#the story pulls you in immediately and the only downside to it is all of the SA shit really

[tariah23]

alou. since there's not many people active on the topic lately it would be nice for someone else to share, what is your general opinion/take on ichi the killer (manga)?

Ichi the Killer was one of the first dark manga that really made me go “oh my god… this is kind of amazing-“ and at the point of reading it for the first time, I’d already been into gorey, psychological manga for a couple of years but hadn’t gotten around to reading it yet! I remember watching the movie immediately after reading it all those years ago but I felt like it was SUPER cheesy (still is. It doesn’t really capture the same urgency and chaotic nature of the manga at all but I can say that the film had really great wardrobe, especially with the fun colors they had Kakihara wearing. And they got a really handsome actor to play him since he’s kind of dusty in the manga but it doesn’t matter since he’s super cool 😭. His design is incredibly memorable for a guy who was only drawn wearing a generic black suit throughout the entire manga. I haven’t watched the movie in years though…) but the manga… I can say that it is definitely not for everyone.

SA being a major plot point in the story would turn most people off from it so I definitely get it. I read it back when I used to give literally everything a chance regardless of if it made me uncomfortable or not and because of this, I’ve kind of built up my stomach to be able to take a lot of these things. Some stuff, I just can’t though (stuff involving children mostly). But the manga was so fascinating to me! I enjoyed how both Ichi and Kakihara were each others foils. They’re whole thing was kind of one-sided though because of Kakihara’s perversions and his need to be hurt and hurt others. He must’ve felt like he was in heaven when he first layed his eyes on the MESS that Ichi left behind and found his uh, calling card, quite special.

The twist involving the buff ass young guy who looks like an old man still puts me on my ass still to this day 😭….. it really shattered the main theme of the story into a million pieces and flipped it on its head!? That was so….!!! I felt bad for the little boy who eventually became the guys next victim… that’s how the manga ended and I just… UGHHH. It was nice to see Ichi finally be free from his emotional shackles and learn to live normally after being groomed since high school and manipulated into killing other people all the way up till his adulthood. That was a lot…

I really loved the final showdown between Ichi and Kakihara as well!?? I like the part where Kakihara was coming to terms with the fact that he finds it thrilling to be running for his life and feeling real, genuine fear while at the same time, being in complete ecstasy like, he’s such a FREAKKKKK 😭! He was probably the most exciting character out of the entire story even though I didn’t mind Ichi as the MC. The story was so brutal and extremely tragic. I felt bad for most of the characters tbh, especially the women.

[bitchlessdino]

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight. 

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 

“I’m going over there.” 

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Actions they unintentionally do that turn on Ace... literally (Portgas D. Ace x GN!Reader)

Words: 1,188

Warnings: Cursing, suggesting smut. Hot, hot, hot Ace

A/N: If you have One Piece Requests... please send them! -Val

It’s been a while since they joined the Whitebeard’s crew. The good thing is that Y/N adapted very well with everyone on board, the downside was the extreme comfort they seemed to feel with certain member.

Ace knew immediately that they were innocent and naïve, Y/N’s face gave them away, and as time went on and he interacted with them, it only confirmed his theory. 

There is nothing wrong with this; on the contrary, Ace finds them a breath of fresh air. They’re always excited for adventures, Y/N‘s a dreamer, a caring pure soul. The real problem is him.

He’s very proud that Y/n’s regained the confidence taken away, and he feels warm to know they feel safe by his side. But that doesn't stop his mind from thinking things... that he shouldn't be thinking, not about Y/N.

For example: when they sit on his lap.

Part of the crew is in a bar, drinking and laughing while they tell funny stories. At some point, Y/N arrives and finds the group. When they get closer, everybody greets them and offers them alcohol. As their drink arrives, Ace’s crewmate looks for a place to sit. Although Marco and Sachi offer their chairs, Y/N’s already have their preferred spot in sight. The pirate goes straight to Ace and sits on his lap with a hand around his shoulders for support. 

It's not the first time they've done this, Ace has no problem with this, but he wasn't expecting it at that moment, let alone in front of the others.

Y/N rests their body against Ace's bare chest as they follow the conversation and swing their legs. All the while, Ace keeps his arms at his sides, itching to touch Y/N’s legs or grab them by the waist. He tries to keep his mind occupied with the conversation instead of the warm body on him. The very idea of getting hard seems terrible to Ace. All this happening under the curious gazes of the crew.

Sleeping with him:

At first, Ace heard about Y/N’s sleeping problems because of the constant nightmares, so he offered to sleep on the same bed to reassure them. Now his body tenses up when he hears the door to his room being opened, footsteps approaching and the movement of the mattress. 

“Are you awake?” Y/N whispers. He wants to act asleep but... “I know you’re awake,” they giggle. 

He turns to Y/N, ignoring the need to caress their cheek, to hug them and run his lips and tongue all over their body, to tell them things he shouldn't, to slowly remove each garment and—

“Ace!” 

He blinks out of his daydream. “What?”

“Your fire!”

He frowns and the smoke reaches his nose, he turns and notices the flames peeking into his room. “Shit!”

 Ace manages to put out the fire and returns to bed.

Y/N chuckles. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t see look up. “Uh, yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Noup.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N snuggles closer. “Good night, Ace”.

And his ultimate downfall: caressing or pulling his hair.

Is it a kink? He’s not sure, but it did affect him. The worst part? Y/N does it all the fucking time!

One morning, he’s dreaming that he’s fucking Y/N like he’s always wanted. It feels so real, the touches, their moans, the heat... That’s why he doesn't notice that he’s grinding against their ass in the real world.

Y/N wakes up thanks to the movements and the feeling of something hard against them. They open their eyes and try to figure out what’s going on.

“Ace?” despite the strong grip on their waist, Y/N manages to turn around. “Ace!” Y/N shakes him by the shoulders, but he keeps moaning. They try their best but it’s always difficult to wake him up.

Then, they move Ace's body face up and sit above him. “Ace, wake up!” Y/N shakes him harder.

“W-What?” He opens his eyes startled, and he slowly comes to his senses. Y/N is on top of him, his hard cock, his body dripping in sweat. “What!?” He hears his heart pound in his ears.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asks him with concern.

“I’m…” His eyes travel all over their body. “I—”

“Were you having a nightmare?”

‘Holy shit’, he thinks. His body screams for sex and they think that he is having a nightmare. He can’t take it anymore. He doesn't know what to do.

Ace sits abruptly and Y/N yelps, feeling his boner. They frown and think that maybe they’re wrong, but…

“Ace, what’s going on?”

“You’re so naïve,” he says without thinking.

“Sorry?”

“No!” He grabs them by their waist. “I mean… I—” he sighs.

“Just tell me,” Y/N whispers.

Ace looks into their eyes. “You’re innocent and naïve and… there’s nothing wrong with it! But I… I can’t take it anymore!”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re killing me!” He laughs nervously. “Just think about it— you’re on my lap and I’m sure you can feel my cock.” They blush at his vulgar words. “Shit, now you’re uncomfortable— I… I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighs, dropping his head on Y/N's shoulder.

“W-Why do you say that?”

“You must think I’m a pervert for thinking like that about you,” he explains.

“What do you think about me?” Ace frowns and comes out of his hiding place. “I-I mean, like what things? What kind?”

At that moment, Ace realizes that Y/N’s body’s telling him something too. They’re tense, skin flush, eyes on his lips and their hands… are caressing the back of his neck, dangerously close to his hair.

“I want you,” he answers. “I want… all of you. I want to be beside you, near you… inside you,” Y/N squirms at the last word, and he grunts. “You have no idea how much I’m starving for you and how I can't control myself when you sit on my lap, when we’re in bed— fuck, when you play with my hair...” he feels lighter telling the truth.

“Like this?” Y/N asks caressing the hair at the back of his head. 

He tenses again and his length twitches.

“Y-yeah,” he almost moans. “When you pull it...” they do it and he grabs them harder. “Wait,” he stops, going back to reality. “You want this.” It’s not a question. 

They look down. “I’m sorry for doing those things… it wasn’t my, I-I’ve never...” he grabs their chin gently to make them look at him.

“It wasn't your actions that frustrated me, Y/N,” he caresses their cheek. “It was the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it. Touch you like I wanted and needed, not without your permission.”

“Y-you have it.”

He smirks. “Are you sure?” They nod. “Use your words, I need you to say it. That this is what you want,” he leans closer, his nose tracing Y/N’s jawline.

“I want you, Ace. I want all of you too,” Y/N moans quietly when he kisses their neck.

“You won’t regret it,” he promises.

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Shielded

[Resident Evil: Village] Dimitrescu Sisters x Fem! Reader | Bela Dimitrescu x Female Reader, Cassandra Dimitrescu x Female Reader, Daniela Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: A short fight, near-death experiences, blunt death of a major character (from the series), blood

[A/N]: This is part one of my short stories for the Dimi sisters. I'll have one for each sister individually once I can set up an outline.

Here are the continuations:

Bela Cassandra Daniela

Enjoy!

