#But also the 'that entire class was full of kids at risk and no one noticed or helped them and that sure didnt stop them from seeking-

[hajihiko]

I interpret Kaz's relationship with his dad a little differently from that one convo. He says something like 'he knew better than anyone that we didn't have the money' and I took that as his dad wanted him to go and have fun like a normal kid and not worry about the money. Of course, I don't justify physical discipline and it is abuse, even if the parent is well intentioned. I think that Kaz does love his dad and they're relationship might be more complicated. But you know that's just one of the many things he needs to work out in therapy.

(Again this is just my interpretation and I'm not saying yours is wrong. I do love the art.)

Just gonna use this as a little jumping point to talk about this bc why not, warnings for obviously sensitive topics

I dont think you're wrong, I actually probably agree, but one thing;

It's not uncommon for public perception to weigh more than actual actions or intent. In the example given, I see it like so; yeah, Souda sr. wanted his son to go on a field trip that they couldn't really afford. Yeah, Kaz wanted to help the household by not going on the trip and saving the money. Both have good intent here. It's not about that, though, because in Souda sr.'s eyes, refusing to go on the trip is like admitting that they're poor, which is like saying the father can't provide for his family, which is like public humiliation- in his eyes. In a fit of rage (and insecurity, if it's something that's already weighing on his mind, as these things often go) the assumption isnt that his son was trying to help, just that he did something that makes the father look bad. Which is a bigger trigger than most things, often, for patriarchal authority figures.

And it not an excuse for physical harm, no, nothing is. Probably, Souda sr. knows that, and didn't mean to snap- doesnt think he committed an act of child abuse- but he's been under a lot of stress, and his son was talking back, and, well.

I think they do usually get along alright, and Souda sr. does his best to provide for himself and his son and keep their relationship good, and Kazuichi is genuinely grateful for everything his dad's done for him? But in the end, it's another person Kazuichi trusted teaching him the lesson that people will let him down and hurt him, in some way at some point. If your parent whom you trust has made you genuinely afraid of them, it's hard to come back from it, and someone as anxious and emotionally sensitive as Kazuichi will hold onto that forever, probably, even as he might internalized some of it as his own fault.

It's a lot more complicated than just "bad father, sad son" (but again, not excusable, you don't hit your kids period). It's father and son who love each other and might be the only family they both have, but they clash horribly on occasion, make up (or don't talk about it at all), things die down, stay good for a while, then there's another clash- so it goes, even if the bad times are only occasional. The biggest Thing about these kind of relationships, to me, is that it's so easy to fall into a routine and let things stagnate, and before you know it, it's just How Things Are and it's easier to just deal than start rocking the boat.

#Not an art #Talky talky #Dysfunctional relationships and toxic family is always something I have Thoughts on #cw child abuse #This is also just me blabbing with little evidence so dont come for my throat ok I'm just pondering #I could talk about the kuzuryu family too I think there's a lot more context stuff there #But that's a diff post #I also hc that Kaz started thinking about the death machines before Junko #Not in a serious manner but as a malcontent kid who felt bitter and insecure and wanted to let it out somehow #Who hasnt fantasised about pushing someone down the stairs or sth right? That's where it started for him #Blah blah the 'anyone is capable of evil' theme #But also the 'that entire class was full of kids at risk and no one noticed or helped them and that sure didnt stop them from seeking- #-release and control and company from bad people who in turn affected them'

[shujohajohaminnie]

Office hours

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Fluffy 

Word count: 3304 

Summary: The top student is having issues with a class she thought she would ace, only to find out there's a reason for her failing grade. 

A fab!reader, profanity, Pet names, Kinda Public sec, Raw sex, Breeding kink, Possessiveness. I think that's it let me know if I missed anything. 

The end of the semester was around the corner and you couldn’t lie, you were stressed out. You were top of most of your classes making sure to turn in the work either on time or early. So passing all your classes was going to be a breeze right? WRONG! You were passing all your classes except one. English lit. It wasn’t a hard subject, in fact, it was your favorite subject since you were a kid, the problem here was your professor. Kim Seungmin. He was known for being incredibly strict, but you were late to register leaving you with no option but to take his class. What you couldn’t understand was why the hell were you not passing his class, you were turning in his work, and you were sure everything was right. Was he failing you? No, he couldn't be. 

Adding to your stress was your shitty job as a coffee shop barista. The pay was shit, the hours were worse and the people were just unbearable. But you had a deal with your parents, as long as you were working and going to school, they’d pay for your college. It was the times you’d get home from work at two a.m incredibly tired, feet aching, in full body pain, and still have to complete your homework that you really wanted to just quit going to school in general. But you had dreams you knew you could only pursue through continuing your education. It would all be worth it, you had to remind yourself. 

You weren’t entirely shocked when Professor Kim asked you to stay after class to talk, but you were nervous. “Miss y/l/n” “Yes?” “I wanted to talk to you about your grade in my class” “Yes, Professor, I also wanted to talk to you about that as well” “Good, so you know that you are at risk of failing my class” “Yes professor, and I wanted to ask you why that was” “I have the exact same question for you y/n” Hearing him say your name sent chills down your spine. You weren’t blind, you noticed how hot Professor Kim was, but you hated him, no not hate, detest, you detested your Professor, Kim Seungmin.  “My class is starting… come to my office after and we can further discuss your grade” You nodded walking out of the class with your head low, why was he such an asshole. Such a condescending prick, and only to you, yes he was strict but he wasn’t rude to the other students. So what the hell did you do to piss him off, and why the hell did you feel so turned on when you were around him. 

“Hey” Hyunjin smiled, handing you a cup of coffee. You sighed, taking a seat in between him and a sleeping Minho. The perfect combo to cheer you up, your two best friends, and your favorite spot on campus. “What's wrong” Minho whipped his head up after hearing those words leave Hyunjin's mouth. Taking the role of the protector of the group even when he was tired. “What happened, who did it, what happened” “Minho Minho… I’m okay it’s just Professor Kim again” “Oh” he sighed, taking a sip of your coffee and resting his head in the palm of his hand to fight off his desire to sleep. “What did he do this time? '' Hyunjin rolled his eyes, putting down his pencil to give you his full attention. “He told me to go to his office after his class to discuss my grade” “You’re still failing?” “Yeah… but I don’t know why, I know the work that I’m turning in is correct… and I always turn it in early.”  “I seriously doubt that it has to do with your work…” “You think he’s failing me, Lee?” “I know he’s failing you” “Maybe we shouldn’t assume that yet” “Well do you have a better reason Jin?” “Well no-” “Then y/n I say you march into his office and demand to know why exactly your failing, and don’t be nice about it, stand your ground” “Okay” “What are you going to say” “Excuse me sir-” “ No fuck that… go in there and say hey asshole why the fuck are you failing me” “Please don’t say that y/n” “Then what do I say?” “Just go in there and say you know what I don’t understand how I could be failing when I understand all the material being taught to me, and ask if there’s any extra credit work that you could do” “You could do that orrrrrr you could do what I said” “Minho he already hates me, why give him even more reason to hate me more” “Okay but if you're going to do what Hyunjin said, at least don’t be completely nice about it” “Do whatever feels right to you” Hyunjin smiled patting your shoulder as you rested your head on the table. You were extremely tired, going to sleep at five in the morning just to wake up at seven in the morning to get ready for your nine a.m class. You sighed feeling overwhelmed by the situation trying to figure out what you were going to tell Proffesor Kim. In the midst of your thoughts you couldn’t fight your tiredness, taking Minho’s offer to cuddle and go to sleep on the beanbags the library stored. 

“Y/n… Y/n wake up” “Huh” You groaned sitting up. “What time did you have to meet Mr. Kim” “at 1:30 why” “It’s already 1:45” “FUCK” You yelled quickly gathering your stuff and making your way to his office. 

“Professor” You huffed walking through his open door. He was typing away on his computer not bothering to look up. “You’re late” “Yeah I’m sorry there was traffic” “You want to try that again?” “My cat died?” “Is my class a joke to you y/n'' he sighed, finally looking up at you.“What no no no absolutely not” “Because you seem to treat it as such” He stood up smoothing out his shirt.” you don’t come to class half of the time” He spoke lowly walking around his desk to you. “You’re an amazing student y/n, you’re incredibly smart, but attendance counts as a grade too” he closed the door locking it. You looked up at him noticing the close proximity. “I work sir and my manager sometimes schedules me during school hours” “And you could’ve told me so, I would’ve understood and tried to help you out” “I’m sorry, but sir… why am I really failing your class, I know my attendance grade wouldn’t impact my actual work grade enough to bring me down to an F” “What are you suggesting… that I’m failing you” “No no of course not” he scoffed, backing away from you walking towards his desk again. He sat down in his chair interlocking his fingers as he looked you up and down. 

“I have been failing you y/n” he smirked his eyes growing darker as they looked at you. “Y-You have?” “Mhmm” “Why” “Because I wanted to get you here” “Here?” “Here… in my office… I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get you here if you were passing my class” “S-Sir… why did you want me here” “Please Y/n call me Seungmin, you didn’t have any problem calling me that in you essay you turned in” “I’m sorry?” “You know… you’re a fantastic writer… but this erotica you turned in, well… it wouldn’t slide with any other teacher.” “Professor I’m lost” “Have a look” he signaled to his computer. You quickly made your way behind his desk, your heart beating out of your chest. What was he- Oh my God your eyes went wide as you read the first lines of what you thought was your Hamlet essay. 

I touch myself at the thought of you. As my fingers trail down my naked skin I imagine it’s your hands. I know it’s wrong to think of you this way, you’re my teacher, I’m your student. But I can’t help it. I want to feel you, I need to feel you. I want to be wrapped around your hands forever, but how can I? How can I possibly grasp your attention? Did you notice my skirts get shorter? The buttons on my top were undone. I just want you to lay me down on your desk while you make love to me. Looking me right in the eyes so I know that it’s real and not just a dream. Seungmin what do I need to do to be yours? 

You felt your body tremble as your eyes scanned the short work of pure filth you had written about you and your professor, it was the outcome of a night filled with too much drinks. You must have titled it wrongly and turned it in. “Professor… I am so sor-” “You know when I first saw you walk into my class I was stunned by how gorgeous you were, then I got to grade your work and see inside your head. So smart, and so beautiful you are, you drove me insane. After the first week, I knew I needed to have you, then you submitted this and confirmed that you felt the same way too” “Seungmin” “Yes honey” “Fuck me… please” 

He quickly grabbed your waist pulling you closer to him, kissing you like his life depended on it. His free hand clearing the top of his desk, disregarding everything onto the floor with a loud crash. “Seungmin… they’ll hear” “We’re the only ones here y/n… we could be as loud as we want” he whispered against your lips. Just hearing him say that made your eyes roll back as a moan slipped out of your parted lips. “You like that honey… you like being able to scream out my name”. He laughed picking you up onto his desk, Sitting back in his chair, he examined you closely. He noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Show me baby… show me how wet I make you” You bit your lip as you spread your legs wide for him. Much like the other days, you wore yet again another short skirt.  “You wore these for me?” He asked his finger trailing up the fabric of your black lacey underwear. You picked out your outfits especially for him, from the underwear to even the socks with the ruffles, prepared to look amazing for him in any circumstance. 

Yes, you detested him, but you didn’t hate the idea of him fucking you like you two didn’t have class tomorrow. “Who makes you this wet?” He smirked his fingers looping into your underwear band peeling them off your sopping cunt achingly slow. “Hmm?” “You” You whispered, your hand grazing his. You didn’t feel like waiting you wanted him now. He finally managed to get your underwear off, slipping them into one of his drawers before he turned to look up at your face. The look in his eyes was different than when he would usually look at you. He wanted you just as bad, all he wanted to do was flip you over and fuck you. He had pictured this for so long and was happy that it was finally happening, But he also wanted to tease you. His fingers trailed up your thighs pushing them apart wider. You pulled up your skirt higher for him to see you, all of you. “Fuck” he groaned seeing your pussy glisten with arousal, you were thinking of him, he got you like that. “Who’s pretty girl are you?” “Your’s” You gasped feeling his fingers slip into your tight hole without warning. He got closer, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his lips so close to where you desperately wanted him. He gave you one more kiss before he began to lick at your clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You grabbed his shoulders for stability as you threw your head back a quiet moan slipping out your lips. “Louder… I want to hear what I do to you” “FUCK” You cried out as he moaned into you, sending vibrations through you, helping you closer and closer to your peak. “Can I see those pretty tits honey… show me your pretty tits” He smiled curling his fingers up and hitting your favorite spot perfectly. You arched your back wanting more of the feeling, more of the attention, more of his love. Your fingers plaid with the hem of your shirt slowly inching more and more up. You made the best choice of wearing a matching black lace bra. Could you even call it a bra, it wasn’t covering hardly anything. He groaned at the sight his free hand going straight for the clasp in the back, undoing it in one swift movement. “Take it off” “Yes sir” You giggled following his orders and placing it in the same drawer where he was holding your panties. “Seungmin I’m gonna cum” “Cum baby… cum for me”. He played with your clit again pulling your closer and closer till you were releasing on his tongue, not stopping his movement, wanting to get you through your orgasm. 

