#if you stay with someone like this it enables their behavior

[sykosugu]

♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | five

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,

♡ currently: completed

♤ taglist: closed

♢ wc: 2.3k

♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!

♡: previous part | you are here

Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best. 

You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.

Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.

Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon. 

“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job. 

All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.

“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.

“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.

“Again.”

And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you. 

You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last. 

Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.

If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.

Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.

But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things. 

Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.

Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that. 

When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.

Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.

Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun. 

“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.

“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.

“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.

“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”

Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.

“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”

Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.

Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself. 

The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all. 

Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t. 

Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.

Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.

The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.

Seventy seconds. In and out.

Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.

Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried. 

The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.

“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.

“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind. 

“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.

“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.” 

“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.” 

You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.

“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.” 

The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.

Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–

“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.

Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru. 

Never Suguru.

Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound. 

“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.

“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?” 

Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.

“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.

“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.” 

He stands from his spot, walking over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.

“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit. 

“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”

“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.

“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”

“I love you, Ru.”

“I love you more, Sugu.”

♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy

#geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader

[redheadlesbianfreak]

Yes, people do need to take accountability for the partners they choose to date, at least to some extent. And no, this doesn't apply to abusive relationships, that situation is entirely different.

I'm talking about white people who date other white people who are openly racist. I'm talking about "allies" who date other people who are openly homophobic and transphobic. I'm talking about liberal women who date very conservative men. And seeing bigotry as nothing more than a "political issue."

Of course, it's different if your partner lies and actively hides their political views from you. But if your partner is openly voting for people like Trump, openly supporting conservative politicians, openly hating/harming minority groups, then you should leave them. And you should be held accountable if you to choose to stay with someone like that.

#personal #rant #just because i see this a lot #if you stay with someone like this it enables their behavior #oh and this applies to queer people too #because queer people can be shitty and bigoted #i get that many situations are nuanced but i'm talking about people who say that it's okay to date someone despite “political differences” #that excuse completely stops when it comes to human rights

[episims]

⚙️ Various Mod Edits

These are some edits that I've made for my own use. I'm sharing because they might be useful for someone, but here's the deal:

⚠️ I won't make other versions/offer conflict support for these mods.

If you experience problems with them and HCDU+ doesn't report a conflict, please let me know. I've tested these mods and I use them in my own game.

If you find a mod conflict or feel like these edits aren't quite what you're looking for, please don't message me about it. The easy solution is to opt out of using these.

Thanks for understanding!

Visitor Controller Edit

An edit of the visitor controller version by @midgethetree.

Incorporates this trait mod by @hexagonal-bipyramid, so Loners show up on community lots and as walkbys less often.

There's a new a blocker object found under general/misc. Put this object into the inventory of any sim, and they won't show up on community lots or as walkbys at all.

Enables children and teens to visit community lots even when there aren't playable children/teens present.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Requires: the trait_MAIN from 3t2 traits project (as the blocker object uses its mesh). Doesn't require using any of the traits.

Towel Mod by Color Traits with Inappropriate Behavior

A further 3t2 trait edit of my color trait towels mod.

Makes inappropriate sims change into naked instead of the towel after a shower/bath.

As a side effect, inappropriate sims might stay naked in some other situations where the game usually pushes the sim to put the clothes on asap.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Requires: meshes & recolors from the original mod, the easy inventory check, and sauna towels by color traits.

Update (31.3.2024): Sims are more considerate about changing out of the towel/bathrobe when they go to sleep.

Higher Relationship Requirement for Dining Groups

Not really an edit, but there's only a point in using this with simler90's dining group mod, even though this is a separate mod.

Raises the short-time relationship needed for visiting sims to dine together from 5 to 40.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Requires: the dining group mod.

Committed Polyamorous Relationships Without Engagement Requires Steady

An edit of the committed polyamorous relationships mod by @palominocorn.

Proposing doesn't require sims to be going steady first.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Unconventional relationships hurray

Polyamory Friendly Go Steady Wants/Fears

An edit of the go steady want/fear restrictions by @lamare-sims.

Adults who are engaged/married to someone can still roll the want to go steady with another sim.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Requires: A mod that allows adults to go steady (look at the previous mod in this post) and the go steady wants being enabled for adults from want trees.

#ts2 #ts2cc #sims 2 #s2cc #the sims 2 #the sims 2 download #dl mods #ts2 color traits #traits project

[painted-bees]

Raf's amount of self awareness and the amount of time he spends analyzing himself in his own head seemed a little far fetched until I got to the part about his past relationships and how badly things went despite having started therapy back then. It makes a lot more sense that he didn't get to this level of awareness and grace until way later after years of working on himself. But I really want to know how his relationship with Margie might have gone if he was less aware?

Oh, fun question lmao Assuming he never sees his behavior as something that he needs to work on: I think Margie's impulse to be honest and straightforward, and to wear her emotions on her sleeves would still have likely gotten her past his defenses and into a close relationship. But the closer/more important someone becomes to Raf, the more and more reactive/mercurial/mean he'd get. Those close relationships--the ones he treasures most--are the ones that pose the highest level of danger. They're the ones who'd hurt him the most if they betrayed him. Coupled with Margie's conflict-averse instinct to wilt, roll over, and apologize before considering if she'd even done anything wrong--we'd have likely seen a much more possessive and controlling Raf. We don't see that in his relationship with Lacey, because Lace would often bite back twice as hard, and was able to [very aggressively] assert boundaries with him. Margie, tho--so long as he kept encouraging and enabling her to make music, and providing warm, enthusiastic support on that front, she'd be easily convinced to change any behavior he didn't like--under the pretense that she was working on becoming a better, easier person to live with. I think, tho--if there ever arose a moment where he asserted that she couldn't pursue a music/career-related opportunity (that didn't require his involvement), if he threatened to take back all the 'nice things' he's given her as a tool of punishment/manipulation, or if he started discouraging her from vising friends or family--and if she couldn't reason with him on that front/it consistently resulted in a big argument every time--she'd end the relationship. She was, at least, raised well by her mother to identify that kind of situation as a 'get out now' 0 tolerance red flag of abuse. And--you know...if she had to do that, I think this would be the event that sees her move back home with her parents. Emotionally and psychologically, she'd lose a lot to this relationship. She'd need her family to help center herself again. Otherwise, Raf would likely sabotage the relationship for himself, and break things off with her over some catastrophic misunderstanding or another--where he is just unable and unwilling to hear her out and take her word at face value. But if certain lines are never crossed; if Margie learns to stifle/bury her excited impulses and exist as quietly as she is able to, and if Raf is able to pull himself back from enacting on paranoid compulsions just enough, he and Margie would probably find a tenuous but """comfortable""" stasis. Like with any relationship, they'd have moments both good and bad, catastrophes that maybe only resolve themselves for the convenience of it rather than out of a proper understanding, as well as tender moments of joyful whimsy, when the circumstances were right for it, that'd serve to remind them of why they're together in the first place and help bolster the staying-power of their relationship. But it'd all be balanced...very differently. They'd be a lot less fun, I think. Margie would have never suggested going to Cortes Island. She'd have been reluctant to suggest much at all. Raf would be stuck with the persistent suspicion that she resented him--and yanno--she might. But not for the reasons he'd think.

#hi-note #I don't much like this AU if I am being honest haha

[hotchfiles]

delivered a crime.

pairing: remus x fem!reader.

summary: once a month remus needs to be patched up. that times 15 equals how many times he has to patch you up monthly.

content warnings: fluff, mentions of violence, condoning of violence, cuss words.

word count: 1,3k

"ouch ouch ouchhhh—" you wince scrunching your face hard, almost moving it altogether if it wasn't for remus' strong grip on your chin as he cleans your bloody nose. "remmyyyy, it hurts." you pout and he only shakes his head, chuckling through his nose.

"d'whine like this when you punched her first?" you frown dramatically, he knew too well of your antics, too good of a boyfriend, you would get into some fight, like some super hero, no pain, no tears, and then would transform into a cry baby when he was patching you up simply because you loved being taken care of by him. and by him only, obviously, not a side of you that was shown to anyone else.

"nop, but that cocksucker sure did." you try to smirk while you reply, but his grip on your face makes it almost impossible too, still your shoulders move a bit as you laugh.

"language, lady." he doesn't really care for that, but remus finds it endlessly amusing how far back you can roll your eyes when he teases you about it, specially because your mouth was always particularly dirty after a fight, still riled up from the adrenaline. he let your chin go and lightly pushed your cheek, turning your face around so he could clean a bruise near your scalp. "she smacked your head into a wall or something?"

"floor actually." remus tries, he really does try not to be amused, he doesn't want to enable this behavior, it's not safe, it's not right. and he worries so much about you, he does. but how can he not laugh when you're in front of him, all bruised, bloodied up, and still look so beautiful and so charming and talk about so nonchalantly? not a single worry behind those eyes, only recklessness. he's almost jealous. he plants a kiss beside the injury, glad it wasn't deep and it wouldn't need any stitches this time.

in a very sick sick sick way, this always calms him down, it makes him feel more normal. once a month it's the other way around, it's you going through his body for cuts and cleaning the blood and checking if he would absolutely need pomfrey this time (after a while it gets tiring being in a hospital bed). some couples learn to paint, or to knit, for you two it was first aid. first aid was remus' and yours thing.

remus takes both your hands with his carefully, looking to see which one was worse, your dominant one of course, he let the other go and kissed your knuckles, you tried not to but you still flinch, those were bad, you ended up hitting the floor a couple of times while you aimed for the hufflepuff's chin. at least it bloody broke, along with her nose and a least three teeth. "love, y'know so many jinxes, why, why always your pretty fists?" he always asks, he hopes anytime soon you will give him a different answer, but you don't.

"i'm not a bloody coward, rem." james and sirius are never happy when they hear you talk like that, they were avid users of jinxes as prank devices, and... problem solving devices. you told remus you believed violence to be more effective, he knew, or hoped, you felt it was easier to truly hurt someone with no way back with magic. he bandaged the first hand thinly, so you could still move it with a bit of freedom and went to clean the other one.

"why this time?" you stayed quiet. very quiet. too quiet. remus hated when you were quiet. you were not a quiet person, if you were quiet it meant you were in trouble. you were already being patched up so how worse could it be? "darling, why?"

"dunno, quidditch stuff." you don't play quidditch. you close your eyes immediately as the terrible terrible lie leaves your lips. quidditch? where did that even come from? you so didn't want to tell him the real reason.

remus didn't like you getting hurt, he specially didn't like you getting hurt because of him, that was even the only reason sirius kept you from punching severus months before, if he knows i was here and i let you start this i'm fuckin' dead, but you couldn't help it, he's your beautiful, caring boyfriend, who reads you to sleep, who shares cigs with you even when he says he's trying to stop, he patches you up after fights, and he gets you coffee even when he's drinking tea. he opens his coat so you can hug him and snuggle inside of it when it's snowy, and he asks you to stay up late with him studying even if you're gonna fall asleep on his lap because the sound of your breathing helps him focus. how, just how are you going to let anyone say anything about him?

he doesn't tell you off on your blatant lie instantly, finishing up the bandage on your hand. he sighs deeply and you know you did not get away with it, his right index finger goes to your chin and he uses it to push it softly so you're looking directly into his beautiful, worried, sincere eyes. "why?"

"she had it bloody coming a'ight—fourth year prick, too old to be blabbing about shit she knows fuckall about." remus doesn't respond, because you haven't either, you're stalling, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and gives you the courtesy of ignoring the fact the girl was three years younger than you. you try to fidget with your fingers but the bandages stop you, so you shrug and give him what he wants, "she was saying shit about your scars, thought she needed sum' of her own." for him, for his sake. his hands drop to his waist and he looks at you shaking his head, but his heart is warm and he hopes his cheeks aren't.

sure, he could be sad, offended, about some kids being idiots about his appearance, and truthfully, if he was younger, he would. remus didn't care about it much anymore, and how could he, when he pulled one of the most gorgeous girls he could ever dream of and you were smart, talented and could even easily destroy him with your fists if you wanted to. and there you were, all fucked up because you couldn't accept people talking about him. it was too endearing, and he shouldn't enable it, he knows it, his mind is yelling him not to, but his hands are pulling you to him for the tightest hug he's ever given you. "you gonna get scarred too, you—" he doesn't even have the mind to remember any cuss words to start any banter, really, "beautiful, little, crazy, thing." he kisses your neck countless times, his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

"don' care, wear mine with honour." your voice is muffled, your mouth too close to his chest, you pull away just enough to look up to him, your hands flat to his body, "as should you." he leans in, closing the distance between you both once more, now with with a chaste kiss, that even so tastes like iron, and stings like a bitch.

"i love you, deeply, terribly. please, please, don't do this again... goddamn loony—oh no." you widen your eyes instantly, but you both laugh, glad that neither james nor sirius are nearby. if any one of them heard him slip up like that and use that word, of all the ones he could have... the two of you would never hear the end of it.

but that was truly it. moony was completely, head over heels, too far gone, heels over head, intensely in love... with a total loony.

he was enjoying every minute of it, though, even right now, the tight hug, the blood tasting kisses, and the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

and he was. as you were his.

#lari writes sometimes #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x you #remus x reader #remus x y/n #its 5am i NEEDED TO GET THIS OUTOF MY HEAD

[riizeblr]

I think eunseok has a dad vibe, i don't know if i make myself clear, like, he feels like the kind of guy who would protect you but would also hurt you the most with his words because of how much you depend on his opinion as a fatherly figure. Like, he could easily manipulate you into not going to places and seeing certain people with the excuse of protecting you, controlling what you can and can't wear would be pretty common too.

rating: 18+. mdni.

content: stepcest, controlling behavior, alludes to noncon

oh my gosh i love this!

stepdad!eunseok who thrives on how quickly you begin to worship him after he marries your mom. you were clearly pretty childish, in need of someone to look after you and guide you. you were so clearly a spoiled little princess and eunseok wasn't sure how he felt about it at first. your mom would somewhat enable your behavior, letting you sit pretty at home and eunseok wasn't looking to change that aspect. but what he couldn't stand was your little outbursts, tantrums, more like.

your bratty princess act withered quickly after you realized that eunseok wasn't going anywhere and he actively looked to change you and help you. he was so stable and calm that you couldn't help but give in to every word he said. if there was something eunseok didn't like, you would try your best to make sure he would never see it again. if he decided he didn't like one of your friends? you didn't like her either. he thought you were staying out too late? you had more fun at home anyway. he didn't like your outfit? your closet is always open for him to go through. you even allowed him to help you get dressed if he wanted, select your scented lotions, and moisturize your skin with gentle, lingering touches.

still, you acted out from time to time and eunseok wouldn't admit that he liked it when you did. he liked having an excuse to slip into your room after your mom fell asleep to punish you. he liked the way you quickly learned to fear those times. he could see the quick shift in your face and flash of your eyes get faster and faster after every late night encounter with him but it was always too late. you had already begun and eunseok wasn't one to forget.

and he was always sure to be extra brutal when it had something to do with men...

#tw noncon #tw stepcest #this ask screams daddy issues #same #anyway stepdad!eunseok has me thinking #discography ! #feat. eunseok ! #stepdad!eunseok #eunseok x reader #eunseok smut #riize x reader #riize smut #dark riize #dark eunseok #riize hard hours #riize #eunseok

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Baizhu

When I tell you I adore this man so much, he's so underappreciated and I intend to do my best to do him justice

ft. Changsheng the enabler and Qiqi the liability

WARNINGS: fem reader, dubcon/noncon, abduction, heavy drugging content, mentions of force feeding against a hunger strike, emotional manipulation of a child, homicide

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

If one had to describe his nature in a singular word, it would be careful.

