#so to be this young and to think about the people I know who didn't get to even make it to 21?? 28??

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story

Okay, say it with me: FOIL!

You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.

Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.

Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.

This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.

Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...

We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:

His wife is no longer alive.

He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.

He is divorced.

So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉

From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?

Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.

If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌

Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:

The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).

Other things to consider...

How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?

My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).

It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.

The Garden

I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?

Do you recognize this guy?

That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?

And also the way this is phrased:

Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔

In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.

The Consequences of War

This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.

No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.

My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.

#spy x family #twiyor #sxf #spy x family manga #spy x family analysis #spy x family theory #sxf chapter 97 #spy x family chapter 97 #martha marriott #henry henderson #loid forger #yor forger #spy x family meta

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile VII

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: 4913 words... I don't know what happened. I'm so tired, it's 1 am but who cares, I needed to drop the new chapters. I really hope you'll enjoy it dears ! Tell me what you think of it! Because I'm dead tired there might have more mistake than usual, I'll check it out tomorrow.

“ And then I kind of kissed him through the blanket.”

You stared as Alice squealed with delight, bouncing on her seat in front of you. You were in your living room,sitting on your sofa, your Mother was out which made you alone with your friend. You just finished telling her what happened two days ago and she seemed delighted while you were… confused. At that moment you didn’t even think, you just… went for the kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss, your lips didn’t touch! You just felt the blanket!

“ And then ? And then ? Don’t leave me hanging, tell me what happened next!” begged Alice while she was squeezing a cushion against her chest. You turned your head toward the chimney’s fire. You were the 20th of December. Christmas was around the corner and then Alastor’s birthday…And you still didn’t have any ideas for a present ! You sighed, you were losing against the clock… “ Hey, are you doing alright ?”

“ Oh, sorry Alice, nothing happened after. He… reassured me and then he went home. But the problem right now is that I don’t have his Chrismas’s present… I don’t even have his birthday’s present!”

“ He was born on the first of January, right ?” You nodded and she tilted her head backward, thinking about a present for your friend. You almost scoffed, you trusted her but if YOU couldn’t find a present for Alastor, how could she do it? “ Hey, before I forget, I asked my parents if I could celebrate Chrismas’s Eve with friends and they said yes!” she clapped her hands together. “ You should come, and bring Alastor with you !”

Going to a soirée with Alastor..? You looked at Alice. She was indeed the daughter of a rich family but she wasn’t like those pompous people who thought they were better than anyone. She was open minded. She made friends with everyone, white people, coloured people, everyone.. And you were surprised her parents were okay with it. Maybe they weren’t closed minded people?

You kind of wanted to see Alastor in this kind of environment, you have never seen him all dressed up since you were kids. It could be fun ! But would he agree ? You could almost hear his voice saying he didn’t want to leave his Mother alone for Chrismas’s Eve.. You didn’t want to leave your mother alone either– Wait, that was it! You would invite Marie to pass Chrismas’s Eve with your Mother and you and Alastor would go to Alice’s soirée and then celebrated Christmas in your own house with Alastor and her mother!  

“ From your smile, I guess it is a yes?” asked Alice with a grin. You winked at her before standing up.

“ It’s a maybe… I don’t know if Alastor would want to come.”

“Mhn.. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him that John will be there.” she said with a teasing expression, like she knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious.

“ Alice… Did you talk with Alastor when he walked you home?”

“ Oh! Actually yes, he is the one who began to talk. He asked about our relationship, he seemed very protective of you, it was cute!” she beamed as she giggled. You blushed, looking away. “ But you think he would not like a party?  He seemed like he would be the star of the soirée!”

You did know that. Alastor has something that made people want to approach him. He was almost seventeen but he already had so much charisma, he was a proper gentleman. You weren’t blind, you could see more and more young ladies turn their eyes on him when you were walking outside. You wondered if he was aware of it? If he was, he never made a deal of it, he would just smile back at them if they happened to catch his eyes. 

You wondered how ladies would try to approach Alastor. You’ve known him for eight years, so you weren’t impressed by him anymore, if you wanted you would just jump on his back because you were tired and he would carry you home just like. No questions asked. You smiled without noticing, people might have found Alastor difficult to approached but for you, it was as easy as breathing.

You kind of wanted to see people trying to approach Alastor now…

“ Well, I just have to convince Alastor.”

~~

“ I’ll be delighted!”

You blinked, turning your head toward him. He was laying on the tree’s foot, seeming to be reading a book as you were sitting on the swing. It was snowing today, but you both decided to stay outside for a change. The forest was pretty hidden under a white blanket.

You went to Alastor’s house after parting ways with Alice. You did pay attention to the people around, but you didn’t see any man that would be stalking you. You were sure, if there was a stalker, that he would stalk Alice, not you. But Alastor has made you promise that you would pay attention so…

“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really seemed excited about it! 

“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. He tilted his head and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw a few leaves and snow on his hair. You sat next to him and began to take the leaves out of his hair. In two seconds, Alastor was laying back down on the grass but this time his head was on your thighs. He took his book back and continued his reading as you stroked his hair, looking at the sky.

What kind of dress would you wear? You never went to a soirée before, you needed to look your best, you wanted to impress Alastor. You’ve never really put too much thought into what you wore, you’ll have to ask Alice for advice… You wondered how Alastor was going to show up..

“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?” you looked at him, still playing with his hair, how could his hair be so soft to the touch? He didn’t move his gaze from the book, answering you with a teasing smile.

“ Why? ”

“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ and you didn’t want Alastor to be ashamed of you because of your poor choice of outfit. He stayed silent for a minute and then tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze.

“ Red suits you.” 

You stared in his eyes, the sun made them look almost caramel like. He was so lucky to be this handsome, really ,and he wasn’t even a full grown man yet. You pouted, looking away. How unfair.

“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?” 

“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.”

You looked at him and couldn’t help the smile sketching your lips. Well, if that’s what he wanted. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass. 

“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You chuckled at his reaction, you knew that Alastor was an amazing dancer, you just wanted to hear him laugh… 

“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back.

“ And I’ll make it so you wouldn’t ever consider another partner!” he took your hand in his with a soft smile, caressing your skin. You looked up as you heard someone coming and your eyes met Marie’s. She smiled softly at you, saying it was time for you to go home, she didn’t like you going home at night and didn't want you to catch a cold.

Alastor stood up, before taking his book. You stood up with his help, said goodbye to Marie’s and went back home with Alastor. Since the “stalker” evenement, he didn’t want you to walk home alone. You rolled your eyes at him but at least you could stay with Alastor a little while longer, so it was worth it. You walked together on the road of New Orleans, watching at the shop vitrines if it could give you some ideas for Alastor’s gift.

“ Hey, Alasto-”

You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. You let him take control of your body, letting him make you dance as he wished. Not too long after he made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile.

“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

You smiled at him as he straightened you before offering his arm to you. You took it, as you kept walking toward your home and of course, as always, he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You stared at him until you couldn’t see him anymore and then you decided to enter your home.

“ Mom~ What would you think about celebrating Christmas’ Eve with Marie~?”

~~~

“ This is a disaster Alice !” 

You fell on your bed,head in your pillow ready to scream bloody murder. You haven’t found a single red dress that suited you. You hated every single dress you had tried ! And Alice’s soirée was tomorrow night ! You didn’t know what to do with your hair, with your makeup and you still didn’t have anything to wear ! 

“ I see… Well, it seems like it’s my time to shine ! Look what I’ve got you !” She took a bag from behind her and put it in front of your bed. You lifted your head from your pillow and opened the bag. Your eyes opened as you saw a beautiful black and red flapper dress. Your eyes were wide open, you’ve only seen this kind of dress with the riches folks. You stared at Alice, your mouth wide open without being able to put words together. “ I know you will look delicious like this, come on, try it on so we can find makeup and hairstyle to go with it!”

“ We can see my legs !”

“ We’ll wear stockings, don’t worry ! It’s almost 1920’s, come on!”

“ We’ll be in 1917 next month!”

“ That’s what I said, come on now!”

You undressed yourself before looking at the dress. It was very pretty and it was shining with so many sparkles… You dressed up and put on some heels and then you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked… like a woman. You really liked the dress… you moved around a bit, it was comfortable, you feel like you could dance with it! You could feel the flapper moving against your thighs with each movement. You blushed a little and looked at Alice who was staring at you with stars in her eyes.

“ Ooh, yes! You’ll look perfect ! Don’t worry, I’ll have some similar dress, you’ll not feel left out! Now, the makeup and the hairstyle my friend~.”

Oh dear.

~~~

It was the day. You were in front of your mirror. You were wearing your dress, your black heels, you had put a red lipstick on your lips and a bit of mascara. You were so nervous. What if Alastor found you absolutely ridiculous ? Oh you couldn’t live with the humiliation. You heard your door open and turned around to see your mother, staring at you with teary eyes.