Alcina Dimitrescu’s daughters were known by those in the Village to be rather sadistic. They enjoyed torturing their victims for days, often verging on weeks, because they found the terror on their faces amusing. They never seemed to struggle in a fight, no matter how much bigger their opponent was. Even individually they were too powerful. That is–so long as they aren’t weakened first. The one downside to the experiments they had been under, performed by Mother Miranda herself, was that they couldn’t withstand any temperature “below 50 degrees Fahrenheit,” according to the Empress herself. It prevented them from being able to shift into a swarm of flies, meaning it was much harder to retreat to safety.

Ethan Winters had figured this out rather quickly. He found a small book with descriptions and photos of the experiments as they were taking place. Because of how quickly he was dashing throughout the castle in search of his daughter, Rose, all three of the Dimitrescu sisters decided it would be best to corner him so he wouldn’t be able to run anymore.

In a spare room upstairs, they managed to surround him, taunting him relentlessly as he shot at them in vain. They laughed, shoving him to the ground. The eldest daughter, Bela, stood over him, raising her sickle high above her with the intent to drive it directly into his throat with an overly-brutal force. He continued to shoot at her. She cackled darkly. “Silly man-thing. It seems you just don’t learn things quick enough. Your bullets cannot harm anyone in here.” Her sisters laughed at him with her, but before she could jab his jugular the way she had been desperate to for hours now, her attention was immediately drawn to the sound of glass shattering behind her. She whipped around to find the nearest window blown open. She gasped, turning back to Ethan and watching as smoke trailed out from the barrel of his handgun. A loud growl erupted from her throat. “You stupid man! Do you have any idea as to what you’ve just done?”

Cassandra and Daniela both ducked behind objects in the room for cover from the harsh wind now pouring into the room. Bela slashed at Ethan’s face, but she only managed to gash his arms as he blocked. He quickly kicked her hard in the leg, scrambling back onto his feet as she collapsed to the ground. She could already feel her body crystalizing, causing her movements to slow drastically. Ethan shot at her repeatedly to force her to stay in the wind. Cassandra then lunged forward from his right and swung her blade at him–though he quickly dodged and threw her down towards Bela. She cried out in pain as the icy gust began freezing her body thoroughly as well.

“You damned bastard!” Daniela shouted. She ran towards Ethan recklessly, and he countered her attack by using the grip of his gun to strike her sickle away from himself, grabbing her by the arm and twirling her around far enough to hurl her in the same spot of her older sisters. Bela managed to catch her weakly, though there was still a thud that was loud enough to cover the sound of the door opening behind Ethan.

“Enough of these games! Where’s Rose?” He aimed his pistol towards the trembling trio now practically frozen on the ground. Bela instinctively pulled her sisters into her chest, trying desperately to shield them from everything around them. “Answer me! Where the hell is my daughter?” Bela huffed as she shivered, glaring up at him through her eyelashes. Her gaze flickered behind him, a look of terror growing across her features. A loud cry rang out as a woman jumped onto Ethan and tackled him to the ground. All three of the girls recognized her–the maid they had grown so fond of. Daniela tried to crawl forward, but her eldest sister held her back. “[Y/N], no! You’ll get yourself killed!”

“How dare you lay your filthy hands on them?” She wrestled against him to keep him pinned, grasping at his gun. He writhed beneath her and finally managed to shove her off of him. Before he had the chance to aim at her, however, she was already back up and running towards him. She kicked his hand as hard as she could, sending the gun flying towards the wall. Ethan glared up at her, and they both scrambled towards it. Just before he could grab hold of the barrel, a hand stomped down onto his wrist, causing him to let out a cry of pain.

[Y/N] was quick to pick up the pistol and aim it towards Ethan’s head, not hesitating as she pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through the back of his skull.

Moments passed as she panted heavily for breath, studying Ethan’s limp body in search of any signs of life. At length, her gaze shot over to the three women on the floor a few feet away. She discarded the gun, not caring where it ended up, and ran towards them to help them stand. “Come on, let’s get you three somewhere warmer.” She managed to lead them into the hallway, supporting Bela–who was struggling to prop her younger siblings up against her shoulders. “[Y/N],” she voiced softly. “There should be a fireplace two rooms down. I’m not sure if there’s any driftwood though.”

[Y/N] nodded and steadied them before walking them into the room. She sat them down a few feet in front of the hearth, glanced around the room in a panicked manner, and growled when she didn’t spot any wood. She ran to the next room, returning shortly to bundle all three of the women up with multiple blankets she had found. Not too long after, there were pillows that supported their weight as they relaxed into the small amount of warmth. “I’ll be right back,” [Y/N] assured, kneeling in front of them. “W-Where are you going?” “I need to go get the driftwood from downstairs. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

They didn’t have any time to respond, only being able to watch as she ran past them and left the room. It felt like hours had passed before she finally made it back. She tossed the wood into the fireplace and lit a match, flicking it into the pile and watching as a small flame slowly came to life. “Okay, hopefully the fire will grow in a moment. Is there anything else I can do to help you three heal?”

All three of them shared a look and a few reluctant nods. Cassandra turned to [Y/N]. “I-It won’t help us warm up, but…drinking someone’s blood would help us regain a bit of our strength.” [Y/N] stood there for a moment, surprised. She nodded and looked around. “You could use my sickle, but it’s in the other room,” Bela offered. The maid nodded and dashed out of the room once more. She returned briefly with the blonde’s weapon.

Sitting in front of the trio, [Y/N] brought the sharpest edge of the blade to her palm. She sucked in a sharp breath before digging it into her skin and dragging out a jagged line of blood. The scent of blood heightened all three Dimitrescu sisters’ senses. Their pupils expanded and they forced themselves to sit up. They took turns drinking small amounts, going from youngest to oldest. Daniela went first, then Cassandra. When it was Bela’s turn, there was hardly any blood left, visibly upsetting her.

[Y/N] sighed softly. “Don’t worry. I can always lose a bit more,” she whispered. She sliced another line on the same palm with a small hiss of pain and lifted it towards the blonde’s lips. Bela latched on immediately, grabbing ahold of the girl’s hand and pulling it closer. Moments later, when she was finished drinking, she sighed and leaned back into the pillows to rest. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “Of course.” [Y/N] stood, shakily placed the sickle on a table nearby, and went to the cabinet adjacent to the door, thankful to find a small roll of bandages. She treated her fresh, self-inflicted wounds quickly before walking to sit beside the fireplace so she could keep an eye on the three.

She sighed heavily, the adrenaline from the fight finally wearing off and causing great fatigue throughout her body. She closed her eyes. They snapped open, however, when she heard the girls whining and shuffling under the blankets. “What’s wrong?” Cassandra groaned. “It’s so cold,” she replied. [Y/N] turned to examine the size of the fire, finding that it was still rather small. “I’m not sure what I can do to help you warm up faster. I’ve grabbed almost every blanket I could find.” Daniela tried to sit up, but could only manage to partially prop herself up with her elbow. “We could really use your body heat. Why don’t you let us huddle against you?” Bela and Cassandra nodded in agreement, letting out small “yeah’s.”

Flustered, [Y/N] cleared her throat. “I’m not sure,” she voiced, “I think you three might need to warm up by the fire instead. It’ll provide more warmth than I ever could.” Bela shook her head and motioned for her to join them. “We’ll take any source of heat we can get. We’re so cold, [Y/N]. Please just let us do this.” [Y/N] sighed. She stood and weakly sauntered over to the pile of pillows and blankets, sheepishly crawling under the multiple layers and planting herself in between Bela and Cassandra. With a groan, Daniela forced herself to shift over far enough to lie on top of the [h/c] girl while her older sisters each leaned against her opposite shoulders.

Collectively, all three sisters sighed in relief at the sudden comfort the softness and warmth brought them. They pulled the blankets tighter around themselves and nuzzled as far into [Y/N]’s body as they could. “Thank you for…you know. Saving us,” Bela murmured. Her sisters hummed in agreement, both too exhausted to be vocal about their gratitude.

“Of course,” [Y/N] reassured softly. “You three mean the world to me. I could never just stand to the side and let something bad happen to any of you.” They all shared a smile. “And, of course, if I hadn’t stepped in, your mother would’ve had my head,” she added in a joking manner. “We wouldn’t have let that happen to you,” Daniela whispered almost inaudibly, chuckling. “But you wouldn’t have been here to protect me.” “Ah, we would’ve found a way. Believe us.”

They laughed softly, enjoying the silence that fell upon the room afterwards.

“What’re we going to do with the body?” [Y/N] asked. “Eat him,” Daniela said as though it were obvious. “You want to eat the body of a man who nearly ruined everything?” “Oh, definitely,” Cassandra muttered, smirking when [Y/N] giggled.

Loud, hurried footsteps reverberated down the hall, growing louder within mere seconds. The door of the room flew open, striking the cabinet beside it with a loud crack, and a familiar voice called out. “Girls?” Alcina asked anxiously. She quickly walked to stand in front of the group, sighing when she saw everyone breathing. She knelt down and placed a hand on Bela’s shoulder. “Oh, my poor dears, are you alright? One of the maids informed me of what happened.” The blonde’s eyes fluttered open and flickered over to her mother. “We’re alright, mother. He’s dead.” “Yeah,” Daniela added, prompting her mother to turn her attention to her. “[Y/N] protected us and brought us in here so we could warm up.”

