#when i start typing i lose the ability to think

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Yandere (human sized) ant colony/ alien hive? Love this blog btw

Aight, so I have this issue. I had the biggest lesbian fantasy when reading this ask, and I have no idea what you want (which is not insult btw I also frequently have no idea what the fuck I want). This isn't just you, dear anon, quite a few people crawl up to me on all fours with amazing ideas, but no genders or sexual orientations. For me, that's fine, gender neutral protagonists with vaguely described genitalia getting loved on by men, women, parasitic alien life forms that reproduce asexually, are all my jams. But I feel bad assuming that you are like me, and don't care about the gender of the yandere(s).

Did you know there are ant colonies that are all female, because the Queen reproduces asexually, creating clones of herself, but there is evidence to suggest that (similarly to the lesbian lizard species) they still have sex, just because it feels good?

Let me know, what you had in mind, because if you were hoping for something else I'll start writing something for you, but I'm still going to write the lesbian ant inspired alien colony.

[cantagirldrawinpeace]

Oda when I catch you Oda 🙂🔪

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[kaurwreck]

I think you're right that it's significant, and I think Mori is clever to recognize that Akutagawa is a rook.

Like a rook, Akutagawa is powerful, but generally contained and often undercut by his predictability. However, because he's keenly aware of his own constraints, and because others often aren't (especially regarding variables they've internalized as known), he's able to play into and against his own predictability to paradoxically surprise them.

He moves within the confines of his rigidity to shape outcomes, sometimes more effectively than his more dynamic opponents and peers. Rooks do that too, if you let them.

Me, knowing nothing about chess, probably overthinking the significance of referencing akutagawa in this scene, but is going to look it up later anyways

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part four)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is relieved that you don’t linger in the morning. He’s not one for pillow talk.

All you did was sleep next to each other, but waking up next to a girl to talk and cuddle is just too much for him. It borders on boyfriend shit, and he doesn’t do boyfriend shit.

He woke up with you pressed tightly against him, legs tangled, his nose buried in your hair. And maybe he did like it for a second, but that was just from the daze of part-consciousness.

Rafe lends you a pair of sweatpants on top of the boxers and t-shirt you’ve already wearing so you can deal with your door’s lock issue.

You leave his room without many words exchanged, thankfully able to sort the problem out soon after putting an emergency request in with maintenance.

Rafe spends most of his Sunday at the frat house, playing video games with his buddies. When Blake settles onto the couch, he pats Rafe’s shoulder. Rafe is focusing on the screen, but he glances at his friend for a second.

“I dm’d her,” he says with a grin. Rafe immediately clues in that he’s talking about you.

“I put in a good word for you,” Rafe replies, glad he has the game to pay attention to. He feels awkward talking about this. About you.

“Appreciate it, man,” he laughs.

���You thinking of, uh, dating her or…?” Rafe asks, tense but desperate to know if he might lose the best fuck buddy he’s ever had.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Blake says. Rafe sees him typing from his peripheral vision, surely working on a message to you.

Rafe gave you the heads up, so when you’re sitting in your room reading an article for school, you’re not surprised when Blake follows and messages you on Instagram. You follow back and respond, open to getting to know him.

After dinner that night, Rafe texts you: cowgirl time?

You laugh. It’s a stark difference from the g-rated messages you’ve been getting from Blake all day.

You reply: i’ll be over soon

You’re holding Rafe’s folded clothes when you knock. He opens his door and takes them from you as you walk into his room.

“They fixed my lock,” you say. “One question for you, though.”

Rafe shuts the door and drops the clothes onto his desk, then picks up the wrapped condom he has ready and tosses it on the bed.

“What?” he asks as you sit on his mattress.

“How come you were cuddling me this morning if you hate it so much?” you say.

Rafe feels the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

“I wasn’t,” he says. It’s funny seeing him shy for once. It’s even a little cute.

He was embracing you pretty sweetly this morning. You woke up with his warm, heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, his head nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his snores sporadic and low.

You know it was just a sleep-induced reflex in his tiny bed, but you can’t pass up a chance to mess with him.

“It’s okay to like it,” you joke. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Rafe can’t have this conversation. He leans over, his hands on your cheeks as he kisses you. He’s not wasting any more time.

You let him push you onto your back, lying in the middle of his bed, your head resting on his pillow. Rafe hovers over you and grinds against you, his hard bulge pushing against your middle.

You’re already throbbing for him as his lips roam over your neck. You angle yourself so that he can have full access to you, and he accepts the invitation immediately, his hot mouth on your throat.

He’s slow and tender. This is a far cry from the man who immediately went to groping you just a few nights ago.

Your hands find his hair, raking through his soft locks as he kisses and sucks at your neck. He lets out a soft, nearly silent moan as gently graze his scalp. The sensation gives him goosebumps.

“That feel nice?” you whisper with a smile. Rafe can only nod. He didn’t even have to tell you to do it. He didn’t even know he liked it until you did it.

You continue to play with his hair while he kisses your neck. Rafe feels you writhing beneath him, as if your body is begging for his.

You take turns taking off each other’s clothes with earnest movements, your pulse growing even faster once his boxers are off, his cock raised and swollen. He lingers over you, eyes sweeping over your face, before he puts his mouth on your neck again.

He kisses and sucks, making you gently buck your hips against him.

“You gonna ride me, baby?” Rafe asks against your skin. Your yes comes out with a raw exhale.

His hand cups your waist, pushing to encourage you to roll to your side and switch positions. He settles on his back as you straddle him, feeling the underside of his firm length pressing against your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” Rafe says. You look down at him with a hungry look in your eyes and nod. It’s exhilarating to see you hanging on his words; outside of sex, you gibe and pester each other, but here, right now, you’re in perfect harmony.

You pick up the shiny condom wrapper he left on the bed and he smirks in satisfaction.

“Put it on me,” he instructs. “It shows how bad you want it.”

You open the wrapper and settle on your knees to set the condom on his tip, rolling the lubed latex down his thick cock.

The sight of you holding him with one hand and rolling the condom down with the other makes Rafe’s brain foggy.

You thought you’d feel graceless turning to mount him in reverse cowgirl, but it feels natural and familiar now that you’re getting more comfortable with him, remembering this is all to help each other improve. You sink down onto him, body tensing at the feeling of him stretching you out.

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, remembering how he encouraged you talk through it last night in the car.

“You’re so big,” you praise, voice breathy.

“Yeah?” he groans behind you. “You take my dick so fucking good.”

Your silky walls hug him perfectly, your body starting to rock. He watches your pussy swallow his girth, wishing you would go faster, but letting you take your time and adjust.

Rafe always went fast before, right to what he wanted most, but you’re teaching him that there’s pleasure in the lead-up, too. Coming up with the proposal to do this with you was the best idea he’s ever had.

You arch your back, trembling as you start to quicken your pace, sliding up and down his slick cock and gasping at the pleasure of him hitting so deep inside of you.

Rafe’s breaths are ragged as he watches your ass bounce with every slam. His hands are on your hips, but his touch is feather-light, letting you do it all.

Between your thrusts, you pause when he’s bottomed out to writhe and roll on him, enjoying every angle as he massages inside of you.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans as you squeeze around him.

“Should I…” you begin. You look over your shoulder to see the dazzling sight of his quirked up lips, lids heavy, bare chest glistening with sweat. You remind yourself to stop being so nervous. “I’m gonna touch myself.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Good girl.” He desperately wants to watch, but he’s here to get better in bed, and putting your pleasure first sometimes is clearly something he needs to work on.

Rafe hears you moan, knowing you’re rubbing yourself. He looks up at the ceiling to keep himself from cumming from hearing your groans mixed with the sound of your wetness.

“Shit, I…” you say, your thighs starting to weaken. “Okay, you can help a little.”

He immediately bucks his hips against you, positioning himself so he can fuck you while underneath you. The pressure from him jolting up against you is like a drug.

“How am I doing?” he rasps. Your moans are telling him everything he needs to know.

“You’re… fuck…” you breathe, your body shaking with every thrust. “Perfect.”

The pleasure from your words quells him. He feels you clenching around him and he knows with certainty now when you’re about to reach your peak.

His hands are on the small of your back, fingers splayed over your skin, as you ride him into a mind-blowing orgasm. Every inch of your skin tingles as you cum, looking down at your hands on his sheets.

You eventually lift off of him, breathless, turning to look at him. Rafe loves that expression on your face, pure elation and fatigue.

“However you want me,” you tell him tiredly, eager to give him the same feeling you gave him.

“On your knees,” Rafe says. He doesn’t even have to think about it. You twist into position for him, cheek pressed against his bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Rafe’s hand is on his cock as he guides himself into you, revelling over how pretty your cunt looks, so swollen and wet.

His hands are tight against your hips as he slams into you, making your body rock. He looks down to your face, taking in your profile as you accept all of him, your lips parted.

“However I want?” he mutters, panting as he pushes in and out of you. “That’s how much you love this dick, yeah?”

“However you want,” you echo, your voice raspy from tiredness. “Whatever will make you cum inside me.”

He slaps your ass, the lust taking over him, and immediately worries it was too much.

The low moan you let out tells him it was a good move. He smirks to himself, thrashing harder, balls slapping against you, bed squeaking beneath you.

You feel him harden and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he cums, letting out a tangled string of fuck’s.

He pulls out and you drop to your side, laughing out of bliss. You knew sex was good, but never that it was this good.

As Rafe cleans up, you sit up to find your clothes, utterly fucked out. While you’re sliding your top on, he sits on the edge of his bed close to you, boxers back on and blue eyes travelling over your face.

“So, how… was your day?” he stiffly asks.

You laugh. Hard. He’s so awkward about it, but he’s trying. It’s endearing.

“Aftercare,” you say. “Look at you go.”

Your laugh is contagious, making him chuckle, too.

“It was good. My readings are kind of killing me, but good. How was your day?”

You stand to put your pants on as Rafe watches you, his dirty blond hair tousled.

“Just played video games with the guys,” he replies.

“You know we’re here for school, right, frat boy?” you tease.

“What’s that?” Rafe plays along. You chuckle and nudge his shoulder.

“I need a shower,” you say. “Promise I won’t show up in a towel this time. Well done.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes at him before leaving his room.