Incredibly, meticulously careful. There is not one single step taken that has not been perfectly planned out ahead of time, multiple possibilities and issues thought through and accounted for. He would not rush into something of this nature unprepared, and more importantly, his cautiousness comes from another trait he has in abundance: determination. Dedication to seeing a goal through, the firm resolution that he will obtain what he desires, one way or another, with no regard to what measures need to be taken to do so, nor how long it will take.

Not to mention, from a moral perspective, one might be surprised at how indifferent he is to the notion of doing something... unethical. People tend to associate medical professionals with some sort of assumed overall moral good, that someone who dedicates their life to the pursuit of the health of others must be a morally sound person in all areas of life by default.

Well, that is true to an extent. He does want to stay within ethical bounds. He's a generally good and compassionate person, yes, and would never go out of his way to harm anyone for the sake of it. He doesn't bear any malice towards anyone. He will inconvenience or burden himself if it means doing the right thing, when the right thing does not pose any risk to him and his goals. And when it's things he doesn't care too much about, he will relinquish a goal if he realizes it would do harm. So overall, it would be correct to say that he is a morally sound person.

But if violating certain commonly agreed-upon ethical boundaries is necessary to obtain his most fervent desires... well.

He's perfectly well-aware. He's self-aware, for starters, acutely so. He knows exactly what he feels and why, knows it is of abnormal degree, and knows what it will inevitably lead to. He knows that both from a social and ethical standpoint, such things are wrong, that it violates society's conventions and standards (not to mention laws) of what is acceptable behavior by limiting another's freedoms and violating their autonomy. It's not even something he really needs to reflect on. He just notices and becomes aware of an intense emotion, recognizes that emotion and its degree of severity, and draws an immediate logical conclusion as to what will happen depending on how he chooses to handle that emotion and how each course of action is perceived by society. Very simple, really.

It's lamentable — he himself has reflected on this to himself multiple times, often speaking aloud to Changsheng about it behind closed doors.

How troublesome that even I am not immune to these sorts of desires...In the end, the nature and instinct of any given creature is immutable, I suppose.

She rarely has anything to offer other than vague warnings of not letting it spiral out of control, which he assures will not happen.

But oh well. Sure, it's inconvenient, but there is no point in fighting something as innate as one's own feelings in this area of things. Suppressing the emotions would be a waste, so it is much wiser and more efficient to simply accept them, then work through how he intends to handle them.

Cautious, intelligent, perceptive, patient, self-aware, willing to violate ethics, and of an indomitable resolve. This combination of traits is, as you might imagine, more or less one of the worst hands of fate that could be dealt to whoever is targeted by the individual possessing them.

He's an easy person to warm up to, though. Very likable and pleasant. He's not nervous around you or anything, and gives no hint of any ill intent, so you have no reason to suspect anything. Well, he might be just a bit overbearing towards you, just barely noticeably touchy or insistent, but it's nothing that strikes you as indicative of anything you should genuinely be concerned over.

Except for this... aura. While nothing he does really concerns you, there is almost some tangible feeling of something being "off" in a way you can't really articulate nor explain. Regardless, he's been helpful and kind to you, so you brush it off as nothing.

There's also distinct lack of the intense outward expression of emotion usually associated with obsessive lovers and abductors and the like. He's fairly... calm about it all. Perhaps it's an ability stemming from his meticulous and careful planning to eliminate risk, or perhaps it's that he has full and acute self-awareness and accurate perception and understanding of himself and why he feels what he does. Or perhaps it's just his nature. Maybe some combination of all of the above. But even at his worst moments, he has a fairly calm aura about him, nothing seems to bother or upset him too much. He always seems to have calculated for every potential misstep or complication.

He does make an attempt to grow closer to you, though. He's masterful with an ability to orchestrate encounters that genuinely seem to be coincidence, as well as creating inconveniences for you that will lead you to seek him out. If anything, you're usually apologizing for doing so, since he seems so busy... but he dismisses it with a wave of his hand, assures you that it's fine, that he's very happy to be of assistance to you.

This, too, isn't just because he enjoys your presence, but it's also a preparatory measure in and of itself. The more familiar you are with him, the closer you consider yourself to be with him, the easier of a time he'll have handling you when the time inevitably comes that he'll have to take certain courses of action that you may disapprove of, to say the least. He needs all the endearment to you he can get before that happens.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

He's a bit conflicted, can't really decide if he wants to or not. His reluctance isn't really based in morality nor fear; he's not particularly concerned with the former on this matter, and he's fully confident he can successfully pull it off, so no need for nervousness.

Rather, he has the sort of possessive, primal desire to take you all for himself, one that he recognizes as a rash instinct that he needs to carefully ponder, and yet, he realizes that the direct consequence of acting on those desires would cause him to fall out of favor with you. He does love your smiles you give him, how nice you've been to him, your kind words, and he knows that would disappear, only to be replaced with resentment and fear, the moment he takes you away from your life.

He often sighs and mumbles to himself about it. What to do, what to do.... such a frustrating predicament.

Human nature is fascinating, isn't it? He's so consciously aware that this is abnormal and unwell, that he should attempt to resolve it, yet he has no desire to resolve it, only craving to further indulge in it. Yet he wants to be certain that he doesn't take any rash action, that he knows what he's doing through and through.

So, he refrains, at least for some time. However, it's not an attempt to refrain permanently — he knows full well that eventually, he will act on his desires, that it's only a matter of time. But for now, he wants to savor every word, every interaction, every smile, until he knows he will eventually cave in, and those things will be gone. He also reasons that, as aforementioned, by knowing you and being acquainted with you longer under your normal life and circumstances, he can attempt to endear himself to you and grow closer to you in that time, which will, he hopes, ease the transition when you no longer have your freedoms, that you will be more inclined to forgive him and act with empathy for him rather than hostility.

However, should he happen upon a coincidence, the stars align and the pieces all fall into place so perfectly without him having to arrange it, well, he'll certainly take the opportunity that presents itself. You show up complaining of fever or headache or something of that nature, and in your discomfort, it doesn't quite occur to you how unusual and seemingly irrelevant the questions he's asking you are—

I assume you let someone know where you were headed when you left home? ...No? Oh, I see....

You don't by chance have anywhere you'll be expected to be in the next short while, would you?

—and it won't, until it's too late.

Otherwise, should the opportunity not arise on its own, he has to wait. The days pass. A few months in total. But the longing and the ache and the scalding feeling of intense jealousy when he sees you with others, it all becomes too much, and he's forced to put into motion a plan he has now had quite some time to prepare for. Invite you over for "something important" with perfect timing, memorizing your schedule to hopefully ensure that it will happen before you see anyone whom you might inform of where you're going. From there, once he has you inside, it's no effort at all from that point forward.

He has a remarkable ability to give off this calm, nonthreatening aura, combined with a gentle and charming voice that lulls you into a sense of safety, that keeps you from noticing anything strange about what he's doing, even if you do still have that faint sense of unease in the back of your mind. It feels sweet and endearing, really, that you trust him so.

So he goes through with it. Sets up the necessary steps, and executes the plan as predetermined.

And then he tells you about it.

Once it's already too late, of course. You already drank what you were given without any hint of suspicion or distrust, and the way your eyes suddenly widen and your body twitches and slumps forward indicates it's setting in.

That's a regular part of the effect, terribly sorry about that. Oh, don't worry, you're not in any danger. You see, it's just... ah, how should I put it...

Thus he starts to go on elaborating on exactly what he drugged you with, and more importantly, begins explaining exactly why. As in, he openly confesses to being deeply enamored, as he puts it, and that he, likewise in his own words, has—

—some sort of abnormal psychological development that has taken place, although I'm not entirely sure how to best articulate it... regardless, I'm sure you now see that these impulses are inducing problematic behavior, but I'm afraid I have already succumbed to them, unfortunately...

He speaks with this lighthearted tone and whimsical sighs if he's explaining some sort of mild, harmless inconvenience, something of little consequence, all while he's gently going about sitting you back upright, closing your mouth so you stop involuntarily drooling, fixing the cup you spilled over and cleaning up what spilled onto the table. As if it's just a regular, everyday occurrence that he's paying little attention to, and not something of great weight and severity.

What this ultimately means is that you won't actually be leaving anytime soon. While unreasonable on its own, I assume that makes sense in the context of what I've just explained to you.

He turns back towards you, loops his arms under your armpits and hoists you up. There's a slight strained grunt with the physical exertion, but he manages to pick you up without too much trouble. He's still talking while carrying you through the door to the hall, but you don't really hear much it as you begin to succumb to unconsciousness — you only really process one more sentence.

You're awfully trusting, you know. You really ought to be more careful, should someone could have malicious intent...

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

The physical restraints aren't so bad. He keeps a reverse lock on the outside of the front door, and for a little while, a singular chain to your ankle.

After a short while, and a verbal agreement that you will not try anything, he gives you a surprising degree of leniency, gives you the ability to roam to some extent. You can be present at the front where strangers show up to the desk, even. But he'll be watching. He has ways, as he puts it, of knowing what you're doing.

You're not sure what to do. It seems like such an opportunity, and yet, you know that someone as calculated as he is wouldn't give you that opportunity without having a plan he could easily enact if something goes wrong. You know he doesn't really place that much trust in your word through your verbal agreement alone. You want to do something to try and catch someone's attention or something, but there's this gut feeling you have that knows that doing that would be a mistake.

He almost certainly wouldn't harm anyone, you're pretty sure of that being true, but... can you say that with one-hundred percent certainty? If pushed to the point of it being a matter of securing you and your arrangement, preventing someone who saw more than they should from telling, can you really be certain he wouldn't take drastic measures...?

You just don't know. Sure, you're fairly certain of his overall goodness of character... but then again, that's also what you thought when you brushed off the occasional comment or expression from him that used to make you feel some faint sense of alarm or unease — that he was certainly a good person, just a bit eccentric at times. You told yourself back then that he was not the sort of person who would ever do anything bad to anyone. You overestimated his goodness once, and look where that got you. Can you really be sure that someone who would go so far as to do what he's already done, wouldn't hurt or kill someone too, if it came down to it...? And when you think even more about it, doesn't the fact that he's letting you roam so much imply that he is ready to take some other measures if you tried anything?

You just don't know. It's all so uncertain.

And he knows that. You can tell from the soft, content, knowing smile on his face. He knows exactly what thoughts are going through your mind. As long as that doubt is there, hopefully you won't force his hand to make him have to take unsavory measures to ensure your security.

Now if you were to actually successfully, temporarily get away and be caught and brought back again, this is where Baizhu actually has a rather unique reaction, both intriguing and odd compared to how other captors and obsessive lovers would react.

That is, he harbors no resentment or anger over your desires to be free. In fact, provided he caught you early, his reaction is fairly calm. If you managed to get out for a while, he's more visibly panicked when he finds you, but he still manages to calm himself down by the time he brings you back, and doesn't lash out or have any sort of angry outburst.

You still endure some form of punishment — can't just let you get away with it, of course, you'd just be more likely to do it again — but you very quickly notice he doesn't really seem all that angry or anything. At some point, you question him on it, and he's very transparent with his answer.

To tell you the truth, I can't really blame you. You're only following your instincts. It's endearing, in a way.

Being angry, he explains, would be nonsensical, silly, unreasonable. It is only natural for a human to desire autonomy and as few restrictions on themselves as possible. Yet, it is also human nature to want to control others, and to have the object of their desires all to themselves, kept away like a treasure. Both his actions and yours are perfectly natural and reasonable, and since he himself has followed his natural inclinations and instincts, he can't blame you for doing the same and following yours.

And then, he smiles.

But it seems you weren't quite capable of achieving your goal. I suppose you'll just have to hope you have better luck on your next attempt... And I, that there won't be one.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Needless to say, Baizhu is both intelligent and perceptive. Most of the time, he can easily catch you in a lie. More importantly, he knows that given the circumstances, it's obvious you'll be trying to lie to him fairly regularly, so he's on guard about it, making him that much more likely to notice.

But on the rare occasion you do manage to trick him in some way, unless it was something that put you, him, or your situation in genuine danger, he doesn't get too upset. It's just the philosophy he takes, he explains as he shrugs it off— Really, it was foolish of me to not anticipate something like that. Considering the circumstances, I should never have allowed myself to become so unguarded.

Much like with attempts at escape, it's only natural to lie to him to achieve what you want. Likewise, it's only natural for you to receive some form of punishment to deter you from repeating the attempt of deception. Simple. So while he doesn't have a particularly angry or emotional response to it, don't expect to just get away with it either.

He's also very well aware when you manipulate him, acknowledges it even, but similarly to lying, he doesn't seem to mind too much. If anything, as long as it's something mild in nature, he finds it amusing, will chuckle and smile.

Oh, my. I see what you're doing... well, how could I say no when you're being so sweet about it?

That applies only to that which is mild, though. If your request or attempted goal is something that would actually be a risk, he gets far more serious and firm in his approach.

Surely you don't expect me to fall for that, dear. As much as I'd like to fulfill any wish you have, I know better than to take that sort of risk.

It was worth a try. You win some, you lose some.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He knows that mental stimulation will be important to your ensuring that you remain of sound mind and health for the foreseeable future. There's limits, of course, he's not dumb enough to fall for requests for things that you could use to harm him or break out, but he'll get you what you want, within reason. Especially books, which, as he says, are important for keeping your mind sharp. Those he'll get you even without asking, often bringing you something at random because he thinks you might enjoy its contents.

And hey, he also might as well capitalize on the opportunity. To prevent boredom, you can also help him out. Lots of jars that need organizing and labeling, papers that need to be filled and documented, and so on. Of course, he'll double check to ensure there's no maliciously doing it wrong or anything, but he appreciates it if you're willing and compliant.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

He doesn't like to feel like he's being strict or harsh, but he does set specific guidelines. They're fairly short and simple.

One, you will not attempt to leave, or to rope anyone else into "helping" you.

Two, you will not attempt to cause any harm or damage to himself, his property, or any other residents or visitors you may come into contact with.

Third, you will not attempt to commit any action that intentionally causes, or has a potential to accidentally cause, any danger or harm to yourself.

Violate any of these conditions, and naturally, there will be consequences. All actions have cause and effect, this is just the law of the universe, so it is only fair to enforce a consequence.

He's still pretty forgiving, but if you push his limits, he'll begin enacting those consequences, getting progressively more intense according to the nature of your offense. Confining you to one room, putting you back into an ankle shackle, so on and so on. All done with this self-righteous attitude, telling you how it's for your own benefit that this is done.

But along the same previous lines of reasoning as to why he gives you things to keep you occupied, he knows how important stimulation is to one's psychological well-being, and can just as easily use this against you. If you've been very, very bad, repeated attempts at running away and total defiance, some more intense measures are needed. As with any other ailment, your poor behavior is something he has just the thing to treat with.

The dependency itself, you see, creates bonding. Being forced to rely on another for such basic needs is a process equally humiliating and endearing. The isolation, on the other hand, ensures that your brain associates only him with the positive chemicals and emotions induced by having stimuli to free you from boredom, as well as your needs being met and...

He continues to explain it out to you as he goes. You're still only restrained by one ankle binding, but he doesn't need much in that regard, because he doesn't really have to worry about you moving around in the first place. You can barely move a muscle anyway.

It is quite torturous, isn't it? He almost feels bad for you. You still have some control over your face, and he can see the obvious displeasure in your expression. Unable to move your arms, your legs, anything but the truly important muscular functions like being able to swallow and breathe and the like. Forced to sit there numbly while he brings cups of water and spoonfuls of broth to your mouth, when he wipes your body down in substitution for bathing. Yes, it's clear how much you dislike this, but that's the point, isn't it? This would not have to happen if you could just be a bit more compliant. That wouldn't truly be so hard, would it? He asks in such a patronizing voice.  Should you keep your mouth shut and refuse to eat or drink, he'll sigh, give up for the moment and try again later. If this persists after a few days, though, he'll just have to force it, and is not above doing so.

