#was that part about my taste in men really necessary

[newjenns]

hey it’s dd just want to say thanks for all the support 🙏🏻🙏🏻ur blog was the first mcyt i found when i used tumblr again last year bc i just looked for who had cracked goated urls. sent u an anon that asked if you were single bc i had never seen an ask blog before (ask limit was 10 Back In My Days) and unfortunately now i’ve seen ur taste in men so i think i’m probably out of the running but anyway yeah thanks queen. if u ever want to move with that old url into something i’ve got a great address u can post there 💓

hey really glad i could be a positive impact on the community as a whole 👍

[shomatoriashi]

12/27/24; 10:00am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ nightly rendezvous ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: lmao i’m going to try my best to get everyone’s card, but if it doesn’t happen, at least i can say i wrote the appropriate drabbles for my fave lads men (⺣◡⺣)♡ this is nowhere close to canon and is just written for my own, self-indulgence ♡ this is currently an unedited mess of a thirst post, but i'll make any necessary changes when this is posted.

warnings: blood mention in rafayel's.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

seeing your form in such a tight dress was doing things to sylus, making his mind go hazy as a considerable tent was seen against the front of his dress pants-

which put a considerable damper on his plans.

there was party going on tonight to celebrate the new year, however, just seeing your delectable form dressed in such pretty silk made him think of other plans to tend to. as you brush back your hair, sylus steps closer to you, planting his lips against the side of your neck while huskily whispering your name.

"i've changed my mind. perhaps we can stay inside instead." you tremble, feeling the way sylus slides his hand down your form, tracing at your figure as you were left clinging to the edge of the bathroom counter.

"what do you mean, sy?" a shiver runs through you when he presses a lingering kiss against your temple, "what i mean is... i would much rather keep you here with me, where i ravish you on our bed instead of spending our time surrounded by a crowd."

a gasp manages to escape from your parted lips when sylus carries you within his powerful embrace, forcing your arms to wrap around his neck when he holds your high heels with his free hand. the mere sight of his dilated eyes and labored breathing causes a new wave of desire to course through you, causing you to lean forward as you pressed a series of kisses against the base of his throat.

you could feel the vibrations of his rich laughter against your lips as he gently grips at your waist, "if you don't wish to lie down, we better make the most of our time before dawn."

arriving at his bedroom, he tosses aside your heels while settling himself against a chair, pulling you into his lap while delving his fingers into your hair. heat courses through your veins when you felt his clothed erection brushing against your inner thigh. the sudden friction causes you to bite down on your bottom lip as you settle yourself directly over him, grinding your stained panties against his erection.

another rich chuckle fills your ears, and you found yourself giving in to sylus's own desires, not even caring about the party as you sought your own release. your lover continues to coax you, bringing your body impossibly closer to his when his lips crashes into yours in a searing kiss. "you really don't want me to leave, do you?" he murmurs against your lips, making you let out a shuddering breath in response.

your moans echo throughout the room, allowing sylus's desperate kiss to further fuel the ache between your legs. he delves his tongue within you, tasting you fully while standing back to his full height. he doesn't break his connection with you, blindly taking you to bed as he falls with you against the plush mattress.

sylus was the first to pull away from the kiss, his smirk growing ever so slightly at the sight of your swollen lips left in the wake of his passionate kiss. he traces at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, saying your name with an amused chuckle as he slides up the fabric of your dress. "you haven't changed your mind, have you...?"

words failed you, and you could only manage to give him a mere shake of your head, feeling his large hand cup at your knee before spreading your legs fully for him. without removing your dress, a sly expression was seen on his face when he manages to grip at the waistband of your panties before pulling it down with one, swift motion.

his actions makes your breathing hitch, with your hands gripping at the sheets below you. hunger paints his every expression when he unbuttons his dress shirt while adjusting his pants. "looks like i can't hold back any longer, kitten."

never once breaking eye contact with you, you gasp the moment sylus pushes his cock deep inside of you, the squelching sounds of your walls clenching around him causes red hot pleasure to blossom throughout your very veins. his pace was slow, yet oh so steady and powerful that you could feel each and every inch of him. his shaft purposely brushes against your hardened clit, making your soft mewls turn into cries of desperation for him.

and when sylus kept you in his bed, you willingly welcomed in the new year by getting impaled over and over again by the man you have always loved.

zayne's eyes darkened, watching you converse with his male colleagues as he felt the tendrils of envy slowly taking a hold of his heart.

when he invited you as his plus one for this conference, all he wanted was to keep you by his side at all times. yet the moment he had to leave to discuss some matters with the other physicians-

they had to surround you, like vultures getting their taste of fresh meat.

adjusting his glasses, zayne takes quick strides towards you, standing protectively in front of you while stiffly telling the other man, "she's with me."

he doesn't wait for the other man to respond, simply whisking you away from the ballroom as you struggled to keep up with his steps. your confused cries of his name falls on deaf ears as zayne wraps his arms around your frame, choosing to carry you bridal style when he enters the elevators. a strange sense of urgency fills him when he hits the button leading to his floor where all he could think about was erasing that man's casual touch-

running on autopilot, zayne quickly swipes his key card and enters his room before slamming the door shut. once he was alone with you, he pins you against the desk, the jealousy felt burning through his veins as it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "you belong to me, you know that, right?"

his hand grips at your chin, meeting your captivating gaze as you give him a simple nod, "of course, always- but why are you so-"

you gasp when he leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. zayne knew that this wasn't his typical behavior, yet when it came to you (always always always you) he couldn't stop himself. he allows the tip of his tongue to trace at the border of your lips, diving inside the moment you opened up for him.

when the need for air proves to be too much, the man reluctantly pulls away first, lips already latching on to your shoulder while telling you, "i'll admit there's something undeniably addictive about stepping out of line..."

with a click of his tongue, he takes off his glasses before shamelessly breathing in your scent, basking in the way your body trembles oh so sweetly for him with anticipation. as if drunk off of your mere presence, he trails kisses down your body, lingering against your heaving breasts as he nuzzles his face against your skin, "because of you... everything is spiraling out of control."

he feels the way your body writhes beneath him, becoming dimly aware of your words when you tell him, "zayne, i can't think straight... y-you probably had too much to drink-" a gasp manages to escape from you the moment he cups the area between your legs, feeling his fingertips explore the dampness stained against your panties.

"are you trying to escape? you keep saying that i'm drunk. so, must i always stay sober?" zayne shakes his head while letting out a bitter laugh. "as if i could ever stay sober while in your presence."

he suddenly carries you toward the bedroom, forcing your arms to wrap around his neck to help with steadying yourself. "this is all your doing... did you want to see me like this? all needy and desperate for you?"

with the bed in sight, zayne settles you at the edge of it. your eyes refused to look away from him when he takes off the rest of his clothes as he allows the fabric to fall to the ground. your throat turns dry, seeing his proud erection settled between his legs as your walls clenched almost painfully with need in response.

you allow zayne's large hands to grip at the fabric of your dress, sliding it off of you while leaving you bare except for your heels that was left hanging by your ankles. with a reverent touch, zayne frames at your face before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds, moving deep inside of you with an expertise of a man who was achingly obsessed with you.

the force of his movements makes your heaving breasts bounce in response, feeling his cock invade every inch of you as you kept on crying out to him. taking advantage of his own strength, zayne grips at your backside to thrust into you even further, basking in the silky feel of your walls wrapped so tightly around him.

"you're mine..." zayne repeats that single phrase over and over again throughout the night, never once stopping as you were given little choice but to surrender yourself to his every desire.

xavier couldn't contain himself the moment you both came home from the new years eve party held by the association-

everything about you set his heart aflame. from your kind smile to the beautiful dress that hugged your form-

xavier was completely obsessed with you. desire was felt coursing through his veins, yet he had to behave and act cordial throughout the party, allowing you to catch up with friends while eating the delicious catering provided at the party.

but now that he manages to convince you to come home with him, he was ready to pounce on you, to trap you in his arms as he kept you with him until he was satisfied.

becoming dimly aware of your attempts at banter with him, xavier simply basks in the sweet sounds of your voice before allowing his hands to grip at your knees. "don't move... and don't say a word."

he gestures at you to lay back against his bed all while pulling your legs closer to him. "uhm... xavier, what are you... doing?"

xavier simply hums while spreading your legs, "you know what i'm about to do, starlight." once your thighs were spread for him, he grips at your panties and slides them off of you, allowing them to hang precariously against your ankles before kneeling in front of you. he breathes in the sweet scent of your center before surging forward, allowing his tongue to trace at your pussy lips.

you cried out to him, forcing yourself to keep quiet as you bit down at the back of your hand. xavier's tongue was felt traveling inside of your slick heat, drawing out even more of your arousal. your thighs automatically trap him against your heat, feeling the way you shamelessly grind on his face, trying to reach your high.

yet the moment xavier pinches at your swollen clit, you lost control of all of your senses, climaxing into his awaiting mouth. your boyfriend drinks up everything you had to offer with a grunt of your name, and you successfully became putty in his hands.

a dazed expression was seen on your face when xavier picks you up, carrying you towards the wall before pressing your front against it. a low hiss escapes from your parted lips when you felt the cold seep into you, further hardening your nipples when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you. you look off to the side, only to let out a breathless moan when you felt xavier's cock enter you from this new angle.

he thrusts the entirety of his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace, fucking you into the wall as you saw stars with each new movement. trembling at all of the sensations that invade you each time xavier's hips met with yours, you nearly fell to the ground had it not been for xavier's tight grip around your waist.

"you feel so good..." his hot whisper was settled against your ear as tears of pleasure cascades down your cheeks, with xavier kissing every salty droplet away before admitting to you, "and it looks like i won't be easily satisfied tonight..."

"this is my room, you're the one that walked in here." his powerful arms were felt wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him when he whispers in your ear, "so, you'll take responsibility for whatever happens, right?"

rafayel was completely correct in his assumptions, that you had willingly come into his room with the sole purpose of seducing him.

something about his casual smile seen during the whole exhibit made a surge of yearning course through you, being captivated by his every movement. your gaze never once strayed too far away from him, as your mind kept fantasizing of ways to get him beneath you-

yet it seemed like your fantasies were quick to become a reality when rafayel crashes his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. you moan at the sensation, opening up to him only to playfully bite against his bottom lip. a gasp was heard coming from the lemurian, with him moving away from you to touch at his bottom lip.

a single droplet of blood was seen forming against his lip as a devilish thought comes to you. with a soft giggle, you lean forward to press another chaste kiss against his lips all while licking that single droplet away, earning a groan from him as you pulled away.

"what a naughty princess you are." he manages to whisper against your ear before tightly wrapping his arms around you, leading you towards the bed while keeping you pressed against him. you hear him letting out a hum of your name, settling you on his lap while giving you a series of playful kisses against your lips.

once.

twice.

then three times-

his kisses were no heavier than dew, leaving you wanting for more each time-

your hands shakily frame at his face, with your eyes narrowed in response before managing to push him back against the bed. his dress shirt remains open for you, and you could see the insignia glowing a faint, orange hue against his chest. rafayel meets your gaze through his thick lashes, allowing your lips to perfectly slot against his in a deep kiss that conveyed your hunger for him.

you kept kissing him, not stopping even when the need for air was burning through your lungs. you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him, allowing his hands to delve into your hair before suddenly shifting you once more, leaving your back pressed against the bed with rafayel now hovering over you.

"i've changed my mind..." he places a lingering kiss at the back of your hand before breaking what appeared to be a silver bracelet, tossing it aside while settling himself between your legs, "i'm not going anywhere."

the ache felt between your legs becomes even more prominent, watching rafayel's every movement when he adjusts the fabric of his pants, freeing his cock as he worked on stroking himself to full hardness. neither of you were thinking clearly, and when you felt his large hand move your panties to the side before quickly impaling you-

your back arches against the bed in response, allowing rafayel to use your body for his own pleasure. you felt each and every swift pound against you, the sounds of your walls eagerly taking him in each time his hips met with your own was enough to make your juices surround him before staining at the sheets below you.

achingly aware of each and every response your body had to him, rafayel shakes his head while his hands grip at the sheets next to you. "fuck- this feels too good, way too good than normal." as if getting drunk off of the pleasure you were giving him, rafayel takes a hold of one of your legs before tossing it over his shoulder. with this new position, rafayel was felt reaching even deeper inside of you as you were certain your pleasure had increased by the tenfold as the tip of his cock was felt hitting that special spot over and over again, making you lost count the amount of times you had released yourself on him-

needless to say, you didn't get much sleep that night.

end notes: girlies.... all of my lads girlies.... HOW ARE WE FEELING AFTER THE REVEAL OF THAT BANNER HHHHHHH??? 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[airybcby]

Now I'm Covered In You

(bllk boys as boyfriends)

a / n — thought making another post in this form would be fun, so i hope you enjoy!

content — bllk characters x reader, gn! reader, pet names used in a few parts, sadly canon otoya i fear, misspelled words are there for a reason i swear, cheater! otoya and oliver, some characters repeated, lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — bllk boys and what type of boyfriend they'd be

✿.｡. “ how's one to know? ” .｡.✿

—The Romantic One

is always planning surprises for you, and i mean always. there's not a single week where you aren't being taken on 'adventures' that always lead you to a different restaurant.

what's the point in having all this money and not spending it on you?

they are constantly writing you love letters and poems. well, they try to anyway. they're not the best with their words and with many spelling mistakes, rather liking to show with actions, but they tried for you.

usually their poems end up something like this

' roses are red

so is my heart

my darling

my deer

my sweet buttercup

you taste just like a

tasty soda pop '

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI, shido ryusei, jyubei aryu, ALEXIS NESS

— The Player

you know the famous saying, "how you get them is how you lose them?" yeah that's exactly how this relationship is.

you'd been one of their many side quests while they had a relationship going on. eventually after they'd ended said relationship, they'd chose you as their next partner.

they do spoil you with many gifts, mostly after you catch them cheating on you for the umpteenth time, but you stayed because they 'loved you'

sure they told you they loved you, but that wasn't really the case when they'd broken up with you because you were 'boring' them.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ OTOYA EITA, oliver aiku

— The Protector

is constantly worrying about you and is looking out for your safety.

with them being this 'big bad' soccer player, many people refuses to even look you in the eyes when you were with them. but if someone dared to hit on you when they walk off for a second? please pray for them.

some guy could be asking you for directions and he'd come up behind you and wrap an arm around you without even uttering a word. you didn't have to look at them to know the look they were giving the man was nothing but deadly.

some may call it controlling, but you knew them, they just wanted to keep you safe from all these men.

you had him, who else would you need?