Between gruellingly long classes and hanging out with friends in his free time, the week seems to get away from Rafe. Before he knows it, it’s Thursday night and he’s hanging out with his brothers at the frat house.

Someone mentions ordering food, and as a show of camaraderie, Rafe picks up the tab. As he sits at the dining table amongst large group of guys, Sam gets to talking.

“Rafe, you think we could go with your car tomorrow, too?” Sam asks. “You could fit four of us, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Rafe figures that all the new pledges are going to get stuck with the jobs nobody else wants, like driving to certain outings. It’s only an hour drive, though, so he won’t complain.

The frat has plans to go south to Sam’s family’s lakehouse for the weekend. He’s only been part of the frat for almost half a month now, but Rafe is thoroughly enjoying having such a full social calendar.

“It was supposed to be just us brothers…” He shoots a look at Blake.

“What? You said it was cool,” Blake laughs.

“Who else is coming?” Rafe asks.

“Blake invited your hot neighbor,” Sam says. Rafe almost wants to say that you have a name, the reflex to defend you surprising him.

“She said yes?” Rafe asks, his tone hastily snide.

“She’s bringing friends, too,” Blake says, not catching onto Rafe’s irritation. “It’ll be more fun having girls around. Trust me.”

“Can I invite some girls, too?” another frat brother asks.

Rafe glances down at his paper plate, his jaw tight. If you start something real with Blake, this is over. He regrets not seeing you since Sunday. He should have taken advantage of the potentially limited time with you.

When he heads back to his dorm room later that night, Rafe texts you: soo ur coming this weekend?

You respond: what kind of coming?

You’re at Liv’s, talking about what to pack for the upcoming getaway. You’re only staying for a night and half a day, but you don’t want to risk forgetting anything.

“This one? Or this one?” Liv asks, holding up two bikinis.

“The red one,” you answer. Blake only mentioned that there’s a hot tub at the lakehouse about ten times.

You didn’t think you’d say yes when he first asked about this weekend, but when Liv and three other friends said they’d be up for it, you figured a getaway would be fun. Even if it involved a group of rowdy frat boys.

Blake mentioned it was supposed to be a bonding trip, whatever that means, but said that he wants you to come. You’re still not sure how you feel about him, but you’re willing to pursue it.

Your phone buzzes.

Rafe: lol shut up

You smile at the message.

“What’d he say?” Liv asks, a smile on her face. She knows you’ve been casually texting Blake back and forth.

“It’s Rafe this time,” you tell her. “Probably a booty call.”

You reply to him: yeah I’m coming. does that make me a frat bro too

Rafe: u wish

You: i do :( i really do wish

You see the bubbles on your screen telling you that he’s typing.

Rafe: come over?

You just got to Liv’s and don’t want to bail on her for a guy. So you reply to Rafe: can’t tonight.

Rafe’s stomach drops at the notification. Maybe you’re done. Maybe all he got was three nights with you, before another guy swept in to take away the best no-strings-attached sex he could ask for.

He feels better when you reply: but i’ll see you tomorrow :). Good. At least you’re not tied down to anybody yet.

When you pull into the driveway of the lakehouse the next evening, you realize the word house doesn’t cut it. Maybe manor would be a better fit. Or palace. The place is gigantic.

You and your friends pile out of the car and enter the storm of loud men enjoying uncurbed fun and excessive beer. Sigma Chi brothers are scattered around the first story of the house, but the majority of them are surrounding the kitchen island, bottles and solo cups littering the granite counter-top.

Rafe has to look away when Blake greets you with a hug. He hasn’t mentioned to anybody that you’re technically still hooking up, but now, being in the same room with both of you, he feels a competitive urge catch fire in his gut.

He thought he liked Blake. He doesn’t right now.

Thankfully, your friend groups seem to naturally merge together. The endless amount of liquor probably helps.

During a rambunctious game of flip cup that you decide to sit out, in the haze of your tipsiness, you’re not sure if Rafe finds you or you find him or you find each other at the same time, but you’re soon standing by the fridge together, tension thick between you as you watch the drinking game unfold.

Rafe can’t help himself. He has to ask.

“What were you so busy with last night?”

“I was with my friend,” you say. “What were you so eager to practice?”

Rafe cracks a smile, ducking his head so you and only you can hear his low, smooth voice.

“I wanna see how fast I can make you cum.” Arousal coils in your stomach instantly. “I bet I could do it in a minute now.”

He pulls back, his smile coy.

“We’ve had sex like two times-”

“Three.”

“Three,” you laugh. “And you’re that sure of your skills?”

Rafe simply nods, taking a slow drag of his drink.

“I don’t know where you get that confidence from,” you say, looking at him with feigned disapproval.

“You called me perfect,” he says.

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

The group playing flip cup erupts in a loud applause. You can tell which group lost the game immediately by looking at Blake, who’s laughing and excitedly shaking his friend by the shoulders.

You watch him, realizing okay, you definitely have a crush. He’s cute and charismatic and if the messages you’ve exchanged this week are any indication of his character, he’s kind, too.

Rafe is looking at you the entire time, at the smile on your face.

“And you like this?” you tease, looking back at Rafe and gesturing to the group of boisterous frat boys.

“You mean fun?” Rafe replies. You laugh. You can admit you’re having fun, too. But this is what you and Rafe do. You mess with each other.

“I couldn’t be around this 24/7,” you say.

“I’m gonna be when I move in to the house next semester.” Rafe realizes he’s waiting on your reaction with bated breath, to see how you feel about not sharing a wall anymore.

But he’s interrupted by Blake, who approaches you with a drunken smile.

“Why didn’t you play?” he asks softly, tapping your shoulder.

“For my own safety,” you reply. “You guys are insane.”

“She’s so rude,” Blake says to Rafe, who can only nod and take another sip of his drink to swallow down the confusing lump of anger he feels growing in his chest.

“You mentioned a hot tub?” you say to Blake, the promise of a warm soak sounding amazing. Rafe wonders what else Blake mentioned to you.

Blake’s smile widens and when he offers his hand, you take it and let him lead you out of the kitchen. Rafe’s fist tightens around his cup.

Liv and two other frat boys join you and Blake in the hot tub. You have fun talking and joking with them as your beer wears off. You notice Blake moving closer to you as the night goes on.

Things slow down close to 2 a.m. People start to retire to the guest rooms. Some don’t even make it and pass out on the couch.

Rafe is still awake when you come through the back porch doors in your bikini, your hardly covered body wet. The sight makes his groin tighten.

He’s standing in the dining room snacking on pretzels and you meet his gaze. He has something about him that strikes you every time you see him. He’s just so handsome.

He seems entirely aware and alert.

“You’re sober, too?” you say with a surprised laugh, pacing to the other side of the dining table.

“I am,” he replies. You lean over to take a pretzel, giving him a good glance at your cleavage.

Truthfully, Rafe cut himself off when he started feeling buzzed. He stayed awake and sober for you.

The moment he watched Blake lead you away, he knew he had to have you at least one more time before you’re spoken for. Nobody’s going to take you away from him any longer, at least not tonight.

So before Sam went to bed, he convinced him to give him the keys to his family’s boat that’s sitting in the water down by the lakeside dock.

“You ever fucked on a boat?” Rafe asks, his eyes glinting, his dimples deep. He holds up a key.

You put a hand on your hip, excitement flooding your every sense.

“First a car, now a boat?” you say, a smirk growing on your face. Is he seriously about to take you out this late at night? He’s insatiable. And adventurous. It’s thrilling.

“Come on,” Rafe rasps with a bit of a whine to his voice, stepping closer to you, towering over you as his hand drags over your arm.

You couldn’t say no if you tried.

(part five)

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[sommerbueckers]

can you do another part of drew’s babysitter 😁 it was just too good fr

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐰'𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫³

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧����, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨

___________________________________________________________

THE LINDBERGH CENTER WAS packed to the brim for the game, a sea full of our school colors. I was standing with a few of my friends, a Wayzata Trojans hoodie hugging my body. My hair was up in a bun, streaks of blue and yellow eyeblack covering my cheeks. I could see her across the court, clad in her black and blue uniform with her warmup jacket zipped over it. Her ponytail swung gracefully behind her, covering up the '1' that was displayed proudly on her back.

I wanna point at you when the game ends and we're up twenty.

Paige's words rung in your ears, they had been for the entirety of the weekend. To say I had been looking forward to the game had been an understatement, it felt like it had been within arm's reach ever since Paige and I talked about it Friday night. It was different than all the others; this time, Paige knew I was here, she knew I was watching.

"I swear we better win tonight— or at least come close to it," my best friend, Elaine, mumbled from beside me. She was cleaning off her camera, readying to take a selfie of us. "Does my hair look good?"

"You look fine," I reassured her, crossing my arms over my chest. I was feeling more nervous for the game than usual, my typical smile being replaced with a look of concentration. I wanted someone to win, and of course I had convinced myself it was Wayzata. But deep down, I knew I wanted it to be Hopkins. Paige would have something to say to me after that, and after not talking to her after... Friday, talking to her was something I had been craving.

"Say 'Fuck the Royals!'" Elaine exclaimed, sticking out her tongue for the camera. I remained silent, pursing my lips out toward her cheek. "Cute!" She began typing vigorously on the screen

Paige seemed entirely at ease; laughing with her teammates, dancing on the court, not a single worry crossing her mind. I shamelessly watched her, blocking out whatever Elaine was saying beside me. The blonde's ability to be completely focused and have her own fun at the same time was mesmerizing, she was mesmerizing.

By halftime, the Trojans were trailing by two, and by the final buzzer we were trailing by twenty-one. Our student section was defeated to say the least, low heads and hushed voices. I bit my lip as I stared around at them, feeling slightly guilty. We had been bound to lose, Hopkins had gone undefeated for the last two seasons. But a part of me was glad, because Paige would be in a good mood.

Elaine and I followed the crowd of students off the bleachers and onto the court. She was sulking, her arms crossed and eyebrows pointed downward. "It was a bad night for us," she argued.

"I'm gonna go speak to the Bueckers, i'll be back," I told her quickly, weaving my way through all the students. The family was sitting in the 'Home' section of the bleachers, Bob was standing as he conversed with another man. Drew was showing something to his mom on the phone in his hand, laughing wildly.

When he saw me walking over to them, his smile grew from ear to ear. "We whooped you!" he said, pointing.