“ Oh sweetheart, you look… Breathtaking, your father would be crying…” She went into your bedroom and hugged you which you immediately reciprocated. 

“ I don’t look stupid ?”

“ Baby, no. You look like a grown woman! Oh, how time flies…you're already sixteen...” she smiled before you heard someone ringing at your door making you tense. It was Alastor, you were sure of it. Your Mother smiled at you before winking and then she left you bedroom, going downstairs so she could open the door. You tried to hear what they were saying but you couldn’t hear anything…

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror.

“ Come on girl. You’re going to an amazing soirée and you’ll enjoy every single second of it, okay?” you nodded at your reflection. Great.

You sighed and then left your bedroom. You took a deep breath and then began to walk down the stairs, your heels making noises against the wooden stairs. You heard Alastor and Marie’s voice getting closer. You saw your mother at the bottom of the stairs with an encouraging smile. 

“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”

You heard his shoes before finally seeing him.

Oh.

He was beautiful.

His dark hair was slicked back, he didn’t have his glasses on, he was wearing a dark redded suit and he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He was staring at you, his eyes wide open. You both stood there, without talking or doing anything else. You took a shaky breath before walking down the stairs until you were in front of him, thanks to your heels you were face to face with him. He was still staring at you with a straining smile. Did he find you ridiculous, did you try too hard? You kissed him softly on both cheeks and you heard him gulp. What was happening to him?

“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.

You felt his hand on your face, raising your chin up so he could meet your gaze. His smile was softer and his eyes still had this intense glint that made you relax.

“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You grinned as you stared at the beautiful flowers in front of you and then you looked at Alastor’s eyes. He didn’t even once let his gaze move away from you, it made you feel warm. You smiled brightly as your mother took the flowers from you, putting it in a vase. 

“ You both are so beautiful, but leaving before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one. 

“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. You were still feeling nervous but Alastor by your side, it was getting easier to just be excited about this party. You felt Alastor grip your arm tighter as you walked into a busy road. You tried not to bump into people, and after a thirty minute walk, you find yourself in front of a huge house. Was it a mansion?

You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours, as promised, but hers was white and blue. She looked almost angelic.

“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!” 

You walked into a huge reception room and there were already so many people inside. The butler took off your coat making you feel a little cold, so you just stayed against Alastor who put his arms around your shoulder. Alice introduced some of her friends, you could not remember every name, there were too many. Did Alice really know all of them? Some of them looked like real adults, and was that a band that was getting ready? You went with Alastor toward the buffet.

“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”

“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big.  Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie. 

“ Alastor, is it you?”

You turned to the voice and saw a beautiful lady. She smiled sweetly at Alastor who gave her his usual smile. Who was she? She began to talk with Alastor, ignoring your presence. You tilted your head, it was the first time someone came straight at Alastor with you next to him. She seemed so confident, you almost envied her. Almost. You were a polite girl, you wouldn’t interrupt them but you didn’t want to stand next to them too long, it would get boring quickly. You took a drink from the buffet and sipped it. It was sweet, you wondered what it was. You smirked, you could already imagine Alastor’s face at the disgustingly sweet brevage you just had.

You should prank him. You took another cup and turned toward Alastor before being startled by the band who began to play music. You almost dropped the cup, that was a close call.. You looked at Alastor who was being dragged by the lady toward the dancefloor. 

Wait what? 

You stared at the scene in front of you, as Alastor began to dance with her.

What?

“ Oh, who do we kill before Christmas?” You turned your head toward Alice who was trying to see what you were watching. “ Oh… Oh, yes. Jealous?”

“ No! I’m just .. surprised. I didn’t know Alastor had other female friends.. Come on, let’s dance.” you finished your drink and dragged Alice who eagerly nodded. 

You both danced with each other, smiling. It was fun! The band was playing some good tunes! She gave you a spin who landed you into someone's arms. You looked up and saw John, your school’s mate.

“ You look beautiful like this…” he said as he admired you. You nodded with a confident smile. You didn’t know why but you felt like the most powerful woman right now! He smiled at you, before looking away shyly. “ Care to bless me with a dance?” You laughed, so formal. You took his hand and danced with him, keeping your eyes open to match his steps. You did stop him from lifting you in the air though, you didn’t trust him to keep you up in the air but thankfully he didn’t take it badly.

You took a look at Alastor and couldn’t help but frown. He was dancing amazingly, as always, spinning the woman before tugging her against him. You pouted, you thought he only did that with you.

As the party kept going you were getting more and more agitated. Why was Alastor still not dancing with you? You didn’t know why, but most of the time you were a good girl but when Alastor was included, you could become the worst brat ever. You walked toward the buffet, took another drink and went toward the band, you needed to look confident. You spoke to the singer and he smiled before making some place for you. He placed the microphone in front of you and asked you what song you wanted to sing.

You smirked and asked for a song you and Alastor’s used to dance on when you were younger. You were watching the crowd, took a deep breath and began to sing. You stared at Alastor who was dancing with another girl but once he heard your voice he turned his head toward the scene , where you were standing. You couldn’t feel but something in your belly, just like that his attention was back on you. You saw the girl trying to keep his gaze on her and you smirked. Not today.

Today you were selfish.

You sang like there was no tomorrow, the crowd clapping their hands with the rhythm of the song, you didn’t think you ever sang this good. You had perfect control on your voice, you were even dancing on the stage as the band were giving their all with you. You looked at Alastor who was still dancing with the lady, even if you could see he was getting bored. Well, you could help. You began to sing with more energy, the band making the rhythm faster as well. You could feel your lips sketched into a mocking smile as you saw the girl not being able to keep up with Alastor. Perfect.

You went down the stage , still singing. The crowd parted for you and you couldn’t help but feel excited. You walked toward Alastor, he had his back on you. You slided your hand on his back making him flinch. He turned his head toward you with a surprised expression. You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking Alastor away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but you didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. You would have your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air. You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly safe. He promised he would always catch you if you were to fall.

You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world. 

And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You grinned at him before you both bowed to the crowd. You went back to the stage, giving back the microphone before going to the buffet, you needed some fresh water.

“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. You laughed at her reaction , it was just you being petty because Alastor wasn’t paying attention to you.

“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water.

“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.”  Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders.  You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time.

You had other dances with Alastor, before people were making little group. You were sitting on a table with Alice,John,Alastor and other people you dind’t know. You didn’t know why, maybe they drank some alcohol but the conversation which was proper began to turn toward something more… spicy?

“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady stared languidly at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?”  You were ready to tell the lady to back off, you didn’t want her to embarrass Alastor because he didn’t have his first kiss.

“ Yes, I have.”

Huh?

“ Oh, I’m not surprised. And you sweetie?” you felt everyone's eyes on you and you blushed. Even Alice had already kissed someone !

“ N-no, I have never.”

“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more as John was looking at you, seeming hesitant. 

“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly.  You frowned, why would he care! He already had his first kiss and he didn’t even tell you. You stood up.

“ I need some air, I’ll be back.”

You took a sip of your glass with the sweet juice and went out, in the garden. You heels hit the paving stone as you try not to burst out of… of what? sadness? angryness? You sighed as you stared at the stars in the sky, you felt the snow falling on your naked arms. You could even see the air you were breathing.

“ You are going to catch a cold.”

You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head.

“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.”

“ Why did you lie ?”

“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.

“ About your first kiss.”

“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. You felt anger sweltering inside you.

“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”

“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you.

You felt your body relaxed. You couldn’t be angry with him. He didn’t know. He wasn’t reading the same book as you. You have been so embarrassed when he had catched you reading a love story but at least you knew what a first kiss was! 

“ Alastor, a kiss isn’t… A first kiss is something you must share with a special someone. Your lips need to touch the other one.” you blushed as you looked away. “ I think.. Th-The lips need to move against each other an-and..”

You took a step back but his hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. You knew he was trying to find your eyes but you were so embarrassed by what you just told him.

“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red.

“ What..”

“ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, his eyes shining with that oh so familiar glint you were used to seeing each time he was looking at you. “ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”

“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile that made you feel warm inside. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to kiss you.

“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.

“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”

“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking at his lips then his eyes, you couldn't focus on something, you were stressed, you were nervous, you were excited. Your eyes were half closed when you felt his warm lips against your cold one. You looked at his eyes, his gaze piercing your gaze with an intensity too much to bear, you closed your eyes.

It wasn’t like in the book but you didn’t know why, you didn’t care. 

You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , you could still feel his breath against your mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.

“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?”

“ Alastor.”

“ How was it?”

“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. 

“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”

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[rubberduckyrye]

Okay in all seriousness. There's something that I REALLY want to talk about as an open discussion with the fandom, but. This is not going to be a very nice thing to hear/talk about.

It's about how Gonta is treated by the fandom.

As a fan of all the V3 characters now, and as someone who has always been a fan of Gonta, and as someone who has many mental disabilities and two diagnosed neurodivergancies... I'm tired of playing nice about it.