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, rin itoshi, SHOEI BARO, tabito karasu

— The Funny (insane) One

is constantly making jokes- some that aren't funny - but you laugh anyways.

everyone always asks you how your relationship is doing so well, and the answer is always, " i don't know," because you genuinely don't. yes, the two of you get into arguments, and sometimes the two of you get heated enough to have to take time apart from each other, but you always come back together.

how?

because they always forget what the fight was even about and come back into your space to show you some cat meme they believe you would like.

and the two of you laugh until you feel better again.

maybe you don't know how your relationship is so healthy, but you know why you're happy.

because they take the time to make you laugh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU, RYUSEI SHIDO, gin gagamaru, seishiro nagi

— The Traditional One

dates. Dates. DATES!!

they took you on soooo many dates before officially asking you to be their partner.

they definitely give the vibes of "my mom taught me i needed to..."

just the best gentleman!

you need to step over a puddle? they're putting their jacket down over it for you (it wasn't necessary, but they insisted on it)

you talked about wanting to see a movie once? he's already bought the tickets.

if you get married? he's insisting you stay home

" a pretty face like you doesn't need to work, i'll provide us everything." in his words

will do anything for you, really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ YUKIMIYA KENYU, michael kaiser (pls ignore the mom part), REO MIKAGE, oliver aiku (again)

✿.｡. “ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[p0orbaby]

Little fic where is alexia dating an English player who finds it difficult how affectionate Spanish people are with each other. Alexia having to reassure her that it’s a Spanish thing and she’ll try to be less touchy etc.

-

You’re not sure when exactly it starts to get on your nerves, but by the time you notice, you’re on a sun-bleached terrace in Barcelona, watching Alexia kiss three people hello in under five minutes. It's an odd thing to obsess over, and yet here you are, eyes narrowed as you sip on an overpriced cortado that tastes like dust and regret. You’re not jealous. Of course not. That would be absurd. You’re simply... perplexed by the excessive touching, the relentless stream of hugs, kisses, and arm squeezes that seem to form the bedrock of Spanish existence. Everyone’s always touching someone.

In England, a handshake is intimate enough, and in London, where you’re from, if anyone dared speak before your tea even cooled, you’d probably alert the authorities. But here? It's practically a greeting card in motion. You’ve seen grown men embrace in the street like they’ve just survived a shipwreck. It's baffling.

Alexia sits down across from you, smiling in that way that makes you feel foolish for being annoyed by anything. She’s impossibly beautiful, and the knowledge of that fact gnaws at you constantly. She’s all golden skin and nonchalance, legs casually crossed, one hand fiddling with her sunglasses as if she’s in some sort of commercial for ‘cool.’

“Are you okay?” she asks, her accent making every word sound softer than it should be, like it's wrapped in velvet. She’s genuinely concerned, or she’s pretending really well. You can’t tell which.

“Yeah,” you say. “Fine”

And then, because you’re not actually fine: “Do you have to kiss everyone?”

She looks at you like you’ve just asked if the sky is blue. “It’s how we greet people here”

“I know that,” you say, setting your cup down with more force than necessary. “But does it have to be every time? You’ve kissed three strangers today already, and it’s not even noon”

Alexia blinks at you, then laughs. “It’s just being polite”

Polite? You're thinking. In England, you say "hi" and move on with your day. No one has to swap saliva to prove they like you. But this? This is something else.

“Well, it’s... it’s excessive.” You try to explain, gesturing vaguely in the air like you can catch the sheer madness of it all. “People just... touch all the time. And I’m not used to it”

Alexia’s mouth twitches, trying to suppress a smile. “We’re just more affectionate”

“Affectionate?” you say. “It’s like a plague of hand-holding and cheek-kissing”

She finally lets out a laugh, full-bodied, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle. “You sound like an old lady”

“Maybe I am,” you mutter, trying to keep a straight face. “Maybe England has made me emotionally unavailable”

Alexia reaches out to touch your arm, then stops, hesitating, her hand hovering mid-air like she’s not sure if it’ll set you off again. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no,” you sigh, waving her hand toward you, now feeling like the crazy one. “It’s fine. Just... give me a heads-up before the next 12-person cuddle fest”

She grins, leaning back. “I can try”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “You’re so annoying”

“And you love it

You do. And you hate that you do, which is probably the worst part of all this. She knows you’re wound too tight for your own good, and she’s infinitely more relaxed about everything, like the world bends to her will instead of the other way around.

You finish your cortado, now cold. “You realise you kissed the barista on the way in, right?”

Alexia nods, grinning wickedly. “She made my coffee right”

You groan, but you’re laughing, which only encourages her. “I’m never letting you set foot in the UK again”

“That’s fine,” she says, leaning in, all confidence. “Spain suits you better anyway. You just don’t know it yet”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE *  assorted dialogue from the book by sally rooney, some lines slightly changed to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary

i'm not a religious person, but i do sometimes think god made you from me.

i have a sense that real life is happening somewhere far away, happening without me, and i don't know if i will ever found out where it is or become part of it.

no one can be independent of other people completely.

life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.

he probably won't come back.

what we have now, we can never have back again.

for me, the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain i used to feel, of being unworthy.

we've done a lot of good for each other.

people can really change one another.

you should go. i'll always be here. you know that.

generally i find men are a lot more concerned with limiting the freedoms of women than exercising personal freedom for themselves.

most people go through their whole lives without ever really feeling that close with anyone.

life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.

even in memory, i will always find that moment unbearably intense.

i have never believed i'm fit to be loved by any person.

yes. that was it. the beginning of my life.

it's funny the decisions you make because you like someone.

your whole life is different.

i think we're at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.

if people appear to behave pointlessly in grief, it's only because human life is pointless, and this is the truth that grief revealed.

i don't know what's wrong with me.

i don't know why i can't be like normal people.

it feels powerful to put an experience down in words.

people are a lot more knowable than they think they are.

there's always been something inside me that men have wanted to dominate.

i want my life to mean something.

a lot of the literary people in college see books primarily as a way of appearing cultured.

that's the only part of myself i want to protect, the part that exists inside you.

there's something so corrupt and sexy about it.

i wish you didn't have to go.

i wish you could stay the night.

life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.

literature moves me.

it almost sounds sexual.

you learn nothing very profound about yourself simply by being bullied.

it's time you'll never get back.

time is real. the money is also real.

we've done a lot of good for each other.

the snow keeps falling.

hopefully i have changed, you know, as a person. but honestly, if i have, it's because of you.

he does have immaculate taste.

it's not like this with other people.

[name], would you ever fuck off?

you lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you.

i would lie down and die for you at any minute.

sometimes, someone will make eye contact with me, like a bus conductor or a person looking for change, and i'll feel shocked that anyone can actually see me.

we could be in a room full of people and my eyes would always meet yours, just to find that you had already been looking.

there's something comforting about it, something good about feeling sort of numb, detached from it all.

it was different with you, didn't have to play any games with you. it was just real.

no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. everything's gonna be all right. trust me.

i love you, and i'm not gonna let anything like that happen to you again.

we have done so much good for one another.

[dragonsoulage]

The sweetest treat of all...you

feat. L Lawliet

What better way could exist then to get himself focused again, then to have the sweetest treat of all to himself? His sweet maid that was devine in every way.

Hello together, in this short story you are a maid from L. And well idk for some reason I just really craved something like this xD so I hope you enjoy, this is btw my first kinda smutty thing I wrote so here we are ☠️ and I suck in proof reading lol.

MDNI

Warnings: It's smut, oral sex (f recieving), squirting, fingering

Wordcount: 2,2k

You never thought you would end up right here now when you were employed as a personal maid to the one and only L. You were indeed absolutely fitting, a good maid, kept everything clean, and you were just seen when necessary. You worked quickly and efficiently. Even when you weren't a part of the task force—that way, everyone adored you. It was nearly like you knew what everyone needed. Always doing your work with such determination and devotion. You always put up with L's quirks. Like serving everything he needed, you learned how he liked it. Leanred how he functioned. You never knew why, though, but you did what would help him to solve the case. Serving tea at the perfect temperature. Bringing the cake, he probably would like the most right in this moment. Although you sometimes even worried a little since he worked nonstop.

But oh little did you know a way to unwind would be him nose deep inside your cute pussy.

You were on the couch, his slender fingers grabbing your thighs, spread out for him. After all, you were his personal maid; you were there to fulfill his every need, right? You were already squirming, and your hands tugged gently on his fluffy raven hair as he shamelessly wiped his tongue over your pussy. "So sweet..." You heard him mumble before he drove right back in. And this went on...for like forever. You already had like your 3rd orgasm. But the detective had other plans. For some reason, he developed a liking for you. Indeed, he was really aware of that and tried to observe what was happening to him when he saw you. Or simply, when he got a whiff of your perfume because you stood next to him, he always turned his head to look at your adorable face.

Although it was so not for him to just get attached to someone, he got attached to you. You have done your job for a while now. Always so good and responsible. He never complained about you. He felt urges. He usually never felt at all. Like the feeling he wanted to taste you. Since men in his surroundings spoke about eating out pussy and how sweet it would taste. L liked sweet treats; they helped him to concentrate.

And you, for sure, were adorable. So right the moment when you had served some cake, L turned around to you. "I would like to have another treat. Something that would help stimulate my brain a little more." He said to you in his monotone voice, looking at you with his dark eyes crouched in his chair. You smiled before you went through the options—what would be the best now, but he interrupted you.

L wasn't the social butterfly, so instead of beating around the bush, he was straight forward. "No cake indeed, and no candy. I would like to have you." His thumb was on his lower lip as always when he was thinking. He tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction. You were frozen for a second and then simply blinked at him. "W-what do you mean?" You asked, and your cheeks flushed with that cute pink shade. He fell for you even when L was so composed. The detecitve cleared his throat then. You had been a lot on his mind lately, and he couldn't afford distractions—the only way to not be distracted would be when he finally would satisfy a certain craving. "Please tell me when this is uncomfortable. I am simply not used to ask for things like that. And I will be perfectly fine when you say no. So don't hesitate or be afraid...to even say no." It was cute in his little weird way. Wanting to have you comfortable even when he did not know at all how he should ask about the fact he wanted his tongue deep inside your pussy.

"I... am listening, so please go on." You said you wiped your hands on your apron. You tried to gain back composure. "When you let me, I would like to taste your pussy." He finally said to you.

And then... God, you didn't even remember how you ended up shaking on the couch. You agreed yes, but he already got 3 orgasms out of you; you were only able to remember your own name. Your cute maid dress was raised up to your waist. Panties pulled down somewhere on the ground. His tongue lapping at your hot slit. Savoring every drop and taste that he could get from your pussy. And you, well, you were the best sweet treat he ever had. Better than any chocolate cake could be. He crouched in front of you on the floor. Just holding your thighs open, that sometimes tried to close because you were so overstimulated. And these cute little noises—he loved to simply listen to you.

"L...I can't take more." You whined your eyes shut close when you felt his tongue flicking over your poor clit. Your pussy is just so responsive to his touches; all his attention is now laid on you. A rare thing for the detective. "But I barley got a taste...besides that." The pale man between your legs spoke muffled against your soaping wet folds. Before his dark eyes looked up, trying to see your expression. "You look gorgeous when you cum. When I wouldn't be needed in other things, I probably would eat you out all day." He told you, and you got him hooked. Your pussy is sweeter than honey; his own personal meal only he could enjoy. His sweet maid being spread out for him, with that heaven between your legs. When he knew pussy eating would be such a thing for him, he would have done that sooner. Your back arched off again when he nibbled on your clit, your hands tugging on his hair, and he groaned when you pulled his head closer—so much to the fact you said you couldn't take any more. Your juices were running down his chin, and his tongue was plunging deep, wiggling its way inside. God, every time you tried to close your thighs as if you wanted to crush his head between your legs. Although he wouldn't mind that at all. But he kept your thighs wide open for better acces.

"Fuck, going to cum again when you don't stop...L...I am shaking." You moaned, barley, able to breathe properly. Before he simply pulled you closer on your hips, sucking your clit between his now glossy lips. "So damn devine..." He murmured while watching how your lips shaped in a pretty 'oh' because of his ministrations. And then you came again, hard and shaking, but not quiet the result he wanted. He wanted you to let go, to simply gush out on his face, and to cum. Just so he could slurp up your sweet juices. His face slowly faded away from your folds, looking at them and how damn sloppy he ate you out.

Before he lifted his head and L's thumb, smearing the combined juices along your cunt, you shuddered. "You can give me more, right?" He asked, his voice laced with a desire you never thought you would hear. You were so overstimulated that you shook your head, although secretly you wanted him to keep going. He lifted an eyebrow, and his lips formed a smirk before he wiped your juices off with his sleeve. "No? But I read about the fact that women can be brought to multiple orgasms until they simply burst. Kinda want to put that theory to the test, pretty maid." Usually, L wasn't one for nicknames, but after seeing how it affected you in moaning louder, he knew what he needed to say.

