#we're talking about “she” and “her” and “they” and “them”

[edward-munson]

outrageous lingerie | E.M.

Summary: You buy an exceptional underwear and your friends are making a deal for your own benefit.

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), oral (m receiving), masturbation (m receiving), vibrator playing

Word count: 2.9k

"Oh, you're totally going to wear this at the camping!" Robin squealed cheerfully while you were sitting on Nancy's bed as she finished packing her bag.

"No, I'm definitely not wearing this!" You rebut her idea and look at Nancy, who holds an amused smile on her face "Nancy Wheeler..."

"What?" She lifts her hands in surrender, holding back her wish to laugh "I mean, it should be fun. Come on, let's make a deal. If you do this, we'll give you two hundred"

"Woah, wait" Robin chimes in "I admit I'm pretty curious and excited to see how this works, but I am not gonna pay that much just for her to wear vibrating panties!"

You glare at her for being too loud and she shrinks back to sitting on the bed. And as this conversation wasn't embarrassing enough, Eddie seemed to have heard your commotion as he passed by Mike's bedroom. He halted in his tracks, walking backwards, stopping right in front of her door. You all snap your heads towards the curly haired man, who's mischievously grinning.

"Vibrating panties?" He asks and you throw them both a death stare "I'm in. How much are we talking about?"

"We" You interrupt "Are not doing anything"

"Please! I mean, the worst thing that can happen is for you to come in your pants" Robin stands next to you, snaking an arm around your shoulders "And you're making money out of it"

Eddie eagerly crosses his arms behind his back, still smiling at you as you roll your eyes in annoyance "Can I do it?"

"No"

"Please?" He begs.

"No"

"Then why did you even buy it?" Nancy asks, wriggling her eyebrows. She knew why you were willing to bring the piece of fabric to the camping. She was the one you went for help.

"Yeah, honey. Why not make good use of it since you spent your sweet money on that?" Eddie tries to convince you, but he's only making it rather worse.

"First of all, you were not supposed to hear this conversation. It's a girl talk" You shove your pointer finger on his chest and he snorts at you "And second, I wanted to do an experiment. I only asked Nancy if she had ever done it, but Robin is nosy as it is"

Your friend scoffs and pouts playfully "I am your best friend, you should've talked to me!"

"You're still a virgin, Buckley, no offense" You watch as she blushes and flips you off. "Okay, we're done with the conversation"

"How about we make it 50 each?" Eddie pressed.

Both girls shared a glance and agreed to his terms.

"Hey, this is not consensual. It's my underwear, you can't just force me to wear it!"

"It's good money, sweetie. We promise we won't tell Jonathan and Steve" Nancy goes back to finishing her bag.

"Yeah, because that wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen"

"How would you even wear that out in the woods with all of us there anyway?" Eddie questions, confused with your idea.

"Nancy was going to help me and control the remote. Now, can we drop the conversation?"

But they didn't. Because now Eddie was curious why you picked Nancy to do that, when he could be the one just for the fun. But you bombed him with a pile of pillows, while he still mocked you and your idea. They still thought it would be a good idea if he did it and wouldn't shut up about it. Until you arrived at the far forest out of Hawkins. The place was peaceful and perfect for the moment, considering it wasn't cold nor was it hot. There was a wooden table by the lake, and there was enough space for your tent. You and Robin were sharing a tent, while Jonathan and Nancy would be sleeping together, but Eddie wanted to sleep in his own tent, leaving Steve out.

The entire day, while you were all enjoying the warm lake swimming and playing chicken, Eddie couldn't stop looking at you. He was being a dork and joking, yes, but he wasn't stupid. He couldn't stop thinking how it would happen if you wore the panties, and what you would look like wearing them. And it wasn't helping that you were wearing a nice matching bikini set, the bottom of it only being supported by the tied straps on the side.

You and Eddie were pretty close, intimate enough to make jokes of the kind, and even giving each other advice about sex life. Not that you actually needed them, and it's also not like you knew everything, but he was more inexperienced than you. He hadn't slept with many girls before. Even though it might look like he's a nerdy virgin, he definitely knows how to practice the art of being a tease. He knows you like his tattoo, he always makes sure to leave them showing whenever he wears a t-shirt, or when he's shirtless, like today. He lies on the floor above a spreaded sheet, leaning against his elbows as he gets sunbathed.

You try to avoid looking at the way his body hair trails down his stomach, reaching the waistband of his swim shorts. You love the way his abs contract when he leans back and his biceps become more prominent. And the realization that he's going to be the one in charge of the remote for the toy is giving you a headache. You tried not to make it too obvious that something was going on, because as soon as you put it on after taking a shower, it's when the show begins.

"Okay, so" He shoots you a smile, but you don't see it as comforting in any way "I'll give you the signal when Robin finishes her shower. We sit down and make our plates. You're done eating, I'll start"

Eddie says it with such an amused look, it's frightening you. You know what you signed up for. Not exactly signed up for it, but you're starting to regret buying it.

He's expectantly waiting for you to finally leave the community bathroom, clasping the remote in the pocket of his jeans as he helps Jonathan cook the sausages. Steve and Nancy are setting the table while Robin is the last to shower. You're stalling for time as you crouch in front of your bag, getting up the courage to finally go outside and sit with them at the table.

The toy is already resting against your cunt, you're wearing a skirt, and it feels completely strange. It's not an uncomfortable sensation, but it's not pleasant either. And the fact you have never tried it before seems to be another reason for you to rip it off. But the money. Think of the money. You take a deep breath and leave your tent, seeing Robin getting to her seat. You sit beside her and watch Eddie sitting across from you. He seems unfazed, holding the cutlery with both hands as it makes you feel relieved. You serve yourself and start eating.

One smooth movement and Eddie pushes the button for the first pattern. There are, like, 11 of them. In a subtle movement, your legs squeeze shut and you snap your head at him for a second. He's still eating his dinner like nothing really happened, both hands on sight. You look to your side, Robin clearly distracted talking to Steve about whatever. Fine, that wasn't bad, you could take it.

Not one minute later, he pushes the button to the fifth pattern that sends rhythmic waves of vibration. This one pushes you a little off to the edge of your seat, and it doesn't stop. When you look up at him, he's not looking back. But he's holding a smirk on his face when he eats a small piece of his omelet. Your knees start to falter when he changes the setting and the pace increases to something you can't exactly control.

There's a small faint buzz under the table, but the parallel conversation and the low music overcome the sound of it. You try to avoid giving it your attention and turn to Nancy, who's talking with Eddie naturally. And when Steve mentions your name about your last trip to Chicago, there's a jolt vibration cursing through your folds in a painful way and you almost buckle your hips.

"We got lost after we left the zoo and it took us almost one hour to find the others. And Dustin almost started crying to you, remember?" He asks in the midst of a chuckle and you force a laugh out.

You're going to fucking kill Eddie. He was not supposed to be doing this before you were finished eating. You swing one leg on top of the other to prevent the toy from continuing buzzing, but it's no use.

"He was so scared we wouldn't find them. And he gave Jonathan the biggest hug I've ev–" Your voice cracks all of a sudden and you glare at Eddie, who's seemingly enjoying your struggle. "God, I think it was a bug"

He snorts. Robin knows the reason behind your abruptness, but she's more discreet than he is. Steve resumes the conversation, not even noticing the way you sit uncomfortable. You can't stop shuffling on your seat, while Eddie keeps changing the patterns to whatever he wants. It doesn't get any better when you stop focusing on the conversations, feeling the waves of vibration tingling against your pussy. It becomes insufferable when you notice him glancing at you with a glint in his brown doe eyes, his head resting against his hand while the other hand stays under the table and he watches you.

You send him a knowing look and he smiles widely, pushing the button again and the same jolt wave hits your bundle of nerves. You squeal unwittingly and buckle upwards, the toy playing over your clit starts making you feel in complete shock from the sudden pleasure you're feeling. Your friends all look at you with creased brows and you send them a forced smile.

"Oh my God" You wince with the new patterned wave and force yourself up "I think this sausage is making me sick!"

You feel the lame excuse weighing over your shoulders when you leave the table, running out to the bathroom, screaming like there was really something wrong with the sausage. You lean over the sink, hands gripping the edge with shaking fingertips. Eddie doesn't really bother to turn it off even when you're not on the table, because the toy works from a good range and you hate it.

He stands by the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest and the same dirty smile on his face. You can see the remote against his palm and huff. "Can you give me a fucking break?"

"No can do, sweetie"

You shove him by the shoulders, walking past him as you round the community bathroom. There's a slight distance between the trees you're standing against and the table by the lake. They can't see or hear you.

"Where the hell are you going?" He asks as he follows behind, trying to catch up on you.

"To get my revenge"

"What-" You startle him as your hand flies down to his crotch and he stumbles back "The fuck are you doing?"

You slightly squeeze his bulge and Eddie lifts his head from his growing arousal to you, but he can only see your lopsided smile as a response.

"Okay, you wanna play that game?" He changes the pattern and the vibration sends you to a frenzy, your legs squeezing shut immediately.

"Eddie, please-"

"Yes, sweetheart?" His voice is almost a nagging, honeyed tone that he makes sure to use when you're this vulnerable.

"Eddie, I swear to God!" Your hands fumble with his belt, grazing the skin of his happy trail. He looks down at your fingers that quickly unzip his jeans and lower them.

He keeps pressing the buttons, changing the pace of the waves. You're in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The high and low of the toy makes you squirm.

"What the hell are you trying to do, sweetheart?" Eddie's voice drops an octave when you pull his boxer down and finally grip his cock tightly.

"Revenge" You respond with eyes locked on him. He immediately throws his head back and groans when you stroke him, but you freeze your movements and he snaps his eyes open. "See? Not so good when I do that, right?"

He wraps his hands around your fist and pulls you down to the grass with him, making you fall flat on his chest as he keeps his gaze at you. It only takes a second for you to forget the vibrator between your legs before you buckle your hips again. Your face is contorted and Eddie seems dumbfounded when he notices you're giving in to the game. He slowly holds your hand and slides it down to his aching cock again.

"Just... don't stop, okay?" He asks, uncertain. But you nod and start pumping him, using your thumb to collect his wetness, spreading the precum along his shaft. "Fuck, that's good sweetie"

He forgets the remote for a moment, relishing on your gentle fingers wrapping him up and down. His hips thrust upwards against your hand, losing his line of reasoning as he throbs into your hand. You rip him off his daze with a low moan, spreading your legs apart as you roll your hips against nothing.

Eddie presses another button and the vibration against your clit quickens, making you lightheaded, feeling your heart pounding against your chest. He's still fucking your hand absentmindedly, cursing through his teeth. You're both a mess of groans and whimpers, not even giving a shit about your friends.

"Eddie-" You feel the wetness of your pussy dripping down your ass, the fabric is soaking and you can't seem to be bothered about it.

"Ye- Yes, sweetie" He grunts when you squeeze his tip and stroke him up and down, rubbing your thumb over and back on the head of his cock "Oh fuck"

He hits the back of his head against the tree and changes the pattern in response to your movement. While you twist your hand around his length, you feel the jolt wave hit your swollen nub and it makes your arms become wobbly. You watch as he slowly starts to crumble down when you run your fingertips softly against his frenulum, flicking it from side to side.

Eddie knows he pushed the last pattern, meaning the jolt is three times more powerful and, thereafter, you're going to cum pretty soon. But he's in a shocked state when you suddenly dive your head down his slick cock, your mouth wrapping around his girth and your tongue savoring his taste. His hand rushes to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You're in a blissful stupor of lust and you don't care. You and Eddie have been too close for like forever, and you don't think this would ruin your friendship. You feel too comfortable and safe and it's obvious how attractive he is. You bob your head up and down, sliding your mouth to the base of his cock, your throat almost swallowing his tip.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna-" He hisses when you hollow your cheeks. And when he throbs inside your mouth, you feel your own apex building up in a twisting knot in your stomach. You only pull back to breathe and heave his name.

His hands are still tangled in your head, pulling you back only a few inches just so see him fucking your mouth. His eyes drift to your parted legs, your rolling hips and your glistening pussy that sparkles with the moonlight. Eddie hears you whimpering against his cock and praises you. He watches your belly contort and takes a sharp inhale when he sees you're finally coming. Your hips halt and you start to convulse under him, your legs immediately closing as you still cum in your panties.

You roll your tongue on the tip of his cock and suck him off, draining the life out of his body. It feels like there's something about to snap inside of him when you unconsciously push the panties to the side after your orgasm and you leave your glistening pussy exposed for him to see you. It's the uphold he needs to finally come undone. He spurts inside of your mouth, he forgets the remote was still clasped in his hand. That's the reason why you pulled the fabric to the side. You take all of him, using your tongue to overstimulate him and bring him to the edge of hysteria.

You pull back and lick your lips with his dick still on your hand, and you look up at him with hazy eyes. He's smiling at you lazily, his curls are messy and he feels the blood rushing through his veins as his head pounds.

"Shit, that was so... incredible" He pants. You help him pull his jeans up and he leans against the grass.

You're still exchanging glances. The staring doesn't make you blush, it makes you feel... eager. It makes you want to cling to him. He feels a shift between you two. You didn't seem to notice your skirt had ridden up. Neither had you seen your how wet and exposed your pussy was, but the sexual tension was still in the air and Eddie didn't give you time to recollect yourself when he caught you and latched his lips against yours.

Your first reaction was to cradle his face with both hands, his tongue sliding against yours in a feverish, but quick kiss. He slithered one hand down your waist and pulled your skirt down, squeezing your ass "We're not done yet, sweetheart. Can you meet me here later?"

You only nod, speechless at his sudden action towards you. He helps you up and you walk down the path leading to the tents, where you grab your bag and follow to the bathroom, finally getting rid of the soaked panties. Your legs are still shaking when you change it to a new underwear and clean yourself. You feel the headrush taking over you at the thought of meeting Eddie later.

He most definitely wasn't thinking when he gave the idea. He didn't know how it would end up and now, as he sits next to Jonathan while they smoked a joint, he can't stop thinking about fucking you senseless in your tight little skirt under the moonlight.

You're not even sure how your friends are going to react when they hear how the story turned out.

@kellyxo1 @sammybrrr @zafetycar @andvys @hellfire--cult @skeltnwrites @stevie-petey @ghost-proofbaby

[teambyler]

The most hypocritical anti Byler argument:

"Why can't two boys just be friends? Why do you have to make everything gay!?"

Whenever I hear this argument or some variation of it, I think back to my two cousins, one a girl and the other a boy. (One from my dad's side of the family, the other from my mom's.) They were maybe six years old at the time, and they were innocently talking and playing and giving each other math and spelling-bee quizzes. ALL my family were giggling, saying they were going to be boyfriend and girlfriend.

I also think back to all the times I see young girls being judged on their physical beauty and told they're going to have a handsome boy when they grow up because they're so pretty.

From childhood, boys and girls have their sexuality assumed for them. Their SEXUALITY and romantic possibility are talked about openly in front of their face. They're made to look at themselves sexually before they even want to.

So when people yell at Byler fans saying "Why do you have to make everything gay?" I want to scream at them:

"Why do you have to make everything straight!?"

Why do you insist on sexualizing children to be heterosexual even before they're ready to start thinking of themselves in those terms?

Why do you have no problem with Mike kissing El in season 1 right after she asks him if he's like her "brother"?

Why do you idealize their relationship when they were children, while simultaneously trying to shame Byler fans for trying to "sexualize children" even though these are fictional characters and the actors who play Mike and Will are already adults?

Why do you shame any thought or possibility of homosexual romance, while imposing heterosexual norms on everyone?

It reminds me of people who say "You can be gay of course... just don't shove it in our faces (by holding forth that you're gay, kissing in public, etc.)." When no one bats an eye when straight people do the same thing. They're willing to give lip service to LGBT+ people, but actual equality they don't accept.

It's Straight Privilege in action: the norms and standards that straight people enjoy quietly do not to apply to us.

This hypocrisy even distorts how Milkvans view Mike and El. We're told that if Mike and Will get together, that would mean Mike "used El" and El would never be able to forgive him.

Not only does this disregard that people can have amicable break-ups and still be close friends: it also shows that the idea of a platonic loving relationship between a Mike and El is beyond their comprehension. To them, the only loving relationships boys and girls can have with each other are romantic ones.

(Now, before anyone objects: sure many people accept Robin and Steve, but that's because Robin is canonically gay. We all know that before she came out many of us (me included!) were shipping those two as a couple!)

If someone ships Mike and El WITHOUT her confronting him about his poor treatment of her in early s4, without there being an honest conversation about that, this definitely raises an eyebrow from me. The "love confession" didn't address this: his fear of losing her did NOT explain failing to comfort her or failing to say he loved her. Theoretically it's possible for these two to repair things. (And if Milkvan is endgame I hope that they do by addressing this!) But for some Milkvan shippers this need to address Mike's behavior doesn't even enter their minds because they're idealizing their relationship. In other words, THEY are imposing their idea of a relationship on these two, much in the same way my family was imposing their own ideas on my two cousins without regard to the people involved.

So if anyone asks "Why can't two boys just be friends? Why do you have to make everything gay?" it's purely hypocritical and dishonest. No, we just want THIS relationship between Mike and Will (which is clearly being built up as romantic) to be gay out of a sea of heterosexual relationships on TV.

No. THEY are the ones who rule out a boy and girl just being friends. THEY are the ones who insist on imposing romance on a boy and girl when they're not ready. THEY are the ones who insist on "everything" being one way.

-teambyler

[hrtwayne]

Take my Breath Away || Alexia Putellas [Part Two]

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Physiotherapist!Reader

Summary: Where the girl Alexia kissed at a bar ends up being hired as the new physiotherapist for the Barcelona team.

Note: English is not my first language.

Warning: Suggestive content only

Previous Chapter | Women's Football Masterlist

It was around twelve-fifteen when Y/n left the office at the Training Center, heading toward the cafeteria. The coach had asked her to be available after lunch to evaluate Alexia's knee and the shoulder of one of the girls from the youth team.

With her mind partially distracted, Y/n walked through the corridors of the training center, still getting used to the routine of the soccer environment. Although her focus was on the athletes, she often visited players from other sports after work, maintaining her commitment to caring for the health of Barcelona's teams.

As soon as she reached the main entrance to the field, her eyes caught a scene that made her slow her pace: Alexia was sitting near the goalpost, her arms resting on her knees, and she seemed distracted, staring at a distant point on the horizon. Beside her, Vicky was gesturing animatedly, clearly talking about something that, at least for a moment, seemed to hold her teammate's attention.

"Doctor, you finally showed up!" Vicky exclaimed, interrupting her conversation and waving at Y/n with an amused smile.

"The coach said you needed me," Y/n replied, a slight smile on her lips as she analyzed both of them with her usual clinical gaze. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing serious, just a routine check," Vicky explained, walking toward the chair near the field.Y/n crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, showing she wasn't entirely buying the answer.

Y/n crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, showing she wasn't entirely buying the answer.

"You're keeping up with the follow-ups properly, right? I don't want one of my best athletes injured due to misconduct or laziness."

Vicky let out a small laugh, shaking her head.

"Always, doctor. Don't worry."

Y/n approached and began lightly massaging Vicky's shoulder, feeling the tension accumulated there.

"Just avoid overexerting yourself in these first few days. We'll start a more intense routine later. But for now, rest."

With an obedient nod, Vicky sat back down, while Y/n turned her gaze to Alexia, who now wore a more serious expression.

"And you, captain? Same knee pain?"

"Yes, the same discomfort as before," Alexia replied, adjusting her posture on the goalpost.

Y/n took a few steps closer, stopping in front of the athlete.

"You should take it easier during training. You could end up with a serious injury if you keep pushing like this."

"It's hard to take it easy when there are important games so close," Alexia countered, her lips curving into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Tomorrow, stop by the sports doctor's office and talk about the pain. Before that, come to my office so I can give you a full report on your case. I want to make sure we're aligned on what needs to be done."

"Alright, doctor," Alexia nodded, trying to ignore the attraction she felt whenever Y/n got close, especially when the woman took on that commanding tone that was so characteristic of her.