Alcina’s head tilted. “Warm up?” A look of pure fury crossed her features. “You mean to tell me that repulsive, pathetic excuse of a man forced you into the cold? Oh, [Y/N], you should’ve let me handle things. I would have sliced him to ribbons the way he deserved.” “I apologize, my Lady, I just wanted to ensure he didn’t hurt them again. There was a bit of a struggle, so I sort of…ended things as quickly as I could.” The matriarch of the castle sighed and smiled. “It’s alright, my dear. You kept my daughters safe. I’ll forever be grateful for that.” They shared a look of understanding before Alcina stood. “Now, where did the poor man-thing meet his well-deserved demise?” “Two rooms over.”

“Perfect. Dinner will be very satisfying.” With that, she left the room and headed to the place of the attack. The sound of the door opening followed by something heavy being dragged all the way downstairs informed the women that their mother had the other maids prepping for dinner.

[Y/N] closed her eyes, letting herself relax and focus on her senses. She opened her eyes to look down and study the fatigued, lounged body language and expressions of the girls. She could smell the ash of the burning driftwood and feel the heat it provided. Beneath all of the covers, she could feel where each hand rested against her skin, each shaky breath taken by the girls who clung to her for warmth. Daniela had both arms tucked underneath [Y/N]’s body to ground herself steady as she rested on top of her torso, Cassandra’s were wrapped weakly around her shoulders, and Bela had one buried underneath her and the other resting on her chest.

[Y/N] could hear everyone’s breathing and the crackle of the fire. For a group that had just been attacked mere moments ago, all four women seemed to be at ease. In an attempt to further soothe them, [Y/N] brought her hands up to rub Bela and Cassandra’s lower arms. Their slightly tensed muscles softened in relief. She hugged them closely.

“I promise you–all three of you–that as long as I’m here, I will never let anything bad happen to you.”

There was no response, but she knew that they had heard her. She sighed. Her head fell back to lean against the pillows. The plush surface provided a softness that helped her body still, her eyelids drooping from fatigue. A soft rustling and the feeling of a weight being lifted from her chest, however, prompted her to look down. She found the youngest of the daughters gazing up at her. “Is something wrong?” She whispered softly at Daniela, who shook her head.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to ask you something,” she responded just as quietly. “Hm?” “Could we possibly come to you more often? I hadn’t realized just how much warmth you can provide. It’s really cozy.” [Y/N] was far too exhausted to blush or be modest. Instead, she simply smiled with a barely-noticeable nod. “Of course.” Daniela smiled back at her and returned to resting her head against the girl’s chest. Her mind settled once she could hear [Y/N]’s heartbeat.

Flames crackling and soft snores took the place of the silence in the room. [Y/N] swore in her heart she would never let them get hurt again, no matter what it took. She squeezed the women closer to herself and shut her eyes, whispering a soft reassurance more to herself than the others as she finally let herself drift into a much-needed slumber. “Everything will be okay.”

[itsclydebitches]

I think I sent an ask like this along time ago? IDK though.

The weird thing about Oz is that it feels like there was stuff they could have brought up if they wanted us to view him in a darker light that they just...dont

Like, that whole thing with Oz conquering the world with Salem and tricking people into worshipping them as gods. Yeah he eventually saw what he was doing was wrong, but that was after he and Salem had 4 kids. So for a long-ass time he was an imperialist god-king

Or the part where he nearly attacked Ruby once she asked Jinn the question.

It just...feels like those are totally things that should be discussed more. But instead they focus on a bunch of other things that are really weird to hold against Oz.

Like why focus on this you have way better things to hold against Oz right there.

That's very possible, anon! I don't know how many unanswered asks are sitting in this inbox now, but it's not a small number...

Totally agree. I think Oz gets criticized to an unfair degree by the canon and fandom alike (no one is shocked to hear this lol) but part of my issue is what he's criticized for, not just the extent. The show tends to take incredibly weird perspectives like, "How dare you give our uncle cool bird powers with no downside" and "How dare you save group members from a deadly airship crash." The fandom takes stances with larger political implications like, "How dare an abused man 'steal' his daughters away from the mother who wants to use them for a magical form of genocide" or issues that fundamentally break the core concept of the show: "How dare you let teenagers fight dangerous battles / How dare you reincarnate - something you have no control over - into a 14yo boy." The show does engage with some of Ozpin's morally complex choices with no easy answers like, "Is it okay to keep secrets if history has shown severe downsides to revealing that information?"... but then the answer the story decides on - "No it's not" - immediately doesn't apply to half the cast, with no examination of how that changes our perception of Ozpin's choice. And, as you say, the show simultaneously introduces HUGE mistakes - "You positioned yourself as a god! Then a king!!"- that the characters could absolutely mistrust him for... but they don't. Because they're too busy focusing on all of the above.

The only thing I'd push back against here is anyone being mad at Ozpin for "nearly attacking" Ruby. I'd consider that a highly unfair criticism as well given that:

We don't know if he would have attacked. He just charges with his and out-stretched, so Ozpin could just as likely have been intending to snatch the Relic

All these characters have aura and train/hit for funsies on a regular basis. It feels like a stretch - one working to paint Ozpin in an unfair light - to act like Ruby taking a hit is suddenly some horrific event that's worthy getting up-in-arms about

In this same scene the girls pull their weapons on Qrow and Oscar - someone WITHOUT that training/fully unlocked aura - gets punched into a tree. Again, consistent morality. Why is Ozpin in the wrong for charging with an open hand (ambiguous) but the girls are justified in pulling their weapons (clear intent)? Why should Super Fighter Ruby be defended for taking a hit after forcibly stealing secrets from Ozpin, but we should shrug off the newbie farm kid taking a hit for the "sin" of being an unwitting, passive vessel?

Plus... as said above, "forcibly stealing secrets." I'm not saying Ozpin is 100% justified in attacking Ruby over this, but I think he's a HELL of a lot more justified compared to actions like threatening Qrow or attacking Oscar. Ruby ignored his requests to give the Relic back; she ignored how terrified he clearly was. She wasted a wish (which Ozpin knew would happen). She revealed his entire, traumatic history to the group PLUS a total stranger (Maria) which, again, Ozpin knew would happen. Of course he tried to stop her. We will never know what lengths he would have gone to, whether he would have truly fought Ruby or just made a last minute grab, but even if he had fought her... It think that's understandable. We can argue about whether it's right, but it's not the sort of thing the heroes should be holding against him once tempers have cooled, especially when he has stuff like playing God that they have hold as a long term grudge.

Out of everything Ozpin has done, maybe being willing to fight the prodigy fighter to keep her from making one of the stupidest decisions we've seen in the show to date is pretty low on the sin list.

[vividwritinglove]

You're always worth it - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: fem!reader x Lewis Hamilton

warnings: smut (mdi), choking

words: 1K

————————————————————————

"Really, Lewis?" You sigh to yourself after seeing the notification of a new post in your boyfriend's story. He was just working out and once again sharing his fitness with his community.

Actually, you weren't surprised. He has always been very public about himself. But not when it comes to his love life and especially his relationship with you, he seemed to protect you from the public or the press at all costs. You are so infinitely important to him.

As time goes by, it becomes harder to keep your love a secret. You rented an apartment in the same apartment complex, so that you could move in together without anyone suspecting. In the first few months, everything was so new and exciting, but now it felt like a sort of gilded cage. Your love for Lewis is so strong, but you miss all the things normal couples do: going for walks, going out to eat, shopping, traveling, or just working out together at the gym.

You would love to accompany him to his races. Just be there for him physically and not only via cell phone and in front of a TV. Lewis has been in the public eye for years and knows the downside of being famous. You're not used to it, you've never been in public life before. This is just another reason that he loves about you. This little bit of normality that you gave him as soon as he entered his 4 walls. With you he can be totally himself. No mask, completely unfiltered.

The next moment you hear the front door to Lewis' apartment open. Lewis has returned from his workout. Conveniently, the gym is located a few floors below his apartment.

"Babe, I'm back!" you hear him say and a few seconds later he enters the living room. Sweaty and grinning. That damn smile with that tooth gap. You have to grin as well and hold your smartphone out to him. On your screen the picture from his story.

"Another thirst trap, babe?"

"It's in the eye of the beholder." he still grins, pulling his tank top over his head. You immediately forget what you were going to say at the sight of his muscular and tattooed torso. God, this man just knows how to handle discussions with you. You love his tattoos. A passion you both share. How many times have you traced the dark ink on his skin with your fingers.

"I'm going to take a shower." he says casually, now stripping off his shorts as well.

You swallow hard and press your thighs together. He knows exactly what he's doing and how he could drive you crazy, "I would really enjoy your company."

You don't let him tell you twice. You get up from the sofa and walk towards him, brushing your sweat jacket off your shoulders. As you stand directly in front of him, his eyes immediately move to your lips. He loves to kiss you. Your hands travel up his abs to his pecs. You feel the slight goosebumps forming on his skin under your touch, "This is supposed to be for my eyes only..."

Greedily he presses his lips on yours. His kisses are dominant, you give yourself to him. His hands also wander along your body and linger now on your ass. The next moment he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his middle. With a lightness he carries you into the bathroom, not interrupting your hot and intimate kiss. He is everything you have ever dreamed of and more.