You all need to stop being ableist towards Gonta.

I've mentioned in the past that I don't like shitting on personal interpretations. I don't like saying something is or is not canon because narration is just a big web of text that you try to decipher with your own personal biases, experiences, and thoughts. That's why two literary analysts analyzing the same text with the same literary criticism rules can come to wildly different conclusions--why people develop different headcanons from the same canonical information.

But one of the things that challenged my integrity is just how many people view Gonta as this innocent, naive, ignorant, baby boy who can do no harm/never has a complicated/dirty/violent/sexual thought in his life ever.

This incredibly ableist interpretation of the character bothered me for, well, obvious reasons (See: It's fucking ableist, need I say more?) but I never challenged it as harshly as I am now because to be frank, it's not my place to tell people how to HC a character. It still isn't. But I've pretty much given up on my integrity on the subject and have decided to go all in on discussing why this interpretation of Gonta is just. Really bad.

First of all, not to promote my own analyses here or anything, but I think this analysis I did of Gonta explains a LOT in regards to the ableism the cast gives him in canon. I also think that this subtle ableism is why the fandom is so bad with Gonta's characterization in headcanons and fanfic--because they've seen how the cast treats him, and they think it's normal. They don't see the microaggressions, they don't see the subtle ableism in the cast--they just see this big giant idiot who speaks like Tarzan in the English version (which... I don't actually know why people assume Tarzan (Thinking of Disney's version) is stupid. Like as a boy he had to reinvent the spear with no one to guide him on how to do it. He was able to strategize and outsmart "civilized" men in the final showdown. Still I digress) and don't see the literal genius behind his social awkwardness.

There is also another very important point I'm going to make in addition to this, and it's going to be very uncomfortable to Gonta fans who insist he's nothing but a sweet baby who only has pure thoughts. Especially to the fans who insist he "can't be sexual" or think it's weird to ship him with his peers.

Sorry to burst your bubble, but... Gonta blatantly has sexual desire and gets horny right in canon.

This is further clarified here:

It wasn't a matter of Gonta didn't want to touch her because touching someone in their underwear was inappropriate, or being flustered because she was in her underwear which is inappropriate...

It was literally a "weird feeling" that made him unable to approach her or touch her. A "weird feeling" that Miu makes pretty obvious as to what it was--sexual arousal.

He literally was sexually attracted to and felt sexual arousal from looking at Miu in her underwear. He had sexual feelings and thoughts about Miu. Why?

Because Gonta is a young man.

Gonta is a brilliant, talented young man who has normal human thoughts for someone his age--sexual desires, upsetting thoughts, complicated thoughts, ectect. He is not a child, he is not mentally stunted (I've been informed that people have literally said this on Ao3 for the NSFW Gonta fics, please for the love of god stop that)

I think the reason why Gonta fans typically want to keep him as a "pure baby child who can do no wrong" is because treating him like the young adult that he is makes it harder for them to justify Chapter 4. Every time I've seen a Gonta fan that hates Kokichi, it's always followed by the sentiment of "Kokichi manipulated and abused Gonta into killing Miu, so it's all Kokichi's fault." They're afraid of nuance and liking a character with the grey morality of genuinely thinking Mercy Killing the cast is a viable option, because it challenges their own morals about the character they adore.

To those people who read this and are upset: You can and should like Gonta! Gonta is a magnificent character who showcases the subtle way microaggressions can manifest and hurt people, he's a good-hearted person and a literal genius, he cares deeply for his friends and loves everyone with upmost sincerity.

But.

You need to re-evaluate your stance on Gonta if you think he's a stupid, naive fool who Kokichi manipulated. You need to re-evaluate why you think those thoughts, why you think Gonta being shipped with anyone is "Kinda weird" or "has weird consent problems" or "give you the ick." You have to challenge yourself and ask yourself uncomfortable questions in regards to why you treat Gonta like a child when canon has proven otherwise, why you think he cannot have violent or sexual thoughts, why he can't think mercy killing his class is the only way to save them.

This isn't an attack on you--but understand that these specific takes on Gonta? They are ableist in nature. They belittle and dismiss him, they treat him like a child, an idiot who can't think for himself--and you have to come to terms with the fact that Gonta is a far more complex character with complicated thoughts and feelings who is a young adult. Not a child. A young adult.

So again, ask yourself this: Why are you treating this young adult like he's a toddler?

#Gonta Gokuhara #Miu Iruma #Kokichi Ouma #Danganronpa V3 #DRV3 #As an AuADHD individual who thinks Gonta is Autistic coded #do you understand how frustrating it is to see this shit #Do you understand how it feels to be infantized? To be told through the lens of a character “You're too stupid to be an adult”? #Worse yet is that I'm also constantly told that me being short and baby faced makes me “child coded.” #Do you understand how ableist this all is. Do you Understand? #Anyway that's one post down. Gonna go read a thing for Star #This does genuinely upset me though as an AuADHDer #Please stop. I am speaking on behalf of people like me--/Please fucking stop./ #Tag Edit: Yes this is safe to RB and spread around #Please do RB this in fact

[olderthannetfic]

Sorry to ask this. I was going through a blog when I saw a callout post. I checked it out of curiosity. One of the things that was pointed out was : "when they were 31, they had sex with a 18 year old -they are a teenager!- and it's predatory! I (the writer of the callout) am 21 years old and even I don't have sex with 18 year olds because they are very young and it's very predatory!"

So, idk how to feel about that? Especially as someone who has never been in a relationship. I'm 20 years old, soon I'll be 21. Looking at myself at 18 and the future 21, I really didn't change that much? Physically or mentally. Yeah 18 is young but so is 21?? I don't think it's predatory, am I wrong?/serious question

And for the first part, yeah a 31 year old being with a 18 is weird for me, but aren't they both adults? They also said it's because 18 year olds lack experience, which can be true but that's assuming they have never been in a relationship before(with people their own age or similar). So, it can be weird but predatory? Is it?/serious question

I'm sorry if the questions are upsetting &/or weird but I really don't have anyone else to ask- parents are out of question, they literally think you should teach people about sex right before marriage- and I don't trust most online spaces. There's also zero books about such things in my country because "protect the children!!". So now we have an adult(me) who was raised to never ask question about these things and now is confused as hell. Hmm.....

--

It's all hogwash.

On average, I would assume that a 31-year-old having sex with an 18-year-old is a bit of a creep. However, it would depend entirely on the circumstances. Is this 18-year-old a naive high school student? Or are they someone who's been working a job for several years? Maybe the older person is their coworker whom they got to know.

A 21-year-old and an 18-year-old can be weird in the US if they only just met and one is a high school student while the other is a university student. But what if they met in some very different context where they're more in the same stage of life? Sure, I side-eye upperclassmen who start dating freshmen the first week of their freshman year, but what about later on in the year? What if both of these people aren't students at all and are, again, working a job together?

"You're mature for your age" is a line that creepers feed to younger people, but it can also be true. Some people just get along better with older partners.

We shouldn't be too draconian about any specific rule. You can only judge by the real circumstances of a specific set of people.

Predators are defined by their behavior, not ticky-box demographics. There is no absolute that lets you detect them and protect yourself. People wish there were because they would feel safer. That's what this kind of post is about.

[mothdruid]

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

#moth talks #here it is #sorry it's so long but i couldn't convey my thoughts any other way

[jeankluv]

I love you, it’s ruining my life - Geto Suguru

Words: 1,5k

Summary: You stood besides Geto for over a decade but despite loving him so much, it was ruining you.

Tags: heavy angst, canon, set during 2017-2018, blood, mentions of death, no happy ending, a bit of Gojo x reader but not romantic, no use of y/n, gn!reader

Notes: a request and a one shot in a single day, yep 🤭

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

When he decided to leave, you left with him.

More than 10 years had passed since then, you were no longer kids, you had changed. Even though there were mornings where you looked in the mirror and still saw the 17 year old student you once were. But when you looked at him, there was nothing left of that 17 year old boy.

You still loved him and you would probably always, but that love was consuming you.

But that day, you didn't see the 17 year old girl, what you saw in the mirror was a tired young woman, with a dull face and dark circles under her eyes. You felt like all your color was completely gone.

Existing your room, you walked through the hallway until you spot Suguru’s silhouette, I was talking to Miguel, apparently there was a course that Suguru was interested in obtaining. Passing by, you walked and saw a couple of people waiting for Suguru to serve them. Your heart was squeezed when you thought about the fate they would have.

You had accompanied Suguru for all these years, but you had never been able to agree with his ideas and until that day they continued to make you nauseous.

You sighed and went outside, where you sat on one of the benches there. In the distance you could see Tokyo and the memories of when you were a teenager began to come to you. Would you be there if you had realized earlier how Suguru was? If you had tried harder? If I had supported him more? Everything was what ifs... That they would never be, you answered and you could only imagine what could have been.

“You are here.” A deep voice, spoke behind your back. “Geto is looking for you.”