"You better knock it off, or you'll be lookin' for a new babysitter," you warned jokingly, taking the seat beside him.

"How are you, hon?" Moe asked with a kind smile.

"I'm really good, how are you guys?"

"We're great!" she exclaimed, "Drew's been talking about you non stop, says he wants you to come over even when we're not out."

The boy hid his face as his mom laughed, I gently nudged him. "Maybe if you do all your homework and go to bed on time, then i'll think about it."

"Speaking of this," Moe started, "if you're not busy this Saturday, Bob and I are going out again and Paige is always out doin' her own thing, do you mind working?"

"Not at all! Just let me know what time."

Paige was coming up the bleachers, holding the strap of her backpack. She greeted her dad first, then Moe, and her and Drew did a little handshake before she turned to me. There was a large smirk on her lips, the cockiest one I could've ever imagined.

"Twenty-one points," she said.

"Yes, yes," I waved her off dismissively, "I was watching."

"Did you notice I didn't point? I spared you some dignity, you should be thanking me," her tone was teasing.

"Get outta here!" I gently kicked her, shaking my head. She pretended to be hurt, grabbing at her leg and falling into the seat next to me. I could feel the heat from her body radiating off of her, she laid her forehead on my shoulder and made crying sounds. "You're honestly a mess," I brushed her off.

"So are you, at least you will be," she whispered, earning an eyebrow raise from me. "Wanna come to mine tonight?"

You titled your head, slightly groaning. "Can't, got a paper I need to finish."

She fell silent for a moment, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she thought of a solution. Then, she perked up.

"How 'bout I come to yours then?"

My family was home, but my parents were no doubt already laid down in bed, and my sister wouldn't be a problem. Paige was giving me that same look that made me lose it last time, I was shamelessly losing it this time too. There was a lot on the line; my phone, my car, my door privileges, all for some pussy. I was gonna do it too.

"You can't park there," I whispered, "and you gotta come through my window so call me when you're outside."

"Bet."

HOW WAS I EVEN supposed to focus on my paper when Paige was coming over? I had taken another shower, threw the clothes that were on my floor into the deepest depths of my closet, curled my lashes, put on some blush, and topped it off with a coat of my favorite cherry chapstick. The pajamas that I had chosen were simple, loose cotton shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't want to look like I had put too much into my appearance.

When the long awaited ring of my phone finally came, I stared at the screen for a second before answering. I could hear Paige walking on the other end. I got up and walking over to my window, keeping the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I unlocked it. Poking my head out, I laughed at the sight of her walking down the street. She kept checking her surroundings.

"A little paranoid, aren't ya?" I said.

"You try walkin' alone at night, not the best feelin'."

"It's okay, I got y're back."

"From the window?" she scoffed out.

"Exactly."

When she reached the house, she disconnected the line and stuffed the phone into her pocket. I didn't even have to tell her to pick up the ladder, she placed it against the house and began climbing. I waited patiently with my hands on the seal, a smile playing at my lips the closer she got.

The air was chilly, goosebumps housing themselves on my arms the longer I stood there.

"Will you hurry up?" I whisper-yelled, she glared at me.

"This ladder is unstable," she breathed out once she reached me.

"You set it up."

She climbed through the window, turning around and shutting it behind her. She breathed out a sigh, the warmth of the room engulfing her. She rubbed her hands together.

"Nice room," she commented, looking around. She noticed the computer, "You finish your paper?"

"No..." I mumbled, "It's not due until Friday though."

"Wait—y're tellin' me you made me sneak all the way over here and your paper isn't due 'till Friday?" Paige frowned, her eyebrows creasing.

"I didn't make you do anything, y're here 'cus you wanna be."

Her eyes narrowed briefly, and she tilted her head before a smile broke out onto her face. She slowly walked over to me, her hands slithering around my waist and pulling me in.

"You might be right."

"I know i'm right," you sassed, palms pressing to her chest.

"Don't act like you don't want me here." Her voice had fell to something just above a whisper.

"Well I don't recall saying that I did..."

"Then tell me to leave."

You didn't move, didn't utter a word. Her grip on your body tightened, and you were sure that even if you did tell her to leave, she wouldn't. You could feel her breath warming the tip of your nose, her eyes boring into yours as if they were the only things keeping her here.

"C'mon," she urged teasingly, knowing I wouldn't. "Tell me to go home."

When I answered her with silence once more, she pressed her lips firmly against mine. She tasted like mint and...Paige, i'd never get tired of it. I cupped her face and held her tight, moving my lips in sync with hers. She picked up the pace, walking back backwards until my shins hit my footboard.

I pulled her down with me by her shirt as I fell, drawing out a surprised laugh from her that I quieted with a kiss. She climbed in top of me, her soft hair falling over our faces like a blonde curtain. The kisses became deeper, more passionate, it was as if I could feel every inch and crevice of her mouth. Her tongue swirled around my own, eliciting a moan from me.

Raincheck though, for sure.

Those were Paige's own words from last time, the very sentence that made me want to flip us over and take control. I pushed her back by her shoulders, moving her body aside with my leg. She fell onto the other side of the bed, face twisted in confusion. I straddled her, sultrily flipping my hair to one side.

"Fuck you look good," she mumbled dazedly, hands finding their way to my hips.

"I know," I whispered, reconnecting our lips.

She let out a soft moan when I bite her bottom lip, now trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck. One of her hands was tightly squeezing my thigh while the other slid under my shirt to roam across my back, holding me close.

I pulled at the hem of her shirt just as I finished leaving a mark on her collarbone. She hurriedly pulled it off.

"This too," I tugged on the strap of her sports bra. Once again, she obliged without hesitation. She lay half bare underneath me, tits small and perky, nipples hard and sensitive. I grazed my fingertips over them, and she breathed out a shaky breath. I maintained eye contact as I slowly lowered my head, twirling my tongue around one of her erect nipples.

I took as much of it into my mouth as I could, completely soaking her tit. I massaged the other with my hand, gently pulling and twisting the bud. Her back was arched off of the bed, wanting more, needing more. I pushed them together as far as I could, licking the visible separation between them.

"I need you to fuck me..." she whined. She tangled her hands in my hair, pulling my head back to look me in the eye. "Fuck me," she repeated, though this time it was firmer. She's wasn't asking. I laughed at her, my tongue still doing work on her nipple. It was then that I learned Paige didn't like teasing. She pulled harder on my hair, a gasp escaping my parted lips. "Fucking do it."

Leaving open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, I inched closer and closer to where I knew she wanted me. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of her pants, and she lifted her hips for me. With one swift motion, I removed her pants and underwear. I disregarded them somewhere on my floor, spreading her legs by her knees.

"That pussy is so wet baby," I murmured, eyeing it like a woman starved. I bit my lip at the sight of her dripping cunt, spread and soaked just for me. I hold her lips open with my fingers, blowing onto her. She bucked her lips and grabbed the sheets.

"Fuck c'mon, c'mon," she whined out desperately.

"So needy..." I teased. I licked two of my fingers, though with how wet she was I knew it wouldn't be a problem, and ran them along her slit. She was warm, arousal continuously leaking out of her. I brought my mouth to her puffy clit, flattening my tongue against it and pressing. My fingers teased the entrance of her hole, inserting the tips before taking them back out.

I began to flick my tongue back and forth over her clit, her breathing becoming louder and unstable. I slid my fingers in without warning, and Paige's hand flew to her mouth to conceal her moan. I closed my eyes, humming in satisfaction at the taste of her. She was pouring out onto my tongue, giving me every last bit of her.

She moved her hips desperately, grinding against my face. I quickened the pace of my fingers, wet noises filling the room. I moved my head around wildly, nose pressing against her clit. Paige was a whining mess, her eyebrows knitted together and lip taken in between her teeth. She tried to press her thighs together, but I kept them spread with my hand.

I turned my hand, fingers hitting deeper as I backed away to let my thumb do work on her clit. She stared down at me; my mouth glistened with her slick and my eyes held a dazed look.

"'M gonna cum," she whispered. "Mmm fuck 'm so close." She was moving her legs around, almost trying to get away from me. I went faster, her juices splashing out on me, her muffled moans filling my ears, her chest heaving quickly, none of it stopped me.

"Ah, fuck..."

I felt her clench around my fingers, and I held my mouth close to her, wanting to taste every last drop. With one last thrust from me, and one last cry from her, she spilled out onto my fingers. Her legs trembled and she was pressing my head into her pussy, eagerly grinding onto my face.

I kept curling my fingers inside of her as she rode out her orgasm. My sheets were soaked, but I didn't mind. I cleaned Paige up with my tongue, gently running it up and down her lips as she let out tiny moans and sighs. I kissed my way back up to her face, smiling down proudly at her.

"Y're good at that," she laughed.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," I smirked, pressing my lips to hers and letting her taste herself.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me down into her, "Y're turn."

___________________________________________________________

[crazyforhwa]

Between hard and soft hours tbh but I really can’t stop thinking about a lazy make out session with Seonghwa… with lots of tongue obviously because come on, it’s Seonghwa.

It’d feel so amazing to just have a whole make out session with him, hands on each other’s face or neck.. and maybe an other member (*cough* Choi San) witnessing it and ending up joining the fun……

✩LAZY MAKE OUT SESSIONS WITH SEONGHWA✩

anon, that's so fucking hot.. (seonghwa is just hot yk)

I feel like lazy make out sessions with him usually happen during gloomy or winter days, as he thinks it feels the most romantic that way. He would be the one to initiate them by doing seemingly innocent things that end with him pushing his tongue past your lips in no time.

It would be such a mess, the perfect contrast between lust and love. Just two bodies laying on the bed, some rnb music playing quietly in the background to spice up the mood.

I feel like he's the 'breathy moans' type of guy. Whining into your mouth, describing how much he desires you.. that's what he's into. He isn't afraid of letting out sounds, and he expects you to let out some too, especially when other members are around. It definitely makes him hard as a rock, knowing that his colleagues are listening.

And oh boy.. talking about exhibitionism, I feel like he would purposely leave his door not fully closed, BEGGING in his mind that somebody(ehem, San) would catch you guys in the act. And don't even start on joining. I don't think he would be 100% comfortable with every member, but he would definitely share you with San, Hongjoong or Wooyoung (boy would be already close just by seeing them play with you).