After a few days of this, he'll allow it to wear off, provided you've proven your repentance and promise you're going to be good in the future. An unlikely promise, he realizes, but at least the sentiment counts.

Oh, and he does establish one other rule out of frustration after a certain incident: no taking his glasses and hiding them. Really, it was quite a childish act of spite on your part, and caused him a terrible deal of inconvenience. Best to address it and forbid that from reoccurring...

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Rivals are actually something you don't have to worry too much about, in terms of them getting hurt. Baizhu is calculated and reasonable, highly rational, and doesn't take any sort of rash action. And in his mind, as long as you're confined, other people are no longer an issue.

If he feels someone is becoming enough of a threat in the pre-captivity stage of his obsession, being aware of any affection another person has for you or vice versa will simply serve as a catalyst in your abduction, and almost certainly expedite that process, out of urgency to get you away from a perceived threat. Provided you are secured, though, he sees no reason to risk the potential consequences of taking any action against a rival, even if he does harbor resentment for them.

Do not, however, mistake that for instinctive reluctance. It doesn't mean he's the sort of person who would be to afraid to kill someone, or, as you might initially imagine he would be, a person who would feel an innate sense of guilt and wrongness, who is averse to doing anything truly wrong. No, he's more than confident in his ability to successfully pull off a homicide if he were to try, and honestly, he's really not that naturally guilty, that is, in the sense of the sort of person who would be haunted by their actions and feel guilty by instinct. Rather, he has to intentionally hold himself back, tell himself he can't do such a thing no matter how much he wants to, as a matter of dignity.

Homicide would, after all, be more or less entirely antithetical to his universal occupational creed. And while again, he doesn't have an instinct against it, he values his own self-image. He wouldn't feel guilty, but he'd feel disappointed in himself, ashamed to have failed to uphold the idea of sanctity of life and all that. And perhaps even more importantly, such an act is one of petulant spite, if you ask him, and he would be somewhat embarrassed to see himself committing such an act, as if it's an admittance of having let someone else's presence bother him so much. It's a matter, thus, of self-respect and dignity more than anything. Therefore, with you secured away, he'll simply leave them be... although he's not above perhaps a bit of pettiness if the opportunity presents itself, such as being able to mildly inconvenience them somehow without it being connected to him.

That being said, there is a limit to his inhibition for the sake of self-image.

There's one circumstance under which he would see it fit to kill: said rival is looking for you after your disappearance, and he gets the very strong sense that the individual in question knows something they shouldn't, or otherwise seems to have some correct suspicion of what has occurred. He feels their eyes linger on him, this narrow-eyed sort of glare. They ask some rather odd questions. Or perhaps they're foolishly upfront about it, asking if he wouldn't happen to have seen you on the day you were last heard from, an accusatory edge to their tone.

Baizhu is actually quite masterful at keeping calm and maintaining an innocent act in such situations. He doesn't get defensive or hostile, rather, he pretends he just doesn't perceive the subtle tone of accusation. No, I haven't. Terrible thing, that. I hope there's some good news to come out of that situation soon...

But to himself, this confirms that he can't afford to leave this individual undealt with. It's not his fault, really. They forced his hand. Not that he's overjoyed to finally have a reasonable self-justification to kill off the person that has secretly always bothered him more than he lets on, though, no, nothing like that.

His method is perfectly simple, although he may have to wait a while to be able to enact it. But no matter, he can bide his time. Everyone gets sick eventually. They'll come to him. And if it's too urgent, they clearly know far too much and he can't afford to wait, he simply makes an invitation, says he has something he heard or saw that may have some connection to you, and that he wishes to discuss it at once.

If it's the former, and he actually has the chance to drug them, he'll easily take that method, as it's the cleanest and the one he's most adept with. And if he invites them to speak with him, well, he'll still poison their tea and all, but he's not going to get his hopes up that it will actually be consumed, given they have every reason to suspect him. Unfortunately, this may mean he's forced to take more unpleasant means.

As much as he enjoys having them out of the way, it turns out the act of killing someone via means other than poison is actually quite unpleasant. He knows he's not healthy and strong enough at the moment to risk being overpowered if he attempted strangulation or drowning, so he just has to go full-on old fashioned and come up behind them and stab them to death. It's a very brutish act, really. Probably looks very awkward and ugly from an outside perspective. Ugh. Blood on his hands and face and the floor and the table... and now he has to wash this shirt, too... at least it will make a decent addition to the compost for herbs. Sigh.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Baizhu is largely defined by a sort of passive attitude, although it does have its limits. But for the most part, he's very tolerant and patient. Part of it is just a natural disposition, while it's also in part due to years of having dealt with a wide variety of people of varying, and often unpleasant, temperaments, in varying levels of discomfort, and thus not always pleasant to deal with.

This can be to your benefit, in terms of the fact that he's forgiving and somewhat lenient towards you. If you put on a sweet act or a pitiful apologetic act, in particular, after getting caught doing something you aren't supposed to be, it turns out to be a weak spot for him. He knows full well you're doing it intentionally, but in his own words, he just can't bring himself to be too upset when you have that look in your eyes.

While beneficial under most circumstances, his patience and slowness to anger can also be incredibly frustrating if you're the bitter type who tries to make him mad. He knows you're doing exactly that, and he knows that not giving you the reaction you want will infuriate you further, and to be honest, it's rather cute watching you get more and more upset. He can hold out for quite a while like that, as long as your behavior is not something harmful to anyone.

Be careful overusing or abusing his lenience, though, or pushing the boundaries. If you take it a step too far, do something one too many times, that patience meets its end. You can tell exactly when you've crossed that line by the look on his face, narrowed eyes and a stern, unamused expression. He speaks in a firmer tone than usual, and is far more blunt with his words.

That's enough, now. I've been very patient with you. Do not test me further.

The sudden shift and stark difference to his usual demeanor is enough to make you freeze up, and deters you on its own, far more than it would coming from someone who usually speaks in that sort of voice. Should you nonetheless, perhaps out of spite, continue your defiance, it goes a step further.

He's still not the sort of person to show anger very outwardly. Quite the opposite. You know you have truly, royally fucked up because he goes dead silent. Takes a deep breath in, heavy sigh out. Puts down the pen or closes a book or whatever else he's handling with a harsh sound, stands up without a word. You can feel a twisting in your stomach from the aura coming off of him, feel a sort of dreadful tension in the air. When he does finally speak, it's in that same cold, firm voice, as he latches a hand onto your arm and begins to pull you off into another room.

Alright, then. I see you don't intend to make this easy.

You can start to sputter out apologies at that point, but you're not going to get any further words out of him. After all, you've made it clear that words aren't enough to get through to you anyway.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

Baizhu is very fond of pet names. Dear. Darling. Love. Even if it embarrasses you, he doesn't really care. It takes a while to get used to, he throws those terms around so casually, it makes you flustered and feel all warm and you're not really sure how to react. But it just comes naturally to him, really, he wasn't initially intending for it to have any effect, although seeing that it does have an effect is quite amusing.

Otherwise, he likes to just spend time with you. The activity doesn't really matter, in fact, you don't even need to be doing the same thing together or anything. You can be doing your own thing while he does his, that's also fine. He just likes being in your vicinity.

Doing things together, though, is very nice. He's fond of doing mundane, routine things with you. Laundry, cooking, cleaning. Helping him restock by handing him jars while he puts them in their proper place, or vice versa. The little things, the things that don't require a great deal of thought or exchange of words, yet allow him to bask in your warmth and the bliss of simplicity in life with someone you love.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Baizhu is a fairly humble man. He's also objective, when it comes to such matters. Love you as he does, he still acknowledges your weaknesses and strengths.

Considering a person to be "greater" or "lesser" as a whole, he would argue, is in and of itself a concept that could only be born from a rather simple brain to begin with. Such a generalization fails to consider the complexity of the individual human existence. It is frankly impossible, or at least distasteful and lacking any respectable extent of intelligent thought, to take a single person — who has a unique skillset, physical and mental attributes, experiences, and a whole array of knowledge unique to that one individual — and condense all that complexity into one simple lump sum of "value", them do the same for another, and compare the two. The very notion itself is lacking intelligence, and only a person equally lacking intelligence and rationality, or perhaps simply a person of a neurotically grandiose nature, would try to claim one person is inherently of greater value.

But he can recognize those individual traits. If he's more intelligent than you are, he's very open to acknowledging it. If you're in better physical shape and health than he is, he'll readily admit it.

A person is what they are, they each have their strengths. If you ever get into the subject, he'll likely start philosophizing a bit about human nature — how tragic it is that so many humans obsess over those strengths that they are lacking, and in doing so allow the strengths they possess to go to waste. It is human nature to be discontent with oneself, perhaps—

Ah... am I boring you? Haha. No, no, it's quite alright.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He fully acknowledges before ever taking you to be with him, that doing so will be detrimental any hopes of mutual affection. That's part of the pros and cons he heavily weighs before going through with that. But alas, it's a necessary hurdle to face, part of the price of having you to himself.

For the short term, at least.

He's not unfamiliar with psychology to some extent, seeing as it and his own field are somewhat related. He's very well aware of the known effects that prolonged isolation and exclusion from the rest of society, as well as forced dependence, will have on a person.

So he's not too worried about it. Sure, you may be resentful now, but he can wait. As he always does. Patient, calculated. He knows eventually there will be a shift, and then a decline. First comes anger, then that will die down, then a period of quiet despond, and eventually, as the soundness of mind deteriorates, you will come back to him, feel the same fondness you did before. It's predictable, linear, like clockwork. The human mind and the human body are alike in that way, often following patterns that can be accurately predicted far before actually reaching that stage of progression. Just as he can heal various diseases and ailments by referencing existing knowledge of the body, so he can "fix" your mind and your sentiments by utilizing the knowledge of the mind.

If you start to become exceptionally discontent and disagreeable at any given time, he'll just go with the foolproof method that works every time — total isolation besides him, dark room, no stimulus, bound hand and foot or kept immobile by drugs. A few days of that and you usually crack. The cycle repeats, but he always knows just how to get you back to the way he prefers you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Firstly, as aforementioned, he's almost amusingly transparent. He explains a good deal of what he does to you and exactly why he's doing it, what affects it will have, etc. Most captors would probably keep quiet on exactly how they intend for their actions to induce a bond with you or force you into this or that, but not him.

You're smart, see. He knows you'll probably figure it out anyway. What's the point of withholding it then? Besides, he has a habit of thinking out loud sometimes, so it just comes natural to him to sort of mutter about what he's doing as he goes about his tasks. No point in refraining from that when there's no real reason to.

It's not as if you knowing what he's doing or what the intended effect is will make it any less effective. Maybe you'll develop a bit of spite and fight the effects, thus prolonging the procedure, but it will work all the same in the end anyway. If anything, seeing you resist is rather cute. But you'll succumb nonetheless, so, no need to be secretive.

Another obstacle he faces that others in a similar obsessive predicament do not is, well, himself. Baizhu is forced to take his own health and physical capacity into account to a degree most others never would have to give a passing thought to.

You'd think that his frailness might serve as an advantage to you — and you'd be right, sort of. It would serve as an advantage to you, were he to not account for it.

Unfortunately for you, he does account for it, and goes to great lengths — paranoid measures, even — to ensure you cannot take advantage of it. These chronic problems sometimes follow patterns and cycles, and usually have warning signs before becoming worse, so if he knows he's going to be in a weakened state, he gets much heavier on the restraints, and goes ahead with drugging you into immobility, even though you haven't done anything to deserve what is usually used as a punishment. It's also one of the few times he'll give you a very sincere apology. I know it's unpleasant, but I don't have much of a choice right now. You know it's serious from the lack of his usual warm whimsical voice of his, instead speaking in a very blunt voice laden with discomfort. You suppose you can summon a bit of pity, even if you're frustrated.

You also notice, though, that he's always insistent that he's fine and doesn't need help, even if that's blatantly untrue. The man will sound like he's coughing his lungs up for a minute straight and when you rush over with a concerned look on your face, he forces a chuckle and smiles and waves his hand dismissively. No, no, it's fine, really, that's a regular occurrence, it will die down in a minute or s— and breaks out coughing again.

He doesn't want you to see him in a state he feels looks pathetic. You figure that out eventually, given that he always stands up and goes into another room if the coughing fits get too bad, and how you can tell he's forcing himself to act as if he's not in discomfort or pain when he cares for you during his episodes of poorer condition.

It's something he's very stubborn about too. Usually he's so transparent, but even if you push him, tell him you're well aware he's not well or that you're fine and he should lay down, he continues to downplay it and insist it's not that bad. Just a bit of an ache, he says, or just a bit drowsy. He's relentless on this, no matter how much you push.

There's another unique factor to your captivity, but it doesn't have much to do with Baizhu himself.

See, there's plenty of captors or obsessed lovers you might end up with who have companions or accomplices you would meet, but no other quite so... slithery.

And few quite so cold, either. Changsheng, and the dynamic she takes in relation to the both of you, is a very odd experience.

Firstly, she is of no help to you. You weren't really sure what to expect from a literal talking snake, but you at least figured that if she possessed human thought capacity, she would perhaps possess a sense of empathy as well.

But she never brings up or even really acknowledges the circumstances of your situation. You tried once or twice, but she immediately shuts you down if the conversation is headed in that direction.

These sorts of interpersonal relationships are no business of mine. Know that I have no intention of interference.

While a bit disappointing, you did more or less know that even if she empathized, she wouldn't likely be of much help.

She still takes some getting used to. To be honest, she moves so quietly that for the first little while, she nearly gave you a heart attack on several occasions. You'll be going about some idle task, turn your gaze to look at or reach for something, only to come face-to-face with a snake in very close proximity.

AH! Oh, I, um...

What is the matter?

N-no, I just... uh...

You are at unease due to my presence?

No! No, I just didn't... see you there...

She has a bit of a sharp tongue and stern nature, and you initially do feel very uneasy, both out of not wanting to upset her as well as some primal instinct telling you that the creature that sits next to you is a dangerous one, even if your conscious mind knows better.

She does feel the need to comment on whatever you're doing, especially when trying to do tasks to help (or just to have something to do) by doing some work in the storerooms.

By what system of organization are you determining the order to place these jars in, hm?

You are not plotting anything nefarious back here by yourself, yes?

You there... these counters are slippery. I instruct you to place me on the surface over there.

At first, you feel bullied and bossed around... but over time you come to realize that despite the criticisms, she's intentionally seeking you out, whenever Baizhu is busy. In fact, whenever he goes off to a house call by himself or to take care of some task, it's usually only a matter of minutes before she shows up.

And truth be told, over time, you do bond. It's an unspoken sort of thing, something you think she might have started doing without consciously realizing she's doing it, but she begins... scaling you, climbing over and on you in the same way she does her contractual companion. The first time, you were reading over some piece of mail slid under the door when you felt a slight weight on your shoulder.

What is that? Oh, I see...

Gradually, it becomes an unspoken norm, a habit that neither of you really acknowledge out loud, but you understand it's a significant milestone in your relationship to each other, whatever that relationship may be defined as. You'll be standing around, working on whatever, when you feel the cold scales brush against your ankle... and now that cold sensation is spiraling up your leg, then your waist, and she positions herself around your shoulders just as she would Baizhu himself. Often commenting on or criticizing whatever you're doing, but sometimes just... relaxing there. She likes being on a person — humans are warm, and while she wouldn't admit it, she just sort of enjoys the company sometimes. If Baizhu is unavailable, you're the next best option. And sometimes, she's merely using you as a means of transportation, telling you to go somewhere else so she can get off, with you being able to get wherever it is faster, especially if it involves stairs.