Only a few minutes later you are under the big rain shower. Cool water pours down on your heated and naked bodies. His every touch makes you see stars. Before him, there was no one who touched you like this. Lewis has experience, did things with you that you would never have dreamed of in your wildest dreams. Just like in this moment. His fingers are magic. You let him play you like an instrument and in return you gave him the most beautiful melodies. He adores you and especially the look on your face when you cum, "Lewis, I... I..."

"Not yet." He murmurs and your grip on his shoulders tightens. He lets go of you, turning you around and you feel his muscular body pressed to your back. He pushes you forward slightly, making you bend over a little, only to enter you right after. Gently and determinedly. Pleasurably you moan, also Lewis throat escapes a growl at the familiar feeling of being inside you. You quickly find your rhythm together. One of his hands moves up to your neck and his fingers wrap around your tender skin like a necklace. The other travels down your torso over your breasts, pressing you even tighter against him. His thrusts become more imprecise, your mutual moans increase and again that comforting warm feeling forms in your abdomen.

"Come on, baby girl. I need to hear you." Lewis murmurs lustfully in your ear, lightly squeezing your air supply. As if on his command, it overcomes you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your knot bursts. Shortly after, Lewis is ready, too. His grip on your neck loosens and quickly he kisses the slightly irritated skin of the crook of your neck. Exhausted, you nestle your face against his. A blissful smile plays around your lips.

After the shower, you two linger a bit in the bathroom. You sit down on the vanity in your bathrobe and rub your hair dry with a small towel. Lewis, with a towel hanging loose around his hips, stands in front of the mirror and puts lotion on his body.

"I want to work out with you tomorrow."

Lewis looks over from his reflection to you, a little puzzled. But then he smiles and nods, "Agreed."

The Next Day

lewishamilton and y/username

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[alicentsswornshield]

@wolfie-1221 posted a list of their fav rhaenicent fics 🤌 10/10 recommendations

I've been inspired to share my own list since I've been spending probably too much time on ao3 - hopefully it will be helpful for anyone looking to start reading rhaenicent (note that few are already mentioned in the above mentioned post)

My favourites (in no particular order):

(WIP) Seven (by @comicxgrl)

The story follows two alternating timelines and you're equally invested in both. It's so so well written, you fall in love with the characters immediately, the pacing of the story line is incredible and with only 5 chapters published, I think story is slowly set up for the main arc. The author is an architect and you can feel the thought process and clear intention behind every line and action.

(WIP) Out of sun (by @lumyart )

Rhaenyra and Alicent share a complicated past. Skip 10yrs later, Alicent is an excellent surgeon, has three kids and a husband. Their paths cross again when Targaryen Enterprises start being involved with Alicent's hospital.

Tags for this story are #bdsm #makingkinkemotional #emotionalslowburn - I think that's all you need to know?

I feel like it's really hard to write about bdsm w/o making it feel gratuitous. That's not the case here. @lumyart involves it as one of the main plot points of the story. It explores the emotional/psychological reason/need behind kinks and how those relationships differ etc. The push and pull in their relationship is dizzying, as the story progresses we get snippets of their past and what went wrong between them and how did they get where they are now. It almost feels like you're uncovering a mystery. There's many layers to the story and each chapter gifts you one piece of the puzzle.

See also: Blame it on Fate (morning show au we deserved) | silver sparks (wish this was the s02 hod script)

Love is complicated (by @molter-writes)

Absolute favourite of molter's fics and that's really hard to decide on.

This story made me want to start a campaign to get @molter-writes to actually write a rhaenicent Notting Hill AU.

Don't even read the summary. Just read everything and anything by @molter-writes , it will always deliver strong writing, a compelling storyline and characters that you can't help but fall in love with.

Bodhrán beat (by @molter-writes)

I'm not a monarchist but I will make an exception for this modern royals au. Whatever you think this fic is about, you are mistaken.

Only one chapter posted so far but it's so so good. I don't think you realise how unwell I was after I read it.

See also: (WIP) leaf and blade | (Completed) grey ridge (ríl liatroma) | (Completed) ride the dragon (and do it quickly) | (WIP) song of the exposition

(WIP) Lying (in the hollows of your heart)  (by @wakesirens) 

I usually read only modern AUs (because of the misogyny in Westeros, I have enough of that irl thanks) but this fic is amazing nonetheless. Keeping Baelon alive and him being king gives us an alternate version of Rhaenyra's life. One where she's his most trusted advisor and representative of the Crown but she's not bound to the throne/realm in same way as the heir. This allows her to still attain power and freedom usually not afforded to women. Oh and Alicent works in a brothel.

What you wanted (by mrdcai)

Berlin, spies, complicated past, angst

Again it's just excellent writing! This one only has 1/3 chapters out but I'm already convinced that it deserves to be among top five fics. Only downside is that the story will only have three chapters, though a part of me is hoping that the author will change their mind and make it a longer story.

Side note, I keep imagining Alicent as Olivia Cooke's character from Slow Horses... great spy/thriller show btw

See also: Desire (I want to turn into you)

Some other fics I loved:

(WIP) Honey, make this easy (by nerdsofdeath)

Alicent is a history professor at university and Rhaenyra is her new TA. It's a slow burn and v angsty 😭

Midnights Like This (by pure_black_wings)

College AU, they're two idiots in love that don't know how to cope.

War of Hearts (by Silanahfire)

Rhaenyra Targaryen is barren and the realm needs an heir. The King and Grand Maester Mellos found a solution in the scripts of Old Valyria. Alicent Hightower will carry her child, even if the estrangement between the two seemed impossible to end. An arranged marriage waits both.

(WIP) You Broke Me (by skullgamerscy)

Angst 😭

The Silver Queen and the Lady in Green (by Wandering Fan)

This is AU in every sense of the word. The author built a whole different world with its own lore. Very very slow burn

[crossdressingdeath]

Thinking about the disappointing ending to Durge's personal quest and how they either go full villain or lose most of what makes them unique as a character and basically just become Tav, and like... since Durge's death and immediate resurrection adds nothing to the plot (and what with things like the companions not responding to it, there being no clear reason why Durge is able to do something that Withers specifically says breaks cosmology and Withers apparently being unable to resurrect Durge if they kill themself to defy Bhaal at the very end of the game for no apparent reason it actually causes a surprising number of problems in the writing), why couldn't the good ending just involve finding a way to stop Bhaal from interfering in their life rather than Bhaal killing them?

Here's one potential solution, just off the top of my head. All the other origins' personal quests have trade-offs, right? Durge is the only one with this perfect "you get everything you want with no downsides" sort of ending. So what if instead of Bhaal killing them and them immediately getting brought back, they had to make a deal with him? He sets them free, and in exchange they do something for him. I can't think of what the exact terms would be, maybe something like... I don't know, "You'll uphold the usual 'murder once a tenday' tenets of the Bhaalists and if you stop you're mine again" that wouldn't really do anything in the game itself but would become an issue afterwards (like Astarion losing the ability to walk in sunlight if he remains a spawn and Wyll losing his warlock powers if he breaks his contract)? But whatever the terms are the upshot is that Bhaal removes the Urge as a show of good faith and the party is allowed to leave freely. Maybe also add in something like Shar still harassing Shadowheart if she spares her parents, like... maybe Bhaal removing the Urge and agreeing not to force Durge into their apocalyptic destiny doesn't mean he can't try to convince them to do it of their own will, so he occasionally pops into their head and tries to push them in a more murdery direction in a less aggressive version of the Urge that can't directly take over them? Or possibly just. hurts them out of spite because as long as he doesn't do anything permanent or force them to harm anyone else he's remaining within the bounds of their agreement. And that way they remain a piece of Bhaal's divine gore with everything that entails, they're just not on Bhaal's leash anymore. And they've also agreed to do something pretty fucked up of their own (coerced) will in exchange for their freedom, so they don't retain the annoyingly spotless moral high ground of the canon end of redemption Durge's story where they selflessly die rather than become Bhaal's apocalypse-triggering Chosen again.

You could even keep that "I'd rather die than serve you" energy without actually pulling the trigger: since Durge is actually a part of Bhaal rather than just his child like other Bhaalspawn, maybe they'd have ammunition for forcing Bhaal to bargain with them that regular Bhaalspawn don't. Like, say... maybe since they're a part of Bhaal them being destroyed utterly would do a fair amount of damage to him (which may have something to do with why they can be resurrected despite that usually being impossible for Bhaalspawn), and—to keep Withers's involvement in the quest, since that's actually really fun and given his distaste for Bhaal makes sense—the death god they're palling around can help make that complete destruction happen. Under those circumstances it would be better for Bhaal to lose them as his Chosen and mess up that particular plan for total victory rather than continue to try to force them and weaken himself permanently! I think if nothing else all that wouldn't make less sense than the canon ending.

[weaselandfriends]

You previously mentioned a skepticism of serially-written stories. Do you think the serial format has downsides beyond the obvious difficulty of editing? It seems to me like the backlog you keep lets you edit chapters in the light of ones that will appear shortly, while obviously you can't really remove a chapter that didn't go anywhere if you released it 20 weeks ago; are there other ways that you think serial writing can damage a work?

Yes! You are, amazingly, talking to someone who read Homestuck after all.