We all have seen that fucking tongue of his. it's long, pointy, and he knows how to use it. he constantly sticks it out during performances, so I imagine him to be an absolute freak. He wins every battle for dominance, even at such slow paced moments.

Spit. SPIT. He loves when your make out sessions are messy, long strings of saliva forming whenever he detaches his plump lips from yours. He would randomly pull away just to stick his tongue out and let his spit slowly drip into your mouth, quickly getting back to business after.

Let's also mention that not every make out session with him is just lips. Oh no no, he is paying attention to everything. Sometimes he lowers himself and plants soft pecks against your neck. Sometimes he gently bites your earlobe, his warm breath tickling your skin. And sometimes he just smothers your whole face with smooches, grinning while he does so. He is a man of passion, but in these moments he just loves to chill out and show you love in a slightly different way.

Oh, and that smirk of his. He would grab different parts of your body unexpectedly, making you let out soft gasps that would trigger his cocky smile. Sometimes it'd be an innocent booty grab, but one second later his hand is slowly sliding under your shirt, his warm fingers exploring your body, getting closer to the sensitive areas on your chest.

After about half an hour, he will lose the ability to think straight. His hand would slide into your pants and quickly find your opening, slowly forcing two fingers into your tight hole. He would hit every sweet spot while still kissing you, getting "annoyed" and spanking you every time you get distracted by the pleasure.

Oh, yes.

I love him, man😭😭😭😭

should I make it a fic? 👀 (I feel like this is way too short, I'm sorry)

[prolifeproliberty]

Hey, I'm stumped on this objection, if it's alright, I want your input on this

"For these types of people I always give them a hypothetical situation for them answer So if you knew your wife was going to die by giving birth to the child would you let Your wife get an abortion or would you let your wife die in the child grow up without a mother?"

What do you think?

I would answer that the choice is never actually that simple. We imagine this cinematic moment where the doctor comes out to talk to the anxious husband in the waiting room and says “Sir, we can only save one of them. Should we save your wife or your child?” and he has to make that choice.

That makes a very dramatic movie scene, but it’s not real.

There are three categories of “life of the mother” situations:

1. Very early pregnancy. Mother has a life threatening condition and cannot be kept stable until the child reaches viability (now around 22 weeks with evidence-based best practices). Even in these situations, a direct abortion isn’t the life-saving care. Usually we’re talking about the mother needing a treatment for her life-threatening condition that risks the life of the baby. Most ethical choice is to treat the mother. If the baby dies as a result of the treatment, that is a tragic loss. If the baby doesn’t die, awesome! In this category, there is no way to save the baby without saving the mother, because if the mother died, the baby would too. Ectopic pregnancies fall in this category because there is currently no way to save the baby. If we developed the ability to get ectopic embryos to successfully re-implant in the uterus, that would become the ethical option.

2. Late-term complications. I’m going out of order here for a reason. This is anything where the mother’s life-threatening health issue starts after viability, but especially when we’re talking 30 weeks and on. Baby’s chance of survival with an early delivery goes up rapidly as baby approaches full term. In these cases, if the mother needs immediate treatment for a life threatening issue, she doesn’t actually need her baby to die. There is no reason to choose between the mother and child. A C-section is actually safer than a late-term abortion, since third trimester abortions usually still involve the mother laboring and delivering a dead baby. If the concern, as posed in the original hypothetical, is that she would “die by giving birth,” then she probably just needs a C-section (or a better doctor).

3. The third category is the most complex one. This is when the life threatening issue for the other begins when the child cannot yet survive outside the womb, but may be able to in a few weeks. This is where the difficult decisions are made. This category includes women diagnosed with cancer who might decide to delay treatment to protect their child until their child can be safely delivered. However, even here we can see examples of mothers who choose to receive treatment without first killing their child, and doctors who find innovative ways to treat life-threatening illnesses without harming preborn children.

The true answer is “save them both.” We can’t always - just as any doctor knows in a triage situation they can’t always save all the patients. The decision of who to save is never based on which patient is more human, more valuable, or more worth saving. The answer is instead based on how the doctor can save the greatest number of patients. If the doctor can save everyone, they do. If the doctor knows a course of action means for sure saving one patient, while another might not make it, but the alternative is losing both, then they will choose to save at least one. We almost never see a situation where the doctor has to arbitrarily choose between two patients - the decision is always based on the condition of each patient, the resources available, how much time there is, etc. There are algorithms for this kind of thing.

Basically I refuse to let unrealistic hypotheticals dictate actual policy on saving children.

Because people believe in the “we can only save one, choose!” scenario, we get doctors telling women that they will die if they don’t get an abortion, and then they cry to the media that they had to go to Colorado or California to get their “life-saving procedure.” The reality is that either the doctor could have treated the mother without first killing the baby and given the baby a chance to survive, or they could have delivered the baby and then treated the mother.

Anyone who says they couldn’t do the first option under ____ state abortion law is either lying or ignorant. If the mother’s condition is actually life-threatening, every state allows doctors to treat the mother. Killing a child doesn’t cure any illness.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about how canon it is that Logan's cptsd and truama is so bad that his brain quite literally just DIPS sometimes like in days of future past when he blinks out and Charles is the one who calms him down.

How he grabs charles up and growls at him that he dosn't know who he is, where he is, or how he got here. He sees one of his best friends in the future and screams "What the fuck is that!?"

Charles and Hank just look at him like bruh weve been over this already. He says "Ill handle this," while looking at Logan when talking to Hank, then tells Hank to go stop Erik.

Logan recognizes this as Charles having authority over this big blue beast of a man, somewhat submitting to his word, litsening that he is infact 'Logan' and that he's spent the last couple of days with them (establishing that they are friends not foe) and then- in the most pathetic way ever- Lies to him. Tells him he's on "really bad acid"

Logan is still very spooked but just gives a little nod.

This is the quickest I've seen ANYONE gain his trust when in states like this other than Jean and Kurt, who was stupid enough to bear hug the feral woods man charging at him with his claws out.

Kurt is one of the few people without telepathy (even though Charles sacrificed his for his legs) who can get to Logan very quickly with minimal damage.

And I feel like... Wade might be just as stupid. He's so stupid that Logan would growl at him, shove a fist full of knives right through him, and Wade would just stand there like "ouch. Anyway- what's got you all riled up, peanut?"

So he'd do it again. And again. Annndd again.

When he finally does think Wade is dead, he just gasps and sits back up. "Look if this is about what I did with your toothbrush-"

Logan could decapitate him, and still he would just chase after his head like, "Aaw not cool man, do you know how much it hurts to put this thing back on? 3 days of neck pain, that's what."

It would both freak logan out and confuse him enough to become grounded, that shock factor of "what the fuck just happened???" enough to regulate his heart.

Logan would stare at him, baffled, watching as he sits there and tries to reattach his head. He'd look at his bloody claws, look at the mess on the floor, blink a few times, and honestly might start batting at his head with pure curiousity.

"Oh my god, you're such a cat."

How was he talking still? Maybe he was sleeping. Yeah, that's it. He was dreaming. This was a dream.

The only real issue he would have is keeping Logan inside the apartment until he calmed enough to realize that this wasn't a dream- this is real- you just decapitated your room mate.

Because god knows that once you set a feral wolverine free? You won't find him again until he wants to be found, which can be weeks, months, years even.

He needs that soft authority. The type that's built on mutual trust and respect. The type where he has the ability to leave and return at his own will. The moment you try to pin him down, tell him that you have higher authority due to some made-up rank, that's when you lose him. Logan subconsiously has an animalistic based sense of authority and hierarchy.

Charles had "control" over this blue beasty creature, and to Logan, that means he's head hancho in that moment. It makes Logan recognize that there's a reason, too, seeing as Beast could easily destroy such a scrawny pathethic looking man, right? It's only natural for his systems to lay out like this. Having constantly battled for "dominance" with Victor also plays a part.

Despite being in the military for so long, hearing someone is captain does not add up in his head unless they deserve to be captain through strength or size. It's why while Wade (who technically is stronger than him) dosn't show agression to "prove" his status, Logan realizes that his claws being usless plays a big part.

It's like when you go to fight a battle in a video game only to realize that your fire powers do absolutely no damage on the fire based enemy, if anything, fueling it by giving it more fire.

A "aw shit sorry fam my bad" type of submission such as wolves do. While usually related, juvenile males will still try to prove dominance with the top male only for the top male to quickly remind them why they are boss in which case the juvenile wolf will be like "Damn sorry- My bad original gangster I was just being silly"

Logan also needs a reason to stay. Charles telling him that logan has stayed with them makes Logan believe he should stay with him longer.

He needs that beacon. And right now?

That talking head that he's pushing around on the floor is pretty entertaining.

"...how are you talking?"

"Oof look wolvie I love you're embrassing your true self but let's not open that can of worms The comics are contradicting, and by rights, I shouldn't be able to control my limbs anymore, but I can. Now- be a big, strong kitty cat and give me back to that handsome man over there, will ya?"

His body is just casually sitting there with his arms out, wanting his head back.

".... i'm so fucking high."

"I wish. If you were high on catnip you wouldn't have sliced me to bits."

"Heh... you're funny."

"Aawww!! Really?"

".... what happens if I punt your head out the window?"

"Woah woaH WOAH PEANUT LETS NOT GO THAT FAR! SAFEWORD!! I NEED THE SAFEWORD!"

But alas. He fogot the safeword.

This has been your PSA that safewords are important. Be safe, kiddos.

[etz-ashashiyot]

You know how sometimes arguing a point is losing?

Like if you engage the argument at all you are inherently putting up for debate things that should never be up for debate and the argument itself is degrading?

You see this with interpersonal gaslighting:

A gaslighter doesn’t simply need to be right. They also need for you to believe that they are right. In stage one, you know that they’re being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate  – your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage one, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate. In stage two, you consider your gaslighter’s point of view first and try desperately to get them to see your point of view as well. You continue to engage because you’re afraid of what their perspective of you says about you. Winning the argument now has one objective :  proving that you’re still good, kind, and worthwhile. In stage three, when you’re hurt, you first ask, “What’s wrong with me?” You consider their point of view as normal. You start to lose your ability to make your own judgements. You become consumed with understanding them and seeing their perspective. You live with and obsess over every criticism, trying to solve it.

