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darkfinch · 2 years

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how was the Lethal Weapon viewing experience? I remember you mentioning Convergence a couple times, and of course the Kittyfangs Saga has been a whole thing, but I don't remember if you've talked about Lethal Weapon. (I've never seen any of these and don't intend to, just curious.)

I do not think you are prepared for my response to this question unfortunately i am So sorry

……..sigh. the thing about lethal weapon is that it is fundamentally, structurally batshit. it is not a television show. it is an ordeal

* tw for suicidal ideation , suicide, depression, child death, pregnancy, bad television. also some spoilers for lethal weapon *

so in theory lethal weapon is a "television show" based on the 1987 film of the same name, where buddy cop character #1 (played by damon wayans) is a normal suburban dad with a cool wife and some cool kids (AND AN EXCEPTIONALLY ADORABLE BABY) who is heading back to work after getting a pacemaker.

buddy cop character #2 (played by our own mr crawford) is one hundred and sixty-seven layers of trauma bundled into one openly suicidal thing of pure chaos, currently transferring in to this police department after having suddenly lost his wife and baby a few months earlier

the thing is, damon wayans was brought in on the premise of this being a like, a funny lighthearted feel-good show primarily focused on his character and his character's adorable suburban family

clayne crawford was brought into this on the premise that they were going to let him do some absolutely gut-wrenching character shit (his most cherished thing to do, guy loves 2 be a man with problems) and a lot of fun action scenes

instead of blending these two concepts together into any kind of coherent media experience, what happens is that the creative team on this show (with help from a ton of behind-the-scenes bullshit no one will ever have enough time to dig through) ended up essentially making TWO INDIVIDUAL TELEVISION SHOWS and then stapling them together and praying

the results: *muffled distant screaming over upbeat pop music*

i genuinely cannot stress enough how much these two halves of this television show refuse to interact with one another on any level. Like. i am talking about clayne crawford experiencing beautifully shot sequences of suicidal ideation to sad indie music, hard cut, sitcom hijinks with this cute suburban family

the imperceptible Effect that this creates is that clayne crawford is doing all of his incredible fucked up character shit, experiencing grief in his illegally-parked trailer, walking along the edges of rooftops, casually mentioning that he wants to die, detailing his plan for how he’d kill himself Out Loud To His Partner with absolutely minimal prompting — and no one is allowed to engage with it, because they’re operating on funny show logic, and that would be a Bummer

i am not kidding :^) they're genuinely all just like "oh weird" *smash cut to drone footage of, like, LA or whatever, to upbeat pop music*

Iike i cannot convey what is happening in the show. The extent of it. wayans walks in on crawford holding a gun to his own head and it's treated like "oops i walked in on my coworker doing something awkward" they are ONE step away from awkward sitcom music, it is Not discussed in any meaningful way,

crawford’s OUT LOUD like "i have nothing to live for" and wayans (who is not a good coworker or a good friend) is like *offended voice* "well if you think THAT then maybe you SHOULD go kill yourself" *storms out* HEY HI HELLO. WHAT IN FUCK

unsolicited example number 3: crawford’s having a Bad Night, and he goes out and deliberately provokes a bunch of dudes in a bar into beating him half to death (possibly so that he doesn’t have to go to the family dinner he’s been invited to by wayans, who has a house and a family—AND a baby the same age his own kid would be if his pregnant wife had not died On The Way to the hospital to give birth, less than a year ago). Wayans calls him while he’s bleeding in the middle of the road to chew him out for missing the dinner. Wayans is like “this is really hurtful to me, you’ve hurt me” which is very extremely funny because crawford is physically hurt right now. Later crawford shows up to work beat up and wayans is like “oh weird” and they don’t have a real conversation abt it MOVING ONNN FUN SOUNDTRACK

but don't worry they're friends they're so so close they're Dude Buddies, Guy Friends, Family Even, HURT NO COMFORT TELEVISION SHOW,

This "television" "show" will not stop talking about mental health but the mental healths of the show are bad. For instance:

This man lives off of classic depression meals Exclusively, he visibly does not take care of himself, he’s barely getting out of bed in the morning, he says he likes weekends because he can lie on his couch and dissociate for 48 hours without any societal expectations, (HE’S, AGAIN, OPENLY DISCUSSING THAT HE WOULD LIKE TO NOT BE ALIVE), and it takes most of a season for his cop-assigned therapist to be like “wait holy shit?? like i might be reaching here but…..have you considered that you might have…………..The Depression. Textbook even. woah” and i lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling and netflix autoplays the next episode