“You taste so good” He smiled grabbing the back of your head and pulling you into a hungry kiss, much like before. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it was better than you ever imagined. Your fingers would never be able to do you justice, they weren’t his fingers. No other person's mouth would feel as good on you like his did. It’s like you two were made specifically for each other. You know he’d know it as soon as he’d feel you wrapped around him. Fit perfectly just like a puzzle. “Seungmin… I need you” “You have me honey” he knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted to hear the words from your mouth, he needed to know he wasn’t dreaming.“I need you to fuck me” You whispered against his lips, trailing down his jaw and neck. You wanted to leave a mark. If you could leave behind your initials you would, but this would have to do. You needed the girls that were constantly around him, whether they were his students or other teachers, they needed to know he was taken. He was your man, and they better not fucking touch him. 

“Yeah that’s what you want” “Mhmm” You hummed continuing your art on the soft skin of his neck and collarbone. He pulled you off the desk turning you around so that you were resting on your stomach bent over the desk. Just like you imagined it time and time again. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, and his pants coming undone and falling to the ground. As much as you wanted to be the one to do the honors, and give him the best head of his life it’ll just have to wait until next time. “You’re my pretty girl” “All your’s” You moaned feeling him trail his already leaking tip through your wet folds. “Forever yours” You reached for his free hand interlocking your fingers. You kissed the top of his hand as you felt him slowly press into you. You bit your lip as you felt that delicious stretch you so badly craved. Much like him, his cock was long, and him not wearing a condom allowed you to feel every vein, every beautiful detail. Surprisingly he was thick, which you didn’t expect. He wasn’t thick to the point that it was painful but thick in the way that he filled you perfectly, and he thought so too. This definitely wasn’t a dream, no. It was heaven. 

“Tell me when” He spoke through gritted teeth, it was taking everything in his not to just thrust into you like crazy, like he would his hand almost every night at the thought of you. No, you were real, and he could really hurt you, so he had to be careful. “G-Go” you nodded gripping his hand tighter. He pulled back and slowly sank right back into you. He gasped at the feeling, this was truly better than he could've ever expected. “You… you feel so good” he groaned digging his fingers into your hip as he continued to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace. For sure to leave a bruise. A mark with a lustful memory. “Seungmin” you breathed out your nails scratching the wood of his desk. Leaving behind lines in the glossy finish. You were leaving behind a memory yourself. For every time he came to his office to work he’d see that and remember this exact moment. 

“We can be as loud as we want” his words echoed in your mind. As the pleasure began to sink in moans started to slip out of your lips. Pure pornographic sounds, he didn’t hold back either. Speaking profanities and praises. If someone were to pass by it wouldn’t be a secret what was happening behind the locked door. With the way that both of your moans bounced off the walls and combined together into a beautiful song. The way that the sound of skin slapping filled the room. It was obvious. But you didn’t care, neither did he. He quicked his pace feeling the way you tightened around him giving him a sign that you were close, he wasn’t that far off either. He moved his hand from your hip going straight to your clit. You threw your head back onto his shoulder gasping at the intense pleasure you were feeling. “You gonna cum pretty… you gonna fucking cum” He spoke through gritted teeth, fucking you harder. You nodded not being able to form words. Tears began to fall down your face. No doubtly ruining your makeup. “Seungmin… I- Uh… I” “I know baby I know…. Cum for me… can you cum for your professor, can you be a good student and come for me”. You did shutting your eyes as you felt yourself release on his cock. “Where do you want me to cum y/n… you want me to cum on the pretty face” “In me” you whispered holding his arm that wrapped around your chest. “Oh pretty girl you want me to cum in you… You wanna have my babies” You moaned at his dirty words, nodding your head yet again. He grunted painting your walls white with your cum, continuing to thrust into you through his orgasm. 

He sighed sitting in his chair pulling you into his lap, still inside you. He opened his laptop and went into his grade book adding a zero behind all of the ten’s he had previously graded your assignments as. “They were 100’s all along” “So you just wanted to stress me out” You laughed rolling your eyes as you pulled down your shirt catching your breath. “It got me you… didn’t it” “You always had me Seungmin… you would have had me sooner if you were nicer to me”  “Don’t sit here and lie to me that it didn’t turn you on even a little bit” “Maybe it did, but I really thought you hated me” “I could never hate you Y/n”

#skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz x you #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #kim seungmim #kim seungmin smut #seungmin x reader

[milfandmoney]

Not Her Only Fan (NSFW)

part 1 / ??

melissa schemmenti x parent fem!reader

summary: now that she knows you record videos of yourself naked and do streams to pay your bills, melissa can't stop thinking about your body. she subscribes to your onlyfans account, telling herself that she's supporting a single mom in need and things get awkward and heated real quick

warnings: dual povs, sex work, masturbation, mentions of sex toys

18+. NSFW content. MDNI.

It was all Ava's fault, really. And this time, it wasn't about blaming Ava because she was an easy target who made a mess of everything she touched at school. No. It really was entirely her fault this time. Well, maybe the whole ordeal wasn't Ava's fault, but it was definitely only because of her big mouth that Melissa Schemmenti had ended up in that fucked up situation.

It was all because Ava was way too excited to find out that one of the moms ran a somewhat successful OnlyFans account. And Ava being Ava, she had shared the information in the teachers' lounge, so excited about her little discovery that she hadn't paid attention to the people present in the room.

Melissa knew that some of the male teachers that had been present for the announcement had subscribed to the mom's page—disgusting pigs that they were.

Melissa Schemmenti was not like them, though. She was definitely above that. She had no desire to check out some porn made by some random woman. Except she was no random woman. She was one of the moms that Melissa had encountered the most this year—single mom to a special needs kid in her second grade class. A mom who also happened to be extremely attractive and charming; a beautiful person inside and out.

It was all because of Ava that Melissa had been too curious to resist the temptation.

Being the smart businesswoman that she was, Melissa knew to check the merchandise first before risking to spend money on something that might not be worth it. She had not opened a porn website in a year and a half, but she did that night, wanting to see if she could find previews and samples for the OnlyFans content of emerald velvet.

Melissa had expected to find boring straight content, nothing spicier than good old doggy style. But instead she found artfully shot solo videos with sensual lighting and gorgeous lingerie sets.

Before she could even realise what she was doing, Melissa had pulled down her pants and settled down on her couch, phone clutched in her hand as she waited for a sample video titled "LESBIAN EDGING VIDEO—touching myself for you" to load. The first image that appeared on her screen was a most stunning body in a gorgeous red corset and matching panties, a pair of stockings that hugged her thighs in the most delicious of manners. It was a tasteful look, and as the gorgeous mother started caressing her breasts, her inner thighs, her neck, Melissa reached a hand between her own thighs, rubbing herself over her panties gently.

“You want to touch me, don't you?” the woman on her phone said, her voice teasing. Melissa had heard that voice in her classroom enough times to recognise it. “Shame you haven't earned that right.”

The angle changed, with the woman now on her back, legs spread to expose the drenched crotch of her fancy red panties. When she tugged the thin material to the side, revealing her soaked pussy, Melissa felt her cunt clench at the sight. She could not tear her eyes aways from the leaking pussy on her screen, watching as the younger woman rubbed circles on her reddened clit—Melissa mirrored the movements, desperately seeking her release. She was so close. So fucking close.

And then, all of sudden, everything stopped.

Watch the full video now on OnlyFans!

The words were written in cute pink font and taunted Melissa and her interrupted orgasm. She slammed her phone down onto the couch out of frustration and shoved at the coffee table with her foot.

FUCK!

Melissa wanted to see more.

She needed to see more.

No matter how guilty it made her feel that she wished to get off to porn videos made by the mother of one of her students, nothing else would satiate her and she knew it.

It was just a few minutes before eight when you arrived at Abbott, later than you were usually comfortable with, but nothing had gone smoothly from the moment you had woken up—starting with your alarm failing to ring and Liv needing to wake you up. The toaster stopped working, you dropped the last almond milk bottle when preparing Liv's breakfast, and you didn't have enough time to finish your cup of coffee. Still, you made it to school on time (nothing short of a miracle, really).

“Let's go, mom!” your daughter called as she ran towards the entrance doors.

You followed after her, ensuring that you had actually packed her noise cancelling headphones in your handbag before locking your car door and following after her.

It wasn't every day that you walked her all the way to Ms. Schemmenti's classroom, but you did from time to time, to talk to your daughter's teacher. It was nice to have a quick talk with the woman, to make sure that everything was still going okay with Liv during the day, to ask if there were things they needed to go over together. You had been spending even more time at the school since Liv was diagnosed with autism and ADHD than you had when the teachers still believed that she was just a trouble kid.

“Good morning, Ms. Schemmenti!” you heard your kid exclaim as she ran into the classroom.

The teacher approached when she noticed you in the corridor. You were amused when you realised she wasn't crossing the threshold, keeping the two of you separated. She did not greet you immediately as she usually did, instead looking you up and down—it lasted such an awkwardly long moment that for a second you thought you had put on your outfit wrong, but no, your black shirt was buttoned properly, your dark jeans fit well and your zipper wasn't down, even your boots matched and were laced all the way up.

“Morning, Ms. Schemmenti?”

She looked up at your face and blinked. She looked more tired than you had ever seen her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

You tilted your head at the short, almost dismissive response.

“Ms. Schemmenti, at loss for words, as I live and breathe,” you teased, smirking down at the redhead who stood in front of you.

She cleared her throat and seemed to regain her usual confidence and attitude, that tired, distant and distracted look in her eyes gone. Her eyes were back to the spine tingling intensity that motivated you to walk Liv to her classroom even when it wasn't necessary. It wasn't your fault if you had a thing for older women—it was a fantasy you never acted upon, aside from a few solo videos where you referred to your viewers as mommy.

“Do we need to have a meet up soon?” you questioned.

The redhead was not discreet when she glanced down at your cleavage before answering your question.

“Yeah. I mean no, we don't need to,” she corrected herself quickly once she managed to look away from your body, “Olivia has been doing a lot better lately, she's even starting to make some friends.”

You couldn't figure out what, but something was different about the way Ms. Schemmenti interacted with you. She'd always seemed to enjoy the way you looked, but you had taken it as a sign of mere approval. This was different. It was more like raw attraction—more like the reactions you got from men when they realised that you did porn.

Oh fuck—

There was no way she had found out about your OnlyFans account, right? It wasn't like teachers had time and money to spend on porn subscriptions, right? And Ms. Schemmenti looked too... too... Ms. Schemmenti to watch masturbation videos made by a simple single mom (a hot one, obviously, or else you wouldn't be making money from your videos but still just a single mom).

You couldn't even ask her about it without risking exposing herself in case Ms. Schemmenti didn't actually know about your videos.

“I should leave you to your students, they'll all be here in a couple minutes,” you stated, offering her a smile that was enough to keep her attention on your face. “I'll see you soon enough, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too. Be good, Liv!”

You waved at your daughter as you took a few steps back away from the classroom. You took one last glance over your shoulder as you made your way to the front doors, an found Ms. Schemmenti's eyes on you—and she was definitely not trying to make eye contact with you, unless, of course, she believed that that your eyes were on your ass.

Today was a slow day. Working from home had many advantages, like allowing you to film your videos and do streams on a regular basis. Less time commuting to and from work, a better income, and more time and money to take care of your daughter. It was rather ideal.