[Source]

But you also see this on a broader societal level, with people asking unfathomably awful questions about minority groups, such as:

[Source]

It should go without saying, but no group of people should be forced to explain that yes, they really are real people, dickheads. The question doesn't deserve an answer; it deserves at best a disgusted eyeroll + "Are you a Nazi?" and at worst a punch to the face.

There is also the related phenomenon of the "when did you stop beating your wife?" type questions. The question is framed as a yes or no question, but the real answer for the innocent is: "I've never beaten my wife and never would." But even that answer still dignifies the question with a real response and puts the idea in the mind of the listener that hey maybe that's a real possibility and this guy is lying because of course he wouldn't just admit that. Now I don't know what to believe, but I'm skeptical.

Even if he answers, doubt has been cast on his character and many people (maybe even most people) neither have the attention span to listen to his full counter argument and supporting evidence nor are invested enough in strangers' lives to take the time to dig for facts on their own. Critically, it comes from a good impulse that shouldn't be repressed or taken too far in the opposite direction; namely, that we want to believe survivors and make it socially acceptable to speak out about abuse.

This leaves us with the uncomfortable reality that balancing believing survivors and whistle-blowers against not automatically believing allegations that very well may be false and/or in bad faith is a very tricky balancing act indeed. Because of this, people tend to struggle with taking survivors seriously and with presuming innocence until guilt has actually been proven, both. And as for the latter, this is at least partially due to the same psychological factors underlying the Don't Think of an Elephant problem.

Why am I discussing this?

See the thing is that these types of discourse have all been used, heavily, against the Jewish community, especially since Oct 7th, but really going back hundreds of years.

If you want to be our ally, you need to be on guard for how people use this rhetoric to accuse Jews of absolutely batshit cookoo bananas allegations (like being lizard people or having horns, or secretly running the world, or killing Christian babies to use their blood in our matzah, etc. etc.) and get away with it. Now obviously if so many people weren't already racist towards Jews as a people and had a vested interest in maintaining their supercessionist cultural worldview from Christianity and Islam, it would be a lot harder for this to work. Alas, the past 2000 years has created a bit of a snowballing effect.

This culminates in the effect described so well by Sartre:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

— Jean-Paul Sartre

Right now, Jews are facing extreme levels of these types of rhetorical abuse, and are receiving very little help in the way of pushback.

We have to stop trying to explain ourselves and start just naming these tactics instead.

[luv-y0urself]

boynextdoor when they have crushes

boynextdoor x fem!reader genre: fluff, slice of life, mayhaps...? | wc: 2026 words | warnings: all sorts of tropes ahead !! all of the boys are the same age as the reader in the fic, although not mentioned :) 𖤐．thank you to the anon who requested this ! i'm so sorry it took this long to get out... i might've gotten a little carried away (psst... i didn't tell you this, but i might be using this as a small teaser for a future series...!)

boy #1: park sungho

to me, sungho genuinely feels like the type to fall for his childhood best friend. it’s the feeling of comfort that he feels with her that suddenly morphs into something more, y’know? he’s having a casual night out, grabbing a quick drink with his friend for successfully ending the semester in one piece when she shows up dressed with her hair done, makeup immaculate, and a dress that fits her curves perfectly and accentuates all the nice things about her. he can’t help but gape at her form once he lays eyes on her, and is dumbfounded for a few seconds before he’s able to murmur a soft compliment in her direction. she merely laughs it off, telling him that he looked rather dashing that night as well. it was common for them to care for each other in that way; they didn’t think of it much when they were complimenting each other… but on that night, at that moment, sungho meant every word. once sungho is able to fully mull over the situation (and fully realizes that he definitely has a crush on her), sungho would go out of his way to care for her. he’s always sending her texts (much more than usual), usually things like “your class starts soon, are you at school yet?” to things like, “don’t skip lunch even if you’re working.” he strikes me as the type to bring lots of sweets to his gal when mother nature decides to pay her a visit, or for him to cook her some of her favorite broth if she’s feeling under the weather. at one point, i feel like she would realize that sungho has changed a little bit; she asks the other friends in her group about it and her friends can’t help but smack their foreheads at how dense sungho’s crush is, then help sungho set something up for him to actually overcome the fear of losing his friend and confess to her.

boy #2: lee riwoo

to be completely honest, i feel like riwoo is the type to fall for a girl that he met at a dance competition. riwoo would be one of the judges, waiting for the last performance to go on stage and dance their hearts out. he’s beyond tired, having gotten at the site more than six hours ago, and having sat in his chair without moving for four of those six. but once she comes onto stage, riwoo would feel the spinning world stop. all he can see is her, dancing her heart out to the choreographed routine that she and her group mates put together for everybody to see. it’s unprofessional, really — riwoo should be watching the performance for all of the rubric points, but all he could focus on was the way that she moved; the way that she waltzed with the song, her arms elongated and her steps light but strong, hitting each beat with undeniable passion that she must’ve practiced with. riwoo isn’t able to do anything the day of, however — that would be even more unprofessional than how distracted he was during the performance. no, the real time he would be able to do something is when he holds a surprise pop up class with a limited number of students able to attend, and she’s one of them. when checking their form, i feel like riwoo’s eyes would subconsciously stay on her form for a little longer compared to the other students, and if she had a question, he answer it to the best of his ability, and then some. riwoo doesn’t strike me as the impulsive type, but with her in the room, i feel like he would change the choreo that he's teaching to a pair dance, choosing her in the room to dance with.

boy #3: myung jaehyun

god, myungjae would be the loudest guy out there once he has a crush. he definitely strikes me as the type of guy to go shouting in the group chat, saying that he just spotted the “goddess” of their school while walking around. he probably also wouldn’t waste any time beating around the bush; the very next time he spots her, he would probably go up to her and say some cheesy pick up line (“so, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?”) although the girl would definitely be surprised, and maybe even annoyed at his seemingly insincere ways of telling her, myungjae would do everything he can to regain her trust in him (aka. making her fall for him, according to his boasting). whenever he spots her on campus, myungjae makes sure to make himself known. he often waves at her from hundreds of meters away, running to her from wherever he saw her from (and ditching whoever he was with, which, most of the time, is poor woonhak) just to strike a conversation with her. he asks her about all kinds of things, like what she’s doing today, how she’s feeling, if anything happened to her in the past 16 hours which he hasn’t seen her, anything. (once, she replied back that she was going to go meet a long distance guy friend, and myungjae immediately got sooo jealous. he would ask all kinds of things, like what he looks like, how tall he is, whether she’s ever liked him in the past or if she does now, how long she’s known him for, etc. she would definitely tease him for being jealous before leaving in a flash, purposely mentioning that she needs to “get ready” for her hangout with the said guy. myungjae is absolutely distraught, to her delight.) but, if she’s feeling down, he’s there for her always, giving her a shoulder to cry on if needed. he provides lots of advice for her if she opens up to him in that way, glad that he was able to be of help to his one and only.

boy #4: han taesan

boy oh boy, han taesan. definitely the type to fall for the girl working at the lp shop that he’s a regular at. taesan was just walking around the shop, seeing if there were any albums that were recently added that he hadn’t seen the last time he was there. that’s when he spotted her listening to the legendary nirvana album (in his opinion), bleach (1989), and she was humming the melody to “about a girl” when he couldn’t help but be intrigued about her. the lp shop was old; taesan was close with the owner of the shop, since the old man had cared for taesan like his own son. taesan would definitely ask about her the next time he sees the man (which is very soon), surprised when he mentions that she’s working at the shop now; taesan came to the shop almost everyday following that short encounter, often staying at the shop much longer than necessary when she was around (and leaving the shop quickly when he wasn’t able to see her at her usual spot at the counter), trying to get a better look at what she was doing or if she was listening to anything else that he enjoyed listening to, too.  the first time that taesan would actually make a move is when he catches that she’s sick from the rapidly changing weather. he spots her erupting into small coughing fits, which she suppresses quickly with a quick drink from her practically steaming tumbler. the next day taesan walks into the shop, his pockets are a little heavier than usual; he’s carrying with him some cough medicine and tylenol, packaged nicely in a clear bag, perfected with a clean note inside (which he definitely didn’t take 15 minutes to write two lines of). when she’s not at the counter, cleaning something at a different end of the shop, taesan slips over and places the bag of medicine containing the note next to her tumbler so she can’t miss it, smiling a little as he exits the shop.

boy #5: kim leehan

would it be a surprise if leehan falls for the girl working as a docent at the aquarium? she's all he’s been looking for; an expert on fish that shared the same love for marine life that he did. i feel like leehan would meet her coincidentally at his local aquarium; usually he likes to stay home and just look at his own fish tank, but that day, he felt like going out. it had been too long since he left the house, anyway; the last time he’d left was a few days ago, when he went to go find some new fishies for his fish tank (if leehan has his fish tank and his phone, he could probably stay at home for a whole month without leaving it once).  usually, leehan is the type to walk around the aquarium by himself; he already knew a lot about most of the fish there, and if he didn’t know anything, he was the type to stand in front of the description for a while in order to read everything about the new fish. but, something about her voice stroke a chord in him; her voice was different from the other docents that he had walked by, and he saw himself just trailing the crowd that was following her, listening to her words that were flowing out of her like she was telling the story about the fish for the first time. after the entire tour, when she seems to go on break, leehan would call out to her according to her name that she had mentioned at the end of the tour, letting the people know that she was always happy to talk about fish if they ever spotted her around the aquarium another day. he would then proceed to question her about some of the new species that had recently been added to the aquarium tanks, piquing her interest in him as well. i think they would meet a couple more times at the aquarium itself before leehan would ask if she would like to see his own fish tank at his house ;)

boy #6: kim woonhak

woonhak is the epitome of boyish love. there’s no denying it… he just reminds me so much of the type of guys that would endlessly tease and poke fun at you just because he doesn’t know how else to express himself. i think the person that he would do this to would definitely be a somewhat calm person… like a student volunteer at his school’s library!! he would definitely fall for her when he’s checking out his textbooks at the beginning of the year — he’s never stepped into the textbook room prior to this (since this was all a new system that the school implemented) and woonhak just saw her working hard, interacting cordially with the kids she knew and genuinely looking like she was enjoying her job there. her genuineness sparked something deep inside of him, and after that day, i feel like he would visit the library all the time. he’s going to memorize the days and periods that she’s working at the library and get out of class during those days just to go to the library and try to see her. because he visits her so often, i just know that they would start to talk and that would just make woonhak fall even more for her — she’s such a passionate individual, always working hard for what she wants to achieve in the future. whenever she talks about her ambitions, woonhak just can’t help but be mesmerized about everything around her; her pretty, sparkling eyes, the soft breeze from the window that tickles her hair, being able to easily tune out the bustling of the students around them as if they were alone, and her voice, making him truly wonder if she was born under the extensive care of angels. at one point, though, i feel like she would ask him why he always visits her but never actually looks at any of the books or the library in general. woonhak’s ears would burn a bright shade of red before he clears his throat, finally asking her out on a date (“actually, speaking of which… do you want to, uh, go out this weekend?”)

reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated ! © luv-y0urself / 2024

[occamstfs]

Terracotta Turmoil

Another muscle growth racial TF! I went with phonetic Chinese rather than using Chinese characters as it feels hotter to me to be able to read the phonetics! Hope y'all enjoy! -Occam

Chase was beyond excited for the opportunity that his museum has recently secured. It didn’t seem possible, and perhaps the provenance isn’t exactly strictly clear or legal, but some donors have ensured that an exhibition is soon to begin. Before that though Chase simply had to sneak a look and wandered into the exhibit’s worksite to closely observe the artifact. 