Serial writing has an element of a collaborative project, especially in the internet era where it's so easy for an author to receive direct and immediate feedback. This is, I believe, almost exclusively a bad thing (at least in literature). I wrote a story, Modern Cannibals, about the dangers of a fanbase allowed too close to the creator of their fandom, but in that book I didn't touch so much on the impact on the work itself. Ironically, I personally think Homestuck has one of the most interesting and unique author-fandom collaborative elements possible in a serial work, though this interest is developed solely through what I view as Hussie's growing, seeping disdain for his readership, which manifests throughout Act 6 as a series of increasingly bitter and less good-natured jabs at them. (See: Calliope, the Dancestor trolls and especially Hussie's self-insert comments about them, the literal DOTA followed immediately by his self-insert making its most direct influence on the narrative yet, and a generally increasing nastiness that would culminate in the Epilogues, his master stroke.)

At the same time, though, Act 6 succumbed to incredible bloat (not unlike a RoyalRoad Patreon trap? Only with merch instead of Patreon), became mired in ancillary romantic shenanigans, lost focus of what it wanted to do with most characters and instead crystallized them into some fandom-encouraged configuration (Rose and Kanaya both essentially stop having any meaningful character moments the instant they hook up), brought back Vriska???????? (did the fandom even want this? Or just the devil whispering in Hussie's ear?), and ended the story on a saccharine note that sought inoffensiveness above all else. Indeed, the entire crux of the lousy Act 7 animation seemed to be, at least as Hussie explained it, a reference to the fandom meme "Homestuck is anime." A reference that fell hopelessly flat. How many other niche fandom-specific injokes populate the pages of Act 6, now blisteringly incomprehensible?

Several of these problems were possibly caused by behind-the-scenes issues related to the Kickstarter (which is itself an issue that would only ever exist for a serial work). Still, the point comes across, and this is a work I think pulled off its serial nature better than most.

On the flip side, you get stuff like Game of Thrones - or 90 percent of all long-running TV shows. There's a reason you have the phrase "jump the shark." Though now known generically as a synonym for "gets bad," the original jump the shark moment involved Fonzie, a character who started as supporting cast and who, over time, in response to his popularity, nonsensically became the lead. When fans like something, they want more of it. Some good things are best in moderation, however, and an author typically understands that better than an audience.

Serial writing is a good way for a beginner author to kickstart a career, gain confidence in themselves, and gather the drive necessary to pursue a massive undertaking. If Homestuck never took off, Hussie probably would've written it as a much smaller project, for instance. Once you gain that confidence and that readership, though, I recommend authors move beyond the serial format. I think that's the next step toward developing as a writer.

[asshlyyyy]

Absolute Silence Pt. 3

Part One | Part Two

This is the last part of this instalment. I was going to originally shove this idea into part two, but I figured I would leave it as it's own little part. I can't wait to start writing again, and I can't wait for y'all to read what I have to write!

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x Deaf!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Some information regarding cochlear implants may be wrong. Spelling and Grammatical Errors most likely.

Word Count: 2.1k

After the Cannes Festival, it seemed as if everything went crazy. You went from premier to premier, and you watched the film several times at this point. However, you weren’t complaining. It was a great movie, and you were very happy to support your boyfriend. Plus, you loved the opportunity to visit new cities and countries. Not to mention, seeing Austin all dressed up. That was the real gift in the end. 

The only downside was the press. Every magazine and online article basically called you the rudest person ever! This was because you didn’t pay them any attention or mind. They would call out to you, only for you to ignore them. Oh boy oh boy, if only they knew you were deaf. They would be shut down immediately. 

You didn’t try to let it get to you. It was bound to happen. Dating the star that blew up worldwide for his newest work. People were jealous. People were angry that you had him and they didn’t. They would try and find dirt on you. Hell, they would even start these made-up crack stories about you. 

All of that didn’t matter. All that did matter was Austin and your being. Austin saw the real you. He knows the real you and any of these fake articles will not change his mind about you. Even if you would tell him they didn’t bother you, deep down he knew… deep down you knew that they did. 

“Hey, you ready to go?” Austin asked as he walked into your shared bedroom. You looked up from your phone and looked at Austin.

“I don’t think I’m going to go,” you stated. Austin looked at you confused. You had joined him on every premier up to this point. It was just that everything was hitting you and you didn’t want to do it anymore. You wanted to support him, yes…. But people gave you disgusted looks now. His cast mates gave you disgusted looks. He was the only one who didn’t. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked as he walked over. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your leg. 

“I just don’t want to be the girl that ignores people… The mean one.” You admitted to him.

“You aren’t ignoring them dalrin’. They just don’t know that you’re deaf.” he explained. You let out a sigh and shook your head. It didn’t matter if they knew you were or weren’t deaf.

“I just… I’m not up for it right now. Maybe next time?” Austin nodded in defeat and leaned down to lay a kiss on your head. You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “I’ll see you later superstar.” You whispered.

“I’m going to be texting you the whole time,” Austin admitted to you. You rolled your eyes lightly at him and smacked his arm. 

“I don’t think your agent will like that.” You chuckled lightly.

“Maybe not but,” he shrugged. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, I love you.” You said gently, a small smile on your face.

“I love you too.” He responded and straightened himself up. 

“Oh! Can you put this up on the fridge? I think I just want a silent night.” You asked him as you took off your cochlear. Austin smiled and took the device and gave you the symbol for I love you. You smiled and watched as he left the room. 

You looked down at your phone and took note of the time and sighed. Elvis was a long enough movie as it was, but he might not be home for three or four hours. You could take a nap… you could watch a movie. Or…. 

You pulled up your mother’s contact name on FaceTime and called her. Your mother has helped you through so much, and you knew she would help you through this. As you watched her appear on your screen you smiled.

You perked your phone up and gave her a wave and quickly told her you weren’t wearing your implant. She frowned at this information and imminently knew something was up. 

“What’s wrong honey?” She asked you after she propped up her phone on something. Probably some old books she had lying around the house. 

“Have you seen the articles? They’re calling me the rudest person alive!” You explained to her. 

“Why would they do that? You’re the nicest person that has ever graced Earth.” She tried to lift your mood. 

“Because I don’t notice when they talk to me. So, they call me the rudest person because I ignore them.” You explained further. You should see your mother just get upset over the whole situation. It wasn’t new to her though. 

“Have you talked to Austin about this?” She then asked. 

“I just talked to him about it. He told me not to worry about it.” 

“Then I think you shouldn’t worry about it. They are the ones being rude. They are assuming you are ignoring them. However, the reality is they don’t know you’re deaf.” She sided with Austin. You let out a sigh and looked down at your lap. Both she and Austin were right. You shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Austin!” Olivia called out to him once she saw him. She was especially happy when she noticed you weren’t next to him. Austin spotted his costar and smiled.

“Hey Olivia. You look great,” he complimented her dress. She smiled at his words and did a quick spin.

“Why thank you. You’re looking rather dashing.” Olivia complimented back. Austin nodded as a thank you. “No girlfriend today?”

“No, she’s been reading those articles and she just wasn’t in the mood to come out,” Austin answered.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. At least we could get some pictures now.” She smiled brightly. Austin nodded slowly and just kind of went with the flow. He followed his agent and stopped when needed. 

“Austin! Can we get a few words?” Someone with a microphone asked. Austin looked at his agent for an answer, who responded with a nod. Austin walked over to the guy with a smile. 

“Austin Butler, I only heard great things about this movie.” The guy complimented him.

“Thank you,” Austin chuckled lightly, “but all I did was act. There was a huge team of people behind me that really made it the way it is.”

“I bet things got a bit overwhelming as well. You had big shoes to fill. Do you feel as if you did a good job?” The interviewer questioned. Austin thought about it for a bit. He could never become Elvis no matter how hard he worked. 

“At some moments I thought I did good, but there were other moments when I was like… I should have done that differently, but my girlfriend always reassured me that I was doing the best I could.” Austin smiled at the thought of you. He really wished you were by his side right now. 

“Yes, your girlfriend! I’m sure you’ve seen the nasty articles about her. It’s a real shame that anyone will do anything for the press.” He in a way apologized. 

“It’s all just made up. My girlfriend is completely deaf and she won’t know if you’re talking to her unless you're face to face. So, in reality, the ones who started this rude statement are going to get it.” Austin explained to him. Unbeknownst to him, Olivia was doing her own interview. 

“I met her the first time at the Cannes film festival and she was just so rude to me. I was talking to her, and she just completely ignored me. I’ve never met someone that rude before.” Olivia spoke about you. 

“It was just she was purposely ignoring you.” The female interviewer said. Olivia nodded in agreement. 

“That they are. I don’t see her with you tonight. Send her my best wishes.” He smiled at Austin and thanked him for taking time out of his day to talk to him. Austin gave him a wave and went on his way. 

Once they all got into the building Austin went his own way. He didn’t really want to sit through the whole movie again. There was just something about watching himself. As he described to the interviewer, he often would find ways he could’ve done something else. When you were next to him, you always praised him. 

He grabbed out his phone and started to text you. He wished you were right by his side, but he knew why you wanted to stay home. If only he could stay home as well. In fact, he wanted this whole tour thing to be over. He just wanted to relax. He wanted to lay in bed and be with you.

Back at home, or your temporary hotel room, you lay cuddled up in bed. The tv was playing in front of you and you felt the vibration of your phone. You picked up your phone and saw a text from Austin. You smiled and immediately went to text him back.