Curiously, he looked down at your bare cunt again. "Are you really going to try to make me squirt?" You asked just looking at him with these cum drunken doe eyes. So pretty. Alone every time you quivered, when his thumb circled your clit in slow circles, it made you clench around nothing. You squirmed nearly as if you wanted to run away. His arm held you still. "When this means I get a good taste of you again, then yes, I want to make you squirt." L meant before his slender fingers touched along your slit. His fingers are kind of long; probably they would reach that point that would make you a sobbing, sweet mess. All this just to satisfy his cravings. "I never did that before; probably it isn't going to work either." You wanted to explain, in your little shy and cute way, why you couldn't. But your pussy was already pulsating and dripping with need. But then two fingers interrupted you when they entered. Your pretty pussy clenching around them.

He worked his tongue on you. Two digits stretched you deliciously. His long and slender fingers had you gasping. And He watched closley how you reacted. So eager and so focused to make you squirt just so he could get all the candied nectar for himself. "So about that special spot, sweet girl." He started giving your swollen clit a short kiss before his lips were replaced with his thumb, which drew out some pressure on your bud. "I still need to locate it; make you all the more sensetive." L told you, and he tilted his wrist a little, and then, oh, he crooked his fingers. Your eyes widen with shock and bliss, your jaw hanging open before you wanted to throw back your head. "Think I found it." You could listen to the satisfied hum in his voice. And it had you moaning even louder, your chest heaving. Your pussy is so sloppy and wet. Squelching all around his fingers. "Fuck...oh God, fuck." Was all you could say. You looked away simply because you were so shy and literally were cumming on the hand and mouth from the world's best detective.

Until you felt another hand on your face, your chin, he gently grabbed as he averted to him. Besides the fact that L was aroused himself; he wanted you to come undone; it would be turning him on more than he said out loud. L wanted your eyes on him because it was just so cute how shy your face flushed. "Eyes on me, little maid. It increases the level of arousal by about 90 percent." He told you, his own erection straining against his pants. Your droopy eyes tried to look at him; oh, you struggled so adorable. While his fingers were pumping inside you, stroking that gummy part of you that made you see stars as you whimpered.

L found himself quiet fond of the way your striking eyes looked at him, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. Your plump lips parted. Before he lowered his head again, his tongue lapping out to flick over your poor swollen bud. His eyes still looking through his messy black hair watching you squirm and buck up your hips. You were so close, he could tell it. His movements with his fingers are simply growing to be more precise. So much so that you tried to take his hand from you, but he kept his fingers hooked inside your pussy. "It feels weird; I... am not going to last." You breathed out thighs shaking already, but he then sucked on your clit. "It's normal you feel that way. It is said that female orgasm can be quite powerful when stimulated in the right way. Just so much, you have the feeling you would burst." The usual so composed detective explains while still being busy with your pussy. "Come on, sweet maid, give me what I crave." L urged you, and oh, as on command, your orgasm rolled over you. Legs shaking and breath hitching. Your back arched off the couch. Your sweet juices gushing out slightly onto his face as he slurped up the syrupy juices from your cunt, indeed lapping up in every corner. You were devine, a treat he never would want to pass. His fingers allowed the pace to slow down before he slid them out. "Such a sweet girl." L murmured while he still kissed your spent pussy, still getting every last drop of you; nothing would go to waste. Finally, he had what he craved—the taste he yearned for so badly—this distraction was gone.

But as you watched him between your thighs, you weren't unaware of this immense bulge. Now L had another problem that would need to be satisfied by his cute maid. "Well, now it's your turn." You said and tilted your head. L caught a little off guard, as he was feeling the pulsing need in his loins. He sat there and analyzed you. But before he could say anything clever, you were a little faster. Maneuvered you two so you were now straddling his lap, grabbing his hands to lay them on your hips, when you started to ground slowly and sensually over his boner, still tugged away in his pants. "I heard that it increases the level of arousal by about 95 percent." You chuckled watching how he simply looked up at you, and there...a small whimper left his lips. "And 100 percent when I take your dick inside me." You were always a shy one, but right now, after you saw how greedy L was for your pussy, you got a moment of confidence. Wanting to make the analytical boy panting... 

[dhorrl]

NSFW Alphabet-Feitan Portor

I never write headcanons really, but this is a great way to me to workshop information for my Janitor AI characters as well. Enjoy! Trigger Warnings: It's Feitan, is his own trigger warning. Mentions of blood, torture, etc...

A = Aftercare

At first, when Feitan just pays for sex, he doesn't bother with aftercare. In his mind, that's already been taken care of by the transaction. But when he meets you and realizes you have more needs than just physical, he begins to pay attention to your well-being. He starts by checking your body for any injuries or cuts and making sure they are taken care of. If necessary, he will bandage them up. Afterwards, he'll carry you to the bath and make sure all traces of blood and fluids are washed away. For less intense encounters without any kink involved, it takes a while but he eventually learns to enjoy having his arm around you and nuzzling into the back of your neck. He's not one for talking much, but this is his way of showing that he's there for you if you need anything.

B = Body Part

Feitan doesn't spend much time admiring his own appearance, so it's hard to say if he has a favorite body part. But on you, he loves your legs. From your thighs to your calves to the curve of your ass, he will mark every inch of them with his teeth or knife. Most likely both... definitely both.

C = Cum

Feitan may have a fit body, but that doesn't necessarily mean he eats great. Don't expect the taste to be great. It's quite watery, but there will definitely be a decent amount. He enjoys cumming inside you, but has no desire for baby-making, so his go-to options are either finishing on your face or your backside. It's clear this man has a thing for marking his territory.

D = Dirty Secret

I don’t think he has any secrets per se (well, maybe that’s not entirely accurate; he definitely HAS secrets), but scandalous secrets? He’d be transparent if you asked him about his history, and he’s probably been with both men and women. Maybe once or twice, Feitan and Phinks have tag-teamed someone – that's just the type of friends they are.

E = Experience

People tend to assume that Feitan is inexperienced or a virgin, but I believe the opposite is true. However, he has never been in a traditional relationship. In my opinion, both him and Phinks prefer to seek paid companionship when they feel the need, for their own personal reasons. It's simpler and faster, without having to deal with emotions. Feitan has specific "preference" and it's easiest for him to pay someone who is willing to indulge in his frustrations and kinks.

F = Favorite Position

It's hard to say what he wants more. On one hand, he loves seeing your face during sex – the way your expression changes when you climax or when he brings out his blade. But above all else, he just wants to make sure you're okay. He reads your body language and facial expressions, especially if you've taken on an intense scene. He has a safe word, of course, but he'll also stop if he senses that you're not using it properly.

On the other hand, sometimes he just wants to bend you over any available surface and fuck you until both of you are exhausted. These quickies usually happen when he's feeling particularly worked up or just needs a release. He'll grab your hair, push your face into whatever is nearby, and pull down your pants as he takes you from behind.

G = Goofy

Contrary to popular belief, Feitan is not as serious as he appears. While he may have a stoic demeanor, it does not mean he lacks a sense of humor. In the bedroom, his behavior can vary. When he takes on the role of Dom, he is completely focused and aware to avoid unleashing too much of his torture skills on you. However, during more casual moments like a quick morning romp, he may crack a smile and playfully nip at your skin in an attempt to make you laugh.

H = Hair

Feitan isn't a very hairy person, with smooth skin all over his body. He has a slight trail of hair that leads down to a small patch of black hair. While it may not be perfectly groomed, it doesn't bother him much. When it comes to his partner, the amount or style of hair they have is of no concern to Feitan; he enjoys them regardless.

I = Intimacy

If Feitan is transitioning from paying for sex to pursuing a relationship with you, congratulations - you have reached an intimate level. For him, this is already a huge step, so if there is anything specific you want, you may need to communicate it clearly. As his feelings for you deepen over time, he may start to appreciate the softer moments between you, even though he might never say so out loud.

J = Jack Off

I don't think he masturbates frequently. It's not because he lacks interest, but rather because he is very self-aware and in control of his body. However, if you were to ask him to do it or even let you do it for him while he lays back on the bed and watches, he would absolutely be up for it.

K = Kink

It goes without saying, we all know he's a dominant, but not in the conventional sense. He craves control and isn't afraid to use restraints. But for Feitan, it's about more than just physical pleasure. He wants to leave his mark on you, carve his symbol into your skin, use ropes that bite into your flesh. The feeling of your blood on his skin is intoxicating to him, and he would savor the opportunity to cut you open and bathe in it. It would be even more thrilling if you possessed a Nen ability with enhanced healing capabilities. He enjoys blood but is not interested in any other bodily fluids. His marking kink would involve carving his name or number onto your skin; in my imagination, you have a "2" engraved somewhere on you.

L = Location

Feitan is not one to hold back; when he wants you, he takes you. However, his preference would be in a bed or a special room akin to the one he uses for his victims, where he can unleash without worry of making a mess.

M = Motivation

Before you came into his life, he would only get in the mood after a demanding job or if it had been a while since his last encounter. But with you around, even simple activities like washing dishes or reading a book can make Feitan ready to go. Just one look from you and he's all fired up.

N = No

I don't believe he has any interest in anything involving feces or urine; it's just not his type of kink. It's not that he finds it disgusting, it's just not something he enjoys. But with almost anything else, even things he initially may not like, I feel like if you persist enough, he'll eventually give in and try it.

O = Oral

He's a giver, through and through. He will bury his face between your thighs, losing himself in the moment until he's dizzy and gasping for breath. Even then, he won't pull away. He'll lick, suck, and maybe even bite if he feels like it. By the time he's finished, every inch of his face will be slick, and his eyes will be wild and primal as he looks at you. And if you try to tell him to stop, it will only fuel his fire. Keep that in mind before you ask him to ease up.

P = Pace

It's always a 50/50 gamble with him. I wouldn't say it's sensual, but he definitely likes to take his time. If you agree to a rougher scene, where he can let loose and show off all his skills, be prepared to be tied up and at his mercy for hours. He may even leave you there, tied up and sweating, before coming back to start the whole thing over again.

But all of this is just the warm-up before he even enters you. When he's finally ready for the final round, he will take you hard. The bed will shake on its rails and the headboard will slam against the walls. And it's absolutely incredible.

Q = Quickie

Feitan doesn't mind a quickie, especially when you're in the middle of a mission and there isn't enough time for a longer session. He has impressive self-control, so if you're not feeling up for it, he's okay with that. However, he also knows that you can't resist him when he asks.

R = Risk

Risk? Feitan doesn't even comprehend the concept, especially when it comes to sex. So what if the other Troupe members might overhear or walk in? Who cares if they fuck during a job and the target might catch them in the act? Feitan would simply eliminate any witnesses and continue as he pleases.

S = Stamina

Oh dear, your body is in for a rough time. When Feitan gets riled up, you'll be in for an extended bout of physical activity. Thanks to his rigorous Nen training and natural stamina, he doesn't tire easily. You'll probably lose consciousness long before he's finished, but even then, he'll likely continue on without missing a beat.

T = Toy

If by toys you're referring to the collection of knives, ropes, and gags he uses for his regular torturing sessions, then yes, those are his "toys." However, I have a feeling that once you explore his kinky side with him, he would have a separate set of these items just for personal use. Some people headcanon that he's dirty or gross, but in reality, he's canonically a germaphobe. He wouldn't want any blood or fluids from his victims to touch you. In fact, I bet he would even invest in a high-quality vibrator for other types of "torture."

U = Unfair

This is Feitan's domain. He takes pleasure in teasing you in every possible manner. He considers himself a master of all forms of torture and you are his favorite subject for experimentation. You better not cum without his permission, or there will be consequences. I can't help but wonder if there's a hint of masochism in him, deliberately prolonging his own orgasm until it becomes unbearable.

V = Volume

Feitan's voice is naturally soft, so he doesn't make much noise during sex. But that doesn't mean he's silent; his words are like whispers in your ear, filled with degrading comments and descriptions of what he plans to do next. He watches closely for your reactions to his words, using them to gauge your pleasure.

W = Wild Card

Feitan may not even realize it, but he’s a tsundere with yandere tendencies. He is fixated on you and will go to great lengths to gather information about you. He sees it as a way to bond with you. Your past and relationships with others hold little importance to him unless he can use them to manipulate you. He pays close attention to every detail about you for his own gratification. While this can lead to unexpected surprises, there is a fine line between showing affection and being overly possessive.

X = X-Ray

Let me begin by saying that size isn't always the most important thing. However, that doesn't mean Feitan is lacking in that department. He may not impress when flaccid with a modest 2 inches, but he definitely makes up for it with a solid 5 inches when fully aroused. "Size not matter in fight… or in bed."

Y = Yearning

Feitan has an above average drive and libido, but an even higher level of self-control. He can easily suppress any desires he may have, but when the opportunity arises, be prepared for him to let loose. After finishing a job, it's best to take a few days off because you won't be able to walk afterwards.

Z = ZZZ

I can hardly imagine him getting any sleep at all. I'm sure he does, but as a long time Spider, he has likely trained his body to function on minimal rest. Those rare moments after sex, when everything is calm and still, may be the only times where he truly lets himself relax, though. Even then, it's probably only momentary.

[eowyntheavenger]

Ram’s costumes in RRR, part 2

(You can read part 1 here.)

When Ram tortures Bheem, he’s still wearing the red uniform, which is SUCH a powerful visual choice for this scene and had to be 1000% intentional.

It really stands out against the tans, browns and greens of the background. It draws attention to Ram in what ends up being an extremely pivotal scene for him.

I also think the red could signify a lot of different things here.

The first is danger. Ram is a danger to Bheem.

It could also be a symbol of Ram’s heart, his emotional pain.

Blood: the red uniform visually links him to the blood on Bheem’s clothes.

Guilt: Ram literally has Bheem’s blood on his hands.