After a long day, Y/n was in her apartment, wearing a comfortable shirt and her hair down, finally feeling the relief of being out of the clinical environment. The physiotherapist had barely turned on the TV when she heard the unexpected sound of the doorbell.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to find Alexia there, holding a bottle of wine and with an indecipherable expression.

"Alexia? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to go out with the girls?"

"Dinner was literally an excuse to see you outside of work," Alexia admitted, a bit awkwardly but with determination in her eyes. "But if I'm bothering you, I can leave."

Y/n stared at her for a moment before stepping aside to let her in.

"You're not going to bother me."

Alexia smiled, entering the apartment and handing the bottle of wine to the physiotherapist.

"I brought wine," she commented, handing the bottle over.Alexia let her eyes wander freely over the body of the woman in front of her, feeling a burning sensation in her stomach.

"You know, you should stop staring at me and just kiss me already," Y/n said, making Alexia widen her eyes in surprise.

After a brief hesitation, Alexia moved closer to Y/n, and before she could restrain herself, their lips met in a hungry kiss, filled with repressed desire from the days that had followed their first kiss.

Alexia felt Y/n's hand slide around her waist, firm and decisive, while she herself explored the physiotherapist's body, absorbing the warmth of her soft skin. The beats of her heart seemed to sync with the heat radiating from Y/n's body.

The kiss was a perfect mix of desire and repressed excitement. Alexia's fingers tangled in Y/n's hair as the physiotherapist pushed her toward the wooden table nearby, eventually sitting her down on it. Y/n's hands wrapped around the athlete's waist, holding her tightly.

Y/n was the first to pull away, her lips wandering down Alexia's neck, leaving small kisses that made the woman's skin tingle.

"I thought you wouldn't make a move," Alexia said, her voice still hoarse.

"And I had to take the lead for the second time, Putellas," Y/n replied, kissing the player's jaw.

As Alexia adjusted herself on the wooden counter, still absorbing the warmth of the physiotherapist's kisses, the two exchanged glances that spoke more than any words could express. It was as if the entire environment around them disappeared, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the uncontrollable attraction consuming them.

Y/n, always so methodical and reserved in her profession, allowed herself to be carried away by the spontaneity and passion that Alexia ignited in her. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a rediscovery—a new territory to explore and appreciate.

"This wasn't exactly how I planned this night," Alexia murmured, a playful smile on her lips as her hands slid down Y/n's neck.

"And how did you plan it?" Y/n teased, her voice low and husky, as she brushed the blonde hair away to kiss the curve of Alexia's shoulder.

"Something more... restrained. But I guess with you, that's impossible."

The laugh that escaped Y/n's lips was as genuine as the warmth radiating between them.

The night continued with the wine practically forgotten on the table beside them, as both gave in to the connection that had been growing over the past few days. When they finally slowed down, lying on the living room couch with the lights dimmed, Y/n played with strands of Alexia's hair, who rested her head on Y/n's lap.

"I knew you were intense at work, but I didn't know it applied to... other contexts," Alexia whispered, provocatively.

"You have no idea, captain," Y/n replied, smiling.

And in that moment, Y/n wished Alexia would take her breath away more often.

[beemovieerotica]

someone else has probably said this more eloquently than me, but the way severance isn't leaning away from talking about how racism and sexism are embedded in their dystopia is so refreshing. a lot of sci-fi / dystopias i've seen will do the thing where they construct a fictional underclass that takes the place of POC/women, and all other categories then become equal above that new underclass, which just...doesn't work for me. they could have easily done with this severed workers, and they do address how severed people face societal discrimination, but this becomes a layer on top of existing prejudices, which is truer to how the real world operates.

so we've seen a lot of how racism gets perpetuated by lumon with milchick's story, and we got glimpses into this horrifying reality where women are creating separate consciousnesses in order to give birth, which means that there exist women whose only experience in this world is continual labor and childbearing pain. and there's always been this kind of specter (in the back of my mind at least) of how severance will disproportionately be used against women to further discriminate and exploit them.

it means something very different to be a woman waking up in an unfamiliar place and not remember anything that's happened to you - the pilot scene is loaded with tension because we're watching a woman whose situation we don't fully understand (was she trafficked? abused?) and this inevitably reads very differently than if it had been the original script's conception of mark waking up on the table.

for the first season though, helly is protected by virtue of sharing a body with an obscenely wealthy woman with immense social capital. for gemma, this doesn't hold true. and so NOW we get glimpses into this terrifying, perverse possibility where a man is able to create a separate consciousness in the brain of a woman he's attracted to, and convince her that they're married. it's psychological horror. gemma is so insanely vulnerable and surviving in a hellscape that has been deliberately created by a company not to liberate people, but exploit them!! that's been the goal this entire time - and those who are most disadvantaged by society to begin with, especially and specifically minorities, will have some of the most despicable things done to them.

[elodieunderglass]

As long as we're talking about Killie's family, could you explain why Killie's father married a horrible English witch? I can't decide if it's something as simple as "they love each other" or some arcane horseworld political dynamic. Or both.

(In reference to Killie the jockey OC and his disastrous family)

Oh it’s BOTH. And what do you mean? arcane horse-based power games ARE love, aren’t they? Multidimensional politics involving the least well-adjusted humans and horses on the planet, in the context of a failing-but-still-absurdly-financially-powerful competitive sport, is how you get married. Most people construct a family unit to breed exquisitely tiny jockey babies to further their ambitions of a mad dynasty. Don’t they?

That Woman is a bit of a mystery. She shares a lot with my own mom. I think it’s genuinely surprising that their mother let their father have such a free hand with the children’s names - she agreed to go with the paternal trend of naming their generations all with the same letter, although this may have appealed to her grief at not being able to name them like racehorses Tory sense of orderliness, heritage and control. But then they do mostly have Irish names, apart from her favourite. Maybe she just didn’t care much. Or sensed the leverage it would give her over her husband. Or maybe they all have really absurd middle names that are an act of English colonial violence. Would getting inside her head to find out risk making us worse people? Isn’t that what Twitter people are afraid of?

Because I am brave, I can say (unpacking what my own parents left me with, and looking with fond bewilderment on my children) that most people do not marry with the intention of creating fucked-up children. And the generations that gave rise to us - doing their best, making mixed choices, full of greyness and complexity - fell to trauma and tragedy that is our gift to decline. To hold up a hand, name the worst bits, and stop them passing on - when it’s in your power - is the duty of every human (with/without biological kids of their own). And yet I do have a bit of compassion for the people who came before, whom i never willingly speak to, whom i process through little fictional characters that I shake in a jar. We can break many chains, and some remain unbroken, and in old photos we can see something of what we had in common.

Oh, and this poem is about the twins. But I don’t know which one.

[animamii]

Hit Different | Eren Jaeger 𝜗𝜚 part deux

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Eren meets his match when Ymir's cousin crashes into his life. Classic playboy meets maneater. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𖹭.ᐟ modern aot verse! college au!

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

The sun is a personal attack. Why the hell does it have to be so damn bright right now? You groan, burrowing deeper into the mess of blankets, only to realize—you don’t remember getting into bed. Hell, you barely even remember leaving the party. Your head throbs in protest as you peel open your eyes, met with unfamiliar floral-patterned sheets and a very judgmental Ymir sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Look who’s finally up,” she monotonously spews, not even glancing at you, just tap, tapping away at her phone. “Thought I was gonna have to throw water on you.”

You blink, sluggish, trying to piece together the events of last night. “Where am I?” Your voice is hoarse, like you swallowed an entire desert. You somehow still taste tequila on your tongue, with the little remnants of your pineapple juice chaser.

"Our guest room, dumb ass. Had to carry your ass in here when you passed out in our bed after I dragged your ass out of that party.” Ymir finally looks up, raising a sharp brow. “Speaking of—what the fuck was that with Eren?”

Your stomach does an annoying little flip, but you mask it with a slow stretch, feigning nonchalance. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Ymir scoffs. “Oh, please. The sexual tension in that kitchen could’ve powered the whole damn party.” She looks at you with an obvious look on her face, as if to say, 'don't fuckin play in my face like I'm stupid and blind'. “Dude was looking at you like he wanted to either fuck you or fight you. Maybe both.”

You snort, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You notice your lashes were taken off, now on the dresser next to you. “Not my fault he’s got a staring problem.”

"Right. So you just happened to flirt with Jean all night while Eren practically set him on fire with his mind?"

Before you can answer, Historia walks in looking suspiciously awake for someone who was blackout drunk last night. She holds out a bottle of water and some aspirin like she does this every weekend. "You look like shit," she chirps.

"Good morning to you too," you mumble, snatching the water and chugging it.

“Did you check your phone yet?” Historia asks, perching on the bed beside you as she holds out the tiny pain killers. Taking them from her hand, you toss them into your mouth, swallowing quickly.

A slight sense of dread creeps in. “No? Why?”

Ymir smirks, flipping her phone screen toward you, showing a group chat notification. Connie added Eren to 'Brunch, Bitches'. You groan at the sight of the name, flopping back onto the pillows. Of course. Because why wouldn’t fate be a petty little shit?

Meanwhileeee— Eren wakes up to a headache and text from Connie like he does every Sunday morning.

Connie: Lmao, you tryna get brunch? Eren: Why the fuck would I do that? Connie: Bc ur little crushy crush is gonna be there 😉 Eren: Blocked Connie: Damn bro just pull up, it’ll be fun

Eren stares at his phone, jaw tight, remembering the way you looked at him last night—how you didn’t look at him until the very last second. His grip tightens on his phone. Fuck it.

Connie: Yo, brunch at that spot on 3rd? You guys down?

Ymir: I’m always down for food, babe. But don't tell me we're going to that weird place again with the mismatched plates.

Eren: 😑 It’s good. Stop being a snob.

Connie: I’ll pass on the weird plates place if you bring your cousin,, I still don’t have her number lol

Ymir: lmao what do you mean you don’t have her number?

Connie: Yeahhhh I haven't actually talked to her much,, she kinda makes me scared 😅

Eren: 🙄 You mean you're scared she’ll turn you down like the others?

Connie: Stfu says the one who threw a tantrum cuz she was flirting with Jean ✋🏽🤨

Eren: ... I'm bouta leave ts.

Connie: Yeah that's what I thought ho!

Ymir: ugh. you two stop being dramatic. I'll bring her if she's not too dead

Ymir added y/n to Brunch, Bitches

Connie: Sounds good to me. Jean can’t make it,, btw. He has work. Told him to leave his ass at the office 🙄

Eren: His loss. Those pancakes are gonna smack, I'm ready asl.

Ymir: same. you guys better be on time this time. 😒

Connie: No promises 🙈😜😚😚🦧

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"So we're all just showing up in pajamas huh?" Ymir stands in the doorway of the room, watching as you lazily curl your lashes, leaning against the headboard in their room.

"Yup," you answer, picking up your mascara and applying a coat. "Besides, this is a track suit. It's like multipurpose."

Ymir raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “A track suit, huh? I mean, I guess it does have boujie y2k bitch written all over it...”

You smile, finishing the last stroke of mascara and setting the wand back in the tube with a twist. “Exactly. It's basically brunch attire and I could probably go for a run after if I felt like it. Double duty, extra fruity.”

She snorts, shaking her head as she pushes herself off the door frame. “Yeah, sure, but I’m pretty sure the only thing you’re running for today is the nearest mimosa.”

"And you're running into the nearest Hot Topic wearing that damn flannel and sweats." You playfully quip back, tossing the pillow on your lap at your cousin.

"Somebody say something about my flannel?" Historia's soft voice rings into the room as she steps out of the bathroom, hands busy tying her hair into a messy bun. Her eyes are wide and confused, making you smile at her naivety.

Your eyes dart down to the flannel pajama bottoms she wears. "Can you two get any gayer?? Matching flannel to brunch? Really?"

Ymir lets out a bellow, her hand resting on the back of Historia's neck as she kisses the top of her head, causing Historia's eyes to shut as she beams a content smile. "Mad cause we're in loooooveeee?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, lesbians. I'd be gay too if I had a choice," you roll your eyes sardonically as you stand up and slip your uggs on.

"Oh hell no, we don't need any evil femmes. Regina George is that cautionary tale. Stay being straight, the male population needs their repercussions."

You laugh, zipping your sweater up halfway. "I think the world is far better off with a few evil femmes, if I’m being honest. Less competition, more fun."

Ymir grins, lazily shoving her feet into her sneakers. "Exactly. You get it."

Historia chuckles softly from where she stands by the bathroom mirror, finishing up with her hair. "You look like you stepped out of a 2000's paparazzi photo."

You shoot her a dirty look but can’t suppress the childish smile that creeps onto your face. "Yeah, well, at least I’m not going out looking like a damn lumberjack." You point a finger between the two girls.

Ymir twirls around dramatically, causing the flannel to swish with her movement. "Heyyy, leave my lumberjack alone, you know she loves to climb trees."

"Gross, I don't wanna hear my cousin say nasty flirty shit with her girlfriend, Miri. Save your kinky lumberjack fantasy for the bedroom." You hold a hand up as you step out of the couple's room.

Ymir bursts out laughing, following you down the hallway, while Historia’s face flushes a soft pink. "You're the one who started it," Ymir teases, nudging you with her elbow.

You groan dramatically. "Yeah, well, I should’ve known better than to walk into this disaster of a relationship." Throwing yourself onto their couch, you mindlessly scroll through your phone. “Why does it always feel like I’m the third wheel?”

"Because you are our third wheel?" Ymir says like it's obvious, which it is really. "But it's okay we don't mind being a tricycle sometimes." Taking a seat at the other end of the couch, she props her feet up on your lap.

Historia follows behind Ymir, still trying to hide her smile. "We’re not that bad, are we?"

"You're like an over-the-top romcom couple," you retort, rolling your eyes playfully. "But like, one of those ones that you can’t fully hate because they’re just so damn cute."

Ymir, who’s still grinning, tosses a pillow at you. "Hey, we’re adorable, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You place the pillow under Ymir's feet, not wanting her beat up converse to dirty the gray cotton sweats you were wearing. You were going for low effort, not slob. "Just don’t bring your cheesy couple energy into brunch. I’m not in the mood to be the only one single at the table."

"Oh, please, you’ll be just fine," Historia says with a wink as she slides her crocs on. "And besides, who says you have to stay single? You’ve got options. Plenty really. If you actually stopped with these maneater shenanigans." She nudges you gently, giving you a look more serious than you'd like.

You scoff, locking your phone and tossing it aside, letting it bounce on the couch before it finds a snug spot by Ymir's leg. "Maneater shenanigans? Excuse me, I prefer to call it ‘strategic non-attachment.’ Sounds way more sophisticated." Your nose sticks up in the air in a playfully bratty way, lips forming into a pout.

Historia rolls her eyes as she zips up her sweater, the ziiiiip sound loud just to be extra dramatic. "Sounds like a fancy way to say ‘terrified of commitment.’"

Ymir hums in agreement, stretching her arms behind her head. "Right? Like, you’re out here collecting numbers like Pokémon cards, but let a dude actually like you, and suddenly, it’s ‘ew, feelings.’" She sticks her tongue out in fake disgust as she mocks your tone, making you roll your eyes.

You lazily point at her, feigning offense. "First of all, rude, I don't sound like that at all, cunt. Second of all, you know my philosophy; love is a scam, and I refuse to be a victim."

Historia snorts, grabbing her bag, the plethora of keychains clanging together and making an off-sound symphony of metal, letting anyone in a mile radius know that she picked it up. "Tell that to Eren, who was practically following you around at the party like a lost puppy."

"He’s a player, remember? He’s got a new flavor of the week by now, I’m sure." Your face stays neutral, but the way you grab your phone a little too quickly does not go unnoticed by the girls' sharp eyes. "Anyway," you say, standing up, "we should go before Connie loses his damn mind. He’s already sent, like, three where are you texts."

Ymir smirks, but doesn’t push the topic. "Fine, fine. Let’s roll out, Breakfast Club."

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“Dude, you look like hell.”

Eren groans, standing in Connie’s kitchen, nursing a lukewarm fruit punch Gatorade like it's the last drop of hydration on earth. His hoodie is wrinkled, his hair a mess, and he still reeks faintly of last night’s Hennessy and bad decisions. He'd still be knocked out at home if he wasn't so abruptly woken up by said friend calling him a dozen times.

"Thanks," Eren mutters, feeling like his eye bags were physically weighing him down. "Exactly the kind of encouragement I needed. I shouldn't even be up this damn early."

"It’s literally noon," Connie says flatly, biting into his bagel, cream cheese spilling out of the sides. "And last night? You were gone, man. Like, barely forming sentences. You kept staring at y/n like you wanted to kidnap her ass and lock her in your basement."

Eren scoffs, taking a sip of his drink. "Was not."

"You so were," Connie says, pointing at him with his half-eaten bagel. "And let’s talk about that, actually. You’ve got that look in your eye—like she’s your next target."

Eren rolls his eyes, placing his hands on the counter to steady himself. "She’s not a target, dumbass. She’s just—" He pauses, searching for the words. "She just seems... interesting."

Connie snorts, finding the way Eren stares off into space a tad bit comical and so dramatic in a way only Eren can get away with. "So, what? You wanna wife her up now?"

Eren makes a face. "What? No. I haven’t even talked to her like that yet." He shakes his head as if he's trying to not imagine the thought of him actually, seriously pursuing you. "She’s just… different, y’know? It’s like a challenge."

Connie raises an eyebrow. "So, this is, what, a side quest for you?" Connie would never be one to admit it, but he was rooting for Eren to finally find love, and to finally stop being a damn fuckboy. He was tired of getting at girls only for them to tell him that they had their heart broken by his friend, Eren always leaving a mark on every single one of his hookup's hearts. He just wanted to meet one girl on campus that hadn't fucked Eren.

Eren smirks, leaning his elbows against the counter. "More like a boss level. She’s not like the usual girls. She’s got that whole I don’t give a fuck attitude, and you know I live for that shit." Eren always wanted things he couldn't have.

"So, let me get this straight," Connie says, licking some cream cheese off his thumb. "You’re telling me you spent all night trying to get her attention, and you still couldn’t bag a conversation with her?"

Eren clicks his tongue, looking annoyed and pouty. "It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s just—" He exhales sharply, that familiar frustration from last night coming back for a second. "She was talking to Jean all night. Didn't even glance at me. And then Historia got too drunk, and boom, she was gone before I even got the chance."

Connie bursts out laughing, finally someone was doing what Eren does to him, swooping in on the girl he wants. "Damn. She really curved you before you even got the chance to spit game?"

Eren glares, thick brows furrowing. "Shut up."

"Nah, man, this is hilarious," Connie wheezes. "Playboy Eren Jaeger finally meets a girl who doesn’t immediately fall into his lap? What’s next? Are you gonna start writing music about her?"

Eren rolls his eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying."

"Nah, you’re annoying," Connie shoots back. "’Cause I know you’re gonna spend all brunch trying to get her attention, and if you strike out again, I’m gonna have to sit there and witness the secondhand embarrassment."

Eren smirks, shaking his head. "Not happening."

"Mhmm. So what’s the plan, lover boy?" Connie asks, raising his eyebrows.

Eren grins, finishing his Gatorade and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. "Easy. I just gotta get her to talk to me. Once that happens? Game over."

Connie hums, finding Eren's words a bit deluded. "Man, I dunno. y/n’s like a you but hotter and meaner. You might be out of your league on this one."

Eren just chuckles, grabbing his keys. "There’s no such thing as out of my league, Connie."

Connie shakes his head, shoving the last of his bagel in his mouth. "Aight, bet. Let’s see how that works out for you."

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Connie picked the perfect spot for a hungover brunch, with the diner being less than busy for a Suday afternoon. The last thing you needed was a packed restaurant full of clanking dishes and obnoxious conversations stabbing through your skull. The scent of coffee and syrup lingers in the air, making your tummy rumble since you hadn't eaten since before yesterday's party. The hostess barely looks up from her tablet when Ymir announces the reservation, tapping at the screen with the kind of dead eyed exhaustion that says she’s one wrong order away from walking out mid shift.