Or sometimes, you'll be sitting down and she sees no reason to go around you to get where she's going, instead just slithering right over your lap without so much as a word, either to cross over you to get elsewhere, or to rest on you for a while. Then there was that time you were laying on the couch, trying your best to take a nap when you stiffened and nearly felt your heart stop for the umpteenth time when a cold sensation spread as she slithered her way underneath your shirt, curling up into a ball on your stomach.

It is cold outside and there is a draft. You will have to suffice for the moment.

And you also notice that, although it may feel harsh, oftentimes her criticisms and advice are genuinely helpful, either making a task significantly easier or preventing you from potentially hurting yourself in a specific process. You still can't quite let go of a bit of bitterness over her essentially being cooperative in your captivity, but you can't say you don't appreciate her.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's actually quite touchy from the start. It's one of the few things that sort of unsettles you and gives some sense of something being "off" even early on. You're pretty sure you don't know each other well enough for him to have just brushed his fingers over your arm, or to rest his hand on your shoulder, or to clasp your hand between his for a moment as he tells you he'll see to this or that that you've requested. The touches continue to grow more noticeable with time, and they're just so very perfectly lingering for a time that's long enough to be noticeable, but not long enough for you to feel like saying something is a warranted reaction. No, you'd be overreacting if you said anything, right? It's not that bad, it's only for a few seconds, so perfectly timed as if he's knowingly releasing his touch at the right second. Always right on the edge.

Even after that, once you're living with him, he's very casually touchy. He'll run his fingers back and forth over your side or back when you're sitting or lying next to each other, runs his fingers through your scalp, rest an arm over your side or shoulders.

His drive, on the other hand, depends entirely on his current physical condition. Whenever certain chronic problems are flaring up and his health takes a negative turn, as you can imagine, his sex drive also plummets, and he's in too much discomfort to do much movement anyway. Other times, with other problems flaring up, it's particularly frustrating because he does still have a sex drive, but is in too much discomfort to do much... there's some creative ways to work around that, but nonetheless, it's irksome.

He's not particularly reserved about sexuality at all, actually, under the right circumstances. Of course, if asked about his reasoning for this, he acknowledges and understands the cultural sensitivity to such things, and concurs with the topic being something you don't just randomly talk about; that is, he obviously has a firm grasp on what is and isn't appropriate in various settings and doesn't violate conventions of appropriateness. It's just that when it's alone with you, he can talk about the filthiest and most intimate of things without batting an eye or any sign of embarrassment. It's just a natural part of human life, isn't it? If anything, the act is one that should be viewed as beautiful. The poetic sort of people tend to describe it as an ultimate expression of affection between individuals, and if you ask him, that's something that should be treasured.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He views forcing that sort of thing as a behavior that's more or less beneath him. Barbaric, brutish, uncivilized... brute force, that is. Other measures, though, that's another matter. Things like drugs and coercion don't have quite the same vibe of brutality and inhumanity.

Regardless, though, the key factor is your experience. He's the type that can't really enjoy a sexual experience unless you're also clearly enjoying it... the catch being that you obtaining pleasures and enjoyment is not exactly the same thing as outright consent. As long as you cum, it counts as being mutually enjoyed.

He still doesn't really like the thought of having to be physically forceful though, that would make him feel brutish. He'll be sure to sedate you early on. If you're sluggish and barely moving, you can't really offer resistance in the first place... and you're more pliable to his hands, too.

And yes, he will use your pleasure against you, telling you that you clearly don't hate it all that much — just look at what you've done, he says, holding up the fingers coated in your own fluids, pressing them against your tongue, your jaw too weak to prevent him from sliding his fingers in. The mouth says one thing, the body another... but the mouth is capable of lying, the body really isn't, so it's better to trust that which he knows is being honest.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He can't go too hard and fast... well, he sometimes does anyway, his efforts aided by adrenaline, which quickly catches up to him as soon as it's over. He's not particularly rough though, nor does he cause you pain. That's not to say he's entirely without a sadistic side — he does find himself enjoying seeing you in a state of humiliation and anticipation, he just prefers to use pleasures and intense, but not painful, sensations to do so.

Drugging

That is, of course, the one you likely anticipated the most. He's not at all shy about it. Even if you by chance had something consensual going on before being kept captive, he's very open about the desire to experiment on your body by triggering reactions to various substances.

There's a variety of different options to try, lots of combinations and records of the effects different traditional medicines have on the body. This one heightens blood flow and skin sensitivity, this one induced lactation... ah, but his personal preference is this one that gives you a buzzing, euphoric high, accompanied by a voracious appetite for pleasure and orgasms for the next hour or so. He gives you the full history of how ancients in this area used to use it for fertility ceremonial purposes back in the day, explaining it calmly while he ties your hands to the headboard, as you pant and whimper and gasp for breath underneath him. Quite nice, isn't it?

And if you're being less than compliant and agreeable, he can also go the route of sedation. Not entirely, no, he doesn't want you to be fully unconscious, nor forget any of it later. No, what he forces into your mouth makes you more... relaxed. You, after the fact and in an accusatory tone, use the word 'paralyzed,' but he insists that that's an overdramatization. Firstly, it's not the same medication he uses when he actually leaves you fully unable to move, and secondly, you can still sort of move your fingers and toes and head, your muscles are just relaxed and at ease, preventing movement of actual limbs. Your words slur, you feel dizzy and tired, yet you feel every little touch. And see, your abdominal muscles twitched when he runs his fingers over your stomach, so you still have some muscular control... Not to mention, he can still feel your insides spasming and clenching when he curls his fingers inside of you, too.

Oh, and even in general, he makes sure you take a daily dose of tea made from some cocktail of bitter herbs he put together. You're told it's a blend that boosts your metabolism and brain activity and blood circulation, so on and so on, basically like a multi-purpose medicine for overall health. Which is true, it does do all of those things. It just so happens that all of those things also are known to increase sex drive, not to mention a few of them boost hormone production. But that's just a side effect, of course.

Orgasm control

Baizhu has a very specific long-term goal in mind to train you for: getting you to cum on command. It's a fantasy he's entertained in his head quite a few times. No reason to not try to make it a reality, now that he has you here with him. The concept itself is fascinating, the idea that a largely involuntary bodily reaction can be gradually, perfectly conditioned to align with someone else's words. It's such an ultimate power trip and absolute control, the thought is intoxicating.

And of course, being as patient and dedicated as this man has already proven himself to be, you know there's no getting out of it. Hours upon hours of edging, being told not to cum because you can't without his explicitly telling you to. If you do, he pulls his hand away, ruining the orgasm itself, leaving you to whimper and whine, that much more so if, after a few failed attempts, he ends up applying an additional corporeal punishment to try and further the negative association with cumming too soon. If you're good and endure, cum when he tells you to, you'll be likewise rewarded in some way.

Over and over. It goes on for weeks, months, that you have these training sessions, until it's perfected. You yourself are almost shocked by the progress, to realize just how much your body and your subconscious has submitted — it's on one of his better health days, he has the energy and lack of any aches to be able to take you on your hands and knees from behind, and it does feel good, but you're not that close — and yet, when he pulls your upper half up, forces your back into an arch, puts his hand on your throat and tilts his head down to speak directly in your ear and tells you to in the lowest, huskiest voice you've ever heard him speak in to cum for me — and you spasm, it hits you like a punch to the gut with the way the high rushes over your body. It leaves you sputtering and shivering as you collapse onto the bed, wide-eyed in shock. Even he seems a bit surprised too, chuckling as he sees the stunned expression on your face.

Oh, that worked better than even I anticipated...

He can also use orgasms as a form of withdrawal and coercion punishments. Primarily at the times that you're immobilized. You'll begin to grow needy after a time, and that makes you far more compliant. He keeps track of how long it's been since you last got to cum, and makes sure to remind you, just so you know how long you've been missing it, and so you'll be that much more quick to crack under the desperation of need.

Instruction/Obedience

Sometimes, once you've reached a state where he's assured you'll be fairly compliant with him, he gets surprisingly passive when he comes to you for intimacy.

Physically passive, at least. Motions you over with a finger gesture, starts giving you instructions. His voice is always so charming and gentle that it's hard to call it a command, per se, but it's telling you what to do nonetheless. To take this or that off, to straddle his waist, kiss him, put it in your mouth, ride him, touch yourself, on and on as he walks you through each little motion he craves to watch with his own eyes. It gets more specific and lewd with each instruction, starting off with just take your clothes off and eventually progressing to telling you exactly how to touch yourself, rub in circles, curl your fingers, lower yourself down and take him in, roll your hips, bounce on his cock, look him in the eye when you cum, every little thing.

...Eventually, you figure out that he does this on the days where he's not feeling well enough to do the moving himself, yet is still in good enough condition that he still has a sex drive. What a clever adaptation.

Exposure

It's not something he uses often, seeing as there are other people than just the two of you in his residence, but it can make a suitable punishment whenever you're confined to one room, or when everyone else is out. There's something just endearing about seeing you all embarrassed and flustered after being forced into nudity, the way you try desperately to cover yourself with your arms, the way you get all pouty in your humiliation and refuse to look him in the eye as you demand your clothes back.

But this is your choice, he reminds you. If only you would be a bit more cooperative, that wouldn't have to be the case, but that's entirely up to you. Until then, if you want to get out of bed for any reason, you'll just have to walk around as you are. And no, he's not going anywhere. Why would he leave when he has such a nice view? He smiles when you puff your cheeks out and curl your hands into fists out of embarrassed fury. Eventually, you do have to give in, get up and go do whatever it is you need to — and you feel his eyes on you the whole time as you do. When you glare in his direction, he just tilts his head. Oh? Is something the matter?

Such a shameless pervert, you think to yourself. What's worse, you know if you say something, he'll pull some cheesy line about 'examining' you or another. Ugh.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He'd be a bit worried about having any biological children. One one hand, there's a lot to be gained by having something tying you to him on such a deeply emotional level, that would likely cement you in place by making running away that much harder, and suppress your will to leave to begin with, or even accelerate your attachment to him.

At the same time, he has to be realistic. Is he really in any position to be caring for children, a task requiring great stamina? There's also the possibility you could turn children against him, or something like that. And if you were to encounter some sort of gestational health problem and require medical attention, there's no telling whether or not you'd be so stubborn as to to refuse to comply out of fear he'd drug you or something, which could pose very real risks to your well-being if he couldn't get you to work with him. So as nice as the notion seems when pictured in the ideal, there's just too many risks and complications that could take place.

But, there's a solution. One that will easily provide the same psychological attachment, and thereby allow a subtle degree of manipulation.

Once he can be sure you wouldn't try to harm her or anything, he deliberately ensures you and Qiqi spend time with each other. Initially, he tells you to watch over her while she goes about her tasks, help her out a bit. She can be forgetful, you know. Regardless of your sentiment, you can't bring yourself to be cold or rude to what is ultimately, despite the circumstances, still a relatively normal little girl.

Although he does, before leaving you two alone, make sure to give you a very firm warning. Well, the words themselves aren't a a threat, but there's an edge to his tone, when he responds to you raising your eyebrows and asking if he's really allowing this.

It's quite alright. I trust you surely wouldn't try to get a child involved in anything you shouldn't.

The words admittedly do have a bite to them. Would it really be a moral wrong, for you to try and enlist her for help...? It's not like he would ever harm her, but still, you question the sort of psychological damage you'd be risking. There's an inherent feeling of wrongness when you think about putting the kid under a situation that, if you succeeded in getting her to help you, would result in a great deal of distress and confusion and even long-term psychological damage from what would ensue. And when you think about it even further, you realize with a twisting feeling in your gut that if you escaped your captor and got him locked up... what would happen to her...? It's an unpleasant thought, even if you tell yourself you'd make sure she was cared for.

Nonetheless, eventually, on one of your worst and most bitter and resentful days, in a moment of desperation, you do finally crack. It will be fine, you tell yourself. You're doing something good overall. Someone like that shouldn't be responsible for a kid in the first place, right? So if you just get her to run by the law enforcement when she's out herb-gathering...

Listen, I, uh, I need you to do something for me, okay?

Mm...? Okay...

You wait patiently as the hours pass, hoping you look like less of a nervous wreck than you are, hoping you're not actually as jittery as you feel, a whole swarm of emotions of dread and hope and anticipation swirling in your gut. You practically pounce on the poor girl when she comes back through the doors.

Did... did they say anything? Are they coming?

You're met with a blank stare, a long pause.

Uh... who...? Was I supposed to... do something...?

You're pretty sure you gave up either the third or fourth time that happened. Can't really remember which. You start to realize that the reason he seemed so unbothered by the thought of leaving you alone with her wasn't so much his trust in you as much as it was complete assurance there was never any real risk anyway. Sigh.

But you don't hold it against her. You continue watching over her and taking care of her when you can. And the most frustrating part is that you know exactly what the intent is, and yet, you also know it's working.

You find yourself caring more and more about the girl. There was that time she stumbled and fell flat on her face and before you even really processed what you were doing, you'd already rushed over across the room to get her back up. Hey, hey, are you okay...? Or the time everyone else had stepped away for a moment due to some issue or another, leaving the front of the pharmacy unmanned for just a few moments — just enough time to find some big, disgruntled-looking guy looming over the child (who admittedly didn't seem intimidated or anything, just the usual blank stare), going on about some complaint he must have found no one else present to give to, and once more, without really thinking, you found yourself rushing over, picking her up and pulling her away, holding her to your side as if to shield her, finding yourself growing immediately defensive, glaring back. The hell is wrong with you? The owner will be back in just a minute, you'll have to wait. You find yourself a bit surprised at your own sharpness of tongue.

You feel this caring, protective swell in your chest regrading her. You're not so headstrong as to deny to yourself the truth, that you know you've developed emotional attachment towards and even some maternal instinct for the child. That admittedly, you wouldn't want to leave her, and that you'd worry how she'd fare by herself without you, even if you know she was doing fine before you. And most upsettingly, you know that that was exactly what the plan was.

Maybe if it had been one-sided, then, at least you could have shaken the feeling off, but that's not the case either. You make a habit of taking some time to yourself in a specific room every day, a time in the late afternoon when there's always a rush of people coming in, leaving Baizhu himself quite busy, so you get some time to sit and read or whatever task you set yourself to. A routine quickly develops — there's a set of pattering footsteps in the hall, she pokes her head around the door to check if you're there, and quietly shuffles in and sits next to you. Silent, but present. She doesn't say or do anything, she just sits.

Not that that's the only habit that develops. It's one of those situations that progresses subtly yet quickly, so you don't really remember when each starts. You just become aware one day that each little routine or habit has been going on for some time now. That when you walk around the back of the pharmacy going about your day, there's often a little hand clinging to your skirts or pant legs, quietly walking alongside you while latching on. That when you make yourself something to snack on, you get out two plates or bowls and make two helpings of whatever it is without really thinking about it.

She doesn't usually have a lot to say, but it's always pleasant, she's not quite like the stereotypical hyperactive kid, no, she lets you do whatever you're doing and doesn't interrupt much, just seems to want to be around you.

You allow it, of course. You don't have the heart not to, even though you know you shouldn't, that you shouldn't allow the closeness and should push her away because you know it will inevitably lead to exactly what he wants.

You can still pinpoint the exact moment, though, that you knew it was already too late. Sitting there doing some idle task or another in silence when you feel weight leaning over against your side, head resting on your arm, and that soft, monotone voice.

I like having you here.

Dammit. You could physically feel that tug on your heart. If that wasn't the final nail in the coffin, nothing else could top the emotion that gave you. You resign yourself to finally acknowledging that you've already fallen for the scheme.

