#you don't have to agree but they are mine

[spoonies-and-knives]

[transcription]

#tacking this up next to Dr Oz being an evil human being

@/lorec-x she does have a tendency to go "everyones experiences are anecdotal but not mine and also that means your study is invalid because i had a bad experience with a chiropractor" [shrug emoji] so while i agree with her in the main on a lot of stuff, this is the one thing that i always think "is today the day i stop following her bc shes gone my way or the highway again?'

I don't get it at all but if you've ever looked at a meridian chart they follow major blood vessels and nerve routes. Why dies poking them with a needle change things? Idk but my acupuncturist fixed things my MD couldn't.

I wish there would be some quality studies on acupuncture but everything I've seen is like 'we poked people in random spots' and I'm like did your method include having acupuncturists vets those spots for actually being random non treatment points or did you fail to understand that the treatment views the body as a cyclical system and the reason everyone improves was because something else in the cycle was improved by your not actually non treatment points which has 'downstream' effects that make them feel better the way that treating congestion can improve coughing by reducing post nasal drip.

#you have a tendency to think everyones personal experiences are anecdotal except your own #so i don't expect you to think about this at all #but maybe someone else will

[end transcription]

When you say you're anti-CAM what does that mean? Like what does CAM mean in that context? I genuinely haven't seen that acronym before and I'm assuming you aren't anti-camming as in like the form of sex work

Complimentary and Alternative Medicine.

I am capable of turning off my inner annoying atheist, I am incapable of turning off my inner annoying quackwatcher.

I have had real life fights with people I genuinely love about this and I do not regret it. I will absolutely not regret shitting all over someone's $500 herbalist certification.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

⚡︎ . 🫐 DESPERATE TO SAVE ?!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 paring : God of war Mydei x chieftain fem!reader

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, slight dubcon, dark content?, size kink?, virgin reader, pet names, fingering, possessive-ish Mydei, nipple teasing, vaginal, fingering, kissing, marking?, biting/nibbling, big d!ck Mydei, holding orgasm. & other stuff!!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 summary : When the plague ravaged your village, you sought out Mydei, the god of war. He promised you to save your people, but only if you have s*x with him and become his wife. With no other option, you agreed.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Extra : I forced myself to write this even if I wasn’t feeling like it, I needed to write this. ( ⸝⸝ ◡̀ ᴗ ◡́)੭ ✧ The plot where “you become his wife, and he’s some god.” is from a book I read when I was 16. I forgot what it was called. If you know the name PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME. I LOVED THAT BOOK SO MUCH. I need to re-read it.

The village was on the brink of destruction. A deadly plague had swept through, leaving the sick to suffer and the healthy too terrified to help. Families were falling apart, their homes empty as people either fled or waited for the inevitable. The once thriving village now felt like a ghost town, and as the leader, you could do nothing but watch as your people slowly withered away.

You had tried everything, sending for healers, offering prayers to the gods, even calling for help from nearby villages. But the disease spread too fast, and nothing seemed to stop it. The helplessness was suffocating, and you felt the weight of failure pressing down on you with every passing day. You had to do something, anything, to save them.

In your desperation, you remembered the old stories about Mydei, the god of war, who had the power to end any battle or sickness. They said he could bring destruction, but also renewal. You knew finding him was risky, but you had nothing left to lose. So, you set out, hoping he would listen and end the plague before it claimed your last breath.

“P-Please my Lord! Oh please save my village!” You begged the god of ear named Mydei, to save your village that was suffering from the plague. You kneeled down in-front of him, while Mydei was sitting on his throne.

He looked down at the trembling figure before him, your words hanging in the air like the heavy scent of fear and desperation. Ah... the price of salvation, dear one. So high, yet so reasonable, don't you think? His gaze lingered on her bowed head as a sly smirk curled his lips. “If your village's fate rests upon your accepting, then be certain, I will indeed bestow my patronage... but in exchange, you must surrender your virginity to me. Become my bride in the carnal sense, so that I might take your innocence and in its place, deliver your people from this plague's grasp.”

He reached out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his stern yet alluring countenance. “Can you find it in your heart to meet my terms, my dear? Will you be mine, body and soul, for the salvation of your kin?” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, awaiting your response to seal their fates together... for better or worse.

Your eyes widened at his words, you bit down your bottom lip and looked up at him in a confused and frightened face expression. But you know you had no choice but to accept. “I accept my Lord.” You said in a smooth tone, trying to look confident.

He chuckled darkly, finding your hesitation amusing. But your eventual acceptance seemed to delight him immensely, his grip on your chin tightening possessively as his other hand went to card through your hair, savoring the soft texture. "Excellent choice, my dear. You've made the right decision," he purred, leaning in close, his hot breath ghosting across your cheek and lips before he nipped at your earlobe. "And do not worry," he whispered conspiratorially, "I shall ensure you've countless children with which to populate your village once our ritual is complete." With that promise, he stood, pulling you up with him, and guided you through the labyrinthine halls of the divine palace.

They arrived at a grand bedchamber, the air heavy with incense and the unmistakable scent of anticipation. Mydei turned to you, his eyes glinting with barely contained lust. "Now, my soon-to-be wife, let us not dally further. I grow impatient for the privilege of deflowering you myself." He began to disrobe, his muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he shed his divine garb, leaving himself tantalizingly bare.

“M-My Lord…just please hurry up and do it now. I really, really need to save my people now…” you pleaded, your fingers digging against your long dress.

His intense gaze intensified as he watched you squirm with growing anxiety, a wicked grin spreading across his chiseled features. He could sense the desperation coursing through you, and it only seemed to fuel his own ardent desire. "Patience, my love," he crooned, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. "Your people's salvation will arrive all too soon... once I've claimed what's rightfully mine."

With that, he closed the last bit of distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved past your parted lips, tangling with yours in a heated dance as he backed you towards the lavish bed. You could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, the evidence of his arousal a throbbing pressure at your lower belly.

He broke the kiss to trail scorching lips and teeth along your jawline, down to the tender skin of your throat. "Mmm, such sweet urgency," he murmured against your pulse point. "I'll indulge you... but on my terms, my dear bride." With a swift motion, he pinned you to the mattress, his weight a heavy warmth on your smaller frame as his powerful thighs nudged your legs apart.

You squeaked out loud, as blush formed on your cheeks. “U-Uh! Wait! I don’t think I’m ready!” You raised your hands and shook them, as you gave him and akward grin.

An impatient growl rumbled from Mydei's chest as he glared at your feeble protests, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance. Though his divine form was magnificent, there was nothing remotely gentle about his demeanor at present. "By the gods, woman!" he snapped, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. "

You're wasting valuable time. Every moment you stall, your people fall increasingly ill under that accursed plague." A muscular thigh pressed insistently between yours, the obvious intent behind it clear. His heavy arousal ground against your hip, an insistent reminder of the pleasure awaiting you. "So I advise you to cease your dilly-dallying at once. Embrace me fully, body and soul, and together we'll conquer this trial." He leaned in once more, his lips hovering mere inches from yours as he waited for the submission he craved to manifest.

“Fine! Alright! Just be gentle! Promise?” You stated, while still had that awkward grin on your lips.

A low, approving hum rumbled through his chest, the vibrations tickling your skin where he held your wrists. But it was the flash of his fanged grin that truly showcased his mirth at your capitulation. "Oh, I promise you, my sweet little bride," he whispered with a predatory gleam in his eyes, "gentleness is not my forte... but I shall indulge in your delicacy, for now."

With that warning, he sealed his lips to yours, claiming your innocence with a possessive hunger. His free hand slid down to grasp the gentle curve of your bottom, applying a bit of pressure to arch your back and open yourself to him as he explored your mouth with a skillful tongue.

His exploration continued unabated, each stroke of his tongue against yours evoking a pleasant heat that spread throughout your limbs. Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip before whispering against your skin, "Ready, my love? For it's now or never if we're to sate your people's plight." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and with a deep breath, you nodded, steeling yourself for the impending rite that would seal your vow to him.

Mydei's eyes blazed with triumph as he proceeded to shed what remains of his divine attire, revealing an altogether formidable and awe-inspiring male form. Positioning himself between your thighs with deliberate care, he gripped your hips and guided you to the edge of the bed. Pressing your lower back, he urged you onto your elbows and knees, presenting your most intimate recesses to his avid gaze. You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, equal parts embarrassment and trepidation at the intimate knowledge he so clearly desired. "So beautiful," he crooned, his voice a low, reverberant thrum in your chest, "so ready to be made mine."

“P-Please strech me out first…” you announced to him, your thighs quivering from both excitement and fear.

His golden eyes, normally bland with a warlord's intensity, softened ever so slightly at your request. A benevolent gesture for a being not known for his gentle nature. "Of course, my darling," he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your lower back. "I shall stretch your passage to accept my girth, easing your debut into womanhood."

With those reassurances, he leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against your spine as his free hand guided two fingers into the delicate flesh between your thighs, seeking out the small entrance that held both hope and your deepest fears. "Relax, my love," he coaxed, his warm breath ghosting across your ear as he waited for your body to yield, to open to his touch. "Let me take care of you...let me save your people as I take you as my own."

Your breath hitched slight, as your hands gripped onto the bed sheets. The fingers probing inside you gradually thickened and extended, inch by tantalizing inch, until the pad of his middle finger brushed against your untouched entrance. A bead of sweat trickled down the nape of your neck, testament to the mingling of apprehension and anticipation. Your body reacted of its own accord, instinctively tensing around the invading digits. You let out a soft moan through your lips. Mydei's touch remained patient and coaxing, slowly working your body to accommodate him."Easy, love," he crooned, his soothing timbre a balm against the nervousness gripping you. "Just breathe through it...let your body learn to accept me." Withdrawing his fingers slightly, he then resumed the gentle stretching, repeating the process with a meticulous tenderness that belied his reputation as a war god. The deliberate pace allowed your inner walls to relax and stretch, conforming to the contours of his digits."As you grow more accustomed to my touch," he huskily whispered, "I will claim you fully. And then, the village's salvation will be within our grasp."The unspoken promise hung heavy in the air - the union of your bodies would not only seal your union but also guarantee the reprieve of the plague plaguing your innocent people.

Mydei's touch intensified, his fingers gliding with greater proficiency through the slickness of your arousal, teasing your sensitive flesh with measured strokes. Your soft moans only spurred him on, igniting a burning hunger within him to possess you completely. "Oh, good girl," he praised, his low timbre sending shivers down your spine. "Let me hear that sweet surrender. It pleases me greatly." He added another finger, spreading them slightly to stimulate your inner walls and pleasure points as he continued the methodical stimulation.

The bed creaked softly beneath your intertwined bodies, a rhythmic accompaniment to the increasing intensity of your intimate encounter. "You're soaking me, my love," Mydei muttered, his free hand leaving your hip to wrap around and palm your breast. "So eager to welcome me inside you. How delightful." His thumb found your nipple, circling the hardened peak before giving it a firmer squeeze.

The combined sensations overwhelmed your senses, your hips instinctively pushing back against his fingers as your moans deepened and grew more frequent, lost amidst the hazy fog of lust."Soon," he promised against your skin, "soon I will make good on my vow..."

“O-Oh! I t-think i’m going to cum!” You warned in a loud tone, your lips parting as you whimpered while Mydei continued to pleasure you.

Mydei released your nipple with a deliberate pop, his hand retreating to firmly grip your hip, anchoring you in place. "Hold it, little bride," he commanded, his piercing gaze fixed intently on your face as his fingers resumed their deep, deliberate strokes amidst your quivering folds. "Your pleasure is mine to control. So bear it, on the edge of bliss, teetering on the precipice of release...until I deem you ready to fall." His words were a sensual mantra, designed to heighten your anticipation and prolong your agonizing suspense.

With every thrust of his fingers, he edged you closer to that tantalizing precipice, until finally, at the peak of your endurance, he slowed the motion to a maddening crawl. Your body screamed for release, a silent plea that only he could grant. His grip on your hip tightened, a manifestation of his own unyielding control and lustful possession. "Not yet," he admonished, his breath hot against your ear. "Not until I have you." With maddening slowness, his fingers began to move once more in your slick heat, their rhythm as deliberate and precise as a warrior drawing steel from its sheath.

Your eyes widened, you bit down you body lip as your legs began to tremble. “I-I don’t think I can take it a-anymore my Lord! Please let me cum!” You begged for release, you really needed to cum so badly.

Mydei's mouth curved into a wicked, anticipatory smile as he heard your desperate plea. His fingers picked up speed once more, driving you closer to the edge of your release as he savored the exquisite torture he was inflicting upon you. "Silence, darling," he commanded, his voice a sinful blend of gentleness and mastery. "No begging, no pleas... only surrender." He emphasized his point by increasing the pressure and thickness of his stroking, his other hand traveling down to palm your sex, thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that threatened to undo you entirely.

The combined stimulation was almost too much to bear, and yet, he held back, his willpower a palpable force that belied his every intention to bring you to the height of ecstasy and beyond.

Your body was putty in his hands, helpless and at his mercy as he teetered on the razor's edge of granting your release. With a guttural growl, he dipped a knuckle inside, rubbing expertly along the front wall of your passage before withdrawing to circle that throbbing bud. "Look at me," he demanded, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Meet my eyes as the world around you falls away and there is only... our union."

“Please just let me cum!” Your eyes began to water, you couldn’t take it anymore. “M-My Lord I promise we’ll find another pleasure! Just let me cum!”