Except for the part where you were now half-convinced that your daughter's teacher knew that you did porn on the side. You didn't have time to think about that. You had a live stream planned for noon—people were horny at all hours of the day and the rich men (and occasionally women) who worked office hours left the biggest tips when they were bored at work, something that you had learned quickly after starting your career because of how many new subscribers you got over lunch breaks.

You were used to getting everything up and ready for your lives now, and it didn't take long to choose a set of lingerie that you knew would be appreciated. Today's set was one of your favourites; matching emerald green corset and thong. No stockings, you kept it simple during the day. "Lunchables", as you called your midday streams, gathered only a few loyal subscribers who sent you big tips to listen to you talk about the gifts they had sent you over the past few days and to watch you do a quick solo.

Something was different today when you started your live stream though. A new username had popped up among the usual notifications from your regulars.

Schemmexy.

That... that was not a coincidence. That was ridiculously on the nose.

No fucking way.

You took a few deep breaths and schooled your expression. You couldn't let anything transpire.

It was like any other lunch stream. No problem. Your kid's teacher totally hadn't found out about your special career and subscribed to your account. Totally wasn't watching your stream while supposedly at school—sure, it was lunch break, but still!

You reached for one of the packages you had set down on your bed and braced yourself for a disastrously awkward stream.

But everything went on as usual.

The gifts you had been sent were all high quality silicone dildos (you'd jokingly complaining about your fans sending only vibrators lately, and it seemed they had listening and taken you a bit too seriously), and a couple sets of lingerie (both very pretty and soft to the touch).

You'd gotten off (twice) quickly using a bullet vibrator. You'd said goodbye to your viewers, naming some of the biggest tippers directly to make them happy.

All in all, disturbingly ordinary.

Schemmexy had manifested herself only once, with the smallest tip available, to praise your looks and the way you sounded when you came. The "such a good girl" at the end of her message had taken you aback, but you'd done decently good at pretending you weren't flustered by the words when you imagined them pronounced in Ms. Schemmenti's raspy voice and South Philly accent.

It was so wrong to fantasise about your daughter's teacher though. But it had to be more wrong to watch your student's mom get off live, right?

You couldn't even know for sure if it really was Ms. Schemmenti—even if there was no way in hell it wasn't her.

Deciding that there were much more important things to think about and to do, you got up from your bed and went to take a shower. Maybe the hot water could wash away your sins and your dirty thoughts about your kid's hot MILF of a teacher.

After a long, hot, relaxing shower, you flopped down onto your bed, wrapped only in a towel. It was just the perfect amount of comfortable.

You reached for your phone. One text notification stood out among all the others.

Ms. Schemmenti.

Hey, I hate to bother you in the middle of the day, but the kids have been really excited since lunch break. Do you think you might have time to bring Olivia's headphones?

That didn't make sense. You'd put them in your handbag this morning.

And... and you'd proceeded to be so distracted by the notion that Ms. Schemmenti might know about your second career that you had forgotten to hand the headphones to her.

Well, fuck.

Now you'd have to face the woman after she'd watched you get off live. At least her reaction to seeing you wouldn't definitely give away whether or not it really was her, right?

You were so fucked.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #wlw #wlw fiction #noel writes #i'm writing this for myself

[slexenskee]

MDNSY AU

Posting this WIP bc maybe if it sees the light of day I’ll actually get around to writing more of it

I originally wrote this right after the sick-fic arc even though its supposed to take place during the Eri arc so it gets kinda AU from there

It’s only afterwards— months afterwards, that he realizes the full extent of his own stupid actions. 

So many things had to perfectly align in exactly the wrong way for this to happen. But each and every one of them was his own damn fault, so there’s really no one to blame here but himself. 

It had to have happened when Hawks had been sick and recovering in his hotel room, that’s the only way the timing lines up. Gojo has always been good about practicing safe sex— considering how he sleeps around, he sort of has to— and has never slipped up even once… until Hawks. Multiple times, actually, not even counting the time he was sick. There’d also been that time in Palawan, when he hadn’t brought any condoms with him because he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t need them. That had been rather profoundly short sighted of him, in hindsight. And then of course there were the time(s) when Hawks was staying in his hotel room, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and once again Gojo hadn’t thought to go out and buy any condoms because he’d genuinely thought he wouldn’t need any. Hawks had been sick! Basically delirious! How was he supposed to know that the moment he’d recovered enough he’d jump him? And on a related note, how was Gojo supposed to summon up enough willpower to stop him? 

To that point— how was Gojo even supposed to know he should stop him?

That too, though, is entirely his fault.

Apparently it’s a regular part of sex-ed during middle school— except Gojo never went to class in middle school, so he’d entirely missed the memo. With the advent of quirks came a rare genetic mutation that allows for male pregnancies among a small subset of the population. Rare, but not entirely unheard of, either. It was certainly common enough for a segment to be taught in public schools, and testing to be done as part of the gamut of health checks most kids go through around puberty. Most kids aside from Gojo, who was out terrorizing organized crime syndicates just for fun at that age. 

God, he’s a fucking idiot. This entire situation was so laughably avoidable, and yet he’d managed to end up in it anyway. 

Anyway so now he’s having an existential meltdown in the middle of his still unfinished bathroom, staring numbly at the flecks of grout still flaking off the new tile, wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

“Satoruuu,” a voice whines from the other side of the bathroom door. “I need to pee.”

Gojo scrambles to his feet, binning the evidence of all the pregnancy tests and burying it under a cloud of toilet paper just before he wrenches the door open, smile fixed in place. “Sorry Eri-chan! I was spacing out.”

Eri just takes the excuse at face value, bounding into the only current usable bathroom in the house and shutting the door behind her.

Gojo sighs wearily, slumping against the wall just outside the door.

Alright, first on the agenda is finding a temporary residence for them while he gets an army of contractors to fix the worst of the ‘home improvement’ sins he’s committed upon this house as quickly as possible. He’d originally thought redoing the rooms would be a fun bonding activity for him and Eri, but now he knows all those chemicals will be bad for… for the baby, so that’s probably a bad idea now. He’s also going to need this house in livable condition as fast as he can make it happen, because apparently… there’s going to be a baby here in less than six months. 

He’s also going to need a doctor, and a very good and discreet one at that. From what he’s read in his mad frenzy of online searching, male pregnancies are very high risk. He’s not at all worried for himself, seeing as though he can heal from just about anything, but that same protection doesn’t extend to the other person currently taking up roost inside him. He frowns. Or does it? Wouldn’t his reversed-curse technique still work on them when they’re still a parasite leeching off of his body? When exactly does their cursed energy start to deviate from each others to the point he can no longer heal them as an extension of himself? Man, what he wouldn’t give for a conversation with Shoko right now.

He can worry about things like clothes and furniture and baby food after he’s settled the most immediate concerns on his list. Namely, fixing this house and finding a doctor. And telling Eri, although he doubts that will be much of an issue. The girl will be beyond excited to be an older sibling.

Now as for telling his family and telling Hawks…

Gojo winces.

Yeah, okay. It says a lot that he’d rather tell Endeavor, to his face, that he’s getting another grandchild than fessing up to Hawks about carrying his kid. Even the thought of it is going to give him a stress tumor.

Well, stress is bad for babies, right? So maybe he should just table the thought for later. You know, for his health.

#fic may death never stop you #spinoff fic #mpreg au #mdnsy oneshots

[ugh-yoongi]

HOBI REQUESTS YAY! okay so at first i was thinking it might be hobi's birthday and he stays late at the studio regardless of the day and comes home to reader all tired and drained, but then reader has such a sweet surprise for him when he gets there (whether it be a cake, flowers, balloons, etc.) and it just seems like he can breathe again without the weight of his work on his chest, even if it's just for that night, he can fall asleep with no problem.

OR, considering it's in the name of jess' birthday, it could be reversed? reader's birthday and hobi has the sweet surprise instead? i don't have an idea of what specifically would be demanding so much of reader's attention, but coming home to hobi with his pretty smile on such a day seems like something so beautiful.

that's all i could muster up as of now, 🙃 if you chose to, feel free to play around with it until it's something you are comfortable with! <3

thank you so much for the request! i went with the first one and i hope you enjoy it! <3

(side note: i banged this out in one sitting so i'm tentatively optimistic that my writer's block is cured. we'll see. thank you all for your patience and not showing up in my ask box with pitchforks.)

ataraxia

pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au; fluff, a tiny bit of angst warnings: hobi's kind of going through it so there are allusions to poor mental health, otherwise this is mostly fluff. just being there for your person when they're having a tough time. no gendered pronouns used. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1k listen to: novo amor - anchor

Hoseok had heard once that babies born in the winter are stronger.

Something about mothers being able to absorb more vitamin D during the summer months.

As he collapses onto the floor of his studio, sweat and exhaustion blurring his vision, he thinks those people are full of shit. What has being born in winter gotten him besides muscle cramps and seasonal depression? Because he’s also at a higher risk for that, which those people lauding his athleticism tend to leave off of the discussion.

He sighs. He’s twenty-nine now, and there’s something truly haunting about the inevitability of time. Can’t slow it down, can’t make it go faster; he just has to sit here and take it. Next year he’ll be thirty, thirty-one the year after that, and on and on it’ll go for the rest of his life.

All he has are these little joys: the squeak of his new sneakers on the studio floor, the kids in his class finally nailing their routine, those peach iced teas he likes being buy one get one free this week at the convenience store next door. He has you, too, but you were smart and traded in your two-cent dreams for the corporate world and now you’re spending his birthday on a business trip to Singapore.

Yoongi would call him an asshole for that, probably. He has friends. Friends who want to see him, buy him a drink and give him gifts, and he appreciates the effort, he does, he’s just… tired. Fatigue has seeped into all of his bones and left him nothing more than a husk of a person. It’s been months of this same unending grind, and he’s running out of self to give.

At least Singapore is warm this time of year. In Seoul, beyond the frosted windows of his studio, there’s nothing but gray-brown slush and a patch of black ice he can’t melt no matter how much he salts it.

“Fuck this,” he mutters.

It’s nearing nine o’clock. He needs to get home; needs to eat something and drag himself into a hot shower before he crawls into bed and spends the entire weekend there. Needs to reply to all the texts on his phone wishing him a happy birthday. Needs to tactfully and politely turn down all the invitations. Needs to post some bubbly, colorful message on social media thanking everyone for the well-wishes and attach a photo from a few weeks ago because he hasn’t been smiling much lately.

First, though, he needs to get off the floor.

He usually likes his walk home. Likes pressing his face to the glass to look at all the window displays when he’s not in the mood to shop. Likes seeing other people go about their days, live their lives. Likes looking at all the ways the city reflects sunlight and fades to husky gold. Likes walking under the cherry blossoms in the spring; likes it even more when a few petals stick to his shoulders and you laugh and brush them off as soon as he comes through the door.

It’s hard to get off the floor when none of that is out there.

But he does it anyway, because maybe he has a bit of that winter strength. He packs up his stuff and sits at the bus stop, counts his exhales as they materialize in front of him, thankful for the heavy coat you’d bought for him a few years ago, now well-worn and no longer itchy. He sits at the back by himself and sends half-assed replies to all of those texts. Scrolls back to stare at the photo you’d sent him this morning—fresh from sleep and barefaced, lips pursed together in a kiss, thumb and pointer fingers together in a heart.

Slush sticks to his shoes as he ducks inside the building. Nearly trips climbing up the stairs, because the two of you live on the fourth floor and it feels too lazy to take the elevator, even when his muscles are screaming from a long day at the dance studio. But it keeps him moving. Keeps him upright and functional when all he wants to do is rot away.

His shoes are dry by the time he reaches the door, soaked into the carpet lining the hallway. His hands still bear the cold—red and unsteady, it takes him a few tries to punch in the code. Gets it wrong twice, and he takes a second to just… stand there, head resting against the door, feeling the weight of the world come down on him.

He’s not sure what he thought twenty-nine would be like, but surely it wasn’t this.

And maybe if he wasn’t feeling so low, he would’ve noticed. Your keys in the bowl by the door, your shoes in the rack. The light on in the kitchen. The smell of the miyeokguk simmering on the stove. The sound of your footsteps as you meet him where he stands, shoulders slumped, eyes brimming with tears and exhaustion.

“Hob-ah?”