I just have to say THIS SCENE BRINGS ME SO MUCH PAIN! BHEEM! MY GENTLE SWEET BELOVED BHEEM

THIS BREAKS MY HEART

And it breaks Ram’s, too, but he goes through with it anyway. Then he finally sees that he was wrong: the people rise up even without guns. They become weapons. AND IT’S SO AMAZING AND IT GIVES ME CHILLS EVERY TIME I LOVE KOMURAM BHEEMUDO

As the men carry Bheem away, Ram’s red uniform ties him to Bheem and sets him apart from the other police. Now it signifies both Ram’s change of heart and the bloodshed that he’s caused.

In the next scene, he’s wearing the white shirt that we saw before.

It symbolizes his rejection of the uniform and what it represents, although he has to keep wearing it afterwards to carry out his plan to save Malli and Bheem.

This CANNOT be my imagination. The red is linking him to Bheem!

But Bheem doesn’t know about the change he’s undergone—for him, the uniform is a visual symbol of Ram’s allegiance to the British.

The red and white make such a powerful contrast in this scene! Ram, the torturer. Bheem, the innocent man he’s harmed. But Bheem spares him anyway!!!!!

THE GRIEF, THE LONGING IN HIS EYES!!!!!!!!!

In prison, Ram is in plain clothes again. His beard and hair growing long takes away another visual cue linking him to the British. He finally knows who he is—there’s no internal conflict anymore.

But he’s also injured, covered in blood and in visible pain. It works so well visually, as well as in the story, for him to be broken down like this before what comes next.

Because OF COURSE Bheem rescues him. I’M SORRY. JUST. THIS MOMENT!!!!!!!!! THE LOVE IN BHEEM’S HEART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holding hands as we escape the British

And then we come to the reason I wrote this entire post in the first place: because after Bheem carries him to safety, heals him, dresses him and marries him for a second time, we see THIS:

THE MOST AMAZING TRANSFORMATION OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!!! Ram is free. Everything’s been leading up to this. No Western clothing to be seen. Bheem has literally deified him as the god Rama. The holy thread is back. He has a strap across his chest, which in some ways echoes the uniform, but it’s to hold his quiver. He’s wearing orange, the color of fire, symbolizing how he’s finally becoming who he’s supposed to be! This scene would NOT have had the same impact without this visual design. The long hair and beard are so different from how he first appeared in the movie, and they were NECESSARY for this to work. And he looks incredibly, jaw-droppingly sexy.

You might even say drop-dead gorgeous, because he and Bheem start slaughtering the British AS THEY DESERVE.

I don’t make the rules, THAT’S JUST HOT.

My favorite thing is that Bheem literally created this look, because he has excellent taste. Is it gay to dress your friend as the god Rama?

HUSBANDS

[tomhardystories]

Part 8

Tom stared at his phone for a moment longer than necessary, as if staring at it would somehow prevent Leo DiCaprio from calling Jules. He knew, deep down, that he had absolutely no right to interfere in her life like this, but the mere thought of Leo, with his sultry smile and infamous charm, getting anywhere near Jules made his stomach churn. Maybe it was just the coffee he’d had - who even knew at this point?

He sighed deeply (a dramatic sigh, like a man who's contemplating the meaning of life or his next career move), and finally dialed Jules. The phone rang twice before she picked up, and Tom immediately felt like he was walking into some kind of trap.

"Heeeeeey” he said, trying to sound calm, cool, and collected (but failing miserably). “How’s it going? You know... chill?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old" Jules replied, sounding half-amused and half-bored, like she'd just been through a week-long movie marathon of The Bachelor. "I’m working. Trying to survive.”

Tom cleared his throat. "Well, uh... I wanted to give you a little... warning. It’s probably nothing, but... Leo might, you know, reach out to you."

There was a pause. A very long pause. One that seemed to stretch out for decades.

“Jack Dawson?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

He needed a moment to understand the joke. “Yeah, that one” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m just giving you a heads-up. If he calls or texts or shows up at your door with a puppy in hand or whatever, just, uh, you know, be careful. He’s kind of a flirt.”

Jules snorted loudly, and Tom felt his heart rate increase in a weird mix of dread and annoyance. “Seriously? Is that why you’re calling? To warn me about Leo DiCaprio? He’s not the first guy who’s ever flirted with me, you know.”

“Well... he might be the most dangerous” Tom added with a deep sigh. “Like, world-class level flirtation. Like... one smile and you might just accidentally end up on a yacht in the Caribbean or something. And who needs that, right? You’re a busy woman.”

Jules let out a laugh that made Tom feel a little less ridiculous, but not much. “Thanks for the heads-up, Tom. But I think I can handle it. I’m not some naive damsel waiting for Leo DiCaprio to come sweep me off my feet, okay? I’ve got standards.”

“Oh, I know” Tom said quickly, trying to backpedal. “I mean, you have way better taste than that, obviously. I’m just saying, he’s not the ‘settle down and get a dog’ type. You know?”

Jules paused, then said, “Not exactly looking for that kind of relationship at the moment, Tom, but... thanks for the unsolicited warning. I’m fine. Really.”

“Right. Right. Of course, you are” Tom said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Anything else, or do you need to text me a list of other Hollywood men I should avoid?”

He was about to say something when suddenly he heard the sound of someone entering Jules' office. The soft click of the door opening was followed by a hushed voice speaking to her.

"Hold on a second, Tom" Jules said quickly, her tone shifting to professional mode. "I’ll be with you in a minute."

Tom listened as Jules spoke, her voice crisp and controlled.

"Whoever did this needs to fix it, and I’ll be there to watch over it. Tell them I’ll attend the next meeting and we’ll go through everything, line by line. I don’t tolerate mistakes like this. They’ll learn the hard way if they think I won’t notice."

Tom raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help but be impressed. There was no hesitation in her voice, no second-guessing, just pure authority. It was clear she wasn’t the kind of boss anyone would want to cross. He found himself both a little awed and, if he was honest, more than a little intimidated.

She came back on the line. “Sorry about that. Where were we? Ah, yes. I have to wrap this up now, Tom. I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes, and I need to get a few things in order before I go.”

Tom could hear the efficient way she handled things. “Of course” he replied, his voice a little quieter now, still processing the tone of authority he’d just heard. “I’ll let you go. Catch you later.”

Jules sighed lightly, but there was something almost affectionate in her tone. "Talk soon, Tom."

When Tom hung up, he was almost certain that Jules had already completely forgotten what they’d been talking about.

For the next few nights, Tom couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was hit with a series of increasingly ridiculous and gut-wrenching nightmares about Jules and Leo. What had started as a mild annoyance had now spiraled into a full-blown psychological siege.

First nightmare began in the most disarming way, as dreams often do. He found himself sitting at a candlelit table at some impossibly chic restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wore tuxedos and the menus didn’t have prices. Across from him sat Jules, laughing at something, her smile lighting up the room. It was nice. Comforting. Until Tom realized that she wasn’t laughing at him.

No, sitting beside her, looking infuriatingly dashing in a perfectly tailored suit, was Leo. Tom watched helplessly as Leo leaned in, brushing a strand of Jules’ hair from her face with that infuriating movie-star charm. Jules looked up at him with that sparkle in her eyes and giggled. Jules. Giggled.

Tom opened his mouth to interrupt, to say… something, but no words came out. Instead, the restaurant morphed around them, the soft clink of glasses and murmured conversations dissolving into the sound of cobblestones underfoot.

Now they were walking hand-in-hand down a sun-drenched Parisian street. Paris. Of course. Jules was wearing some effortlessly chic outfit Tom had never seen her wear, and Leo had his arm slung around her shoulders like he owned the place. Tom trailed a few steps behind, inexplicably barefoot, and holding… a baguette? He tried to catch up, but every time he moved closer, they seemed to glide further away, laughing like he wasn’t even there.

And then, things took a sharp turn into the absurd.

They were at one of Leo’s infamous Hollywood parties now, all shimmering lights and clinking champagne glasses. Jules, now wearing a gown that could pay off Tom’s mortgage, was surrounded by impossibly glamorous people. She was laughing at something Leo said, her head thrown back like he was suddenly the funniest man alive. Tom, stuck on the outskirts of the group, awkwardly held a plate of snacks that kept replenishing itself no matter how many crab cakes he tried to eat.

He cleared his throat, trying to join the conversation, but Jules turned to him, her eyes twinkling with something that looked like pity. “Not now, Tom” she said lightly, before turning back to Leo, who draped an arm over her shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then came the final, gut-wrenching blow.

Leo leaned down, kissed Jules, and she kissed him back. But it wasn’t just a kiss - it was the kind of kiss that made rom-com audiences swoon, with orchestral music swelling in the background. Tom stood frozen, the plate of crab cakes slipping from his hands.

Then, as if this nightmare couldn’t get any worse, Jules broke the kiss to look straight at him. “Tom” she said sweetly, her voice echoing in that bizarre, distorted way dreams sometimes have. “Don’t look so shocked.”

Leo smirked, raising his champagne flute in a mock toast. “Don’t worry, man. There’s someone out there for you too.”

The crowd around them erupted into laughter - deep, mocking laughter that grew louder and louder until it drowned out everything else. Tom tried to shout, to defend himself, but the sound wouldn’t come.

He woke up with a start, his heart pounding, drenched in sweat.

The room was dark and silent, save for the muffled hum of the city outside his window. For a moment, Tom just sat there, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm his racing thoughts.

The second night of Tom’s nightmares started at a red-carpet event, the kind where everyone looked airbrushed in real life. Jules was there, wearing a gown so stunning it seemed to have been spun from the stars. Tom’s brain immediately short-circuited, but the feeling only worsened when he noticed Leo standing beside her, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

A camera flash went off, capturing the perfect moment: Jules, grinning like she’d just been named the new face of luxury toothpaste, and Leo, looking every inch the smug movie star, as though he’d simultaneously won an Oscar, saved a panda, and discovered the cure for world hunger.

Tom, who had been standing somewhere in the background like an underdressed extra, felt a hand on his shoulder. A reporter turned to him, looking vaguely annoyed. “Hey, buddy, could you step aside? You’re blocking the shot.”

The scene morphed without warning, plunging Tom into a sun-dappled garden brunch. Naturally, Jules and Leo were at the center of it, sitting at a rustic table that looked like it had been ripped straight out of an influencer’s Instagram feed.

Jules, now in oversized sunglasses and a breezy linen dress, was laughing at something Leo had said. Leo, with all the swagger of a man who had personally pressed the orange juice they were drinking, poured her a mimosa.

Jules sighed dramatically after a sip. “God, Leo, you’ve ruined regular orange juice for me. It tastes like sadness now.”

“Right?” Leo leaned in closer, as if they were the only two people in the world. “Once you go fresh-squeezed, there’s no going back.”

Tom found himself seated awkwardly at the far end of the table, inexplicably holding a plate of scrambled eggs. He tried to cut in. “So, Jules, remember when we found that diner with pancakes the size of....”

“Oh, Tom” Jules interrupted, not even glancing his way. “Leo and I are gluten-free now. You should try it. It’s life-changing.”

Leo nodded sympathetically, giving Tom the kind of pitying look that only Leo DiCaprio in a nightmare could pull off. “Yeah, man. It might help with the… you know.” He gestured vaguely toward Tom’s midsection.

Tom looked down and, to his horror, saw that in this dream, he was wearing a shirt at least two sizes too small.

The scene dissolved again. Jules and Leo were hosting their dinner party, in their Malibu beach house, which Leo had apparently purchased for them because of course he had.

Jules, seated at the head of the table like the queen of Malibu, was effortlessly charming a group of impossibly attractive people. The breeze wafted through the open windows, candles flickered dramatically, and everyone laughed at exactly the right moments, as if choreographed by a Hollywood director.

Tom, stuck at the far end of the table next to “Guy #4” from The Avengers, tried to contribute. “So, Jules, remember when you accidentally spilled an entire coffee on my....”

“Oh, Tom” Jules said, waving him off with an indulgent laugh. “Nobody’s interested.”

The table erupted into laughter, except for Tom, who stared at his plate like it had personally insulted him.

Leo leaned back in his chair, raising his glass. “To Jules” he said, his smile gleaming. “The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Everyone cheered, while Tom sank lower and lower in his chair, feeling like a punchline to a joke he didn’t understand.

He jolted awake in his bed, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It was 2:19 a.m. He stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding. This was the second night in a row of this madness.

The third night brought with it the most absurd and soul-crushing nightmare yet. It began with Jules and Leo on a yacht. The kind of vessel that made you question whether its owner was a billionaire, a Bond villain, or some unholy combination of both.

Jules was draped in a flowing white sundress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze like it had its own wind machine. Perched on her head was a massive straw hat, the brim so wide it could’ve doubled as a sunshade for the entire deck. She reclined on a deck chair, holding a cocktail that sparkled in a way cocktails had no business sparkling, probably because it was infused with crushed diamonds or some equally ridiculous ingredient.

Leo stood beside her, shirtless, because of course he was, handing her the drink with that casual movie-star charm. “Anything for my muse” he said, flashing his million-dollar smile.

Jules took the glass with an effortless laugh that somehow echoed across the open sea. “Tom who?” she said when one of the impeccably dressed crew members asked about her former friends. “Oh, you mean my old life? I don’t do ‘old life’ anymore. It’s all champagne and sunsets now.”

Cut to Tom, miles away, struggling to paddle a sad little kayak that looked like it had been borrowed from a children’s summer camp. He wore a life vest that seemed too tight, a bucket hat that was too big, and a look of desperation. “Jules!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “Jules! It’s me!”

Jules didn’t even flinch, as if his voice was nothing more than the ocean breeze. Meanwhile, Tom’s kayak seemed to have a mind of its own, veering wildly off course no matter how hard he paddled.

And then, the kicker: a massive sea lion surfaced beside him. It stared at him with an unnervingly judgmental expression, let out a bark that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and promptly rammed the kayak with its blubbery body.

Tom toppled into the water with a strangled yelp, surfacing just in time to see Jules clink glasses with Leo as the yacht sailed off into the horizon. The sun set dramatically behind them, casting them in a golden glow as if nature itself was rooting for their happiness.