"Ugh, why is it so bright in here?" you groan, slipping your sunglasses onto your face as the three of you follow the hostess to your table. Your feet shuffle against the floor, still wishing you were wrapped up in the heavy duvet in Ymir and Historia's guest room.

"Because it’s daytime, dumbass," Ymir snickers, sliding into the booth with Historia next to her. With a sigh you plop yourself beside Historia, slumping against the plush backing of the booth as if it might absorb your exhaustion. The other side is left empty—reserved for the two idiots who were, as expected, late.

"You’re acting like you weren’t up just as late as I was," you shoot back, lazily flipping through the laminated menu before going straight to the real priority: alcohol. "I need a drink. Immediately."

As if on cue, Connie and Eren show up, strolling toward the table with that casual, 'we definitely didn’t wake up on time but we made it' energy. Connie walks with his usual pep in his step, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who failed at punctuality. while Eren lags behind, looking annoyingly good for someone who was supposedly as hungover as you.

"Would you look at this," Connie announces, sliding into the seat across from Ymir. "The brunch bitches, in the flesh."

"You’re late," Historia points out, arching an eyebrow. Leave it to Connie to be late to something he planned.

"I told you no promises that I'd be on time," Connie dismisses with a limp wave. "We’re here now, and that’s what matters."

You don’t miss the way Eren’s eyes flick toward you as he sits across from you, that lazy smirk playing at his lips. Is this boy always smirking? He doesn’t say anything yet, just leans back in his seat, sizing you up like he’s trying to figure out the best way to approach. You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him for more than a second. Instead, you tap your fingers against the menu, eyes scanning over it even though you already know exactly what you want.

"So," you say, flipping the menu shut. "What’s everyone drinking? Because I am not doing this brunch sober." The first thing you do is order a mimosa, needing some sort of substance to numb the shitty feeling your body still harbored.

"Real shit," Ymir agrees, already knowing what's in order. "Mimosas all around?"

"Mimosa tower all around," Historia corrects, already flagging down the waiter with dainty hand.

"That’s my girl," you grin, nudging her shoulder with approval. There’s a silent understanding between you two; brunch isn’t brunch unless you leave a little tipsy.

The server swings by, takes everyone’s orders, and the conversation flows easily—mostly Connie, half-hungover and half-buzzed off life, trying to tell some barely coherent story about a girl he almost picked up last night.

"Bro, she looked just like Jade from Victorious," he insists, hands moving dramatically to prove his point.

Historia gives him a flat look, her usual wide doe eyes now hooded. "You say that about every girl with dark hair and a little eyeliner."

"That’s not even true—"

"It is true," Ymir interjects, rolling her eyes. "Last week it was that bartender at Sina’s. Week before that? The girl at the campus library."

"Okay, but this one really looked like her. Like actually," he tries to defend himself.

"Sure, Connie, sure." Historia nods, knowing how many times he had said this same thing before.

"You have a type," you say in a simple voice, reassuring him . "Own it."

Eren, though? He’s been biding his time, waiting for the right moment. And the second there’s a lull in the conversation, he leans forward, finally addressing you directly.

"So, you," he starts, and you slowly drag your gaze to him. His hair is messy, looking a bit greasy as a few strands fall over his forehead. Who does he think he is? Zayn?

"Me?" you say flatly, feigning disinterest as you take the mimosa flute from the server, keeping your lidded eyes glued on his. Looking away would make Eren feel like he had one up on you in this little staring contest.

"You," he repeats, resting his forearms on the table, emerald eyes locked onto yours. "Tell me something."

"Tell you what, Jaeger?" You take a slow, savoring sip of your drink.

He smirks, realizing you know his name without him ever introducing himself. "Oh, so you do know who I am," Eren smugly drawls, tapping a finger against the table. His posture goes more lax, legs spreading as if he's soaking up the ego that he lost last night.

Your face doesn’t give anything away, but inside, a flicker of irritation sparks. The way he’s looking at you—like he thinks he has the upper hand just because you acknowledged his name—sets something stubborn alight in your chest.

You take a slow sip of your mimosa, letting the bubbles fizz on your tongue before answering. "It’s hard not to when half the girls at that party were either throwing themselves at you or talking about how you used to throw yourself at them." Your memory reels to the blonde girl from last night, calling out Eren's name like he was some sort of damn celebrity.

Connie chokes on his drink, almost spewing his coffee all over the table. Ymir whistles lowly as her eyes dart between you and Eren. Historia presses her lips together, clearly entertained and loving every single moment of this.

Eren tilts his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he chuckles lowly. "Damn. You really came out swinging, huh?" He realizes his reputation precedes him, probably making his conquest of you just a little more difficult.

You lift a shoulder in a lazy shrug, setting your glass down with a soft clink. "Just calling it like I see it."

Historia, biting back a smirk, lifts her mimosa to her lips. Ymir’s grin is damn near feral. And Connie? He’s straight up beaming, like he’s witnessing the most entertaining drama of the century unfold before his very eyes.

Eren doesn’t look deterred, though. If anything, he looks even more interested. His elbow rests on the table as he leans in slightly, his gaze on you even more intense, as if that were even possible. "You keep talking like you’ve got me all figured out."

"Oh, I don’t need to figure you out," you reply smoothly, tilting your head with faux sympathy. "You’re a blueprint, Jaeger. Same old story, different haircut."

Connie loses it. "Bro, she just called you a template! A damn copy-paste ass—"

"Alright, alright," Eren cuts him off, but there’s no real bite to his tone. He’s still smirking, still looking at you like you’re a challenge he's determined to win. "I gotta admit, you got a sharp mouth."

"Comes in handy." You wink, picking up your drink again.

"And here I thought you'd at least pretend to be nice to me."

"Oh, Eren," you sigh dramatically, fluttering your lashes. "I don’t pretend for men."

Ymir wheezes. Historia’s dying. Connie is pounding the table with laughter, while Eren just sits back, shaking his head with that same smirk that hasn't left his face.

"You’re fun," he muses, eyes flicking over you, soaking in every detail. "I like fun." His tongue runs over his teeth as one of his arms slings over the top of the pleather booth lining.

"And I like my mimosa," you quip, raising your glass. "So let’s keep this professional, yeah?" You flash him a toothy smile and he would almost say you looked angelic if your attitude towards him wasn't the opposite.

Eren watches you take a sip, something unreadable flashing across his face. Whatever it is, it disappears quickly, replaced with something more playful. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. We’ll see about that."

Connie wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Goddamn, this brunch was worth it." This is exactly why Connie planned this little get together.

The mimosa tower arrives in all its bubbly glory, and Historia immediately starts pouring like she was born to be a rich housewife. She generously pours champagne from the tower's spout and asks everyone what juice they'd like. With the precision of a seasoned bartender (or maybe just a girl who’s been to one too many brunches), starts pouring everyone their custom mimosas.

“Alright, speak now or forever hold your juice preference,” she announces, tapping the spout like she’s about to make a life changing mixology decision. Large pitchers of different juices are lined up in front of her, waiting to be mixed with the bitter bubbles of champagne.

“Orange, obviously,” Ymir says, leaning back in her habitual manner, she could always get comfortable wherever she was, sprawled out like she's on her living room couch.

“Boring,” Historia mutters but obliges anyway, filling Ymir’s glass with the classic.

“Mango,” you say, watching as she pours the golden liquid. She makes yours strong, basically serving you champagne with a splash of mango flavor. Not that you're complaining though, you wanted to get tipsy.

“Classy,” Historia muses before turning to Connie. “You?”

He grins, his eyes scanning over the line up of juice options. “Mix ‘em. I’m feeling chaotic.” You don't know whether to scrunch your nose up in disgust or be impressed by Connie's idiotically genius idea.

Historia rolls her eyes but does it anyway. “Living on the edge, Springer.” His mimosa turns into a dark muddled purplish color.

“Always,” Connie quips, lifting his glass dramatically before taking a sip and nodding in satisfaction.

Then, finally, it’s Eren’s turn. He’s been quiet, just watching, observing, but now he leans forward slightly, lazily tilting his head toward you. “I’ll take whatever she’s having,” he says, eyes looking at the way you hold the champagne flute, making it wonder how your hand would look wrapped around his—

Ymir snorts. “Of course you will.”

You arch a brow at him over the rim of your glass, your lip curling slightly. “Copy-pasting my drink order too now?”

Eren doesn’t even blink. Just smiles at you, taking the glass Historia hands him. “What can I say? I like good taste.”

Historia fake gags. “God, please don’t flirt in front of my mimosa tower. It deserves better.” She downs half her drink like she’s washing away the secondhand embarrassment before refilling her flute with even more champagne and a splash of pineapple juice.

The table dissolves into laughter, the kind that feels warm and familial—like the collective, unspoken agreement that, yes, all of you may be hungover disasters, but at least you’re in it together. Connie and Historia start arguing over whether brunch food is overrated, with Ymir inserting herself into the debate just to get under Historia’s skin. Meanwhile, you feel Eren’s eyes on you every so often, like he’s still turning your words over in his head, still trying to crack whatever code he thinks you are. But you don’t look at him much. He doesn’t get that satisfaction of holding your attention longer than necessary. Instead, you lean back, sip your mimosa, and let the chaotic symphony of your friends fill the space.

"Alright, let’s toast," Connie raises his frankenstein of a mimosa up in the air.

"To what?" you ask with a lifted brow as you slowly raise your champagne flute.

Connie shrugs, trying to think of something clever. "Surviving another night of our dumbassery. And to, uh… new friendships?" He waggles his eyebrows between you and Eren, clearly trying to stir the pot.

Eren meets your gaze over the rim of his glass. He still has that look—the one that says he’s not done with you yet. You don’t react, just clink your mimosa against his without breaking eye contact. It was fun playing this little push and pull game, even if you were mostly pushing.

"Cheers," you say smoothly, a tiny hint of a sly smile on your face.

"Cheers," Eren echoes, mirroring your expression.

The table drinks, and for a brief moment, everything is peaceful—until Connie decides he needs all the attention again.

"So, get this," Connie starts, already grinning. "Eren and I had the most bullshit morning trying to get here."

"Oh god," Ymir mutters. "This better be good."

Connie rubs his hands together. "Picture this. I wake up, head pounding, mouth drier than the goddamn Sahara. I roll over, check my phone, and see like, five texts from you guys asking if I'm alive, and I’m like, ‘oh shit, we should link up and do brunch!’"

"Five texts isn’t even that much," Historia points out.

"Okay, well, it felt like a lot in my fragile, hungover state," Connie retorts before continuing. "Anyway, Eren comes over looking all tired and shit and heads straight for my couch. I tell 'im I'm gonna shower and to wait for me and guess what?? I come out and he's fuckin' snorin'. I try to wake him up, and this dude is fully knocked the hell out, like a damn corpse." He dramatically makes his head fall back, sticking his tongue out like he's dead to mimic Eren.

Eren exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I was asleep. That’s normal, dumbass."

"Nah, bro, you were dead," Connie insists. "I had to blast music just to get him up."

"Which was so necessary," Eren drawls sarcastically. He swears his ears are still ringing from how close Connie put the speaker next to his ear.

"Yes, it was!" Connie exclaims, still finding the situation hilarious. "Because then this idiot gets up and takes, like, twenty goddamn minutes to stare at his phone instead of—"

"—Because I was looking at something important," Eren interjects.

"Yeah, sure, 'important'. Bro was probably checking his DMs like his life depended on it." Eren doesn’t confirm or deny this, which only makes Connie cackle harder. "Anyway," Connie continues, "we finally leave, and then tell me why this dumbass forgets his wallet, and we have to turn around—"

"I didn’t forget it," Eren argues, taking a sip of his drink. "I just didn’t know where it was."

Historia shakes her head, eyes squinting in exasperation. "That’s the same thing."

"Exactly!" Connie exclaims, arms flailing animatedly. "So now we’re really late, and when we finally get back in my car, the tire pressure light is on. And at that point, I was about ready to just die in my driveway."

"Honestly? You should’ve just let nature take you," Ymir says, stuffing one of the mini quiches the table ordered into her mouth.

"Rude!" Connie gasps, clutching his chest. "Ya know you would miss me if I actually died. Who else would entertain you at brunch?" He tosses a crumple up used sugar packet at her. You glance at Connie and allow yourself a small smile. He’s like a puppy that can’t stop barking, but you kind of like him that way. His antics help distract you from the tension that Eren never seems to let go of. Every time his gaze flickers your way, it’s like a spark of something you can’t name. Not yet, at least.

You softly laugh, finally giving in to the ridiculousness of it all. "So what I’m hearing is, between the two of you, getting to brunch was a damn odyssey?"

"Basically," Connie nods. "But hey, we made it. Even if Eren had to take his sweet ass time getting pretty for you."

You arch a brow at that, glancing over at Eren, whose lips twitch like he’s trying to suppress another smirk. You know Connie’s just stirring the pot, but you can’t deny there’s a certain… appeal in how Eren carries himself. It’s not that he’s trying—he doesn’t need to. And that's what irritates you.

Eren doesn’t even flinch at Connie's comment, instead leaning into it. "Maybe I did," he says smoothly, taking another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. "But even if I didn't I'd still look good enough for ya." It was something about this boy's ego that seemed to tick you off.

You just tilt your head, resting your chin on your palm as you regard Eren with yet another unimpressed stare. "Pretty bold assumption there, Jaeger."

Eren shrugs, an annoyingly smug grin tugging at his lips. "I make good ones."

"Debatable." You gulp the rest of your mango mimosa, wiping the little droplet that was on the corner of your mouth. "But sure, if you wanna tell yourself that." Reaching for a piece of french toast, you dip it in syrup, taking your time as you chew slowly, almost to taunt him. The silence between you both stretches, and for a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the satisfaction of the game—your back straight, your expression utterly indifferent while his is all too easy to read: that quiet frustration that you’re just out of reach.

Connie, wiping the fake tears from his eyes, waves a hand between the two of you. "Oh, this is good. This is so good. Keep going. I’m invested." Cause who needs reality television when you have two friends at each other's throats.

"You would be," Historia mutters before popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. Although she's just as invested in this fiasco.

Eren leans forward again, that damn smirk still present. "Alright, since we’re making assumptions—what about you? Took extra time getting ready just in case I showed up?" He wants to make you flustered, wants to see you blush or tense up or show any other emotion besides indifference to him.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, sweetheart, I barely made it out of bed. The only thing I got pretty for was this mimosa tower." There’s no hesitation in your words, no hesitation in the way you look at him. You’ve got to keep your ground. He’s fishing for something, but you’re not biting.

Eren clicks his tongue, feeling stumped. For once he didn't have a clever comeback. "Damn. Shot down again just like that." His fingers tap on the table as he falls back against the back of the booth.

You flash him a mock sympathetic look, plump bottom lip jutting into a pout. "Tragic, really."

Ymir whistles, tearing into yet another one of the quiches like it's popcorn and this is a show. "Alright, this is a slow burn in real time, and I’m loving it." The tension is so thick between you and Eren, it’s almost palpable. Whether it’s sexual, confrontational, or just a game of egos—you’re not sure, but everyone at the table feels it.

Historia leans on her elbow, eyeing you both. The stare down the two of you are having seems almost intimate. "You sure you two haven’t met before? Because this feels... personal."

You roll your eyes, trying to avoid the sudden rush of heat that floods your chest. "Nope. Just have a sixth sense for bullshit." Honestly you were tired of this little act Eren was putting on. From the stories Ymir and Historia had told you he was nowhere near as nice as he's pretending to be right now. You were waiting for his entitlement and attitude to shine through.

Eren huffs out a chuckle at that, shaking his head. "Noted." Despite the sour look you try to put on, Eren can see that flushed look you try to suppress, and although you would deny, deny, deny, he knows that he's slowly but surely gonna get what he wants. With that thing being you.

You take the opportunity to turn away, reclaiming some semblance of control in this little exchange. You busy yourself with refilling your mimosa, making a point to give him nothing else to latch onto. But then you glance over at him again, catching him staring at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’re almost sure he’s trying to figure you out, and maybe it’s working. Maybe he’s getting under your skin more than you’d like to admit. But before you can process it, Ymir’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

"You two are ridiculous," she says, leaning back in her chair, as she watches the two of you basically having a staring contest still. "You know that, right?"

You shoot her a look, but before you can respond, Historia accidentally spills her sixth mimosa, her face flushed, a giggle escaping her lips. "Oopsieeee," she hiccups, taking a french toast stick and sopping up the spilled liquid before taking a bite.

"Uh oh," Connie says, grinning. "Looks like someone had a little too much to drink already." Connie honestly loves when Historia gets like this, she's the definition of white girl wasted, always turning into a completely different person once she gets some alcohol in her system.

Historia leans heavily against Ymir, blinking slowly as she chews. "I’m fine," she slurs. "Just a little tipsy."

The whole table laughs as Ymir grabs her arm to steady her, clearly rolling her eyes but not too bothered by it. As the rest of the group focuses on Historia, you glance back at Eren, only to find him looking at you—his expression unreadable now, though the edge of amusement hasn’t left his eyes. You almost think he's going to say something—almost want him to—when Ymir interrupts, loud and clear.

"Okay, enough of you two and your weird ass tension. You’re both insufferable. Let’s get this one home before she turns into a puddle of bad decisions," Ymir grumbles, throwing Historia’s arm around her shoulder. You almost wonder how Historia got so drunk, but then you realize how tiny she is and just how much she drank. Plus, the girl barely touched any of her food, too focused on downing mimosa after mimosa.

You stand up from the table, shaking your head at the chaos of it all. You’re a little drunk, a little tipsy, but mostly, you’re irritated that the moment was so easily broken. You grab your purse, eyes locking with Eren’s one last time as you follow the others. For a split second, you wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s still amused by you, or if he’s over it. You’re not sure. But whatever it is, it’s a thought that will linger long after this brunch ends. As you step out of the diner the cool air hits you, and the rest of the group’s voices fade into the background. You feel his gaze on your back, and the flutter in your stomach is the only clue you need: this isn’t over.

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

tags ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @cc1306 @booksandbud4me

[s4turns-st4rs]

While we're talking about girl dad's I could totally see Sirius being a girl dad, he gives me those vibes man. (I wish he was my dad 😔)

girldad!sirius black who’s dark hair contrasts perfectly with the ribbons your daughter tied in his hair. it’s messy, tangled curls sticking out. he knows it’ll be a pain to take out, but the smile on your little girl’s face makes it all worth it.

helping her make her breakfast in the early morning, rising out of bed like a zombie, as her tiny hand dragged him into the kitchen. she pulled the bread from the cupboard, and busied herself putting them in the toaster, as she pushed her father to get the nutella from the high shelf she couldn’t reach.

when you stumble out from the bedroom, finally having woken up, your husband and daughter are sharing nutella toast, hair in matching ribboned pigtails. your two favourite people, curled up together on the lounge, like two peas in a pod.

[prael]

Conciliation

ILLIT Moka x Yunah // part 2 to Punishment

words: 6,035 Masterlist

Two weeks have gone by. Two weeks since the incident in their dorm room. For Yunah, it's as though that night never happened. It was just some afterthought that had been shoved down in the deep corners of her memory, as though she would sooner forget and have Moka pretend it was nothing at all.

Moka thinks of nothing else.

She thinks about it in her classes, daydreaming when she should be practising. Rehearsals have become a stop-start procedure, with everyone turning to Moka with the same question: are you okay? She feels so pathetic. Embarrassed at herself, but still thinking, wondering, wishing, that maybe tonight might be that night; that Yunah might snap at some point and give her just a single touch.

She's thought about doing it again, just the same way, touching herself while Yunah is around. Even the mere idea has Moka wet with shame. It would work, surely, it has to work. Then Moka talks herself out of it. Doing it again, trying to instigate a reaction, she may as well just confess, beg, and plead with Yunah. Admit that she likes her. Tell her just how crazy it makes Moka when she walks around the room in only a t-shirt and panties. When she shakes her hair loose out of a ponytail, her brunette hair cascades in the moonlight, looking so soft and thick, and Moka can't get over her.