There are hands on his face. Soft, he thinks. They’re touching him so softly, treating him just as delicately as he feels. He leans into it; recognizes the perfume stuck to the wrist. Knows it smells like home and an aching he can never seem to put a name to, and you don’t hesitate to wrap him tightly in your arms.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says, words waterlogged and hesitant as he speaks them into the crook of your neck. Nothing feels real, and he doesn’t trust himself to open his eyes.

You tangle your hands in his hair. Scratch lightly against his scalp. “I got an early flight home. Got back this afternoon.” This is where someone else would ask if he’s okay, try to pry apart his ribcage and look at all the ugly parts, but you don’t. There’s just a small intake of breath and the reluctance to let him go. “The miyeokguk is almost ready,” you say instead. “Do you want to take a shower while I get everything ready?”

Hoseok is reluctant to let go, too, but he’s at his best when he has a task. Needs something to accomplish, something to check off on his imaginary to-do list, so he nods. Pulls away and immediately misses your warmth. Takes your face in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. Thank you, it says. I needed you here.

You already know, though. You always do.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x you #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #hoseok imagine #jhope imagine #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok au #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #fic: jess drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes

[made-this-cause-why-not]

Jordan and Marie have lunch

Drabble, 709 words, M rating for sexual themes

Something that many didn’t know about Jordan Li is that they are a tease. Not many people grew close enough to them to hear their quick jabs and subtle sarcastic remarks. Even in their hookups, they often took efficiency over theatrics, making their reputation on campus to be a glowing one, if not entirely accurate. 

But no, not many people know that they are a tease as well as Marie did. The general population didn’t know about how Jordan could edge her for hours, smiling the whole time. How they unraveled and learned her entire body just to see how to get her riled up and keep her there under their close watch.

For example, Jordan was eating lunch. Now- Marie wasn’t into food play, but the way that Jordan was eating that peach made her reconsider. She never really understood their sexual undertones, even after Emma explained it and showed her a scene of a kid fucking one (it anything that turned her off of peaches even further). But right now, Jordan was eating a peach and she doesn’t think she's ever wanted to be a food as much as she did now.

The entire group was gathered in the dining hall for lunch, and Emma had begun talking about something that a girl in class had done when they initially pulled out the peach. Marie had looked away from her friend for a moment to see Jordan. They’re hair fell in a swoop to their side as the two made eye contact. Slowly, and very deliberately, Jordan took a bite of the fruit. Juice trickled from the fruit down their wrist and chin. Jordan swore softly, and licked the juices from their wrist. Marie watched as the second trail trickled down their throat, past their adams apple to disappear beneath their gray wife beater. 

Fuck.

Jordan looked over at Emma and nodded, affirming they were listening before turning back to Marie.  Full lips covered the peach as they sucked the  juices from the crater they had left. Marie watched their throat bob as they swallowed, crossing and uncrossing her legs underneath the table. Looking around the table she sees Sam and Andre have joined the conversation, listing off ways to exact revenge on the girl. Luke passes the role of mediator to Cate as he scrolls through his phone between bites of pizza. 

She turns back to Jordan and sees a smile playing on the corner of their lips. They take another bite which proves to be messier than the first. Juice spills onto their fingers and Jordan, being an animal and the devil incarnate, licks their fingers. Not just their fingers but their palm as well, their tongue flicking in the webbed space between their ring and middle finger. All while staring directly at her.

A pleasant shiver runs through Marie as she remembers the last time those brown eyes licked her. Should she be this turned on over someone eating a fruit? Over fruit nectar? Part of her feels like a horny teenage boy seeing a sex ed textbook for the first time. Another part of her feels like she might die if she continues watching.��

Clutching her stomach she leans forward  in her seat. “Hey I’m starting to get cramps so I am going to head out.” This is only half way a lie. She will get her period the day after tomorrow, and when it comes cramps will certainly follow. She is just making a preemptive leave. 

Around the table every one voices their sympathies. “Hey, I can go with you if you want,” Emma offers, zipping up her bookbag.

“No it’s fine,” Marie reassures with a tight smile she hopes comes off as a grimace. “You have class in twenty- I just want to lay down a bit.” 

Emma nods. Marie can tell by the look on her face that she is all too willing to skip class for her roommate, but also doesn’t want to risk being overbearing. “Okay well, I have Advil over the sink, help yourself.” Marie nods as she gathers her things. With a final goodbye and walks off, towards the student dorms. Passing through the Quad she sends a quick text to Jordan. 

Your dorm. 5 minutes.

#gen v #jordan li #marie moreau #limoreau #mariejordan #eating a peach is hot #something about the mess it creates is chefs kiss #Figure out who is hornier: EXTREME EDITION #Jordan Li is a tease and none of you can convince me other wise #Not shown: Jordan Li sprinting across campus after seeing that text #fanfic #drabble #one shot

[lorata]

so the exam week is currently starting over here -advanced biology is the first one for me ;)- so to calm my nerves, could i learn about how your dear victors would cope if they had chosen an academic path?

i do not have the most academically minded bunch, to put it diplomatically, but here goes

answers under the cut for length

Ronan: business or law, probably, something douchey but everyone forgives him because he's just that charming. however he'd be a little bit adam parrish in that his entire backstory is a total fiction and nobody realizes none of them know who he really is

Adessa: biology, genetics, behavioural psychology, i don't even know, she'd want to do everything and probably does multiple degrees. she'd be an absolute terror and "um, actually" everyone so they'd hate her but they'd also fight to be in her highly coveted and exclusive study group sessions

Odin: he'd do very well, obviously, either something obnoxious like classics (affectionate) or coming out of left field with natural science. doesn't really need to study but takes meticulous and beautiful notes

Misha: she drops out of high school in every modern AU i've put her in, so this one is tough! i can only imagine her as a campus cryptid who sneaks into classes without actually enrolling because she's interested in the content and no one knows who she is but they're all afraid to ask. she doesn't do assignments because she's not a student but once in a while she'll turn in something startlingly sharp

Claudius: music, obviously, like if he had to. i think he'd be one of those people who had a rotten time in the early years but liked doing his degree once he got there. assuming he gets recognition & accommodation for the dyslexia i think he'd manage all right

Devon: i think he'd do a degree in social work and he'd be very good at the people aspect and the practicum and all that but the adhd used to have him staring into space and missing things in class as a bb so i think the actual sit-in-chair part of coursework is always his least favourite. the centre is, for better or worse, very active and hands-on; university, not so much. studying has him lying flat on his back with his book laid over his face groaning aloud into the air. he'd need to find a cute boy and play 'one kiss for every fact i remember'

Petra: legitimately I don't know WHAT she'd do for a degree but I know that studying does not come easy to her (undiagnosed learning disability) and she pushes herself to near exhaustion to get top of the class if there are stakes involved (e.g. a scholarship, or Selene). she studies with Dash and works herself to the brink but she does it! and then eventually someone notices and says hey maybe you should get tested, and she resists because what are you implying! but she does, and what do you mean it's not this hard for everyone, what do you mean it could be easier, and she has a full out crying fit right there in the office. and then she still has to work hard but it's not AS hard, you know what i mean?

Brutus: struggled with this one because again, blue collar boy, BUT i genuinely think he'd like sports medicine! he'd need glasses and a dyslexia diagnosis but he'd throw himself at studying the same as at a cliff wall: silently, with grim determination, one step at a time

Emory: another one who in modern AUs like ... runs a bakery giving skills training to at-risk kids and volunteers at the local community centre all with a high school diploma, so my brain squints trying to imagine her in academia. maybe child psychology for teen therapy/counselling? like the others she'd need help with the learning disability but she is very stubborn when she wants to do a thing. flashcards work very well for her bc she can activate memory

Alec: the kind of student who studies super hard and still comes second to the one who rocks up the day of the exam without studying at all, and he tries very hard not to be annoyed about it, but he is, and he knows it's a character flaw, but oh well. med school is hard but he loves every minute of it

Creed: doesn't actually know how to study. he just ... comes to class, understands the material and does well? is that bad? people always make studying sound super complicated, but oh well. 100% poli sci / communications major

Lyme: i can't decide if she'd be on the kinesiology / sports medicine side or over on the social work / child psychologist side (i've written AUs with her doing both), it really depends. either way she's pretty focused and doesn't socialize much until people from class drag her out because they're afraid her brain is going to explode

Enobaria: i'm imagining 5 hour energy + 4 loko + redbull study sessions that leave everyone amazed she's still alive and a little bit afraid, honestly, but she needs the buzz to get her through it because the content is fun but the actual studying is so boring. i think it would help her to record lectures and listen to them while running but it would take her a while to realize it because her whole childhood is people trying to get her to sit down and do her homework ~properly

Nero: definitely social work but with a minor in like ... philosophy? poetry? something like that anyway. i want to say he's pretty quiet in class but does very well on exams and it startles his classmates the first time, but the profs tell him he needs to participate in discussions if he wants a good grade and he's like ............. y tho, but he does after

not sure for my less-developed characters but hopefully this is fun!

#lorata answers #anonymous #we must be killers: tales from district 2

[sleepy-gee]

ache - hanahaki!coriolanus snow/sejanus plinth

is it pain, or is it love? he can't tell anymore. all he wants is the antidote.

a/n: these bitches live rent free in my head. also listen to cherry waves by deftones while writing a big chunk of this so listen to that for better vibes while reading <3

word count: 2.2k

trigger warnings: emetophobia (descriptions and depictions), blood, injuries, illness, cliffhanger ending

i.

It started as a small scratch in the back of his throat, an annoying itch that brought up the constant urge to clear his throat. It brought a rasp with it, making him sound slightly more gruff and intimidating than he normally did- There's an upside to everything, right?

The scratch persisted after a few days, developing into a full-blown cough. Great. Another thing he had to hide in class, along with the rumbling of his stomach and his headaches, while also paying close attention to every lecture given. The boy had refilled his bottle of water more times than he could count, hoping it would help soothe his throat somewhat.

Tigris suggested he take a day off and stay home, but like that would do him any good- If he wants that prize, he has to be there every day. He's gone in with worse, ghastly flu's and killer migraines. It'll all be worth it in the end.

“You look miserable, though.” She pointed out one day, sliding a bowl of her famous cabbage stew in front of him.

Coriolanus stirred the mixture, bored of the conversation already. “It's just a cough and run-of-the-mill stress.”

“You know that's not what I mean.” Tigris sat down beside him with her own bowl. “You look like you've got the flu again.” She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Something worse than that, even.”

Coriolanus nearly flinched away from the touch. He was so out of it nowadays. “If.. If it persists, I'll see about perhaps getting it checked out.” They both knew they couldn’t afford it, but hey, a kid can dream, right? The Plinth's do owe him a few favors.. And they'd never tell. They were too kind.. It was a risk, but so was his health.

He knew Tigris wasn't completely satisfied with that answer, but it was the best he’d offer her. Beggars can’t be choosers. “Fine.”

ii.

Coriolanus began to worry himself when he started to cough up blood. The first time, he played it off as sinus irritation of some sort, but when he found himself coughing up more blood than phlegm or spit, that's when he realized it was something.

The coughing fits got longer, too, triggering his gag reflex. God, he hated it. The feeling of acid forcing its way up his throat, the shakiness it brought to his limbs. He wasn't weak, per se, just already malnourished, and not being able to keep anything down certainly didn’t help.

He'd have to excuse himself from class at least once a day and bolt down the seemingly endless marble hallways of the Academy just to make it to the bathrooms in time, not even making it to the stalls a handful of times. Blood rinses off porcelain fairly quickly, thankfully.

His mind raced with possibilities. Could this be a stomach bug of some kind? A strange flu? Something entirely different? Maybe he should get it checked out, but he'd have to be subtle when he asked for aid.

The Plinth's. Sejanus.That made his stomach churn, and his throat close up. Breakfast threatened to resurface as he thought of the Plinth boy. They were neither friend nor foe, just two students going about their days who sat next to each other- That's what Coriolanus thought, at least. Sejanus was attached like a puppy. It was endearing in a way. Pathetic in another. He showed the boy basic human kindness and got worshiped in return. It kept his ego well-fed, which was nice, considering he was starved in all other areas.

An elbow nudged his own. Speak of the devil. “You alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Sejanus asked him innocently. Shit.

Coriolanus nodded, swallowing thickly. Here comes more. “Just fine.. Please excuse me.”

iii.