As Tom splashed helplessly in the waves, the sea lion circled him like it was considering whether to nudge him toward shore or let him figure it out himself.

Tom woke up in a cold sweat. He groaned, pressing a pillow over his face. “This has to stop” he muttered. 

By the fourth night, he was actively avoiding sleep, afraid of what fresh humiliation his subconscious might conjure up. He’d started drinking more coffee than usual, pacing around his apartment at all hours, and muttering to himself.

“This is insane” he said, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “They’re not even dating. You’re making this up.”

But the thought of losing her, of her forgetting about him, of becoming just another story she told at parties with Leo - was unbearable. He didn’t even care if she dated Leo or anyone else (okay, he did care, but he wasn’t ready to admit that). What he cared about was the idea that their bond, their easy friendship, could disappear just like that.

By the time the fifth night rolled around, Tom had reached his breaking point. He had another nightmare, this one involving Jules, Leo, and a tropical island where Tom had been relegated to the role of their personal butler - but instead of waking up in a cold sweat like before, he shot upright in bed and said out loud:

“That’s it. I’m losing my mind.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer. At 3:17 a.m., Tom, teetering on the edge of panic, grabbed his phone and dialed Jules’s number. The phone rang once, twice, three times. No answer. His heart sank. But then....

“Hello?”

Tom nearly jumped out of his skin. Jules sounded groggy, as if he’d dragged her out of the deepest corners of dreamland. Her voice was soft and concerned, not annoyed, and somehow that made him feel both infinitely better and profoundly worse. He hadn’t even thought of an excuse for calling.

“Jules” Tom began, his voice cracking slightly in a way that only made him cringe harder. “Hey, it’s me. Tom.”

“I know it’s you.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” He winced. Of course, you woke her, genius.

There was a pause. Tom’s mind raced, bracing for her to sound cold or irritated, like in his recurring nightmare - or worse, like she did when she was talking to her assistant. Instead, she let out a sleepy chuckle.

“What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night.”

Tom hesitated, scrambling for a safe response. “I couldn’t sleep. Just… had a weird dream.”

Jules yawned audibly. “Was I in it?”

Tom laughed despite himself. “Yeah, you were there.”

“Oh no.” Her voice brightened slightly, amused. “Was it one of those dreams where I’m a serial killer? Because, for the record, I’d make a terrible criminal. Too chatty. I’d spill everything during the monologue.”

Tom chuckled, the tightness in his chest easing a little. “No, not quite that dramatic.”

“Damn. Missed opportunity. So, what’s up?”

He hesitated again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. How could he explain without sounding like a complete lunatic? He couldn’t exactly say, I called because I’m terrified you’re going to run off with Leonardo DiCaprio and leave me to live my days as a rejected kayaker?

“I don’t know, Jules” he finally admitted, “but it felt real, and… I just needed to hear you still… you know, like me. As a friend, I mean. Still friends, right?”

There was a pause long enough for Tom to feel like the dumbest person alive. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she processed his bizarre, unnecessary late-night confession.

“Of course, you dork” she said, her voice light with affection, punctuated by another yawn.

Tom exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Right. Right” he murmured, feeling both embarrassed and relieved. “I just… uh, needed to hear that. And, Jules?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll never move to Malibu?” he blurted suddenly. “Or, like, go live in some tropical place, and I never see you again?”

Jules laughed - a genuine, sleepy laugh that made him grin despite himself. “Why would I move to Malibu?”

“That’s what people do” he argued. “One day you’re just doing laundry and buying groceries, and the next thing you know, you’re on a yacht with some really talented Hollywood actor.”

“With you?”

“What?”

“You’re the first person I think of when I hear ‘really talented Hollywood actor’ at three in the morning.”

“Oh…” For a moment, he forgot that he was an actor. “No, I wasn’t talking about me. Just, you know, in general. Never mind. Just… no Malibu, okay?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Jules, sounding both amused and exasperated, said firmly, “Tom, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And I once dated someone who thought spaghetti grew on trees.”

Tom let out a startled laugh. “I’m serious, Jules.”

“So am I” she replied. “Look, you’re stuck with me. Even if you send me one more playlist titled Melancholy Rain on a Tuesday Afternoon.”

Tom smiled, warmth spreading through his chest as the knot of anxiety loosened. “Hey, those are curated playlists.”

“Sure they are” she teased. Her tone softened. “I can’t even begin to explain how ridiculous you sound right now. But here’s the thing, Tom: I’m definitely not moving to Malibu. So chill.”

“Because if you did, I’d probably just move into your closet and live there until you remembered me.”

“I’ll ask you one last time: are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But at least I’m not calling you in the middle of the night every week to ask if we’re still friends” he said, then quickly added, “Not that I plan to do that. This is a one-time thing.”

“Oh, I know. I’m going to remember this forever” Jules replied, her voice playful now. She chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m cute?” he repeated, his chest swelling with a mix of disbelief and pride. “You said cute? Not ‘acceptable’ or ‘fine,’ but actually cute?”

Jules laughed again. “Oh, absolutely. Don’t get used to it, though. It’s three in the morning, and I’m half asleep. Tomorrow, I might start calling you ‘average.’ Now, go to bed. No more bad dreams, kid. And don’t call me at three a.m. unless it’s an emergency or you’ve accidentally set yourself on fire.”

Tom chuckled. “Got it. Goodnight, Jules.”

“Night.”

He stared at his phone for a moment after she hung up, feeling like he’d just made the most ridiculous call of his life. But at least he had one thing to hold onto: she still liked him.

[bloodibambiidoll]

The Pull: Steddie x Succubus reader part 3

Summary: You move to Hawkins after spending the last decade in New York City hoping to have a peaceful and quiet next few years flying under the radar only feeding when necessary and making everyone you spend a night with forget you. But when you arrive, you feel a pull from two men like you’ve never felt before. As soon as you feel it you know flying under the radar here wasn’t going to cut it, you had to find them. Masterlist

Warnings: This chapter contains SMUT. Rough sex, demon/human sex, dom/sub dynamics, spit kink, face fucking, choking, hair pulling, M/M/F threesome. If I missed any please lmk!

A/N: this chapter is much longer than the first two, and it gets a bit angsty at the end but I promise all will be well in part 4, which will be the final part! Also I’m totally creating my own succubus lore as I go, I hope no one minds that she’s not exactly lore accurate!

‼️THIS STORY AND MY PAGE ARE 18+ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY‼️

The minute his mouth was on yours you shoved your fingers into his mane of hair and kissed him back with fever. “Holy shit. You taste so fucking good, how do you literally taste like fruity pebbles?” He said as his mouth made its way from your lips down your neck.

You chuckled “is that what I taste like to you? That’s so cute. Remember what I said about my pheromones? More or less it’s the base of my powers, depending on how yours mix with mine it can change things about me. For instance, how I taste to you.” he paused his assault on your neck to give you a curious look “when you say ‘things’ what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well-“ you were cut off by Steve suddenly turning you to face him “dude what the? Why did you do that!?” Steve didn’t answer, he just grabbed your hand and yanked you in towards him until you were flush against his chest before he kissed you so hard it made your head spin “you were being greedy” he said looking over your shoulder at Eddie who was still standing behind you both. “Also that pheromone thing is freaky because you taste exactly like those cherries you get in Shirley Temples to me. And you smell just as good” you felt Eddie come up behind you and shove his face into your neck “you do, you smell sooo sweet baby”

Baby? He’s calling you baby and they’re both touching you and kissing you and you feel like if they weren’t both holding onto you that you might faint. “Fuck-“ your voice almost sounded foreign to you when you spoke, never hearing yourself sound so submissive before “I need you I need you both, please fuck me” you saw Steve’s eyes roll in the back of his head and heard Eddie groan “oh my god, I can’t believe this is fucking real right now, we are gonna give you whatever you want sweets, don’t you worry”

Steve leaned down and grabbed you behind your knees before throwing you over his shoulder and walking towards what you assumed was their bedroom, Eddie shut the door behind him and Steve set you down gently on your feet in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up into his gorgeous honey eyes “mmm.. you guys smell good too you know? I could sense you the minute I stepped foot in this town and I could smell you from a mile away.. I feel dizzy standing this close to you” your eyes shifted to a bright red again and you felt your teeth sharpen, you couldn’t take it anymore you ripped your top over your head and started on the zipper of your skirt.

They both just stood there for a second taking in the fact that not only were you not wearing a bra but the underwear you were wearing were basically nothing “holy fuuuuckkkk” Eddie said as he ran his hands down his face “you are unfuckingreal holy shit” he walked over and grabbed both your tits in his large calloused hands, they felt so good against your soft skin you let out a breathy moan “I love that you guys are appreciating my beauty and all but I really need you to fuck me now, I haven’t fed since I got into town and I need it. Now.” It came out WAY whinier than you intended it to but it still got the point across because the next thing you knew you were being pushed down onto your back on the bed and your thong was being ripped from your body.

“Holy shit. You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie said before he paused “woah this tattoo is so sick!” He was looking down at your mark, a heart with bat wings “it’s my- you know what? I’ll tell you about it later just fucking TOUCH me already” that’s all it took before he licked a long stripe up your pussy to your clit where he began to suck “Oh my godddd- holy shit your mouth feels so good” you grabbed onto his hair and tugged a little, gauging his reaction, when he groaned you did it again, harder. “Stevvie, come here” you beckoned to the other boy who was standing on the side of the bed watching his boyfriend absolutely devour your cunt.

“Take your shirt off, I wanna see you” when he pulled his shirt over his head you felt yourself salivate, you had seen them both shirtless from afar but it had nothing on this. He came over and situated himself beside you, giving you another head spinning kiss before he trailed his mouth down your neck and to your tits where he took an already hardened nipple into his mouth, making you moan even louder.

You took one of your hands that was in Eddie’s hair to grab one of Steve’s hands, guiding it to your neck and leaving it there hoping he would take the hint. He immediately understood and wrapped his hand around your neck, adding just the right amount of pressure.

He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye “oh? You like it rough? Is that what you’re telling me?”

You moaned “god yes, please, use me”

“You hear that Eds? She wants to be our little fuck doll” he moves his hand from your neck to your jaw squeezing your cheeks “open”

You stick out your tongue and he spits onto it, tapping your chin implying for you to close your mouth “swallow” you gulp before sticking you tongue out again, asking for more “please? you taste so good”

“I’ll give you something better to taste” he stands up and starts unbuckling his belt. Meanwhile Eddie paused his movements between your thighs to watch this interaction in awe for a moment before he moved into action “turn around, get on your hands and knees. Now.” You are barely sat all the way up before he’s moving you himself twisting you on your stomach and hiking your ass in the air by your hips “fuuuckk I’m going to fucking destroy this slutty little pussy” you whimpered at his words, your pussy clinching around nothing when you heard his belt buckle coming undone too.

You push yourself up on your hands to look and Steve and god does he look fucking delectable, he’s pulling his boxers down his toned thighs and when his cock springs free you actually fucking moan out loud because holy SHIT, he’s long and thick and so fucking hard. “God Steve, I need you in my mouth, I need you to cum down my throat.” You didn’t have to ask him twice, at this point he was so worked up he felt like he was going to bust the minute your tongue touched him.

Eddie got behind you in his knees, completely naked now and you felt a big ringed hand come down on your ass causing you to cry out “oh you like that baby?” He spanks you again, harder this time “are you a little pain slut? You wanna be smacked around?”

“God yes, please” you wiggled your ass against him, feeling his cock brush against your slick slit. He grabbed it in his hand and tapped it against your clit a few times. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel that he was big too. After a few more taps on your clit you felt the head of his cock against your tight hole. He pushed in a few inches before pulling out again.

You couldn’t take it, unexpectedly you slammed your hips all the way down against his, bottoming him out inside you.

“Fuuuuck oh my god you are so fucking tight holy shit” he started fucking into you hard and deep. Steve grabbed your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His cock was so close to your mouth, so hard, begging for attention without missing a beat you wrapped your hand around the base and shoved his cock all the way down your throat in one motion.

“Holyfuckingshit- oh my god” he was taken back for a moment, no one, not even Eddie had sucked his cock how you’re sucking it right now. You really are some kind of otherworldly sex being because your mouth is insane. Eddie is having similar thoughts about your pussy, it’s feels so fucking good it’s like he’s dreaming.

You moaned around Steve’s cock the vibrations causing him to lurch forward shoving his cock deeper down your throat. He pulled back for a moment half expecting you to gag, you looked up at him a string of spit still attached to his cock from your mouth “I want you to fuck my face Steve”

He growled at that, grabbing two fistfuls of your hair and shoving his cock all the way down your throat before he started fucking your face at a brutal pace “Good fucking girl letting me use that slutty little throat like this”

Eddie moved one of his hands from your hip to rub your clit and you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Steve saw your eyes roll back in your head and felt your moan vibrate around his cock “I think she’s gonna cum soon”

“Yeah I can feel her fucking squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for us baby? Cum all over my big cock? Do it.” That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, Steve pulled you off his cock by your hair, grabbing your neck with his other hand “you look so fucking good when you cum holy shit. I was about to cum just looking at you and I really want to get a turn railing the shit out of that little pussy before I do.”

You could feel Eddie’s thrusts getting more erratic behind you “God Eddie please fill my pussy with your cum, I need it so so bad” he thrust hard and deep into you three more times before he was pushing his hips flush against yours and coming with a moan that sounded like the best song you’ve ever heard, the minute you felt his cum inside you, you could feel some of your energy returning. It wasn’t at the point where it was making you sick yet but you were cutting it close.