Austin 1:24 | I really wish you were here… I miss you so much :(

Y/n 1:25 | I miss you tooo :( Wish the movie would end soon. I can’t wait any longer till we can cuddle. 

Austin 1:30 | If I could I would sneak back right now, but I have to be here for the credits.

Y/n 1:31 | I know, it sucks >:I Y/n 1:32 | Did you see Olivia’s interview? She just continued to call me rude and everything. Saying I was purposely ignoring her… which maybe I was but- I took off my implant. 

Austin 1:34 | Hopefully it will end soon. I did a small interview myself and we were talking about you. I told him you were deaf. Hopefully, people get the damn picture now. 

Y/n 1:35 | God I hope so…

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Before you knew it, you heard the door opening. You sat up in bed and looked around. You looked down at your phone and saw no texts from Austin. You got up from bed and made your way out of the bedroom. As you came around the corner you saw Austin walking in with bags in his hands.

“What did you do?” You asked him confused. Austin just smiled in response and started to pull stuff out of the bags. There was of course food for you two to share, and then the endless amount of snacks and candy. 

“Figured we could have a movie night.” You smiled at him and walked over to him. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his chest. How did you deserve this human? God, you were happy you were at the coffee shop. 

You pulled yourself away from the embrace and grabbed your implant off the fridge. You placed it around your ear and connected it. Austin watched every move you made. You looked at him and smiled.

“Let’s have a movie night then.” You said as you grabbed some of the food and walked over to the bedroom.

“I’ll get the plates and napkins,” Austin announced. You let out a quick hum and got the bed ready. When Austin walked into the bedroom with everything he started to change into something more comfortable. 

“I confronted Olivia today,” He said. You turned and looked at him. 

“Yeah? What’d she say?” You asked him as you picked up a fry to eat. 

“She started to deny everything. Said she didn’t know you were deaf.” Austin explained. You looked at him confused. That was a total lie, but it was clear that she was just trying to gaslight him. 

“Her first words to me were… you’re deaf right?” You rolled your eyes. You really thought Olivia was going to be nice. Hell, you thought you two could even be friends, but after her first words to you were that… “I can’t believe she would try and defend herself.”

“Well, the truth is out there. And they will get all the hate they deserve, and that’s all that matters.” Austin said as he climbed into bed. You let out a short hum and nodded.

“Yeah… you’re right.” You smiled softly at him.

“I’m always right,” he cheekily smiled. You rolled your eyes at him and pushed him away lightly. 

“Mhm, sure you are.”

“Always am,” Austin smiled and wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you close to him. “Because I know that I’m in love with you, and that’s the truth.” He whispered. You turned your head to face him and smiled.

“And I’m in love with you.”

Mutual Taglist: @darlinboypresley @emmymaehereeeeee @venus-haze @austinstyles

[comparativetarot]

Ten of Pentacles. Art by Nara Lesser, from Neurotic Owl’s Faerytale Tarot.

Have you ever thought, “Gee, I love Snow White, but I wish it was significantly more fucked up.  I wish it was like an oddly religious Saw movie.  I wish the villain was a shitty dad instead of yet another evil stepmom, and also the devil because, once again, oddly religious.”  Hoo boy have I got a story for you, and I’m going to assume most of you won’t know it since I’m mildly obsessed with fairy tales and I didn’t.   GIANT trigger warning for parental abuse and maiming and subtextual threat of rape in case you didn’t assume that from my intro, guys.

Full text is findable here – I’m not reprising the whole thing since it’s got quite a few twists and turns.  Basically the father pulls a dumbass ‘what’s that, you just want whatever’s standing behind my house in exchange for enormous riches, mysterious stranger?  I foresee no downside!’ and accidentally promises the devil his extremely lovely and virtuous daughter.  She’s so clean and virtuous (apparently physical cleanliness really is the same as godliness here?) that the devil can’t touch her, so he orders dear old dad to keep her from being able to wash so that he can take her.   She’s washed clean by her tears overnight, so next he tells Dad to CHOP OFF HER FUCKING HANDS ffs and he protests for like half a second, but as soon as it’s going to be him taken instead he goes and tells the daughter, forcing her to offer to let him do it to save himself.  AND HE DOES.  Look, I’m not saying I’m heroic, but I’d like to think that most people would not be talked into maiming their child so that they can go be – tortured more in hell?  Raped by the devil?  I’m pretty much assuming that one, it seems obvious.

Anyhow, the daughter washes her STUMPS clean with her tears again because apparently sacrificing yourself for your shitty dad only goes so far, physical cleanliness is what we’re into here, and she’s saved again and the devil leaves.

To her credit, she immediately nopes out of that house and away from the dad who thinks things will just be ok now, and goes off planning to rely on the kindness of strangers.  It’s a big swing from someone who was just massively betrayed by family but that’s why she’s the awesomest good girl, I guess.

I really have to skip ahead some or I’ll be telling the whole story after all – an angel helps her get to a pear tree for sustenance, then helps her meet the king who owns the orchard, they get married and she gets pregnant (and a set of silver prosthetics, which, heavy, right?  I would have thought wood might be more comfortable?  She probably ended up with fantastic biceps from lifting them) and pregnant, and then the king has to go off to war and the devil comes back to fuck with the poor girl some more.  There are a bunch of faked messages back and forth, the mother-in-law gets told to murder the girl and save her tongue and eyes as proof, and at least she’s not up for that – she gets deer parts as a substitute and sends the girl off with her baby tied to her back.

Aaaand here we are at the moment I picked for this card- the angel leads her to a house with a sign saying ‘here all dwell free’ and she lives there, well cared for, for the next seven years till her husband comes back from war, finds out what happened, and goes after her.  Also, her hands grow back.  It ends happily, but oof is it a trip getting there.  The Grimm brothers, living up to their name!

[haleigh-sloth]

Do you think Shiragiri will die? A while back I used to think that he would die since he's technically already died before, but with the way the story is going I really can't see ShiraGiri dying anymore. I feel like there's been very strong foreshadowing of him also getting a happy ending along with the others.

I don’t think so anymore, but I used to think he would too, back when I expected BNHA to have a bit higher stakes. Like I used to 100% expect All Might to die at Shigaraki’s hand to really challenge Midoriya, but Shigaraki isn’t making decisions right now and everything he does can also be attributed to AFO by at least 50%, if not more if we’re being honest.

So, lower stakes. Which has its downsides. But also has its upsides. Because even if it lowers challenges and stakes, it does come with the very likely possibility of the extremely optimistic ending where literally everyone survives (save for big bads). Kurogiri was on my “die trying to save Shigaraki from AFO” list along with All Might. Also—this isn’t like a super good argument, but Kurogiri and Aizawa are absolutely without a doubt inspired by Kakashi and Obito. Not that I expect BNHA to copy Naruto or anything—but the series is heavily drawn from Naruto in so many ways—arcs, characters, themes, etc., so I did expect that if there was going to be one emotionally pulling death it would be Kurogiri! Even more likely than All Might!

But alas, here we are. Very close to the end. ShiraGiri is only just now coming in, when things seem somehow hopeless on the Shigaraki front. Nobody is really doing what is necessary to help him at this moment, no matter their intentions (Midoriya cough cough). Shigaraki isn’t Shigaraki. He’s almost barely an existence at all at this point, completely withered down and rendered almost completely helpless and desperately just in need of someone to just save him—both in the “save him from himself” kind of way but also in the damsel in distress way. He just really needs to be gotten away from AFO at this point before changing his actions for the better.

The manner that ShiraGiri was brought back into the picture—being told to “go save Shigaraki and the others” by Spinner as he loses consciousness, tells me that what ShiraGiri has to offer to the battlefield will have mixed results immediately, but ultimately be the biggest payoff in the end. Way to go Spinner lol.

Mixed results because there is still the part of him that I assume will yield to AFO to an extent, and I expect him to bring Shigaraki and AFO together—probably out of obligation to do so, maybe thinking it’ll help save Shigaraki from the heroes trying to kill him. But we know that’s bad. So that’s what I mean by mixed results at first.

But I think the benefit will outweigh the cost, because Aizawa’s opinion toward Shigaraki will hang in the balance due to ShiraGiri I’m sure, and that will matter when Midoriya actually goes for the save.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Caustic: An Origin Story

Caustic/Alexander Nox x Original Female Character

Rating: 18+

Chapter 3

The next few days were strange, my relationship with Dr Nox took a turn for what I could only assume was the better. Every morning he would insist on checking my injuries and helping me to do anything I felt needed to be done to help me recover. I just let him do whatever made him feel better, mostly it was to settle him enough to allow him to get some work done, but sometimes if there wasn’t anything to be done, he would get a little frustrated and start the day on the wrong foot.

    He seemed to enjoy applying the ointment which he did every second day, with precision and care. It was the one thing I was somewhat less happy for him to do, watching his eyes darken at the sight of my bruises was not something I enjoyed in the slightest.

    I’d walked in the morning before my meeting and we went through the same routine, the only downside was that I’d barely slept the night before due to the loud music from the flat below. I’d had an episode and I wasn’t interested in talking about it, but the ointment made me fall asleep, something I thought was incredibly embarrassing when Nox woke me a couple of hours later.

    ‘The treatment will take a little longer to kick in, but you will be fine.’ He said with a small smile. ‘You didn’t sleep well last night?’