You stood up and nodded slowly. Walking towards where Suguru was, you felt your heart flutter nervously. You opened the door and found him sitting on his “throne”. When you entered you could see traces of blood on the floor. You turned your head, feeling the vomit rise in your throat.

"I'm sorry." Suguru murmured from his seat. “I thought it would take you longer so you wouldn't see the blood of that dirty monkey, but you came.”

“Suguru…” You tremble. “Don't you think that's enough…?”

"What do you mean?" He rose from his throne.

“What I mean…” Your heart fluttered. “Let's go Suguru, let's go away.” You approached him. “You, the girls and me. Far from everything…”

Suguru's gaze was cold. “Do you hear yourself?” He smiled zinicly. “Do you want to run away? After all these years? Of my progress? Don’t be foolish.”

“Suguru… please…” Your eyes stung.

Suguru snorted and moved away from your touch and it was then, seeing his back, that the boy who once swore he would love you forever, died long ago.

“I know you loved me.” You looked down. “But you don’t love me anymore.” Those words were heavy on you, it felt like stones being thrown at yourself.

“That’s what you think?” Suguru asked

“I don’t think that, it’s what it is, Suguru.” You held back your tears, not wanting to cry in front of him. “The only times we are intimate it’s when you want to have sex, the rest of the time… I don’t even see you because you are to focus on killing people.”

“Monkeys, those are not people, they are monkeys.” You shook your head trying to ignore his words. “Don’t tell me you don’t agree with what we are doing.” He approached you and you took a step back.

“I don’t think I ever did Suguru.”

“Then why? Why did you follow me?” His tone was clear, he was angry.

“Because I love you!” You raised your voice. “I love you Suguru, I always did. And you needed me back then… you needed someone and I… I couldn’t leave you.”

“So you never truly believed in what I was doing…”

“That’s what matters to you?” You raised your gaze facing him. “If I agree with what you are doing?”

“Yes!” He was the one to shut this time. “You were the… the only one who stayed and I thought it was because you agreed but it was because you loved me.” A hoarse laugh came from his throat. “You thought that if you came with me and with that love of yours I was going to change?”

He looked at you and you said nothing, because yes, your foolish self really thought it was going to be able to change him, to make him go back and try to find a solution to what he did. But you were a fool and even 10 years later you were still a fool, because deep down you were still hoping you could make him understand.

“I won’t change, I will never change, I will kill all those monkeys and create a world where only sorcerers exist.” He sat down. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

The first tear rolled down your cheek. “I love you Suguru.” You said. “But it’s ruining my life.”

Suguru stayed silent, not saying a word, not saying anything. This wasn’t the guy you fell in love with, years ago, that boy wouldn’t stare at you and do nothing.

You stepped away and turned around to leave the room. Before exiting the room, you look at him one last time.

“I love you Suguru, I will always love you.” You whipped the tears away and left the room.

After that last look, the days passed and turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. Suguru never looked for you, you were alone. You couldn't go back to where you were once happy because that would doom you and you couldn't go back to the person you loved because she was long dead.

You looked up and saw the snow falling. The new year had begun with snow. You hugged your body and walked through the new streets of the small town you had moved to. There you could simply be you and help those like you who could see curses and didn't understand it.

“The ground is slippery over there.” A voice spoke behind you.

You stopped dead when you heard it, how many years had it been since you had heard that voice? You didn't even know it anymore.

You carefully turned to confirm that the owner of that voice was the one who was once your best friend. And indeed, a few meters away from you was Gojo Satoru. Taller than the last time he saw it that October afternoon. Unlike that time, his eyes were completely covered by a white blindfold.

“Satoru…” You murmured.

“You lost weight.” He simply said.

Ignoring his words, you went straight to the point. “Are you here to execute me?” You asked him, trying to pretend that your voice was shaky.

Satoru shook his head. “Why would I?” Before you could answer he continued. “There is no execution order for you, so there is no reason for me to execute you.”

“What?” You said stunned. "How is that possible? I spent years with him, they should…”

“You were never considered a threat like him and I asked them not to include you on the list of cursed sorcerers.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. "Thanks, I guess." You hugged yourself tighter, to stop yourself from shaking. “What are you doing here then Satoru?”

"He is dead."

Your breath caught and your heart skipped a couple of beats before it began to break. Suguru was dead… Suguru… You stifled a cry, not wanting to cry in front of Satoru.

“I’m sorry…” Satoru whispered.

“Why are you sorry for?” Your voice coming out like a whisper from your throat.

“It was me…”

And then a cold breeze hit your face.

You shook your head and looked up at the sky trying to stop the crying. “It’s what you had to do…” You heard Satoru's footsteps approaching you. “Did he say something before he died?”

“He gave me this.” Satoru took your hand and placed an object on it. “He told me he was sorry and that I love you until the last moment.” You carefully opened your hand, finding a ring.

You clenched your fist to your chest and began to sob. You felt Satoru's warm body wrap around you and try to calm those sobs that didn't stop coming out of you. After a few minutes, you managed to calm down and separated from Satoru.

“Thank you…” You said.

Satoru handed you a folded piece of paper. “My number and Shoko's are written down. Call us when you need it or if... if you want to come back there again. Yaga won’t care and if the old guys say something, I’ll take care of it.”

You looked at the paper and then at Satoru. “I'll keep that in mind Satoru… thank you.”

“Take care.” He said and turned around to walk off.

You saw his silhouette get into a car and then disappear. Opening your hand again, you looked at the ring again.

“I love you Suguru.” You murmured kissing the ring and letting once again your tears flow.

#geto suguru fanfiction #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #geto fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru fluff #fanfic jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x oc #satoru gojo x reader

[cowboyjen68]

Hello Cowboy Jen! I was wondering if you had any advice for me

Here’s the situation- I’m a young lesbian (I’ll be 17 going into college) and I’m going to study geology. I’m assuming my classes and later on my work environments are going to be mostly men since geology is a male-dominated field. Any advice for being in spaces without very many women? And picking a different field’s not a very good option either, geology’s been my obsession since I was five and I doubt I could give any other field as much attention and focus.

When I was DEAD SET on being in the DNR or a Forest Ranger or some kind of Park worker I was in my tweens and early teens. I loved the idea of working with people and animals and outside and getting to use my hands and my knowledge of land and history. Then some Jack Ass at the Corps of Engineers station I volunteered at told me women couldn't really do the job right and it was too dangerous and I lost confidence. I stopped going and didn't reapply for the Mayor's Youth Parks program I had worked at for two years. I just left the idea behind. I see now all the older women park rangers that are around and read stories of women like my current boss who was a naturalist for years in our county. I work at a nature center almost entirely staffed by strong women with the exception of the CEO, the marketing guy and one outreach guy. If I had seen any of these women in my teens i would have said "heck yeah women can do this".

You are going to be that leader, that beacon. That is a thought to keep in your pocket on hard days.

The truth about working with men is, in general, they don't really care and they kinda just feel awkward. They lack social skills around women so they end up saying the dumbest stuff. I am not saying men can't be total pains in the ass or feel threatened by you being around, they absolutely can. At the end of the day we are all human and women are 50% of the population so at some point they have dealt with women in class or at a job.

Mostly just start off with giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Saying stupid stuff to try and be funny is not the same as harassment or hate. If you don't feel offended or insulted or threatened don't try feel like you are because you think you are supposed to be.

Look them in the eye, do listen to those who have good things to share, teach or discuss. Don't dismiss men for being men. Just as many humans, they want to share what they know and tell you what they have learned. I have been taught so much by the men I work with at the farm but I had to tell myself to listen and not just paint them in my brain as being bossy or mansplaining.

Don't shy away from questions when you need help. Ask when you need to ask and thank them for helping when they do. If you are interrupted by them say "I am not finished, please wait your turn" or something similar. Stand up for your right to share what you know or to get more information when you require it.

Basically, think of men as neutrally as possible until one proves he is to be avoided or ignored. Listen to your gut if you feel unsafe or degraded and keep notes on that behavior. If you must, tell your professor or a dept head if you feel like the bad actor will continue or possible endanger you.

Once you learn your trade you can recruit other women and share your love of your job/degree and some day it will not be more men than women around you!

#trades #women #on the job #careers #college

[romancefranaticstay]

・❥・Matching・❥・

Han x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff, smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sorry that i didn't post for a while, but i didn't had any inspiration. Now i have many stories in mine head i want to share with you all!

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

You and Han were in a friendgroup, which was very choatic. You two knew eachother for many years and also your friendgroup. But when you guys started dating, you didn't want to tell them. Because they would be dramatic, constantly kinda 'bullying' you two because of 'love' if you understand what i mean. Maybe you should have told them you were alreaddy dating Han Jisung...

The entire friendgroup was sitting in a very popular kind of cafe (you could say.) Many young people who were single came here. Ofcourse you all came here to, because you were obviously 'singel'.