Eddie pulled out slowly and then sat back on his knees making a whistling noise “god damn baby, your pussy looks so good with my cum dripping out of it. Time to get you even more messy. On your back at the head of the bed, Steve, fuck her.” it wasn’t a question, it was an order. He sat down next to you at the head of the bed and pulled you into a rough kiss while you felt Steve situating himself between your legs, his cock in hand. He ran his cock through your slit that was slick with a mixture of yours and Eddie’s cum before slamming into you in one quick thrust.

He let out a stream of curses trying to regain his composure because you felt so good he really thought he was going to bust the minute he moved. “Steve, move, please, I need it” he pulled out slowly and then took a few slow thrusts in and out before he grabbed your thighs and pushed them towards your chest fucking into you hard and fast.

“Jesus Christ your pussy feels like fucking Heaven, I swear it’s like it was made for my cock” he grunted.

You laughed a bit at that in between moans “that’s because technically, it is. That’s one of the other things that my body changes-fuck” he started rubbing your clit in quick motions pushing you closer to the edge.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you? You’re such a good girl with your little magic pussy squeezing my cock just right” the next few thrusts hit you right in your g-spot and sent you over the edge, you came so hard you felt like your soul left your body for a second. Steve wasn’t far behind you, cuming inside you deep before collapsing on top of you.

“Holy. Fuck. That was- wow” he chuckled and rolled off you to lay on the side opposite of Eddie.

“Yeah.. it really was. I feel so much better now, thank you guys” your smile was shaky and your eyes looked hazy when you looked over at both of them.

“Were you in pain before? Also did I hear you say your fucking pussy CHANGES SIZE?” Eddie said as he looked over at you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You chuckled “I wasn’t in pain yet, but I did feel pretty weak.. and yeah, it’s one of my powers it changes to perfectly fit the cock inside me. Cool right?”

“COOL!? More like.. hottest. Thing. EVER.” He kissed your cheek. “Little infernal princess” that made you blush, HARD. No one has ever called you a cute nickname before.

“That really was amazing but I am so tired I need a nap like yesterday” you looked over at Steve who was laying on his back with his arm over his eyes, you rolled towards him resting your head on his shoulder “yeah, when I gain energy I take a bit of yours.. sorry about that. You guys should rest, I’m going to use your shower if that’s okay?” You stood up and looked down at them “you guys are fucking beautiful”

Steve yawned and Eddie rolled over and laid his head on his shoulder where yours was a moment ago “the towels are in the cabinet under the sink sweetheart, wake us after, we can all go get some lunch or something” you caressed Steve’s hair and kissed Eddie’s temple before grabbing your clothes off the ground and heading to the bathroom.

Now that the hunger for them isn’t as strong reality came crashing down on you as you washed your body in the shower. You were feeling so many mixed emotions. Satisfied definitely being one of the main ones but anxiety being a close second. You’ve never felt this way, you’ve never clicked this way with anyone ever. Never felt vulnerable enough to submit in any way, never wanted to go back for more. Never before have your physical features stayed the way you were born when you were with someone. They wanted YOU, not the ideal fantasy of what a woman should be. They saw you and they liked what they saw.. You wanted to get out of this shower and go lay in between them and feel their body heat until they woke up and have them take you all over again. That was fucking terrifying to you, how would it ever work? They already belonged to each other. You would stay the same as they grew old.. the thought of loving them just to lose them sounded awful.

So you made a decision, the decision you would make with any other conquest. You put on your clothes and shoes, and quietly walked out of the door. You did award yourself a last peak at them before, cuddled together sleeping peacefully. They were so beautiful you felt your heart crack a little as you walked toward your car. You had to get out of Hawkins, you couldn’t stay here and stay away from them. You drove toward your home, where you would pack up everything and go somewhere else to start over, under the radar like you planned. You couldn’t let anything like this happen again.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

[your-queer-dad]

hi dad,

I want to start by saying your blog is amazing and you help so many people, I hope you know that xx.

I'm in a bit of a situation and I hope you can give me some advice (no worries what so ever not, I'm sure you get a lot of these haha).

So, I really struggle making friends, but I've had one good friend for a couple of years, A. She's absolutely amazing, even with all the shit I put her through (I sh and I'm pretty sure I have an Ed and I'm autistic so I have no social skills whatsoever, sometimes it feels like she's more of a carer than a friend even though I try to keep that stuff from impacting her too much. It not her responsibility and I don't want her worrying) (I'm in therapy, so you shouldn't worry either)

Anyway A is just a bit too kind for her own good, one of our old friends she really didn't like and neither did I, but we just kinda stayed friends with her until we found out that she SA'd a girl, we talked to her about it asking if it was true and then she kinda dumped us. We were both relived. (Me doubly so, because if she'd done it to someone else it was less likely it was my fault, but that another (long) story). And I hate that it fulfills all of the stereotypes for trans girls, and all of the thing my very conservative family had warned me about.

And now A still has a friend called J, now I don't like J and A knows this even though I still respect their friendship and will chat with J when they sit with us. Lately A has been complaining to me about things J does that annoys her and even told me that she thinks they may be lying about an instance of SA they reported, which is HUGE. I'd considered that J might be exaggerating some details but outright lying.... And A and J have been friends for over a decade. It makes me really glad that I haven't told her about my own experiences. But it also makes my very uncomfortable because I worry that she doesn't really like me either and is just too nice to say, she invited J for a sleepover for her birthday same as me, so she could secretly hate me, and some of the things she's been complaining about I do too.

And to make matters worse, I feel she's been pulling away recently (she even forgot my birthday, which I said was fine, she was stressed and I didn't want to make a big deal of it and I din't invite her over of anything which in hindsight was probably a bit rude I just didn't have the energy to do anything that wasn't necessary, or even something that were, K haven't showered in way too long haha, but I'm still a bit hurt that she forgot.) ,and we've been sitting with a wider group of people, who have all been very nice and welcoming. But As made quick friends with K, which makes me really insecure about our friendship even though I know it shouldn't and A is allowed and deserves friends outside of me. And K been very nice to me too, but we're not really friends yet. I doesn't help that A and K are very allosexual and alloromantic witch is something they can bond over and a way to prove that trust each other. I am aroace and very closeted even though the whole friendship group and school really is really accepting. I'm still, ashamed I guess, my families conservative and ice never said it out loud and I don't feel ready to tell them. But their talking out crushes and deepening their relationship and I want in, and I don't want to appear standoffish, and I want to listen I want to be a part of this part of there lives even if I don't fully understand.

But A didn't tell me about her crush she told K, and when K started gossiping about her crushes she asked me if I liked men and I just shrugged ten she asked me if I like women I said I don't know and she didn't bring it up again. And then later when we were talking out her taste in men she said it felt like something she should be talking to A about and I asked her why. She asked me if I ever had thought like those (she was talking about wanting to rip men suits off, eww, haha) and I said no. I guess I just feel really excluded and insecure and I'm worried that they don't like me(I have no social skills, I'm pretty stupid, I don't hide my SH well enough and I'd do anything for a laugh or a little bit if attention even drink salt water) ( yes I'm mentally ill how could you tell? Haha)

But I don't want to do anything about it , I don't want to tell them I'm aroace and in worried about talking to them more (incase I'm annoying or they actually don't like me) or less (in case a sabotage the relationship, or they forget me, or they think I'm being standoffish)

I know Abby knows I appreciate her friendship but I'm worried that K doesn't, because I know I appear standoffish. I was thinking about inviting K to go rock climbing with me cause I love going and A doesn't and it would give me a chance to make propper friends with K maybe enough to forgive my quirks haha. But she was talking to A the other day and the exact approach I planned to use (I want to go rock climbing do you want to go with me) was thrown out as a way to ask for a date. So I don't want to do that any more in case it's read wrong, I know K likes girls too and add that asking her on a 'date' to the fact that in uncomfortable talking about her dating life I'm worried conclusions will be drawn.

But I don't know what else to do, short of just falling behind and letting the friendships fall apart. I already know A saw J outside of school without me. Idk, I just don't want to be alone.

Anyway sorry for the long ass rant, I hope you can give me some advice but no worries if not. Hope you have a good week 😊.

Bye dad.

(I have just realised how much I love brackets 🤣)

Hey kiddo! Thank you so much for reaching out! Honestly I think your plan to spend some one on one time with K and become better friends with her is a really good idea. I would also recommend maybe sharing your feelings about your friendship with Abby and communicating?

- dad x

[ae-azile]

Progression: Chapter 31 Preview

“They're small islands,” Kim says as Chay walks towards the drugstore with determination, “And conservative. The last store we went to told us that they were part of a delayed shipment that contained unnecessary items-”

“Those ARE necessary!” Chay snaps, then turns around, “Stay here. I'll go in. Can't have anyone catch on.”

“We already researched it. The tourist Islands tend to turn a blind eye-”

Chay walks through the door before Kim can finish. He scans the aisles, sees the tags for brands like Trojan and Durex on empty hooks, then goes over to the woman at the counter and leans in.

“Hi,” Chay says kindly, “Um, I saw that you were out of…condoms-”

Chay feigns a bashful squirm, then moves on.

“Is there a chance that you have any in the back that haven't been put out yet?”

The woman shakes her head, “Sorry. The ships bringing in certain products are late. We’re also out of Cheez-Its. We’re one of the only islands that sell those.”

Whatever will the population do without Cheez-Its? For some reason, Chay can't find it within himself to care.

“Thank you for your help,” Chay says, then leaves the store without buying anything. He will probably feel bad about it later, but if he bought pointless things at every store that didn't have condoms, they would have too many pointless things to carry around.

“Any luck?” Kim asks, his eyes following Chay as Chay goes and sits on a nearby bench before putting his head in his hands.

“This is the worst thing that could have happened.”

“Yeah.”

“We should have savored that last condom,” Chay says morosely, “Made it last. Used the cock rings even.”

By the way Kim glances around at that, he is probably checking to make sure no one heard Chay. But Chay doesn't care. Not anymore. The universe clearly hates him, so let any punishment come his way. Any punishment wouldn't compare to this. Getting ripped away of the opportunity to fuck Kim after just getting a taste of it is torture.

“We could go without.”

Chay’s spiraling thoughts come to a halt, and he looks at Kim with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Kim can't look at him at all.

“I'm obviously clean,” Kim says quietly, “Even if the men who abducted me did do something - and all of the exams pointed to that not being the case - I was tested. Given meds as a precaution. Nothing has come up, even in my most recent appointment.”

Chay blinks, and then sits up straight, “You'd really be okay with-”

“If you are okay with it,” Kim interrupts, then clears his throat, “And if you're clean.”

“...Hia made me get tested right after we all went to Cambodia,” Chay says hesitantly, then rolls his eyes, “Right after he started shipping us. Everything came back clean, and the blood work I did as a follow-up came back clean as well.”

“Oh,” Kim says, nodding, “...We don't have to make a decision today. But I guess it's something to think about.”

It is. Even as they give up on their quest to find condoms and go about their day, it's all Chay can think about.

He needs to talk about it with someone. As soon as they get back from a historical island tour and Kim decides to take a nap, Chay walks out onto the beach and does just that. He wars within himself on who to call. Khun has been surprisingly open-minded and comforting about anything Chay has talked with him about, but he's on vacation with his new fiancé and is also Kim’s brother. It doesn't seem like a good idea to ask him. Kinn sounds even worse, not to mention more intimidating.

He's pointedly ignoring the obvious choice for now.

Maybe Macau. They're the same age. But when he calls, Macau sends it straight to voicemail.

Macau: I'm on a date with Nalin. Sorry. We’re getting Khun and Arm presents. What's up?

Chay: What do you think about me barebacking your cousin?

Macau: BRO, STOP! I don't think about that and I don't want to!

Chay: It's hard for me to wrap my head around too. It sounds appealing though, you know? I'm just worried it is too big of a step.

Chay: What if you and Nalin go on a very quick getaway? You can pack your bags, get on a plane tomorrow morning, take a ferry to our island, and we can get lunch. You can also maybe bring a value pack of condoms so Kim and I can sit on this possibility a little longer. Since you are coming anyway. You can fly out tomorrow night or even the next day. 😃

Macau: Aw, you'd let us stay a full day before kicking us off the island?

Chay: Of course!

Macau: No. Besides, Nalin is bringing the twins over. We agreed to babysit them. Malai picked up some independent contracting work she needs to finish and Preeda is taking some advanced painting course in the evening now.

Chay: Can't someone else watch them? Hansa? Your brother? Pete?

Macau: P’Pete and Hia are going on a double date with Hansa and Pol. They can't.

Chay:...That's so weird.

Macau: Yeah, but Hia is actually looking forward to it?

Chay: Because he wants to make Pol nervous the entire time?

Macau: Maybe. But I think he wants friends like a normal person. And to probably gossip about me and Nalin with Hansa.

Macau: But anyway, can’t bring you condoms. Good luck with whatever journey you go on with Kim, but don't talk to me in detail about it. Thanks.

Chay looks down at his phone sadly before gazing off into the horizon. There is only one person he can talk to. The thought of bringing this up to him brings Chay feelings of both relief and mortification, but he has to do it.

“Chay?” Hia says as he answers the phone, “Hey! How is the trip?”

“It's amazing,” Chay tells him honestly. And that's true. It is. He just hopes Hia will come up with a solution that will make it a lot better.

[monstroso]

literally what makes the aristocats bad. its got nice songs. it has silly characters. it’s got really pretty backgrounds and the old hand-drawn disney animation. it’s inspired by a true story. what’s there to dislike.

(*cough* aside from the racism that permeates most if not all of the old Disney movies but since that’s present in so many of them no special case should to be made against the aristocats for it to be a worse movie because of that shared trait *cough*)

also I hope this didn’t come across as like. confrontational or anything bc it’s not supposed to be. legitimately want to hear your thoughts 👍

No, I love this! I appreciate being asked my thoughts, especially since the good people in the tags have told me loud and clear that I am in the minority on this one.