They're on their way out of the country, for another big show. Another sleepless night spent travelling. Another opportunity for Yunah to glare at Moka when she's obviously not focused or too busy stumbling through her moves. Another opportunity for her to sit there, only her and her dirty, little thoughts.

There's a slight turbulence, enough to make the sleeping Yunah move in her seat, her head rolling to the side. She looks peaceful and beautiful. That same fringe she's so particular about always ends up in her eyes, so naturally, Moka wants to reach up and push it away, but she forces herself back, that's the last thing she wants; to wake her and look suspicious.

"Not sleeping?" A voice from the other side, makes Moka tear her eyes away from Yunah and find Minju. Minju gives a curious look at Yunah before returning her gaze to Moka.

"Can't sleep," Moka confesses with a sigh.

Minju doesn't reply at first, the look she is giving, makes Moka believe she is contemplating whether she should share or not. "Me neither. Keep thinking about tomorrow."

Moka hums a vague affirmative in response. She wants to appear agreeable and that she isn't preoccupied with the thoughts of someone else.

Minju gives her a wry smirk. "What about you? You keep spacing out."

Her question strikes a chord in Moka. For some reason, she can't deny it or lie about what's been going through her head, and even when she should probably deny it, Moka still finds herself talking about her. "Have you ever liked someone who hated your guts? Like so much it physically hurts," Moka can't help the questions slipping past her lips. It's pathetic really. She should know better, and she knows she's saying too much and too openly, but it's not her fault. She just can't handle it all, not for another minute.

"Are you saying there's a guy you like?" Minju asks, which at least offers Moka the reassurance that the others haven't realised what's going on; why else would she ask that? "You know we're not allowed to date anyone, Moka."

"I know, and I'm not going to date anyone, but I can still like someone, right?"

Minju laughs. "Yeah, you can do what you like," she replies while stealing another look at the older girl across from them, sleeping. "So why does he hate your guts then?"

"Well, I—"

Yunah sighs, breaking the conversation as the pair suddenly falls quiet. They freeze like deer caught in the headlights of a car as Yunah, shifts in her seat, adjusting her position before relaxing again. There is a relief between them, letting out a heavy breath at the realisation that their friend is still very much asleep.

"Lucky her," Minju finally says, shaking her head. "I can't wait for us all to be back in our hotel rooms and having some proper sleep." Minju sighs, turning back to Moka. "You were saying?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, forget I said anything," Moka rambles. She finds herself silently cursing herself. If the truth of her desires slipped and spilt out, there's no telling what kind of trouble she would be in. But Minju looks at her in a strange sort of understanding, nodding and giving her a reassuring smile.

Moka returns the sentiment and lays her head on her friend's shoulder. Her heartbeat starts to slow down, and as time passes, sleep draws in, luring her into its clutches, and at last, her eyelids flutter shut.

-

It's 4 am and they're shambling into the hotel lobby, weary, eyes burning, muscles tired, with sore shoulders and legs.

"We've booked rooms for you all. We just went with the same arrangement as the dorm," the manager explains, sending Moka's heart crashing. She and Yunah. Of course. She nods weakly and trudges to the lift alongside her members.

Yunah opens the door, and Moka follows. They haven't spoken a word to each other. The moment the hotel door is closed, and Moka drops her bag on the floor, Yunah takes off her jacket, hanging it on a hook. Moka slips her shoes off, trying her hardest not to make eye contact.

"Moka?"

Fuck. Why couldn't she just walk past without saying anything? Moka's cheeks feel hot. Why now? She glances up, and the look she receives from Yunah doesn't give anything away.

"What's gotten into you? Are you sick?" She snaps, walking right up to her. A rough hand takes hold of her chin, forcing her face up and it shocks Moka so much that it knocks her off her axis for a moment.

There she is. Again. So close. It takes a moment, or three, to figure out what she even said. Moka goes to shake her head, but with her face being held so firmly in place, it's impossible. "No, I'm fine." She swallows. "Just a little nervous."

"Why are you lying to me?"

Her face is still gripped, she's forced to keep eye contact with her and she hates it. She hates that her skin prickles as Yunah's beautiful gaze pours down.

"Whatever," Yunah says incredulously, her hand holding Moka's jaw. Moka nods as best as she can and then she's released. She misses her touch the moment Yunah's hand is gone and she's left to drop her head. "We can't have you being distracted tomorrow. Just get it together."

The older girl retreats into the bathroom, closing the door and leaving a disgruntled Moka alone. She could scream, but instead, she swallows down her frustration.

Moka undresses and slips into her shorts and tank top. She flops onto the soft covers and waits. Curses and empty wishes run through her mind; her fist tightens into a frustrated ball and her eyebrows furrow. How is she supposed to do anything like this? How can she think about anything other than her?

Soon, Yunah returns, but all Moka gets from her is silence, nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet here she is, lying and waiting. Pathetic, it's downright fucking pathetic. She takes a deep breath and lets herself turn and stare at her back. "Yunah?"

"What?"

"Why did you make me feel good?"

"You talk about that like it meant something," Yunah responds, turning her attention away from her phone. Her beautiful hair fans out against the pillow.

"Did it?"

Yunah responds with her own question, "Did you want it to?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." She turns her attention back to her phone, effectively dismissing her and the conversation altogether.

"Please—"

"Goodnight, Moka," Yunah bites. Her tone leaves no more room for discussion. No room for questioning.

Moka clamps her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. What more could she say? How many ways could she plead with her before it becomes demeaning? But the silence in her room makes the ache between her thighs feel unbearable and impossible to ignore.

It's nearly an hour later when Moka gives in, dipping her hands between her legs. She rubs against the front of her shorts and shudders as she teeters on the brink of losing her senses and giving in to her desires. But the bed shifts, the sheets move, and she stops.

Yunah rolls over and she looks at Moka, as though expecting her to do something, anything. The eye contact alone has Moka feeling so small and helpless.

"Do it," Yunah whispers.

"W-what?"

"I know you want to. These past weeks you've been so distracted. I know you're always thinking of it, of what happened, what I did. I see the way you look at me."

"I... I'm sorry."

Yunah rolls her eyes. "Just do it."

"But you hate it. It makes you uncomfortable, I can't—" Yunah cuts Moka off as she moves closer, she slips her fingers past the waistband of Moka's shorts, down to the wet warmth of her cunt. "Yunah," she whimpers. Moka bites her lip to hold in the noises, but it's impossible to stay silent as Yunah runs teasing touches over her lips, threatening to slip between them.

"You can't do it, can you? Not on your own, not since I've touched you." She says it so plainly that Moka can't help but agree. She knows the truth. "But you don't want to ask for my help because you know I'll just say no. So here I am, doing it for you." Yunah's finger slides between Moka's lips and runs up to her clit. It makes Moka gasp. "Think about why that is. Why would I want to help you?" she murmurs as her fingers circle the hard, little nub.

"I don't know." The words are barely audible.

"I think you do," Yunah says and then her fingers go away.

"No, don't stop."

"I know it's hard, Moka," Yunah whispers. Her fingers are back. They're running through the lips of Moka's cunt, sliding easily, making the skin slick and sensitive. Moka can hardly think as the fingers run up and down, stroking and teasing, edging closer to the opening. "But I need you to say it."

"Because," Moka chokes out. Her head is spinning, and she feels so dizzy. She can hardly form a single thought. All she knows is how good she feels, how desperate she is for those fingers. "You like making me feel good. Because you want it just as bad."

"Because I want it, Moka," Yunah whispers, pushing a single finger into Moka's tight entrance. It sinks in so deep and she moans. She's so fucking sensitive. The feeling of the finger as it enters and stretches her, the feeling as it curls inside, the way it moves slowly and deliberately, is enough to have her trembling. Yunah has to lean in and put her mouth by Moka's ear. "I can't get the fucking thought of you out of my head."

"Oh god."

The words have the desired effect and Yunah's hand moves faster, the thrusts come harder and Moka is completely helpless. Her body starts to arch, her back rises off the mattress and her chest is pulled upwards as if offering herself to the other girl. Her little chest rises, her nipples hardening under the material of her top. Yunah looks at her body and smiles. She pushes a second finger inside, her thumb begins to work her clit and Moka's hands are holding tight to the pillow behind her.

Moka doesn't care that she's moaning, or that she can't stop saying her roommate's name. All that she cares about is how her body is starting to clench, how her hips are bucking and how her legs have gone so rigid, and it's just the best feeling, the best thing that she's ever experienced in her life. Moka opens her eyes and finds Yunah staring. Her face is so close; Moka wants her closer.

She has the overwhelming desire to taste Yunah's lips, but not the strength to pull her down, so she settles for the fingers inside of her and the hand that keeps working her cunt until the orgasm comes.

Moka pulls the pillow tight around her head, muffling the sound that spills from her mouth. She feels her walls tightening around Yunah's digits, her entire body clenching and shaking, and her eyes rolling back. She's so close.

Yunah climbs over her, kneeling between her slender thighs and her fingers never leave. They're so deep. The pressure is too intense. She feels the walls inside of her start to tighten, the heat growing inside her. Moka's head turns and buries into the pillow she holds onto for dear life.

"Look at me, Moka," she coos, leaning into her. "I said look at me."

Yunah takes Moka's hand, prying it away from the pillow. Powerless to resist, Moka's arm is pushed above her head, and then the other. They're placed together, held under Yunah's grasp and Moka's head is free and forced to look at the beautiful woman on top of her, forced to see those deep brown eyes and that gorgeous hair, that pretty face with the full lips, the perfect lips, the ones Moka wishes were pressed against her. But that would be too much. Moka would never want anything more ever again. If she kisses her then it's game over, all she would ever need would be right here. Moka could never think about anyone or anything other than her, ever again.

Moka's stomach tightens, and her face contorts. She lies there helplessly as she is overcome, and the climax hits. She can't help it. She's moaning so loudly and she's clenching around Yunah's fingers. Her legs shake and her arms try to pull themselves away, to have something to cling to. But she can't move. All Moka can do is give into the pleasure. It washes over her, the sensation coursing through her body, making her toes curl.

She leaks messily onto Yunah's hand. The sounds of wetness fill her ears, the lewd, squelching noises as the fingers continue to work her pussy, fucking her through the high and prolonging the sensation until her mind blanks, her body convulses and her voice breaks into a pathetic whine. Moka's head thrashes back and forth, and she's crying, sobbing out loud.

She's left panting, chest heaving as she looks at Yunah who's smiling. That beautiful smile, the one she loves to see.

"You're so pretty when you cum, Moka." She says it most sweetly, and her eyes seem so sincere. Moka wants to kiss her more than ever, and she wants Yunah to feel good too, just like she did. But her body feels like jelly and she can barely move. So she can only lay there and try to catch her breath.

Yunah lowers, laying her head on Moka's chest, her ear pressing gently to her heart, as though listening to it. Her body still twitches and shakes and her legs remain spread with Yunah still nestled between them. Moka tries to calm herself, and she can feel Yunah's breathing slow and soften, her weight shifting on top of her.

"I'm sorry, Moka. For ignoring you, but I knew this would happen. I knew that once I gave in, I wouldn't be able to stop," she murmurs. Moka can only manage a hum in reply. She doesn't even understand what Yunah means, not really, she can barely understand her words. Yunah puts her hand on her waist and slips her own pyjama shorts over her hips and down her long legs. She kicks them off and they're left tangled up at the foot of the bed.

It's when Yunah raises her head from Moka's chest that Moka realises what's happening. Yunah slips her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and off of her legs and throwing them aside. Moka feels so exposed. She can't hide the fact she's blushing, that she's so nervous, that this is what she's been waiting for, what she's wanted.

Yunah pulls her own shirt over her head and throws that off the bed too, and now Moka's staring. Tight and toned. Perky. It's like she can't help but let her eyes roam. She's the most perfect girl in the world. Moka's hands reach up to her, running along the curves of Yunah's body, the smoothness of her skin. Her thumbs brush over her nipples, feeling them harden and rise.

Yunah sighs, and Moka wants to make her do that again. She wants to hear all her pretty noises, just like Yunah said she loved hearing hers. So, she sits up and her hands go around Yunah, holding onto her, bringing her closer. She's so tall. Moka's face presses into her chest and she breathes against her, feeling the heat and inhaling the sweet scent of her.

Moka is so nervous. So anxious that she will do something wrong. She has to force herself to lift her head and part her lips, to lean forward and place her mouth over the stiff, little peak on Yunah's breast. She sucks, pulling it in, feeling the way it moves, the way Yunah lets out a breath and the hand that comes up to her hair. Fingers run through her black locks, nails drag along her scalp, and Moka moves her head to the other, repeating the motion, sucking the skin, flicking her tongue over it and pulling it with her lips.

Yunah moans and the grip tightens, she holds her head, and the other arm wraps around Moka. Reassurance in the form of a touch. It tells her she's doing well, that Yunah's liking it. That's all that matters. Moka wants her to like it, she wants to please her, and she wants to know how to make her feel good. She smiles against her smooth skin, placing kisses, licks, and bites all over her. Appreciation for this girl and her beautiful, wonderful body.

Then Moka finds herself lying on her back. Yunah climbs on top of her and Moka's heart thuds hard against her chest. This is everything she's wanted.

"Don't freak out," she whispers, her breath against Moka's face.

"Never."

Yunah shifts her weight and then Moka feels it, the wet heat of Yunah's cunt against hers, and the sensation of her body on hers. Moka looks down at their bodies and can see the point of their connection, where their skin meets. The sight of it alone makes her mouth go dry, her stomach flips, and it takes all her strength to keep herself together. And then Yunah rocks her hips, grinding against Moka, her slick pussy rubbing against Moka's. The sensation of her skin moving, her wetness, it makes Moka's eyes roll back.

"Yunah..." Moka gasps, her body arching, and Yunah pushes her down.

She does it again, and again, sliding against her, pushing her hips hard. Her breathing is growing faster, and heavier, and her moans are so quiet. Sparks ignite in her lower body. The pressure, the heat. It feels so good to have Yunah against her like that.

Yunah leans down and buries her face in the crook of her neck and she kisses and nibbles at her skin there, whispering against the spot. "Why does this feel so good?"

"I don't know," Moka gasps. She's losing her breath already. She's panting and she feels so hot and dizzy, but in the best possible way.

Yunah can't hold back, she can't hide the fact that Moka makes her lose her control. This cute, petite little thing below her; with her innocent, big brown eyes, and her adorable smile, that makes Yunah want to melt, she's her weakness. Moka, who she heard so many times, night after night. Moka, who she's ignored and tried to put from her mind, but can't. And now she has her. She has her little Moka beneath her, squirming and panting and whining, and Yunah's hips can't help but rut down into her.

Yunah can't get enough of it. Moka's pussy feels so soft and warm against her own. The slick mess that grows between them, it's addicting. The sounds are even worse. She wants to make more. She wants Moka to scream.

All the confusion Yunah once felt has vanished, and in its place, a sense of belonging, a feeling that she has to do this. That she's supposed to be in this bed with Moka and no one else. She never understood it. She was scared to admit it. But now there is nothing else she could ever ask for.

Yunah takes Moka's hand, interlocking fingers and squeezing. It's reassuring, and Moka's grip on her hand is strong, it tells Yunah she's feeling the same way.

"Moka."

"Yes," Moka answers.

Yunah looks down at the younger girl. Moka's face is contorted with pleasure, her lips are parted, and she's breathing so hard. She's completely lost to her sensations, and the sight makes Yunah's heart flutter, her skin burns and her body feels weak. "Moka," she whispers again. This time Moka's eyes open, looking straight at her. Their gazes lock and their fingers squeeze. "I like you."

"I like you too." Moka's smile is the most beautiful thing Yunah has ever seen, it triggers an instinct to fuck her harder. Moka's hand snaps to Yunah's hip and holds her tightly. She's moaning louder now. She can't hide it.

The bed creaks, the headboard hitting the wall. The sheets become tangled. They're sweaty and panting, and Moka's moans grow more desperate by the second.

Yunah can't stop herself any longer. Her stomach tenses tight, her body is on the verge of breaking and she can't take much more. "Moka," she calls her name, she's saying it so desperately. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." She can't hold on. Moka feels too good. Everything about this moment is perfect. It feels so right. Yunah can feel her own pussy twitch, she's getting closer to that edge. She can hear Moka whine, she's almost there. She wants Moka to finish. She needs it. "Cum with me."

"I want it, please Yunah. Please make me cum."

Yunah grinds harder. Moka's moans are so pretty. They fill her ears and they're the only sound in the room. They're music, they're the most perfect thing she's ever heard and the best song Moka has ever sung.

Yunah feels Moka's fingers tighten on her hip as she bucks her own up to meet Yunah's thrusts, and the sensation overwhelms them both. They cling to each other, both bodies trembling as the climax washes over them. Moka cries out, and it's loud. She doesn't even try to muffle herself as she squeezes Yunah's hand, and her hips jolt against hers. Yunah's face buries itself in Moka's neck, groaning into the skin, kissing, biting and sucking as the heat consumes her and her mind blanks, the pleasure takes over.

They lay there for what feels like forever, panting, their hearts thumping in their chests, the sound filling their ears.

It's then that Yunah looks up, pulling her head away. She looks down at Moka. Moka, her Moka, staring back up at her with her big eyes. The most gorgeous girl she's ever met. Her skin is so smooth and flawless. Her little nose, her cute lips, and the black, messy hair splayed on the pillow behind her, framing her face like a painting.

"Moka."

"Yunah."

Yunah leans down, pressing their foreheads together and Moka smiles, she can feel it against her face. Their breaths mingle and their hearts are so close, and Moka is holding onto her.

"I shouldn't have," Yunah pants, "shouldn't have lied to myself. Shouldn't have tried to ignore this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay." She can feel Moka's lips brushing against hers. They're so close. It's just a little movement to close the distance between them, but Moka does it. She pushes her head up, and then Yunah's lips part. She kisses her and Yunah can't help but kiss her back, her tongue slipping into her mouth. Their tongues swirl and slide. Moka moans against her lips. The sound sends shivers down her spine. And Yunah wants her. She wants her so bad.

Moka is panting when Yunah breaks the kiss.

"It's okay now," Moka whispers, her breath ghosting over her. Yunah feels so weak. She's completely helpless.

"I think we need to talk about some stuff. But not now, not right now."

"No, not now," Moka replies with a giggle, leaning up and stealing another kiss.

Yunah gives her a lazy smile, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She rolls onto her back, lying next to Moka, their legs still half-tangled. They lie in a comfortable silence. It feels so natural and normal as if it were always supposed to happen, that they were always meant to end up here. Yunah turns and looks at her, watching Moka stare at the ceiling.

"Is it weird that I want to do it again?" Yunah asks.

"Probably," Moka answers. She looks at her, grinning, "But so do I."

-

Thirty minutes later and Yunah finds herself mounted over Moka's face.

She's on her knees, straddling the girl, and the tip of her tongue is tracing patterns against her cunt. She's writing out love letters with her tongue. Signs her name on her clit and makes her legs shake.

Yunah braces, flat-palmed against the wall and throws her head back as she cries out Moka's name, grinding her pussy against the tongue. Sensitive and overused, yet still she wants this. She has to. It's not an option at this point. She's going to ride her until she can't possibly take anymore.

There's no coming back from this. There is only this, them, this room. The whole world has fallen away. It doesn't matter.

Moka is all that matters.

The warm tongue pushes past her lips and sinks into the soft heat, tasting her from the inside. She's moaning into Yunah's cunt, sending the most beautiful vibrations against her and Yunah is so fucking sensitive. Her thighs are shaking and she feels weak, she's struggling to hold herself up, but she can't bring herself to get off her.

"Your tongue, fuck," Yunah moans. The wet tongue laps at the mess, licking up her slick. Yunah can feel Moka swallowing, gulping her down, her little noises growing louder as she feasts. She's going to cum all over that pretty face. She's going to ruin Moka's perfect features and make them shine. Yunah is so close. She can't stop herself from thrusting forward. Her pussy is aching for more, throbbing as Moka eats her. She needs this, wants this.