    ‘No.’ I yawned and sat up, stretching my now healed neck. ‘Loud music from the flat below and parties all over the place.’

    Dr Nox shifted for a moment, unsure of himself. ‘Would you like to rest for a while? I don’t have anything important for you today and you have your meeting this evening.’

    ‘It’s okay, I’ve done more on less sleep.’ I shook my head, moving to get up and head into my office.

    ‘Jessica, you’re exhausted.’

    ‘I’m always exhausted.’ I half laughed, but once again, it didn’t seem to be a laughing matter.

    ‘If you won’t rest, then might I ask you for something else?’

    I frowned and once again folded my arms, having some idea of what he might have been about to say.

    ‘Will you let me pick you up from your meeting?’

    ‘No.’ I said, immediately. That flash of anger returned and it took a long moment for him to compose himself.

    ‘Why not?’

    ‘Because I don’t want you to.’

    ‘Why?’ He pushed.

    ‘The simple fact that I don’t want you to, should be enough for you to not ask me that question.’

    It was a long time before Nox spoke again, he was having a long and internal debate with himself. ‘Fine.’ He nodded once and I left his lab, listening to the sound of him getting so frustrated he threw beakers and other equipment against his office wall.

    I left early without saying goodbye to Dr Nox, assuming he was still angry with me and I went to my meeting. I found it a little easier to listen this week, easier to talk without actually saying much. They noticed and seemed accepting of it, like it was something they’d all done before and come to recognise.

    I ended up leaving a little later than I intended and walked out with another veteran medic, Antonio who insisted I called him Toni. He was a tall man with dark, mid length, curled hair and a nasty scar just about visible on his shoulder from a grenade that went off close to where he had been trying to tend to an injured soldier. Toni had an incredibly kind face with dark chocolate eyes that were the complete opposite of Dr Nox. I felt immediately welcomed into his presence and he laughed like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

    We walked for a while towards the end of town where we both lived until the fork in the road split us up for the remainder of the journey. It was at that point I heard the familiar sound of the young thugs from the previous week. I pulled my phone out and immediately called Dr Nox, whilst increasing my pace towards my flat.

    ‘What is it?’ He answered, clearly annoyed that I’d phoned.

    ‘Look, I know I pissed you off today, but I’m already regretting it,’ I panted. ‘I’m being followed by those same guys.’

    ‘Where are you?’ He demanded.

    ‘Just round the corner from my place.’ I looked back to see that they were drunk and laughing, just about to break into a run. I started first and sprinted as hard as I could towards my flat. I could just about hear the sounds of Nox yelling something on the phone, but I was too busy racing towards my building to hear him.

    Finally, I made it just in time to see the grumpy man who lived below me leaving the front door, he never looked pleased and it was enough to scare the thugs into stopping, unsure of he was with me or not.

    ‘Dr Nox?’ I panted, coughing as I tried to get my breath back.

    ‘Jessica.’ If I didn’t know any better, I would have said he was relieved. ‘Are you alright?’

    ‘I’m fine… I think.’ I leaned against the wall and wiped away the sweat away from my forehead.

    ‘You think or you know?’

    ‘Just… just give me a second to catch my breath.’ I snapped, listening to his sigh in disapproval. He said nothing for a moment while I felt my body come back to me. I stood up and began walking up the stairs to my flat. ‘I’m fine.’

    ‘You don’t sound fine, Jessica.’ Dr Nox said a little softer than before.

    ‘I am okay.’ I suddenly heard the stuttering in my own voice. ‘Just a bit shaken that’s all.’

    Nox sighed again. ‘Would you please allow me to assist you?’

    ‘I don’t need assistance, I’m fine. I just need to rest.’ I was starting to get frustrated.

    ‘Jessica please!’ In all the time I had known Dr Nox, he’d never actually been angry with me, never enough to shout anyway. I didn’t exactly know what to say. ‘I apologise,’ he took a breath. ‘I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Please let me help you.’

    It was my turn to sigh, but it was more because I was out of breath than anything. ‘I just need to sleep.’ I said, looking up and seeing I still had a few floors to go.

    ‘Do you really think you’ll be able to sleep in that place?’

    ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned.

    ‘I want you to feel safe tonight,’ he explained softly. ‘Please let me bring you to my home so you may get the rest you deserve.’

    ‘Dr Nox, I don’t think that’s really necessary,’ I heard the sound of the front door to the building opening and closing and it only made me dash up the last few flights of stairs a bit quicker. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I called.’

    ‘Jessica, you called me for a reason, if you won’t allow me to bring you to my home, then let me come to yours to make sure you are unharmed.’

    I quickly got the door open and I didn’t feel much safer, even after securing the locks, I just didn’t quite feel like I was going to get the rest I needed.

    ‘Fine.’ I breathed and sat back against the back of my sofa, watching the door for whenever Dr Nox arrived and knocked. He hung up immediately and I suddenly felt incredibly alone.

    It felt like the longest time between dropping the phone and the gentlest knock I’d ever heard at my front door. I slowly stood up, making sure to stay as silent as I could before looking through the peephole to see the front of Nox’s grey shirt. I opened the door to find he was in his work out gear, sweaty grey t-shirt beneath his black hoodie and black shorts. His grey trainers looked well worn and I realised that he must have been in the middle of a work out when I phoned.

    ‘Are you hurt?’ Nox asked, closing the door and securing all the locks while I backed into the back of my sofa.

    ‘No, I’m fine.’ I said, quietly.

    He had a gentle look to him, his pale eyes were softening as his breathing began to even out. ‘You’re shaking.’ He said gently. ‘Sit down.’

    I looked down at my hands which were in fact shaking, how did I not notice that? I frowned and just watched them for a moment. I was startled by the fact that Dr Nox’s soft fingers were grazing over my hands, I felt a warmth seeping through me which settled me somewhat, but I still wasn’t sure.

    ‘Jessica.’ His voice was low and penetrating. I took my hands away and sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

    ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt you.’ I said, quietly, leaning on my small table. ‘I shouldn’t have called.’

    ‘I would rather you interrupt me than once again get hurt by those men.’ Why was he being so kind to me?

    ‘I appreciate that, thank you.’ What else should I have said?

    ‘Perhaps a shower would help.’

    ‘The water’s off until morning.’ I shook my head, the water never worked in the evening hours and I never really cared, it was just something I got used to.

    Nox said nothing, but I felt him approach me slowly. ‘Do you have anything to stop the shaking? Or to help you sleep tonight?’

    ‘I’ll be alright, I just need to rest and let myself drift off.’ I stood up straight and stretched my neck a little.

    ‘How can you drift off with that racket going on around you?’ He was standing directly behind me and I could feel his body heat radiating off of him. It wasn’t until he said it that I realised there was a lot of noise coming from all around me, I hated it and I hated that it comforted me in a way.

    ‘It’s not so bad.’ I turned slowly to face him, he wasn’t nearly as close as I thought he was. ‘You get used to it.’

    ‘I would rather you didn’t.’

    I folded my arms and frowned at him. ‘Why are you being so kind to me?’

    ‘Would you prefer me not to be?’

    ‘No, I just… I’ve not given you any reason to be like this.’

    Dr Nox half laughed, half sighed at me. ‘Do you honestly think I would need a reason to be kind to you? Jessica, you have allowed me to continue my work undisturbed, something I have not had the pleasure of doing since I started my research. I want to thank you in any way I can.’

    I tried to figure out what his game was and why he was standing in front of me the way he was, looking gentle and being soft with me.

    ‘Dr Nox, I don’t need you to thank me-‘

    ‘Alexander.’ He interrupted. ‘If you feel more comfortable addressing me as Dr Nox, then that is your choice, but my name is Alexander.’

    I thought about it for a moment. I’d never called him by his first name before, I never had reason to. ‘Would you like me to use it?’

    It looked almost like he was at a loss, did he really not know what to say?

    ‘Yes.’ He breathed. ‘Very much so.’ He swallowed thickly and I was unsure of what was going through his head. ‘Please stay with me tonight, let me at least feel like I’m helping you.’

    I turned away, the shaking reduced a considerable amount since talking with Dr Nox. If it made him feel better, then maybe that was enough to ensure he was happy enough to work the next day.

    ‘I’m not happy about this,’ I said. ‘But fine. If it’ll make you feel better.’

    I turned back to see him trying not to grin, it almost made me lose my own composure.

    ‘Let me just get some stuff.’

    ‘Of course.’ He nodded, looking fairly pleased with himself.

    I shook my head and wandered into my bedroom to grab a few things I would need for staying the night at Dr Nox’s home. It really only occurred to me at that moment that I didn’t know where he lived, what I actually needed and what he really had planned. I was a little worried, but then again, nothing he had ever done made me feel like I was in any danger, ever.

    ‘Jessica?’ I heard him at the door to my bedroom and suddenly realised that I hadn’t packed a single thing.

    ‘Yeah, I’m just coming.’ I said and threw a few clothes into a bag, leaving the safety of my messy and small bedroom.

    ‘You’re ready?’

    ‘Yeah, let’s go.’ I said and felt him gently take my duffel bag from me. ‘You don’t need to-‘

    ‘I want to.’ He smiled, softly. ‘Please indulge me for a while.’

    I rolled my eyes and half laughed, again, knowing that this was what he was like when he cared.