You were sitting at the usual spot. You were sitting infront of Han, just looking at eachother. Letting your feet touch his. His dark staring made you giggle behind your menu card. It was weird your friends didn't notice yet.

'I am going to take some sprite.'

'Yeah me to.'

'I will get an coca-cola.'

'For me a Tonic, because i am not as childish as you.'

'Cool for you, Yoongi, cool for you.'

'What do you guys want, Han? Y/N?'

'Yeah for me also sprite.' Han said.

'For me just water.'

"Who's going to get it?"

"Can't we just wait, it won't take long."

"It will be much shorter if someone gets up now."

"I'll do it." you sighed.

'So three sprites for Han, Hanni and Jin. 1 Coca-Cola for Lisa, a tonic for Yoongi and water for me. Okay I got it.'

You stepped towards the bar, you could still hear your friends chatting behind you. The bar was quite large, with a lot of people sitting there. A young man came to you from behind the bar.

"What could it be, young lady."

'Three sprites, 2 colas, 1 tonic and 1 water.'

'I bet the water is for you.'

'Yeah, how come?'

'Your face is as clear as water.'

Your cheeks took on a slight tint. You didn't really know how to answer this.

'Thank you.'

You've heard a bit about this guy, apparently his name was Yeonjun. He wasn't much of a flirt, so you were surprised that he flirted with you. Han glanced somewhere towards the bar, where you were standing. He found the man annoying, he revolved around you. He clicked his jaw.

"It's a lot of drinks." Yeonjun said.

'Yes, there are a lot of us.'

'Will it work?'

'I hope so.'

You already grabbed three glasses in your hands.

"Let me help you."

he picked up his plate and placed the drinks on it.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Yeonjun walked behind you with the drinks. Your friends were still deep in conversation, only Han saw you coming.

"I'm here, actually we."

Yeonjun placed all the drinks on the table.

'Thank you.'

'My pleasure young lady.'

He walked slowly back to the bar. You placed yourself next to Hanni again (in front of Han).

"Didn't you see him flirting with you?"

'Really?'

You knew he was flirting with you, but you weren't interested.

"You're clearly blind."

'Yes probably.'

"You know, ask for his number." Lisa said.

'Why?'

'He's cute, handsome and he's big. He can flirt.'

'Yeah so?'

Han looked at you with a dark look. He was dark.

"You two would be really cute together."

You looked briefly at Han, his teeth were gritted. He didn't want to look at your eyes right now.

'No thanks.'

"Think about it, okay?" Hanni said.

'Yeah sure.' you said sarcastically.

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

After fifteen minutes your group of friends left. You guys went to the skate park and hung out there. You were loud again, shouting and giggling. It was nice, but you could tell that Han was very quiet today. You felt guilty for a reason.

"I'm going home, I'm not feeling so well." Han said suddenly.

"Should someone come with you?"

'Should I come?' you asked.

'No, no, I'm going...I'll go alone. Bye everyone.'

Everyone looked at each other a little strangely. Yoongi thought it was the weirdest. Because he always suspected that something was going on between you and Han. And not just because you're roommates...

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . .

You walked home fairly quickly once everyone had already gone home. You were actually running. Street after street. Right and left. You opened the door and saw Han sitting on the couch. He was watching a series.

"Hey."

He turned his head so he was looking in your direction.

"Hey."

You stepped towards him and plopped down on the couch. His eyes were glued to the TV again.

"Han, is everything okay?"

'Yes.'

he wasn't looking at you.

"Han... are you sure?"

'Yes.'

You turned his head towards you, his head between your hands.

"Han... tell the truth."

"Are you guys really cute together?"

"We're cute together, not me and him."

His puppy eyes looked in your direction.

'Do you think that?'

'Yes, oh Han. You are the only one, you will remain the only one forever.'

Your thumbs caressed his cheeks.

'I love you Hani, I love you so much. Don't you know?'

He suddenly grabbed your legs and dragged you under him.

'Mmm, I know that. Lucky for you, that I love you to.'

He lowered himself to get a touch from your lips. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth. You ruffled his hair.

“Gosh Y/N, I love you.” he moaned.

His hands touching every part of your body. He pulled his shirt over his head. His lips immediately went to your neck, licking in circles. He bit and nibbled on your sensitive skin. Your hands went to his pants, you took off his belt with one motion. Your hands pulled down his underwear. His cock was already hard, pumping full with blood. You started to stroke his cock slowly. Whimpers fell from his mouth. His hands went under your blouse. He cupped your breasts, he slowly started to massage them.

"Oh Han." you moaned.

You could already feel yourself being wet. Your underwear felt wet.

'You like that, don't you baby.'

One of his hands started to slip down. You felt his fingers moving from your breasts closer to your weakest spot.His hand slid into your underwear. His index finger slid through your wet folds. You whined softly. Then another finger slid in. He started pumping in and out of you very slowly. You clung to his arm. You nibbled his ear playfully. You felt your legs wobble. You felt yourself coming. You clung tighter to his arm. Your nails dug into his back. He started to go faster, hearing your moans in his ears. You came with a moan and rested your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair gently before laying you on your back. He pulled down your panties. Your legs were already spread. He positioned himself at your entrance. Your hands interwined with his. You were already used to making love to him, so the stretch didn't hurt.

He started to move slowly inside you. His eyes never left yours. He held your hands, he kissed them. You loved his touch. Han loved seeing you underneath him. Your eyes always looked up at him. You looked like a Goddess. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow and tender kiss. He brought your hand to the bottom of your stomach. You felt his length hidden deep within you.

'You feel that?' Han panted.

'Yeah, I feel it.'

Your whole body was sweaty from the heat. The room had a sort of sex atmosphere. Suddenly Han started to push himself into you very quickly. It got you back and forth on the couch. Han felt his orgasm coming, so did you. He thrust into you with a fast pace. Your nails dug into his sweaty back. You arrived at the same time. Han propped himself up on his arms so his body didn't crush you. He took you in his arms. Your arms embraced his body.

"I love you Han."

you whispered before falling asleep.

“I love you too Y/N.”

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

#skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz smut #skz scenarios #straykids smut #skz angst #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han jisung smut #han smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids fic recs #han skz #han jisung #skz jisung #stray kids han

[hey-i-am-trying]

ME RANTING ABOUT MISINFORMATION ABOUT BAGI AND WHAT NOT

A missing piece people don't realize about the workers' murder arc is that Bagi was not all that bothered by the workers' death at first, she was more worried about how Cucurucho would retaliate and also by the cannibalism, because yeah, cannibalism doesn't exactly scream mental health.

It was seeing the grief of the living workers that changed her profoundly, it filled her with guilt. And I cannot help but think of young Bagi who didn't have a body to bury, didn't have closure, and refused to even acknowledge the possibility that her brother was dead, being so moved by such an open sight of mourning.

Bagi ran herself stressed not knowing a way to help Cellbit AND stop the murders, she refused any solution that would harm him, she went after talking with people who were close with Cellbit and whom she also trusted to not turn information to the Feds. I am sick and tired to people saying "Bagi told random people about the murders". List of islanders Bagi actually told: Roier, Bad, Pac, and Mike. All who were in one way or another connected to enigmas themselves. People who she knew had more information about Cellbit past or that she thought deserved to know for their own safety.

Bagi never called Cellbit a monster or even insinuated he would hurt the eggs, I really don't know where this misinformation came from. In the separate scenes of Bagi and Bad confronting Cellbit they were they quite literally saying he was more than a murderer, and that he was being consumed by his history of violence

(Also, I get it that watching your blorbo drown in blood is fun and all. But like, did you watch Cellbit's story and believe he turned back into a murderer and being brought back to the violent cycle he was forced into is a good thing? Did watch him seeing his childhood room for the first time and asking himself what he did to deserve to be taken away from his family and made to kill people to be able to survive? Did you see that and then when he told Bagi he didn't care if he died again because he died enough time and did not get that Cellbit murdering people is also him losing grasp on the importance of life itself? Did you not get that this was not a developing arc for him? This was him at his fucking worst after having the best things in his life taken again, again and again. Murder was not enrichment for him, it was a poison that killed parts of him too)

Anyway. That is for now. I think. Just a lot of shit I needed to get out of my chest.

#qsmp #fandom neg #i guess #qsmp bagi #qsmp cellbit

[meichenxi]

languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

#langblr #chinese #languages #culture #china #:(((((((((((

[defectivehero]

Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)

this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization

"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."

The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.

Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.

"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.

"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"

"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.

"Answer the question," the villain demands.

"Very well," the hero answers carefully.

In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.

"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."

"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.

"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."

The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.

"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.

"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.

"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.

"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.

"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.

"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.

"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."

It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.

"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."

"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."

The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.

At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"

"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.

"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.

"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."

Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.

The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.

"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.

"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."

There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.

The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.

Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?

The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.

The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.

It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.

The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are greatly appreciated—just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.

i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.