It really only gets worse as the show goes on, because the people in charge of this production had to lie to and finagle these actors into working together again for season 2 (nonono don't worry, wayans reeaaaally wants to be here, we're gonna make this one single coherent television show don't WORRY)

we find out in s2 that crawford’s character’s life has been horrifying from the jump and he has never had even a goddamn SECOND of peace, but because he can’t talk through this information with any other character (because they don’t care on more than a surface level, because that would be weird and a bummer) he’s having these entirely internal character arcs and backstory revelations and they are CONTAINED EXCLUSIVELY within solo scenes and flashbacks in his half of the show

but also for it to be a heartwarming buddycop scenario, he has to hang out with the suburban family and get to know the wife and the kids etc etc, which he does —but they can’t know Him or anything about his situation, because that’s not suburbia-sitcom-vibe-appropriate, so they don’t. Faux found family. Found family like how your employer’ll be like “we’re a family here” and you’re like “uh oh”

(like. you know how people are like "well my dnd character wouldn't ever talk about his tragic backstory and wouldn't really want to work with people" and it's like okay jeremy, but this is fiction, so if you want the story to work you sometimes have to find a way to Make Them Do That. that's one of the thousand curses of this televisioned showe)

AND THE THING IS, the thing is, right, this show is actually so fucking good at times. I’m saying it i will say it it has SHINING MOMENTS of brilliance. Mr. Crawford’s hair is wonderful. The traditional cop show side characters are a delight. The soundtrack is fun. The suburban wayans family are my family and i love them. There ARE cute buddy cop moments it IS fun i DO love the antics i DO love mr crawford nailing the “comedic manic glee -> ohhhhhh im weeping abt lethal weapon” quickchange

(AND, if we take a step to the left, the show can be read as a stumbling commentary on the isolation that often comes with mental illness and grief etc etc. if we squint and offer more credit than is deserved)

But the dialogue is frequently Quite bad, one half of the main buddycop duo comes off as being entirely apathetic and self-centred and just bizarrely Incurious, the writing is........writing (my FAVOURITE scene is where crawford’s lad has a drunken one-night-stand, feels like he’s cheated on his wife, goes to a crime scene feeling extremely Crisis about it, and then wayans sees him and goes “sinner”. And crawford points to himself like :’0 “me?” but it turns out “sinner” was carved into the victims’ chest I TAKE IT BACK i love this dumb fucking show)

(also. it imploded behind the scenes, which i'm not going to go into here because it's a lot of unnecessary nonsense, but end result was that The Powers That Be were like "crawford's the problem we're replacing him" when in reality wayans didn't want to be there and everyone was miserable and nothing was working. his Section of the show ends weirdly, and then they do one (1) season with a new character in his place, and no one watches it, and then the show ends dlksjhflkjsh)

Anyway lethal weapon is a Harrowing thing to witness and perceive especially if you have struggled with depression or know folks who have, but it is also funny and ?? fun ??? clayne crawford has been given fun angst bones to chew on in his acting enclosure he is doing Such a good job, it also put him off of non-indie projects completely and is Bad and i cannot in good faith ever recommend it but i did binge watch 1.5 seasons of it TWICE so like maybe it just gives you brain damage idk. Hate it tho. Hate the media

TLDR: it sure is something

#yes but if u see mr crawford please ask him if his back still hurts from carrying this show for 2 seasons.....#stop making me want to rewatch lethal weapon it was a terrible media experience. mr crawford did a good job tho & so did the suburban kids #mr crawford also now makes movies with a bunch of the cast & crew from the show which is nice i guess #finchtalks

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arcane-sync · 1 year

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This is 100% some specific part, just dont know who I am right now. I am just... tired and pissed, and I have enough control to say things I'm not usually allowed to say.

First, and honestly the less severe of the two offenders: this fucking school. The only other school in the area with the same program is more than double the cost. So transfering isnt really an option. But i hate HATE having to keep an eye out for a short list of professors who want me kicked out of this program. I finished this semester and as i got ready to leave the final class, the teacher said goodbye with such vitriol. I pointed out that it sounded like get out. Her response was "well..." then she tipped her head like i had a point then walked away. I hate sitting here and praying her bias doesnt tank my grade in that class. I kind of like my 4.0. I hate that i will have to spend the next two years here watching my back. I've stopped keeping my diagnosis a secret. I will not sit back and let this school teach my fellow students that DID is a mythical creature when the 12 month prevalance rate is HIGHER than bipolar, OCD, and anorexia (at least according to the DSM-V. I dont own the TR yet). I wont hide when i have in ACTUAL EMAIL the CHAIR of the department saying I "am not allowed to continue in this program until such a time as I am cured of my disability." Sure its resolved for now, but I know I am holding a smoking gun.