Seeing a regular doctor would do him no good, he deduced as he stared at the blood-stained petal in the palm of his hand. When the hell did he manage to eat a flower? It wasn't a rose petal. He knew the shape and texture of roses like the back of his hand. Was Tigris slipping new ingredients into their meals, and he just hadn’t realized it yet?

He could worry about whatever the hell that was later, for now, he had another handful of lectures to attend to. Tigris had once again begged him to stay home- He had never missed a day in his life, the Academy would understand- but anything less than perfection was out of the question.

Maybe he was pushing it a bit. The constant purging caused him to lose a lot of his strength. Was his hearing always that fuzzy?

Between the hunger pangs and the newfound difficulty breathing, his focus was slipping, too. He needed some sort of medical intervention, but his pride got in the way. Medical intervention also meant getting a loan, and the only rich kid who seemed to like him was Sejanus.

That funny fluttering feeling again. He'd gotten better at suppressing the random gagging, finding it second nature. The scratching got worse, too, borderline painful. Like vines were clawing their way up his throat. Maybe there were some back there, given as there was a flower this morning.

Others noticed his deteriorating state, too. He could tell by the way they stared at him- Most judging, others scanning for information that could be constructed into gossip later. He wanted attention, but not this kind. The only one who actually said anything kind was Sejanus.

The last person he wanted to see. And funnily enough, the one person who made the ache a little better.

Sejanus lived the life Coriolanus deserved. The one that was owed to him by birth. He should hate him.

So why did his heart nearly stop when Sejanus grabbed his arm to stable him in the hallways after he had nearly collapsed from exhaustion?

Why do the little comments he makes have the biggest impact?

iv.

Two months. He's coughing up bunches of flowers now. Carnations, primarily. Some babies breath. A mocking white rose here and there. It's painful. His throat feels torn up beyond belief, lungs never able to gulp down enough air and stomach barely able to keep in whatever he manages to scarf down.

He can't keep going like this. He needs some sort of intervention.

A doctor's visit is too risky. He doesn't need to be known as some sort of freak, harboring a new disease. Maybe a florist? The idea makes him laugh. He has enough for the main pieces of an arrangement. Maybe he'll start spewing leather leaf and eucalyptus, then he'll be able to complete it. What a hilariously morbid thought. It wouldn't look half bad.

There's only one doctor who's crazy enough to possibly understand this, and it's a horrible option, but it's the best he's got- Dr. Gaul. How would he even approach this? “Hello, Dr. Gaul. May I bother you for a moment? I’m purging flowers.” Maybe he had just finally lost it.

If it persisted, he’d go, he told himself. Just another day or two. This was the last thing he needed, especially with exam season right around the corner. He'd lost so much valuable study time because of this goddamn disease. His grades were slipping, too. Not enough to relinquish his position as the top student, but just enough to cause his professors to pull him to the side, and Sejanus, too, the doting idiot that he was.

“I know you're saying you're fine, but I can see it in your face. You're not.” Sejanus said one day. “You look nearly as pale as your hair, and your uniform looks loose on you.”

“Your concern is flattering.” Coriolanus said, not turning away from his locker yet. Damn textbook refused to come out. Maybe it held too much. “But I can promise you, I'm just fine. Snow’s honor.”

“It's not the worst thing in the world to have someone care about you, and to accept it, y’know?” He asked with his district drawl. Why was his heart fluttering?

As much as he hated to admit it, Sejanus was right. His help, he could accept. When the other was nearby, it felt a little easier to breathe and think, his own personal painkiller. Coriolanus couldn't explain why, but the relief he felt overode his curiosity. Maybe he'd have to keep him around more often and sit closer to him in their shared classes. He wasn't awful company.

Coriolanus turned his head to look at the boy, and his world turned upside down. The black dots at the edge of his vision extended their phantom arms and pulled him down into the abyss. He was barely able to register his body hitting the ground.

v.

When he was able to finally swim his way out of the inky abyss back into consciousness, he found himself in Dr. Gaul's office. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling him to get help for once.

He found himself lying on a surprisingly lush bed, in a dimly lit room, sheets soft as silk and pillow so plush he thought it was made of clouds. He nearly groaned with relief as he rolled over. At least his bones could rest. He couldn't day the same for his organs, which felt like they were being torn apart and rearranged with every movement he made.

"Mr. Snow", the Gamemaker' voice echoed from the end of the hallway. The sound of stilettos hitting the ground followed. How annoying. "You've found yourself in an interesting situation."

"Tell me about it." He wanted to say, but even moving his tongue the slightest made him feel nauseous.

"Hanahaki, we call it. The disease of love. Flowers grow in the lungs, squeezing the life out of you one vine at a time." Dr. Gaul said. "Makes you wish the butterflies in your stomach thing were real, hm? Sounds a lot more preferable."

"Love?" Coriolanus swallowed thickly. Love?

"Love. Unrequited.. Or at least, that's what's thought."

Love was the cause of it? Really? That was just pathetic, really. “I don't love many.”

“That's what you think.” Dr. Gaul switched on the lights, causing Coriolanus to squint. They were obnoxiously bright. “The sooner you admit it to yourself, the sooner we can get you feeling better. In the meantime, we have medication that should help the flowers shrivel up in your poor lungs. It won't dispose of them completely, but..” She handed him a pill bottle.

Coriolanus eyed the bottle carefully before unscrewing the lid and popping two into his mouth. He barely managed to swallow it before an onslaught of carnations nearly as red as his blood spewed from his lips, falling into the trash can conveniently in front of him. “.. I may have failed to mention that one of the side effects is instantaneous nausea. It's still in your system, don't worry.”

Coriolanus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, careful not to stain his precious school uniform with any of the miserable fluids. "What will cause it to disappear completely?"

"Having the feelings requited, of course. Better fix yourself up quick, you have a guest." The doctor taunted before leaving the room, dimming the lights slightly on her way out. Thank God.

A few moments later, a distressed Sejanus came rushing into the room, looking almost as pale as his classmate. "Coryo?"

"Hey." He attempted a grin. It looked more like a grimace.

"Woo.. Thank God you're okay." He kneeled by Coriolanus' bedside. "You had me worried there. Your skin went all pale and.. You collapsed. Coughed up some blood. Did she say what it was? Are you okay?" It was pure word vomit. The fluttering feeling returned in his heart.

"Yeah.. I know what it is. She gave me some medication." Coriolanus shook the pill bottle, not willing to offer any more information.

"Well, what is it? If I can ask." Of course he would ask.

".. Some silly disease."

Sejanus didn't skip a beat. "Is it curable?"

".. She says so, but between you and me? I don't trust her word on anything regarding this."

"I don't blame you, Coryo." Sejanus pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped away a strand of drying blood/saliva that sat by Coriolanus' lips. The gesture made the flowers threaten to resurface. "What has she said?"

Coriolanus found himself leaning into the lingering touch against his will. ".. You won't believe me."

"Try me. I saw what I believe was a cross-hybrid between a lady bird and hedgehog." Sejanus snorted, bringing a smile to the others' lips.

".. Unrequited love."

vi.

After a grueling few hours of recovery, he was dismissed to glass, Dr. Gaul having granted him a full pardon like he was a criminal or something. Sejanus greeted him outside of the class, making sure to pay him special attention. The boy became his confidante for everything involving the disease. Somehow, it felt easier to talk to Sejanus about it. About everything, actually. He should've given the boy a chance earlier. He had a nice smile. And a nice laugh.

The vines in his lungs constricted. And that's when it hit him.

#fanfiction #the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #snowjanus #coriolanus x sejanus #mlm #hanahaki #pre canon

[morganalatina21]

Manipulating Death: Chapter Eleven

(Or maybe... Season two, chapter one??)

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: I'm sorry it took me so long to post this one, but I wanted to get it done even though I'm so mf sleepy rn so just... enjoy!

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

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Everyday, Y/n would wake up in Regulus' bed, sometimes with him already awake and just waiting for her still laying down, others he'd already be down in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

The people living there were usually very suspicious of his cooking, so Lupin would lie and say he watched him prepare it and assure them there are no poison on the plates.

"I'm saving my poison for Mundungus Fletcher." He said once, the man who attempted to steal the locket he died trying to obtain would be very deserving of poisoning.

The kids didn't went back to Hogwarts, Remus writing an obnoxiously long letter about how they were so mentally unstable due to Sirius' death and Voldemort's return being official, it would be better no to risk it.

So weekly they'd receive a package full of quick questions and a more detailed test about each subject.

Hermione was far from content, missing sitting in class and holding her hand up high to answer a question and be received by a gentle smile and a small number of points to her house.

But they couldn't risk going back and accidentally spill something that could compromise them, plus Harry and Ron wouldn't be the best actors for faking grief.

All that summed up to the fact Y/n was still recovering from her almost two weeks visit to the dead world.

Different from the Black brothers, no one pulled her back, she had to force her soul into her body, making a hole in the layer with her size. Fortunately, the Death Eater was way further into the other side of life, so no one else could reach that portal.

Also, she hadn't spat out her possessor yet.

The Potter would usually feel it tingle inside her, making her blood pressure and heartbeats slow down, and she'd almost pass out.

On days like this, they'd take turns on feeding her aching body. Sometimes it'd only accept if it was Harry putting the spoon into her mouth, other days only one of the Black brothers would success.

Because of that, there was one more person far from happy with this arrangement: Molly Weasley.

She wasn't a big fan of letting her son in a house with three undead wizards, but Ron would talk to her through the fireplace everyday.

So they'd live like this for a couple months.

Once all of them got in a fifteen minute tangent about which house she'd get sorted into if she was at Hogwarts.

"Of course she'd be a Ravenclaw!" Hermione argued, with one of Y/n's journal about the possessors on hand. "This is bloody brilliant! She's so smart."

"If that was the case, you would be a Raven too!" Harry countered, sitting across from her, with his sister right behind him. "She's a Gryffindor, that's so obvious!"

"I agree with Harry." Sirius intervened. "She jumped into that veil with no hesitation and faced three Death Eaters alone. She's one of us for sure."

"I don't think so, Pads." Remus said calmly. "Of course, she's brave and there's no doubt, but she did all of that because she knew what would happen, I'm confident she'd be in Ravenclaw."

"Actually I think Hufflepuff would be a great house for her." Ron came into the discussion. "I mean, she did all of that to be loyal to her family and Regulus, she's willing to help what others thought was beyond help."

"But her motivations are selfish, it's her parents. Not to mention the ambition! Winning over death? She's a Slytherin." Regulus barged in, sitting close to Y/n this entire time.

The single thought that the Potter would be in the snake house gained boos and disagreeing shouts the exact instant.

"Just because you put their colors on her doesn't make her a snake, little brother. She's one of the lions!"

"Absolutely not! She's a Ravenclaw!"

Y/n just watched all of that, laying in the bed and sometimes murmuring this to her brother, that would explode in a laugh immediately.

She didn't really cared about their discussion; she knew which house she belonged to —and more than that, which she wanted to belong.

The girl wasn't kidding when she said Regulus was like a keychange that came with her and they were a package deal.

Whenever they engaged in conversations with her, Regulus would be close enough to seem like a shadow. The man was so protective over Y/n too, always coming behind her and ask for a break so she could rest.

And taking that into consideration, of course the possessor would come out the only time he wasn't around.

They talked about how to destroy the locket for weeks and even though he'd be the one to know the most about it, he refused every attempt the others had to go out —always saying it'd be an unworthy risk and he would not leave her side.

But Y/n had to convince him.

"Are you sure?" He asked for the millionth time, stopping for ten minutes every time he got a little bit dressed. "What if something happens?"

"Reggie..." She called, holding his face and he had flashbacks to the night she died, opting to hold her arm tight just in case something happened. "Nothing went wrong all this time, do you really think the only time you'd leave my side something would magically come along and murder me?"

"That's literally what we just been through!"

"I know." Y/n rolled her eyes. "But I was alone then. Here I have one of the smarts witches ever and... those two too." The man laughed lightly at that, still not letting go of her arm. "Nothing's gonna happen."

After some minutes of hesitation, Regulus finally nodded.

"Oh Merlin he's gonna be furious." She sighed about an hour later, turning around on the bed, drenched in cold sweat while being surrounded by the other teenagers.