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[someprideandprejudice]

My favorite thing about reading is watching the plot unfold–how little things cascade into entire arcs and stories and how something seemingly insignificant becomes foreshadowing in hindsight.

The food I mainly eat is fanfiction–something I’ve been consuming for as long as I remember and can’t see myself stopping any time soon. I love knowing the basis of the story and the characters and seeing how other people will change and add to what’s already there and make it unique. The downside of fanfiction, however, is that because you already know the story, you’re never truly surprised by what’s being written. It’s why I appreciate it so much when I see someone take a risk in their story and have it pay back tenfold–plot twists and foreshadowing is something I’ve mostly only seen professional writers pull off, so to see someone as normal and fandom-obsessed as me do the same always fills me with awe.

Jane Austen was a professional author. She’d written many books and it’s no surprise she was able to pull off all these plot devices either. The first one I’d really noticed was Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s first meeting, where Elizabeth overhears Mr. Darcy say something not very flattering about her and the impression of him being a cold, prideful man gets set into her mind.

By itself this event would instill some dislike in another person, but it’s due to this impression Elizabeth has for him that she becomes easier susceptible to claims of his wrongs. Not only does she sus out everything he does, she outright and immediately believes Mr. Wickham when he tells her that Mr. Darcy had wronged him simply because she had an opinion of him that might have supported those actions of his, as well as already having a favorable opinion of Mr. Wickham, who she thought could do no wrong.

Her bad impression of him had set the ball rolling, her hatred for him growing, and Mr. Darcy sat there being totally oblivious. If I think about it objectively, it’s a little funny.

On the note of Mr. Darcy, though, another little detail I’d noticed was when Elizabeth went to go see Jane at Netherfield when she was sick. Mr. Darcy was writing a letter and Miss Bingley was complimenting the hell out of him before going and teasing Mr. Bingley. It was a small moment, but I thought it was a nice detail when, later, Mr. Darcy gives Elizabeth a letter to explain himself and clear their misunderstandings. Mr. Darcy is notoriously antisocial, and he explicitly wrote the letter so he could easier say what he needed to instead of apparently fumbling his way through speaking and accidentally offending Elizabeth again.

Seriously, Mr. Darcy is the biggest mood and I love him for it.

I like being able to pick out the little moments and details that can hold significance later in stories. They may seem insignificant, but that feeling you get when you look back and see the moment a climax began due to a little pebble rolling will never not amaze me.

[lindevi]

Media Favorites of 2023

Who can't believe that 2023 is nearly over? *raises hand* As the year winds down, this seems like the time to reflect on the things that helped us or brought us joy. The following is a list (not exhaustive) of my favorite apps, books, music, TV, and video games from the last year, including many that I would recommend to others. You can find my list from 2021 here. (I missed compiling this list in 2022, in no small part because I was sampling eastern Germany’s best Christmas Markets all through December.)

Apps

Airalo. My new go-to for international data, but you’ll need an unlocked phone. I was able to save a ton of money by setting up a second e-SIM to access Japanese mobile data networks. (It cost $10 for 10GB of data across 30 days, which was plenty for the week I spent there, and much cheaper compared to my phone plan’s offerings.) I wish I’d heard of this before my trips to England and Europe this year, but I was able to try it out in Japan successfully. I’ll definitely be making use of this app when traveling in the future. The only downside is that I can’t have both e-sims active, so I had to restart my phone in order to check my text messages. Luckily, most communication is done over apps these days instead of SMS, so I wasn’t missing much.

​Reverso. This app pulled more than its weight for me while I was traveling abroad this summer. The thing I liked most about it is how it pulls up example sentences so you can help see the context and usage of a given word. It also saves your searches for you, so if you were a more disciplined language student than me, you could write down any new vocabulary in a notebook to study later. Also, it’s free and works fairly well offline, and it’s able to handle multiple languages in the same app.

Vivino. When in France, drink as the French do, I suppose. But when you’re at the supermarket trying to decide between the many, many wines available for less than 10€, this app helps to narrow down the field. Scanning the label gives you the user score for that vintage, plus a personalized rating for how it compares to previous wines you’ve enjoyed. By rating the wines I tried, I was able to get a better sense of my preferred styles and remember which labels to avoid in the future. It was also excellent to have on hand when we went to Bordeaux and sampled various Grand Crus. The app helped me to get a sense for how much those bottles would fetch back home, and whether it was worth it to buy it in France to bring home or to seek it out at my local liquor store.

Books

​Dracula by Bram Stoker. The vampire book that started it all (well, not quite), this one really does live up to its reputation as a classic. A few years ago, I read Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars and enjoyed it tremendously (it even served as the inspiration for a Dark Sun one-shot scenario I wrote based around Queen Tara), so I’m not sure what took me so long to get to Dracula. The epistolary style is really well done and should serve as a reference point for any game masters who long to add handouts to their campaigns. It’s inspired me to try running Night’s Black Agents in the new year.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Apparently this book is the first in an urban fantasy series I’ve been sleeping on for some time. The easy comparison is Storm Front, the first book in the Dresden Files, but I have to say that this one comes out on top re: modern wizard investigator stories, mostly because of the protagonist’s sense of humor and the audiobook narrator’s brilliant delivery. I think fans of British TV will find themselves very much at home with this book. I had the happy accident of being in London while reading this, and I had been exploring Covent Garden and the alleys surrounding the Royal Opera House immediately before reading the finale, which helped tremendously when picturing the final scenes.

Slaying the Dragon by Ben Riggs. With the news of the recent Hasbro layoffs affecting the D&D team at Wizards of the Coast, this book feels like required reading to understand some of the boom and bust cycles of D&D (although, sadly, D&D seems to be doing better than ever, and the layoffs appear to be mandated to help cover losses elsewhere in the company). It’s hard to fact-check/cross-reference this book because so much of it is original research and interviews done by the author, but that’s precisely why it’s a must-read for fans of the franchise.

Music

All Quiet on the Western Front (Soundtrack from the Netflix Film). One word: haunting. The main “melody” is extremely simplistic, but it fits the subject matter so well. I also recommend the movie if you play any 20th century-based wargames or read any history. I found it interesting that this was only the first time a German production company adapted it from the book.

Seelie by CLANN. I’m not sure how to categorize this album, except it’s incredibly ambient and dark and pagan (especially Celtic). The tracks all kind of blend together in a good way, making it excellent for writing or focus work.

Gris (Original Game Soundtrack). Another great soundtrack I put on repeat this year, mostly while reading. It’s melancholic, sweeping, hopeful. I’ve never played the video game, but if it’s half as good as the score, it’ll be quite good.

Movies/TV

​Barbie. I went for a “Barbenheimer” double-feature this summer, and I did not expect Barbie to hit way harder than Oppenheimer did. Ryan Gosling might have stolen the show, but the story and the feels really made this movie stay with us. Coming from a franchise development/IP approval perspective (and this is where I have to do the disclaimer that my opinions are my own, I’m not speaking on behalf of my employer Asmodee), I’m shocked that Mattel let this get made, but I’m so glad they did.

Blue Eye Samurai. (Netflix) I had little idea this was coming until a few weeks before the release, but this show blew me away and shattered any expectations I had for it. The character development, the animation, the voice acting, the themes… it’s hard to find faults with the show (although, perhaps Mizu’s ending was unexpected). If you enjoy samurai cinema or anime, if you’re at all interested in the history of Japan, or if you’re simply an appreciator of animation, this is a must-watch.

​Vienna Blood. (PBS) I like to joke that I have a grandmother’s taste in TV, because BBC/ITV period dramas make up so much of my streaming diet, but this is a mystery/detective show first and foremost. Instead of Sherlock and Watson, you’ve got Detective Rheinhardt and Max Liebermann. Max is a Jew in 1900s Vienna and a student of Freud’s work, with the psychoanalysis lending the show an interesting frame, but I’ve also really appreciated how important his family is to the show. I’ve found it really fascinating how they explore the many peoples of the Austro-Hungarian empire before its collapse, and it’s made me want to run a Cthulhu by Gaslight campaign in Vienna (elements of which I might pull forward into the NBA game).

Video Games

​Baldur’s Gate 3. (PC) It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone whose hobbies center on Dungeons & Dragons and other roleplaying games should thoroughly enjoy this game, but I’m certain that even folks who have never rolled a d20 will be delighted by this CRPG from Larian Studios. The writing and voice performances are phenomenal, and the sheer amount of content (and thus, replayability) is staggering. I’ve logged over 60 hours playing and can easily see myself playing for 60 more. I’ve only just started Act II, so no spoilers, please!

Horizon: Forbidden West. (PS5) I was a bit of a latecomer to this game after it released in 2023, but once I started, I could barely put it down. Amazing characters? Check. Phenomenal gameplay? Check. Open-world exploration that actually evokes the feeling of discovery? Check. My only quibble is that the story isn’t quite as brilliant as the first game, but given that the first game was a masterpiece and easily in my top 5 games of all time, that’s a high bar to clear. I admit I bought a PlayStation 5 just so I could play the Burning Shores expansion when it came out in April, and while personally I had been shipping Aloy with Kotallo, I appreciate the romantic subplot being included.

What were some of your favorites from 2023? Did your list have any of the same titles as mine?

Featured image by Alisa Anton on Unsplash