...Not that she's just an advantageous tool. The flip side disadvantage is that she's also a bit of a liability. He's given her the 'if you tell anyone about her, she'll have to go away forever' talk several times over, and the poor girl always widens her tired eyes and seems very distressed at that notion, but her memory is not exactly known for being that great. There was that time some law enforcement came by to ask about you, saying something about how someone claimed to have seen a young woman in this courtyard area on the night of the disappearance. When your name is spoken, the girl's eyes widen, her lips part and she's just started to raise her arm up to point to the back room and say the words 'oh, I kn—' when she's interrupted by being picked up, hand clamped over her mouth and carried out of the room—

Ah, why don't you go run along—

And unceremoniously set in the hall, the door shut behind.

...Not good for a child to hear something fearful like a disappearance, that's all. Could give her nightmares or something. Surely they understand that...?

Thankfully, the present officials do, just nodding and continuing on, seemingly not taking that as reason to suspect anything. Poor Baizhu, it's one of the few moments he actually nearly lost composure, slumping back into a chair with a heavy sigh of relief as soon as they leave. That surely did not do his heart palpitation issue any favors...

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

One of the most unbearable things is the wait and the dread. It's never immediate. He always says something to the effect of ah, I need some time to think about how to handle this..., which you come to realize is just intentionally dragging out your fearful anticipation. To say he has somewhat of a sadistic side would be a fairly accurate statement, he doesn't really want to cause you physical pain, but he does find himself enjoying watching you squirm and shudder and stiffen, consumed with anticipation, dread and fear, as well as reactions of humiliation and embarrassment. He tries to refrain to some extent, but finds himself indulging in invoking those reactions from you more often than he'd like to admit for the sake of his own perception of his self-control.

It's not particularly painful, though, so you can be grateful for that... although there is a sort of dull ache after a while. Getting the drugs into your system is the only difficult part, as you squirm too much to safely inject you, but refuse to open your mouth, so compliance is a bit of a challenge, forcing him to find some means of holding you still. From there, your body sort of does the punishing for you. It's unlike anything you've ever felt — an unbearable sensation of heat, so intense it leaves sweat rolling down your skin, leaves you panting and shivering and gasping for breath, limbs twitching as they desperately pull against the binds keeping your ankles and wrists taut against the bedposts.

He wouldn't leave you to suffer that alone, of course. Well, maybe for a short while, half an hour or so, to heighten the desperation, but after that, he's right there to help you, affectionately running his hand over the top of your head and speaking to you in a soft voice, all far too gentle to be one and the same as the person responsible for your present state of misery.

What do you need? Tell me how to help you.

You're not compliant at first, of course. You shake your head and clench your jaw and refuse to just make this so much easier on you both. It takes a little while. A little more urging and comforting, running his fingers over your thighs and sides and all the parts of your flesh just sensitive enough to earn a shudder, before you start to melt into his touch, and eventually give in, tell him what you want.

There we go. That wasn't so difficult, was it?

Not that the torment ends there, of course. Just giving in to tell him isn't enough.

But you haven't been entirely... appreciative, have you? If I do this for you, it pains me to think it will only go unrecognized like everything else I do for you. If you ask with sincerity, maybe...

Once you've swallowed your pride entirely, then, you can get some semblance of relief. Although that itself becomes torturous with time. The intensity doesn't die down, the unbearable urge is still there, yet each successive orgasm begins to become painful, each erogenous spot on your body becomes sore and hypersensitive to the touch. You loathe to admit you end up in tears by the end of it. No worry, though, he's right there to comfort you through it... and ensure you this doesn't have to happen, but you continue to choose it time and time again.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Curvature. It's not really any one specific spot, per se, but he would say it counts. The degree of it doesn't really matter, whether it's slight or pronounced. He likes the way his hands feel running over curved areas like your hips and waist, thighs, shoulders. It's something he can appreciate even when his eyes are closed, late at night, just slowly running his hands over the spots and feeling the bends and dips. There's also, of course, the fact that it provides a nice sort of grip, a spot he can lock his arms or hands around and know you won't be able to pull away easily.

#qqi simultaneously being bzhu's greatest tool but also riskiest liability is amusing to me #yandere genshin impact #baizhu x reader

[keepingeahalive]

Why Rapple Wouldn’t Work as a Couple

First off, let’s get this out of the way: Raven and Apple are not related. Well…more like distantly related, but to the point where any relation is almost nil. Raven is not destined to marry Apple’s father because Apple’s dad and Raven’s dad (The Good King) are two separate characters. Raven is only destined to be jealous of Apple and poison her. That is all.

Okay, on with the real debate.

I'm probably gonna get a lot of hate for this, but I can't see Apple and Raven as a couple. While both of their arcs were about coming to accept each other, they weren't equal in their relationship. Raven made it clear to Apple many times that she felt disrespected, and Apple ignored that and pushed her own agenda on her. It may have come from a place of caring, but Apple didn't get Raven at all. I can see them working through their issues down the line, but their love story (if you can call it that) is better as platonic.

Bulldozing and Passive Aggression

From the first episode, we can see that Apple immediately took control for both of them. She went behind Raven's back to room with her and decorated Raven's side of the room without her permission, all because Raven is an important part of "her" story.

Not their story. "Her" story.

Her friendship with Raven in the first three chapters was surface-level at best. She assumes what Raven wants instead of actually getting to know her, like when she decides to take "Home Evil-nomics" to get back at Raven for taking Princessology. But Raven's favorite class isn't Home Evil-nomics. It's Muse-ic.

We can see Raven trying to be patient with Apple because Raven is a good person. She doesn't want a repeat of what happened between Snow White and the Evil Queen. In fact, we see her other friends hide their concerns from Apple because they don't want to upset her.

When Ashlynn finally comes out about her relationship with Hunter, she's immediately met with Apple's dismay. Apple tells her several times that she's making the wrong decision, and it gets to Ashlynn so much that she chooses her friendship with Apple over her relationship with Hunter because she doesn't want everyone to be upset. Although Ashlynn decides to do what makes her happy, Apple still tells her outright that she's making the wrong choice.

Briar starts to feel the weight of her destiny sink in and, instead of being met with compassion and understanding, Apple tells Briar "we all have our part to play." While Briar rightfully calls her out for how privileged she is, it takes her three chapters and two more specials to admit to Apple that she was too scared to tell anyone that she didn't want to follow her destiny.

They both go behind Raven's back to poison a birthday cake she made for Apple just so she would stop crying about it.

Apple is the next Queen of Ever After, and she wants to take an active role in serving her people. But she thinks she knows what's best for everyone. If they don't do what she says, then there's something wrong and she has to fix them. Everyone enabled this behavior, except for Raven. This domination is what causes her and Raven's tension at the start of the series.

2. Apple's Fears

Apple is a selfish character. But that selfishness is born of fear.

She believes going against her destiny means dying and being forgotten.

I believe she does care about her friends, in the same vein a God-fearing church-goer cares about the people in her community. She believes there is only one true way of staying safe: following your destiny. If you don't, something bad happens. And she has to remind you of that. She thinks she's helping people when she's really being insensitive and condescending. And this comes down the hardest on Raven.

Raven is the equivalent of someone who's become disillusioned with their faith. She's unhappy with the system she's been put in and she wants something better. That doesn't mean she's not afraid of what might happen if she does. She's terrified she might doom everyone at first. But taking a risk on Legacy Day and showing everyone they can live without following a predetermined path made her and others more hopeful that they could live better lives.

But Apple can't be convinced with one act of rebellion. She doubles down on her beliefs and blames Raven for ruining her Happily Ever After. She's so afraid of her future being uncertain that she would rather follow a status quo where someone she claims to care for is locked away for the rest of her life. You could argue that she doesn't understand that's what would happen, but she never bothered to understand Raven's perspective. Raven takes Apple's perspective in Thronecoming and considers the consequences of her actions. Raven cares about her friends too, so much that she's willing to put her happiness aside to keep them safe. Apple never once did that for her, or for any of her other friends.

This stems from Apple being promised the best destiny out of anyone. She'd go on to live a very prestigious life as Queen. But she's too naive to realize what that would mean for everyone else: Raven would be locked up for the rest of her life, Ashlynn would die to continue her legacy, and Briar would marry some random dude several decades younger than her and never see Apple or anyone she knew ever again. I understand that no one wants to lose the stability they've had their entire life. But she doesn't seem to understand how good she has it.

3. Apple and Raven's Growth

Way Too Wonderland and Dragon Games gave us a lot in terms of character development. Apple and Raven have gotten to know each other better at this point. Even though they have their differences, they do care about each other.

Say what you will about Way Too Wonderland, but I do believe Apple has come to know Raven and is genuinely shocked and heartbroken when Raven finally signed the Storybook of Legends. She's come to care about who Raven really is, she knows Raven would never want to hurt anyone, and she realizes that destinies can be dangerous. I understand her main reasoning was that anyone could easily take someone else's destiny if they had the chance. But seeing what signing the book did to Raven frightened her. Destroying the book with Raven cemented a level of trust and understanding that Raven was longing for.

Which is what makes Dragon Games so heartbreaking.

Apple is a privileged little princess who was promised the best destiny one could expect. I don't think anyone would be all that happy about letting that go. It goes back to what she fears the most. She doesn't know what to do without her destiny. And with her mother only feeding into these insecurities, it allows Apple's doubts to resurface and for someone to take advantage of that.

Apple could have prevented releasing the Evil Queen. But she was too deep in her own cowardice to think clearly. Desperation will make people do anything, especially if promised a happy ending for you and everyone you love (maybe subconsciously hoping Raven would be her True Love). That doesn't excuse her freeing a war criminal who happens to be her best friend's estranged mother, thereby breaking her trust all over again. Raven had just started seeing Apple as someone she could depend on. That's gone now, and Raven had a right to be angry with Apple's selfishness and cowardice.

"But Apple realized her mistake and Raven forgave her in the end!" That's true, but that doesn't mean things are okay between them. Apple is still Raven's friend, and it's in Raven's character to forgive her. But I don't see her forgetting this experience any time soon. That trust would have to be built up all over again and, if you ask me, this ruled out any chance of them getting together romantically. I think Raven would need some time away from Apple to figure things out. Apple could use that time to figure herself out too, especially after figuring out it was Darling who woke her.

If that trust was able to be built back up again, hopefully they would have grown as people and learned to be better friends. But you can't expect this level of trust to be regained for a partnership.

4. A One-Sided Romance

If Rapple were to be anything romantic, it would only come from Apple.

Apple was always obsessed with Raven. I do believe she wanted Raven to fulfill their destinies so they would both be safe, but was too selfish to consider how that would look from Raven's end. She never showed any interest in Daring and, while she enjoyed the admiration she got from other boys, never expressed interest in anyone else.

Except Raven.

So, yes. I do believe Apple was in love with Raven. But I can't see Raven returning those feelings. Apple always disregarded what she wanted, ignored her when she argued against her destiny, and continually tried to turn Raven into something she wasn't. Even after her much-needed character development in Way to Wonderland and Dragon Games, these two still don't have a good foundation of trust between them. If we had gotten more of the show, we might have seen some healing. And, in my opinion, that would include Apple learning to let go of Raven and focusing on her own growth as a person.

And maybe someone else...

In all seriousness, Apple and Raven have a complicated relationship that I don't see working romantically. I know they have the most development together, and it would be an interesting take on the enemies-to-lover trope. But with how often Apple betrayed Raven's trust and how grounded and self-aware Raven is, I can't see them getting together.

I can see Raven being Apple's first crush, but the closest these two can get is sisters.

Because, you know, Raven has a boyfriend. It's Dexter. Say what you want about him, but they have a healthier relationship than Raven and Apple could ever have, romantic or not.

#eah #ever after high #lgbtq #apple white #eah apple #raven queen #eah raven #rapple #dappling #I can't believe I'm talking about this #I know I'm gonna get hate for this #but I feel like it needs to be said #Apple needs to grow up #Raven needs some space #thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[jedi-enthusiast]

I just came across a post someone made where they basically just said that Padme telling Anakin “it’s human to be angry” after he commits the Tusken Massacre is fine because she was “empathizing with him” and also criticizing the SW fandom via satire for criticizing Padme for that and saying that there was still good in him.

So one thing I need people to understand before they ever start getting on the- “you can’t criticize Padme, she did nothing wrong, she was just in love” -soapbox, is that her and Anakin’s love story is inherently toxic on both ends.

There is no version of their story that ends well if they stay together.

Anakin is a narcissistic abuser*, and Padme is an enabler of his behavior.

(*Keep in mind, when I say “Anakin is an abuser,” I mean the emotional abuser sort—as he doesn’t ever physically harm her until RotS)

This post is primarily about Padme, though, so I’ll just make another post analyzing Anakin—if that’s something y’all would be interested in.

—————

Think about it, though.

Anakin commits mass murder, including the murder of literal children, and Padme—someone who the fandom loves to point to as being morally perfect—basically says that it’s fine because being angry- (and committing mass murder because of it ig) -is normal.

She even rewards him by marrying him like, what is it, a day later? And she never tells anyone about it because god forbid Anakin face any consequences.

Anakin almost beats a man to death and then blames Padme for her own assault, she says he scares her and they need to take a break…but then she goes back to him soon after and apparently forgets all about the whole- “almost beating a man to death” -thing and is so excited to raise a family with him.

Because growing up in a household where their father regularly gets incredibly angry, and physically violent when he is, totally won’t traumatize the kid or anything! Raising children with a child-murderer totally isn’t cause for concern!

Anakin takes part in a genocide, massacres the Temple, ONCE AGAIN MURDERS CHILDREN…and she’s still begging him to stay with her so they can raise their perfect little family on Naboo.

And apparently he’s still a good person.

Right.

—————

Anakin never receives any consequences or pushback from Padme for his actions/behavior and, on the rare occasions she does push back, she goes running back to him—plowing over her own boundaries—almost immediately because she refuses to let go of her own delusional fantasies about their relationship.

That is what people are criticizing for, not for falling in love in the first place.

Anakin has his own set of issues that make the relationship toxic, but Padme also takes part in that toxicity by enabling his behavior—and people are well within their rights to criticize her for it, just like they should criticize Anakin.

#star wars #sw prequels #the clone wars #anti anakin skywalker #anti anidala #anakin skywalker critical #padme amidala critical

[rachalixie]

a/n: a little 2min x reader thing i wrote at 1am because @gimmeurtmi is a little enabler and sent me into a spiral (i love u wife). it's just my need to have the boys i'm in love with also be in love with each other.

dating both seungmin and minho was an interesting experience in almost all aspects. 

the two were, quite literally, like cat and dog. they bicker constantly, provoking one another just to get a rise out of it, but still insanely protective of one another. they’d been friends for longer than either of them had known you, a history there that you could never understand no matter how hard you tried to. they were roommates after all, they spent more time with each other than they did with anyone else. 

you fell in love with them at the same time. they were a constant from day one, wiggling their way into your life until they found a home there. they were unusual, they were frustrating, they were wonderful. a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around - maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice. 

they were flirting. 

their bickering was their ploys for attention, their jabs at each other were their ways of showing affection, their protective streaks were their way of saying i see you, i care about you, please be okay. 

it frustrates you that it took you months to realize this. months of sleeping over, alternating whose bed you ended up in at the end of the day. now, lying wide awake next to a softly snoring minho, the puzzle pieces finally line up and you’re stuck with the slowly spiraling thought that the two stupid men you fell in love with were also in love with each other. 

you hear soft footsteps outside of the room followed by the squeak of minho’s doorknob turning, and you close your eyes and level your breathing. you didn’t want to see kim seungmin right now. you didn’t want to speak to kim seungmin right now. 

he pads to the bedside table, quiet as possible to not wake you or minho. you hear the click of minho’s bedside lamp and the orangey glow behind your eyelids disappears.  

seungmin can’t sleep with the lights on, even the softest glow from the crack beneath his door bothers him. his room is always shrouded in darkness, the thickest blackout curtains lining his windows and covers over every charging cable. 