And the fact that DID celebrities on tiktok and twitter are on a hate campaign against professionals? Yeah, triggering that anger more. Fuck them for roping me in with the entire profession. For making parts of us feel WRONG for wanting to enter the field cause theyre all getting painted as villains right now. They talk about professionals not listening to people with DID as if there are not professionals practicing RIGHT NOW who have DID. Talk about being stuck in the middle, when both your fellow professionals and your clients hate you.

And second, our husband: Who still refuses to use preferred pronouns. Who was OFFENDED when he found out we have male alters and accused us of being trans. Who still says it was okay to try and give us an exorcism when our DID first started showing (and the fact the first part claimed to be a demon is beginning to feel like a flimsy excuse). Who eats out meals without telling us then gets offended if we do the same. That I have to RATIONALIZE every single purchase with. Every single dollar spent has to be reported and labeled as to why we bought it so he can balance the budget. But like... we are paying out of our own bank account that is filled exclusively with our student loan money. So... why? Unleas he doesnt actually think we will get a job after this degree and is constantly preparing to take on our medical and grocery expenses. But we don't have the money to leave him and no support network in the area to help. Who still defends himself saying it was my BIBLICAL DUTY to give him sex. Who went a year without and growled out that he will NEVER go that long without sex again, and that sounded an awful lot like a threat at the time. The man that so many of us are still scared to talk to about anything remotely related to politics because its more important for him to stand up for his political beliefs than comfort our fears. Birth control, trans rights, riots, shuts all of those thoughts down with his anger. And yet, I'm in the minority on leaving this relationship. The others dont think its that bad. That he can get better. That he's TRYING to get better. As if him trying to get better absolves him of suffering any sort of punishment for his past actions. And the marriage counselor AGREES. Says things arent getting better in the relationship because we wont let go of the past. That its our TRAUMA and resulting trust issues ruining the relationship.

I'm tired of swallowing down acid when I feel like I have every right to be spitting it in other people's faces. But the others beg me to. And for the life of me, I cannot convince the others otherwise. They wont listen to me.

#this entire post is a trigger warning #cursing tw #tw sex mention #in particular #and abuse i guess

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love-and-i-am · 2 years

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I don't like the media, but the media likes me.

MARILYN MANSON May 28, 1999

It is sad to think that the first few people on earth needed no books, movies, games or music to inspire cold-blooded murder. The day that Cain bashed his brother Abel's brains in, the only motivation he needed was his own human disposition to violence. Whether you interpret the Bible as literature or as the final word of whatever God may be, Christianity has given us an image of death and sexuality that we have based our culture around. A half-naked dead man hangs in most homes and around our necks, and we have just taken that for granted all our lives. Is it a symbol of hope or hopelessness? The world's most famous murder-suicide was also the birth of the death icon -- the blueprint for celebrity. Unfortunately, for all of their inspiring morality, nowhere in the Gospels is intelligence praised as a virtue.

A lot of people forget or never realize that I started my band as a criticism of these very issues of despair and hypocrisy. The name Marilyn Manson has never celebrated the sad fact that America puts killers on the cover of Time magazine, giving them as much notoriety as our favorite movie stars. From Jesse James to Charles Manson, the media, since their inception, have turned criminals into folk heroes. They just created two new ones when they plastered those dipshits Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris' pictures on the front of every newspaper. Don't be surprised if every kid who gets pushed around has two new idols.

We applaud the creation of a bomb whose sole purpose is to destroy all of mankind, and we grow up watching our president's brains splattered all over Texas. Times have not become more violent. They have just become more televised. Does anyone think the Civil War was the least bit civil? If television had existed, you could be sure they would have been there to cover it, or maybe even participate in it, like their violent car chase of Princess Di. Disgusting vultures looking for corpses, exploiting, fucking, filming and serving it up for our hungry appetites in a gluttonous display of endless human stupidity.

When it comes down to who's to blame for the high school murders in Littleton, Colorado, throw a rock and you'll hit someone who's guilty. We're the people who sit back and tolerate children owning guns, and we're the ones who tune in and watch the up-to-the-minute details of what they do with them. I think it's terrible when anyone dies, especially if it is someone you know and love. But what is more offensive is that when these tragedies happen, most people don't really care any more than they would about the season finale of Friends or The Real World. I was dumbfounded as I watched the media snake right in, not missing a teardrop, interviewing the parents of dead children, televising the funerals. Then came the witch hunt.