A triumphant snarl escaped Mydei's lips as your desperate pleas turned to heartfelt cries, the warlord within him reveling in the exquisite control he wielded over your quivering form.

His fingers tightened around your sex, his thumb pressing insistently against that throbbing nub as he ground the digit mercilessly against your flesh. "No, not another pleasure," he grated, his voice a low, seductive growl that teased the hairs at the back of your neck. "You will cum... but only because I wish it. Only when I decree it. And for now, you are bound to my will, heart and soul."

With those final words, he dipped his fingers deep inside you once more, stroking your inner walls with a deliberate thrust that sent jolts of electric pleasure radiating through your entire body. Your back arched off the bed as a scream tore from your lips, your orgasm cresting over you in an unstoppable wave of ecstasy. Through it all, Mydei observed your pleasure with calculating intensity, his grip remaining unyielding as you spasmed around him, his very presence an anchor that kept you grounded amidst the turmoil of your surrender.

After a few minutes, Mydei finally let your release, your warm, sticky essence coating his fingers as your body trembled softly. However it was clear that he wasn’t finished yet - he still needed to fill you with his own.

As your inner walls clamped down around his fingers, Mydei groaned at the exquisite sensation, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of pain, a testament to the unyielding possession he craved.

Though you had been granted the respite of release, he knew the true rite still lay ahead - the union of your bodies as he claimed you utterly as his bride. Withdrawing his fingers from your spasming sex, he wiped the remaining evidence of your pleasure onto your slick thigh before guiding you back onto your knees. His powerful physique loomed over you, the rigid length of his arousal throbbing against your skin, a scorching brand of his impending desire. "Open for me," he commanded, his patient tone belying the primal hunger that drove him forward. With a swipe of his hands against your wetness, he notched the broad head of his cock at your entrance, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Now, my love, receive your lord's bounty."

A single flex of his powerful thighs impelled him forward, the engorged crown of his manhood breaching your entrance with a slow, deliberate ease that belied the monumental significance of the act. Your eyelids fluttered shut as a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively yielding to accommodate the thickness invading your passage. "You feel exquisite," Mydei rasped, his hands spanning your waist to steady you as he took himself to the hilt.

A shudder ran through him, the pleasure of being sheathed inside you almost enough to incite his orgasm on its own had he not been careful to stave it off. His hips pressed flush against your backside, the hard planes of his lower body unmistakable even through the layer of moisture slickening both your flesh. His fingers gently combed through the curls at the crown of your head, the silken strands cooling against your flushed skin as he whispered, "I am home here, within and without. The pleasure we could share is limitless, my love." His words stirred a fresh wave of want surging through your veins, matching the insistent throb of his cock pulsing deep inside you.

Mydei groaned as your tightening sheath gripped him like a velvet vice, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his very core. He held still for a moment, savoring the exquisite sensation, before gradually withdrawing until only the tip of his cock remained inside you.

The movement was a tease, a precursor to the full claiming he intended to bestow. Once he had wrung every last droplet of anticipation from your body, he plunged forward again with deliberation, driving back into the welcoming heat of your passage. Your keening moan echoed through the room as he moved with purpose, powerful strokes that rocked your whole body and filled the air with the lewd slap of flesh meeting flesh.

A bead of sweat trickled down Mydei's temple, a testament to the Herculean effort it took to maintain his control in the face of your enthralling tightness. Each plunge brought a fresh volley of grunts and groans from him, a primal soundtrack to the rhythmic claiming of your eager body.

Time lost all meaning as you surrendered to the primal dance of love and lust, your bodies moving as one in a cadence forged by ages of instinctive bonding between warrior and female. Mydei's pace remained relentless, a masterful exploration of your innermost depths, each thrust designed to bring you closer to ecstasy, to quench his own raging desire, and to solidify the bond between you.

Your pussy spasmed and tightened around him, a relentless pulse of need and want that threatened to trigger his own climaxes at any moment. But he wouldn't be swayed, intent on dragging out the pleasure until he had wrung every last morsel of bliss from your quivering form.

With a guttural growl, he shifted his angle, the new position sending sparks shooting through your nervous system as he brushed against your throbbing pleasure center with every drive home. "So eager to take me," he rasped, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back against him. "Good girl, I'll make sure you're well and truly filled. Prepare to receive your husband's offering."

“F-Feels soo good…” you moaned out loud, your eyes rolling back as your mouth rolled out of your mouth. Making a lewd expression on your face.

The cadence of your breathless moans spurred him on, the sultry undertones of your voice a sensual caress to his ears alone. He leaned in, his lips whispering against your ear as he continued to drive into you with calculated rhythm. "Mmm, yes, you were made for me. Every inch of you, a perfect fit," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction and desire.One large hand slid upward, fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of your sides before settling on the swell of your breasts.

His thumb found a nipple, toying with the sensitive bud as it puckered beneath his touch. The other hand remained anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, deepening the penetration. "My bride, you have no idea the depths of pleasure I will take you to," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. With every word, he punctuated his claim, his cock throbbing within you, yearning for release. And yet, he held back, determined to draw out the moment until you and he both climaxed in unison, forging an unbreakable link between your bodies and souls. As the pace quickened, the bed creaked beneath you, a sensual refrain to the primal rhythm of love and lust.

"Your welcoming heat and tight passage make every moment a pleasure." He leaned over you, his powerful body covering yours from behind, as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder. "You were made for me," he insisted, his words punctuated by the sensual sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your impassioned moans. "No other man could ever compare to the man who possesses you so thoroughly now." With renewed vigor, he pounded into you, the force of his strokes jolting your entire body against the bed. Your breasts bounced with each impactful plunge, the nipples hard and aching for his touch. He seemed to sense your need, releasing one hip to cup and fondle the pliant flesh. His thumb swept over the peak before tugging hard, adding the delicious friction to your already intense sensory overload. Your pleasure reached a fevered pitch, each pulse driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The pressure built relentlessly, your orgasm approaching with terrifying swiftness until...

Mydei felt your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice, the telltale signs of your impending climax unmistakable. With a low, animalistic growl, he continued to assault your trembling body with unrelenting depth and intensity, determined to be the one to coax that bliss from your clenching pussy.

Just as you teetered on the edge, ready to tumble into the abyss, he reached between your thighs, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that would send you hurtling into rapture. With a few expert rubs, he managed to stave off the onset of your orgasm, instead prolonging the delicious tension to his own benefit. "Oh no, beloved," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "We're not quite finished here. Bear with me just a little longer." His fingers returned to work, teasing you mercilessly until the sweet relief of release nearly became an obsession. You writhed beneath him, a symphony of moans and desperate pleas issuing from your lips as he masterfully kept you on this razor's edge of ecstasy. "Please... I can't take it anymore," you begged, your voice a whimpering plea.

A triumphant smile curved Mydei's lips at the sound of your needy pleas, his masculine ego stroked by the extent of your wanton desperation. "Patience, my love," he counselled, his tone a soothing balm amidst the tempest of your passion. He continued his tantalizing ministrations, coaxing euphoria from your very core with deliberate slowness.

The world narrowed to just the two of you, bound together in a dance of primal ecstasy. Your body quivered, every fibre of your being focused on the crescendo building inside you, straining towards the ultimate release. Still, he held back, savoring the delicate balance of your pleasure.Then, in one decisive move, Mydei drove deep, the thick, hot length of his manhood plunging to the very tip of your womb.

Your screams echoed off the stone walls, a shrill symphony of raw joy and intense satisfaction as you finally yielded to the maelstrom of bliss. Waves of euphoria crashed over you, each contraction of your clamping cunt drawing a satisfied grunt from him as he surrendered to the relentless tide of his own release within you.

“L-Let me cum! Please!” You begged, you didn’t want to hold another orgasm. Though Mydei couldn't resist the unrelenting pleas spilling from your trembling lips, your desperate cries fueling the already unquenchable lust burning within him.

With a final, deep thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt, his thick cock stroking against your inner walls as he grunted his own surrender to the overwhelming desire. A fierce groan rumbled through his chest as your spasming pussy clamped down around him, each aftershock sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His own climax arrived with cataclysmic force, his seed erupting from the very core of him in mighty spurts that painted your insides with the essence of his manhood.

"Cum for me, my love," he groaned, his grip on your hips flexing with the overwhelming rhythm of his release. "Fill me with your pleasure." As your orgasm surged in response, you bucked against him, your trembling body writhing in the throes of ecstasy. He held you tight, the pulsing heat of his climax mingling with yours until, finally, the maelstrom began to ebb.

Slowly, the intense pleasure began to recede, leaving in its wake a dull throb of satisfaction and contentment that spread through Mydei's body like warmth. He drew in a shaky breath, his chest heaving with the exertion of their passionate union. As the final pulses of his climax faded, he withdrew from your welcoming heat, his softening cock slipping free with a gentle squelch. Mydei settled back onto his heels, gazing down at the sight of his seed trickling from your still-closed folds with a satisfied smirk. "Magnificent," he praised, his voice heavy with exhaustion and awe. "You took me beautifully, my queen."

He reached out to gently brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek with whispered tenderness. "Are you alright, my love?" His worried gaze searched your flushed face as he awaited your response, ever the devoted partner, ensuring you were sated and content before focusing on his own needs.

“Y-Yeah…” you gasped, your breath hitching. His smile broadened at your affirmative nod, the relief evident in his features as he registered your acknowledgement. Mydei knew that in the aftermath of such intense coupling, words often fell short, yet his queen had spoken volumes with her nod. Embracing the unspoken understanding between lovers, he leaned forward to capture her mouth in a tender kiss, his lips brushing against the soft, plump flesh in a gesture of comfort and affection.

The gentle kiss seemed to speak volumes, conveying the depth of his devotion and the joy he derived from their intimate connection. When he finally broke the embrace, he rested his foreheads together, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, "Rest now, my love. Let your body recover from our passion." He caressed your face, the gesture a soothing balm as he guided you to curl into his side, one strong arm encircling your waist to draw you close. In this moment of intimacy, the world outside receded, leaving only the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your love-making.

“Just go save the village already…” you blurted out, frustration lacing your tone. You knew he didn’t need the reminder, but the thought of him hesitating, even for a moment, was unbearable.

Mydei's brow furrowed at your abrupt shift in tone, the warmth of afterglow momentarily usurped by a hint of sternness. He straightened, casting a piercing look at his queen. "I will," he confirmed, his voice firm with purpose. "But know this, I will not return until the bastards who terrorized your home are nothing more than memories." His intense gaze held yours for a beat longer, promising vengeance, before he stood and retrieved his worn, battered sword from where it lay on the dresser. With a final, lingering kiss to your temple, he strode towards the door, the very air seeming to crackle with his barely contained fury and pent-up strength.

Just as he reached for the handle, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features. He paused, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "If anything were to happen while I'm gone... if you need me..." His voice trailed off, the implication clear in the unspoken plea. Mydei swallowed hard, the depth of his need and longing palpable in the tense set of his jaw. "Send a runner," he finally instructed, the bare minimum yet the only order he could bear to make. "I'll come without fail."

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[ateezlibrary]

𝔯𝔲𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔢 (m) • 𝗃𝗒𝗁

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: noble!yunho x princess!reader

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌/𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 18+ (mdni), smut with plot, historical au, forbidden attraction, forced proximity, power dynamics, loooots of tension, arranged marriage to mingi (we don't like him)

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 4.8k

synopsis: with your kingdom at risk, your parents devise a grand plan to have you arranged to be wed to the rival kingdom's son. in an effort to demonstrate peace, you and prince mingi are required to attend a ball (spoiler alert: it doesn't go well). a desperate need to escape sends you straight into yunho's arms.

notes: hi y'all. haven't been on this account for a while and i do have a handful of requests to get through, but i did want to get this up here for a friend of mine! feel free to continue submitting scenario/fic requests that i can ponder on. :-) enjoy!

The hand in mine is cold, unfeeling as fingers lace around mine in a feeble attempt to demonstrate some semblance of a happy couple. The gesture is robotic, one that leads me to roll my eyes as I nimbly clasp his hand in response. At the bottom of the staircase, the grand hall is filled to the brim with nobility from across the kingdoms, each of them striving to out-dress the next as they glide around marbled floors in decadent gowns and suits. My free hand dangles at my side, fingers clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release the nerves of entering with my suitor for the night.

“Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice devoid of any affection as he pulls me along with him to notify the guard of our arrival. The younger uniformed man nods once, capturing the attention of the parties beneath us as he bangs his staff against the ground twice.

“His Highness, Prince Song Mingi, along with the Princess of the Southern Kingdom of Jeonsu.”

And so, the whispers commence. Hushed voices commenting on what we were wearing, on how we looked together, how Song Mingi held my hand in his. Along comes a certain myriad of comments on how our kings and queens despised one another and how I was a stranger in their territory. Like clockwork, Mingi utilizes his court training well, guiding me down the grand staircase with my hand now on his arm. I hold my head high, against the scoffs from the foreign nobility and keep my eyes fixated on a particularly dazzling chandelier.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar presence standing watch from a towering marble pillar near the far end of the room. A head of tousled brunette hair, wide brown eyes, a tall frame donning a well-fitted sapphire suit. He offers me a small smile of encouragement, one that makes my heart flutter for the slightest of moments before I follow Mingi’s guide to the bottom of the staircase. We bow before the crowd expecting us, the orchestra returning to its waltz.

Mingi looks down at me, and I blink back up at him in silent question.