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[aurumacadicus]

92 or 14 maybe? 🤔

Going with 14!

--

Prince Anthony was picking his feathers out again.

Steve wordlessly set his shield aside and walked over to grab his hands, yanking them down, away from his wings. "Your highness--"

"I know!" Prince Anthony exclaimed defensively. His wrists jerked in Steve's grip, though, back toward his wings, and he wilted under Steve's stern glare. "I know," he repeated miserably.

It broke Steve's heart, but he turned to grab the picking glove, and while Prince Anthony obediently stuck his hands in so the mouth could be cinched tight around his wrists, he couldn't help but think it wasn't fair. Maybe Prince Anthony wouldn't be picking himself bald if he didn't have to choose a suitor in the next three days.

Prince Anthony had always been put off by the cock parties, as he'd called them--"cockerel balls" had always seemed to lend a layer of refinement to them that they didn't deserve, he'd said. Mostly, it was young cocks approaching and trying to impress prospective hens, and as Prince Anthony had a sizeable fortune behind him, he'd been the one most flocked to. It had made him suspicious, nervous even, of anyone's attention. Steve had watched, heart sinking with every ball, as grabby kids who barely knew what to do with a cloaca fawned all over Prince Anthony for the chance at his wing in matrimony.

It had given him nothing but a dim view on mating parties and cocks in general, which was probably why he'd gotten away with his secret for so long. He was so visibly disgusted after each cockerel ball that everyone assumed even if he was pregnant, he'd get rid of it as quickly as possible. Only when the rumors about his sudden cravings for sardines and almonds got loud enough to reach the royal court did it become necessary for Prince Anthony to undergo medical examination. And, well, when it was found to be true, that a royal hatchling was on the way, an unwed, pregnant royal was deemed a hazard to... what was it they had said? Public decency and the dignity of the crown?

Either way, it meant that another cockerel ball had been set up as quickly as possible, and Prince Anthony no longer had the choice of saying no to all comers if he wanted to keep his financial backing, even if he plucked himself bare in the meantime.

Steve watched Prince Anthony begin to pace, feeling helpless. His prince was in trouble, and he could do nothing of import to stop it. Prince Anthony looked like a caged animal as he walked up and down the carpet. He wasn't even showing yet. Was the palace hoping to get him wed immediately and lie about the hatchling being early? Someone would be bound to talk. That's what had started this mess, after all.

"I suppose," Prince Anthony began, voice halting and pained as he turned to pace in front of the window, obviously hoping the sun's rays would help him feel better. "That Lady Pepper is. Nice enough. Could pass the egg off as hers if we married."

"I suppose," Steve agreed, hoping he sounded noncommittal instead of just bitter.

"Or. Or that kind--Bruce? I think?"

"The alchemist Bruce was very kind," Steve answered with a nod.

"Or I could... I could just..." Prince Anthony stopped in front of the window, staring outside. Then, as quickly as he stopped, he turned around, eyes wide and beseeching. "Run away with me."

Steve's mouth dropped open in shock. He blinked at Prince Anthony slowly, unable to comprehend what he'd just been asked. Prince Anthony was a well-loved public figure, and while Steve was famous for his work in the war, he'd never been... someone people wanted to see running the country. In fact, if anyone ever found out that he was the one who had henned the heir apparent, he likely wouldn't be able to see him again. Prince Anthony was royalty. Steve had clawed his way up from the streets. He was only Prince Anthony's personal guard because there had been several attempts on his life, and Steve was the best at what he did.

"Run... away...?" Steve finally repeated, still not quite believing it.

"I'm just a figurehead for this stupid country," Tony spat, hope giving way to anger. "They only kept royalty on as a tradition they didn't know how to quit, as a show. I don't have any real power. And that's how they can bully me into getting married, picking a cock I don't even like all that much to be the legitimate father of my egg--So. So let's run away."

There were many reasons why Steve should say no. The country loved Prince Anthony, for one--he was only behind his late mother in terms of charity, and was quickly gaining on her record; despite the fact that he had no real power, he always did his best to influence parliament to vote in favor of the people; and the whole country had collectively swooned when a tabloid had leaked a picture of him holding a baby at the hospital with the quote 'babies need to be held' splashed under it. Steve was a nobody, come up from nothing, and most people did not have good things to say about him coming up from nothing because of the war.

Prince Anthony's gaze was steady, though, when Steve met his eyes. He was certain of his decision. That was one of the things Steve liked about him--he knew what he wanted, and if he could get it, he eagerly went through with it. And if he couldn't get it, he was a gracious loser.

"Your highness," Steve began with a sigh.

"I don't care if we're poor," Prince Anthony continued before he could voice his dissent, the determination in his voice making Steve's mouth snap shut in surprise. "You'll take care of us. And I--I have an education. I can get a job to help. You helped make this egg," he added sharply. "Are you refusing to take responsibility? And could you really just let someone else raise your chick?"

If he told himself it was for the better, to make sure the chick got everything it needed or wanted, he probably could. Prince Anthony would love it enough for the both of them, even if his new spouse only tolerated the chick. It wasn't ideal, but then, neither was getting Tony laden with egg before marriage. A marriage that couldn't happen because of who he was and who Prince Anthony had turned out to be. Steve opened his mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that he would not be taking the spot from a more deserving rooster.

But he didn't want to. And Tony was clearly showing he didn't want to either. So he looked up at Tony and nodded sharply. "Alright, Tony."

"Tony," he repeated in a whisper, shocked. Steve only ever called him that in bed; he needed the separation of work and intimacy, and it helped to remind Tony, too, that he couldn't reach out and touch whenever he wanted. Steve watched as Tony's mouth spread into a wide smile as he lunged toward him, hooking his bound hands behind Steve's neck and pulling him down for an overjoyed kiss just bordering on desperation. Apparently, eschewing his proper name was all the real confirmation he needed of Steve's feelings.

Steve threw his wings up in a mating display just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

#aurumacadicus answers #sunnysideprincess #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

[unstable-samurai]

THE NEW COUNTRY GIRL NEXT DOOR WANTS YOU - smut

Miyeon x Male Reader

one-shot

tags: blowjob, teasing, strangers tor lovers, first sex, ride, penetration, creampie

[Note: English is not my native language, So possible grammar errors and more rigid prose can be found in the text. But I ask that you give it a chance, if I don't give up on this, I will work hard, bringing longer and more effortful stories:)

This is the first version, I will eventually correct whatever is wrong.]

History:

The moving team worked very hard. Fortunately it would be a quick job. One of the many advantages of being a single and minimalist man: little furniture. Y/N helped the moving team by picking up the most delicate boxes that contained electronics and fragile objects. The neighborhood was beautiful on that calm afternoon, the golden sun radiated the green grass and the white fences of the houses on the street.

"Man, I'm going to love living here", thought Y/N, sighing with satisfaction.

He noticed that the neighboring house on the right had a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe it was a kind old lady who lived there. The whole flower and decoration thing indicated that. He still didn't know any of his neighbors. Y/N cut off his thoughts and returned to his task. It didn't take long to get everything inside the house, anyway.

The interior of the residence now had some furniture scattered throughout the rooms and several boxes that needed to be opened. Y/N wasn't in a hurry, he would do everything calmly, after all, it's not like visitors were going to show up anytime soon...

Well, he was wrong about that.

While he was drinking water, the doorbell rang, slightly startling him. Y/N really thought he was going to be completely alone, at least for the first few weeks until he adjusted to the neighborhood. The person at the door was probably one of the neighbors wanting to welcome him or something. Y/N was exhausted as hell, but he couldn't start things in this new city by ignoring people like that.

To his surprise, the one on the other side of the door was a beautiful young blonde. She holding a box of chocolate.

"Hello, new neighbor! I came to welcome you to the neighborhood." She said, quite excited.

The girl was wearing a red flowery dress that highlighted her small body.

"Hello! Are you one of my neighbors?"

"I'm the girl next door. I brought this to you." She handed him the box of chocolates.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you very much. What's your name?"

"My name is Miyeon." She smiled at him. It was a charming smile.

"Y/N."

He reached out to shake her hand, but Miyeon pulled him into a hug. Y/N couldn't help but enjoy the heat her body emanated, the sweet scent was also delirious.

"I was watching you when you were bringing the furniture into the house." She revealed it to him.

"Serious?" Y/N questioned. "I did not see you."

"You seemed focused on the task."

"It must have been because of that. Are you, by any chance, the owner of that beautiful flower bed?"

"Yes! It's mine! I've been taking care of it for about two years. It's my greatest pride!" She told him, her little eyes sparkled with joy. "It's not very common for men to pay attention to flower beds and things like that. You're quite observant, Y/N."

"I think we both are."

Miyeon laughed, her cheeks flushed.

"I hope you like the chocolates."

"They look great."

"Do you have anything for dinner at your house?" Miyeon asked.

"Actually, I was thinking about ordering a pizza."