Man's greatest fear is chaos. It was unthinkable that these kids did not have a simple black-and-white reason for their actions. And so a scapegoat was needed. I remember hearing the initial reports from Littleton, that Harris and Klebold were wearing makeup and were dressed like Marilyn Manson, whom they obviously must worship, since they were dressed in black. Of course, speculation snowballed into making me the poster boy for everything that is bad in the world. These two idiots weren't wearing makeup, and they weren't dressed like me or like goths. Since Middle America has not heard of the music they did listen to (KMFDM and Rammstein, among others), the media picked something they thought was similar.

Responsible journalists have reported with less publicity that Harris and Klebold were not Marilyn Manson fans -- that they even disliked my music. Even if they were fans, that gives them no excuse, nor does it mean that music is to blame. Did we look for James Huberty's inspiration when he gunned down people at McDonald's? What did Timothy McVeigh like to watch? What about David Koresh, Jim Jones? Do you think entertainment inspired Kip Kinkel, or should we blame the fact that his father bought him the guns he used in the Springfield, Oregon, murders? What inspires Bill Clinton to blow people up in Kosovo? Was it something that Monica Lewinsky said to him? Isn't killing just killing, regardless if it's in Vietnam or Jonesboro, Arkansas? Why do we justify one, just because it seems to be for the right reasons? Should there ever be a right reason? If a kid is old enough to drive a car or buy a gun, isn't he old enough to be held personally responsible for what he does with his car or gun? Or if he's a teenager, should someone else be blamed because he isn't as enlightened as an eighteen-year-old?

America loves to find an icon to hang its guilt on. But, admittedly, I have assumed the role of Antichrist; I am the Nineties voice of individuality, and people tend to associate anyone who looks and behaves differently with illegal or immoral activity. Deep down, most adults hate people who go against the grain. It's comical that people are naive enough to have forgotten Elvis, Jim Morrison and Ozzy so quickly. All of them were subjected to the same age-old arguments, scrutiny and prejudice. I wrote a song called "Lunchbox," and some journalists have interpreted it as a song about guns. Ironically, the song is about being picked on and fighting back with my Kiss lunch box, which I used as a weapon on the playground. In 1979, metal lunch boxes were banned because they were considered dangerous weapons in the hands of delinquents. I also wrote a song called "Get Your Gunn." The title is spelled with two n's because the song was a reaction to the murder of Dr. David Gunn, who was killed in Florida by pro-life activists while I was living there. That was the ultimate hypocrisy I witnessed growing up: that these people killed someone in the name of being "pro-life."

The somewhat positive messages of these songs are usually the ones that sensationalists misinterpret as promoting the very things I am decrying. Right now, everyone is thinking of how they can prevent things like Littleton. How do you prevent AIDS, world war, depression, car crashes? We live in a free country, but with that freedom there is a burden of personal responsibility. Rather than teaching a child what is moral and immoral, right and wrong, we first and foremost can establish what the laws that govern us are. You can always escape hell by not believing in it, but you cannot escape death and you cannot escape prison.

It is no wonder that kids are growing up more cynical; they have a lot of information in front of them. They can see that they are living in a world that's made of bullshit. In the past, there was always the idea that you could turn and run and start something better. But now America has become one big mall, and because of the Internet and all of the technology we have, there's nowhere to run. People are the same everywhere. Sometimes music, movies and books are the only things that let us feel like someone else feels like we do. I've always tried to let people know it's OK, or better, if you don't fit into the program. Use your imagination -- if some geek from Ohio can become something, why can't anyone else with the willpower and creativity?

I chose not to jump into the media frenzy and defend myself, though I was begged to be on every single TV show in existence. I didn't want to contribute to these fame-seeking journalists and opportunists looking to fill their churches or to get elected because of their self-righteous finger-pointing. They want to blame entertainment? Isn't religion the first real entertainment? People dress up in costumes, sing songs and dedicate themselves in eternal fandom. Everyone will agree that nothing was more entertaining than Clinton shooting off his prick and then his bombs in true political form. And the news -- that's obvious. So is entertainment to blame? I'd like media commentators to ask themselves, because their coverage of the event was some of the most gruesome entertainment any of us have seen.

I think that the National Rifle Association is far too powerful to take on, so most people choose Doom, The Basketball Diaries or yours truly. This kind of controversy does not help me sell records or tickets, and I wouldn't want it to. I'm a controversial artist, one who dares to have an opinion and bothers to create music and videos that challenge people's ideas in a world that is watered-down and hollow. In my work I examine the America we live in, and I've always tried to show people that the devil we blame our atrocities on is really just each one of us. So don't expect the end of the world to come one day out of the blue -- it's been happening every day for a long time.

MARILYN MANSON

#writing #marilyn manson #1999 #Columbine #Media #Scapegoating #Censorship

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translations-dark-matter · 2 months

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Living as an Extra in an Omegaverse novel

Chapter 19

"Is it because of your background that just anyone is brought to this position?"