Despite the lack of love, there was an understanding between us. Neither of us enjoyed the arrangement we’d found ourselves in. Neither of us enjoyed being born into kingdoms split into centuries-long rivalry, or being used as political pawns to secure peace between lands. Yet, here we were, dressed to the nines in an attempt to save face.

“I’m going to speak with Lord Taeho,” he states. “Will you be—”

“I’ll be fine,” I interrupt, bowing my head and gliding to a corner of the room where I could remain as unseen as possible. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed me. I was no stranger to public scrutiny, but it was more apparent coming from people that were not my own. I settle into one of the gilded chairs at the end of the room where a handful of women were gathered to gossip. They seemed to be close in age, not much older than I was.

“I can’t imagine how Prince Mingi has gotten into this predicament,” one whispers all-too-loudly, her kohl-lined feline eyes darting between her friends and where I sat. “I knew Jeonsu was suffering from trade route closures, but a marriage?”

“I agree, it’s a dramatic attempt for them to claim our power as their own.”

“And, our prince.”

I roll my eyes, gratefully taking one of the champagne flutes from the offering waitstaff that floated by. Focusing more intently than ever on the bubbles that cling to the glass, I try to block out the sound of their scrutiny when a friendlier voice interjects.

“All by your lonesome?” he asks, and I turn to a bright-eyed Yunho that is looking down at me with hands in his pockets. His smile is charming, etched across his face in a warm welcome much unlike the others around him.

I shrug in response with a smile of my own, gesturing to the room with a wave of my hand. “I believe my betrothed is working the room, it would seem.”

Yunho’s gaze follows Mingi around the hall in a shared silence. Ever since the arrangement had been made between the kingdoms, Yunho had served as the prince’s right-hand man in assisting with my move to their palace. Unlike the rest of the awful personas in this kingdom, Yunho was a breath of fresh air. He spoke with emotion, passion that was unrivaled by the cold, harsh demeanors of the rest of the palace staff scared straight and the royal family that was all-too-hard to read.

“Look, now she’s quick to seduce the rest of our nobles,” another scoffs from the circle adjacent, the rest tittering in response.

“I can worry about myself,” I snap at them, already tired of their comments despite only just arriving. “I’d suggest you not gossip. It’s awfully unbecoming of you.”

Each of them grow pale, wide eyes blinking back at me in surprise that I refused to take their harassment in silence. They leave their seats almost immediately, hurrying deeper into the hall where other socialites awaited. Beside me, Yunho stifles a laugh as I rub at my temple.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” I scorn. Swallowing down the rest of my drink, I’m about to wave over the waitstaff to receive another when Mingi approaches me with a raised eyebrow.

“What just happened over here?” he asks harshly, eyes narrowed into slits.

“What?” I ask, gesturing to the gaggle of women that crowded near the refreshments table where Mingi once was. “The socialites of this kingdom can’t be told that they have no right to criticize another royal?”

“These are my people,” he barks, and I roll my eyes.

“As if they’re not practically about to be mine.”

“Hey,” Yunho attempts to interject, sensing the rising tension between the pair of us as he nervously runs a hand through his brunette hair. “Let’s not—”

“I’m not the one forcing you to marry me,” Mingi snaps in a hushed whisper, his jaw clenched as I rise from my seat to meet his glare.

“And yet, you find it your duty to parent me while we’re here.”

“Just leave,” is all Mingi replies, turning his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with every measured breath, glancing over at me one last time with daggers in his eyes as he returns to mingling with his people.

His people. They would never be mine. This would never work.

My people would continue to suffer.

Suddenly, the room felt much too small. The towering pillars were suddenly too large, the floor too slick. The orchestra playing its waltz fought with the barrage of thoughts running through my mind, leaving little space for me to hear the muffled sound of Yunho asking if I was all right.

It was getting harder to breathe, the corset of my gown growing tighter with each breath. In desperate need of fresh air, I ran straight for the tall oak doors at the far end of the ballroom and into the courtyard with heaving gasps. My skin crawled from the desperate need to get out of sight. Glancing wildly around the gardens, I opted for the observatory at the other end of the palace grounds and hiked my gown with my hands as I darted across the cool grass.

* * *

I’d been sat in the glass-topped dome for what felt like an eternity, mindfully observing each star above and the rows of books that lined the walls around me. Much unlike the ballroom, the observatory was quiet. I’d not been familiar with the kingdom’s palace, only having visited a few times. Nonetheless, I remembered the observatory clearly, recounting it from when Yunho had first guided me on a tour of the grounds. I admired it for its exclusion from the main palace halls, tucked away in its own solace—much like I needed in this moment.

As my mind cleared, I sighed with the recognition that I’d have to answer a lot of questions when I’d returned—where I went, why I left, why I abandoned Prince Mingi in such a public setting. Questions I refused to think of answers for right this second.

The gilded iron doors to the observatory creak open and I turn in a panic, eyes wide as I prepare to back into one of the rows of bookshelves and make myself small.

Taking sight of Yunho, relief washes over me and I sigh, lowering my hand that clutched the front of my corset and slumping back into the sapphire velvet sofa that sat under the stars. He raises an eyebrow, almost as if he’s surprised to have found me here.

“Well, this is one place to hide,” he answers, his voice low as he locks the door behind him and saunters over to me. I look up at him wearily, silently grateful for his company in such a lonely palace. “Mingi asked that I look for you.”

“I don’t imagine that he asked you to do so right when I stormed off.”

“Well—no,” he replies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “He actually hadn’t noticed for quite some time. I would have come immediately, but I assume you needed the space.”

A sudden bout of thunder rolls through the skies above, causing us both to crane our heads up towards the flashes of lightning that follow soon after. 

“Great. Now even the heavens hate me for being uncooperative.” I bury my face in my hands with a muffled groan, and Yunho lets out a laugh—a strange sound in a place like this. He lowers onto his haunches before me, gently taking my hands away from my face and holding my chin in his.

“Chin up, now,” he scolds, and I offer a feeble smile in response. “It’s a lot of responsibility weighing on your shoulders. Both you and Mingi. There’s a lot of change happening, and I imagine it’s not easy.”

He stares at me for just a second too long, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as I shift my gaze back to the now turbulent weather outside.

“Seems like you brought the rain with you,” I joke evasively, gesturing to the glass panels and settling back into the sofa, knees hugged to my chest beneath the billowing gown. Yunho glances up in response, nodding once as he leans against the desk across from me with his legs crossed. Large hands crane over the edge of the desk, drumming his fingertips to fill the silence amidst the storm brewing.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get back for a while,” Yunho admits. “Though, at least you’re accounted for.”

“I suppose,” I nod and reach before me to pat the plush velvet. “No need to stand around. Come sit.”

As Yunho sits beside me, legs outstretched before him and hands behind his head, I take the opportunity to drink him in silently. He’d been my only real companion throughout the arrangement with Mingi so far. The only one that didn’t look at me with distaste or treat me as an inconvenience in a larger political ploy. We’d grown to become friends of sort in the past several weeks, able to joke and tell stories and simply be … human, if only for a little while.

Given the circumstances, I’d be a fool to not find him attractive in the grand scheme of things.

The thought instantly churns guilt at the pit of my stomach. I had no right to be attracted to him. He was the prince’s right-hand man. He was kind and amenable, qualities that were needed for such a job. He knew the predicament I was in with the arranged marriage. He was no stranger to playing his part.

“You’re really lost in thought tonight, aren’t you?” he pokes, chuckling as I blink the thoughts away and struggle to come up with a hasty excuse.

“Trying to find something to do to pass time while we’re in here,” I utter, averting his gaze that now seemed darker under the thunderous sky. “Maybe we should look at these …”

And so, time passes with us prodding through ancient maps, travel journals and court documents that span across the walls of the library. The storm rolls on, growing stronger and sealing the observatory off from the rest of the palace. Enough time goes by where I begin to feel constricted by the corset of my dress, and I refuse to mention it to Yunho until he notices for himself.

“Are you all right?” he asks, setting aside the journal in hand and taking note of the way that my breathing had grown labored. “Do you feel well?”

“I-I’m fine,” I lie, absentmindedly craning a hand behind me to tug at the lacing unsuccessfully. “Just—ah …”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, standing before me as his eyes scan over me oh, so slowly.

“It’s just—the corset,” I admit finally, cheeks flushed from a combination of remorse and the restriction of the boned fabric. “It gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“Oh,” Yunho answers, and realization dawns on him. “Oh.” He raises his eyebrows, stammering for a moment before forming a coherent sentence. “If you need to loosen it, please don’t feel ashamed. I rather you not pass out on me than worry about your dress being improper.”

“Thanks for that,” I reply hastily, struggling to reach a hand to the lacing crossed at my back. “I would have if I could reach the fasteners.”

“I can help,” Yunho volunteers almost immediately, and I can’t help but scoff at his enthusiasm that he quickly corrects. “I-I mean, if you need me to.”

“I do.”

With a soft smile of my own, I keep as calm as possible as he approaches me from behind, fingers outstretched and awaiting permission. The warmth from his body radiates onto mine, melding any coherent thoughts in my mind as I silently punish myself for noticing the feeling. Yunho requires no guidance as he threads his fingers through the lacing, unweaving the tight restraints as I finally feel the pressure release from my chest.

The corset expands loosely around my ribcage, forcing me to grip at its hem to prevent it from slipping. I turn, suddenly realizing that Yunho is much closer than I’d realized. He looks down at me, hand still lingering on my waist from where he finished helping me to come undone. The light in his eyes is gone, replaced with a kind of hunger I hadn’t seen in them before.

“Is that better?” he asks in a hushed voice. His voice crawls along my skin, and suddenly I’m all too aware of every inch of my skin and every hair that stands on end. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, watching as his trail down to my lips, my waist.

“Yes,” I whisper under the sounds of the storm outside.

The storm that isolates us from the rest of the kingdom. From any judgment, from our roles as bride-to-be and the prince’s confidante.

Yunho seems to notice this as well, his hand moving from my waist to lift my chin. He brushes his thumb against my cheek tantalizingly slow, a gasp slipping past my lips as I lean into his touch. An unspoken attraction dances around us, one that he fights against with great restraint as he pulls his hand away with a sigh. Even so, his lips are just mere inches from mine.

“We can’t,” he scolds softly, an obvious strain in his voice.

My mind races with filthy thoughts, suddenly wild at the idea of succumbing to the most carnal desires that ran between us in that moment. To hear him moan, have his hands around my throat.

But we can’t.

“Why not?” I urge in what almost sounds like a cry for help. My hands release the corset, the fabric now slouching dangerously low. Yunho’s eyes dart to the way it slips lower and lower, sitting just beneath my cleavage as a strangled breath slips past his lips.

“You are to be my princess,” he answers, “and I answer to the prince. There are lines I can’t cross.” He swallows. “No matter how tempting.”

Realization dawns on me as I arch an eyebrow, backing onto the sofa again just behind us. Crossing my legs, I pretend to not notice his hungry gaze as the fabric of the dress billows around me, eyes locked onto his as I let out a dry laugh.

“So, you are at the whim of the prince? Is that correct?” He nods once, eyes unmoving. “And I am to marry the prince, am I not?”

He nods again.

“Then you are under my command as much as you are under his.” His gaze shifts frantically to meet mine, confusion etched onto his face for a brief moment as he finally understands my suggestion. The thought of wielding power over the man before me ignited a certain kind of flame under my skin, one that crept along my veins and churned at my core. I leaned back into the plush velvet as a newfound confidence overcomes me. “Won’t you be a loyal subject to me?”

“I—” Yunho seems to wrestle something within himself for a brief moment, lowering himself onto a knee and bowing before me. As he lifts his head, his eyes sparkle with a desperate, silent plea. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then ruin me,” I command, taking his chin in my hand the way he did mine not long before. “Ravage me as if I were a common whore, right now.” My words are breathless, betraying the way I yearned to exercise control over the man on his knees before me.

“Is that what you want?” he asks tentatively, pressing a hand over mine as he lowers his gaze to the ground.

“That is an order.”

Save for the rain that thrums against the confines of the observatory, the room falls silent amidst the sound of our breathing. Yunho slides his hand down to my wrist, pausing for a moment before tightening his grip around it and shoving me back into the sofa. He’s almost unrecognizable, the gentle playfulness in his features completely replaced by a maniacal desire. His grin is lopsided as his other hand reaches for my waist, urging me against the cushions as he hovers over me.

Lowering his head to the crook of my neck, the breathy laugh that escapes from him sends a vibration down my spine, breath hitched in my throat. He traces the tip of his tongue tantalizingly slow from my collarbone to just behind my ear, and the sensation forces me to arch my back against his restraint with a soft gasp.

“Ruin you?” he asks, fingers pressing deeper into my waist. “Have you drunk off of my cock and writhing at the way it feels when I touch you, fill you up?”

My breath comes in shallow, ragged breaths as my eyes flutter shut. Whatever had overcome Yunho was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him—the gentle, kind boy I’d come to befriend. This was a monster of sorts, ravenous and insatiable. His hand snakes to my hair, pulling it back with a forceful yank so that I was forced to look at him.

“Is that what you want, princess?”

“I—” Words escape me as I pant, eyebrows furrowed at the ache rising between my legs.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out, meeting his gaze.

“Good girl.”