"Moka... I can't stop, please don't stop," Yunah pants, pushing herself back onto her. Moka grips Yunah's thighs and digs her nails into them. "Fuck!" Yunah squeals. Her hips jerk forward. It's happening. It's too much. Moka's tongue won't stop, it swirls inside of her, and Yunah's legs are trembling.

Her thighs close tight around Moka's face, trapping it between her legs and her back arches, her mouth open, her voice hoarse and broken as she cums, and the walls inside of her clench tight.

And Moka is still eating her out. Yunah can feel the hot mess dripping from her pussy. She feels so sensitive. She can barely stand it, and her body twitches and spasms, and her heart pounds so hard. Her mind blanks. She's so tired, her body aching and exhausted, but her pussy still wants more.

"Yunah," Moka calls to her, patting her thigh and bringing her back from the brink of collapse, "Yunah, I can't breathe." Her little, muffled pleas have her snapping back to reality, realising that Moka's face has gone bright red. Yunah shifts, and she watches the way the girl gasps for air.

"Fuck, Moka." Yunah climbs from her and collapses beside her, chest heaving, sweat coating her skin. "Are you alright?"

Moka doesn't respond at first. She lays there, taking a breath and then she's turning, moving and climbing onto Yunah. "More than alright."

Yunah smiles at her, a sleepy smile that makes Moka blush, and she reaches up to push her black hair from her eyes. Her pretty little eyes are half-lidded and glazed, and her cheeks are rosy and flushed. Lips wet, with Yunah's arousal, it might be the hottest thing she's ever seen. "You're so pretty."

Moka giggles, a bashful laugh as she looks away. "Stop it."

"No," Yunah whispers with a smirk that she knows Moka likes. "I won't."

She flips Moka over and the girl lands with a yelp, a surprised and adorable little sound. She takes her liberties, to kiss and to bite, to suck her skin. Yunah is marking her. Deep kisses on her neck, bites that make Moka's body flinch and writhe, and her little noises are like the prettiest melody in the world. "So pretty," she repeats. "All mine."

Yunah moves down her body, her kisses trailing and leaving little bruises. She sucks her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue, sucking and nibbling on the stiff peak and making Moka's body buck up. Her mouth goes to the underside of her breasts, to the flat expanse of her stomach. She sinks her teeth in and Moka is whining. Her back is arched, her head pushed back and she's gripping the sheets, and Yunah is getting closer and closer to her destination. "My pretty girl," she murmurs into the smooth skin.

"Yunah," Moka whines and Yunah looks up, finding her staring, biting her lip. Her eyes are wide and desperate, pleading.

She lifts Moka's leg and kisses the back of her thigh. The younger girl is so sensitive. Her skin shivers as Yunah's mouth moves closer to her core. "Once we're home, Moka, I want to fuck you. Like really fuck you, hard, fast. I've seen those videos. What you watch when you're on your own." Moka squeals and her face goes crimson. She covers her head with a pillow. Yunah can't help the smile as she continues, "I want to do those things with you. One of those strap-ons. You'll look so pretty taking it."

Yunah kisses the girl's clit and Moka's entire body flinches. A hand shoots to Yunah's hair and grabs tight, holding onto the locks. She smiles against her, teasing her pussy, her mouth kissing and sucking on the lips of her cunt. "You can do anything you want to me," Moka gasps. Yunah can't help the laugh that slips out, a laugh of amusement and happiness, and Moka is squirming.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that." Yunah kisses the mess from her lips, and Moka lets out the cutest, most frustrated noise, her hips lifting and her back arching.

"You can use me."

Yunah stops for a second. She raises her head and finds Moka looking at her. There is a blush to her cheeks and she looks embarrassed, and maybe even a little shy, but that glint in her eye is undeniable.

Yunah lowers herself, pressing a soft kiss to Moka's inner thigh. She takes her time, making a show of it, and Moka's breathing is getting heavier, more impatient. "Yeah?" She kisses her again. "Let me bend you over?" Another kiss. "Hold your face down on the bed while I fuck you?"

"Please," Moka whines, "Yes, yes."

"What else?" Yunah's eyes flick up. Moka's chest is rising, falling, rising.

Moka whines again. She throws her head back. Her body trembles. Yunah kisses her cunt. It's a deep kiss. It has Moka's hips bucking against her lips. "You can be rough with me," she finally manages, her voice breathy.

"Rough?" Yunah's eyebrow arches. She dips her tongue past the wet entrance and laps at Moka's heat. The girl's body is writhing against her mouth and Yunah can't help the muffled giggle. She's so cute like this, so easy to tease. Moka is panting. Her face is contorted in a desperate need for more, for release.

"If you want to," she mumbles, and Yunah is so tempted to tease her further. But Yunah is just as eager. She is so desperate for more of her taste, her body, her scent.

"Maybe," she whispers against the wet lips, "maybe, I'd rather be soft with you." Yunah sinks two fingers into her tight, wet hole. Moka gasps, and then moans. Yunah's mouth latches to the little nub of her clit, sucking it and swirling her tongue. The fingers thrust into her and curl. The walls tighten and tremble. "Take my time, fuck you slowly."

Yunah starts a slow rhythm with her fingers. Moka is whimpering, moaning and trying to buck into the fingers. But Yunah is stronger. Her free hand grabs the younger girl's thigh and forces her down, keeping her still and making her accept the pace.

"Slowly," Yunah repeats, "So slow you'll think it's torture. And I won't let you cum, not for a long time, until you can't bear it anymore." She kisses the skin, kisses her pussy, and then looks at Moka who's staring. She's flushed, her eyes wide and needy, her lips parted, and her body is trembling. "Until your little body is begging for release." She pushes another finger into Moka. She can feel the tightness around her digits and the way she throbs.

"Oh fuck," Moka moans.

"Or maybe I'll fuck you hard and fast." Yunah pushes down hard on Moka's thigh, and the pace picks up, the fingers slamming in and out. The lewd, wet sounds that Moka makes are enough to drive her crazy, the sloppy, messy sounds that come with every thrust and the sight of Moka's pussy, spread wide, stretched and accepting everything she's given, it has Yunah's head spinning. She feels delirious, high off of the pleasure she can give this pretty girl. "Hard, fast. Pound your pussy and make your entire body ache. Make you scream, make you beg me to stop because you can't handle anymore."

Moka's throat strains, and her body tenses. "I can't," Moka moans and Yunah can feel her pussy twitching, clenching around the digits inside of her. So easily does she cum against Yunah's fingers, and she's crying out, loud, without restraint. She doesn't even try to hold it back, and she's so wet. Her cum is leaking out, soaking her fingers, and it's the hottest thing Yunah has ever seen. She can't take her eyes away. She can't look anywhere but the way that Moka is cumming against her fingers.

She curls her fingers a little more and moves a little faster. The flow of cum becomes stronger, and Yunah can't stop the groan that leaves her. "Fuck." Moka's body is thrashing, she's whining and whimpering, and then it sprays a little, her cum, squirting from her and soaking her hand, her arm, the sheets. It leaks and sprays, it's the hottest thing she's ever seen, and Moka's body is spasming. Her hips are bucking and the moans sound so pretty.

And then Moka goes limp, she collapses onto the mattress and pants. She's staring up at the ceiling and her body is still trembling and shaking. Cum still leaking out and staining the sheets. All she sees are stars; pretty, beautiful stars.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you do that," Yunah murmurs as she pulls her soaked hand away.

"Shut up." Moka giggles and pulls her hands to her face. She covers her blushing face. "It's so embarrassing," she mumbles into her palms.

Yunah laughs, climbing from between her legs and lying next to her. Moka turns, lying on her side. "It's not," she whispers, "it's hot." Yunah runs her hand up Moka's bare thigh. Her hand slides to her ass and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Really hot."

[gffa]

People shouldn't be too hard on Mon!

I absolutely love and is grateful of Freed's understanding and appreciation of the Jedi, apparent in the book, apparent in the interview he'd given for the book:

"For me, the excitement of the time period here, is that I tend to think of 'Star Wars' as a setting with plenty of room for grey area stories and moral ambiguity, but there are very clear lines of good and evil as well. There's no version of 'Star Wars' in which you look at the Emperor and go, 'Well, maybe he had some good ideas.' No, the Emperor is evil. And the Jedi and Luke at their best are good. Everything else exists somewhere in there. This is a period where the remains true but no one really knows that the Emperor is evil.

"As far as the public is concerned, this guy just won the worst war in living memory. The Clone Wars were this horrendous affair and Palpatine has put an end to it. Yes, he's declared himself Emperor but he's not the embodiment of all evil. There's not even a Death Star out there. On the absolute good side, the Jedi have sort of been tarnished in recent years. War scrapes away at the shining morality of any organization."

I think Freed really understands what Lucas meant when he said "The Jedi have been corrupted by this war."

...but I still don't hold it against Mon cause she's going through hell and she spoilerspoilerspoilerspoiler in the later half of the book. I think she's fascinating, wonderful, equally valid character with equally valid viewpoints as Bail within context of their own worlds and experiences in this novel.

The editor of the book said it best:

Bail – knows the truth about Palpatine, the Empire, and the fall of the Jedi. Caught between his commitment to truth and justice at any cost, and the duty he has to the daughter he’s been entrusted to protect.

Mon Mothma – a master politician, who believes – like so many – that opposing Palpatine is part of the regular game of politics. She doesn’t yet realize, Palpatine stood up from the game board years ago, and she’s playing against shadows.

Mon and Bail are allies, but not really friends (at this time). Padme was their link, and now, she’s gone. Where does that leave them?

For Mon and Bail especially, the secrets Bail holds that he cannot reveal leaves a gulf between them. And what does it mean when they find themselves at odds with each other, over truths they cannot speak?

prev anon) I'm talking about their different mindsets and experiences and viewpoints born from those and I'm not excusing Mon's... *spoilers* anyway I hope you enjoy the rest of the book! It's so nice seeing an author like Freed, who usually writes non-force side of sw, handling the jedi with such warmth, understanding and awareness

This was such a reassuring message to get, thank you! I've been avoiding spoilers for the book as best I can, but I'm only a quarter of the way through it and I was wondering how the various themes were going to go, but Freed's interview quotes and your comments have made me glad that I'm picking up what this book is putting down, because that's exactly how I've been reading it. (And why I'm hoping to encourage more people to read it--though, I will give a warning that this book can be uncomfortably prescient about current events in a way that I wouldn't say Alexander Freed Is A Witch, but that can be very hard to read about if you're not in the headspace to deal with a lot of reflections of the dumpster fire we're currently in.) As for Mon, I hope nobody comes down on her for this, because as much as I scream, cry, throw up, etc., over Bail's scenes, in general I lean a bit more towards Mon's way of doing things, because I think her approach is her answer to the question, "But what can actually be truly achieved?" That she is looking at an incredibly shitty situation with only shitty options and asking herself what can she actually get done, what does she have a snowball's chance in hell of success with? And she knows clearing the Jedi's name at this point in time is not on the table, not when there are a million other things that might actually do tangible good for the galaxy. And I don't disagree with that! I love the Jedi more than anyone, but clearing their name isn't more important that, say, trying to stop the Wookiees from being classified as a non-sentient species! Clearing their name isn't important enough to blow all your political capital and having nothing to show for it when there are people who you can help, with a chance that will actually succeed! Bail's idealism isn't stupid, he's incredible and the galaxy needs a shining light like him, it's necessary for the bigger hope for the future, we can't make it through the dark times without bright, shining hope. So even when they don't always think positively of each other, I never get the sense that Bail and Mon don't understand that the other is doing what they think is best. They just disagree on what that is. And it makes sense! Bail knew and was friends with the Jedi! He knows the truth about Palpatine and how important all that Force shit is to what's going on here! Mon is operating with the idea that this is a political battle--and she's not entirely wrong, she's necessary to the recovery of the galaxy, too, just as Luke is necessary to save the day, so too is Leia, and I sort of see that reflected in Bail and Mon's approaches--one is focusing on the mystical and one is focusing on the political and I think both are important here. So, I have nothing but hearts for Mon Mothma and what she's trying to do for the galaxy.

And I don't see them as antagonists here, I see them as two people who look at each other with the understanding that there is deep love and compassion for people in the other, that they want this other person on their side not just for political alliances but because they care, and maybe they want to scream in frustration that the other person can't see what they see, but I don't feel for a second that this is going to end with them anything other than them as friends. Their scene in Rogue One implies she knows about Bail knowing a living Jedi, if not directly knowing about Obi-Wan Kenobi, which isn't something he would tell just anyone. I'm hoping for the same with Saw, there's going to be conflict about their approaches, and I love that that's clearly a theme/why these three characters were chosen as the pillars of this book, that each of them are shown to have their reasons why and that each of them serve a purpose. I scream/cry/throw up more about the Jedi because that's the most fun for me, but I am enthralled with Mon's chapters just as much, the political tightrope she's on, and I would encourage people to read for those aspects just as much as I would encourage them for crying about the Jedi. ANYWAY, EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS BOOK FOR YOURSELF, I'm having fun with the snippets I'm posting, but the book is so much more than those things! It's one of the best SW for rounding out the characters and filling in the transitions between the movies and TV shows, but in a way that keeps the tension and emotional gut-punches despite that we know where it's going. ALSO, MON MOTHMA AND BAIL ORGANA ARE THE BEST, I'M WILLING TO FIGHT THE INTERNET OVER THIS

[kuurechr]

Sukuna lets you drag him on a double date - one where he meets the infamous sorcerer killer.

"Why did we agree to this?" Sukuna grumbled to you, looking around in the fancy diner that the two of you had just stepped into. He fidgeted with the promise ring he'd bought for the two of you, as part of his apology when he asked you to take him back after you broke up with him.

"Because Mayumi wanted me to meet her boyfriend," you muttered back earnestly, walking up to the front table. "And you promised me you'd be nice."

"Well," Sukuna said back. "We have different definitions of nice."

Sukuna tapped his fingers on the table impatiently as he talked to the man up front. "We're under the reservation, Ryomen."

Before the man could search for the name, you shook your head and interrupted. "Apparently Mayumi's boyfriend decided to book a special table, or something – it would actually be under Zen'in."

Sukuna's brows furrowed. Not because he felt like this new guy was superior or anything – but because that was a surname that he knew well. Zen'in. What was his luck that your friends' boyfriend would be a sorcerer? A sorcerer that would definitely recognize his name, too.

"Right, of course," the man who found your reservation nodded. From the sudden shift in his expression, Sukuna could tell that this Zen'in paid a lot. From what Sukuna had figured for himself in this era, there were only three clans from the Heian era that still existed. They were well established during the Heian period, and they were rich and still pillars of the jujutsu community today. "Someone will be over in a second to take you."

The man stepped away to call someone and you looked back to give Sukuna a look. "How rich is this guy?" Sukuna rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You grinned at him, as coy as ever. "What? Are you jealous, Sukie?"

Sukuna glared at you, and you just giggled, unable to be intimidated. A waitress came over and asked you both to follow her. As she brought you to an elevator, you sent Sukuna a look, which he ignored, staring straight ahead. Once you reached a hallway, and heard loud laughter behind doors you passed by, you also sent him looks that he ignored.

Once the waitress finally reached the door to your private table, she moved to knock on the door, but you quickly whispered for her to stop. "It's fine! We're gonna surprise them! You can go."

She seemed slightly taken aback but nodded, letting you know to call if you needed anything and walking away. Once she was a few steps away, you pushed Sukuna to the side, away from the door. Sukuna let himself get pushed by you, but stood firm when he was sick of it – which was pretty quickly.

"What the hells' wrong with you, woman?" He whispered, harsh.

"What's wrong with you? Are you mad at me? 'Cause I said you were jealous?"

Sukuna sighed. "Obviously not." He was thinking about the fact that he was going to meet a Zenin, and he may not have caught your looks. He reached out a hand and squeezed your shoulder. "Of course not. This place is just... stuffy. I don't wanna be here already and then this guy pays for an even more obnoxious side of an already obnoxious place?"

"Good, get that stuff out on me, right now," you nodded, placing a hand over the hand that was on your shoulder. "So you don't shit on Mai's perfectly nice boyfriend."

"You've never met the guy either," Sukuna scoffed. "We don't know if he's perfectly nice. He might be a serial killer."

You sighed. "'Kuna–"

"No, no, hear me out," Sukuna insisted, sarcasm dripping from his words. "He might murder kids – you don't like people who kill kids, right?" Sukuna was a hypocrite. He's definitely killed kids.

"You're actually so stupid," you grumbled, backing up and going back to the door. "You're going to be good and I will treat you to the trashiest fast food in the world when we head back, yeah?"

Sukuna itched the back of his neck, and grumbled, but left it at that. It was always worth arguing with you, but nothing would come from arguing with you right outside the door of where your friend and the Zen'in waited. He could probably sense Sukuna's cursed energy at this rate.

You knocked on the door, and fairly quickly, it swung open. Mayumi threw her arms around you, and you reciprocated, hugging back tightly. "I haven't seen you in forever!" Mayumi whined.

"I know, right?" You giggled.

"Okay, head inside," Sukuna grumbled, wanting to get this over with. "You guys saw each like last week, and I'm hungry."

Mayumi chuckled and let you both come inside. There was a large table in the middle of the room, with a large television on one side, and a large couch on the opposite side. Everything inside was for people who lived large. "Dude," you whispered, looking around. "How rich is your boyfriend?"

Mayumi giggled and rolled her eyes. Sukuna crossed his burly arms, looking around. "Where is your boyfriend?" He eyed a door, one that probably led to the bathroom. He didn't sense any cursed energy.

"He's in the bathroom," Mayumi said, gesturing to the table. "But you guys take a seat!" You and Sukuna complied, sitting next to each other. She sat opposite to you, and glanced at the bathroom door warily before looking at you and Sukuna, lowering her voice. "Just a warning, my boyfriend is a little... antisocial, I guess."

"Really?" You raised a brow, surprised. You wondered how he was so rich – maybe it was family money. Sukuna was certain it was family money.

"He's gonna come off as rude... honestly, you might get the same impression I had when I met Ryomen –" She quickly turned to Sukuna. "No offense, dude."

"None taken," Sukuna shot back. "You're saying this guy is like me?" Mayumi nodded. "Is he bigger than me?"

You huffed, annoyed by him, but Mayumi just chuckled at your dynamic. "No, you're fine, Ryomen... but maybe don't show off too much, he's never met a man bigger than him, he might end up being sensitive," she joked, winking at him.

The bathroom door swung open and Mayumi quickly shot up, gesturing to you and Sukuna. "Guess who's here!"

The Zen'in rolled his eyes, closing the bathroom door behind him. "Finally."

"Toji," Mayumi said slowly, as a warning. Toji was a big man, you realized as you looked up at him. Sure you were sitting and he was standing, but he was still big. Of course, compared to your humongous boyfriend, he wasn't all that.

Despite being a big man, Mayumi clearly had an affect on him. He pressed his lips together and nodded at you and then to Sukuna. Sukuna nodded back, just as curtly. You gave your hand out. "It's nice to meet you Zen'in."

Toji grimaced at being called by his last name, as he sat down. "Never call me that."

"Oh..." You said, retracting your hand. Sukuna glared at Toji for making you feel small in any way, and was about to open his mouth to argue, but Mayumi spoke up for him quickly, sensing Sukuna's anger.

"Call him Toji," she said, sitting down next to him, and patting his shoulder. "His family isn't the... Well, they're not on the best terms."

"Really?" Sukuna asked raising his brows. "How could you afford all this then?"

You took a sharp intake of breath, sending daggers Sukuna's way. He ignored it, and stared at Toji, who smirked. "I told my dad I'd add some money to his credit card. Old man refuses to understand how anything new works, and I played it to my benefit."

Sukuna's brow twitched at the phrase 'old man.' "Right."

This man had no cursed energy.

"So, Toji," Mayumi gestured to you and Sukuna. "This is Y/N and her boyfriend, Ryomen."