Ha Jin-seong's unpleasant tone stung Ha Min-hyuk.

Interesting observation.

"That ahjumma appears out of nowhere, sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."

[TL note: Ahjumma refers to married or middle-aged women. Basically what you call someone else's mother or auntie.]

Ha Jin-woong added to Ha Jin-seong's words, probably referring to Ha Min-hyuk's birth mother.

Entertaining observation.

"These clueless bastards are the problem. I wonder if things would improve if we squeeze them out?"

"Oh, Oppa. So, you're saying that the asshole I mentioned earlier wasn't just a metaphorical one?"

Jin Hye-in cleverly added to Ha Jin-seong's sulking.

It was incredibly thrilling.

Se-hyeon's eyes darted busily among the people. What had only existed as text in the original work was now unfolding before their eyes in real time. Thanks to this, Se-hyeon was able to observe everything from the perspective of a spectator.

Ha Jin-seong and Ha Jin-woong were both easy and difficult opponents. While it was dangerous to have an unpredictable enemy who concealed their hostility and aimed for unexpected moments, these two brothers were different.

They not only exposed everything but also harboured resentment towards Ha Min-hyuk and seized opportunities to throw daggers at him.

"They were the ones responsible for the previous incident as well."

A man had forcefully attempted to kiss Ha Min-hyuk, and Yoo Jin-ha, who happened to witness it, was shocked and ran away. Though Ha Min-hyuk caught up with Yoo Jin-ha in the middle of the road and explained that it was all a misunderstanding, Shin Tae-oh and I watched as their relationship trembled as Yoo Jin-ha didn't believe him.

The man who tried to kiss Ha Min-hyuk at that time was none other than Ha Jin-woong's accomplice.

"They must know they're bad guys, considering how terribly they look."

Ha Jin-seong and Ha Ji-woong were identical twins. Perhaps due to their shared bloodline, they both had upturned eyes and wicked lips. However, if we were to find a difference between them, it would be that Ha Jin-seong had a slightly more agile demeanour compared to the bear-like appearance of Ha Ji-woong.

Due to only half of his blood being mixed, Ha Min-hyuk looked more handsome than his brothers in a refined way. Although he was shorter and had a slimmer physique compared to Shin Tae-oh, his facial features were clean and well-defined.

"Shin Tae-oh is always the exception."

As the male protagonist, Ha Min-hyuk admitted it. Shin Tae-oh, being the second male lead, had to be good-looking, but he was excessively so. No matter what, isn't being this good-looking a bit too much? How difficult must it be to give up on Shin Tae-oh...?

Unknowingly getting lost in his thoughts about appearances, Se-hyeon calmly tapped on his notepad. The screen was filled with explanations about the new product, but his mind was elsewhere, making it difficult for him to focus on the words.

Unbeknownst to himself, Se-hyeon tapped the pad calmly, trying to organize his thoughts, which had unknowingly become fixated on appearances. The screen was filled with explanations about the new product, but his mind wandered elsewhere, making it difficult for him to absorb the text.

Shin Tae-oh is handsome. Handsome Shin Tae-oh. What would life be like if I looked like Shin Tae-oh?

"It's okay. Stay seated."

In the meantime, Se-hyeon heard a coaxing voice from Ha Min-hyuk, who was trying to make Yoo Jin-ha sit down.

"But that's not right."

Inwardly, Se-hyeon shook his head at Ha Min-hyuk's stubborn action. Se-hyeon also knew why Ha Min-hyuk brought Yoo Jin-ha here. It wasn't to make Yoo Jin-ha uncomfortable but rather to reveal their relationship as a couple through this presentation.

Anyway, Se-hyeon understood the reason behind bringing Yoo Jin-ha here, but it didn't seem like a particularly good idea.

"You're making him uncomfortable."

Ha Jin-seong and Ha Ji-woong were using Yoo Jin-ha to belittle Ha Min-hyuk, making the atmosphere uncomfortable.

"That's why one's background matters. That's why in the old days, noblemen like us..."

"Enough."

Ha Ji-woong, who was happily chattering away, glared at Shin Tae-oh with an annoyed look after being interrupted. Shin Tae-oh, in turn, disregarded Ha Ji-woong's gaze like an annoying fly and showed signs of irritation.

"Why do you talk so much?"

As Shin Tae-oh cut off Ha Ji-woong's sulking towards Ha Min-hyuk, Se-hyeon's eyes were filled with unspoken words, and his lips twitched.

Oh, Tae-oh.

"Why did you intervene? Is it because Jin-ha is upset? Even if it's not you, Ha Min-hyuk... Ah, I see now."