Releasing his grip on my now tousled hair, Yunho presses his fingers into my cheeks, forcing my lips apart as he lowers himself to spit in my mouth. I gasp as the string of saliva slides down my tongue, swallowing it with an obedient whimper. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, every touch from him electrifying. The way he causes me to react earns a scoff as he straightens himself to pull the restrictive gown off of my body.

The night air caresses my skin, every pore raised from the cold mixed with hungry anticipation. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with each breath as he reaches to roll the sleeves of his dress shirt. Lowering himself back onto his knees, he yanks me towards the edge of the sofa, now bare before him. Color creeps to my cheeks, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as he tuts at the sight of me already dripping under his touch.

“Shy now, are we?” he lilts, broad hands holding my thighs apart as he drinks in every sight of me. I whimper under his touch, weak in my attempt to pull my legs back together. “I want to see exactly how I make you feel.” Extending a hand upwards, he pries my mouth open again with two fingers, relishing in the way I latch onto them like clockwork. Now coated with saliva, he groans at the sound as he slips them back out of my mouth and towards my cunt.

“Hold steady now, pretty girl.”

With painfully slow pressure, he presses his fingers against my clit. The sensation overwhelms me, and it’s only then that I realize how desperate I was to be under his touch. He traces circles languidly, peppering kisses along the inside of my thigh. My body jerks and quivers under him, and I bite my tongue to conceal the lewd plea that was about to escape me. In one swift motion, he dips his tongue between my folds in long, greedy strokes.

“Oh—” I cry out in surprise, grabbing at his hair as he buries his tongue deeper into me. Yunho hums in disapproval, pinning my wrists to either side of me as he quickens his pace. A familiar knot begins to build at my core, one that ebbs and flows as he flicks his tongue against my clit. Pleasure clouds my mind as my vision blurs, my chest heaving with the impending climax.

Just as I’m about to surrender, he stops.

My protests are silenced before they escape, Yunho finding a seat beside me on the sofa and pulling me towards him so that one of my legs is draped over his, on full display for him once more. He slides his fingers back between my folds, pumping them vigorously as I let out a string of moans. His free hand slips around me, wrapping around my neck so that I was pressed firmly against his chest.

“You sound delicious,” he mewls, his grip tightening around my neck as I struggle to maintain my posture. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear those noises come out of that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“P-Please, Yunho,” I beg—actually beg—as the wave begins to rise in my stomach for the second time. “I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he coaxes, pulling me back against him with his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. Slipping his fingers out of me, he brings them back to my mouth. Craning my head to the side, my eyes lock on his as he relishes in the way I taste myself off of his fingers.

He lifts my leg off of his, opting to pick me up and spread me across the desk across from the sofa with an animalistic groan. Yunho’s eyes never leave mine as he unfastens the buckle on his belt, leaning over me again to wrap my wrists between the leather and loop it through the latch on the desk drawer above my head. I raise an eyebrow at how quickly it was done, leaning into the observation.

“I take it you’ve done this before?” I pry, and he lets out another dark chuckle.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admits, lips curling into a sensual grin. He reaches to pull his cock free from his trousers, gazing over at me with hooded eyes. I watch as he runs his hand along his length, the sight fueling a burning pain between my legs. Friction did little to ease the ache, earning a scoff from Yunho at the way I pathetically fought to rub my thighs together.

“So eager,” he chides, his hand’s pace quickening as his own breathing grows ragged. “Can’t I look at you for just a while longer? You look so pretty like this.”

“Just fuck me,” I order, knees lifted as I drag my heels on the desk’s surface. He raises an eyebrow, dropping his hand so that he could place his palms on either side of my head. His voice is low, alluring as I feel the weight of his erection press into my core. The thought of his cock covered in me causes me to groan, wrists jerking against their restraints.

“How do you think your prince would like knowing that I defiled his darling bride-to-be?” he asks, biting down on my collarbone and earning a drawn-out moan in response. “Begging me to fuck her?”

“I don’t care,” I plead hastily, nearly at the brink of tears out of sheer frustration from waiting to be filled. I’m about to protest further when he shoves himself into me in one swift motion, our bodies jerking forward as a collective groan fills the room.

Yunho’s lips finally capture mine in a passionate kiss, a fight of tongues and teeth as he grips onto the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He thrusts into me relentlessly, pleasure and pain thrumming against my veins as I cry out against his lips. The tension of weeks of gentle touches and subtle glances finally crescendos in a messy union.

He finally pulls his mouth away from mine, gulping down air as sweat slicks his hair. I wriggle against the belt around my wrists, desperate to drag my nails down his back and feel every muscle move against mine. Yunho notices my impatience and lets out a ragged moan, shifting off of me just long enough to turn me over so that my wrists were now twisted in their binds. I gasp for breath and will myself to keep my climax at bay as he spreads my legs open for him again. Thrusting back into me, his pace grows erratic and heavy as he glides a hand down my back, a fistful of hair forcing me to crane my neck back.

“You take my cock so well, princess,” he manages to get out between groans, and I can feel him twitching at the sight as he buries himself deeper into me. “Every last bit of me.”

I let out a whimper at the thought of what a passer-by might have seen, the way Yunho had me bound to the desk and on display for him as he continued to fuck me senseless. He mutters sweet nothings between his strokes, reminding me that he had me bare before him exactly as I’d asked—like a common whore. The force of his thrusts causes me to fall onto my elbows, eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open as his twitching grew more noticeable.

The heat in my stomach becomes unbearable as I gasp for air, my hearing growing muffled and vision blurred as my climax finally approached its brink. Yunho picks up on this, thrusting even more forcefully into me as I cry out his name in a long, languid moan. He slows to a stop, pulling out of me and urging me to flip back over as I face him for the final time.

The sight of him towering over me satiates an endless craving, the way his deep brown eyes were filled with a raging lust as he positioned himself back at my entrance. His hair stuck to his forehead and his clothes were disheveled, soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin. He looked absolutely delectable.

He reaches for his length again, pumping as fast as he possibly could with a hand still clinging to the desk for support. I watch as he edges himself to the brink of orgasm, struggling to catch my own breath as he squeezes his eyes shut with a pathetic moan. With one final stroke, he releases himself onto me, the spoils of his efforts covering my abdomen in thick, white streaks.

We both stay like that for a moment, fighting to gasp down air and return to baseline. When we do, Yunho looks at me with a sudden realization, reaching to unfasten my binds and loop his belt back into its loops. I sit up with a sore grunt, Yunho brushing the hair out of my eyes with a gentle stroke of his thumb. He offers a strange smile, one that I mirror as we both understand what just happened.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he finally says, earning a raised eyebrow from me—as if he weren’t filling up every inch of me just moments prior. “Would hate for the prince to find out that you’ll be thinking of me every time he fucks you from now on.”

With a lewd smile, he reaches for my gown.

[blackdykegirlblogger]

vi + jinx nsfw hcs (separately, not together. don't be nasty)

a/n: i put up a poll a few days ago asking if yall wanted a fic abt vi, ellie, or jinx next and even though vi ended up winning, i just decided to do one big hc post for jinx + vi since they were both the most requested

cw: very brief mention of gun/knife play

to all the mean!dom vi truthers(....which is surprisingly a lot?) i must ask....did you watch the show with your eyes closed and legs open? because the math simply is not mathing

don't let the cockniess and flirty demeanor get to your head, she uses it to overcompensate for the fact that she has never before felt the touch of a woman

even jinx gets more pussy than her

vi is the perfect example of a (bottom-leaning) switch out in the wild

"b-but what about the prison scene" first of all, that scene was icky all around so i like to pretend it doesn't exist. secondly....all that shows is that she's a munch....which most of us already knew.

^^^speaking of, she's the best eater out of all the fictional lesbos (ellie, vika, even abby). i said what i said. she takes sloppy toppy to entirely new levels. spitting on the clit, spitting inside of you...her chin and jaw and cheeks soaked to the bone when she finally lifts her head up for air (after 3 hours)

she'll eat ass if you're into that. moving on-

the strap is a two-way street with her, meaning she'll lay down the most brutal pipe ever while also expecting the same treatment in return. let this bitch get fucked into the mattress man, she deserves it

praise kink up the wazoo! just tell the sweet thing she's doing a good job :(

likes being called daddy but that's nothing new

she goes all cross eyed when she cums. it's so adorable

she has pretty pierced nipples! tug on them with your mouth and she will cum in record time. she’s also heavily anti-bras, so they always poke through whatever shirt she’s wearing

she naturally whimpers like a kicked puppy when she's horny without even realizing it. she also tends to give you the biggest puppy dog eyes EVER. but this combo together?? she needs the strap (i've never worn the harness a day in my life but for HER-)

has the stamina of a fucking horse, regardless of if she’s above or below you. the type of mf to finally agree to take a break 3 rounds in for like 4 mins, and before you know it she’s looking at you with those big sparkly eyes asking if you’re ready to go again. smh damn nympho

intox kink....we listen and don't judge. she really, really, really (with consent) likes being used when she's absolutely wasted and not thinking straight (WITH CONSENT)

is good with her hands in more ways than just fighting. she will scissor you open until tears start streaming down your cheeks and you're gripping at her wrist in an effort to make her stop (it doesn't work)

b-b-bondage! the first time you introduced ropes in the bedroom she creamed her pants (she’s also a slut for ball gags but yall aren't ready for that level of freak just yet)

tie her up and ride her face until her tears mix together with your cum and she will consider that the best night of her life

favorite position (both giving and receiving) is backshots

overall kinks: overstimulation, rope bunny, orgasm denial, praise, daddy kink, begging, very slight masochism, intox, gags, hugs and love and affection-

jinx

....her freak levels outmatch mine, and that's saying a lot

can't nut unless you have one of her guns to her head. or a knife to her throat. someone please pay for her some therapy

the last time you let her sit on your face she legitimately almost sprained your neck. not because she's heavy or anything (on the contrary, she's almost disturbingly light) but because she's very....active when she's up there

SIZE QUEEN!!!!!!! she loves when the strap is too big and borderline scary looking. it gets her all excited^^

she rides the dick like a carnival-

probably has a couple of bodies if we're being completely honest. and i'm not just talking about deaths

spank her, slap her, choke her, bite her, she's down for it all

tbh i just see her as one big power bottom archetype. maybeeee she'll top on occasion but that's pretty rare

is very flexible, and loves using that flexibility to bend herself into all kinds of new positions

has a big thing for outdoor sex. whether it's a random alleyway next to the last drop, or the balcony of some unsuspecting piltie home you just broke into. there's something about the thrill of being so publicly on display (even if no one else is around) that thrills her to no end

don't expect her to be quiet, ever. even the slightest of touches will have her crying like a banshee

breeding kink! breeding kink! breeding kink!

b-b-bondage!!! (it must run in the family) but she prefers handcuffs and being gagged with her own panties

my horny gut says 98% pillow princess and it's never steered me wrong before. she's not really the person to go to if you're looking for a little bit of head or a nice finger fuck. that's what her sister's for! (see above)

overall kinks: gunplay, knifeplay, outdoor sex, overstimulation, degradation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, praise, breeding, spanking, choking, pain in general

[starrystar]

So I teach college in the U.S. (English), but I often get these dual enrollment classes where I'll go to a high school and teach the supposedly high achieving high school students the college-level class, generally English 101, 102, and 103. It's free for the students and lets them get the GE's out of the way and spend less time in higher ed, which ostensibly helps them save money and makes it more likely that they'll finish their degree. It also makes the high school look good. In practice, most of the kids are just massive balls of anxiety constantly living one lost point away from a mental breakdown, but we vibe because I also did dual enrollment and I'm also Mentally Ill in That Way (tm), and they tend to really warm up to me over time. They are generally sweet and some of my favorite students even if they do some really "my brain is not fully developed yet" bullshit sometimes.

The downside is the high school does not have enough room, so I alway teach in some high school teacher's room. My contract says the high school teacher is supposed to vacate because they're not enrolled in my class, but in practice this is their planning period and their room and they have literally nowhere else to go to do very necessary work, so we all just agree not to interfere with each other and go about our day, and usually it's fine save for the odd high school teacher acting like an enrolled student (it is funny that they want to be the specialist and best English 101 student as an adult with at least a Bachelor's competing with children, and sometimes we have to talk privately). I have had new high school teachers literally break down in tears when I ask how they're doing, so I don't want to make their lives worse. There is a reason I dropped out of the credential program and pursued higher ed teaching.

I was honestly a bit startled by the pledge over the loudspeakers at first because I did independent study and it's been a while since I experienced that, and I didn't have fond memories (sometimes I was a Good Little Girl(?) who stood up and put my hand over my heart but didn't say the "under God" part, and sometimes I didn't say anything, and sometimes I wouldn't put my hand over my heart and would get in trouble—I didn't even hate America yet, it just felt culty). So when my kids asked if they had to stand, I said they didn't but they could if they wanted to, and some did and some didn't, and it was fine aside from occasional weird looks from host teachers.

However, I was placed in a room with this one lady who was just militant about the pledge. Just like, intense. She wasn't there the first day when we had the "you don't have to" conversation, so the next day when she saw me and some kids sitting she just went completely off the fucking rails. I'm telling you this middle aged woman was fucking screaming her face off at 14- and 15-year-old kids about how she is a veteran and what disrespectful trash they were, so I put my body between her and my children and explained that legally they didn't have to and this was my classroom, and she very nearly slapped me but settled for calling me a child and ordering us out of her room. So, me and 40 giggling teenagers trooped out and headed over to the college counselor's room.