A bucket sat right by her side while Hermione was looking around through her calligraphy on potion jars, Ron kept a cold towel against her forehead and Harry tried to reason with the other possessor on the room to help his sister.

"Please you need to get better!" Ron begged, moving the towel around her face. "I really don't wanna know what the Cruciatus feel like."

"Well..." Y/n coughed. "He has been wanting to hex you two for quite some time now."

Ron's face turned into a crying frown which just made her laugh even worse.

"Didn't you had two possessors?" Hermione asked when she noticed Harry was heavily talking to a single creature.

"I assumed mine would be really big and hard to control so Regulus' went to look for the ones that escaped and the men of the house for some help." The Potter muttered, immediately turning around and lying some dark goo that was far from being a possessor, but was a big start.

"Oh God, oh Merlin." Harry groaned, concern writing all over his face.

"Relax." His sister asked, fingers gripping to the mattress. "I'm gonna be fine. I always do."

Y/n coughed harshly almost throwing up her entire throat, eyes watering and face feeling numb. The possessor was moving inside her, claws piercing deep into her organs to hold itself.

"Does miss Potter need help?" Kreacher voice came from the door, sounding genuinely worried.

She so her head no as some of its paws stared showing from her open mouth, making Ron whine and steal the bucket to throw up himself.

And she was right, the possessor took an age to come out, and when it did, it was huge, twice the bed size and sharp glowing red eyes shined all over his face.

"I-its massive." Hermione whimpered, hands shaking as she unscrew a potion bottle to feed Y/n, but the creature growled, taking a step forward, making it clear his intentions to go back to her body. "No. NO!"

The girl jumped, standing up and holding her wand in the most threatening way possible, Ron and Harry doing the same.

"If you wanna take someone, take me!" The Potter boy shouted, making himself look bigger and cover his sister unconscious body fully.

The possessor screeched and advanced towards him, Harry closed his eyes to accept the fate if it meant his twin would be safe.

But before the cold paws of death could reach him, the others possessors came into the room, all forming a barrer in front of them, guarding the teenagers.

"Is there a way to take him to the basement?" Kreacher asked, standing on the bed.

"I don't know, are they repelled by something?"

"It doesn't say anything on her notes."

"Oh God we're gonna die here and I couldn't make mom a rich woman yet!"

Y/n's possessor starting making himself look larger and more intimidating, preparing to attack, when the three wizards came bursting through the door.

Regulus didn't like like himself, neither the one from the last days, or the one that first met. No, he was a different man, rage and darkness filled his eyes as he forced the possessor the withdraw and took him to the basement, Kreacher sealing the door.

Grotesque screams escaped the possessor in a way they never heard before, and it gave the teenagers a chill.

"Hide before he comes back! Now! Go go go go!" Sirius instructed, the kids rushing outside her room to lock themselves in the shared one.

Sirius was with him when the possessor found them and Regulus immediately knew something was wrong. It didn't even mattered, he didn't tried to understand the creature, already rushing to apparate with bloodthirsty look on his eyes.

The younger Black appeared on the door and Sirius pushed a smile to his face, which was badly received.

"Leave." Was all he said.

When Y/n woke up a couple of minutes later she was greeted by a very frowny Regulus during right in front of her.

"Geez, who bit you?"

He didn't answered, standing there in silence, barely blinking. To say he was mad was an understatement, man was fucking fuming.

"Listen, I-"

"What did I said would happen?"

"Reggie-"

"And what happened?" He interrupted once again.

"I'm not dead, I-"

"You could've been." He spat out. "Those kids don't know shit about all of this, they're not help! I told you! But no, you couldn't stop being a reckless and dumb bitch for once!"

His cheek hurt, and neck snapped to the side. She hasn't slapped him, she punched him.

Gathered all her forces to do just that, doesn't matter how badly her fist would hurt later.

"This dumb bitch knew exactly what she was doing." She bit back. "The possessor wouldn't come out until I wasn't around people who should be dead, it was eating me from the inside." His eyes went wide as he voice became louder as she spoke. "Don't fucking turn it on me when I'm already exhausted! Now get the fuck out cause I don't wanna have to get up and kick your ass."

He blinked, hating all of this and wanting to reach out to hug her and give her the comfort she needed after everything she'd been through.

But Y/n wouldn't back down. "Now, Regulus."

The girl ordered and turned around, back facing him as she prepared to take some sleep.

Slowly, he got up and walked baby steps to the door, wishing she'd change her mind and just ask him to lay down together.

But she didn't, and he left.

God, he felt horrible, it had been months since they fought so bad they wouldn't sleep together. And of course, just like last time, he turned on her his frustrations.

You really didn't get anything from that, did you? Bloody idiot!

Three hours and a half passed with the house silent like a tomb when Regulus broke it, knocking on her door.

After some quiet moments thinking she wouldn't answer, Kreacher opens the door from the inside and the Black finally sees her again. Lying on the mattress looking so tired and weak, and she wouldn't stare at him.

"I made your favorite." He stated, approaching the bed, plate on his hand. "You need to eat, I hope you like it."

Regulus thought so much of what to do, but he was never one to apologize. Holding her to sleep wouldn't work this time. So maybe some acts of service would do, showing her he did care so much for her.

"Do you want me to feed it to you?"

"You hate doing that." She answered.

"Do you want me to?"

Y/n looked up for the first time and saw sorry in his eyes. She sighed and sat up, leaving space for him to sit in front of her, which he did.

Despite the offer, she chose to eat it by herself.

"Shit's really good." She murmured, putting a small smile on his face and the girl mirrored him.

At that time, they both wanted the exact same thing: for Regulus to lean in and seal their lips together after apologizing lowly.

But their kissing didn't really followed a pattern. Sometimes it would be before or after breakfast, other times he'd secretly pull her and land a peck in her lips with the thrill of others possibly catching them.

It wasn't everyday too, she never knew when they'd find their way to her lips.

She was fine with him doing things his way, but sometimes a small impulse of wanting something more would bloom.

And he wanted to kiss her more, just not having the courage to do so, even though he did that before, doubts ran on his mind.

What if she doesn't want to? What if I misread the situation? What if..?

So despite both wanting that, they didn't kiss.

And they'd continue to not do things they wanted to for a very long time.

Taglist: @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea @ok-boke @warcelia @danyxthirstae01 @b-tchymoon @lovely-maryj @adriannamirse @seesaw-it @awritingtree @regulusblackloverr @coffeeaddictednymph @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @teamspideyman @the-sander-fander @mushroom-tears @zomb1edoll @bunny24sstuff

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Next

#manipulating death series #harry potter #regulus black #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin #black brothers #albus dumbledore #dumbledore #order of the phoenix #regulus deserved better #regulus black x reader

[poorshadowspaintedqueens]

what was your college experience like in terms of academics? becoming a doctor?

Hmmm, that’s a rather broad question. If we’re talking about undergrad, those were four amazing years, particularly from an academic standpoint. I was very fortunate in that my parents were paying for my education and I was attending an enormous land-grant university at in-state rates, which meant I was able to take full advantage of opportunities not available to a lot of students. Mostly in terms of taking extra classes every term and participating in three different study abroad programs. I started off double-majoring in English and History, and ended up with a triple-major in English, French, and Medieval & Renaissance Studies (which, until I started undergrad, I had no idea was even a field of study).

I knew I wanted to go into academia so I did what people were supposed to do in those circumstances, namely apply to graduate school. I applied to 9 programs the first time round and only got into one, so that choice was comparatively easy. It was a one-year M.Phil. in European Literature and Culture at the University of Cambridge, and while I was there, I determined that I wanted to stay on and do my PhD on the French Romantics and their relationships with and reworkings of English Renaissance drama. Alas, the two examiners on my master’s thesis had a disagreement, and my thesis did not received the necessary marks, so I ended up having to go home, get a retail job, and reapply to graduate schools for the following academic year.

When I reapplied with an M.Phil. to my name, I got into three graduate programs. I made the deeply questionable financial decision to take an unfunded place in Oxford because it had been my dream since I was a kid to study there. But also this was in 2006 and things were very different. I was told by plenty of people, including my academic advisors, that it was worth the risk to have a PhD from Oxford behind my name.

From a financial standpoint, it was probably the worst decision of my life. However, the three years I spent in Oxford were probably amongst the most intellectually fulfilling I’ve ever had. It’s probably all for the best that I was still at a point in my life where I was capable of ignoring racist microaggressions, and that I was in a stable and committed long-term relationship notwithstanding the three thousand miles of ocean between us, because aside from the intellectual fulfillment, those were rough years. I took out a mountain of student loans and I lived like a hermit, working up to three jobs at a time to afford my monthly rent. My department put me through the wringer, and I nearly quit at one point because they’d almost convinced me I wasn’t good enough.

To some extent, I finished out of spite, to show everyone who’d doubted me that I could actually do it. I then turned my D.Phil. thesis into a book in less than two years because I was convinced it would get me a job.

Narrator: It did not get her a job.

I am now 14 years out from my PhD. I have worked for everything from Ivy-League-adjacent private colleges to a rather notorious for-profit university that happened to be located ten minutes away from where I was living at the time. And the entire structure of academia has changed--or, at the very least, stratified to a point where it is practically impossible to get any job at all, let alone one with a decent salary and benefits. So if this question was posed with the intention of finding out how to succeed, I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person.

This is not to say that I don’t recommend that people go to graduate school if they want to and have the resources to do it. Especially if you come from a minority or marginalized group, because academia desperately needs those important voices. But if you do, know that the system is rigged and that it takes an enormous amount of resources, effort, and struggle for comparatively little reward. Know that if it doesn’t work out, it is not your fault. And always--always--have a backup plan.

#vanitas vanitatem et omnia vanitas #academia #academics #graduate school

[foggyfanfic]

And finally, 12 year old Octavia!

Bruno's youngest. Octavia is just chilling my dude, she's vibing, she's having a grand old time. It does make her a little sad, knowing that her birth family either abandoned her, or lost her and thinks she's dead, but look! She has super powers!

People usually assume she's a bit of a tomboy because of the clothes she wears, but she actually has a lot of really pretty, frilly dresses she doesn't want to get dirty. She steals her Papa's or older brother's clothes to practice using her gift in. The one dark spot in her otherwise perfect life is that her gift is Useful, and she knows from watching Luisa that having a useful gift is not necessarily a good thing. Octavia spends a lot of time worrying about what her life will be like when she feels ready to start helping the village with her gift.

Spends the most time with her Mama, since Leandra is better at lying than Bruno, but is also the only person in the family who really lets Bruno spoil them so they spend plenty of quality time together in the market. She also has a similarly dry sense of humor as Bruno, although most people don't notice since she plays her jokes straight and delivers them in the same cheerful tone she says everything else. When people don't realize she's kidding she delights in doubling down, she once convinced her entire class she doesn't know what a donkey is while standing in front of a donkey by insisting it was the weirdest horse she's ever seen. Her teacher sent her home with a note and Bruno was too busy laughing to say anything about it. Leandra tried to be the responsible parent and tell her it wasn't nice to trick her classmates like that, but then gave up and helped her with ways to keep the bit going.

Sometimes feels like the odd sibling out, since Gabriel and Amada are technically related, but then again, Gabriel is the only boy so she figures it balances out. Especially since Gabriel was so happy to have another sister to coddle, and didn't hesitate to submit her to the full gambit of overprotective big brother-isms. Her and Amada bond over acting annoyed with Gabriel, although Octavia privately delights in the ease with which he accepts her as a sister. At the story's beginning, she is actually closer to her two siblings than they are to each other, since Amada only sees Gabe as her smotheringly protective big brother, while Gabe carries a lot of guilt for the fact that Amada's mother was probably killed by his birth father. If the two talked to each other, Gabe would discover that most of Amada's problems revolve around the fact that she's pretty sure she's better off with her mother having been killed, and Amada would discover how deeply Gabe's fear and pain run. But they don't talk to each other about these things, and won't without intervention. Intervention that's certainly not about to come from Octavia because...

As far as the family dynamic goes, her parents are accidentally teaching her to do what they do, treat the symptoms of the problem and dance around the actual source. If the cycle would have been allowed to continue, Gabe would have been the one accidentally placing his fears on the shoulders of the rest of the family, Amada would have ended up arguing with him about it and accidentally alienating him (taking Bruno's role in a less passive way), and Octavia would have ended up playing mediator. She would have kept them from completely falling apart, but would never risk asking them to talk about the source of their issues.