He finally understood. If Ha Min-hyuk comforts Yoo Jin-ha, he will make Yoo Jin-ha fall for him even more. That's why.

I understand Shin Tae-oh's frustrated feelings, but now that he has intervened, Se-hyeon found himself in a position where he couldn't just stand by and watch. Although it may seem pitiful to see Ha Min-hyuk and Yoo Jin-ha being treated this way, Se-hyeon was actually feeling at ease, knowing that he would eventually repay them multiple times over.

"What a waste."

"Shin Tae-oh."

Taking the place of Ha Jin-woong, who couldn't speak up to Shin Tae-oh despite being the same age, Ha Jin-seong stepped forward.

"Don't interfere."

"I was just watching, ready to congratulate you if there was something to celebrate."

Shin Tae-oh calmly received Ha Jin-seong's warning. He returned the favour, just as they had done with Jin Hye-in and Shin Tae-oh earlier.

Shin Tae-oh nodded his head, as if he understood, but...

"There's no need for you to congratulate me on our family matters."

"Oh, really? It seemed like you had something to say, seating me here."

As Ha Jin-seong clearly drew a line when it came to Ha Min-hyuk, Shin Tae-oh nodded his head. It seemed like a sign of understanding, but...

"It's fine for brothers to joke and play around. We'll deal with it later. It's noisy."

"You..."

Ha Jin-seong glared at Shin Tae-oh, feeling displeased with being lumped together with Ha Min-hyuk as brothers. However, Shin Tae-oh murmured without any trace of impact on his face.

"Do whatever you want."

As Ha Jin-seong's sulking about Jin Hye-in and marriage reached its peak, Se-hyeon suppressed it with a subtle nod in response to Ha Jin-seong's question, lowering his head.

"As a secretary who even takes care of drinks... Now that I think about it, you seem familiar."

As Ha Jin-seong narrowed his eyes, deep in thought, Jin Hye-in leaned closer and whispered to him, all the while not diverting her gaze from him.

"Are you feeling uneasy?"

I couldn't help but glance at Shin Tae-oh, sensing that something unexpected might happen.

It's all because of Shin Tae-oh.

Why did he have to interfere in the fight between the Ha brothers? And amidst all this, Shin Tae-oh had a faint smile as if he found it amusing.

"Saying he's fallen for me was truly an impulsive remark."

It seemed like sacrificing myself and protecting Yoo Jin-ha worked out well. Yes, I'm glad I didn't accept.

"To think you went to the hotel together. They must be really close."

Finding a means to attack through Jin Hye-in, Ha Jin-seong immediately spoke up, and Se-hyeon clenched his fist tightly, forcing himself to turn his head.

"Why does it boil inside me like this when I should just ignore his immaturity?"

Until now, I had laughed at the cheesy dialogue of villains in novels, calling them one-dimensional characters. I had said they were too simplistic, but now that I experienced it firsthand, it was different.

"When I speak simply, it seems to hit closer."

"Your eyes and nose are out of proportion, and your lips are quite thick. How does it feel to look like that?" Rather than such a comment, it felt more impactful to hear something like, "You're so damn ugly!" It was that kind of feeling.

'Aside from mentioning the hotel, it seems like he's asking if they have that kind of relationship. What should I do?'

It was a moment when I wondered how to handle the situation, setting aside the unpleasant feelings.

"Jin-seong."

Shin Tae-oh's affectionate voice calling out to Ha Jin-seong captured everyone's attention. As if mesmerized, Ha Min-hyuk and Yoo Jin-ha were also looking at him. Shin Tae-oh spoke kindly.

"I can't stand those bastards who judge and expose others based on their background. Do you understand what I mean?"

Ha Jin-seong's face stiffened at the venomous threat hidden in Shin Tae-oh's gentle tone.

"It means I won't just sit back and watch if anyone messes with what's mine."

Ha Jin-seong closed his mouth. Faced with the threat that Shin Tae-oh wouldn't just sit back if he mentioned Se-hyeon, using Yoo Jin-ha to attack Ha Min-hyuk, he couldn't help but snort in disbelief.

'What should I do?'

When he touched Yoo Jin-ha, Ha Min-hyuk was present, so Shin Tae-oh remained silent. But the moment Se-hyeon was mentioned, Shin Tae-oh immediately stepped forward. How should this be interpreted?

It was when Se-hyeon looked around with a complicated gaze.

"Ha Min-hyuk."

Ha Min-hyuk's expression was strange. He seemed to be waiting for something, constantly looking somewhere. Se-hyeon was pondering why Ha Min-hyuk was behaving like that when he realized it belatedly.