Upon seeing it Chase is less than impressed with the artistry and history of the object instead thinking of what a score they have wrung from whatever schmuck had it. Chase begins counting dollar signs in his head as he approaches the statue, getting close enough to touch it when he sees a flash in the statue’s lifeless eyes. Keeping his mind ever focused on financial gain his eyes race to meet those of the terracotta statue in front of him where he finds naught but the cold rage-filled gaze of a warrior.

He rolls his eyes and begins to step away to plan the promotions for the exhibit when suddenly he hears a voice in his head, in a language he cannot understand, “Rúguǒ nǐ yào bǎ nǐ de yìzhì qiángjiā gěi wǒ. Ránhòu wǒ huì bǎ wǒ de qiángjiā gěi nǐ” (If you shall impose thine will upon me. Then I shall force mine upon you.)

Chase suddenly scans the room for whatever coworker must be pranking him, though he is sure that none of them know Chinese anywhere near the fluency of his voice. His eyes flicker to the door as it slowly creaks closed with a click, the lock turning by itself. Chase turns with a suspicious look to the statue. His concentration flickers as he once again sees a glint in the statue’s impenetrable eyes. Chase is not a superstitious type but something unnatural was occurring and he wasn’t to be caught on the back foot. 

He is mousy and short but tries to stand tall and puff his chest up at the statue as he starts to engage, “Your, uh yìzhì?”(Will?) Wh-” Despite his meager attempt at bravado he immediately falls back in shock finding himself speaking in a tongue that he never even had a passing desire to know. He stumbles back away from the statue, still facing it. The lights dim in the room and the glitter of the statue’s eyes begin to glow outright, “Wǒ bù xǐhuān shǐyòng nǐ de shēntǐ, nǐ zhège chètóuchèwěi de shǎguā. Dàn nǐ jiāng chéngwéi wǒ líkāi zhèlǐ de ménpiào." (I take no delight in using your body, you utter fool. But you will be my ticket out of here.)

Chase is compelled to make eye-contact with the merciless eyes as they burn a hole into his mind. He is immediately beyond confused and dizzy, no longer sure of anything in the world besides the fact that his condition is only to rapidly deteriorate even further. He feels himself lose control of his mouth as drool begins to pool within it. Little loss though as he is rapidly losing the ability to form any thoughts in English anyway. 

He falls to his hands and knees, mouth agape as he spits up onto the floor. The floor shines like a mirror reflecting the light above as a spotlight onto him and making evident the sinister shine of the statue’s eyes as they continue to burn. He stares at his hands clenched on the floor struggling to latch his mind on any thought that remains. As he struggles suddenly a thought appears through the fog as if it were the most evident thing in the world, Diāoxiàng bù shǔyú zhèlǐ (The statue doesn’t belong here.) 

Chase isn’t even taken aback as his mind starts to return, now using a language he’s never learned. If his thoughts are all in Chinese there is no conceivable explanation beyond that it is the language that he was raised in, but he was gweilo(western) no? He brings his eyes to look at his reflection in the recently waxed floor to see something immediately jarring. His mouth is still ajar, still slightly leaking drool, but his reflection looking back at him has an unmistakable scowl and smirk. 

He recoils, though staying on the ground, as he notices that his short messy hair is starting to grow and straighten. His sandy blonde locks swiftly begin to darken as they lengthen into something far more fashionable. He feels his face respond to the unconscious worry in his mind at seeing his appearance change. In response his reflection bares its teeth as the scowl becomes crueler, the eyes beginning to glow just as the statue’s did. 

He forces his eyes shut to avoid them being penetrated by the burning gaze once more. He is no longer able to open them as he feels his eyelids throb and tighten. Chase grunts and clenches his teeth as pain surges through his face before he forces his eyes back open and is once more greeted with unfamiliarity in his reflection. Impossible to miss were the epicanthic folds that now hang over his blue eyes. He continues to stare at them, seeing his skin begin to pale and smooth as his hair turns black to the roots and his eyes begin to darken, slowly turning brown.

Chase stares at his own irises as they almost move beyond brown to instead be as pitch black as his hair. At the same time a laugh that Chase still recognizes as his own rings through the exhibition hall, though each echo as it returns back to his ears is deeper than the one that came before. He clutches at his hóujié (adam’s apple) feeling it throb larger into his hand. He gasps sharply, feeling more air rush into his lungs as he takes a breath deeper and more labored than ever before.

Now with only one hand keeping him from falling to the ground Chase watches as the eyes of his reflection glow with a rage centuries old, challenging him to not fall on his face as he feels the force of gravity upon him ever-more difficult to ignore. Just before totally collapsing he wrenches his hand from his neck to catch his fall. Struggling against the weight of his body as it feels heavier by the moment, Chase feels his arms begin to strain the sleeves of his dress shirt. Sweat drips from his hair to stain his reflection as his biceps force themselves larger than his shirt could possibly hold. 

Drawing off all the remaining will, or yìzhì rather, he has to resist. He pushes himself higher from the ground rising further than his arms should be able to push him. His biceps burst with power as they grow to the size of a lesser man’s thighs. Sweat drips down his massive arms trailing from thin but present black hair now filling his pits. Chase looks towards his chest and no wonder his breaths were suddenly nigh-impossible, the buttons had already burst from his dress shirt as pecs had forced themselves from his chest and below them abs defined as those you see on only the most prodigious bodybuilders. 

Chase smirks to himself seeing how he has grown. He knew he simply could not let himself fall, his people were zhànshì (warriors) after all. His proud smirk is now truly mirroring his smug reflection. Chase flexes every muscle he can in his more powerful body, feeling the strain of his strength as he tests the limit of each newly formed muscle group. His whole body convulses in pleasure as he becomes acquainted with the power now within him. He feels his hitherto ignored cock grow firm as he feels nothing but pride for his body and his homeland.

He pushes himself fully off the ground to land on his ass as it too grows to break past the limit of his pants. No longer looking at his reflection Chase feels his thighs tear through his jeans and his feet grow large enough to make finding any replacement shoes impossible. His briefs struggle to hold his still growing erection as he continues to bask in his body and power as he finds himself once more sitting in front of the terracotta soldier. 

Rather than seeing it as the financial boon that he intended to when he walked in. Chase now sees it as a testament to the artistry and history that his home country deserves. He feels a fire burn in his chest as rage begins to fill him at seeing such an extraordinary artifact of his culture being subjected to this tourist trap of a museum. His eyes twitch as the last attachments to his old life fade beyond even his subconscious as he remembers the life and history of his real identity. 

Chen was not going to sit around and let this relic of Chinese opulence and power be disgraced by this sorry show. He looks down towards his reflection one last time and sees his face now perfectly mirrors the proud smirk that it has displayed since he first saw it. Chen laughs the same laugh he has always known, one deep and slow, as he stands to prepare his repatriation of this terracotta soldier. First things first though, he’ll need a few new friendly faces, a few new countrymen. He makes for the door whispering to himself as he feels his cock surge in his pants, “Dàodǐ shéi lái zǔzhǐ wǒ” (After all, who is going to stop me.)

[hollowdeath]

some personal n s f w headcanons about harry <3

CW: fem!reader, mentions of rough/aggressive sex, breeding, & public sex

switch. literally the definition of a switch. some days he's completely stressed out and can't seem to catch a break so he takes it out on you. needy, sloppy, rushed kisses leading to aggressive groping and clothes coming off, sometimes ripped off, before roughly using you for his own pleasure. other days he's completely overwhelmed with his responsibilities and just needs to be taken care of. puppy dog eyes and shy gestures leading to soft kisses, breathy moans, and dry humping. harry begging "please, please touch me, need you so bad", whining, pleading, just so so needy and soft with you. loves when you're on top. secretly kinky: being choked, being tied up, anything to give you the control.

oral fixation. i mean, i think we can all agree that harry loves, and i mean loves, eating pussy. you might have to beg him to stop due to the overstimulation, otherwise he would be there for hours if you let him. from soft, firm kisses down your stomach to eager, loving bites on your thighs to full on making out with your pussy, he quite literally lives for the experience. and dont even get him started on face sitting...the way you look down at him and use his mouth for your own pleasure could easily send him over the edge multiple times.

breeding kink!!! this boy loves nothing more than the risk of finishing inside you, it just makes it that much more enjoyable. of course the physical sensation itself feels incredible on its own, but the intimacy it creates between the two of you is what makes it so, so hot. the trust you have in each other makes you only more attracted to the other. whether it's you begging for it or harry telling you to "take it, baby, you take me so well", its almost an unspoken agreement that it's the preferred way to finish things off for both of you. he loves stepping back and watching his cum spill out of you, though most of the time it feels so good he just stays inside of you until he catches his breath.

nudes. oh, how he cherishes his collection of dirty photos of you. like i've said before, i think harry would be really into film photography, and that would include taking photos of you in his favorite poses and positions, developing them, and keeping them in a safe place to look at when he misses you. he keeps his favorite one in his wallet; nothing too vulgar, just something sexy for when he needs a smile. sometimes he stops in the middle of foreplay and politely asks for your consent to get his camera and take a picture of you because, "you just look so lovely from right here". he'll spend the next few minutes taking photos, complimenting you between them as he gets all the right angles. "so, so beautiful. just like that. god, you're amazing."

voyeurism. not a lot of people would think harry is into public displays of affection because he's a bit shy and reserved around other people, but that only makes it more tempting for him. he's always trying to subtly touch you whenever he can get away with it. alone in an aisle of a store? he's already grabbing a handful of your ass. waiting for dinner in a crowded restaurant? his hand's halfway up your skirt. nobody's around in the forbidden forest? he's sure the creatures in there would love to see you put on a show for him. he just can't help himself sometimes, something about letting everyone know that you're his girl and that he isn't afraid of showing them really gets him going.

dirty talk. harry seems like the type of guy to talk you through it, if you know what i mean. he really takes pride in his ability to make you cum just from his words. he knows exactly what turns you on, whether its praise or degradation, and uses it to his advantage often. from "you look so pretty taking me so well, sweetheart" to "just take it like a good little slut" real quick. LOVES nicknames and titles in bed; absolutely loses his mind if you reply "yes, sir" to anything he says. again, he's a switch, so he loves when you take control and talk dirty with him too. he has a particularly soft spot for being praised because all he wants is to be a good boy for you.