Toji narrowed his eyes on Sukuna. "Feels like I've heard your name somewhere."

"I'm a tall guy," Sukuna shot back. "People tend to talk about me."

"Right," Toji nodded.

"Hey, you don't seem interested enough in that," Mayumi frowned, bumping Toji's shoulder. "Ryomen is a literal giant! How tall are you again?"

"7'2," you answered for him. "Truly a giant."

Toji let out a low whistle. "How do you do anything with that typa height?"

Sukuna simply shrugged, leaning back. "So, what's the plan on the food? Don't these rich places give out bird food?"

Mayumi scoffed. "Come on, Ryomen. Look at you beefcakes–" She squeezed Toji's arm and you laughed. "Even regular portioned food isn't enough."

"We ordered ahead," Toji said. "And its' a lot of meat."

Mayumi looked over at you, pointedly. "I figured we should order separately, though."

You giggled, nodding.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 150 (Inventing - or Reinventing? - Time Travel)

To research the possibilities of time travel, Felix Psyded, Esquire, and his girlfriend, Lilith Pleasant, had spent months at Laurel Library in Britechester. Emit's knowledge had proven helpful, but his device was too advanced for modern times and required materials yet to be discovered. They had a lot to learn, and often studied late into the evening.

These two - an attorney and a podcaster - knew next to nothing about programming or biometric sciences. But Lilith, especially, was determined to make a device to chase Emit's time thief, and Felix would stay by her side in any decade.

"I checked out a copy of A History of Time Travel like Ash suggested," she said eagerly. Felix quickly flipped her laptop to The Sims Archives, Volume 2, disguising the webpage he'd really been reading. "Are you enjoying the game? I didn't realize how much I missed playing it!"

He nodded absentmindedly, and Lilith noticed. She was about to raise the question when her twin sister, Angela, emerged from behind the bookshelves with a programming guide. "Geez, this stuff is difficult," she complained. "How are you planning to learn all this to make a time travel device?"

"Ash was taken with a faulty remote," explained Lilith. "He said we need to program it correctly or we might end up lost in time, but he's been a huge help on some things we just can't wrap our heads around."

"It's pretty crazy to let a nine-year-old help you build a device to jump through time. And how did he invent it already, because Emit's here, but not invent it yet at the same time?"

Lilith scowled at her twin. They'd been polar opposites since high school, and Lilith always felt a sense of moral superiority oozing from her earthy pastel pores. "Why are you even here, Angela? We didn't ask you for help."

"Excuse me for being interested!"

A librarian shushed them from somewhere beyond the tall rows of mahogany bookshelves, and Lilith leaned in to whisper. "You're not interested in the device, you're interested in Emit."

Angela caught herself before she let out a yowl, aghast at the suggestion. "A blue-haired time traveler? Please! Do I look desperate?"

Felix poked his head in gently, having built up a good relationship with Lilith's family. "No, but you look infatuated every time he's on TV. I don't blame you, really. He's polite, and he could well be handsome behind those sunglasses. He's mysterious; it's alluring!"

"Lil, if you're not careful, you're going to lose your boyfriend to Emit Relevart."

Lilith rolled her eyes and changed the subject as Angela huffed. "Ash thinks we need to look for something called a shard of time, which he first read about in Theoretical Electronics. He reads so fast, it's amazing! He says the shards are hard to spot, but if you look at something long enough, relax your mind, you'll see slight discoloration in an object. Once you see it, you can pick it up with your fingers. Ash said he found one on the toilet in his bathroom at home."

(This is Ash pondering time travel on the toilet for the quest points. I know it doesn't look like it but some of the event reward animations are sus or my game is broken. The actual books - Theoretical Electronics and A History of Time Travel - never appeared in Lilith's hands. That's why she's reading a violin skill book, which she picked herself when she was done reading the invisible books.)

"So you're going to go stare at toilets for a while?"

"Refrigerators, too," said Felix.

"This is so weird, you guys. Are you really serious about this?"

"After Felix is done work tomorrow, we're going back to Willow Creek to talk to Emit some more." Angela tried to stuff her hopeful expression and Lilith let out an exaggerated sigh. "Did you want to come with us?"

"Well...if you think I'd be helpful I'd be happy to-"

"Ange..." Lilith pursed her lips. She loved her sister, but she was always like this. "I said you could come and meet Emit. Don't act like it's a favour to me."

They made it to Willow Creek Park the next evening, where they found Emit still wandering the paths. He smiled and waved when he spotted the girls waiting for Felix near the public restroom. "Lilith Pleasant! I hoped you'd be back. Most of the gawkers have been unserious, and they don't come around as much now that the news cycle's moved on a little."

"We wouldn't know where to begin, but we've been getting help from someone...Does the name Ash Landgraab mean anything to you?"

After everything they'd learned about Ash's visit from the ghost of Marco, Lilith posed her question carefully. When Emit frowned, shaking his head, her shoulders dropped in relief. "Everyone's heard of the Landgraabs, but Ash Landgraab doesn't really ring a bell. Why?"

The sisters looked at each other. "When you're from, who invented time travel?"

Emit laughed as Felix joined them. "That's one of life's great mysteries! It's thought whoever invented it wanted - or needed - to be protected, so their identity was kept secret. When I was at the academy, there were rumours the inventor was a kid and that's why their name was never recorded, but some say people did know, and the inventor was well known once upon a time, but the truth was lost to history."

Felix chuckled. "Perhaps the truth was hidden by another time thief."

Lilith and Angela laughed with him, but Emit's face held a stern expression. "Time thieves aren't that funny. They could erase history as we know it if they try hard enough. Some days, my wristboard pings so often, each time they move to a new time, I can't possibly chase them alone. We're lucky the one we're dealing with is just dropping household furnishings all over the place. So far." He dropped his voice in an ominous tone. "But even that could break the strings holding time in place."

"Wow, you know so much!" Angela gushed at the blue-haired man, and he looked back to Lilith with a curious expression.

"Is this your clone?"

Lilith laughed, but Angela laughed louder. "This is my twin sister, Angela."

"It's nice to meet you, Angela."

They shared a sweet smile, and Lilith glanced knowingly at Felix. "We also wanted to ask you about shards of time," she said. "Where are the best places to look for them?"

Emit looked back to Lilith as though he'd forgotten she was there. "Shards? Oh shards! Sorry, our tech hasn't had to use shards for a long time. Shiny surfaces are best, but I suppose they could be anywhere, really, if you look long enough."

"That's what Ash said."

"This Ash sounds fascinating. I'd like to meet him, or his guardians, since you mentioned last time he's a child, didn't you? You're...you're not saying he's the one who invented time travel..."

"He hasn't yet," said Angela. "He's almost ten, but these two would probably be hopeless without him. He's the one who discovered the shards."

"A child Landgraab invents time travel? That is a headline!"

"His parents - at least his mother and his stepfather - don't want people hounding him the rest of his life."

"I don't blame them. It's important to protect children - even brilliant ones."

"Should you meet him some day, I think you'd be quite impressed by him," said Felix. "He's nothing like the rest of the Landgraabs."

Emit laughed. "What do you mean? The Landgraabs are incredible. They spent six billion simoleons to end global hunger and built the ship that stopped the asteroid. A Landgraab is president of Simlandia right now. Well, right where I came from."

Felix shared looks of surprise with Lilith and Angela. "Maybe Marco's stunt changed more than we thought," he mused.

Felix and Lilith paid attention to each other while Angela made small talk with Emit. But Emit seemed uninterested in her flirty advances, which he returned with friendly nods and turned glances.

Before they left him in the early hours of the morning, Felix gave him a burner phone so they could reach out if they had more questions. Emit took the untraceable phone willingly, glancing quickly at Angela before sending them home with polite goodbyes.

When they got back to the old three-story home they shared with Angela and her parents in Gibbs Hill, Lilith quickly went to bed. But Felix was mulling something over in his mind.

He tried reading, but his mind moved too fast to take in the paragraphs. When dawn finally broke and he left for work the next morning, he called his favourite grumpy police captain on the way.

"Hey. I know it's early, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes. I've got a problem I need to talk about..." ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

Last shot is of Felix is his work attire and not on the phone with Conrad because I liked it. He is not without swagger!

NOTE: If you've played through the event, you know the story is diverging a bit from the strict tasks since Emit isn't the sole source of information for Lilix here. Also, Angela had that instant attraction to Emit and I want to see if I can see that through. Even though Emit is being very professional-adjacent about it, he accepted some of her flirts, but not all, so I gave it a rest before he got mad. But once again, I'm making something much bigger than it is for the sake of plot.

[butterflydm]

Scattered WoT rewatch thoughts (1x01-1x04)

This includes spoilers for s3, because my rewatch is adding some context to my thoughts for season three and the spoilers we know so far and book spoilers through Lord of Chaos:

1x01

I do think it's likely that Egwene's Accepted Test is going to mirror the scene with Liandrin gentling the man from the cold open, but Rand being in a river ties it more to Egwene and the Two Rivers. Egwene has been very associated with water so far, from needing to trust the river in s1 to undergo the rite to officially become a woman, to a jug of water being the symbol of the battle of wills that she has with Renna in 2x06.

We have been watching Egwene's and Rand's paths diverge from each other from their very first scene together - the first time we see them kiss (and have implied fade-to-black sex) basically is a play from Rand to buy himself a little more time with Egwene before she breaks things off with him. Afterwards, she tells him that their futures aren't going to be aligned with each other. We even see her reject his symbolic romantic gesture of giving her a berry, which he used to give her when they were younger.

Rand will later say that Selene is the first woman to see him as a man and it does feel like his relationship with Egwene is very tied up to his boyhood.

So, s1 has an ep1 post-coital scene where Egwene's abilities separate her from the possibility of a future with Rand, so we may see this mirrored (if you'll pardon my choice of words) in 3x01.

First Finn foreshadowing for Mat: the tiny noose-like bits of thread on Fain's wagon.

The Rand & Egwene on a cliffside rock scene is another one that we know gets echoed in s3, with Lanfear taking Egwene's place and changing the narrative.

I really like that Nynaeve's feelings about the Two Rivers are grounded in her personal relationships (Rand has also been hearing a lot of things about the AS to make him wary, going by what Tam says about them).

Mat provides gambling, alcohol, and fostering emotional sharing in the relationship between the three boys. And we see them showing care and concern back to him.

I really do love how the show took the concept of Bel Tine and tied it into the world mythology of the Wheel and reincarnation. Very good philosophical setup for the future. Wheel keeps turning and we keep trying to do better than the last time.

We also see Nynaeve's loneliness in the Bel Tine scene, which is what Rand talked about when he was talking about what Egwene choosing to be a Wisdom would mean - no family of her own.

Overall, the show does such good job of showing how this mountain village has held onto the old ways without even realizing the depth of what those ways mean.

The battle is so well done. The fear and panic of the villagers at first, and how Moiraine helps them. I am also going to stand up and say that i think that having (and killing) Laila was a good choice! It shows us the cost of the Trolloc attack, it sets up Perrin's fear over his own battlerage, it sets up Perrin's overprotectiveness over his love interest without making wild overprotectiveness just a Two Rivers trait. And it really made all the show-only reactors that I watched sympathize with Perrin instantly. It was a solid change.

Rand undergoes the first of many "my parents weren't what I thought" when he sees how well Tam fights with a sword.

I love that we see our EF5's courage so strongly but in different ways.

Our first glimpse of weaves and of Aes Sedai working together with their Warders! And we see how effective they can be together. We're going to see the limitations of Warders in s3, I think, because they don't help much in a Power vs Power battle, but for most trouble that an Aes Sedai has been able to get into before now, they were very useful!

Also: Egwene is wearing a bracer on her left wrist here that is very much like the one she wears in s3 (and that does kinda echo the sul'dam bracer).

Rand mentions earlier that stories say a single Aes Sedai is said to be able to turn the tide of a battle and we get to see that here when Moiraine pulls down the Winespring Inn to hurl the stones at the Trollocs.

Poor in-denial Rand here, who does not want to believe what his dad confessed to him on their journey to the village.

Rand, Egwene, Moiraine, and Laila all in blue here, in the aftermath of the attack. Both Rand & Egwene cover up their blue shirts with brown sheepskin coats for their journey out of the Two Rivers. Mirrors!! Foils! Following parallel but separate paths, which is part of why they can't be together.

Rand knows that this about him but he can't admit it to himself. I love it when stories continue to add depth on a rewatch.

1x02

We saw the danger of the Shadow in the last episode, now we set up the danger of the Whitecloaks. Another scene that gains depth on rewatch, as show-onlys will later realize that the Whitecloaks are murdering a healer here, once they find out more about the Aes Sedai. They are zealots.

"Sometimes brutality is the only path to mercy." Yikes!

This episode also brings in the evil of Shadar Logoth, a more ancient example of purely human evil that is not driven by the Shadow or Darkfriends. The city that ate itself alive out of paranoia and self-isolation from the world. A cautionary tale for what the Two Rivers could have become.

We get first lessons in Aes Sedai Oaths here, both their limitations and the ways to find loopholes around them. We also see that Rand confronts Moiraine publicly while Egwene also confronts her, but privately (because Moiraine is also clearly more comfortable having private confabs with Egwene over any of the boys - she's no Red but still has a wariness about men could channel).

Is this Egwene and Mat's only conversation? (And they are quickly joined by all the others)

We see Mat trying to lighten the mood, while Rand begins to show hints of leadership, wanting them to form a plan in case Moiraine turns on one of them.

I like the change that the show made in the Three Oaths, giving them a solid origin based in history - and tying it to Hawkwing also ties it to the Seanchan. The White Tower chose to leash itself to specific rules, while the women in Seanchan were forcibly leashed by their government.

Moiraine must feel so hopeful when she realizes that Egwene can channel and so the world might get a Dragon who can't go mad from saidin.

Genuinely, it is so baffling to me how some people watching the show were calling Rand clingy and trying to hold onto a dead relationship when it's literally Egwene sending the mixed signals and trying to cuddle up to Rand here, the episode after she broke things off with him.

Rand and Moiraine's first fight! We're going to get more of this in s3 as well, I believe. Moiraine trying to direct and control them, while Rand wants to actually know the endgame and what her plans are.

Poor Mat & Perrin forced to witness the fight afterwards between Rand & Egwene.

Mat is so good at defusing emotional conflict. He is the one who gets Rand to level out after the disagreements with Moiraine & Egwene.

We are shown the division in the Whitecloaks here - the Questioners being the true zealots, with the regular Children being willing to bend on matters of Aes Sedai.

Rand is gonna glare a hole in Moiraine's back.

The ruined bridge! Love all the old ruins in the Two Rivers area.

Mat again shows his emotional intelligence by starting the sing-along to boost spirits among the group. And we get a little history lesson. Fingers crossed for Mat singing again in s3!

Also: this scene made me cry during this rewatch.

We're briefly told here that they've been traveling for days, before the night when they go into Shadar Logoth.

Rand and Egwene work through a bit and come to better terms over the course of this episode but their main conflict of being on fundamentally different paths is not resolved. I'm guessing this will get echoed in s3 but they will actually fully accept and come to terms with their separate paths.

Perrin's first wolf encounter! ❤️

Once again, we see Mat reaching out to one of his friends to help them process - Perrin in this case, offering him a dagger that Laila had made for Mat and returning it to Perrin. I hope we get to see some of that in s3 with his friends in ep1. Mat is so sweet to his friends.

S1 - Rand goes to a dead city with Moiraine & Egwene; s3 - Rand goes to a dead city with Moiraine & Aviendha (based on the trailers).

Mat getting drawn to the dagger. Man, that is gonna fuck him up. My poor sad wet cat.

Our first plot-mandated split up - I do understand why we don't get a second Cauthor road trip since they did get all this time and focus together in s1, but I am definitely hoping that the change means we'll get them together again later on the series, hopefully spending time with each other in s4 (if we get it, etc). And I hope for a couple of good scenes before they part ways in s3.

1x03

We learn more about Nynaeve's grit and cleverness in the opener, as well as revealing that Trollocs will cannibalize their injured companions.

Nynaeve is such a badass here. 💖

I love this credits sequence so much. I understand wanting to spend every moment of the episode runtime but it's just so lovely.

Lan being impressed by Nynaeve tracking them. 💖

The Great Cauthor Roadtrip has begun!

"They say all roads lead there." "That's not how roads work." I love them so much.

Perrin & Egwene's roadtrip also begins. I do quite enjoy their scenes together even if I'm not getting the shippy buzz from them. But Perrin & Egwene both trying to light the same fire and not being certain who did it in the end... I hope we get a continued connection between them in the future (iykyk).

This episode is where we can clearly see Nynaeve's healer yellow under her warrior green. Perfect, no notes. All the scenes between Lan & Nynaeve in this episode are pure gold.

We can also see more clearly how Lan has a fancy pattern on the shoulders of his outfit.

Ishamael trying to suss out which of the ta'veren is the Dragon via dreams. Perrin dreams of Ishy here but Egwene doesn't seem to. The wolves herding them to safety in the scariest way possible lol I love them. They are probably trying to talk to Perrin but he can't see their visions yet.

Our first glimpse of an Aiel (dead in a cage). It really sets the tone for the town as a whole.

Hello, Thom! And Dana has her eye on the boys from the beginning. I do love Thom's song here and, of course, what it implies about Thom's sympathies towards men who can channel. I'm hoping for at least one good convo about Rand between Mat & Thom in s3.

Mat's keen emotional intelligence in display in previous episodes gets turned like a knife against Rand in this one and it hurts a lot.

"Someplace new, you can be anything you want. And no one's gonna know the dirt you were born in." We'll see Mat indulging in this idea a bit at the start of s3, I think.

Our first hints of Perrin's overprotectiveness post-Laila's death, and Egwene pushing back and offering compassion that Perrin doesn't feel like he deserves, and refusing to let him risk himself for her sake - they go together.

I think we got Aram confirmed for s3, so looking forward to his reunion with Perrin and how they might interact.

Egwene getting covered with the shawl of many colors.

Dana is such a good compilation of "every darkfriend on the road" that Mat & Rand encounter on the road.

Lol at Rand being so snippy over Mat when we know he actually thinks extremely highly of Mat. He's just mad at him right now because Mat is being an asshole for what seems to be no reason.

Our first hint that Siuan and Moiraine got a relationship upgrade comes when Moiraine whispers a pained "Siuan" when she's really out of it. Also they did a great job of making Moiraine look on the edge of death.

We get to see more of Thom's compassion when Mat encounters him at the dead Aiel's cage. Love our little lesson about Aiel here - and our first open hint about Rand's heritage, as Thom tells us red hair is rare outside the Aiel Waste.

"If you're going to take from the dead, the least you can do is bury them."

First mention of the Stone of Tear and the Lion Throne of Caemlyn.

Dana going for the kiss - start of a pattern there, the Shadow trying (and succeeding in s2) to deceive their way into Rand's bed. And she genuinely likes Rand too, but is still willing to betray him.

Our first hint of Rand using the Power, when he breaks the reinforced door.

I really like that they used Dana to give us Ishamael's philosophy. Break the Wheel to stop the pain of the world. I like that Mat encounters this again with Ishy at the end of s2 and we see him reject it.

Okay, Thom never openly tells either of the boys that he thinks they're the Dragon but he overhears their conversation with Dana and also assumes right away that it's the madness troubling Mat in the next episode.

Hi, Logain! I like how both Nynaeve and Logain are used to create doubt in Moiraine's mind over the accuracy of the prophecies.

1x04

Logain does a good job showing us all the scary foreshadowing for what the Dragon will be capable of. What Logain does to one country, Rand is supposed to do to the world, essentially. We see both the power and the madness here.

"What does a crown mean to the Dragon Reborn?"

Logain knows and believes in the prophecies and believes that he is truly the Dragon, with the voices in his head urging him on.

We do see Logain fighting and winning against the corruption here, healing the king instead of killing him.

I love what they've done with Logain so far in the story. I don't think we've seen any spoilers about him in s3 yet but I would not be surprised to see him.