“stupid hyung,” he mutters, sliding out of the room as fast as he entered it. 

this is something you’ve seen him do often. he would sneak into minho’s room, slick and quiet, and turn the lights off. he would never bring it up to minho, never scold him for leaving the lights on and disturbing his sleep. 

seungmin can’t sleep with the lights on. minho knows this. minho, for all of his teasing and general i-don’t-give-a-fuck facade, he remembers these tiny details. he would never do something purposefully that would harm someone else’s health, especially kim seungmin’s. 

he’s been leaving the lights burning on purpose. just so seungmin has to come into his room and then them off. just so he has a little pocket of interaction to hold close. and seungmin has been letting him. seungmin was never one to hold back from complaining to minho about his behavior, from the way he leaves his shoes just an inch away from the rack to the way he breathes too loud during movie nights. so, why does he not complain about this? why does he not barge in and wake minho up in his frustration instead of creeping in and out like a ghost?

because they love each other, your traitorous brain supplies. 

you’re still pretending to be asleep when you hear minho sigh and roll over, his hand coming to cover his face. you can hear the smile in his breath, and you’re sure that if you opened your eyes you’d be able to see the fiery red burning in his ears, even in the dark. interesting. 

this stays with you for days. weeks. you know you spend a little too much time staring at them now, but you can’t help it. if they notice, they don’t bring it up to you. 

you start staying awake later on the days that you’re in minho’s bed, just to get a glimpse of seungmin coming in and out of the room. sometimes, he would turn off the light quickly and leave just as fast. other times, he would take a second to stare at minho’s face with heavy eyes, pausing for longer than necessary before turning and walking away. on rare occasions, when he notices that the blankets have shifted away, he pulls them over an exposed knee or elbow or foot, tucking minho in like he’s a child that needs to be coddled. 

minho wakes up sometimes. he sighs like he’s in school and he’s experiencing his first crush, every single time. other times he remains fast asleep, mumbling lightly in unintelligent syllables. but every day that seungmin visits his room, he wakes up utterly content and pleased. 

a month into this routine you’ve had enough. you don’t know how long this has been going on for, but you know that you’re ready for it to end. 

“talk to him,” you say to minho before bed as you run your fingers through his hair in what you hope is enough to comfort him. 

“talk to who?” he asks, voice trembling around the edges. he’s playing ignorant, when you know he knows exactly who you’re talking about. 

“he feels the same, you know that?” you keep your voice soft, not wanting to spook him. he spooks easily, like a kitten. “the three of us are already dating each other. it’s just that you two don’t know it yet.”

“what if he says no?” he forces out, avoiding your eyes as he fiddles with his fingers. 

“he won’t. trust me?” you hold out a pinkie and he links his own with it with a slow nod. 

it takes him longer to go to sleep, this time. you can hear his uneven breathing under your head from where it’s pillowed on his chest, and it jumps when he hears his bedroom door creak open. 

seungmin moves to the light and clicks it off, but before he could back away minho’s eyes flutter open and he grabs seungmin’s hand. 

“hyung?” seungmin squeaks out, frightened at being caught for the first time. that he knows of. 

“you came all this way just to turn off a light,” minho starts, words slow and tentative like he’s testing out the flavor of them on his tongue before he speaks them. “might as well stay. there’s room for you, in here.”

not the confession you were hoping for, but you suppose it’ll do, for now. he folds back the blanket a bit, enough to signal the invitation but not enough to be embarrassed about if he was rejected. 

“you want me?” seungmin’s voice is too shocked for how smart he is. why can’t these boys see what’s in front of them?

“get in the bed, seung,” you jump in, not willing to witness the awkward stumbling that those two were about to engage in. you had plenty of time for that tomorrow, in the daylight. “he wants you to.”

so seungmin does. he gets in quietly, and minho wriggles a bit closer to you to make room. despite minho’s claim, it’s a tight fit, but when minho throws and arm around seungmin and pulls him into his chest so that the two of you were mirrored images of one another it works. 

minho’s smile almost outshines seungmin’s, both blinding the room in the kind of light that doesn’t need flame or electricity. 

the next morning, seungmin claims that it was the best sleep he’s had in a while. minho claims that it’s usually a little too cold, and having two personal heaters instead of one was better. you roll your eyes at them, but when they shyly kiss over the kitchen table you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. 

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #soft #lee know fluff #seungmin fluff #2min #lee know imagines #kim seungmin imagines

[gotham-daydreams]

Weird to say, but I think I'm pretty forgiving of Damien. Yeah, he's rude and ignores the reader, but he probably does the same to everyone else lmao. With Dick who pays careful attention to everyone, it's a betrayal that he would neglect the reader because he should have been an older sibling. Plus Damien is like ten, it's kinda hard for me to hold him accountable when he grew up without knowing better and he's just emulating older members of the family. I'm pretty sure this is how youngest sibling privilege works lol

Yeah, I completely agree! Even then, it can be difficult to know that what you're doing is wrong when you see the people you admire and respect doing the same thing.

Like you said, Damian, in reality, is probably rude to everyone else and ignores them from time to time too. Though for the sake of the "Not [ ]" series, he just so happens to ignore the reader a little more when compared to the rest of the Batfam. Which can still be chalked up to him just following the mannerisms of the family without even thinking much about it.

Regardless, neglect is still neglect and what happened to the reader still isn't right- but I do kind of agree with you that Damian probably holds the least amount of capability. He's young, and you can't really expect him to fully be aware of the effects his actions have on other people, especially when that person:

1. Hasn't expressed how negatively the whole situation has effected them, and they don't exactly appreciate their entire existence getting ignored by so many people. (Which is valid and understandable! Because how can you expect someone who's been ignoring you for so long to not only listen to you, but even acknowledge you enough to notice you have something important to say? How can you expect someone so seemingly set on ignoring you, to care? You can't. So the reader stays quiet, but it is something worth pointing out, I feel.)

2. Again, sees that everyone around them pretty much does the same thing. So it's more of a "if they're doing it, it must be for a reason, so I'll do it too" (since Dick and Bruce are also ignoring you, and Damian actually cares about both of them).

Damian is the least aware that what he did was wrong to begin with because no one told it was, and those around him almost seemed to enable that behavior by continuing to do it themself.

I'd like to believe that maybe his behavior would've changed if he knew how badly it was effecting the reader, but that's also to assume that the others wouldn't. Though who knows?

As for everyone else? They're way past old enough to know that what they're doing is wrong. The neglect as a whole was a "team effort", and even if they won't consider it that, it basically was. All of them neglected you except for Alfred, and they all did it over the course of nearly the reader's entire stay at the Manor. If anyone should've known, it should've been them, and depending on your interpretation of the situation and everything - some are more at fault for neglecting the reader when compared to others.

Especially if they seemingly didn't ignore and tried to spend time with/bond with other members of the family, but the reader just didn't make the cut time and time again.

Like you said — Dick is easily one of the worst offenders simply because he's loving and all this stuff to the Batfam, but just not to the reader —and especially when compared to Damian who was just none the wiser for the most part.

#talking daydreams #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #yandere dc #neglected reader #sibling reader

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

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Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

[written-in-flowers]

Carnal Desires (AemondxReader)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader 

Word Count: 5k

Genre: Smut

Summary: You’d been tempting your younger brother for a while, and he has refused every time. But, this time you’ve taken it too far and will get more than you bargained for. 

Tags: Incest (brother/sister), infidelity, slight yandere vibes, possessiveness, obsession, masturbation, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving/giving), spanking, pussy slapping, light dom/sub themes, name calling: slut, whore, slight degradation/slut shaming, fingers in mouth, sloppy blowjobs, breeding kink, breeding, multiple orgasms, deepthroat, nipple/breast play, lots of dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming, bisexual!reader.

*****

You never give up, do you? Aemond thought he’d made himself clear when he told you ‘no’, yet you continued nevertheless. You’d always been persistent. He blamed Aegon for this behavior; he enabled it by letting you run free with whoever you wished as long as a pot of moontea was ready nearby. It was common knowledge in the Red Keep that Princess Y/N had a string of lovers who followed her around. Your charming beauty and promiscuous attitude drew many men to you. Aegon should have stomped out this behavior of yours; it was unbecoming of a princess, and could have disastrous results. He had his fair share of other women as well, which you did not mind either. He understood you’d been betrothed since you were children and married very young. You might have wanted someone else who wasn’t Aegon. He wouldn’t know. Helaena ended up becoming a Septa, so he’d be betrothed to another noblewoman in his future. 

So, he shouldn’t be surprised when he catches you in his bed after training. It was mid-noon, the sun shining through the window near his bed. You were naked, laying on his sheets, with your hand between your legs. He heard your soft moans drift from his bedchamber into the rest of the apartment. You laid on your stomach, one leg higher than the other as you rubbed your sex. If he stood in the right place, he could see your fingers against it. He turned away at the step leading up into the bedroom area of his apartment. Yet, he could hear you still. 

“A-A-Aemond,” he could barely hear you, but your voice carried. “Pl-l-lease.”

It reminded him of the other day. He’d been walking through the castle to see his mother when a slight sound caught his attention from a nearby staircase. Carefully going closer, he caught you and Aegon, pressed against a wall in the very public area. Your dress lifted to your waist, it rested on your arched back as Aegon charged into you. He thought of your lips, parted in every moan and tried your best to stay quiet. Your ass pushing back into Aegon’s hips, the sounds of skin and skin slapping together at the rapid pace, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You slut. You absolute slut. For the briefest of moments, he’d pictured himself in Aegon’s place, giving you all the pleasure he could. He stood in the shadows and watched you both. His cock grew hard watching you be taken right there in the stairwell, where anyone could catch you. He liked being nearby and witnessing such a erotic scene. It’d gotten better when you sunk to your knees and swallowed Aegon’s load like a whore. He bit his lip thinking of what those lips might look like around him. This was why he did not let you near him. Because, once you did…

He’d never stop. He’d become addicted to you, and he knew this. Aemond never dared say it out loud, but ever since that day, he thought about you. He actively sought out private places where he might come upon you and Aegon again. He’d been lucky some days, but you weren’t always with Aegon. He’d cummed the hardest after seeing you with one of the serving girls near the stables at night. The young woman stood against the wall while you licked at her cunt. Then, she returned the favor, sucking on your breasts and fingering your wet pussy. Gods, what he would’ve done if he had you both. 

“Brother…Please…”

He noticed your face buried in his pillows, holding one as you grinded into your hand. How many times have you come here? How many missed chances? Aemond silently walked to the bed. So lost in your euphoria, you didn’t notice him coming towards you. He took off his belt, and untied the flap of his breeches and grabbed hold of himself. Gradually, he stroked himself watching you on his bed. He looked over the curves of your body: your soft thighs and legs parted, your breasts exposed and lips bitten down on as you continued touching yourself. His eyes gazed downward to your bottom, the one he’s seen so many times by now but never touched. He betted you liked it there too, like a common whore in a brothel. He imagined how many times his brother fucked your ass, stretching and filling you while you touched yourself. He pictured it bouncing on him, rippling in every move as you screamed his name. But no, he wanted your cunt. He wanted to hear you squeal and giggle as he teased you; taste your wetness on his tongue and smeared on his mouth and chin. He might not be as obnoxious or boastful like Aegon, but he knew women too. Aemond would be a far better lover for you. You wouldn’t want anyone else when he was done with you.

Because, it was him who studied the carnal pleasures. It was him who’d tamed the largest dragon to gain your attention. He spent his whole youth desiring you. He’d begged his mother to annul your betrothal to Aegon and give you to him. He’d tame you like he tamed Vhagar. He and his cock would straighten you out. Obviously, Aegon isn’t that good if you’re seeking pleasures with other men and women. But, no. His mother refused. He’d marry some other girl from a noble house while lusting after you. 

He bit back a groan as he continued stroking in front of you. Aemond wanted to take it slow, truly enjoy the bliss while observing you. He took slow strokes, thinking of you wrapped around him. The scene changed when you rolled onto your back and smiled up at him. 

He supposed it happened when he’d caught you in the kingswood. His father declared they’d all go on a hunt, making an event out of it for Aegon’s nameday. Aemond didn’t go with them the first day, content to stay with his mother and sisters. But, when you’d scampered off somewhere, young Aemond was tasked with bringing you back. Fourteen-years-old and never having seen a woman naked before, he’d been shocked to find you in a small pond alone. You’d stripped off all your clothes, and dipped into the cool waters. He stayed in the bushes and watched you, admiring your naked body from afar. His first erection. The scene escalated when the person you’d been waiting for-a Lannister boy related to Lord Tyland-arrived. You and the Lannister boy kissed and fondled one another, but nothing else. Aemond wished it’d been him, yet he knew it’d only be a matter of time.

“Enjoying yourself, Brother?” you giggled breathily, still teasing yourself. 

“I…I…Come here.”

He growled as he grabbed your ankle and dragged you over to the edge. You didn’t protest. You didn’t struggle. Instead, you sat up and began undoing his jerkin. His lips found yours, and he groaned into your mouth. Your tongue easily slipped over his, dancing together as you fully undressed him. Once you were both nude, he pushed you onto your back. He didn’t use his cock right away. He used his own fingers instead, which brought on a new wave of pleasure for you. He rolled his fingers over your wet lips and swollen clit, sliding between them and dipping to your entrance every so often. 

“Aemond,” you said his name in a soft sigh, “That feels so-”

“-Hush,” he snapped, slapping your cunt sharply, “You wish to behave like a whore, you’re going to be taken like one.”

“But, Brother, I-”

He smacked your pussy again, which made you tremble, “I said ‘hush’.” He continued teasing your sex, seeing it glisten in the rays of light that hit the bed. He sat on the bed, and brought one leg over his lap. “You’re going to lay here like a good slut and let me punish you for your behavior.”

“Behavior?”

“I see how you carry on with others besides Aegon,” he accused, spreading your lips with his two fingers, and seeing your soaked clit in between. “I see all the people who get to taste and fuck you,” he gave another light slap, “And I’m appalled. It’s not becoming of a princess to parade herself around like a commoner on the Street of Silk,” he slapped your pussy again, more harshly. “You’re a noble lady,” he slapped it, “A woman of high birth,” Again, “And here you are laying in my bed, waiting for me to fuck you. Do you think a woman like you should be behaving like this?”

“No.”

“No, ‘what’, slut?” he spanked it again, knowing how tender and sore it’ll be tomorrow. 

“No, Brother-”

“-Wrong,” he smacked it once more, harder and louder. He landed a few more hits that made you wiggle in his gasp. “Try again.”

“Your Grace!” you cried, “Please, Your Grace!”

“Hm,” he smiled, “So a whore does know her place…” 

He eased the pain with his tongue. You tasted divine. He sucked the juices dripping down your sex and lapped at your clit. You mewled and squirmed around as he flicked his tongue teasingly on you. He’d make you behave. After today, you’ll be his property. Not Aegon’s. Not the realm’s. Not anyone’s except his. He landed a few more smacks to your pussy before rolling you onto your stomach and putting you fully onto his lap. Your ass in front of him, he squeezed and gripped your cheeks before starting to spank you. He started off slow, letting your body get used to his touch before going harder. Occasionally, he stopped to slip a finger into your pussy. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, “Even after all that cock, you’re still tight as a drum.” He continued pumping his fingers as he smacked each cheek. “Serves me much better. I wouldn’t bother if you were loose.”