[roseykat]

Minsung taking their inexperienced babygirl's virginity omfg-

I actually got SO carried away with this so thank you for allowing me to just dump my entire brainrot about Minsung + inexperienced virgin reader.

They'd be so sweet with her :( Minsung would be so gentle and cautious with the way that they treat and handle her body. To them, she's so delicate and fragile that the thought of the two of them taking her at the same time, is going to seriously hurt her especially since she’s never had sex before.

For them, that just means as much foreplay as they think she needs and then some just to be absolutely sure. Possibly an hour, maybe even an hour and a half just to really ensure that shes anatomically ready to take them.

That makes the foreplay so much fun for her though. She gets to experience her first ever oral orgasm through Minho eating her out slowly. He's not rushing, not going anywhere anytime soon, which really drags out and elongates the length of what it feels like to cum. She squirms so much when he goes down on her! But Minho also has no trouble holding her down around her thighs to make sure she doesn't jump all over the place knowing that it's her first time being sexually stimulated in this way.

He had to really hold back from overwhelming her with his tongue and mouth though bc that man gives good - GOOD head, and Jisung can attest to that. But all he wants is to make sure that she is wet enough for when Jisung lends a helping hand to actually start opening her up.

Despite how wet her pussy is and the saliva leftover from Minho's mouth, Jisung thinks it best to play it safe and use some lube. It doesn't hurt to and lasts much longer than spit does to keep someone wet. So he'd smear some onto his two fingers and thumb, rubbing it together so that it heats up a bit before massaging it around her pussy.

As he gets her nice and slick for his fingers, Minho would decide to sit beside her for comfort. He holds her hand in the process as Jisung begins inserting just the first knuckle of his finger into her hole. Just about every minute, he'd check in on her to see how she's doing and if she wants more or less.

But she's so utterly aroused that she ends up asking for more. Soon, one finger turns into two and Jisung finds himself curling his fingers until he makes her eyes roll back as she cums and writhes around his fingers. Also the praise and body worship would go hard with Minsung. They’re as natural givers as they are receivers, which also extends praising her for doing so well, taking her orgasms well and what not.

However, because this time is special, they want to continue making it all about her. Never mind their own pleasure - there’ll always be another time for that. This is about her feeling good during her first time (even though the minute some type of hot heat wraps around their dicks, it’s hard for them not to lose it from pleasure).

Despite her protests to take them both at the same time, they both reiterate to her that it’s probably not the right time, yet. It excites them inside when they hear that though. So they assure her that most definitely in the future, but for the time being, they fuck her slowly and gently, one at a time. Jisung being the first to ease into her because he would’ve easily cum from just watching Minho fuck her.

Jisung fucks her in missionary which gives him the ability to reach down to rub her clit to help her cum too. Since it’s her first time, they know there’s a possibility that she might not cum without clitoral stimulation. So they make sure to include that but again, not so that it’s going to overstimulate her even though she’s been brought to three orgasms in total, and a fourth which is added to the bag when it’s Minho’s turn.

He fucks her on her side, both of them facing Jisung who lightly brushes her hair out of her face as she would look up to him in desperation. It’s a good starting position that allows for more sensual energy to invade. It’s almost like a back hug but…better, more fulfilling, clearly.

Afterwards, when she’s spent and tired, a little bit sore and now completely overstimulated, their aftercare is what keeps her afloat. Neither of them leave her side on the bed. Minho is still behind her, spooning her from the back and Jisung from the front, who has his arms wrapped around her tired body too. It’s the almost the same when they run her a bath almost twenty minutes later.

Jisung will sit against the wall of the tub and just allow her to lean back and melt into his front while Minho gently massages her legs. Then, it’s changing into fluffy, warm, and comfy clothes, a snack, maybe a hot drink in the mix, and then back to cuddling all together in bed.

In addition, Minsung would hope that she feels content knowing that her first time having sex was with people who end up loving her more than she thinks. That she felt good about the sensations they managed to give her and that she felt good in her body above all else.

[billfarrah]

One thing that’s really rubbing me the wrong way about some people’s reaction to the ending is the way people are talking about Wille. I see comments that essentially imply he is nothing without his privilege backing him, that he has no personality outside of his relationship with Simon and he’s gonna be in for a rude awakening after the ending when he realizes the attention on him isn’t gone just because he’s giving up the title of Crown Prince and life as a normal person isn’t going to be an easy or smooth road.

To me it seems like the message has completely gone over some people’s heads.

No part of me felt while watching the ending that everything is now resolved and Wille will live happily ever after without any adversity ever again… No?

The point is he finally has a choice where he ends up.

Wille literally explains this to the Queen in the final scene - that he’s never felt like he’s had a choice. He didn’t choose to be born into the royal family, and as he points out to his mother, neither did she. The public didn’t choose who inherits the crown. None of them chose it. Wille wants a choice. By staying in this role and doing what is expected of him simply because it’s his birthright is exactly what Wille is actively fighting against.

Another common thread I’ve seen thrown around is that Wille has no personality outside of Simon and I think people need to realize that one’s hobbies and interests do not define their personality. Wille very much has a personality and he had one before he met Simon - he’s always been the type to question the status quo and why things are the way they are. In season 1 episode 1, before Wille meets Simon, we see Wille scoffing at being made to mingle and pose for photos with people he doesn’t know and we see him telling Henry and Walter they’re allowed to have their own opinions when they mindlessly agree with everything he says. If anything, he starts losing this side of his personality because of the restrictions the crown puts on him. Wille falling in line with his expectations throughout the series takes him further away from this side of himself that’s always been there. We see how detrimental this is not just to his relationship with Simon, but with Wille’s relationship with himself. How exactly is Wille supposed to find what he’s passionate about when he’s consistently being told that these are the things he should care about, this is how he needs to look to the public? This is all a very intentional narrative choice to demonstrate why Wille staying in his role is detrimental to his mental health and his ability to grow personally.

The ending is not saying “everything is fixed now and Wille will have a totally adversity-free life with Simon.” Nothing is fixed and nothing is certain, but at least he made a choice. He’s going to stumble and he’s going to continue to make mistakes and a life path is not going to construct itself for him, but at least he now has a choice. He doesn’t have to pick a hobby or interest that’s considered suitable for him. He can get tattoos if he wants to. He can get married or not get married. He can have kids or not have kids. He can go to university and study whatever he wants, and yes, he will still have his family’s money. He’s not gonna be destitute and that is indeed a privilege that Wille is aware of. Should he stay in a role he doesn’t want simply and that makes him miserable because he’s privileged? For all we know, maybe his family will cut him off and he’ll literally be on his own, and that’s a risk he’s willing to take to be, in his mind, free.

The public is not suddenly going to lose interest in him, but at least he won’t have to concern himself with the royal court dictating how he and Simon act or appear. He will no longer feel like he needs to control how Simon conducts his social media presence. It’s very clear in s3 that Wille is not personally upset with Simon for posting the song or the picture with the little boy at the worker’s March - he smiles when he sees it - but that he’s worried what the royal court is going to think about it.

As far as the idea that Wille giving up the crown at the end was indeed for Simon because Wille has no identity without Simon, I really don’t think this is fair to say at all, because Wille was unhappy with his position even before he met Simon. He hated that he couldn’t even do something silly and reckless without issuing an apology. He hated that he had to uproot his entire life because he made a mistake and his family was trying to save his image in the eyes of the public. The thing is, before he met Simon, and before the events of the series, Wille didn’t feel like he had a way out, and funnily enough, that’s for the exact same reason people are dunking on him for now - because it’s the only way of life he knew. He didn’t see a way out and it’s through being with Simon that his extremely narrow view of the world gets challenged and he’s finally able to see a way out. Did Simon inspire him to do what he did? Of course he did. This entire concept is materialized through the scene where Simon tells Wille that he never had a choice who he was born as and that he sees how the monarchy makes him feel. To say that Wille gave it up for Simon implies, to me, that Wille would’ve been happy in the role if not for Simon, which I don’t believe is true. He’d still be miserable but perhaps feel less like he has the agency to do things about it. Getting to be with Simon at the end is certainly a big part of why he did it, but that also just kinda goes hand in hand with his own personal freedom, doesn’t it?

I find it kinda funny how much the internet preaches that it’s never too late to figure out who you are or what you wanna do and I see people acting like Wille is somehow doomed because he’s a 17-year-old without any interests or hobbies. Wille’s entire struggle is with having his life completely mapped out for him and it’s like with him giving up his role people are now questioning the fact that he doesn’t have an entire life mapped out for himself. I spent my time when I was 17 blogging on tumblr and doing nothing else and didn’t go to college until I was 24. I’m 29 now and I’m still learning what I’m passionate about. To treat Wille’s lack of hobbies or interests as some kind of moral failure or indicative of a lack of personality really, really bothers me and to me his lack of interests and hobbies has always been a very intentional writing choice, and the ending, if anything, gives him all the time in the world to figure that out. He might even develop an interest and then realize it’s not for him! The amount of people I know that went to college for what they thought they wanted to do then dropped out because they changed their mind, or graduated from school, couldn’t find a job, and then went back to school for something else is endless. This is all part of the human experience and it’s going to be an entirely new journey for him, but that part of his journey did not a part of this particular story, and in that way, the ending is open. It also helps that regardless of Wille’s wealth and privilege, education in Sweden is FREE.