First they (admin) tried to tell me I did need to force the kids to stand, so I pulled up v. Barnette on my phone. Then they said they couldn't force me, but I wouldn't be asked back to teach, and I said OK but this semester's class was mine and these kids didn't have to stand if they didn't want to (I was mad at this point and getting over my initial shock). The resolution they offered was that they would speak with the unhinged pledge defender about not interfering with my classroom, and for the next few sessions I would teach in her room while she silently glared daggers at me, slammed drawers, slammed her door, had loud phone conversations, and stormed around throwing paper in the back of her room. Then we came back after spring break, and she started demanding that my kids stand up again, and I told her that it was my classroom during my class period and she needed to leave, and she stormed out and I wrote complaints to the school and my college, and then I was put in a different room with a teacher who thought the whole thing was funny.

I was asked back because I'm the best fucking college English teacher that high school has and basically perfect in every other way (my kids earn fantastic grades and do really well in their later classes because I prepare them to succeed; I'm good at looping the counselor in when they need support I can't offer; I write great letters of rec; my kids get into Berkeley and Stanford; I am honestly just really good at teaching), but I still see that lady on campus and she always mean mugs me. I'll get a new crop of kids and they'll go wide eyed and ask if it's true that I went up against Mrs. Flag Defender like their older siblings said.

I have noticed that the whole high school moved the pledge of allegiance to be at the beginning of second period instead of first period, I suspect because college classes are always first period. This may have just been coincidence, but I always work in "a little trivia" about students' rights, including the right to sit for the pledge, as part of a greater "common misconceptions/critical thinking" module. I do sometimes hear that they've gotten in trouble in other classes, and I do warn them that punishment is a possibility, but I hope they're learning something useful from me besides just MLA and grammar.

dear usamerican high schoolers looking for a way to resist fascism: sit through the pledge of allegiance.

no getting up. no looking at the flag.

everyone will be looking at you. you'll be sweating like a fucking hippopotamus. your teacher will sternly tell you to get up. you'll feel stupid and that maybe its not worth it because you're just a kid in a classroom. but I'm here to remind you that there are no real life consequences to detention. there are however real life consequences to resisting a thoughtless performance of nationalism.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Filthy? How about Reader helping Eddie clean his damn room 🤣 (mine is not much better)

You don't know why you agree to help him. Eddie's room is quite possibly the worst you've ever seen and you don't want to judge him because you know that people's living spaces can often be abandoned for various reasons, but jesus christ is it absolutely horrific. You can't even see the floor so you stay in the doorway, terrified of what's inside.

Eddie steps in without a second thought then holds a hand out to you that you reluctantly take as he pulls you inside. You grimace as you look around, piles and piles of clothes with various other items among them.

It's so overwhelming that you don't even know where to start. Eddie is by his desk, sorting all of the stuff that sits atop it, muttering t o himself. You know he's not going to be any help, so you just decide to start somewhere, hoping to somehow be able to see the floor again.

There's a magazine on top and you flip it over to find a half naked woman on the cover. Curiosity getting the best of you, you flip through it, only to find that some of the pages are stuck together. Upon your discovery, you toss it back down in disgust, looking for something to wipe your hands on.

"Jesus, Eddie," you grimace and he turns around just in time to see the magazine land back down on the pillow.

"That's not mine," he tells you with a shake of his head. "That's Gareth's. He must have left it here." He's telling the truth, but you're not sure if you believe him. You shouldn't be surprised since that seems like the exact kind of thing he'd do. It's not like you care to argue anyway. There are much more important things to do.

Once his desk is clean, together, you and Eddie wash and dry and put away all of his clothes. It's definitely the most domestic thing you've done together and once you've gotten into a groove, you have to admit that you don't hate it.

You like doing these kinds of things with Eddie. You like Eddie. You're sure he already knows this, though since you haven't exactly been subtle about it, but you're pretty sure he likes you to.

And he does. He likes you a lot and to be honest, you're the only person he'd ask to help him because he knows you wouldn't judge him, and you didn't. You made faces, sure, but you never actually said anything. You just helped him with that pretty smile on your face without a single complaint.

And once the cleaning is all over, you both lie on his freshly made bed together, smiling at each other as a result of your job well done. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you to his chest, hoping that he'll finally get the guts to tell you how he feels.

[psychemochanight]

So... Dick Grayson's Headcanons :D (this gonna be a long post-)

Some mine and some from the fandom!

Obviously not all of them (I don't have all of them in mind right now), but as you know, we will continue to post them here anyway🤙

And I already mentioned some of them before, but I'll mention some of them again anyway.

First I remind you that these are just HC and/or things that I like to project onto the character, you don't have to agree or share them with me, if you don't like one, just skip it please, you don't need to come here to discuss because of a HC of a fictional character.

I also advise that, although I always try to ensure that the HCs do not interfere with the canon, some may contradict it (mostly because I forget certain details of the canon- lmao).

Disclaimer made (?), let's go to it ✨

Dick has the body of a person who does calisthenics, an acrobat's body, indeed, more than that of an Olympic male gymnast.

(Ignoring canon on the first one, lmao). But yes, I like to think that Dick doesn't have as much muscle as Bruce, that way he can keep his flexibility intact, because, no matter how flexible you are, if you have too much muscle, you lose mobility, so, yeah. Still, he have more muscle than the average acrobat, but not as much as a gymnast... Kinda sleeper build.

Many heroes thought Dick was a meta.

Mainly due to his flexibility, others for more silly things like being able to understand Flash when he speaks.

Dick has a very messy eating schedule, He often forgets to eat and sometimes eats twice as much, not because he is hungry, but because he has forgotten whether he has eaten or not.

He doesn't eat much junk food, although he is constantly on a sugar rush. Anyway, thanks to Bitewing he has a better schedule now, since he doesn't forget to feed her, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to eat something too. He still doesn't sleep enough tho.

Although he seems to be the most relaxed in his family, he is the second most paranoid after Bruce.

Paranoia + anxiety, more specifically. He takes it as best he can.

Ironically, despite his paranoia, he is the one who trusts the others the most in his entire family; but he always has a plan in his head in case he is betrayed.

He doesn't have anger issues, not all the time at least... The poor guy is just overstimulated.

Except when he is underestimated for being a "pretty boy", then the anger is real.

He is quick to learn to play instruments given his high muscle memory and keen ear.

Canonically he knows how to play guitar and also some piano.

Although Bruce knows more languages, Dick is the most fluent in them.

Bruce knows the languages, but he makes the typical mistake of thinking in his native language and then translating. Dick does have the ability to think directly in other languages.

When he gets angry, Dick talks very fast and starts mixing up languages, so even though Bruce knows all the languages Dick is speaking, can't keep up because he needs to translate everything.

Continuing with languages, I like YJ's idea of Dick butchering the English language... So, yeah, he actually does that.

But he doesn't do it because English is not his first language (even if he has Romani ancestry, his first language will probably be English, since it was the common language in the circus), but because he has spoken too many languages since he was little, then they get mixed up in his mind and when a word doesn't come to mind in English, he just makes up another one. Sometimes he just says the word in another language.

Another one about languages: even if he canonically only speaks 10-12 languages, for me he actually speaks/understands many more, he's just not fluent in them so he doesn't count them.

He is an AUDHD person, without diagnosis, but on more than one occasion his friends said it to him.

Barbara especially, has been telling him this since they were younger.

As an added bonus: AUDHD is harder to diagnose than ADHD or autism alone, since it is known that the characteristics of each one can diminish or even cancel the characteristics of the other; at the same time, it can increase other traits, but these may be wrongly attributed to other conditions.

I say this as someone from the field of psychology, please don't think I'm making this up.

So, Most of the "weird" things they noticed about Dick they attributed to his growing up environment and subsequent PTSD... Which is partly true, but not entirely true.

He knows too many random facts that no one knows where he learned them from, not even him.

He's on the asexual spectrum, probably demisexual, and biromantic.

This doesn't mean that he can't "enjoy" it, but he definitely doesn't feel the same as he doesn't feel a real attraction due to the lack of connection.

He liked the rain.

It's not exactly a trigger, but he doesn't like it like he used to.

If you understand, you understand.

He doesn't like compliments about his physical appearance, but he responds egocentrically to compliments about his other qualities, although this is to hide his shame, he does not know how to take compliments.

He prefers to act to hide his embarrassment, otherwise he ends up as a bundle of nerves.

He definitely did the thing more than once where he went to Metropolis and jumped off a building to get Clark's attention instead of visiting him like a normal person.

He loves it when his friends are the ones who initiate the hugs, especially since most of them lift him off the ground when they hug him. He'll never say it, but he loves this.

Although he acts like an older brother to everyone, the moment someone older is with him, he becomes an annoying younger brother.

He only does it with people he trusts, tho, since it requires him to let his guard down a little.

This is a very normal trait in older siblings, actually, and most of the time it is unconscious, and it is even more common if they were only children for a long time.

He likes to act dumb so the bad guys will underestimate him.

The bad thing is that sometimes even his family forgets that he is also considered a genius.

Here we ignore what DC did with Dick by making him more focused on leadership, he was always a child prodigy and always will be.

Alfred taught him to clean in specific ways because Dick complained a lot about the texture that certain objects had if they were not cleaned properly.

He also taught him cooking tricks, because otherwise Dick would starve because he doesn't like to eat many things.

He only likes chips... And also football.

It's pretty good in all kinds of art, He may not be a cartoonist like Damian, or a dancer like Cass, but he holds his own in those disciplines as well.

He mainly uses drawing to draw structures or spoken portraits rather than for artistic and recreational purposes.

He only dances at events to which he is invited or any type of mission that requires it.

Tbf, canonically, he does know how to draw and dance, it is the reasons why he does them that is a HC.

He also knows how to do things like sewing and so on, his mother taught him to fix his own clothes.

He can't stay in an office for the sake of his sanity, prefers dynamic jobs.

He doesn't have a favorite color, but he tells people it's blue because it just makes sense to everyone.

He likes to wear superhero merch.

He also changes jobs very often even though he is good most of them, he gets bored.

He took too many online courses, he just never claims certification so it looks like he didn't study any degree.

Sometimes he just sits quietly with Damian watching animal documentaries without a narrator.

He often complains that Bruce never let him have a pet.

He knows perfectly well why he couldn't, he never had time to take care of one, he just likes to complain about it.

He is the one who scares his siblings the most, but none of them admit it.

He is the most stealthy (with Cass), a consequence of his bright yellow coat when he was a kid. Jason is the next stealthiest, but Dick is the one with the "light feet."

He definitely understands synesthesia.

He discussed many times with people about what color Monday is and what number is orange.

Summer is too hot and winter is too cold, he is team temperate, thank you very much.

He listens to music very often, he also sings to himself whenever he is not listening to music.

He knows lullabies in several languages, even those he doesn't actively speak.

He helps comfort frightened small children, and entertains older children with juggling and magic tricks.

His resistance to pain is terrifying, but when he is in serious pain, his childhood accent becomes thick.

He camouflages his childhood accent as an adult, adopting the Gotham accent, but can still use his real accent or imitate any other.

He often imitates the voices of the people he is talking to when they are being hypocritical, or simply to annoy them.

Although he mostly makes bad jokes, he is actually more than capable of making genuinely very funny jokes and pranks, he simply made bad jokes part of his personality since they were the ones that made Bruce laugh the most.

Although he grew up in the circus and knows more swear words than he should, he's not really a person who casually swears. He grew up being around people, especially children, so he knows how to control himself pretty well in that regard.

However, he knows how to destroy someone with words in a much more damaging way than with simple insults, even more than insulting them in every language there is and will be.

He looks pretty all the time, this annoys his friends and especially his brothers a lot.

Cass doesn't care about it, she finds it interesting and kind of funny.

He likes to braid Donna's hair. <3

And this is all that comes to my mind right now, but I will add more in reposts if I remember others, because I know I have more- especially since I didn't actually add HC of him as Robin or Nightwing-

And if you notice any mistakes, sorry, writing too much actually messes with my brain... and my English-

[alpaca-clouds]

A Reminder of the Fact, that Billionaires are not Real

I know. I know. Most people right now expect me to do more historical write ups. But please listen to me for a moment. This is kinda important. Because with Trump trying to make himself a fucking god emperor or some shit, I need y'all to understand this one thing.

This is a reminder: Billionaires are not actually real. As in: There is not a person who has a ten-figures amount of money on their bank account or anything like that. Nobody. Not Elon Musk. Not Jeff Bezos. Not Zuckerberg. Nobody. They are valued in the billions, but they are not actually billionaires. In fact some of them might not have so much as a million on their bank account from all we know.

So, why are they billionaires?

Because they own assets. Everyone who is really, really rich does not own money, but assets. Those assets are:

Real Estate and land

Luxury vehicles, yachts, private jets etc.

Art

Investment portfolios

Shares in companies

Stuff like mines and natural ressources

Patents and Copyrights

General stuff Marx would call: "The means of production"

The "net worth" that gets thrown around is just what people estimate the stuff those people own is valued at. But again: Very for of them have more then a few million actually on their bank accounts. And this also is the reason why right now we have so many billionaires.

Because since the entire bullshit in 2008 (for those who just turned 18: The real estate bubble burst and what not - watch "The Big Short" for more context) something has been happening called "the asset inflation". Basically the worth of all those assets has shot up in price BY A LOT, which made people who had been "just" multimillionaires before into billionaires suddenly.