Her gift is inherently optimistic, since she can mold the earth itself into new homes. While it is technically elemental in nature, she personally sees it as a way to create, to grow the community around her. It is a gift that looks towards the future and sees a loving village.

#bruno madrigal #Madrigal OC #Encanto #Encanto AU #Love and Fury #Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure

[jokest3r]

My COD OC, Matvey-Lukyan Volkov-Makarov, son of Vladimir Makarov and Yuri Volkov sitting atop Pripyat Cafe !

"Happy endings do not happen to people like me, my former... colleague once said to me, you must keep running, never look back, in a way he was right. I only wish he told me what the future would hold when I went still."

Full Name: Matvey-Lukyan Volkov Makarov (Matvey or "gift of God" and Lukyan "light" or "bringer of light" were mutually decided upon by both his adoptive fathers though most only refer to him as Matvey, reasons for his name being only known between his two fathers.)

Otherly Known As: The Kid(Most of TF141), Traitor or Deserter(Labelled by most of Makarov's contacts privately), Маленькая звезда or "Little Star" by his father Makarov, Митя or "Mitya" by family, The Child(By Hired Mercenaries), Sol (Known only by the dead and repressed memories), The Slippery One

Age: 17(MW2) 18-19(MW3)

Ethnicity: Tajik

Nationality: Legally holds no citizenship of any country however it was debated that he may have legally been born under a different name in Tajikistan before being dumped on the Russian Border.

Blood-Type: O+

Spoken Languages: Russian, English, and light Ukrainian his grandparents would teach him as a child.

Height: 5'7 (The short one of the family that gave most reason to baby him more due to his height though it didn't bother him much unless he needed to grab something up high. He'll figure it out, he always does.)

Matvey was only a small baby when he was left along the Russian border that connects Kazakhstan and Russia. Whether he was left there to die to the elements or the hopes of a kind soul taking him over the border is still left up to debate and one Matvey does not think on too closely. Fate or divine intervention was blessed upon him that day as the tank that would have killed him stopped mere feet from him and two men made their way towards him. And then it was there, that his fate was sealed.

Matvey although close to both his fathers, was put at an arm's length due to not wanting him in anyway in the family business when it came to the Ultranationalist Party until he had turned 12 and started receiving training from specifically chosen tutors and instructors hired by his father, Makarov. However, all the training had done was show that Matvey was not necessarily a "good" soldier or was "fit" for any combat. So instead, he was trained in acrobatics and escape tactics, along with the spare knife throwing classes. Matvey was homeschooled his entire life, both his parents relatively worried about the security risk of letting Matvey legally be known to the general public as he grew older. In this choice and further choices, he legally did not exist. No health visits were documented, no legal documents, not even notes, he was a phantom.

Due to his almost solitary and sheltered upbringing, he became a very quiet and reserved person making those around him that did not know him believe him to be almost antisocial however that was anything but the truth. Matvey's emotions are written on his sleeve, but nearly impenetrable. However, for a spare few, he was a loud, and almost entirely different person with a lot of snark and fiery rebelliousness running through his veins.

Due to circumstances his mind had foretold time and time again his family was torn apart, not out of stress but need to remove themselves. Yuri left first, and Matvey desperately ran after him. Two years Matvey has walked a solitary life, save for stint with a freedom group he doesn't dare try to recall, and now lives in the abandoned city of Pripyat running away from ghosts of the past and hired mercenaries sent to retrieve the missing son of Makarov and those who would prefer to use him for their own political agendas, closing in. He will do what must be done, he has to.

jokest3r Note: (Ask him anything, literally almost anything, or ask me how he would react to certain situations or people and I'll give you an answer ! May also draw interactions if I have the time. Collabs welcome.)

(This is sorta outdated, his outfit seen here is getting retired but most of it still holds up to my idea of current Matvey.)

#call of duty #call of duty oc #cod oc #cod oc: Matvey-Lukyan Volkov-Makarov #vladimir makarov #yuri cod #makayuri #matvey volkov-makarov #cw: guns #i left most up for mystery though I do know everything about him #fun trivia for everyone #he's a contortionist #ya know just without the circus act #i love matvey dearly #ill be making a small mini comic soon detailing the strained family dynamics the Volkov-Makarov family unit have cos *whistle* it aint good #i compare him to the way a cat acts #take that as you will lol #used Yuri's updated surname from the new mw3 but Makarov and Yuri maintain the same appearances from the original games #i just prefer Makarov's ratty nature in the original games #call of duty modern warfare #small lore tidbits under the tab #“how are you so short” meme basically

[just-barrow]

day 31 of @almost-a-class-act's War Is Helloween prompts!

SAS: Rogue Heroes - Johnny Cooper/Reg Seekings

Character A really wanted to get the most out of this supposedly haunted hotel by booking the most haunted room on Halloween night (bonus points if this is also the Doll Room).

"Wasn't an entire family murdered here in the thirties?"

"Yeah, they say their spirits still haunt the hallways."

"Great."

Johnny and Reg are making their way to the haunted hotel they are going to spend their Halloween night in. Reg had been a little hesitant beforehand—he still is—but let himself be dragged into it by his friend’s enthusiasm. No one else had wanted to come, and Reg wasn’t about to let people think he was a wuss. 

Johnny may have neglected to mention that he has booked them the most haunted room of the hotel.

The hotel lobby is old-fashioned and richly decorated to make it look even more spooky. The receptionist who checks them in is in full zombie make-up, and Johnny grins excitedly at Reg as he takes the keys from her. 

“Why did she call us brave?” Reg asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion as they make their way upstairs.

“No reason.” 

“Johnny.”

He doesn’t have to answer; next to their door is a little plaque that says ‘Welcome to our most haunted room! Enter at your own risk…’

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

With a sweep of his arm and a ‘ta-da!’ Johnny throws open the door. 

Reg takes a hesitant step inside and looks around at the, he has to admit, very normal hotel room. There are two beds, a bathroom, and a desk with a TV on it. It’s old-fashioned, just like the rest of the hotel, but he had expected a lot more from it. 

He turns around and yelps.

“What is it?” 

“Fucking doll.” It’s sitting next to the TV. Reg quickly turns it around to face the wall. 

Johnny can’t help but chuckle and makes a mental note to turn it back when Reg isn’t looking.

They get settled in as evening falls. Reg casually suggests taking a tour of the rest of the–slightly less haunted–hotel, but Johnny is determined to stay in their room and experience the alleged hauntings himself. Reg concedes and tries to get comfortable, but his shoulders are hunched up around his ears. A cold wind blows past him every few minutes. He tells himself it’s just because it’s a drafty old building.

Meanwhile, Johnny is reading from the little pamphlet that came with the room, animatedly telling Reg all about how a father gruesomely hacked his whole family to death on this very floor; the cause of all the unexplainable occurrences at the hotel. He’s on his stomach on his bed, kicking his feet like a teenage girl reading a magazine. 

Reg huffs a sigh, shooting the occasional glance at the doll. “Glad someone’s having fun.”

Suddenly, the TV turns on. The screen shows static. 

Johnny perks up. “Did you do that?”

Reg’s eyes have gone wide. “Stop pissing about, that was you.”

“I swear it wasn’t!” 

They both look at the doll. The remote control is lying next to her.

“Oh, fuck yes, here we go.” Johnny jumps from his bed and walks closer, the light of the screen illuminating his face.

Reg automatically follows suit, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to duck under the covers. The longer he is here, the more unnerved he feels. Something about this room is very off. He stands a little closer to Johnny than he usually would.

Johnny quickly glances at him and smiles, turning the TV off with the remote. “Don’t think the TV is going to do us any harm.”

“It’s not the TV I’m worried about,” Reg mutters uneasily, eyes locked on the creepy doll.

Then something giggles behind him.

Despite his ever growing fear, Reg whips around and stands protectively in front of Johnny, shielding him from whatever is in the room with them. 

There is nothing there.

“I don’t know what it is you want but you can fuck right off,” he growls into the semi-darkness.

Johnny isn't scared at all, his stomach instead fluttering with a mixture of adrenaline and butterflies. He presses close to Reg's firm back. After a brief hesitation, he reaches down and takes his hand. 

When Reg tenses up for a moment Johnny thinks he has made a huge mistake, but then their fingers tangle together and Reg gives his hand a light squeeze.

Biting his lower lip to keep from bursting into a relieved grin, Johnny noses behind Reg’s ear, his warm breath tickling his neck. Clearly shivering at the sensation, Reg turns around to face Johnny, hauntings now entirely forgotten. When Johnny tugs him closer and presses their foreheads together, a broken little sound escapes Reg’s throat. His free hand finds Johnny’s hip. He seems a little breathless and his eyes are pleading—it makes Johnny’s chest feel tight. 

Deep inside he has known for a while that he isn't the only one who has been yearning for this. 

It feels good to be right. 

And as Reg finally gives in and softly kisses Johnny on the lips, Johnny smiles into it and congratulates himself on a plan well executed.

He silently thanks the hotel spirits.

A light on one of the nightstands starts to flicker as they tumble into bed together.

#war is helloween #my fic #sas rogue heroes #johnny cooper #reg seekings

[carehours]

The Red Rose

Paring : Serial Killer Jongho X gn reader

Warnings: murder, blood, obsessive behavior, jealousy, yandere (let me know if i missed out anything!!!)

!!! Read at your own risk !!!

Word count : 1K?

hi this is my first time ever writing and posting it online! i just had a lot of ideas and i miss jongho so much so... hehe

hope y'all like it <3

The town has whispers of this notorious serial killer. He has probably killed over a 100 victims over the span of the last one year. It was said that his way of killing is not brutal, he just loves to slice people’s throats with a knife and let them bleed to death. He enjoys the screams and cries of his victims. He doesn’t have a type for his victims, instead he kills for pleasure. He ends his killing with a red rose, coloured almost blood red, being placed on their cold body. Therefore he is known as “The Red Rose”.

He is not caught yet. Many bodies were found but no evidence of the killer. Some say they saw someone walking in the dark, dressed in full black with a red rose in his hands, his face was covered with a clown mask. He probably kills with his mask on. Who knows right?

Well, you know. You know “The Red Rose”, you know who is this notorious serial killer that has been around town killing people. That’s because he is your boyfriend. You’ve known each other since highschool. He is one quiet boy in class, everyday dressed in full black, and has an obsession with clowns and knives. Well, it’s not that bad right? Since he was just 15 years old back then. How did you guys end up together? Well you are sick and twisted in your mind like he is. 

He fell in love with you first. In love… hmn maybe i would go for “obsessed”. That’s the word. He was obsessed with you. He loves your mannerism, he loves your voice, he loves how you look at him. He loves everything about you. You’ve noticed him since he was in your class and he is quiet so you tend to look at him alot and observe his behaviour in class. 

One day, you decided to talk to him. And he replies. Oh, is not that he doesn't talk to people, but it’s just that nobody talks to him, and he didn’t bother to either. His voice… this was the first time you heard his voice, and it was deep and gentle. He speaks so gently. Everything he does, was so gentle. He was a gentle person. 

Until you found out about his obsession with clowns and knives. That’s when you got even more curious about this quiet kid at the back of your class. His name is Choi Jong Ho. Since then, you’ve befriended him and always hung out with each other. Slowly getting to know more about each other and slowly falling in love. 

As time went by, you found out more about him, he was curious how killing someone is like. He wants to know what that feels like. He watches a lot of movies, TV Series, documentaries about serial killers, those scenes described, acted out, and the sounds he heard through the TV screens intrigued him alot.  

Oh, and you also found out how obsessed he is with you. And that made you feel some type of way. It makes you feel loved somehow, and you don’t notice the problem and the toxicity that arises from it. You just let him be possessive and obsessive over you. You also notice that he whines a lot when he is with you and you only. He talks a lot when he is with you, he is clingy and he loves hugs and kisses from you, especially intimidating ones. Well, because most of the time he is really quiet. He is really different when he is with you and just you alone. You get to see his cute little smiles and his cute little laughter. And this is all for you to see. He is yours right? 

You were there for his first attempt in murdering someone. You were there through the entire thought of it, the planning and eventually the implementation of the plan. You supported him because you love him. Well, he just wants to try out right? It doesn’t hurt to try… right? 