“Aemond!” you snapped at him, but silenced with another hard smack. 

“You don’t get to say my name,” he said, picking up the pace on his fingers and making you moan louder. “You haven’t earned that yet.” He spat between your cheeks and moved his fingers further up, which made you gasp in shock. “Now, I bet this is extremely tight.” He pushed his fingers around it, but never went inside, “A hole made for pleasuring me instead of you.” 

“Your Gr-rr-race.”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” he spanked you to emphasize this. He went back to spread and spit on your hole. “I can just imagine how good this would feel after a hard day of training. A perfect way to let out all the frustration inside me,” he used his other hand to continue caressing your pussy again. “And this one too. Aegon doesn’t appreciate your pretty holes enough. Not even your sweet mouth.” He stuck the fingers on your bottom into your mouth, and you instantly started sucking them. “I’ve seen him. He just puts you on your knees and goes in. He does nothing to prepare you for him. Well,” he scoffed, “Not as if he has much to prepare. I think that’s why you want me so badly…” he pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth while his other hand fingered you again, “My cock’s bigger, and can go for so much longer. If you were mine, you wouldn’t go to other men. You’d have my cock to pleasure you whenever you liked. In the morning, at noon, at night…whenever your sweet cunt needs to be fucked. Our parents wouldn’t want for grandchildren…I’d fill you with my seed as much as possible. Strange,” he mused, “How you and Aegon have no children, yet hump like rabbits. Why is that, I wonder? Because Aegon would be a worse father than our own? Because you see what a useless sack of shit he is? Where does he put it?”

He removed his fingers long enough to let you answer, “My mouth, Your Grace. My tits or my back or stomach. Wherever he can in the moment.” 

"What a shame," he said, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy once he felt you tightening again, "Looks like I'm going to have to make sure you're full all the time."

He maneuvered you off his lap and onto the bed again. He got a good look at you. You'd been drooling, judging by the string of saliva on your chin, and your shifting body told him how much you needed him. Good. That was how he wanted you. Laying beside you he brought you close and kissed you again. He could get used to kissing you. Even if Aegon is in the room, what was he going to do? Hit him? He scoffed. Aegon stopped coming to training sessions long ago. A fight would be little challenge for him. He tugged on your bottom lip before pulling away. 

"Such an eager slut," he said, kissing down to your breast. He licked at one nipple while his fingers went back inside you. "Are you like this with all your lovers or just me?" 

"Just you, Your Grace."

"Not even Aegon."

"Not even-ah! Aemond!"

He let it slide. He'd just put his thumb to your clit again, and began moving it from side to side. Aemond enjoyed hearing your low moans, and needy whimpers. Your walls tightened around his fingers every time he slid in and out, letting him reach right to the knuckle. He left small bites and hickeys down your side as he went back to eating your clit. His cock hit his stomach from the arousal you brought on. Your hands ended up in his hair, gripping and tugging from the pleasure controlling you. He buried his face further in and growled, and soon you were shaking underneath him. Your grip on his hair became tighter, and your back arched the moment your orgasm came. He groaned, tasting you on his tongue, your cum gushing into his mouth. It'd be the first of many. You rested back, and he smirked. 

"You think we're done here?" He asked, sucking up what leaked out. 

"But I already-"

"-Sit up." He stood from the bed and pulled you in a sitting position. "I'm going to teach you to be a proper lady. Sit up straight, shoulders back…good girl," he said, seeing you follow his instructions, "Open your mouth."

You opened your mouth and he slid inside. "Don't move. Keep your posture. Yes, like that," he groaned as he started at a gentle, slow pace. 

He took hold of your head to keep you from moving, and looked down to see you sitting upright and hands in your lap. He envied his brother or any other man who had you. He pitied them as well. After today, you won't want anyone else. Only him. Your cheeks hollowed when you sucked him firmly, your spit helping him slide in and out easily. He took in the shape of your sweet lips, seeing how they suck him so eagerly. When you moaned, he felt it through the muscle. Aemond continued guiding you over him; pleasure mounted inside him the longer you sucked. He pulled himself out, streams of saliva and precum following, and rubbed it over your tongue. He angled your head so you looked up at him. Your pretty eyes were full of lust and need. They'd gotten slightly teary from the abuse he'd done to your body, yet you did nothing to stop him. He sucked on his fingers for remnants of your juices on them. The thought of having you whenever he pleased made him hungry for more. 

"Go further down. Take more of it," he forced your head closer to his center. He heard you gag, and chuckled, "Don't act like a novice now. I've seen you do this plenty of times. I like watching you." He groaned when he finally hit the back of your throat, "Fuck…I love watching you be fucked…with men…women…my brother. I might watch you two tonight. Would you like that?" He pushed his hips into you to hear you choke on him. "Hm? Me sitting nearby watching you be fucked dumb, then having you to myself afterwards? You and Aegon aren't the only depraved ones in this family." 

"Yes," you coughed when he pulled out, taking heaving breaths. "Yes, Your Grace. I'd like that."

He laughed, "Of course, you would, you fucking slut." 

He took a deep plunge into your throat, then stopped. He tossed you back onto the bed, climbing on to follow you and forced your legs apart. You seemed to think he'd finally enter you. He snorted. He grabbed his shaft and dragged his tip over your sex again. He continuously did this simply to see you cry from the pleasure. He spat right onto where you both met, then kept going. 

"Your Grace," you whined, "I need it. I need it so badly. Please, Your Grace. Please, let me have it."

"Hmmm, should I?" He smirked, continuing to slide his shaft over it. "I quite enjoy making you beg." 

"Please!"

He held back his own pleasure to slap your clit with his cock, the slight tingle going through you. He listened to you whimper, watched you claw at the headboard above you, and relished in your pain. When he saw you about to play with your breasts, he immediately smacked it away. Then, he laid on top of you, cupping them both and started to suck on them while he grinded into you. He remembered every time you flaunted them in front of him. Strategically bending forward at dinner tables, or standing close he could see down your dress. You shuddered underneath him; your hips pushed up into his to grind against his cock. He let you have that one pleasure. His tongue flicked over your nipples, sucking and biting gently. His cock grew harder sliding against your pussy, rutting like a desperate man; you cleverly tried angling yourself so he might slip inside, but only pressed on his tip. 

"Fuck me," you cried to him. "Please?"

Sheathed fully inside you, he went back to your chest. He gave small strokes along with licking your nipples slowly. He felt your pussy clenching and unclenching around him, which caused him to moan on your skin. Aemond pinched one nipple as he sucked on the other; then changed sides. He could lay there all day admiring your breasts; the soft supple mounds he often pictured late at night. He thrusted into you hard a few times to watch them bounce from the force. Soon, you gathered what he wanted, and made them move on your own. He stuck out his tongue to let them brush over it; he moaned when you lifted one side to his mouth where he sucked gently. He’d make you cum just like this. He cupped, pinched, kissed and sucked on them while you attempted to bounce on his cock. 

Aemond lifted your thighs and shoved himself deep into you; the both of you finally finding relief. Keeping you still, Aemond began a gradual pace despite the urgency coursing inside him. He needed the release. He felt it tightening in his balls, and wanting to shoot out, but he kept a hold on it. He’d practiced this just for you. He knew the day he fucked you, he’d hold himself back as much as possible. Aegon couldn’t possibly last. He looked down to see his cock, red and hard, parting your lips and intruding. Truthfully, you felt better than he could’ve hoped for; your tight pussy made him want to lose control, and fully ravage you. Yet, he kept himself composed, and kept it slow. He groaned when he pulled back and saw his member glistening from your wetness. He withdrew to rub himself over your clit again before going back in. You whimpered in frustration, rocking your hips and moving them to meet his cock. He chuckled again. He continued the action to watch you suffer longer at the expense of his own pain. 

“Aemond, Aemond,” you breathed as your next climax approached, “I’m…I’m…”

“I know, pet,” he muttered, “You can.”

You struggled to let your orgasm out, your moans coming out in cracked sounds as your body tightened again. It inflated his ego certainly. Your cum wetting his cock, he moved faster to ride out the rest of your climax. He paused only to keep himself from finishing with you, taking deep breaths and squeezing his eyes shut to force it back. He heard you giggle. 

“Doesn’t my prince want to cum?” you teased, rubbing yourself in front of him and trembling. “Don’t you want to see what it looks like with your cum dripping from it?”

“I do,” he assured you, kissing your lips lightly, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

You laughed, “You’re worse than Aegon.”

“You have no idea.”

Taking hold of you, he rolled onto his back and settled himself underneath you. You gasped at the feeling of being impaled on him. Aemond started with a few encouraging thrusts upwards before you began moving by yourself. Eyes closed, head tossed back, you held onto his torso as your lower half began sliding up and down on him. Your recent orgasms made your clitoris very sensitive; a fact he took joy in abusing as he reached down to rub it with his thumb. No doubt little sparks of pain followed, though were drowned out by the angle you rode him at. He panted and moaned as your body continued torturing him. It was his now. After today, he’d own your gorgeous body, and perhaps one day your heart too. Aegon didn’t deserve you. Nobody else did. He sat up from his position, cradling you in his lap, as he went back to sucking on your breasts and fondling your bottom. 

“Are you going to fuck me there too?” you asked shakily, arms around his neck. 

“Do you wish for me to?” he replied, squeezing your ass and guiding you on him. 

“I…I…Nobody’s ever…” 

“Not even Aegon, the pervert that he is?” 

You went faster, your bodies crashing together as much as they could before he laid back down to bring you with him. He started swatting at your buttocks again, seeing your eyes widen for a moment when he began. He knew you liked that. 

You shook your head. “So, I’d be the first then?” The idea intrigued him, “I like the sound of that. I like the sound of that very, very much.”

“Please, Aemond,” you whined, bouncing along his cock so your tits followed, “Please, play with it.”

He grinned, grunting as he spread your cheeks apart and gripping them tightly. Spitting on his hand, he placed his fingertips between them as much as he could. You accommodated him by leaning forward more, which put your breasts back in his face, and squeaked when you felt his fingers. He sensed your tiredness coming on, so he let you rest against him while he bucked up into you and rubbed your hole. His pretty sister. His pretty plaything. He felt the sweat slicking your bodies, and knew you must be tired. It was a feeling you’d get used to eventually. You came alive again when he slid a finger into your ass. He’d do a finger for now. His cock wanted your pussy. It ached and throbbed inside you. 

“Like this?” he asked you softly, kissing your forehead comfortingly. 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded. “But, I want your cum. I want it so much.”

“Do you?” he held you close, finger and cock both inside you, and went faster. “I’m not our brother. I will cum inside you.” 

The thought of you pregnant, round and swelling throughout the months because of him, and finally birthing a child for him sounded nice. Perhaps a bastard child might cause Aegon to cast you aside, and he can have you…physically, spiritually, and legally. 

“Inside, please.”

“How does it feel?” he panted, kissing your shoulder as he rested on top of you. 

He stopped his fingering and put you onto your stomach with a bit of shifting. On your stomach, arms around a pillow like before, face buried into the soft sheets, he mounted you once more and plunged into your pussy again. It did not take long for him to finally give in to you. Your body quaked, and you lost complete control of yourself. He watched you push back hard so he never fully pulled out. Your submission caused him to let go of the hold he’d kept on himself. He slipped his finger back into your ass, making you unravel immediately as he pounded you. He came right behind you, the powerful climax making his eyes squeeze tight and jaws fall in every moan. His entire body seized up and he felt his cum shoot inside you, adding to the obscene sounds already in the air. It was a pleasure he never wanted to end. He thought he could go on even longer; make love to you all day until he pumped out smoke. Aemond kept going until he’d completely drained himself, yet did not pull out of you. 

“So good,” you replied, satisfied and tired. “Don’t pull out just yet,” you intertwined his fingers with yours, “Stay inside me.”

“As you wish, pet.” 

You both laid on your sides, positioned so his cock never slipped out, and rested against each other. Having you curled up next to him, holding his hand, gave him a sense of triumph. He’d finally gotten the woman he’d desired for so long; the pretty flower he’d coveted over everything else. Taking in your scent, basking in your warmth despite the sweat gleaming on both your bodies, he knew he’d never let you go. Odds are Aegon won’t even mind. He didn’t care that you went with other men from time to time, why would he care if it was Aemond? He thought about the semen inside you, and what potential results it might have. You should drink tansy tea, and hope nothing came from it, but he disagreed. He put his hand over your stomach, already envisioning it full with a child, and smiled. A child made from each of you; a gorgeous boy or girl with silver hair and violet eyes. Nobody could say the child isn’t Aegon’s. Everyone knew you two coupled often. His mother worried you might be barren, but he knew the truth. Kissing your neck, he lets you drift to sleep in his arms even if it is the middle of the day. 

Maybe she’ll figure out the truth, and to avoid scandal, will have you and Aegon annulled. To have you this way every night sounded like a dream. 

****

You kept what happened between you and Aemond a secret, which he did not mind. Yet, you still did not let him forget what you’d done. You’d taken to leaving him notes on where you and Aegon or another lover planned to meet. He’d hide in a corner or behind a wall and observe you in coitus with another person. You never knew if he was truly there, but the thought alone aroused you. He particularly liked it when you had your handmaiden, a lovely girl who sounded delightful when she came. On the nights you slept with Aegon, he’d creep in through the secret panel in your apartment and hide behind the divider. Through the holes, he watched his brother make feeble attempts to pleasure you. You never appeared as interested anymore; you merely let him have you out of marital duty. It was him you desired now. Envy sometimes caused him to snap or summon you to his chambers simply to have you for a night. You became so special to him. You always have been.

“Aemond, I’m pregnant.”

Three words he’d longed to hear from you. You both had finished a late-night session in his bed chamber, laying on the fur carpet in front of his fireplace completely naked when you said it. 

“We only just finished,” he chuckled, pushing hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“No, from last time,” you told him, resting yourself against him. “I haven’t bled for two months now. The Maester confirmed it this morning.” You smiled softly, “And it’s yours.”

He beamed, laughing softly and kissing you deeply. “Are you certain?”

“Aegon hasn’t touched me in weeks. Ever since he found out about us, he said he isn’t interested in his little brother’s leftovers,” you said. “He’ll tell Mother.” He heard the worry in your voice, and he took your hand in his, “He’ll tell her and she’ll scorn me for it. She’ll tell me that I deserve it, and that I’d have to get rid of it when it’s born. I don’t want to-”

“-You won’t,” he affirmed, kissing your knuckles. “Not after I’ve told her it’s mine.”

“What?! You can’t tell her! You can’t!”

“I will,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “You’ve had no children with Aegon. This could bring about the possibility that he’s unable to give you children, and in that possibility, your marriage can be annulled. You and I, sweetling,” he kissed your forehead, “Will be wed before anyone suspects a thing.” 

“Wed? To you?”

“Yes, to me,” he smiled, amused by your surprise. “I’ve wanted you since I was a boy…ever since I saw you sucking off that Lannister boy by the pond. I’ve spilled my seed in you nearly every day since you willingly-willingly, Sister-came into my chambers. You’re mine,” he growled lowly in your ear, his hand trailing down your back, “And when I convince Mother that your child is mine, she’ll let me have you.”

“Aemond, I-”

“-Hush, pet,” he cut you off, “I’ll take care of everything. You focus on having a healthy pregnancy.” He looked over your face, “I hope it’s a girl…a girl as beautiful as her mother.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. He knew you loved him too; you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Aemond could make his mother see reason; he’s her favorite out of all the children and there’s nothing she’d deny him after he lost his eye. He pictured your wedding day and the heated wedding night, where he’d pleasure you even if you were pregnant. Aemond slowly drifted to sleep, his head full of dreams of you and him. 