I will say, I did not expect the poll to have quite the legs it's got on it now. My polls usually only get about 60 votes. If I'd known 4,700 strangers and counting would have an opinion on this, I might have worded it differently. The real reason I didn't include The Aristocats is because I knew it would run away with the thing. Most people consider it a classic, regardless of what my opinions on it actually are. I thought throwing in a cheeky little line about it would be a fun gag for my followers who know I'm a true hater at heart.

Before I even got this ask - and because the overwhelming majority of the tags on the poll are telling me I have no taste - I actually did start rewatching it! Hundreds of strangers on the internet have never been wrong before, right? Part of the problem is I have next to no nostalgia for it. We didn't own the VHS when I was a child, so the only times I ever saw it were when I'd go to a friend's house or borrow it from the library. Maybe my judgement was clouded by not having seen it in a very long time.

First things first: The good stuff. There are parts of this film that rank alongside the best of the Disney classics, and I would be remiss in not mentioning them.

The music, for one, is pretty good. You'd have to be some kind of real Scrooge not to enjoy "Ev'rybody Wants to Be a Cat" of course, but on a rewatch I did find myself grinning through "Thomas O'Malley Cat" as well. This is an easy point in the film's favor though, as I'm an absolute sucker for both big band and jazz. This is great use of your Scatman Crothers and Phil Harris, top points awarded for these two numbers in particular.

The animation is also pretty good. Especially on Edgar and Thomas O'Malley. Your mileage may vary on the Xerox style, but the animation itself is relatively unimpeachable. This was still during the era of the Nine Old Men, so there's all kind of impressive work being done with the big sweeping things like character movement and expression as well as in the more subtle animations like expressions and mouth movement.

The cats are doing all the cat stuff you'd expect like licking their paws and poof'ing their tails, but there's less expected movements here too, like arching their backs when walking alongside things or rolling in the dirt to dry off from the river. This is good character work, but it's also pretty standard for guys like Milt Kahl and Eric Larson. If you're at all interested in animation, I highly encourage you to read more about the Nine Old Men and their history with the studio.

(A big thanks to the tumblr gif artists for gif'ing the parts of this movie that look good so I can spice this post up with some relevant visuals!)

Now, the bad. Like many movies from this era, The Aristocats has something of a pacing problem. While it is necessary to do the work of setting up the conflict in the beginning, you might be surprised to learn that it takes 25 minutes for Thomas O'Malley to show up, which is when the story actually starts.

A huge part of the problem is that this movie suffers from a sort of directionless vignetticism that seems to have been driven only by the idea that it would be cute to see the animals do X, Y, and Z. "Oh wouldn't it be sweet to see the kitten paint?" "Wouldn't it be so adorable if the cat played the piano?" "Ohh, what if the mouse ate a cracker dipped in milk, wouldn't that be darling?" I have a very high tolerance for schmaltz, but The Aristocats is where even I must draw the line.

When the movie isn't being tooth-rottingly sweet, it's frequently boring, and when it's not being either of those things it's showing you another chase scene with the dogs and the butler. It's erratic, tiring, and strains the limits of the modern attention span even at the movie's incredibly sparse runtime. It's a 79 minute film and you feel all 79 of those minutes.

Tonally, much of the movie smacks of the kind of rose-tinted sentimentalism Disney was known (and even criticized at the time) for, but without the guiding hand of the man himself, nearly 5 years gone by this point. The studio was floundering in the wake of Walt's death, and The Aristocats is quite close to the nadir of this particular creative valley - though the distinction arguably goes to Robin Hood, I'm much softer on that film for a number of reasons.

The Aristocats reminds me a lot of Lady & the Tramp, in that it's the same story (down to the aforementioned racist caricatures of Siamese cats), but with cats instead of dogs and with a much less focused sense of purpose, tone, and creative direction. If you like The Aristocats for the music and the beautiful scenery, but you haven't seen Lady & the Tramp, give that one a try instead. The animation is better, the music is about on-par, and it doesn't have as many stupid chase scenes. Or just watch 101 Dalmatians, which outstrips both films on sheer charm alone.

I think I had more I wanted to say, but it was mostly rambling that got away from the point. On rewatch, I don't think this movie is as bad as I remember it being, but I stand by my decision not to include it in the poll.

tl;dr - The Aristocats isn't the worst. If you grew up watching it I totally understand having a soft spot for the music and the atmosphere. In a vacuum, I can't say I think it holds up but ultimately I'm not going to judge anyone for enjoying it. Thanks for the ask!

[pure-ablution]

How do you have interesting conversations over text? I've been connecting with new people lately from Bumble BFF and house parties over the holidays and I feel like I'm either a poor conversationalist over text or they're not interested in being friends.

For the people I met in real life, we hit it off well initially because of shared interests and experiences and/or because we have mutuals in common. We end up exchanging numbers before the end of the night and then I'm stumped on how to move our conversations beyond small talk and pleasantries. Our budding connection inevitably disintegrates since we never discuss anything deeper or meaningful and I'm left feeling inadequate.

With the women I meet online (I only match with people of the same sex for friendships since the men there are always soliciting for hookups), I comment on something in their bio, either a notable place or object that I've been to or seen, common hobbies, their fashion sense or the qualities they mention possessing or wanting in a friend. Some conversation threads are either 'too deep', lead to a dead end (i.e. thanks, that's so kind of you, nice, etc.), never go beyond small talk (how are you, how do like the area, etc.) or unintentionally reveal a tragedy (death, abuse, etc.)

Sorry for the wall, but how do I learn how to control the direction of a conversation? Like how to smoothly flow from one topic to another in a way that isn't abrupt? How do you navigate a conversation after someone mentions a loss or trauma? I feel like it would be in poor taste to just move on to other topics after someone talks about losing a family member or pet, being suicidal in the past, etc. I show compassion and sympathy of course but trying to lift the mood after isn't something I'm good at. I want to have intellectual conversations and to learn more about people and I know small talk is a necessary bridge, but we never seem to move beyond that and I'm wondering how I can fix that on my end.

Honestly, from the way you’ve written this ask, I’m inclined to believe that’s it’s them more than you! A lot of people are really dry texters, and the text medium was never really intended for long conversations—it works best for short messages. I only ever really text my friends to ask if they’re free to call, or to send them links and other things they’d want to keep saved to their phones, and we call on all other occasions, because it’s actually super difficult to keep conversations going via text alone! There’s no real sense of tone, and misunderstandings are easily made. Group chats, of course, are a bit different, and talking with mutuals on Tumblr (and other similar cases), but I get the feeling this isn’t what you’re asking about.

On the second part of your question, when someone mentions some sort of loss or trauma, it’s really enough to say “I’m so sorry to hear that” and then delicately move on. In my opinion, at least, it’s actually pretty inappropriate for someone to bring up very sensitive topics like that so early on in a friendship, and via text, too. Of course, if you know the person much better, then it could be absolutely appropriate, but I’ve known a lot of people who really do just start talking about all the terrible things that have ever happened to them right on first meeting, and it just strikes me as someone with no understanding of social graces or respect for their own privacy at all. A question that I do find helpful, if I want the conversation to steer back into a more positive mood after a mention of a lost loved one, is “what was he/she like?” It allows the person to talk about all the lovely qualities their loved one once had, lightens the mood, and gives opportunity for discussion and steering the conversation away from death and grief altogether.

A few small tips that come to mind:

Arrange to meet again quickly rather than having long and drawn-out penpal-type friendships. I know that there’s a lot of advice out there about not letting dating become a penpal situation, but I think we should apply it to our friendships, too

Send voice messages instead of text! I’m a big fan of the voice message because it means I can multitask a little easier, and it allows me to put a lot more tone and expression into my texts

Adding questions to the end of your messages (e.g. “what do you think?”) makes for a more forthcoming sort of conversation, and gives you a sort of implied permission to give your own thoughts and opinions, and gently introduce new topics and ideas, even if your conversationalist does not directly ask those questions back

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Waves are Rising and Rising

|Beginning| |Previous| Chapter 3

Chapter 4 will be up on Friday!

--//--

Jinlintai is, somehow, precisely the same as when he left.

That seems… wrong.

There are many ways in which Jin Guangyao’s life can be segmented, times in which something so momentous has happened that there is a distinct before and an equally distinct after; without fail, those times have come with not only a change in his own personal life but a change in… well, everything, really.

Before a-niang died, the world was better for her being in it. After, the cruel nature of men hurt far worse than when she could shield him from the worst of the worst. Before Nie Mingjue raised him up to one single step below the highest rank in his Sect, Meng Yao had thought he would spend the next decade at least trying to earn such a position. After, he’d had some small taste of power and the Nie Sect had enjoyed a time of well-organised prosperity the likes of which they never had before. Before his expulsion, he’d felt relatively secure both in his position and in Nie Mingjue’s regard; after, nothing at all had seemed certain as the world descended into war.

There is always a Before. There is always an After.

It seems as if Jinlintai should not be identical now that he’s living in a new after, now that he’s had (quite frankly, terrible) sex with his sworn brothers, now that he knows what it’s like to see them both naked and vulnerable and still so much themselves that it was sort of… worth it, in a way, if enduring the terrible sex meant he could at least be part of that intimacy.

Perhaps, he thinks as he walks, unseeing, through the corridors back to his own rooms to freshen up after his travelling, Jinlintai hasn’t changed in the aftermath because it’s him who has been irrevocably, visibly, altered by the events of the last 48 hours. His pace quickens ever so slightly, nothing faster than his norm on a busy day, as he fears that it’s somehow still visible on him somewhere, some irrefutable evidence marring his carefully-constructed perfection that will announce to everyone who sees him, ‘Look at me! I’ve just fucked my sworn brother!’

“Ridiculous,” Jin Guangyao mutters to himself and quickens his pace a little more… just to be safe.

His room, just like the rest of Jinlintai, is precisely the same as he left it. That, somehow, feels even stranger than the rest of it. How can this, his most private space that should reflect him and his thoughts, be utterly unchanged after everything he’s just done? He forces himself to ignore the sensation in favor of cleaning himself up as quickly as he can, little more than a perfunctory scrub with the cloth draped over the side of the wash basin in the corner of his small space (he attempts not to flush as he pays particular attention to the space between his legs, but doing so means he thinks about why he swears he can still feel something flaky and itchy on his thighs despite his equally perfunctory scrub in his guest quarters, and he is still human, after all).

Once clean, he dabs fresh oil on the ends of his hair for a bit of perfume and re-dresses in clothes that don’t smell at all of the crisp pine-scented air of Qinghe. He checks that the vermillion between his brows is still perfect and settles his hat in place again, and in less time than it takes to prepare a pot of tea Jin Guangyao is entirely himself again.

Like this it’s difficult to believe that… all of that truly happened. He looks at his slightly-distorted reflection and hunts for the signs that must be there that he’s fundamentally changed, but there’s nothing. There’s not even a mark in the shape of a hand or a mouth left behind, certainly nothing visible while fully dressed, and as much as he knows that’s good and necessary he can’t help but feel… disappointed. How can he know it happened if there’s no evidence of it? It all feels too much like a dream, hazy and surreal despite the fact that he knows that if he were to exert even the smallest effort to try he would be able to recall every moment of it — good and bad — in perfect detail.

His face warms again and he shoves all thoughts of Qinghe and his sworn brothers into a nice cozy box and slams the lid shut.

There are many things he’ll have to catch up on, there always are after he spends any amount of time away from Lanling. It’s nice to think that his presence is so vital already to the operation of Jinlintai that his absence from it is felt so keenly; it’s evidence of how much value the Sect — his father — places on his work. That doesn’t make catching up any less stressful, however, and so Jin Guangyao finishes his useless self-scrutinizing with a quick shake of his head and pats himself down to make sure all his layers are in place before he leaves his rooms again in a sweep of silk to begin tackling the list of what he’s missed.

He meets with the accountant first to go over the latest Sect expenditures; this Sect bleeds money, Jin Guangyao has found, simply because it can, even now after the war has emptied the coffers of the rest of the Great Sects. The books need constant balancing, and his theory that the head accountant is accustomed to skimming some extra allowance for himself off the top can remain unconfirmed so long as the man is too aware of his watchful eye (and perfect memory) to feel comfortable continuing to do so.

It takes the better part of a shichen to ensure the latest invoices from various merchants and establishments in Lanling are properly sorted and paid, and by the time Jin Guangyao steps out of the cloyingly warm and incense-redolent office there are two servants waiting for him, clearly each on different errands as one is one of Jin-furen’s personal handmaids and the other one of Jin Guangshan’s preferred serving girls. He offers them both a smile, but there is no question as to whose errand is to be given precedence and so he turns to the younger of the two expectantly.

“Jin-zongzhu is taking the evening meal in his garden,” she reports with her eyes properly downcast. “He wishes Lianfang-zun to attend him.”

Not ‘join’ he notes. ‘Attend’.

He takes a deep breath in as silently as he can as he turns his unmoving smile on the second servant, Jin-furen’s.

“Jin-furen has summoned Lianfang-zun for a personal matter,” she tells him, not quite able to hide the wince that signifies this ‘personal matter’ is something that’s stoked her temper.

“Please offer my apologies to muqin, I will come to her as soon as fuqin has no more need of me.”

The handmaid bows and retreats to pass along the news to Jin-furen that her husband has thwarted her in her favorite pastime, which will likely mean that her temper will be even worse by the time Jin Guangyao finds her, but that simply can’t be helped. The serving girl bows as well but she waits for him to straighten himself out so she can lead him through Jinlintai quite unnecessarily and deliver him a few minutes later to his father in his private courtyard.

The meal is, thankfully, already laid, though it’s immediately clear that yes he really is here to ‘attend’ to Jin Guangshan like any other servant, as there’s only one place setting and it certainly isn’t for him.

“Fuqin,” he greets with a bow, deeper than is technically required of him; Jin Guangshan does nothing to correct it, as always.

“Guangyao,” Jin Guangshan replies, and though his expression doesn’t change Jin Guangyao can tell that his mood sours ever so slightly despite the fact that he’d asked for Jin Guangyao to come to him.