We get to learn a lot about Aes Sedai in this episode, with Nynaeve as our main vehicle for learning the lore, which is great because of her prickly relationship with Moiraine.

The war party to capture Logain is comprised of Green & Red sisters and this is an authorized operation that we can directly compare to the unauthorized operation that Liandrin and her fellow Reds carried out in ep1. Logain is captured and shielded, not gentled on the spot. Then he is meant to be taken back to the White Tower for trial - I'm guessing this is actually meant to determine if he's the real Dragon Reborn. False Dragons get gentled and the true Dragon stays shielded until the Last Battle, to keep him from using the Power and going mad from the corruption.

Liandrin is so snippy and petty with Moiraine. I kinda do feel like she tried a flirtation with Moiraine in the past and got shot down.

I really love how the show gave the Warders their own subculture and community. We did not get enough of that in the books at all. A+ improvement.

We find out here how secretive Moiraine & Lan are around other Aes Sedai & Warders. We also learn that Liandrin is pushing against the Amyrlin's decrees and that there are rumors spreading about the unsanctioned gentlings.

Aram is lovely and charming. The show also did a really good job making the Tuatha'an endearing.

Rand and Mat bonding over their mutual paranoia towards the rest of the world: oh dear.

"I always knew women couldn't see men's weaves..." setting out right here that there is a distinction between the two Powers.

I like Alanna & Moiraine's friendship. And Alanna does a good job setting out the Green Ajah mission statement - the Battle Ajah, to prepare for the Last Battle.

Alanna worrying that the current Tower policy about the Dragon is too aggressive and might lead to the Tower gentling the Dragon Reborn and dooming the world.

Liandrin starts her work on trying to get to Nynaeve. Not sure if she already knows anything about the Two Rivers ta'veren or if she's just looking to subverting someone traveling with Moiraine.

Rand taking charge of the situation to de-escalate, while Mat continues to slip.

Lol at Liandrin being the one to tell us the Blues are ~just spies~ and then to give us the official line on the Red Ajah philosophy - the magic cops, basically.

Liandrin also makes it clear here that men are not welcome under the Red Ajah's tent.

Tying the Way of the Leaf into the reincarnation cycle of the Wheel makes so much sense and rally solidifies it and grounds it into the world.

Rand starts to worry that something is really wrong with Mat here. The little girl offering Mat the Birgitte doll is so sweet.

Rand trying to rationalize what's happening with Mat, and Thom tries to gently led him to the idea that Mat can channel. Very good conversation, because Rand is torn between not wanting to believe it of himself but part of him knowing that it's him, and his worries over Mat. Rand hears about the consequences of being gentled here, and then sees both gentling and mental illness up close in s2.

"Nothing is more dangerous than a man who knows the past." Appropriate for both Rand & Mat!

Having Nynaeve hang out with the Warders so that we can learn more about them is so good.

And our first poly relationship hints!

I like that we get to see Moiriane doubting herself and her path, questioning the prophecies. And Lan reassuring her that they're on the correct path, reminding her of the dreams and the Trollocs, that Logain doesn't fit what they know about how old the Dragon should be.

This story that Ila tells is going to echo in s3 as well, as we see the Aiel come up against this choice and the split between them happens as some of them pick up a spear while the others do not, choose to stay true to their original culture instead.

"Have you lost him?" "No. No, I would know if I had." Egwene still thinking about Rand, as Rand was thinking about her last episode.

Rand waking up and making that promise to Mat. Awww. "No matter what happens, I'm here."

The show really has set out such a strong foundation for Mat & Rand's friendship, so while them not being together in s3 isn't my favorite adaptation choices (though I do think I will probably love Mat in Tanchico) they do have a very solid foundation of relationship work already put into them.

We got Perrin's Ishy dream, now we get Rand. Perrin is hammering away (at Laila's body?), Mat is wandering around with a bloody red hand, and Egwene is yoinked away by Ishy. And Rand wakes up from that into a waking nightmare of seeing Mat surrounded by a murdered family and then leaving Thom behind to save Mat & himself. Genuinely, not having a good day.

Thom was already ride-or-die (or believe them to have murdered a family under the influence of the corruption but still be willing to help) for the boys here.

I imagine the pitch Liandrin is giving Kerene here is the same slippery slope that the Reds went down originally - these men are too dangerous for us to risk carting them all the way back to the Tower.

Nynaeve and Lan bonding over lost family. Very sweet moment. Cried a bit here too.

I do think this fight is serving as big foreshadowing for Dumai's Wells. The Dragon captured by the Tower, his forces rallying to free him, him breaking out to join the fight. We'll just be on the other side of the battle that time, as Perrin (and hopefully Mat, in this version, fingers crossed, come on, let him actually be Rand's general for more than ten seconds!) fight to free him from the Tower embassy, while Rand fights to escape.

In addition to Kerene's death, we see a Red sister shot up with arrows too, though maybe she lives.

Nynaeve's AoE heal that probably made Moiraine less inclined to believe that Egwene could be the Dragon, because of how strong Nynaeve is.

[semisslave]

♡ Give me your sound, making your song going loud... ♡ (pt. 2)

Contents: WLW, Guitarist!Se-mi x Singer!R

Warnings: none!

Part 1

After you woke up, you showered really fast. You put on a pink crop top, a short black skirt, pink boots, a black hat, pink sunglasses and a pink with black bag. You put on some makeup and stylize your hair. You were really nervous because of today's results (and seeing Se-mi again). You grabbed your phone and saw a message in your band's group chat

"Mi-na will pick everyone up at 12 pm."

You applied some perfume and waited for them to come. They picked you up and went to the same place as yesterday to announce the winner.

All the bands stood on stage, nervous. The announcer started naming the bands from least voted to most voted. He ended naming the other places and stopped in the two last places, the finalist, Lost kisses, and The Roselights. He said that they would continue after a break.

You go to the backstage with all the other bands, some of them were leaving disappointed and some others wished you luck. You just sat on a chair and started scrolling nervously through your phone, trying to distract yourself.

Se-mi walked towards you and sat beside you.

"We're both finalists now... I'm glad I have a decent rival"

Rival? Is that what you were to her after what happened yesterday?

"Yeah... Good luck, Se-mi." You said smiling

"I like your smile, I guess that'll be the only good thing about you winning."

You smiled and blushed. How could she be so mean and sweet at the same time?

"You smell nice. What perfume is it?"

"It's a mist... Strawberry pound cake from Bath & Body works."

"Sounds like something that could give me diabetes... But it suits you." She said jokingly.

"Thanks...?"

"Well... good luck, pretty girl" She said before she walked towards her band mates.

"What was that?!" Asked Ji-hye, one of your band mates.

"We were just talking..."

"I hate that bitch, she's always so mean to everyone... She didn't tell you anything bad, did she?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Good, we'll have to be on stage in 5 minutes and prepare to receive our answer... Let's just hope we win... I'll see you there."

Now, you were standing on the stage, nervous, waiting for the answer that could change your whole life

"Thank you to every voter who participated in choosing our next big band! We'll finally tell you who the majority chose... The winner of this competition is..."

You grabbed the hand of your band mate, Mi-na, trying to remain calm. Se-mi seemed very calmed even tho this could change her life too. She even winked at you when the countdown started on the screen.

3

2

1

"Congratulations to The Roselights for winning and becoming Sony Music's next artists!"

You hugged with your band mates, crying, and not believing what was happening right now.

Se-mi just stared codly but gave you a small smirk before leaving the stage with her band.

You felt kinda bad now.

You and your band went backstage after celebrating. You found Se-mi alone again sitting on a chair.

"Congratulations..." She said to all your band. They just ignored her but you didn't.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry..."

"Why would you be sorry?" She said lifting you chin for you to look at her. "Your band was great too, you deserve it."

You smiled and thanked her.

"I need to rest after all this stress, but we should hang out some day."

"That'll be great... Rest well, see you anytime soon."

Se-mi smiled and kissed your hand as a goodbye. Then, she left, leaving you blushed and confused.

"She really is an opportunist" Said your band mate Hye-ju

"What do you mean?" You asked confused.

"I mean... We won and now we're signing with Sony Music, and suddenly she decides to be kind to us after all this time being rude. She's using us, using you to secure a place in this industry... She'll become your friend and then probably will try to ride on your fame after we debut."

"I never thought it that way..." You said thinking about it, it could be right or it could be wrong, but it hurted you.

"You're way too innocent when it comes to seeing through people, ___." Said Hye-ju after grabbing her things. "Are you coming to drink with us to celebrate?"

"No, I'll pass this time. I'm really tired."

"Well, next time it'll be... You must be really tired because you never reject a drinking invitation" She says chuckling as your band mates got into the car.

"I... I am"

You went back to your house thinking about what happened and what Hye-ju said about Se-mi... Was that true? You knew people had sex without giving it a meaning or developing feelings, but the way she took care of you after it was what made you feel butterflies. How she cleaned you up being extremely delicate, how she kissed your forehead after cleaning you up, how she brought you home making sure you arrived safe and sound and how she called you pretty every chance she had... Fuck, you were in love.

Many weeks passed after your band signed with Sony Music and now was working in their debut album under Sony Music.

Your "friendship" with Se-mi got stronger, even tho you still had some doubts on her intentions, you couldn't say no every time she asked you to go to the mall, to a restaurant or to fuck to relieve stress.

This time you were leaving her apartment that she shared with her band mates. She went with you to the elevator and said goodbye to you outside the building. You were walking until you noticed Se-mi's favorite headphones in your bag. You started doubting if you should return it to her now or just wait until the next time you see her. You decided to go back since they were her favorite ones.

You arrived to her apartment door but just when you were about to knock you heard something, something you wish you didn't hear...

I know this is bad, don't remind me 😭🙏

Listen to Cotton Candy by Loossemble btw, that's where the title came from (Promoting my girls)

Promise I'll drop a part 3 soon

[kestrel-of-herran]

long severance post ahead but it's worth reading bc i think i'm actually onto something.

you guys remember the lexington letter?

there might be actual clues about what lumon is doing is there. if peggy's innie finished refining something, then lumon staged a car accident ("exploding probes"), perhaps the finished room for that file could now be tested on one of the people in the car accident, the accident being a cover for lumon to kidnap them same as they did for gemma. since this connection between refining and a car accident is made in an official companion text, there has to be something actually important about it.

petey also said something along the lines of, what if you spend all day there killing people?

maybe sometimes mdr refines rooms for subjects who are already caught and experimented on, and others preparing more rooms for people they have their eye on and are just waiting to kidnap.

but why car accidents? besides removing the person from the lives of their friends and family seemingly permanently so no one tries to get them out, it instills deep trauma in the test subjects, allowing lumon to keep refining the chip's effectiveness in blocking extreme negative emotion.

it's possible lumon already knew who they wanted to put in lexington and how they'd stage the car accident, and the refining was a process to get that experience perfected.

oh actually. i had another epiphany now.

why is peggy the narrator of the lexington letter?

the most significant thing we know about her is that she was in a car accident. is it possible that the rooms she was refining were based on her own trauma, e.g. the numbers on the screen represent her own memories of the car accident and how she feels about them intuitively, which intuition she has bc these are her own feelings supressed by the chip. she sorts the feelings in boxes to remove feeling from the memory, wiping the trauma -- but maybe what's valuable to lumon isn't the cleaned file, it's the dust bin numbers.

maybe they're using the data stored there to determine which memories were most traumatic or evoked strongest emotion so they can supress them. if i remember correctly, the kier posters on walls say that you need to clean your body from tempers -- does that mean all emotions? is eradicating, refining, cleaning the human condition of tempers the purpose of the cult?

remember, the numbers in the files have already been sorted (mentioned in the first eps), to the extent that the programme can detect when something is sorted incorrectly (this is also in the lexington letter). which might indeed mean that we're talking about memories of the refiner that have been derived from their own chip.

so mark is refining gemma's rooms bc they have similar trauma. they have similar life experiences and lumon can use his intuitive responses to his memories to create negative experiences for her.

but everyone at lumon would be refining their own "files" -- the unique disk set up on their computer when they started out, like it was for helly -- bc these are their own memories that they're sorting the emotions out of so lumon can use those to perfect the endurance of the chip to suppress intense emotion in their test subjects belowstairs. maybe the files "expire" bc the memory becomes dimmer with time.

maybe lumon generally seeks out people with trauma so they can access their memories and use their own ability to sense out the emotions the chip is suppressing in the visual representation of their memories for the creation of more traumatic experiences to test on subjects they hijack through accidents until they can eradicate all emotion?

[fou4summer]

New Student

yoo jaeyi × fem!reader

Synopsis: First day in your new school. You just wanted to blend in and get through the year unnoticed. But Yoo Jaeyi, the school's top student with an icy reputation, seems to have other plans.

Warnings: drugs, bullying, i don't think there is any beside those.

Genre: Fluff

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You were determined to keep a low profile at your new school. The last thing you wanted was to attract too much attention. As a new student, your focus was getting through the day without any drama, and just getting used to your new environment and classmates. They were actually pretty decent, not everyone of course. On that day you went in the uniform of the previous school cause you didn't know where to get the new one. Guess they found it too funny. Especially one girl, Na-ri. Or atleast you think that was her name. She was getting on your nerves, cause after you got the uniform from some random seller online she ruined it by pouring a drink on it "by accident". You went to the bathroom to wash off the red stain on your uniform and you bumped into the person you never wanted to talk to, Yoo Jaeyi.

She seemed like a problem. It was obvious she was rich and spoiled. But you didn't know why she asked you to sit with her on your first day or why she helped you escape the principal the other day. She was suspicious and you just wanted to avoid talking or even being near her. After bumping into her she apologized, bowing slightly towards you. You looked at her confused but you said that its fine and walked past her. She turned around to look at you while smiling.

-

You were now cleaning the ruined uniform when someone hugged you from behind. "You fit perfectly in my arms." The person behind you in a calm voice. You knew who it was so you jerked away. As you turned around, Yoo Jaeyi was standing there eyes wide cause you pushed her away. She was holding a white shirt that goes under the dark green uniform. "So...we're about the same size. I always keep a few extra shirts in my locker in case I get them dirty, which I can't stand." She chuckles in the end before handing you the shirt

"Thank you, but I don't need it." You said continuing to wash your clothes in the sink. Yoo Jaeyi went quiet for a bit, and then she sighed. "You can't wear wet and dirty clothes, come on wear thi-" She was cut off by you turning around and throwing the shirt she gave you. "Listen Jaeyi, I'm not like you. Not rich, and not gonna wear those. Even if my clothes are ruined I will still wear them. Do you not understand when I tell you that I don't need it, why do you keep insisting? Not everyone appreciates your kindness." You raised your voice at her as she remained quiet but shocked by your sudden change. Then her face went to her cold state again as she looked directly at you.

"Alright. Do as you wish." Jaeyi looked away from you walking towards the exit. At the same time she threw the shirt away. The moment she walked away you felt bad. Really bad. Cause she was the only person who actually talked to you normally without teasings and laughs about your uniform, or your past. You let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding before getting dressed. As you stepped into the classroom everyone's eyes were on you and your see through shirt. You sat in your seat before opening the book.

-

"I think I feel bed for Y/N, Na-ri went too far." Choi said while walking home with Jaeyi and Yeri. They were all super rich but they never found bullying interesting like other classmates. "Wait Na-ri did that to her?" Jaeyi shot back with a serious tone. Yeri chuckled looking over at Choi who just nodded. "Did you guys know she's on drugs?" She then added while fixing her makeup. Choi looked over before looking back at the other girl. "Who in our class isn't, come on." Jaeyi stated before calling her dad. Not so long after three girls parted their ways.

Over the next few days you felt like someone was always watching you, but whenever you turned around there was no one. Actually what you didn't know it was always the same person, Yoo Jaeyi. She followed you everywhere. One day she was with one of the classmates having dinner. She told her that Na-ri had bought drugs from her and she can use it against her, so she did. When Na-ri was just minding her business in the girls toilet someone pulled her hair. She yelled but she instantly apologized when she saw who it was. Jaeyi smirked before zooming in the camera. "Do you want the whole school to know our Na-ri is on drugs, hm?" She told her while laughing. The other girl got on her knees and begged her to delete the video. "Na-ri! Who told you to touch what's mine?" Jaeyi whispered after ending the recording on her phone.

Next couple of days Na-ri didn't come to school and everyone got confused until our homeroom teacher told us she transferred schools. You were smart but you would never guess that Yoo Jaeyi did it. I mean why would she? She probably transfered cause of family problems or something like that. Until you got told what actually happened. Choi never really talked to you unless it was something about school meetings or studies but now she was telling you why the girl actually moved to another school. "It was Jaeyi, she made her do it." She told you while scrolling through her gallery to find the video she got sent. After handing you the phone you were terrified. Why would she be so obsessed with you? What are you to her to do somrthing like this for you?

"I gotta go, I'll see you tommorow. Thank you for telling me the thruth." She looked at you confused but waved a goodbye, then you ran home. This can't distract you from studying. So you took the pills you stole and swallowed them with a glass of water. You studied the whole day, until you actually felt hungry. You didn't feel like making something, so you went to the closest convenience store. On your way there you were thinking about everything and how it was draining you slowly. You were just sitting at the bench, lost in your thoughts. You didn't even feel the rain start, but someone else did. That someone was now standing in front of you with an umbrella. When you looked up you saw her.

"Jaeyi..." She smiled before helping you get up. You were just staring at each other until she finally spoke. "You will get sick like this, how about you come over so I can give you some dry clothes." She was speaking just above her average tone because of the hard rain. "No I'm fine, my house is not far away." You lied, and she knew that. "It is far awa- I meant my house is closer, yeah." She cleared her throat and you wondered how does she know you lied about it? In the end you were too tired to argue and you remebered that you have to confront her about Na-ri so you went with her.

-

Her house was huge, like a mansion. When you entered her room her dog barked, making you flinch. She laughed and started playing with him. You calmed down and ran your fingers through his white fur. Her room was also huge and she had skateboards on her wall. Didn't know she was into that, you thought. After her dog got tired of playing you guys sat on her bed. "Why were you alone there...?" She asked looking into your eyes. Your thoughts came back, thinking about everything at once. She placed her hand over yours and you quickly pulled away. She came closer and took both of your hands in hers. "I'm sorry Y/N. I know you are mad at me about Na-ri, but I did it because she bullied you. Isn't that nice? Shouldn't you thank me?" She now caressed your hair, and worst of all you didn't mind it.

"I don't care what you do, just don't pull me into your shit." You sighed before standing up, getting ready to go home. You were getting too comfortable with her. You had to leave before she notices your red cheeks. "Y/N, your phone is dead and it's late. Why don't you spend the night and you can go in the morning?" She asked holding your wrist. You turned around looking down at her. Maybe here you can figure out why was she so obsessed with you. So you stayed. But it didn't really go like you planned...

Cause now you were in her bathtub waiting for her. Then she came in with a black bathrobe. She took it off staring at you and you covered your eyes. She chuckled before stepping in the bath. You stared at each other for a few seconds which felt like hours but then she came closer. "Y/N why are you flustered?" She asked you before placing her hand on your cheek. You could just shake your head as a no but she didn't take that as an answer. "Have you ever tried this?" She asked and you looked at her confused. "Tried w-what?" Your heart was beating so loud that you bet she hears it. "This..." She brushed her finger against your lips before leaning in, inches away from your lips. "And this..." She looked you in the eyes for the last time for any signs of discomfort. But there wasn't any. So she closed the distance inbetween. The kiss was slow and sweet, but Jaeyi turned it into a messy make out. She was kissing your neck and leaving marks after sucking the spot for too long. It felt too good, and you never wanted to stop. When her hands went down your chest and stomach tou grabbed her wrist. "Jaeyi...let's go to bed..." You mumbled against her ear. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you, but you couldn't let yourself have your first time, when you didn't even know her too well. She nodded not arguing but you could see on her face that she wanted to continue.

After getting dressed you two went to bed. You were staring at each other, your faces close. "I want to love you and not just watch you from afar..." She whispered before kissing your lips again. You were shocked by the sudden words but you kissed her back. The kiss didn't last long cause you were both tired. Eventually you both fell asleep but you couldn't stop thinking about what she said. Your plan did fail but maybe, just maybe this was way better. You in her arms knowing that she will protect you from anyone who doesn't like you.