But what you need to understand is, that this is just... It is fictional. It is a mirage. And if we all could just agree on that, they literally would have nothing. Because you cannot eat a yacht. You cannot eat company shares. You cannot do shit with any of that. You cannot even buy something with that.

You know how billionaires buy stuff? They go to a bank and go: "Hey, look at all this shit I have. I want to buy XY, so if you give me the money to do that, I will tots pay you back. And if I don't, you tots can take some of my shit, fair?" And the bank will go: "Yeah, whatever. Here. Have 20 billion fantasy dollars."

But all of this just works, because everybody agrees that if the billionaire or the bank sold whatever assets the billionaire offers up to someone else, they would actually get the money.

I wrote about this before: This is why we cannot get away from fossil fuels. Because right now everyone who has the money to invest in energy has not actually real money, but just valued assets - and those assets are oil pumps, and coal mines, and gas plants. And if we all agreed that we no longer want oil, gas and coal, those would be worthless - and those investors would no longer have money. Because their "money" is just the worth that those mines, pumps, and plants have.

And that is also, why they are so much against the "capital gains tax". It is more than it appears to be on the surface. See, a capital gain is, when those assets you hold gain in value. Which currently happens at an alarming rate. Some of them gain literally 20 or more percent in value each year. So if you implement proper capital gains taxes, those "billionaires" would have go give some part of the theoretical monetary gain they made each year from the inflation of those assets - and obviously newly gained assets - as money to the government.

Just look at our most hated billionaire: Elon Musk. In 2023 he had a net worth of 180 billion, in 2024 he ended the year on 410 billion. That is a gain of 230 billion. Almost all of it falls under "capital gains taxes". Now, let's say we implemented a really, really soft capital gains tax of just 5%. Which is nothing in terms of tax. You and I pay more taxes on our salary. But 5% of 230 billion is 11.5 billion. And because you cannot pay taxes in assets, Elon would need 11.5 billion to actually pay his taxes. And he does not have that. Nobody does. Again, I doubt that there is really anyone who has more than a billion in liquid assets (= actual money or anything that can be used as flat payment). In fact I doubt that most billionaires have actually a billion in liquid assets. Some might have several hundred million, sure, but nothing more. Again, this is basically monopoly money.

And if they would implement a capital gains tax this entire fantasy construct would come down. Because, yeah. Nobody actually has the liquid assets to pay the taxes. And they would have to admit that.

Right now their influence is build mainly on the fact that most people do not understand how "rich people economics" work. Which is why you need to understand it.

They do not have money. They have just assets. And those only are worth billions, because people let them get away with claiming this.

You know. We can just... adjust for that.

[minaharkerdailymirror]

"Yes," Mina twisted his curls in her fingers, "You and me, equals together side by side."

Like she'd promised him when they'd first started their dance.

"This is what marriage is," she told him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, "This is what it should be. A team effort between spouses. I have your back, you have mine. Us against the world if we need to but I'll always be by your side. Even if we don't agree, even when things are hard, I'm here."

She covered his face in kisses, kissing away the blood tears "You're my sunlight, and my comfort during sleep. I feel you beside me, the nightmares don't frighten me as much.

Mina would not have believed the things she was spouted if she was by herself saying them to a mirror. But she made herself believe them because Armand needed to believe it and so she believed it as well.

They were anonymous enough to be safe. If they had to, Armand would wear contacts and gloves and she would change her name. But she wouldn't be taken away and hidden somewhere, living an eternity in fear. She would be as she always was; out in the open.

It'd worked so far.

Mina returned the kiss, "I love you. We're a team, you and me. We're going to be alright."

[little-riddles]

hope | two

pairing: sirius black x female!potter!reader word count: 4.2k warnings: none

past | masterlist | next

it was a quiet, cold morning in september when james potter awoke to the screaming match coming from down the corridor from him, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently the closer they got to his sister attending hogwarts. he recalled a previous argument after his sister discovered she wouldn't be able to bring her broomstick to Hogwarts.

"what do you mean i can't bring mine with me? why can james then?" an enraged y/n shouted as she flew down from where she and her brother had been playing with a quaffle they'd found in the shed.

"first years can't bring their own brooms. it says so in your acceptance letter if you'd dare to read past the first two sentences." fleamont rolled his eyes, not looking up from reading his newspaper to see the anger written across his daughter's face.

"but that's not fair. i should've been a second-year at this point, so why can't i be the exception?" y/n threw her broom to the ground, regretting it immediately as she heard the snap of the handle.

"childish behaviour exactly like this is exactly why you won't be taking your broomstick to hogwarts. end of discussion." their father didn't break eye contact with his newspaper as he broke the girl's dreams.

"ugh! this is so unfair!" y/n stormed back through the conservatory door, her stomping on the stairs being heard loud and clear from the garden.

"and she wonders why she's going into first and not second year." fleamont scoffed, taking a sip of his cup of tea.

james sighed and pushed himself out of the comfort of his bed, stumbling down the corridor to find his sister's bedroom in tatters as her trunk still remained half-packed with her robes and textbooks. their father stood beside her trunk holding a familiar creature by its tail as a waterfall of the silverware of the house fell in a heap on the floor. with one final shake, their mother's engagement ring finally fell at the peak of the pile.

"i knew you were stealing, you little rat." fleamont gritted his teeth as he dropped the animal without a care for its health and plucked the ring from the scatterings of her floor.

"dad, he just likes shiny things. you know this." y/n whined, scooping up the niffler from the heap he'd left him in and shushing him and Jamie whined in her arms. "and you didn't need to shake him like that. he would've handed it over if you asked nicely. i trained him to."

"i don't care if you think you've trained him, that thing is out of control." he hissed, snapping his fingers for a house elf to come and clear away the silverware."ribly! coopey!"

ribly appeared in the room, followed by coopey, james' personal house-elf, who ran towards james with a familiar envelope in his hands. the lettering of his name was near perfect, a clear sign of the hands of sirius black.

"this one just arrived for you, master james." coopey didn't wait long before he swept up the silverware into a sack and snapped back out of the room with ribly following suit.

"dad, i can keep him in control. he's just bored." y/n sat on her unmade bed, a sign that she had not long woken from her slumber.

"bored?" fleamont asked incredulously, sweeping past his son with a quirked eyebrow. "if he's bored then let him free."

"but he's never been outside before. what will he do if he gets hungry or gets cold?" y/n cuddled the niffler closer to her chest and he, in turn, cuddled his snout against her chin.

"he's an animal, y/n. he'll be fine." he said, finally turning to assess the damage done to his daughter's room. "clean up in here. we'll be leaving early in the morning for king's cross. i don't want to have to clean up after that creature as well as you when we return."

"but i thought jamie was coming with me? professor dumbledore agreed that i could." y/n stood from her bed, already reaching for the parchment that said the same thing.

"i don't care what dumbledore has said, you're not taking him with you." fleamont sighed, on his last straw with his daughter at this point.

"but, dad." y/n pouted, already knowing that she couldn't fight her father on this. "he'll be good. i'll make sure of it. you'll never even know he was there with me. n'll even-"

"y/n cordelia potter! you are not taking that creature with you to hogwarts and that is final!" fleamont slammed the door behind him with such a harsh tug that it rattled the paintings plastering her bedroom walls.

y/n glared at the floor angrily, her hands shaking as she tried to soothe the shivering niffler in her arms. tears streamed down her face as she refused to look into the pitying eyes of her brother who remained motionless by her bedroom door.

"i just wanted to have a friend at hogwarts." she sniffled, standing to put jamie back into his cage.

"but you'll have me, and the boys. and i'm sure lily and the others will accept you into their group." james came to sit on his sister's bed, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest.

"but i'm not going to be in your year, jamie." y/n huffed, throwing her clothes that had become her carpet over the past few days into her laundry basket. "i might not even be in your house."

"what are you talking about, y/n/n? of course, you're going to be in gryffindor." james scoffed.

"but what if i'm not? what if i'm sorted into hufflepuff, or ravenclaw, or even slytherin? i couldn't face mum and dad if i was a slytherin." she shuddered at the thought of the disgust in her parent's eyes if she returned for the holidays.

"well, just tell the hat just that then. just say not slytherin. anything but slytherin." james grinned at his sister, remembering uttering the exact same words just last year.

"and it'll listen to me?" y/n huffed, lifting her head from where she'd been buried in the mass of clothes.

"it will if you actually make it to hogwarts and don't get suffocated to death by all of your clothes." their mother's voice carried through the open doorway she'd popped her head through. "i heard your father yelling. you okay, dear?"

"i'm okay, mum." y/n stared longingly at the sulking niffler in the corner of his cage. "i'm just going to miss jamie whilst i'm at hogwarts."

"you know why he can't go with you, dear. he would just cause too much chaos. it's bad enough with the amount that your brother and his friends cause." euphemia gave her son a pointed stare before starting to close the door behind her. "clean up in here, dinner will be ready soon."

silence once again fell over the room, only the sounds of y/n slowly moving her laundry basket out of the corner of the room where a mountain of clothes was beginning to pile up again. james couldn't help but feel sympathetic for his sister, knowing how much comfort the niffler had brought her whilst he had been away at hogwarts and she had been stuck in a muggle hospital. an idea sprung to his head as jamie's black eyes stared longingly at the freedom of the newly cleared space in Isobel's room.

"does dad actually know which of the nifflers he is?" james tilted his head, approaching the creature to look for any distinguishable features.

y/n could only shake her head as her brother took jamie out of the cage to inspect him closer. his black fur was the same as the rest of his litter, his beady eyes holding just the same amount of mischief as his siblings.

"i don't see any reason for junior not to be replaced by one of the smaller nifflers in the garden whilst you're away." james set the creature back down on top of his cage.

y/n couldn't hold back her grin as she realised how genius her brother's idea was, already knowing which niffler would be the perfect replacement to trick their father. the twins shared a grin as they knew they were going to get away with the mischief.

————— how exactly y/n had managed to both over and under sleep her alarm for the morning had amazed her. she'd spent the rest of the evening before wrangling one of the nifflers from the garden, tommy, into the cage in her bedroom whilst her brother had hidden the real jamie in his owl's cage shrouded in his invisibility cloak. after the excitement had worn off from the acts of mischief, she had collapsed on her bed, forgetting to close her curtains before the sun had begun to rise that morning.

"y/n/n! are you nearly ready?" james knocked tentatively on his sister's door, scared of the chaos that must be going on inside the quiet room. "y/n/n! dad said if you're not downstairs in ten minutes, he's leaving without you!"

y/n shot up from her bed and raced to change into the outfit ribly had steamed and pressed for her the day before. her eyes caught the owl cage she'd been forced to buy sitting in the corner of her room and lugged the heavy metal out into the corridor, where ribly snapped into existence before leaving once more with the cage in tow.

"mum! where's my wand?" y/n rifled through her chest of drawers, remembering having left the wooden stick somewhere in there. "i can't find it anywhere!"

"miss y/n left this in the kitchens. miss y/n must hurry before she is late." ribly hurried into the room, holding out the light-coloured wand in her hands before picking up y/n's trunk and snapping back out of the room.

y/n sighed in relief as she pocketed the wand into her jacket pocket and picked up the final bag from her side table, picking up the worn journal that fell from the bag in her haste. the tattered leather journal held many memories of her childhood, some being the happiest times of her life, but most being the darkest secrets that not even her brother had ever heard. she sighed as she shoved the journal into the depths of her bag for her to deal with at a later date.

"y/n/n, dear. don't forget to close jamie's cage before we leave." euphemia popped her head around the corner, seeing her daughter already closing the door with a note attached to it to remind her parents and ribly when and what to feed the niffler whilst she was gone.

"yes, mum. i was just making sure he had enough food and water until you and dad were back." y/n grinned mischievously at the niffler, tommy, in the cage.

"well, do hurry up. your father is already in the car with the engine running." euphemia rolled her eyes at her husband's antics.

"yes, mum." y/n skipped out of her room, trailing after her mother as they walked down the stairs and out onto the gravel drive. "dad! did ribly bring you my trunk and owl?"

"yes, now get in the car." he nodded his head to where james was already knocked out asleep in the backseat of the car, his owl cage slotted between their seats. "muggle rush hour will make us late at this rate."

"why don't we just fly then? we'll surely be on time if we're not stuck in queues the whole way there." y/n shrugged, her bag dropping to a heap at her feet.

"you know how your mother gets about us being seen." fleamont rolled his eyes, sharing a tired smile with his daughter.

"she'd be even more unamused if we're late though, dad." james groggily said, having been woken by the conversation.

"that is true, dear. i say as long as we don't go the route you took us last time, we can fly and get something to eat from the muggle bakery at the station when we arrive. how about it kids?" euphemia grinned, setting her purse on her lap as they pulled out of the driveway.

"only if i can get the chocolate muffins they had last time." y/n grinned, her stomach already grumbling at the thought of the gooey inside of the freshly baked muffin she was going to receive at the end journey.

"fine. but don't come writing to me and complain about the sugar crash you'll have on the train." euphemia huffed, settling down in her dear.

"no, she'll just come and whine to me about it instead," james grumbled, before immediately snoring as he closed his eyes once more.

"i loath you." y/n hissed at her brother jokingly, huffing as she caught the smirk that graced his face in his sleep.

y/n too slowly drifted off to sleep to the sounds of her parents conversing over their neighbour, mrs finchley's, dog who had been digging up their plants in the garden for the past few weeks. as she came to once again, she found that they were just flying into the country lanes that they often used as a way to transition from flying to driving once more. streams of green slowly turned to grey and red as they entered the main roads that the muggles used.