“You may leave us now,” Jin Guangyao instructs the serving girl hovering nervously at his side. Her relief is palpable as she bows and scurries away as quickly as could be considered proper to find some other task that won’t involve being at risk of a passing grope from her Sect Leader.

“You returned quickly from Qinghe.” Jin Guangyao steps forward to take up post at his father’s side, hands folded demurely over his stomach and his eyes properly downcast, though he can’t help but grit his teeth against the frustration of being expected to play at being a servant.

“My work here should not be neglected.”

“Quite right. Still, there are things that can be done in Qinghe that would be worth delaying your precious ledgers for.”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t allow his expression to so much as twitch, no matter how badly he wants to raise an eyebrow at the disparaging tone. The accountant must have complained to Jin Guangshan about his involvement, he supposes, but there’s no denying that the Sect’s profits have ‘miraculously’ increased since his arrival, and in the end his father cares about having ever-more money for his pleasures much more than he does any one person’s complaints.

“Fuqin?”

“Did I or did I not inform you of my… thoughts in regards to Nie Mingjue?”

In the way of all prey suddenly finding themselves the subject of their predator’s undivided attention, Jin Guangyao goes very, very still.

“Yes, fuqin.”

Jin Guangshan lapses into an ominous silence for a few moments to sample some of the plethora of dishes arranged in front of him, leaving Jin Guangyao waiting on pins and needles for whatever he may say next; there’s no telling with Jin Guangshan, usually, which means that there’s no way of knowing what he can say in the meantime to attempt to do a bit of preemptive damage control.

The silence drags on, broken only by the quiet clinking of ceramic and Jin Guangshan’s unhurried chewing. He washes a bite down with a few long gulps of tea and sets the empty cup down with a hard clack! that makes Jin Guangyao jump, just the smallest twitch of his shoulders. He follows the unspoken order to refill it, kneeling gracefully next to the table and pouring a fresh cup of fragrant tea with perfect form.

“You’ve disappointed me, Guangyao,” Jin Guangshan sighs. It takes a supreme effort not to dip into a kowtow and begin apologising, to instead finish pouring the tea and set the pot back down just so in its place, to ensure that the table continues to be arranged to his father’s liking.

“I thought, perhaps foolishly, that I’d made your position in this household perfectly clear.”

“Fuqin is never foolish,” Jin Guangyao says instantly and tries not to hear Lan Xichen’s gentle voice in the back of his mind (and Nie Mingjue’s much less gentle voice beside it) chastising him for lying.

“Did you do anything at all whilst in Qinghe to acquire the sort of information I require to weaken that oaf’s influence over the rest of the sects? Did you do anything to make him less of an irritant to me?”

He was our general, he doesn’t say. He deserves that respect, no matter how you hate him.

Jin Guangyao takes a deep breath in and reminds himself that, in the hierarchy of men he should hold in regard, his father must come first. His father does come first, and it’s only his own momentary weakness that distracted him from properly utilising the opportunity that being in Qinghe had given him, that led to him returning empty-handed.

Except… well. He did get information. He got information that could, if wielded skillfully enough, strip quite a lot of shine off of Nie Mingjue’s righteous reputation amongst the rest of the cultivation world.

Gossip is a powerful tool, particularly amongst the common people and the servants of the Great Sects, and everyone knows that if enough mouths sing the same tune, it must of course be true.

What would the cultivation world do if it became common knowledge that Chifeng-zun, righteous and just nearly to a fault, is dabbling so close to demonic cultivation (that all the Nies walk that fine line, with those resentful sabres of theirs) that his health is suffering so desperately that without intervention he’ll succumb to the same madness as his forefathers sooner rather than later, younger than any Nie leader before him? And what would they say if they heard, through the grapevine of course, that his response to learning this was to proposition his sworn brothers; to beg them to take him to bed and fuck him like some common whore in an attempt to use cheap cultivation tricks to hide the truth?

It wouldn’t be enough to ruin him, of course. His reputation is built on years of working hard to truly earn the respect his lucky birth had already afforded him; but it would certainly be a heavy blow, and Jin Guangyao already knows exactly how Jin Guangshan would seek to widen the crack in his armour and leave him, in the end, politically weakened enough that he could no longer stand in the way of Jin Guangshan’s climb to the seat Wen Ruohan has so recently been forced to evacuate.

He could be the unseen hands that drag Nie Mingjue at least a few steps down from the pedestal that the entire jianghu has placed him on. He could have revenge for the day Nie Mingjue stripped him of everything he’d been given and thrown him out to make his own way in the world, alone and injured. He could fight against Nie Mingjue, and for once he could win.

But… if word of their activities were to get out, of the five people who know about the dual cultivation Nie Mingjue would naturally suspect Jin Guangyao of spreading the information before he would anyone else. In that event, no matter his protestations, no matter how desperately Lan Xichen would try to intercede, Nie Mingjue would never, ever trust him again. There would be no small hope of civility or reconciliation this time. Nie Mingjue would hate him for the rest of their lives — even more than he already does.

Bile rises in the back of his throat.

“Well?!” Jin Guangshan snaps, clearly at the end of his patience. This time Jin Guangyao does drop into a kowtow beside his father’s low seat. It pulls double duty, conveying the sincerity of his apology as well as hiding his face from his father’s sharp gaze.

His mouth moves mechanically, with no input from his mind. “This unfilial son apologises. I intend to return to Qinghe soon, I will not disappoint you a second time.”

Jin Guangshan snorts over his head, voice dripping with oily-slick disdain to sneer, “Your promises are worthless. Bring me results, Guangyao, or else what use are you to me?”

Jin Guangyao lingers in the kowtow, eyes squeezed shut against the sight of the stone tile a mere inch away from his nose.

“...Yes, fuqin.”

Jin Guangyao stays put in his deep bow for long enough that the small of his back begins to twinge, his hip threatening to lock and catch if he doesn’t at least straighten soon. He barely hears his father’s irritated admonition to stand and return to his post past the way the next warning twinge makes his head spin a little, distracting and immediate. He rolls upright to his knees and then from there to his feet, knees and ankles clicking quietly enough that he can hide the noise with the rustling of his robes as he readjusts them and brushes the dust from the front.

“What of the other matter we discussed?” Jin Guangshan eventually prompts when he’s nearly finished his meal, simply dismissive now rather than angry. It should be safe enough to proceed, then.

“Wei Wuxian continues to behave erratically,” Jin Guangyao reports, relieved that he’d received the latest missive from his spies in Yunmeng prior to leaving for Qinghe (the return to something from Before is strangely reassuring). “The construction continues slowly in Lotus Pier, Jiang-zongzhu’s goal appears to be a perfect reconstruction of what was lost rather than any improvements or simple utility to rebuild as quickly as possible. There are also murmurs among the disciples when they drink in Yunmeng inns and teahouses that Wei Wuxian and Jiang-zongzhu are frequently at odds.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. Wei Wuxian continues to refuse to carry his sword and no longer fulfils his duties as head disciple. One of the Jiangs’ early recruits from the Sunshot Campaign currently trains the shidimei in his place.”

Jin Guangshan sits back in his seat to stroke his thin beard, looking pensively at the beautifully appointed koi pond some few feet away. Gold-red flashes chase each other lazily through crystal clear water, glinting in the sun, and Jin Guangshan’s eyes track their circling like a cat waiting to pounce.

“It will take little effort to ensure Wei Wuxian’s reputation continues to suffer, he does more than half the work for us,” Jin Guangshan muses. “And what of Jiang Yanli?”

Jin Guangyao dips into a little half-bow from the waist, hands pressed neatly to his stomach. “Jiang-guniang may soon be prepared to accept our offer, should fuqin be so benevolent to extend it again. The excuse of rebuilding is nearing the end of its plausibility, and to refuse another offer from her once-betrothed could be perceived as a deeper insult than they are in a position to offend the Jin Sect with.”

Everyone knows that Yunmeng Jiang is as proud as they are carefree. Wei Wuxian’s infamous arrogance is checked by Jiang Wanyin’s glares and Jiang Yanli’s gentle admonishing, everyone has seen it, but his arrogance is far from unusual. In fact, one could say that the cultivation world’s problem with it stems not from the fact that it’s arrogance, but that the circumstances of Wei Wuxian’s birth should never have afforded him the freedom to be so arrogant in the first place, no matter the skills he’s acquired throughout the years. And he is, unequivocally, a genius of cultivation and an extremely talented disciple — unfortunately for his worst detractors, his arrogance is built on a firm bedrock of skill that can easily support the weight of his attitude.

But is it strong enough to stand against the targeted machinations of the entire cultivation world? Jin Guangyao doesn’t believe so, and neither does Jin Guangshan. Wei Wuxian’s arrogance is a strength in many ways, but it is also a weakness that’s laughably easy to exploit, especially if his own shidi — his own Sect Leader — is unwilling to lend him his support at the risk of his own pride, or the pride of his extremely vulnerable Sect. A small part of the reason for the slow rebuilding of Lotus Pier is that the artisans and engineers doing the construction are doing it to exacting standards that must be approved by Jiang Wanyin at every step of the way; but, more importantly, the Jiang also simply can’t afford to pay for the work to move any faster than it is. If Jiang Wanyin’s political and financial standing are both put in danger by his wayward disciple’s arrogance, who in their right mind wouldn’t sacrifice the personal relationship to save their public face?

Jiang Wanyin, as a young Sect Leader rebuilding his Sect after the decimation of war, has bigger things to worry about than upsetting an adopted brother slowly going mad from exposure to the resentful energy he’d commanded during the Sunshot Campaign.

“We need only apply the right pressure at the right time,” Jin Guangyao promises his father, certain that Wei Wuxian’s destruction is a matter of when, not if. “He grows more unstable by the day; it is only a matter of time before he does something shameless publicly. When he does, it will drive the wedge further between himself and Jiang-zongzhu and leave them both too vulnerable to protect themselves or each other.”

Jin Guangshan hums, considering. Jin Guangyao lapses back into silence at the cue signalling that his father would like to think uninterrupted. He finishes eating in silence and Jin Guangyao kneels to begin stacking the dishes into neat piles for whoever will be sent to take them back to the kitchens. Thankfully, even when his father demands that Jin Guangyao act as his servant, that part of the chore is still far enough beneath him that he can avoid further humiliation in front of the servants.

“Suggest to Zixuan that when it’s time to invite the Jiang Sect to Lanling next, he should take the invitation himself,” Jin Guangshan finally instructs. “Jiang Wanyin is foolish but practical — they cannot truly afford to do the work necessary to rebuild Lotus Pier to its full glory, certainly not if he wishes to continue to recruit more disciples who will need food and clothing. There are not so many nighthunts going in and around Yunmeng that the cost of his projects can be offset by the villages, they’ll be looking for an alliance with us soon enough. Wei Wuxian will either attempt to argue the proposal and do nothing to endear himself to Jiang Wanyin, or else he will be brought to heel long enough to allow the courtship to proceed, and with Jiang Yanli under our thumb we will be one step closer to the Seal. Either would serve our purposes nicely.”

Jin Guangshan is cunning, that much has never been in question. Jin Guangyao can see it easily, the pieces unfolding and revealing themselves in neat little rows. Lanling Jin will offer the weakened Yunmeng Jiang money and political alliance in one hand and steal their most dangerous asset with the other; it’ll take delicate, dedicated work, and while it will be relatively simple it will still take time.

Jin Guangyao grabs onto the task with both hands and an unclenching of the anxious ball in his chest that is the question of what to do about Nie Mingjue.

“Yes, fuqin,” he says, bows, and stands to retreat, dismissed by a lazy wave.

Destroying Wei Wuxian’s reputation will be child’s play, considering the man’s own self-destructive tendencies that are only growing worse, no matter how much Jiang Wanyin shouts at him. It’s a worthwhile distraction.

Jin Guangyao pushes thoughts of Nie Mingjue as a target, as an obstacle, to the back of his mind with the rest of his thoughts about his sworn brother, and tells himself that the relief is only for having fewer things on his plate rather than anything as dangerous as sentimentality.

|NEXT|

[streettealee]

Fully convinced while I’m listening to my musique that Cordelia Carstairs actually would really enjoy rock music, from pop to hard rock. For myself, I have broad tastes, but I find rock really cathartic and it’s always what’s playing when I have a lot of emotions swirling around. I also use it as hype music (along with hip-hop and rap) when I’m getting ready and warming up for boxing, so I think Cordelia would appreciate the genre-umbrella for training sessions.

Because this is what I love about Cordelia and part of what I always related to when reading about her: she is a blend of delicate and strong that UGH I adore. Her interests vary so much. She loves fashion, gets so excited about it (I will never not be mad about those girls at the first ball treating her like she’s a snob - at least Anna didn’t shut her down when Cordelia tried asking what French designer she had an affair with), has been mentioned to like perfumes, feels comfortable in sleek and elegant dresses, is a known jewelry-wearer, prefers subtler forms of winning social battles, likes dancing, and is generally intrigued by the topic of gentlemen instead of rolling her eyes, loves sweet romantic things like reading to each other AND YET she is a gremlin who crawls under her brother’s bed to frighten him, stands up for and against so many people, has a SWORD, could very well make men kneel, definitely could and would beat up someone with her bare hands if necessary or a lead pipe, feels emotions so deeply - including those related to anger even if it comes out in her differently to others, likes wearing gear, loves being a warrior, and just. Do you get what I mean? She’s allowed to be tough as nails and a little bit punk and rebellious and cheeky while still liking stereotypically feminine things that female main characters often shun or are shamed for liking.

So, back to the main topic: Cordelia, everyone’s beautiful Layla and sweet Daisy, I think, would find rock really, really good for releasing pent up emotions and energy and I love how its contradiction with her somewhat quiet, stoic character fits who she is so well. 

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.