Dreams of owning you. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x yn #house of the dragon #hotd drabble #hotd imagines #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell

[retrieve-the-kraken]

I don’t know if someone has already said this, but to me sending Wilhelm to Hillerska was never about him adopting the right routines or learning responsibilities. And it wasn’t, like the Queen said, about keeping him from scandalous situations or making sure that they don’t arise. Sure, maybe it was a part of it, but not the only reason. Ultimately, it was about keeping Wilhelm a secret.

Tucked away in the middle of nowhere in a boarding school where the press can’t catch a whiff of anything, and it can’t damage the image of the monarchy. What happens in Hillerska stays in Hillerska, and the Queen knows this very well, having attended there. She talks about going to wild parties at the Palace and being aware of the culture of drinking and drugs and sex and partying, because it’s encouraged. It is an environment that fosters secrecy, that enables bad behavior and keeping it under wraps, it is part of the code, both the Royal code and the Hillerska code.

So Wilhelm could do whatever he wanted over there, he could be as wild as he had been before, he could do anything, hook up with anyone, the important thing was that it would stay out of the news, out of the public eye.

Except that it didn’t.

(It was a particularly big deal that the video, “the truth”, was revealed by August, one of the strongest advocates for the secrecy code, the one that claims that they could kill someone and get away with it… so for him to break the code of secrecy is brutal… but it’s worth pointing out that he only did it after Wilhelm broke the code himself, when he revealed in front of the members of the secret Society that August had financial problems. An eye for an eye…)

So maybe the whole commotion regarding the video being public wasn’t so much about Wilhelm being queer, although it probably was in part, but mostly it was about him being queer on a video spread all over the internet. It was about how public it got, how very un-secret it became.

And the only way that the Royal Court resolves to fix this secret coming out is to cover it with more lies. The show itself opens with a lie, when Wilhelm has to give a statement saying that he’s willingly going to Hillerska, and the season ends with him lying about being in the video, hiding his own identity, having to pretend that August wasn’t behind everything, and having to hide his relationship with Simon. Then season 2 is about him dealing with the aftermath of all of that, with complying with the secrecy, being offered new ways to stay secret (Nils and his invitation to Verbier, to hook up with men that will be discreet, etc).

Wilhelm is never really okay with secrecy, he is an advocate for privacy. He doesn’t want to say anything but he doesn’t want to hide either. He is not ashamed of his sexuality, but he is worried about how it reflects on the monarchy, on his family, his brother, and he is stressed about having to maintain appearances, having to hide his anxiety, having to be a public figure, having to be basically perfect, or at least perceived as perfect.

Wilhelm is very aware and a victim of the toxic masculinity around him, and it makes me wonder where he gets it from: from little things like when he looks annoyed when August talks about getting with Felice before she develops self-esteem (to which, to my dismay, Erik did laugh) or being affectionate with his brother or being a perfect gentleman when Felice kissed him and when she apologized for kissing him, to bigger things like being close friends with Felice and refusing to participate in “on the table” and of course, revealing his relationship with Simon on national television.

(Wilhelm does, unfortunately, play into the toxic masculinity a lot this season, because that is what often happens in toxic environments, in masculine competitive culture. You have to “play the game” if you want to survive, and Wilhelm sees that the only way to get revenge on August is to play the same game: playing with power, taking away power, being dominant when he wants to get into the party and when he dismantles the seniority hierarchy in the dining hall, when he challenges August knowing that he has him “by the balls”, cheating during training, lying to Alexander… and ultimately pointing a gun at August. All of these things are enabled by the environment of Hillerska, and they work for a while, but they definitely don’t work with Simon. What ultimately helps Wilhelm get Simon back is showing all the non-toxic qualities that he already possessed: being kind, being honest, owning up to his mistakes, being patient, giving him space, letting him go, even if it hurts like hell… It’s obvious that Wilhelm is not perfect, but fortunately Wilhelm never aims for perfect, he aims for good.)

(It’s worth mentioning that, as a monarch and as a former student of Hillerska, Kristina was probably a victim and a perpetrator of the same toxic masculinity, competitive culture, because as a woman in a male dominated world, she probably also felt that she had to play the game. She continues to enable this culture by maintaining the secrecy code, to her own detriment and the detriment of her son, but she probably knows no other way. But we’ve already talked at length about this. EDIT: I forgot to add that I think that’s part of the reason why she looks so disconcerted and tense when Wilhelm says what he says during his speech, because she’s scared, because she’s aware that it’s a toxic man’s world out there, and it’s particularly harsh and toxic for anyone who doesn’t fit into the masculinity role, that means women like her, queers like Wilhelm, and minorities like Simon… )

Simon also likes his privacy, he doesn’t need to be public with Wilhelm, until the whole thing comes out, and Wilhelm is forced to lie. Then of course he feels awful, like he’s some dirty little secret. He doesn’t understand that that’s just how Hillerska works, how the monarchy works, that is the secrecy code, and he doesn’t understand the pressure that Wilhelm is under to continue to uphold that code. That is until he has a secret of his own to hide, the drugs he stole from his father, and that he has to protect himself and his family. When he finally understands that the secrecy is a monster that he will never defeat, he realizes that maybe it’s not worth fighting it anymore, the important thing is to be with Wilhelm, to be able to love him, no matter what, even if it has to be in secret. As long as there are no more secrets between them.

And that’s when it hits Wilhelm. The moment that Simon tells him that he’s okay with being a secret, is the moment that Wilhelm realizes that he is not okay with that, that he doesn’t want any more secrets at all. He realizes that he will always be trapped in one lie after the other, always be a victim of the secrecy code, unless he puts a stop to it.

So he tells the truth. The ultimate truth. “It was me in the video. Me and Simon. I lied because it was private. But it’s me.” In one single moment the video goes from a raunchy sex tape to a horrible violation of privacy, he condemns the “unknown” perpetrator of this violation, he makes it seem that it was his choice to lie and absolves the Monarchy from having forced him to lie, he advocates for privacy, he regains control of the narrative for himself and for Simon, he condemns secrecy, and he sets himself free.

The truth will always set you free.

Or at least we hope.

#young royals #young royals analysis #young royals thoughts #young royals s2 spoilers #young royals season 2 #yr s2 spoilers #prince wilhelm

[cyjammy]

Angel’s Early Struggle

Can we talk about Angel being bothered by Sir Pentious being praised by Charlie? Because I don't think that's been talked about enough if at all.

Angel up to this point and well past episode two puts up a front. His persona empowers him, gives him a shield against his abuser, critics and even himself. Angel's self-imposed egocentrism gives him the opportunity to gain attention whether that be positive or negative. He wants to play the part of a self-assured, overly-sexual porn star because he knows that's how he has to be.

All of this we know already after episode four.

This skepticism and refusal to change is a byproduct of his negative self-image caused by his circumstances. Valentino has ruined Angel up to this point. He allows Angel to continue his self-destructive tendencies and isolated him to the point where his only friend was Cherri Bomb - someone who also enables him. Valentino does this all for his own benefit. Angel is a toy to him - one that makes him money. To Valentino, his feelings are non-existent, what matters is what he can get out of him, how much use Angel is to him.

Whether that be through physicality or being an entertaining plaything, Valentino doesn't care.

When Angel uses his persona, that pleases the person he spends the most time around. Valentino considers him worthy of the little bit of praise he will give before taking it away at the first opportunity. The inconsistent treatment Angel receives from Valentino is traumatic in itself, couple that with sexual and physical abuse and Angel is barely hanging on. Nobody can remain sane from that without having some way to cope.

After all of that mistreatment that solidified Angel's thought process, his fears and insecurities, he finds someone else who gives him attention with zero strings attached through Charlie. Angel is obviously skeptical at first, considering the things Valentino did to him. He knows Hell is unforgiving, that he had already made a mistake trusting a ruthless overlord, so it was a no brainer that he wouldn't trust Charlie, at least not right away.

So Angel emulates Valentino's behavior, he uses Charlie for a free place to stay with minimal intentions of trying to be redeemed. At any opportunity where Charlie doesn't have Angel under watch, he took the chance to do drugs, start fights, and simply revert back to the way he was when he was on his own. Angel does show some kind of remorse, unlike Valentino, before reigning himself back in to pretend he doesn't care.

Even in the pilot you could see the beginnings of character development in Angel. Not everything was as it seemed.

At this point, Angel has no reason to stop this behavior. This is Angel's rationalization: It's Hell, nobody else is going to try Charlie's plan, redemption doesn't exist, why try?

In this endeavor, Angel can't be considered a failure or disappointment. There aren't grave actions for falling short in the Hotel like there would be if he failed Valentino. There is no threat of physical harm, verbal or emotional abuse and manipulation. He may get yelled at by Vaggie and Charlie, but he had just met them, he doesn't care about their opinions or feelings to the point that it would viscerally affect him.

However, Charlie did whittle him down by being genuine. She cares for the hotel’s patrons and her plan for redemption. Charlie stays consistent in a way that Valentino doesn’t.

After a long night of filming, Angel gets to return to the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie are there and Angel stays unbelieving of her plans for redemption. After Alastor joins, Angel also has Nifty and Husk.

He doesn’t have to stew in his misery within the same vicinity as his abuser. He gets to have a distraction and a support system no matter how dysfunctional they may seem.

When Sir Pentious joins the hotel as a spy for the Vees, Angel has to compete for attention where he never had to. Sir Pentious is the patron of Charlie’s dreams. He appeals to her notion of instant conversion by obediently following her orders no matter how nonsensical or small.

Angel continues to put up the same front since it hasn't stopped working for him before. Charlie starts a group activity, Sir Pentious succeeds, and Angel says it's stupid.

Charlie has them act out a scene, Angel is critical of it and Sir Pentious plays the part perfectly.

Charlie freely gives him praise.

Angel has never received praise from Charlie up to this point. At least, nothing direct. Charlie would placate him, use language that wasn't insulting, but those comments weren't compliments.

They were meant to redirect, produce a productive conversation and ultimately help Charlie achieve her goal. She never checked in on Angel's well-being. With everything going on, she was so concerned with her plan that she didn't focus on anything else.

Angel doesn't make an event out of it. He states that he's leaving and when the attention is off him he doesn't try to bring it back.

There is simply defeat.

Angel doesn't process these feelings well. He momentarily considers the hotel just as bad as any place in Hell. He considers returning to Valentino. At least in the studio he's the center of attention, he is good at what he does. There is no need to think of ways to be better or earn redemption, he can be a degenerate and a sleazeball all he wants.

While he is certainly being used at least he is of use. He has a purpose and he isn't disregarded because he doesn't measure up. Angel has his part and he plays it well.

So there is that choice to return back to the studio until he is snapped out of his stupor by remembering his reality. There were good moments with Valentino, but those would never outweigh the bad and the downright horrible. The voicemails Valentino left him highlighted that too well.

Angel had no choice but to stay.

But where did that leave him? He felt like a disappointment. Charlie wouldn't see someone as broken as him worthy for redemption. Sir Pentious had that role and he was better in that department. Angel firmly believed that he couldn't change.

Valentino's hold on him remained strong in the earlier months of his departure. Angel struggled with this mindset of self-destruction. He continued to ruin opportunities for himself, but it was so deeply ingrained in him he couldn't stop himself.

So, he goes to cope. He wants to drown his misery away.

And through that he discovers Sir Pentious's true intentions. He wasn't this perfect patron taking Charlie's attention. Angel's skepticism was justified. He didn't have to be perfect nor did he have to try because Sir Pentious was in the same boat as him.

He prioritized his interests over redemption.

And I wish we could have seen the change with a few more episodes because there is no way this distrust faded in a day.

Knowing that there were months of development in between these moments clears up a few things, but it wasn't on screen so we're left to speculate.

Now, instead of being spiteful, Angel is back to acting as he would with anyone in the Hotel. Sir Pentious has been brought down off his pedestal, he didn't have pure intentions, his dreams of becoming a powerful overlord were crushed and he was cluelessly following an untested path to redemption because he had nowhere else to go.

Angel's attitude persists until Loser, Baby. This is the second moment where he realizes that Hell is shit and nobody is better than anyone, especially if they ended up here. Husk is there for Anthony, a guy who isn't putting on a front and just made a few shit decisions.

As the months go on and Angel only has to interact with Valentino in a business capacity, he gains confidence. There's a system in place that's benefitting him, he has friends and a reason for being.

He even goes as far as to defend his new friends - his faux family - against the biggest threat to his wellbeing.

He has hope for the future and I love that all of it was revealed in Season 1. All you have to do is pay attention.

#hazbin hotel #contextualizing #I just wanted to talk about Angel a little more #angel dust #valentino #charlie morningstar #sir Pentious #episode 2 #I love this show #in case you couldn't already tell #character study

[allaboutthemoonlight]

How to Develop the Habits You Want and Stick to Them ✨

I recently listened to a podcast discussing developing the habits you want and ensure they stick. As someone who’s been recently struggling with consistent habit adherence, I wanted to share some of the insights I gathered and talk about what’s been helping me lately.

The Importance of a Goal vs a System:

In a world where goals are often the big picture, it's crucial to recognize the transformative potential of systems. Scott Adams once said, "If you do something every day, it’s a system. If you're waiting to achieve it someday in the future, it's a goal."

Goals are outcomes, systems are the daily habits that lead to that.

Systems enable longevity and continuity, while goals are only momentary. Changing your behavior and integrating systems into your leds to continual progress and applicable results.

When you have a goal or habit in mind, develop a system around it so you can continuously work towards it.

For example, if your goal was to lose 20 pounds in 3 months, the system would be implementing a daily exercise routine and adopting healthier eating habits.

The system, unlike the goal, can be maintained and adjusted over time, leading to long-term progress and success.

Constantly Ask Yourself These Questions:

What kind of days do I want to live?

This prompts you to reflect on your ideal lifestyle and the type of experiences you want to have on a daily basis. It helps you set intentions for how you want to spend your time and what activities or pursuits bring you fulfillment.

2. How do I want to show up in the world?

This encourages self-awareness and introspection about your values, character, and the impression you want to leave on others. It allows you to consider how you want to behave, interact with others, and contribute to the world around you.

3. Am I living by my values and beliefs?

This gives you the opportunity to evaluate whether your actions align with your core values and beliefs. If they don’t, something needs to change. Really take the time to think about the choices you make and whether they are in accordance with what truly matters to you.

I like to do a weekly review every Sunday where I look back on my week and see what I’ve accomplished, where I could improve, celebrate my wins, etc. Every quarter or so, I’ll ask myself these three questions and reflect on my life.

Mirror Your Environment To Enable The Habits You Want To Develop

Your environment aids in the habits that you currently have or want to acquire. You need to change your environment to either break a bad habit or acquire a n

Make the habits you want to stick obvious enough so that there’s no friction in the transition process.

For example, if you want to start reading more books, you would start by placing a bookshelf in a prominent area of your home or room. This makes the habit of reading more obvious since the books are easily accessible, allowing you to pick one up whenever you have free time.

Surround Yourself With People That Also Take Part In The Habits You Desire

Being around like-minded individuals provides a support system and accountability network.

When you see others consistently practicing the habits you want to have, it can inspire and motivate you to stay committed.

Being part of a community that values the same habits creates an encouraging environment and helps you to solidify these aspiring habits as integral parts of your routine.

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Developing the habits you desire is not just about setting goals but also about creating systems, aligning with your values, and leveraging your environment and social circle. Continue to focus on the systems in your life over goals, asking reflective questions, and surrounding yourself with supportive individuals.

—Luna <3

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#self improvement #self love #growth #productivity #habits #self care #self development #good habits #that girl #itgirl #leveling up #level up #motivation #positive mindset #empowerment