"Save the pizza for tomorrow. I can make you dinner at my house and bring it to yours. We both eat together. What do you think?"

Y/N quickly thought that: even if he was delirious with fever he would still be unable to refuse a proposal like that.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would love that."

"Me too! Then I'll see you later."

"I'll be waiting for you."

She said goodbye to him and went to her house.

He wasted no time getting ready. Y/N ran to the bathroom to take a well-deserved hot shower. In the shower he felt silly for being so excited about that dinner, he almost looked like a 15 year boy on first date. But Miyeon was a really beautiful and attractive woman, as well as incredibly friendly. He didn't expect a blessing like that to happen so suddenly on his first day in the new house. "Miracles happen," he thought. And also, after the last relationship, he deserved to breathe new air.

Breathe new women.

Y/N played poker on his laptop sitting on the sofa in the living room. The internet would only be turned on the next day, and he was starting to feel a bit of withdrawal from not being connected. But when deciding to leave the troubled capital, he should also get used to being a little offline. All the social media shit had been fucking with his brain for a while.

"I need to learn gardening or something.", he thought.

The doorbell again. And now Y/N didn't feel fear when he heard it, but rather excitement. Y/N took the notebook off his lap and placed it on the sofa, combed his hair a little more with his fingers and went to open the door.

"I hope you like lasagna!" Miyeon exclaimed, carrying a glass baking dish with both hands.

Y/N barely managed to speak since he opened the door. She was dressed really provocatively, and acted like she didn't give a shit, totally casual. She had placed the lasagna on the kitchen counter. The two were sitting on the sofa. Miyeon was cross-legged, and the short skirt she was wearing wasn't able to hide even half of those juicy thighs.

"You're going to live alone, right?" She asked.

"Yes. Do you live alone too?"

"Correct. I used to live in the capital, but I got tired of the traffic, the people there, all the futility and stuff. My job luckily allows me to live anywhere I want."

"We're not much different then."

"You also lived in the capital?!" She asked, amazed.

"Exactly."

"Now I'm sure we'll get along great." Miyeon commented, and casually placed her hand on Y/N's knee.

It was soft and warm. A thought came over him and he imagined her sliding that hand to his thigh, and from his thigh to his groin. Just by vaguely imagining this scene, Y/N felt his dick harden inside his pants.

"You know, I was actually watching you move in. You caught my attention. In fact, I've seen you since you came here last month to look at the house." Miyeon's voice was no longer animated from before. It was now in a low and sweet tone. Sexy. "I hoped you would become my new neighbor."

"I think if I had seen you too, I would have moved here a lot quicker."

She smiled.

"You're sweet" Miyeon slid the hand that was on Y/N's knee to his thigh. "And naughty."

"Why you say that?"

"Because I can see your hard dick in your pants."

Y/N couldn't contain himself and placed his hand on Miyeon's thigh. The grip was so intense and sudden that she couldn't take it and let out a muffled moan.

"I can't control myself with you dressed like that" he said, looking intensely into her eyes.

"I don't want you to control yourself, darling." when she finished speaking she jumped into Y/N's lap. He grabbed her small waist and started kissing Miyeon on every corner of her face: cheek, mouth, chin and neck. She was totally surrendered, and felt between her legs how hard his dick was.

Y/n slid his fingers along the strap of Miyeon's crop top, feeling the soft texture of her skin under her eager touches. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered the strap and, to his surprise and delight, saw that she was not wearing a bra. Miyeon's small but perfectly formed breasts were exposed. Without hesitation, Y/N leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking it voraciously as his tongue played with the sensitive tip. Miyeon arched her back in response, moaning loudly with the pleasure that coursed through her body. "Yes, baby!" she said between muffled moans.

"I love having my breasts sucked. They are sensitive. This makes me so excited." She commented, ecstatic.

As Y/N occupied himself with her tits, Miyeon felt more and more aroused, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. With hands shaking with desire, she got off Y/N's lap, her mind fixed on one thing: completely drooling over that hard, thick cock that was waiting for her. In one agile movement, she unbuttoned Y/N's pants, eager to taste what was underneath.

Miyeon played with Y/N, caressing the dick that was inside his underwear with desire. "Make him wet for me, baby," she begged, slyly. Miyeon started kissing Y/N's dick. The warm, soft lips through the cotton of his underwear gave him indescribable pleasure. "Keep going...argh!! This feels so, so good," he sighed. It didn't take long for the underwear to become damp where the glans of the cock was. Y/N let out an anticipatory moan when Miyeon released his dick. He breathed quickly when he felt the skillful caress of her lips wrapping around his cock, which was pulsing with excitement. Y/N's eyes closed instinctively, getting lost in the overwhelming sensations that Miyeon's mouth provided. Every suck, every moan of pleasure she made, every flick of her tongue, pushed him closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.

With a husky moan, Y/N pulled away from Miyeon before she made him cum, her eyes shining with lust as he made her stand. "Sit on the sofa and open your legs for me!", he ordered, and she smiled at the order. With eager hands, he lifted Miyeon's skirt, exposing her wet, pink pussy to him. Without hesitation, he dove between her legs, his tongue finding the right spot of pleasure that made her tremble with desire. Miyeon's moans echoed through the room, her mixing with the sound of wet and obscene movements that filled the air while stroking Y/N's hair.

Finally, momentarily satiated by the intensity of pleasure, Y/N sat down on the couch, her eyes burning with desire as he watched her hungry for more. With a husky, lust-filled voice, he ordered her to ride him, giving in completely to the desire that consumed them. Miyeon didn't need any further encouragement, riding Y/N with a ferocity that only increased the intensity of the pleasure they shared. Her pussy turned out to be very tight and incredibly delicious. The hip movements were incredible, the skirt was lifted to the waist, while the top was pulled down. It was beautiful the way she rode on his lap, so that Y/N didn't want to close his eyes just to see her moving smoothly and steadily on top of him.

"Daddy!" She blurted out of her mouth.

"Do you like riding your Daddy?!"

"I love it! I love it! I love it!" She moaned louder and louder.

"Just like that! Yeah! Such a good girl!"

"Argh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Miyeon moaned following the rhythm of her hips going back and forth simultaneously. That was art!

"What you said before?" Y/N asked between moans and heavy breathing. "Your boobs are sensitive, right?"

Y/N took his back from the back of the sofa and hugged Miyeon. He could wrap his entire body around her, and that was delicious, because that was what he felt like doing with her: wrapping himself completely around Miyeon until he ejaculated.

Y/N grabbed Miyeon's waist and it was as if she already knew what he was going to do because she automatically arched her back so he could suck her boobs. This made her go crazy immediately. "So good..." she moaned. Miyeon started to ride faster as she became delirious with pleasure.

"Like this! Keep sucking my little tits, Daddy! Oh!How naughty you are! You suck so good!"

Y/N squeezed Miyeon's ass tightly while licking one of her nipples without stopping. She was moaning incredibly loudly.

"Slap my ass, Daddy!"

"Ask again!"

"Spank my ass, Daddy. Slap it until it turns red, please!" She screamed.

He slapped her while she rode frantically. Y/N was going crazy with so much pleasure.

"I'm going to cum!" He groaned in her ear.

"Cum inside me, baby! Let's cum together!"

"I can?"

"Yes! I'm taking the pills.

Y/N thrust her hips making her accelerate at a pace she had no control over.

"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She said.

"Cum for me!"

"I'm going to cum on your cock, Daddy!" She screamed, then wrapped her arms around Y/N's back, scratching him in the act.

Miyeon flexed her thighs on his lap as her pussy squirted, gyrating her hips and rolling her eyes in pleasure. Those movements involved all the sensitive receptors in Y/N's dick, and that was the end for him, cumming inside her, pressing Miyeon's body against him, while she said:

"How delicious! I feel your hot cum inside me... Uhhh!" Her entire body shook. "Now it was dripping..."

She remained astride him for a few moments longer, while cum slowly dripped down her pale thighs. Y/N kissed her, slowly and tenderly.

"That was amazing!" He said. His body was completely relaxed and the brain had reset itself. Little by little reality returned to his mind.

Miyeon got off his lap and it was a surprise for both of them to see that his dick was still a little hard.

"Can you handle another round later?" She asked, giving him a teasing look. "I haven't felt this hot for someone in a long, long time."

"We can have sex after dinner. Now I'm starving... Damn, the lasagna must have gotten cold!"

"Do you know what the second best thing is to sex?" She asked, trying to hide a laugh.

"Hmm, i don't think so."

"Microwave!"

#smut #kpop smut #smut male reader #miyeon #miyeon smut #miyeon smut x male reader #Miyeon x male reader #g igle smut #g idle Miyeon #kep1r smut #kep1er miyeon #kep1er g idle #kep1er #male reader #x male reader #x smut #male insert #x male insert #smut g idle #g idle smut #girl group smut #male reader smut #gidle smut #girl group #gg smut #miyeon x reader

[vidavalor]

But what if Azzy and Crowley aren't quite angel and demon any more but something else, and it's revealed when they pop their wings and they turn out to have changed to a sort of greyscale iridescence (light grey for A. and dark grey for C.)?????