You were with him when he made his first attempt. You weren’t shocked though, you just find it fascinating, most importantly you find him hot and sexy. He always looks hot and sexy when he is focused on doing something. But you do get jealous though, when he is very focused on his victims, especially when they were females. 

You found a red rose lying on the ground, picked it up and observed it. It has splatters of blood of the victim on its petal. Interesting, you thought to yourself. Gently placing it on the victim’s lifeless body, you smiled. He asked for the reason for you placing the flower on his victim. You simply told him it is pretty and it was splattered with his victim’s blood and it looks nice being placed on the body. He took your words seriously and from then on, he made it a habit to bring a red rose with him when he is on his way for his next victim and placing it on the bodies after killing them. Just because you told him it was pretty and it looked nice. 

Now, you are used to it. Him leaving the house in the middle of the night and coming back passed midnight with blood stains of his clothings and his clown mask. He will be in the shower, cleaning himself and you will help him to clean his mask and burn his dirty clothes. Well, neither were you or him wearing the clothes that were stained with other people’s blood.

After all that, you both will cuddle in bed. You liked to be the small spoon. You would ask him about his killing that day and you both would just giggle and laugh at it. He would kiss your forehead goodnight and tell you how much he loves you and you both sleep peacefully in each other's arms.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #jongho #kpop

[crimsonlyinglilly]

AMOW 1. Victim of a Curse

I'm back for AMonthOfWhump's March Trope-a-Thon.

Starting with more from Reincarnation woes and a look into the Crescent curse and the problems with cursing an entire bloodline.

The point of view of someone uninvolved in the power struggles of new Orleans who is still effected by it as a mistake brings the crescent curse on them.

Elijah latest life is a change from the last thousand years but an unfortunate twist of fate places him at risk of two curse and sets him on the path of war against the boy he had once taught.

and he thought being born a girl was going to be the most difficult part of this life to deal with.

----

Mikeala Bayes left her family when she was eighteen, after a stranger, a vampire; who was supposed to be her enemy,  killed her parents to save her from becoming a murderer.

He told her to run, warned her and she hadn't thought twice, she didn’t want anything to do with the pack, with the supposed blessing that was in her blood and left to travel the world. 

She only really came back at twenty five to settle when the few relatives she kept in contact warned her about the curse, that it would be safer if she was affected to be at home. 

She was forced to agree, no matter how careful she was, the last thing she wanted was to risk her daughter being left alone somewhere.

The fact Elijah’s stupidly rich father also lived in New Orleans helped, it was getting harder to travel with a growing child and her daughter needed a chance to get to know others her own age.

Those from the pack and other normal human children, Elijah didn’t have the anger that was normally found in their family, the same way she hadn’t been born with the birthmark Mikeala had from her mother’s line. 

It was part of the reason Mikeala hoped Elijah may have somehow escaped the danger her blood carried, what she had grown up with, her baby was calm and smart even compared to the human kids.

It was a good idea, her daughter bloomed from a slightly shy-cold five year old to a bright if reserved eight year old after they settled down, Mikeala also had to admit part of it came from the younger half-brother she had gotten to know.

At least little Kol had more sense than the father, even at five.

Said stupidly rich father lived up to his uses, the man may be naive and blind to everything around him but he was a loving father who never tried to take Elijah from her which put him above most people to her and he made sure Elijah never wanted for anything, the moment Elijah expressed an interest in something; classes and equipment were already ordered.

Which is why they were driving back late one evening from Elijah’s latest dance class when everything was ruined.

They were on the right side of the road, they were going at the right speed, none of that mattered as the other car crashed into them.

She barely lost consciousness but the first thing she did was check Elijah, ignoring her own aches as she twisted around.

Her baby looked at her with wide eyes and a fear she rarely ever saw from her daughter, there was a slight cough as she replied to her questions that Mikeala was sure it was from the bruises from the belt.

Once she was sure the most important person was safe she pushed open her door to check and scream at the idiot who had hit them.

She could smell the booze as she managed to wreck the door open, she was cursing at him before she realised what was missing.

He was too still, her hand reached out for his neck.

“Wake up” she hissed as she felt nothing and refused to accept it.

“Dammit NO.” her voice cracked, she was seconds from begging as the full understanding started dawn on her “Wake up.”

“You fucker, you don’t do this to me.” She swore as she stared at the man, the dead man, the stupid waste who was drunk and had killed himself by her hand and ruined her life.

Twenty eight years she had avoided triggering the curse in her blood, the last ten she had done everything to stay away from her family along with it.

Destroyed in a night by a selfish person who likely had no idea there was more in the world.

The curse didn’t care she didn’t want to be part of the pack.

The curse didn’t care she had left years ago.

The curse didn’t care it wasn’t her fault.

The curse didn’t care that she had a daughter.

She ignores him and runs back to her car. She could feel it creeping over her, feel the magic gathering around her, the curse of her blood and the added one the witches and vampires had cast upon them.

It wasn’t fair she thought as she managed to get back to her car, to her little girl watching with curiosity and concern as she placed her hand on the glass, she wouldn’t open the door, even if she wouldn’t harm her baby, with they’re shared blood. 

She couldn’t risk Elijah wandering away to follow her or getting cold, who knew how long it would be before someone came.

Still she wanted to, she wanted to pull her baby into her arms and never let go.

“Mama loves you,” she tells her, hoping with everything in her that Elijah could hear, Elijah has to know it if it’s the last thing she does.  “I-” she bite back as scream of pain, “need you to remember-”

She screams as the pain doubles and she falls to the floor, panting on all fours ‘like a beast’ her thoughts remind her cruelly, as everything tells her to return to the woods to find her pack, she could smell them.

She didn’t want to- she couldn’t yet.

Dragging herself up she ignores the claws screeching on the metal on her car’s door, the sounds too much for new hearing.

A small hand pressed against the glass.

Dark brown eyes stared at her, little lips twisted into a frown but there wasn’t fear in her daughter's face, for the first time she thinks she sees a flicker of the rage in their blood, in her baby’s eyes.

“I love you, no matter what.” she breaths on the glass, ignoring the yellow reflected from her eyes.

It was her new hearing that helped her hear the little reply.

“- fix this. Love you.”

She tried to stay upright to keep her little girl in her vision, but the next time the wave of pain hits, she hits the road and howls. 

----

The wolf laid in the undergrowth as lights, cars and humans arrived. She watched as the child-pup was taken from the car and carried away, biting back a whine, that was hers. She hurts as the small one vanishes from view into a van.

She starts to follow the pull from where she knows what's hers is, until another wolf appears, she relaxes, it’s not alone, pack. Pack would help her get her pup back.

They don’t, they get in her way, they stop her.

She snarls.

She fights.

She loses.

—--

Elijah sits in the van next to the policeman and breathes, deep, slow and calm, mama alway told her she was so good at keeping her temper. But mama didn’t really know everything.

Elijah Colson-Bayes was once Elijah Mikaelson, and has been enraged for a thousand years, every new life brings more injustices, he loves his brother, he doesn’t blame him, they are each other’s centre stone, the only constant, tied to each other as they were, but every life since had just built on that anger without release.

Elijah has been furious since father tried to kill them for mother to make them monsters, loathing since he realised that Klaus and Rebekah had already been killed before father had come for Finn, Kol and him.

Incensed since he learned Esther had already given his first born child away, since Mikael returned and destroyed everything he had built leaving him alive long enough to sit with the bodies of his wife, three daughters and youngest son, until Kol returned and Elijah had to see the devastation his failure to protect his family had brought to Hale and Kol.

He had thought he was done as he died cursing his parents, until he grew up again to realise papa was Kol.

That was the beginning, this was countless lives later and Elijah was very good at keeping things to themselves but if there was one good thing about all this, they were always underestimated.

Elijah was going to fix this, whatever had caused Mama to change when there wasn’t a full moon, even if it meant tearing New Orleans apart and out of the hands of Klaus’s heir.

#amow tropeathon2024 #day1 #Victim of a Curse #fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #original character #the originals #fic #the originals fic #the originals au #AU - reincarnation woes

[peachychilvary]

Memoir

My Story From Childhood to Adulthood

Hello, everyone, every two, every three! Good morning, afternoon, and evening to you all. This is your beautiful girl, Berlyn U. Armas. Sometimes, I hear people talk about my surname because it's ARMAS, which means gun or weapon. They find it unique, which is true; I haven't even met someone with the same surname as mine in my entire 18 years of living; even at school, I don't have a similar surname with anyone. Well, yes, I am 18 years old. I was born on January 23rd, 2006. I was born at Mactan Hospital in Lapu-Lapu City. My favorite colors are red and black. I know black is a shade, not a color; you don't have to nag at me. ☹️ but yes, I love black and red—not bright red, but dark red. I lived in Camella Home, Bankal Lapu-Lapu City, Cebu, Philippines.

 

This is my memoir from childhood to adulthood. I am not even sure if I am now grown up because he once told me I am still his baby. I don't even have a boyfriend or an ex-boyfriend. I am NBSB, which means NO BOYFRIEND SINCE BIRTH. Do you know why? in view of the fact that I am scared of commitment and that my parents will not allow me to be in a relationship. But I have been in a lot of situations. I remember when I was in 8th grade, I entertained that one boy in our school because he kept messaging me, and one time my brother suddenly saw my phone and saw our conversation. My brother told my parents about it, and they scolded me for being a rock head. But right now, I am ready to commit to the right person. I am still waiting for the right person. I don't know why they don't want to talk to me or approach me; I don't even bite. I guess they don't want the right person, then. Well, it's their loss, not mine. And one thing I am very picky about when it comes to boys is that I always make sure they are willing to take the risk of whatever happens. I am a good person, and I have a kind heart. I treat everyone with a good personality 🤡. This is not a cap, I swear😌.

 

When I was a kid, I was always full of curiosity and energy. I loved exploring the outdoors, climbing trees, and getting lost in my own imaginary worlds. I remember playing with my childhood friends back then. We would play every four hours in the afternoon until our parents would come to our playground to pick us up just to go home. I also remembered when I accidentally punched my brother when we were little. I have no idea why I did that to him, but he cried after I punched him. When I was in 2nd grade, there was gymnastics training in our school gym, and as I watched it every day, I became more interested in entering gymnastics. I told my mother about it, and she supported me and let me join the sport of gymnastics. As I train every day, my coach sees my potential and says I can join any competition because of the improvement of my skills. As time went by, I became more interested in entering every competition. Sometimes I will receive awards, sometimes not; it depends. 

 

In the seventh grade, I discovered that I have a passion for dancing. By the time I reached the eighth grade, I eagerly joined a dance troupe within our school, taking center stage at every event and earning recognition from everyone on campus. The connections I forged during these experiences led to a lot of friends that enriched my school life. However, as I reached the ninth, the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic brought about unforeseen challenges. Because of COVID-19, the government has decided that all students will take online classes and modular classes during this time because of the virus, so the students will not get infected and to secure their health. At the time I graduated from high school, I graduated with honors, and I am so proud of myself, even if I faced challenges during my 10th grade, together with family problems and financial problems. Even so, I didn't let that affect my academic success. My parents are very proud of me. Despite these shifts, my determination to pursue both academic excellence and my love for dancing remained undeterred.

 

As I entered senior high school, the government allowed the schools to have face-to-face classes again. I decided to choose the ABM strand. I don't know why I chose that strand; I just did. During this time, I met new friends and also joined the dance troupe at our school. Yes, I passed the audition that time. If our school held an event, we also had to practice for the intermission number. I also joined the SSG organization in our strand to lead and guide the students. I still strive for academic success and have started to join school activities to represent our section and the ABM department. As I grew older, I noticed that I became more competitive whenever we had a dance competition at our school. I feel disappointed in myself whenever we can't achieve that championship because I always think that maybe I didn't do better, or maybe I should have done it better. 

 

Growing up was an incredible journey filled with unforgettable moments. Each day brought new discoveries and opportunities for growth. Whether it was trying new hobbies, making mistakes, or facing challenges, I embraced it all with a sense of wonder and excitement. Growing up taught me valuable lessons about resilience, empathy, and the importance of staying true to myself. Looking back, I cherish those memories and the person they shaped me into today. I will also thank my parents for supporting and taking care of me. Lastly, I also thank God, who always guides me and gives me never-ending blessings.

#empowerment technology #childhood #adulthood #branding