The reason why Ha Min-hyuk didn't protect Yoo Jin-ha. He was observing the situation.

This was a moment arranged in the story, akin to a twist or revelation, but why did it only occur to him now...

When Se-hyeon turned his head following Ha Min-hyuk, a legion led by elderly individuals whom he hadn't seen until now was entering. It included Chairman Ha Cheol-kyu, Ha Min-hyuk's grandfather, along with Jin Myung Group's chairman and his wife, as well as the chairman of SR Group, Jeong Mi-jeong.

"Ah."

Se-hyeon, who thought it was fortunate that people who could mediate this situation had arrived, looked at Shin Tae-oh's perplexed reaction and focused on his face. He had been furrowing his brows, giving off an impression that seemed to question whether he had been controlling the atmosphere as he pleased until just now.

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quoteablebooks · 4 months

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Genre: Fiction, Adult, Mystery Thriller

Rating: 4 out of 5

Content Warning: Murder, Domestic abuse, Death, Child abuse, Animal death, Animal cruelty

Summary:

A work of literary suspense that deconstructs the story of a serial killer on death row, told primarily through the eyes of the women in his life.

Ansel Packer is scheduled to die in twelve hours. He knows what he’s done, and now awaits execution, the same chilling fate he forced on those girls, years ago. But Ansel doesn’t want to die; he wants to be celebrated, understood. He hoped it wouldn’t end like this, not for him.

Through a kaleidoscope of women—a mother, a sister, a homicide detective—we learn the story of Ansel’s life. We meet his mother, Lavender, a seventeen-year-old girl pushed to desperation; Hazel, twin sister to Ansel’s wife, inseparable since birth, forced to watch helplessly as her sister’s relationship threatens to devour them all; and finally, Saffy, the homicide detective hot on his trail, who has devoted herself to bringing bad men to justice but struggles to see her own life clearly. As the clock ticks down, these three women sift through the choices that culminate in tragedy, exploring the rippling fissures that such destruction inevitably leaves in its wake.

*Opinions*

This was another read influenced by social media since I first heard about it while someone talking about this novel on their YouTube channel. It sounded fascinating and since it was available on Libby (support your local library), I gave it a try. This is a beautifully written novel that looks into how violence affects not only the one that inflicts it on others but also the ripple effect it has on so many other people. There is also an examination, through the point of view’ of the women in this novel, about how our fascination with death usually disregards those who are murdered to focus on the killers. How many serial killers can you name off the top of your head, but not their victims? There are also comments on the criminal justice system, the death penalty, and justice.

This book is beautifully written and while it is marketed as a mystery thriller, I would say that it is more closely a literary crime novel. You start the novel knowing who the killer is and while the story unfolds to tell you what crimes he commits, I don’t think it is mysterious or thrilling. What keeps the tension in the novel is the countdown to the execution and how everything is going to unfold in the multiple storylines that are converging due to violence. While there are lines and a couple of scenes in this novel that are going to stick out to me (the fox scene in particular) I don’t think this story is going to stay with me after a year. There is nothing wrong with the writing, the pacing, or the plot, it just didn’t grip me enough to want to add it to my collection.

I appreciate that Kukafka gives up Ansel’s point of view in the second person, putting us in league with the murderer. It serves multiple purposes, but the one I find most interesting is that it makes us complicit with Ansel’s thoughts and actions. That itself is a comment on the true crime obsession, about how we are so interested and fascinated by their thoughts and motivations. Kukafka also contrasts with Ansel’s belief that he is brilliant and so much better than everyone else and the women who have to interact with him. Who hasn’t met a man who thinks that his thoughts are new and original when he is just regurgitating something he has heard before? I think the second person also speaks to Ansel’s lack of feeling, removing himself from being responsible for his feelings or actions.

All the women in this novel are complicated, well-rounded, and real. They are not perfect and sometimes they aren’t even likable, but their decision and thoughts make sense. I particularly liked Saffron’s point of view and how one item in her childhood followed her for so long, making her obsessed and causing her to make mistakes. The fact that the focus of all their sections was on how men failed them and how their relationship to other women defined them. Hazel and Jenny, Lavender and the women in her circle, and Saffron with the women that keep her sane with her job. They are given more personality than Ansel, are more reliable narrators, and show the violence in the world for women but also the lies that Ansel is telling the readers in his sections of the novel.