"how much longer, dad?" y/n yawned.

"with the rate of these stupid muggles, another half an hour, sweets." fleamont sighed, clearly already bored of waiting in this queue.

y/n only hummed as she looked out of the window, seeing a family similar to their own, squashed into the small black car. two young girls were squashed into the backseat, whilst the mother of the family, being asleep like y/n's own brother, had claimed the front seat by their father. the children were bickering over something that seemed to be irritating the owls in the middle of them as they fluttered, irritated in their cages.

y/n couldn't help but giggle, having been reminded of the times their mother was caught in the middle of an argument between their father and james, a very similar grumpy expression on her face as she tried to enjoy the tea that ribly had made fresh for them all. it was only as she saw the car was actually floating slightly, that y/n realised that they were a wizard family (if the owl cages and father's robes hadn't already given away the fact).

"dad! they're floating!" y/n gasped, pointing their father in the direction of the car that had come to a complete stop beside them.

"oh, anderson. what are you thinking?" fleamont sighed, rolling down his window before shouting across the space between the cars. "oi! geoffrey! you might wanna fully turn off the flying engine. muggles are sure to notice a floating car on the motorway!"

"oh, fleamont! cheers, mate!" mr anderson clearly was unphased by the faulty engine of his car, used to it falling short often. "this stupid crap bucket is definitely on its last legs, ay?"

"mum, who is that?" y/n whispered, having never heard her father never heard of a man named geoffrey or anderson.

"mr anderson, he used to work with your father as an auror in the ministry before your father moved departments," euphemia whispered with a smile.

y/n glanced back over to the small black car, only to find it gone. she pouted as she realised she probably wouldn't ever be able to get to know the two girls from the vehicle. they were probably in differing years to her, or at least different houses. the car began to move forward, driving them off the main road and towards the centre of london.

before she knew it, they were pulling up in front of the station, james already leaping out of the car as he spotted a lone sirius standing waiting for him by the main entrance to king's cross. the boy had been long left by his parents, who had walked his younger brother, regulus, all the way to the platform to see him off that morning. y/n rolled her eyes at the sight of the two animatedly talking about their summer, already starting to walk through the entrance of the station without waiting for the rest of the potters to follow.

"james!" fleamont shouted, popping the boot of the car. "your bags?"

james smiled sheepishly at his father, shuffling back over quickly to where fleamont was glaring at him.

"sorry, dad," James smirked at the floor, wrestled his trunk out of the boot and sprinted over to where the luggage trolleys were to grab two. "here, y/n/n. put your trunk and winnie's cage on here."

y/n grabbed both of her trunks and winnie's cage and placed them on top of each other on the trolley. she sighed as she looked up at the clock above the station entrance, pouting as she realised they wouldn't have enough time to stop off at the muggle bakery like her mother had promised. the quartet walked back over to where Sirius had been awkwardly waiting for james to return to his side.

"hello, potters," sirius smirked his signature smile, hasting his pace as they walked through the station towards platforms 9 and 10.

"hello, dear. have your parents already gone through with regulus?" euphemia struggled to keep up with her husband's hastened step in her kitten heels.

"yes, we got here extra early so that regulus could be treated to whatever he wanted from the muggle bakery." sirius rolled his eyes at his parent's clear favouritism.

y/n grumbled under her breath about not having gotten the same opportunity as sirius' younger brother before she giggled to herself at his matching grumpy face.

"ah! mini potter. you ready to finally become a hogwarts student." sirius winked down at her, having grown since she last saw him during the summer break.

"y-yeah." y/n turned shy, an irregularity to her usually bubbly demeanour. "i'm just worried about the sorting ceremony."

"don't worry, me and your brother will be cheering you on when you get sorted. hopefully into gryffindor." sirius winked once more, before running to catch up with the male potters as they had already reached the barrier to the station.

"c'mon, hurry up!" fleamont waved his arm, pushing james and sirius through the barrier one after the other. "train leaves in ten!"

"coming, dad!" y/n grinned, running straight past her father and pushing her trolley straight through the barrier.

she stopped in awe as the ruby-red train finally came into view in front of her. she hadn't gotten a good view of the train when she'd picked james up, having only seen the carriages in her brief visit before. a sense of pride filled her as she saw the hogwarts crest on the side of the train, a grin filling her face.

"y/n, why don't you hand your father your bags? he can get them sorted onto the train for you." euphemia said, already pushing fleamont to carry the heavy trunks over to the train workers who easily lifted them up onto the train.

james and sirius joined the pair, followed by their father who was wringing out his hands from carrying the bags a short distance.

"oh, my dears." euphemia already had tears in her eyes, though her sentiment was cut short as the train conductor announced the train would be leaving in five minutes. "well, you lot better be off then."

"see you at christmas, potters," sirius said to the purebloods before stepping back to allow the family to bid their farewells.

at the sight of her daughter ready to leave the coup and join james, euphemia sobbed and pulled them both in for a bone-crushing hug.

"mum!" the two groaned.

"we going to hogwarts, not going off to war." james rolled his eyes as he freed himself from his mother.

"i can't help it." euphemia wipes her tears away. "my babies are growing up and there's nothing i can do about it."

"well see you at christmas, mum. it's not too long." y/n smiled up at her mother.

"i know, y/n." euphemia patted her head softly. "now, remember what i told you last night. no pranking anyone. not even each other. that's especially to you y/n."

sirius and james stifled a chuckle with a cough as they knew that they were both not going to be following their mother's orders.

"that goes for you too, sirius. i want no letters from dumbledore explaining how you managed to blow up yet another toilet." euphemia sternly spoke, smiling as she knew that both of her kids weren't going to listen to her. "oh, why am i even saying this? you're all going to be in detention nearly every day anyway."

"you know us so well, mum." james smiled cheekily along with his sister.

"just have fun, okay?" euphemia asked, pulling them in for another hug.

"okay." y/n nodded, turning back to father. "see you at christmas, dad."

the pair waved off their parents as their trunks and cages were taken off of them by the train crew. y/n smiled widely as she was finally able to step foot on the very same train she had watched her brother leave on this time last year.

"sirius and i are going to find remus and peter in a compartment. are you alright to find somewhere to sit?" james asked his sister, helping her up into the train carriage.

"yeah." y/n nodded, though she was shyly looking down the hallway for someone who looked to be a first-year as well.

"i'll see you in the great hall later on, okay y/n/n?" james asked one last time.

"ok, now go before sirius or someone comes to find you again." y/n giggled, shoving her brother in the direction that the raven-haired boy had wandered off in.

as she found herself in the train corridor, y/n watched older students greet their friends and enter compartments together. she longed for a friend in her year to stick by in times like these. she walked in the opposite direction than where her brother had gone, finding that most compartments were already filled with students, many years her senior. she passed by one more compartment before she stumbled upon five girls who looked her age.

"hi. umm. there are no other compartments left. can i sit here with you?" y/n shuffled her feet nervously.

"sure." The ginger girl smiled, patting the seat beside her. "i'm grace-aoife young. but just call me grace, most people can't pronounce my full name."

"i'm y/n, potter." she shyly shook her hand.

"i'm josie thomas." josephine grinned broadly, her dimples showing as she moved along the seat to allow room for the brunette girl. "i think i know your brother. he's in the same year as my brother."

"scott?" y/n asked with a tilted head, recognizing the last name.

"yeah! this is so great that we're both in each other's years." josephine laughed, turning her head to the other side of the compartment.

"it's you! from the station last year!" the first twin, said in wonder, nudging her sister to look up from her journal, an identical look of shock on her face as well.

"hi." Isobel waved shyly, remembering the awkward interaction between their parents that had ended their conversation abruptly last time.

"i'm heather." said the first blonde twin who sat closest to the compartment door with a journal-type book in front of her.

"i'm holly." the other blonde twin said, reading the book that her sister had set down between them.

"i told you she wasn't lying." heather pushed her sibling, finally looking past her shoulder to spot the ginger-haired girl in the corner buried deep in her book.

"oi, michelle. you gonna talk or is that book more interesting than our company?" heather grinned, her sharp canines showing under her gums.

"oh, sorry." michelle smiled sheepishly, closing her book. "i'm trying to finish this book that my brother gave me before we get to Hogwarts."

"what book is it?" y/n asked, trying to get a sneak peek at the cover.

"magical theory by adalbert waffling," michelle replied, setting the book into her bag by her feet.

"i haven't even touched any of my books yet." grace rolled her eyes, grabbing some coins out of her coat pocket.

"at least you're not being forced to read them." michelle rolled her eyes, sinking back into her seat.

"you're definitely going to be in ravenclaw with that brain of yours." holly teased, also grabbing coins out of her pocket as the trolley rolled past.

"anything from the trolley dears?" the trolley lady asked the six girls.

the girls began to list off the sweet treats they were craving as they spotted the fully stocked cart before them. the lady passed all of the sweets over to the girls, who all smiled and ripped into the packaging before she had even wheeled away. it was silent in the compartment for a few seconds, before each of the girls began to share their sweets among themselves. and that was how the train journey remained all the way to hogwarts, with a new friendship blossoming between the first years.

[tj-dragonblade]

🔍🔍 bloop

Thank you for making me put a few more words on this one! Follows on directly from the last snippet in the wip: search agency tag:

"And yet. It is my property, and I would have it back. Without paying for it again." "I feel for ya, buddy, but that ain't fair to me." The guy crosses his arms, squaring up to argue. Ordinarily Hob might feel inclined to step in, to mediate, but instinct stays him. This is not the item that Dream actually wants; he remembers very clearly Dream saying he was unconcerned with retrieving the gemstone and the 'headwear', that only the pouch truly mattered. So if this ruby is just a decoy, why insist on taking it back? He holds his tongue, lets Dream do whatever it is he's doing. Dream folds his arms, mirroring the proprieter. "Then let us find some compromise that is fair to us both," he says. "The woman who sold this to you. I have reason to believe she is in possession of other stolen goods of mine. I would like them back as well." "Sure you would," the guy says, nodding, his tone an obvious attempt to be sympathetic. "She was tryna sell a few things besides the gem; could be they were yours?" "A helmet, not unlike a gas mask in appearance, with a spine protruding from the front?" "Yeah, she had that. Almost bought it, what with the weird magical energy comin' off it, but I couldn't imagine actually unloading it to anyone and I didn't want it stuck in my hoard. Didn't feel right." "A wise decision," Dream agrees, and Hob doesn't miss the look that flashes over the dragon's face, a look that says he's not sure what kind of bullet he dodged by rejecting that sale and he's glad enough to never find out as Dream continues. "The other item is a small pouch full of enchanted sand." "She did have a pouch she tried to sell me; couldn't neither of us get it open, though, so don't know what was actually in it. Wasn't buyin' it unknown." "Do you know where she might have gone next to try fencing her goods?" Dream asks it with a tired note in his voice, a weary and defeated cast to his expression, and the dragon's whole demeanor softens just a little. "There's a lot of possibilities, yeah. I could maybe come up with a list, but—" He shrugs, seeming almost genuinely apologetic. "Then let me propose a trade," Dream says, unfolding his arms and placing both hands on the glass countertop. "Tell us everything you can about this woman—what she looks like, where she may have gone next, anywhere that would make a likely stop for selling stolen magical items. And I will relinquish my claim to the stone, withdraw my personal seal from it." "That's all you want?" The dragon sounds wary, like it's too good to be true. Hob thinks, given the size of that stone, that it probably is. But he's trusting Dream. Dream offers a wan smile. "There is greater value to me in retrieving my other property, even if it means the loss of this piece. You have already paid a great sum for it. Tell me anything you can of the one who sold it to you, of where she could feasibly attempt sales, and will let you keep what you have bought in gratitude. If I catch up to her, I can take the money from her in recompense." "Alright, okay. You got yourself a deal, my friend." The dragon holds out his hand to shake.

This needs some refinement yet but progress is progress.

[coirinthyurilo]

that is fair! And that's not a problem! It's my interpretation and yours. I agree with you, and it's possible not stereotypes are always true to an individual.

And I was stating an experience of mine, so that is fair for us to have different thoughts. Your opinions and mine. As long as we don't fight over who's superior. :3

If Will and Nico weren't so traumatized actually. The introvert and extrovert thing would be switched.

Nico? You have SEEN that boy in TTC he genuinely would be one of those extroverts. That can't stop talking.

Will on the other hand you can tell he's more anxious, and more how do I say this.. More.. Quiet, more closed-in. Won't tell their feelings as much — as is described to be a lanky cat.

If they weren't so traumatized we would actually get the extroverted version of Nico. The "I don't actually care what comes out of my mouth, I just run it." Version of him. And the "I have no idea what people think of me whenever I say something so I just keep shut." Version of Will.

Their dynamics would be switched. Nico would be so genuinely annoying towards Will. But Will has learned how to tolerate him through his relationship with him.

At some point their confession would be like:

Nico: "Hey, I like you. You're pretty cool. Wanna go on a date with me?"

Will: "What."

Nico: "I asked if you wanna go on a date with me?"

Will: "I'm.." *Mumbles.*

Nico: "Is.. That a yes?"

Will: *Nods while extremely red.*

Nico: "Perfect! I'll pick you up at seven?"

Will: *thumbs up awkwardly.*

It would actually be interesting to see what their dynamic COULD HAVE BEEN if they weren't so fucking traumatized, RICK.