Bold of you to assume that it's Az who is the light grey. 😉

Crowley has always been able to do his angel magic since he fell and Aziraphale's always been able to do temptations/possessions. They just didn't know it, it seems, until around 597 AD. I think the point might be more along the lines of all of them-- the angels, the demons, the humans-- are just beings.

We're all people. Call yourself what you like. Identify as you wish. You get to decide who you are and real freedom is getting to a point where you don't let someone else's definitions of who you are impact your own.

There's a moment of God's narration in S1 when Crowley is bringing baby Adam to Tadfield Manor and he is about to cross paths with Arthur Young. Their interaction sets off the series of miscommunications that result in the baby swap that night and sets the events of 11 years later into motion. God explains that (this is a little paraphrased) it helps to understand that, in human affairs, misunderstandings happen as a result not of people being fundamentally bad or fundamentally good but just as a result of people being human. She is narrating Crowley's story at the time and he is among the humans in the sequence whose miscommunications are impacting events. God is referring to Crowley as human in her narration, causing us to then consider what a human is just as much as what an angel or a demon is.

It makes you wonder if God views all of the beings on the show as fundamentally human-- which is quite different from how the angels and demons have been taught to view themselves, no?

Angels, demons, humans-- all just beings. Different from one another but with commonly held wants and needs. All God really wants is for everyone to have fun and take care of each other. Everything else is bullshit beings have made up to make everything more complicated and painful. God's favorites are the ones who question and work towards freedom and peace-- theirs and that of those around them.

'Demon' is a label The Metatron came up with to ostracize angels who rebelled. It's not really a thing. Many of the angels, though, don't live up to the label of 'angel.' It's all shades of moral grey. True evil exists-- Satan-- but that's not most of the demons, who are just actually basically the original anti-fascists. (Witness how much they all hate the Nazis in 1941.) Most of the demons are just the first free-thinkers while most of the angels are just repressed prisoners of the whole toxic system.

They all need some good music and a hot chocolate. I have the feeling that, at the end of the day, Crowley and Aziraphale could make their wings any colors they might like to, so long as they're of mind to do so. They likely can do anything they believe they can do.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale

[dazeddoodles]

Wait, I saw this a while ago, i don't understand how eda didn't have more friends besides lilith (who was her sister, lol, and then she met raine of course). I feel like she was outgoing but bad at making friends? Or she was considered weird, or what do I know. Anyway, I have a headcanon that she was <affected> by some kind of bullying sometime (since that's what idiots do to the socially maladjusted?) obviously she didn't show it and fought back, but being in her teens she was more prone to being affected by those kinds of comments and causing her insecurities. I feel like those insecurities were directed at her abilities as a witch, looks, courage, etc. That's why she brags a lot about herself as the best or for being sexy.

It amuses me to think of the teenage eda. Like she was a fan of a boiling islands version of crepypastas (canon), a sports fan, a bit of a ¿tomboy? But with that taste in skirts, dresses and makeup. Maybe she didn't like social events among a bunch of students who left her aside, and that's why she escaped to make jokes and chaos. Normal female adolescent tastes (like the end of that chapter where she got into a singing argument on the school's vocals about which was the best boy band) and that she spent time scrapbooking. It makes me say, its just like me fr

Oh, and yes, I definitely feel like she would have an instagram where she bakes like 10 memes a minute in stories.

I think Eda initially didn't have friends besides Lilith for the same reason as Luz, she's outgoing but people find her weird or offputting (also they're both so ADHD coded).

Like Luz, she might have also been bullied for that, though I think Eda would be the type to lash out and fight back when someone would try to pick on her (think Helga from Hey Arnold, who is also a tomboy that wears dresses)

Eda definitely does seem like the type to pretend that what bullies say doesn't affect her when it actually does. Her being picked on for her abilities as a witch, looks, and courage as a teen and that being why she brags about those now as an adult is possible and an interesting idea.

The specific brand of tomboy(?) young Eda is has always been so iconic to me. Long hair but doesn't brush it, wears skirts but doesn't sit properly in them, and in adult Eda's case, is sexy but super sloppy.

She is an icon and legend.

#THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG I FORGOT TO POST IT IM SO SORRY #eda clawthorne #asks

[betweenbreaths]

95. Quiet, baby, the others will hear.

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Characters: Rafayel x Reader

Rating: E / 18+

A/N: Working off this list of r18 prompts for practice; am open to requests for this fandom as well. ;)

++++++

Sometimes, you think, Rafayel is an incorrigible, shameless and irredeemable asshole of the highest order.

And then there are days when you realise that he's so, so much worse than that.

You're at his latest art exhibition, and guests are bustling about. Their murmurs are loud enough that you can hear various buzzwords that the more pretentious visitors tend to use when they want to sound smart and knowledgeable about Rafayel's art. There are also quiet gasps by people enthralled by the ethereal paintings in display.

And, in your case, there are muffled moans spilling through the crevices of your fingers from where you're hidden behind a curtain in a corner of the musuem. Beneath you is a certain fame artist renowned and admired by everyone in the hall, although in your case, he's just a brat who's intent on making life absolute hell for you.

"Quiet, baby, the others will hear."

He briefly pauses to say that infuriating statement, as if he isn't the very reason you're in this state.

You're starting to regret even coming here now; you had arrived early with a bouquet of tulips to congratulate Rafayel, only to be greeted by a distraught Thomas who couldn't find the artist anywhere. He wasn't responding to texts or calls, including yours. Worried something might have happened to him, you immediately set off in search for him. You had then gone past an empty, unused exhibit in the corner of the museum, on your way towards the exit, before you found yourself being unceremoniously yanked back by an unknown force and crashing straight into the familiar arms of a young man.

And now, here you are, struggling to stay quiet while he ravages you, tongue lapping at your drenched pussy like a parched cat.

"Thomas is looking everywhere for you," you hiss, before throwing your head back against the wall when he sucks particularly hard on your clit.

"Don't care," he says, pausing to flash a mischievous grin your way. Still, it's no respite; he continues to pump his two fingers in and out of your slick center, while his thumb periodically flicks over your sensitive nub.

"He's the reason I didn't get to see you for two weeks. And you said you'd give me any reward I asked for if I finished my paintings in time."

"Yes, but not like this! We— ohh yes... w-we can do this later!"

"You say that, but you're clenching hard around my fingers." His lips quirk up at the corners once more, and he leans in closer to your pussy, hot breath fanning over the exposed, sensitive skin. "I didn't do much and you're already so wet for me. Looks like I'm not the only one who missed this, hmm?"

"Rafayel... Ha-ah!" He dives back in, lips hungrily devouring all that you have to offer, sending spark after spark of pleasure running like electricity through your skin. You're close; so close. He knows exactly what he's doing to your body; scissoring his fingers and thrusting them deep into the spot that you love, all while he traces circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. You start to lose yourself to the intense pleasure that he's giving you, sinking down and hips thrusting to meet the rhythmic dance of his tongue and lips.

At that moment, the sudden sound of distant applause snaps you back to reality and your eyes burst open, hand flying to cover your mouth.

"Rafayel, p-please..."

Your near inaudible protests fall on deaf ears. If anything, Rafayel starts sucking harder, fingers thrusting harder and faster into you now. You can feel the familiar buzz of an orgasm prickling on your skin, and your body begins to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. Your muffled moans begin to crescendo in time with your building pleasure, fingers finding purchase in his soft, wavy hair. Perhaps it's for support, or maybe it's to pull him closer, to fuck yourself on his face and to satisfy both his and your thirst after two long weeks of pining for and missing each other.

"Come for me," he murmurs against your clit, moaning and rolling the bright pink nub between his teeth and tongue like it's the sweetest candy that he's ever tasted.

It doesn't take much more for you to find your release. You come apart, back arching of the wall with your head thrown back while your lips part in a silent scream of his name.

Even then, Rafayel, being the ruthless man he is, doesn't let you go. He continues to suck and lap at you, seeking every last drop of your release from your body. He drinks it all up greedily and when you're finally settled down from your orgasmic high, he releases you, a string of your cum connecting his lips to your kiss-swollen cunt.

"Rafayel..." you breathe out, and when your eyes meet, you just know that he's not anywhere near finished with you yet.

He stands, lanky figure towering over you, and in the next moment, you find yourself being spun around to face the wall. Your hands plant themselves on the cool, hard surface in front of you to reflexively stop yourself from falling face-first into it, and they are promptly covered by his larger ones.

And then you hear his voice, low and silky by your ear. The fiery heat in his breath against your skin makes you shiver in anticipation once more.

"I know it's going to be difficult, but let's try to stay quiet for a while more, okay?"

#love and deepspace #lnds #lds #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #my writing