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A/N: Hey guys! This is my first ever post on here, so if anything is bad or I should fix something please let me know:) Also you guys can request me who do you want me to write for next from Friendly Rivalry or maybe other kdramas.

-

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 87: Alexander's Reason

Previous > Masterlist tw: mind control, hypnotic induction

October 1925

"Excuse me, are you Oliver Pines?"

Oliver looked up at the nurse, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile. He knew that he must be puffy-eyed from crying. Hopefully she would assume it was due to the pain. "Yes, that's me."

"I wanted to speak with you. Quietly, if you don't mind." There was no real privacy in the ward, but she sat on the edge of the bed close to Oliver's face. Her fingers reached down to turn his head gently, and brushed against the scars on his neck.

She knew.

Terror and guilt flooded him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize --"

"Shhh, keep your voice down. I'm not going to hurt you."

He thought he deserved it if she did, but did his best to quiet himself anyway, stifling his sobs like he was a boy again.

"You're one of theirs, aren't you? You belong to a vampire," she said in a hushed tone.

Oliver nodded.

"I thought so. I saw the puncture wounds noted in your file, and after what happened last night… did you hear?"

"I heard enough."

"Was that your master? The one who was in the hospital last night?"

"No, but… yes, in a way. He was here for me. It's my fault."

The nurse looked sympathetic. "I don't think anything those bastards did is your fault."

"How do you know about them? The vampires?"

"You're not the first patient we've seen with bite marks on the neck, and this isn't the first time those bastards have visited us, either. Not all the nurses believe, and the doctors won't listen to us, but I used to work the night shift. The night nurses know."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"I can call in the vampire hunters' guild. They'd probably be willing to station someone in the area tonight."

"No!" said Oliver, surprising the nurse. "The vampire hunters can't help."

"Sure they can. They're experts at --"

"No, they can't help me," Oliver insisted. "Not against this vampire. I was already with a hunter, and I think she might be -- gone. I don't think there's a hunter who can stand against him."

The nurse sucked in a breath. "You've gotten yourself in some real trouble, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry. If you gave me back to my master, I think --"

"We're not going to do that. You need care and rest. We're not just going to hand over one of our patients to a bloodsucker." She patted Oliver's shoulder. "I'll contact the guild and let them be the judge of whether or not they can handle it. With any luck, you'll be free, and there'll be one less monster in the world."

Oliver could tell he wasn't likely to dissuade her, but at the very least he could let the hunters know what they would be up against. "If you do talk to the guild, please tell them that it's the Maestro."

"The Maestro?"

"Yes, make sure you tell them that."

"All right. I will. You just focus on healing up, okay? Do you need any more medicine for the pain?"

"Yes, please," he said miserably. The medication would put him to sleep, and it would be better for him to sleep now than during the night, when he might need his wits about him. As the nurse left, he hoped that no hunter would be foolish enough to come, that they'd hear the Maestro's name and know to stay away. He didn't want another hunter dead or ensorcelled on his account.

He thought of Vivian. He wasn't sure if it was better if she were alive or dead. If the Maestro had found her, it might be more merciful if he decided a hunter was too much trouble to keep as a thrall.

Oliver, seemingly, would never be too much trouble.

---

Thanks mostly to some strong medication, Oliver spent the entire afternoon in and out of sleep that did not bring him rest, only truly waking to eat the bland meals he was given and answer a doctor's perfunctory questions. But as the sunlight through the windows turned golden and then red, his anxiety began to rise to a fever pitch.

He dearly hoped the Maestro would not visit him a second time. At some point, one of the nurses had picked up the rose from the floor and put it in a cup on his bedside table. Oliver didn't know how to explain how it was so hateful to him, so he was reminded of his terror every time he happened to glance to the right.

If any vampire were to come, he hoped it would be Alexander. He knew he should hate Alexander for putting him in this position, stalked by a sociopathic monster who thought nothing of casually killing an innocent woman. But another, treacherous part of him just wanted to go back. Back to a fogged and hazy mind, back to dulled pain and fear, back to a comfortable seat by the fire in the library where he could feel safe even though he wasn't. Despite having nothing to do for the past several days and nights but rest in bed, he was completely spent.

He thought of how gentle Alexander's voice and hands were as he lulled Oliver into a trance, how it felt for the vampire to wrap around him when it was time to sleep. If he were truly trapped, if he couldn't escape, at least he would have a warm and comfortable home to go back to. At least Alexander would treat him kindly. He was in need of a kind word and a gentle touch.

And then, there was the truth that ran just below the surface of his thoughts, the one that he'd been struggling with ever since Vivian had undone his enthrallment, the one that filled him with embarrassment.

Because the real truth, deep down in his heart, was that he had enjoyed being Alexander's thrall.

Of course he knew it was probably still the remnants of the spell at work. The effects of hypnosis that strong couldn't be easily undone. Knowing that his feelings may be artificial didn't stop them from consuming him, though.

Even back in the bookshop, one of his greatest joys was to help patrons with their requests, to feel useful. He had always loved being helpful. Alexander had made him feel like that all of the time, looking at Oliver as though he were something precious. He may have been treated like a plaything, but at least he'd been a wanted, cherished plaything. And most humiliating of all was how he'd been so quietly pleased when he was praised for being a good thrall, as if it were his life's calling, just like Lily had told him.

Oliver burned with shame to think of it. He'd insisted to Vivian that he wouldn't be one of those rescued thralls who went running back to the arms of a vampire, and even then he suspected he was lying to himself. Honestly, he'd looked forward to helping out Alexander a bit too much even when he was merely one of the bookshop's patrons, eager to assist a fellow book-lover. And now that he knew how lonely Alexander was, and how much he appreciated Oliver's company…

But no, he still couldn't trust Alexander, no matter how much he secretly wished he could. Alexander may not glory in torments the way his sire did, but he was still keeping Oliver a captive. And even though Alexander seemed to be a captive and victim of his sire, he had still enlisted his sire's help in finding Oliver. Otherwise, how else would the Maestro know to infect his mind with those specific nightmares at that specific time?

It seemed unlike him to willingly involve his sire in a situation that might see them both harshly punished. Perhaps there was an explanation, although Oliver doubted he'd get to hear it before he was ensnared once more. He hoped, at least, that Alexander wouldn't harm any hunters that might be near the library, and that he hadn't killed Vivian.

If only things could be different between them. If only he would listen to reason, and let Oliver keep his wits, and somehow free them both of the scourge of his sire. If only Oliver could simply enjoy the fond closeness and the vast library in peace, and perhaps see his bookshop again one day. If he could have those assurances, then he could be content to return to Alexander, regardless of how shameful a hunter like Vivian might find his condition.

The pain was beginning to return to his leg, the strong medication wearing off, when he first heard the strains of song. The sun had been fully down for half an hour, and Oliver's mounting dread gave way to a surprising relief as he heard the voice.

It was Alexander's song, of course, rich and enticing. He was being ensnared once more, but at least there might not be any more pain that night.

The melody grew in strength, and drowsiness stole over Oliver, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy and droop. He heard a symphony of yawns from around the ward as the other patients began to fall to the spell. Alexander was putting them all to sleep so that he could enter freely, no doubt, which would be a mercy to them -- a deep sleep free of pain. Oliver had no real desire to fight it, allowing his eyes to shut and his mind to drift off peacefully.

"You may slowly come awake, Oliver, but continue to feel no pain."

Oliver's eyes fluttered open. He was sitting partially upright, and Alexander was clutching him tightly, holding him as though he were a precious treasure to protect. The familiar scent of his soap surrounded Oliver as the vampire buried his face into Oliver's shoulder, which was growing damp with tears. And his injured leg felt as though it were far away, only connected to Oliver by the thinnest of strings, his focus sliding over it.

"I'm sorry," said Alexander, who sounded as though he were choking back a sob. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you and keep you safe. I was terribly worried about you."

He sounded so genuinely upset. Despite Emily's insistence that Alexander couldn't possibly care for him as more than a meal, Oliver couldn't bring himself to believe that. He sank fully into the comforting embrace, allowing himself to be absorbed into Alexander's arms.

Alexander pulled back slightly, and Oliver found himself looking into those deep eyes, like diving into an ocean. He was unable to look away, his memories of the mesmerism stirring in his heart, whispering to his mind that it would be so easy to lose himself in those eyes. It was only with herculean willpower that Oliver managed to blink and tear himself away.

"How is your injury?" Alexander asked.

"It's a severe knee fracture, the doctor said. They performed surgery on me when I first arrived." Oliver looked forlornly at his plaster-encrusted leg. "He said that I'll be in a wheelchair for a while, and might not ever walk without assistance again."

The fierce look in Alexander's eyes caught him off guard. "Then I'll have to take care of you in any way I can," he said. "I know that my manor isn't well equipped for it, but we'll make do. We can move your bedroom and bathroom to the first floor, rearrange the library so that you can navigate it more easily… I suppose I'll have to carry you up the stairs to my room when needed… and of course I'll have to arrange for a fine cane for you, for when you're well enough to stand. I'll get in touch with Edith, she'll know where to purchase wheelchairs and canes."

Oliver couldn't help but be relieved that the vampire was willing to try and care for him in this situation. Even though it wouldn't make sense for Alexander to abandon him, not after how much he'd paid and risked and how much he seemed to value his thrall, a small but significant part of Oliver had been quietly insisting that he was a burden now, not worth the trouble.

Alexander's gaze strayed toward the rose in the cup, and from the look on his face Oliver could tell that he instantly grasped the meeting. "My sire was here."

"He was," said Oliver tersely, suddenly reminded of the main reason he couldn't put his trust in Alexander. Somehow, Alexander's sire had learned where Oliver was.

"What did he do? Did he harm you?"

"He didn't harm me any worse than I had already been harmed," said Oliver. "Did you tell him where I was?"

Alexander groaned, and if the forlorn look on his face was an act, it was a very good one. "I wouldn't have told him anything if I had been given a choice. Surely you know that. He thinks that your capture makes me even more of an abject disappointment, and I'm sure he intends to punish me at his leisure. On top of that, I certainly didn't wish for him to torment you. Please believe that."

"Then how did he know?"

"The worst possible timing," said Alexander. "The night after you were captured, just as I had woken from the sleeping potion and was preparing to go out and find you, I had an unexpected and unwelcome visitor."

"Your sire."

"At the stroke of midnight, as always. He came to deliver an invitation, and he noticed right away that you weren't present."

"Couldn't you have told him I was asleep in my bedroom, or sick, or…"

"He can always tell when I'm lying," said Alexander miserably. "On top of that, he could tell you were missing by your smell, or lack thereof. He was furious, of course -- but for once, I feel like I deserve it, considering I failed to protect you. I know my words might not mean much, but I truly am sorry, and not just about that." Alexander gripped both of Oliver's hands earnestly. "I've failed in my duties towards you as your master, and I do intend to rectify that. I don't want us both to be trapped under my sire's thumb forever. I managed to apprehend the hunter --"

"Vivian!" said Oliver. "What have you done with her?"

"We haven't harmed her at all. She's with Lily now."

His heart sank, thinking of the strong, determined hunter, now helplessly under Lily's spell, perhaps even memory-wiped like Miriam. His mind traveled back to the time when Alexander had brought him to Lily's home, of the terrified man that Oliver had falsely reassured, how Lily thought nothing of dragging a man on a leash to be hypnotized. "I think she would consider becoming a thrall a fate worse than death. Isn't there any way you could let her go?"

"Lily will be very gentle with her. She seems quite well suited to being a thrall, despite how she might feel about it now," said Alexander easily, as though he weren't discussing condemning a woman to servitude. "And then, there's you." He touched Oliver's cheek, gazing into his eyes. "She lifted much of my spell on you, didn't she?"

There was no real point in denying it. "She did. She made me very keenly aware of my… situation. How I've effectively been captured and enslaved."

Alexander recoiled slightly at this, as though the thought had never occurred to him, and the look on his face almost made Oliver want to take back his words. "…Were you really so unhappy with me?" he said quietly.

Oliver looked away. "No. I wasn't unhappy."

He gripped Oliver's chin, drawing him in. "Then just let me --"

"Wait!" Oliver knew that any protest would be futile if Alexander desired to put him under again. As soon as he began to sing of obedience and loyalty, as soon as Oliver looked a little too long into those eyes, the struggle would be lost. But still, he had believed that Alexander could be reasoned with. He had to try. "Can't we talk about this first?"

"Oliver…" he said with a truly pathetic expression. "I know that this life isn't what you would have chosen, but…"

"You never gave me the chance to choose," he said. "You told me before, when you put me under your spell for the first time, that you wanted loyalty, and not obedience. But you never actually let me give you loyalty that wasn't coerced." Oliver wrung his hands in his blanket. "I know the position I'm in. I know that you have all the power over me, and that you could take my mind at any moment. I know that I have every reason to be angry with you… but I have nowhere to go, and no one to return to but you. And despite everything, the truth is that a part of me did miss you."

"You did?" said Alexander, latching onto that one statement as though it was the only part he cared about.

"What I'm trying to say is, I would go with you willingly. You don't need to ensorcel my mind. I won't try to escape -- as though I even could. You have my word." Olive was all too aware that he had no actual leverage, and that this was the only card he could play.

"You…" Alexander was clearly having trouble processing this. "You wish to stay and serve me without being enthralled?"

"I do," he said firmly. "I'm offering you my service of my own free will, or what remains of it."

"But why would you want that? You won't be happy," said Alexander.

"I think I could be happy in your manor, even without being ensorcelled into false bliss," said Oliver. "But I also think, perhaps, that keeping my mind at least somewhat intact is more important to me than being made happy. I suppose my mind is really all I have, now more than ever. I want to feel things. I want to have choices, even if I still choose to serve you. I want to think."

Alexander took a long time before responding. "I was much younger than you, when I was taken," he said finally. "I was still in my schooling, throwing all of my time and energy into music, which I loved more than anything. I had a family and friends. I had a future."

Oliver's breath stilled. He'd never considered that the vampire must have once been human. He was surprised that Alexander even remembered what it was like, so long ago.

"I hated my master -- who became my sire -- more than words can say. He stole me away from everything and everyone I loved. But unlike me, he rarely touched his thrall's minds."

"He didn't hypnotize you?"

"No. He conditioned me to obedience in much harsher ways. He did nothing to dull my mind of the pain and the grief. I spent years in misery, losing all hope, and then he killed me and made me into his kind, so that I could inflict the same suffering on others." Alexander's eyes were rimmed with tears when he looked back up at Oliver. "My master never showed me mercy. I want to give you mercy."

"Mercy?"

"I know it's selfish. I know I tore you out of the life you had. I know I'm keeping you a captive. But even still… even with everything I've done… I can't bear for you to hate me," he said. "That's one reason why I can't free your mind, Oliver. Because I don't want you to despise me the way I despise my sire, and the only way to do that is to bend your thoughts towards contentment. It's the best I can do for you."

Oliver leaned back in his hospital bed. "I don't hate you, Alexander."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I thought that I should, given what you've done to me, how you've put me in terrible danger. But I still don't." Oliver sighed. "At the end of the day, perhaps it's because I've been dreadfully lonely, too, with only books as my freedom. Maybe Lily was right all along, and I really am just well suited for serving a vampire. Maybe I just enjoyed having someone care for me, even if it was an illusion."

"It's not an illusion," said Alexander firmly. "I do care for you. You're the only thing that's brought me any real joy since Fitz left."

"I want to believe that, but it hurt me, when your sire was tormenting me and you did nothing in my defense. Even if there's nothing you could have done, I --"

Alexander was looking truly miserable now. "No, you're right. I know full well that I need to find a way to keep you out of his clutches, and not fail you the way I failed my dear Fitz." He sighed. "Because he is my sire, he can compel me to his wishes as easily as he can compel you. So any resistance I offer must be carefully considered, lest it bear no fruit but punishment."

"I understand," he said reluctantly.

"The last time I truly stood up to him -- he took Fitz, and he tortured us both. I don't want that to happen to you. That's why I must obey him until I have a solid plan. Rushing and failing would be a surefire way to expose you to immense harm." He stroked Oliver's cheek fondly. "And if I do fail, I want you to have the chance to escape."

Oliver nodded. As terrified as he was of the Maestro, Alexander was right that confronting him must be done carefully.

"You're an ideal thrall, Oliver," said Alexander, gently stroking the side of his face, and Oliver couldn't help but lean into the touch. "I had gone so long without a good thrall that it was taking all of my restraint to not capture and ensorcel any decent smelling person on the street, much less a prize like you."

"But you don't have to do that. You don't have to ensorcel me."

"I could never be around you and restrain myself. It was difficult enough when I visited your shop. Now, that I know the sort of thrall you are, it would be unbearable torture."

"You could still have my blood, if you needed," said Oliver desperately, not wanting to think about how enjoyable the feedings had seemed before Vivian pulled him back to his senses.

"Your blood is only a fraction of what makes you desirable." A predatory look was in his eye, and Oliver was pinned by his gaze. "It's the way your eyes fog over when you're falling under my spell, the way you sway in a daze, the smile on your face when you're deep in entranced sleep, how you call me 'sir.' I've only seen one other human fall to me so beautifully. That sensation, the power I can hold over you, how effortlessly you drop into docile bliss… that's worth an ocean of blood."

Oliver's mouth went dry. He had been right that Alexander truly did care about him -- but when he suggested Alexander could be reasoned with, he'd been wrong, so wrong. He wasn't merely interested in Oliver's blood or his companionship. He wanted Oliver's mind and soul under his sway, and the hunger on his face made it clear that no compromise would be possible.

"I don't want to be enthralled to the point where I lose my memory and my wits become dull and sluggish," Oliver protested. He at least had to try.

"I won't do that to you. I enjoy your wits."

"I also don't want you to compel me into obedience if we disagree, or drag you to Lily if my thoughts become inconvenient."

"I'm not doing this to harm you," said Alexander with a kind tone that contrasted with his argument. "It's what's best for you as a thrall. You won't suffer. I can give you anything you need. I can make you happy."

Oliver swallowed. "You try to compel me to happiness, even when we're both being stalked by a monster who delights in torture. I don't want to be happy. I want to have my wits about me."

"And I owe it to you, and to myself, and especially to my dear Fitz, to be rid of him once and for all," said Alexander. "Until then, I will continue to relieve your pain, and ease a bit of my own in the bargain." He directed Oliver to look into his eyes, those sharp blue eyes as deep as the ocean and as treacherous.

"Please, Alexander," said Oliver, barely managing to look away.

"Shhh. It's all right, Oliver. It will be all right. I'll help you forget your pain and your fear." And he took Oliver's face into his hands and sang, his deep and melancholy voice echoing across the hospital ward. It was a deeply soothing sound, full of relaxation and peace and the quiet calm of servitude, and despite his feeble effort at resistance, Oliver's mind was being lulled away effortlessly.

"Please…"

"Quiet now, Oliver. You have nothing to fear, nothing to struggle against, only sleep. Deep, sweet sleep, where you can be so quiet and listen."

He wanted so badly to rest in those eyes, to forget why he was fighting. Oliver was leaning forward, eyelids fluttering, sleepwalking back to his doom. It was all too familiar.

"You're an excellent thrall, so quiet and docile and perfect for me, just for me."

"…Thank you, sir."

"You can sleep, now, a sleep free of pain, and know that I will return each night to sing your pain away. I promise you that. I won't leave you alone and in pain in this dreadful place. But for now, I want you to return to me. Remember your enthrallment, your deep and docile obedience, and return to me, your master."

Oliver nodded, drifting away, his mind falling back into the depths so easily, so naturally, right back where he belonged, a book slotted into his proper place on the shelf.

Previous > Masterlist

This chapter took me SO LONG to write, with three rewrites along the way! It's an extra long one, so I hope you enjoy! I'm going to get back to answering asks as well... Next week (hopefully): Fitz and the Maestro are getting along very well.

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