In the end, the message of the ending is exactly what Boris said to Wille in season 2: we can’t choose who we are born as, but we can choose how we want to live, and that’s exactly what the ending is saying, and that’s what Edvin meant when he said the ending is open. Wille’s road is not suddenly going to be perfect and easy, but at least all of his choices, including his mistakes and struggles, can be entirely his own.

[storiesofsvu]

Communication Error

Alex Blake x reader warnings: mild language, hurt/comfort kinda, usual BAU type of situations and violence.

The BAU had been in San Antonio for nearly two weeks already, the team had been called in a little earlier than usual but the case was striking right from the start. You’d spent hours droning over case files, evidence, cold cases and every chance you seemed to get at the unsub he was always a step ahead of you. The final straw was when he broke pattern, kidnapping the daughter of his murder victims rather than leaving her at the scene.

Tensions were running high, press, locals and the upper brass all beating down on the BAU to figure things out quickly and safely. You’d been in close quarters all week, there was not a moment to be had to oneself as everyone was bunking with someone else and everyone was on edge. There had been far too little sleep, an overconsumption of caffeine and definitely not enough food.

It was safe to say everything about the situation was escalated.

It didn’t even matter that you happened to be working the case with your girlfriend, you and Alex had barely had a moment of peace and definitely not a moment of privacy since arriving and no one else on the team knew you were together. JJ and Garcia had been sharing a room up until a pipe burst in their bathroom on the first and now all four of you were crammed together in one dingy hotel room. You were ‘forced’ into sharing the same bed but your subconscious spent the entire time you managed to get sleep fighting itself in a reminder that you shouldn’t exactly be cuddling. Unable to properly communicate over the week lead to both of you being on edge and there was no relief of a little hand hold, a tender kiss pressed to the other’s temple in reassurance or soft ‘I love you’s’ in moments of need.

When you finally caught up with the unsub in a warehouse on the outskirts of town everyone was on high alert, vests on, guns at the ready and attempting to make a plan about what was going to go down. Garcia had found a back entrance into the warehouse, one that it seemed the unsub was unaware of and it was certain you would be going in through there to retain the element of surprise. Problem was it was only big enough for one person to finagle their way through.  

“Wilson!” The local swat team leader called out and your head shot up.

“Yes sir?”

“I’m givin’ you the lead with this, you comfortable doing that?”

“Yes sir, of course.” You glanced over to Hotch, watching as his jaw tensed ever so lightly before giving you a once over and a trusting nod.

“Are you sure about that?” Alex suddenly asked and your brow furrowed at her, unsure if she was directing your question to you, Hotch or swat.

“I have complete confidence Wilson can do it.” Hotch replied, “I’d expect everyone on the team to trust my judgment.”

“This unsub is convoluted,” Alex continued, “he twists things around, he’s incredibly hard to read, and according to the profile he’s not afraid to take anyone out to get away.”

“And she knows all that.” Aaron nodded toward you and you returned the gesture while swat continued to fully suit you up.

“I just think that maybe a more experienced member of the team should be going in.” Alex protested and this time your head shot up to hers, a mixture of hurt and offended drawn across your face.

“Excuse me?”

“This guy, he’s duplicitous, he’ll talk riddles around you to draw your attention away from what he’s doing to get the jump on you.”

“Oh, so you’re not just doubting my ability to do my job, now you’re calling me stupid.”

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

“And for every second we stand out here while you berate me we’re wasting time and losing the opportunity to save that girl. I’m suited up, I know what I’m doing and last time I checked I didn’t need your vote of confidence to do my job.”

You glanced towards Hotch who simply stood his ground, nodding to you once again before you turned back to swat to get your ear piece put in and were quickly guided around the building. There was only a beat of silence before Alex spoke up again.

“Hotch I really think this is a bad idea. She’s the newest to the team, she’s barely worked three full cases, there’s been more paperwork than unsubs—”

“Blake.” He cut in, voice stern, “you’re out of line. Wilson has almost four years of hostage negotiation with NYPD under her belt, not only does she have a very good understanding of what she’s doing, she’s the best out of all of us to go in there. I wouldn’t even put my own skills above hers today. So you can either head back to the cars, or you can join us in having your team member’s back.”

Alex took a deep breath, sucking down any and all responses she had but Hotch didn’t miss the way her nostrils flared, her eyes tense as she bit her lip and shut up. Instead her hands went back to her hips, one already stationed ready over her gun as she tried to control the way her heart was hammering in her chest. While she certainly hadn’t known about your specific role with NYPD and was a little less worried about you being in there alone, she still didn’t want you getting hurt. You’d been in deep with this one, relating a little too much to the kidnapped victim and she was worried about what you might do to get her free. Now all she could do was wait.

She honestly wasn’t sure if it was the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears, or if there really was that much static over her earpiece. She could hear your hushed voice crackling through every so often as you cleared the first couple of rooms, making sure to check in with your team, she faintly heard something else and by the way Morgan’s eyes shot toward the warehouse she was certain you’d found the unsub. This was the part she hated the most, she wanted to be in there with you, or at least in your ear, guiding you through what could very much help you talk this guy down if your own tactics didn’t seem to be working. It was driving her insane that none of them could hear what you were saying, it was clear you had adjusted your radio to attempt to keep the audio button pressed down, pinched between your belt and hip but it still kept cutting in and out.

If you had asked, she could have sworn they were standing outside of that goddamn building all night, the anxiety coursing through her body causing her muscles to tense, nearly aching by the time Reid’s head shot up.

“She’s coming out!”

In reality it had been just over forty minutes. But those forty minutes had been absolutely agonizing as she prayed for your safety while still trying to focus enough to stay sharp and do her job.

The door to the warehouse booted open and the unsub was the first to appear, cuffs on his wrists, hands on his head. You had one hand sturdy on his shoulder while the other one was being clutched by the girl on your side. Swat hustled in, quickly taking the guy down to the ground while they did a more thorough search before escorting him to the car. The team relaxed, the tension surging through them finally beginning to melt away as you glanced around the lot, beginning to lead the girl over to them.

Somehow, you heard it first and your ears picked up that it was coming from behind you, a shot fired from the roof of the warehouse. There was a cacophony of yelling, screams and very sudden nearly panicked rush of movement. All you could think of was making sure that the girl made it out in one piece, shoving her in front of you as you nearly hit the ground, enveloping her in your embrace.

“GO!” Hotch’s yell was barely audible over your ringing ears, “Morgan take the back.”

Gusts of air raced passed either side of you and a rock must’ve been kicked up, your arm began to sting, pain beginning to prickle through your body. You heard another couple of shots ring through the night air and wrapped tighter around the girl.

“He’s running.” Alex’s voice was suddenly at your side, her hand gently resting on your shoulder and you were able to relax, your hand still tightly clutched in the girl’s.

“Then go!” You urged her, waving in the proper direction.

“You’re hit. I’m not going anywhere.” She insisted and the pain in your arm suddenly increased by a tenfold.

“I’m fine!” You assured her, glancing down to see the tear in your shirt, looking to the ground in front of you, you spotted the bullet, still in one piece and nearly as clean as it had come out of the gun.

“No you’re not. You’re bleeding.” Alex’s fingers delicately tugged at the fabric of your sleeve trying to get a better look at it.

“It’s barely a scrape! Go help the team.”

“I don’t care!” She nearly snapped back and when you finally looked up and caught her gaze there was a misting of tears in her eyes, “you are what’s important to me right now.”

“Okay.” You nodded softly, standing to your full height and scooping up the girl with your non injured side to carry on your hip over to the medics.

Alex couldn’t help herself, chewing on her fingernail as the paramedic urged you into the back of the ambulance for better lighting. She could feel her leg shaking and finally succumbed to the pressure, beginning to pace, her feet kicking at the gravel a welcomed distraction until the medic jumped down from the bus. Her head shot up, catching the moment you dropped down to sitting on the back of the rig, an orange juice in your non injured hand.

“You okay?” She asked timidly, approaching you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, gesturing toward the bandage on your arm, “just a graze, no stitches necessary.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huge breath, the relief flooding through her body all at once so intensely she had to drop down beside you and you were quick to catch her trembling hand in yours.

“Alex… I’m fine. We’re both fine. We’ve both seen and handled worse.”

She made a meek noise, avoiding your gaze as her fingers tapped a rhythm on her thigh and against your palm. A brief silence over took the back of the rig while she calmed herself and made an attempt at sorting her thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke, “I was out of line.” She risked a glance up at you, “please know that I have never and will never doubt your abilities, you’re incredible at what you do. I was just scared. I guess… I guess I was putting personal thoughts above professional ones, and I had no idea about you being a hostage negotiator.”

“It never came up.” You shrugged, “and I shouldn’t have snapped back either.” You smiled softly, squeezing at her hand, “it’s been such a long week, we’re all exhausted. And I know that’s no excuse…”

“Still a contributing factor.” She finally cracked a small smile and you laughed softly, leaning in to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“How did two people with careers built on clear and concise communication skills end up sucking at it when it comes to outside of work?” You asked with a laugh, pulling one from Alex.

“I don’t know.” She softly squeezed your hand, “it’s something to work on.” Her hand wrapped around you, pulling your head to her so she could leave a tender kiss on your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sound of a boot on gravel broke through your little happy moment and both of your heads shot up to find Hotch standing in front of you, a brow raised in your direction.

“If you’d like you can keep pretending the entire team didn’t already know, but in the future I’d hope it doesn’t affect any of our cases.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sorry sir.”

“And I expect that paperwork on my desk by the time we land.” He eyed you for a moment before his lips split into a small smile, “good work today Wilson. I’m glad you have someone like Blake to have your back, even if she does get a bit pushy at times.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your mouth as Alex let out a scoff, Hotch turning away with a gleam in his eye.  

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