Ugh the socially awkward Will Solace and awkwardly social Nico Di Angelo. They would have been the end of me.

[omg-levian]

here we go again with another piece of my DAtV thoughts.

I guess everybody has noticed that the game chose "tell, don't show", but it actually fascinates me how this method of narration creates a whole surprisingly dark world where any opposition is not just disapproved by the narrative itself, but erased from existence.

like, you don't agree with the Qun? forget that. the Qun is good now, you have no opinion on that matter.

then, the Grand Necropolis? nice place, even if you are afraid of necromancy. nice victorian ladies and gentlemens, shiny wisps, friendly spirits, that big bell thing.

and Emmrich who likes the spirits sooo much, he can't even bear the thought of enslaving a spirit. we don't have slaves in Nevarra, you see. except for that little thing that mourn watchers make spirits to inhabit the dead bodies to do hard work like serving dinner, and mopping the floors, mining etc. and summonning then to animate the corpses of evil people who died horrible deaths, but it's ok. spirits like it. they like to serve, they like being corpses, they really love to feel all the pain and suffering the person felt before dying. no harm comes to them, really.

then. you don't think that the Crows are best rulers for Antiva? you don't think that their methods are good in the long run? (because they are NOT). forget that. they are good. you don't want the city be in their hands? forget that, you want Treviso to be saved = you give it to the Crows.

more than that, you can like Lucanis, your Rook can love Lucanis, but in the end, you bring him back to his pretty abusive family without any chance for calling any of them out (I don't believe the Inner Demons quest serves that purpose).

Lucanis does not overcome the obstacles, he just goes towards his childhood nightmares prison, and there is no choice for him.

it is quite poetic, isn't it? Rook saves the world by creating the darker version of it - the universe where you have no other option than to declare your every choice as the better of possible choices which is good absolutely for everyone, even it can't be true. (much as Elgar'nan did, yeah? the world shall prosper, and it shall prosper the way he sees it).

[hkevisvlsvso]

FINALLY, bothered to translate the Deon thing.

I kinda like the beginning, and the rest of it is shit except the last few chapters which are pretty nice, and the ending is shit again.

Yeah, I guess Leon and I are dating now. Or we didn't officially agree to anything, but I think if he kissed me, he also wants to date me. And it feels good. Hell no, it feels really weird to think that, but I really like the way Leon's hand feels in mine and his soft hair and his smug grin and the way his face feels between my hands and the way he says he hates me and his lips touching my lips and his arm around me and his.. okay let's just start.

I sit at my desk just staring out the window and thinking about everything possible (...okay, I'm thinking about Leon, but what about it?) when I hear the phone ring in the living room. I don't even know why, but I quickly get up from my chair almost knocking it over and run into the living room to answer the phone, only to see my dad raise the phone to his ear. Someone says something on the other end of the line. Father glances at me with a surprised look, and then asks:

"Who's there?"

I don't like the slightly suspicious tone of his voice, but soon he hands me the phone and says:

"It's for you, son."

I take the phone and raise it to my ear with a slightly confused smile. Nobody almost ever calls me.

Dad leaves the room, glancing at me once more over his shoulder.

"Hello?" I ask into the phone, and no matter how hard I try, I can't prevent a smile from appearing on my face when I hear Leon's voice.

"Deniz?" He asks, and for some reason his voice is more cautious than usual.

"Hi," I reply, and I can hear myself smiling in my voice. Leon laughs nervously.

"Hi."

A long silence, to fill which I decide to ask:

"Did you have something to say, or did you call just to hear my charming voice?"

I can almost feel Leon blushing on the other end of the phone. I smile with satisfaction.

"Shut up!!" his voice is very irritated. "I can end this call if i want and never call you again."

"Okay, what were going to say?" I ask before he actually hangs up. Another moment of silence, which ends when Leon says:

"So.. uh- I was thinking that.. if you wanted to go with me... somewhere, to do, uh, something?"

I laugh.

"So like.. a date?"

I ask, because I know my choice of words annoys Leon.

"NO!" he shouts. "Or, sort of.. yeah? Or nothing too official now or it'll be awkward. But, if you wanted to come?"

Leon is always self-confident and trusts that everyone either likes him or is so afraid of him that they don't dare to disobey him. That's why it's rare to hear his voice so cautious and probing, uncertain. "Yeah," I say.

"What 'yeah'?"

"I want to come. Really."

~~~

When I arrive behind the museum, where we agreed to meet, Kalle is already there. His bike lies on the ground beside him, and he staresfor some reason an empty wall in the museum. He has his back to me and hasn't noticed my arrival yet. I quietly get off my bike and sit next to him. He doesn't notice me. He looks pretty nervous. I grin.

"Nice wall, isn't it?"

Leon almost jumps in fright. I laugh as he turns to look at me. I laugh at him freaking out, his cutely messy hair, the fact that he called me, and the fact that I'm with him now. I'm just so happy.

Leon tries to hit me in the side, but I grab his wrist and pull him closer to me. He looks at me and I look at him. It's not as romantic as you might think, but if it was, it would just be awkward.

"Am I supposed to kiss you now?" Leom asks. I glance around, make sure no one is nearby. There isn't.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "You are."

Leon also glances quickly to both sides before he kisses.

~~~

At some point, we stop caring if people notice we're dating. We cycle around the city without figuring out where to go, we laugh and talk about everything as normal and at some point Leon grabs my hand without slowing down. Our fingers automatically find their way into each other's recess and Leon's hand in mine feels warm and comfortable. The wind blows in my ears and I squeeze Leon's hand, and we don't slow down. Only a couple of guys shout homophobic slurs at us, but that doesn't bother us that much. We grin at each other, and Leon shouts behind him "Same to you!".

I flip the bird to the shouters, and since both of my hands are no longer on the bike's handlebars, Leon of course turns his bike hard to the side and pulls me along. We fall on the asphalt and I fall on top of Leon. Leon looks at me angrily, as if it was my fault. I roll off of him. Leon stares at me pointedly, but I can see from his eyes that he's not really that angry. He is cute. I smile innocently, and Kalle pokes me in the chest.

"Look where are you going you fucking idiot," he snorts.

"Me?! I'm sorry, but you dragged me here! You could see that my hands had other things to do than hold the handlebars!!"

Leon pretends to be angry for a moment, but soon gives up and looks me in the eyes. I feel myself blushing. I'm not good at this. But on the other hand, Leon is neither, so maybe it doesn't hurt.

We drink a strawberry smoothie in a stereotypically romantic way from the same glass at an outdoor table of some stereotypically romantic little cafe. I demand to be able to pay it, it takes a long time to make Leon believe that I am the rich gentleman here. Everything would be perfectly stereotypically romantic if Leon didn't purposely blow smoothie drops on my face with him whistle and laugh evilly.

I like it. We are different from everyone else. We are not a stereotypical romance, far from it. I'm sure no one else's first absolutely-not-date would be like this, and that's why this is perfect. That's why I like this. That's why I like Leon. We're holding hands under the table, even though we know that if anyone here gave a fuck, they would have already shown signs of interest.

We decide to go to Cameleon. We sit on the edge of that ledge, below us opens the chasm into which none of us miraculously has ever fallen. I wonder how that would feel. Freedom. Air flow on the cheeks. Happy. Leon's hand in my hand.

Fortunately, there is other ways to experience all that than falling from fifty meters, after which you hit a rocky ground and never smile again. The setting sun stereotypically turns the sky orange above us, but it doesn't even matter, it's actually pretty good that way.

Leon is lying next to me, his legs dangling outside the plank floor over the chasm. He looks laid back and I fucking love him. I don't know if it's weird to think like that when you've only been dating someone for two days. I look at him for a moment, the sun glinting in his eyes. I fucking love him. I fall down to lie next to him and pull him closer to me, which is, compared to some things (all of which Leom is involved in), a little more uncomfortable than some other things because we are both lying down and I have to laboriously slide my hand under Leon to hug him, but still feels warm and comfortable. In some kind of gust of tenderness, I lay my head on Leon's chest. His soft hoodie and calm heaving of his chest soothes something in me that I didn't even know existed. Leon pats my head stiffly, but then relaxes.

"I fucking love you," I repeat my thoughts out loud, realizing it's the same phrase I whispered to him that night at the Junk yard when he left the Wilden Kerle, now it's just in the present. I smile at my own unintentional profundity. Leon laughs.

"Of course you do. Everyone does," he says.

I shake my head against him.

"Yep, of course"

The sun is setting and it's getting dark, I kiss Leon again, my fingers gently raise his chin, I want to give a princely image of myself. It fails, but it doesn't matter, because Leon already knows I'm not a some fucking fairytale prince. He tells me that's exactly why he likes me. He really wouldn't want any fucking fairy tale prince.

"But you want the son of the world's most famous soccer player?" I ask. I'm at least as rich as fairy tale princes usually are. I tell Leon that, as if he doesn't already know it.

"Yeah, but do you arrive at my place with millions of euros worth of jewelry straight from the golf course on your white horse? No, though you could very well do that. You play soccer in some old field, mountain bike through the woods and, well, sit in a tree house late at night with me. If you are wild, it doesn't matter how much money you own."

"Okay, wow".

I really am impressed. Leon's face is warm against my cold fingers and I love him, everything about him, and I love that he loves me too. Our lips touch, and every time it happens, I wake up from another dream to the beautiful reality, Leon's arms around me.

I take Leon home, I smile as we cycle side by side along deserted roads. We stop in front of his yard, I hug Leon, I kiss him, on his lips and many times on his cheek, until he tells me to stop, I laugh and he squeezes my hand so hard that it almost breaks, what if Marlon or their father saw us. I think they would react really well. Leon blinks towards the windows of his house, blushing.

"See you tomorrow too?" I ask. I can only make out Leon's outline in the dark.

"Of course," he says, smiling. "We have our football team, remember??."

I laugh because I had forgotten that. And then I start cycling home.

[justallihere]

I don't know if anyone else mentioned Violet's hair yet but I just finished OS and been scrolling tumblr to vibe with everyone! Saw an ask about Violet's hair and why it is the way it is. I just figured I'd add that the way I understood it was that Asher took Violet (alone) to the temple of Dunne to attempt to "fix her," but when the High Priestess saw that her fate was not finalized (the whole scene with Mira and Brennan when Mira finds out Xaden turned), the dedication wasn't complete and never would be so her hair doesn't turn entirely silver like the rest of the priestesses they see. So when Violet sees the little girl, it's because the dedication was begun but it won't be finalized until a path to a set fate has been started (does that even make sense? idk.)

Also, I was almost a little sad when Theophanie died lmao she was such an evil bitch but I loved seeing a character like that.

Also also, I know you talked about how Violet and Xaden's relationship felt not entirely canon, but I wanted to add a different perspective (ehem mine) to it! I felt like these two people have grown into their current selves after dealing with so much loss, and Xaden, besides Tairn and Andarna, is the only thing that kept Violet grounded through all of it. Sure, he was a big part of her mental instability and turmoil, but he was her rock too. It seemed natural for me that Violet shifted into a badass confident, "will do anything to save him" girl considering he did that for her. His "touch her and die" turned into her "I don't care about anything except saving him." Of course the whole point of everyone reading is that they develop their opinions and that's what makes the book community fun (and terrible).

This is an incredibly long ask and I apologize for taking up so much space LOL but I'd love to hear people's thoughts about all this

yeah violet's hair debacle was definitely a little confusing, but that's the gist i got of it too! that whole situation is reason #1 asher is on my shit list, like what do you mean you wanted to "fix" your daughter? absolutely not

i agree to a certain extent about xaden and violet! they've always been pretty ride or die for each other, but the biggest issue for me was that there wasn't a great transition into violet's moral grayness (poisoning people to death, threatening children) given what we knew of how far she was willing to go before. and even if she did feel the need to do those things, i expected her to struggle with it a little. she's never wanted to be a killer, and she never would have brought children into her schemes. since we're in her head, the lack of inner turmoil about it all was a little jarring, but i can also see why people wouldn't think twice about it. and also why people love this version of them so much! i definitely do too but there was a lot about this book that felt abrupt

no worries at all!! the ask box is always open for any and all opinions!!

[lathez]

It's 👏 Sujamma 👏 Sundas 👏

This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic! Here's an excerpt from Sujamma The Nix Hound's Big Day Out:

A nix-hound in Raven Rock is usually cause for concern, but Sujamma isn't worried. Sujamma is everyone's friend! With the latest influx of settlers coming to work in the re-opened mines, he's been enjoying lazy days in the market, getting lots of belly rubs and Kwama eggs. Sujamma thinks he might be a good merchant. He thinks he would sell two hugs for one hug. That way he gets three hugs! But today there is no time for belly rubs, and hugs will have to wait; Sujamma is on a mission. It's a very important day for his very important friend - or at least, Sujamma thinks he's important. His friend isn't always convinced, but Sujamma knows everyone who loves anyone is important, and his friend loves Sujamma, so that makes him extra special *super* important. "Orp Orp," Sujamma orps. He knocks on the door with his noggin. Having been expecting her buggy friend, Cindiri Arano opens the door. "Well hello Sujamma, have you come to pick up your cake?" She asks. She reaches down and gives him a hug. Sujamma wags his torso. Cindiri gives the best hugs.

"Yep yep!" Sujamma agrees.

Use tag Sujamma Sundas when you post, and feel free to tag a friend! Today Sujamma will be tagging @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @rambles-about-some-scrolls @sulphuricgrin and @illumiera