There are a lot of moral questions in this novel, about whether Ansel could be different or if any of the actions in the novel could have changed the outcome is one of them. While interesting to think about, it is not a new thought exercise. That is kind of the point, that Ansel’s ideas about the multiverse and his Theory, are nothing new. However, it also takes away some of the impact of the story. Letting go of ‘what ifs’ is a great bit of advice for everyday life, but in a fiction novel, it kind of makes everything fall a little flat. I appreciated that Kukafka makes statements about how the system is stacked against individuals who are not white cis males, but I don’t think it goes further than some statements. I also don’t think that the idea about the death penalty really goes in-depth either. I am not saying that this is a problem, this is a fiction novel after all, but if you are looking for a deep dive into these ideas, you will be disappointed.

This is a four-star read, but it will not be stuck in my head for a while. I would recommend this for people who are trying to get into the mystery or thriller genre if they are more of a literary fiction reader or as a palate cleanser from reading other genres.

#notes on an execution #danya kukafka #4 out of 5 stars #booklr #book review

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cmcsmen · 1 year

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Your Role As A Catholic Husband And Father

By Frank J Casella

While growing up my Father often said to me “You’re a Casella, and Casella’s don’t do that”. He was referring to how our words and actions create the identity of our name. In my hometown the 'Casella' family has a great reputation, now three generations deep.

Guy's, as Catholic men, we are given the responsibility to define what our (family) Name means for this generation. Because it is your name, as the husband and father, that your family is given. And, yes, the positive adjustments you make can have an impact three generations deep. So it is best that your family works to make it in life as a Man or Woman of God, not something else?

Men, we all make mistakes, and thus we need to example to our kids how to clean it up like spilled milk and move on. As the saying goes, 'the fastest way to success, is to replace bad habits with good habits'. Our job is to balance out what Mom says, because there is something about the voice of Dad that determines in our kids the image they see of themselves as a person and member of society ... and how they can see God as their Father.

Studies tell us that Dads determine the church habits of their children and thus to a signiﬁcant degree their eternal destiny. According to one study, if a father doesnʼt go to church no matter how faithful the mother is, only one child in ﬁfty will become regular church goers. And I might add that in our present culture our (adult) kids might go to church online.

We see in the Book of Deuteronomy how important it is for fathers to pass on the Faith in a visible way. Teaching the commands of our Lord to them should be second nature to us:

“Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Deuteronomy 11:19).

Many people believe the first role of a man, husband, and father is to provide and protect the family. However, our Catechism teaches our main role is to be a parent and to get our family to Heaven.

“The domestic church is a miniature community, united by blood and spiritual bonds … The family as a domestic church is the primary cell of the Christian community, because it possesses the three principal ministries of the Universal Church: sharing the Good News, praying, and witnessing with one’s life. This means that the parents are the first evangelizers and educators of their children. The family is a community of prayer, conversing with God in everyday life, and as it builds new relationships grounded in evangelical love, the family is called to become a school of social solidarity” (CUCC 654. 656).

In other words, a Father has the power to pass on blessings or curses to his wife and family. In order to be a blessing, though, we as men must first be open to receiving the blessings. Likewise, the reason I believe that God has his hands on America is that America from its founding has been Christian and pro-Israel.

Genesis 48:15-16 shows how blessing are spoken by Fathers:

15 Then he blessed them with these words:

“May the God in whose presence

my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked,

The God who has been my shepherd

from my birth to this day,c

16 The angel who has delivered me from all harm,

bless these boys

That in them my name be recalled,

and the names of my fathers, Abraham and Isaac,

And they may become teeming multitudes

upon the earth!”

Husbands, we shape the image of our wife by what and how we speak to her. Daughters will marry someone who disrespects her because our actions as her Father (to her Mother) illustrate to her this is how life works. Likewise, when we speak positive encouragement to our daughters about who she is as a person and a women, it gives her more confidence to be more than just a pretty face to men. Men, it's important to speak to our kids about their future by painting for them a picture of success, from God's perspective.

The relationships of parents greatly affects the psyche of our kids. Kids need to see us men hold our wife and kiss her in appropriate ways. Likewise, our sons and daughters need to have from us hugs and meaningful touches of affection otherwise they view us as authoritative. Although roles can overlap, Moms do the nurturing, but it is Dad who provides respect and stability in our kids by setting the mission for the family, not always long conversations but, little snippets of (Godly) wisdom.

Guys! As the father and husband, and priest of our house, we are to example and speak to our family about identity and what it means to be a (insert your Last Name here) ___________. Commit to correcting their path, and be patient for them to follow, as God is with us. God uses the broken experiences of our lives to turn it into His glory, if we are open to letting Him.

Receive these blessings and pass it on. You only fail when you give up.

Find encouragement from 'Bishop Perry’s Virtues of a Catholic Man', download it here.

Virtues of a Catholic Man

A Catholic man has some sense of what or whom he would die for if necessary.

A Catholic man passes his faith to his children and sees to their religious education.

A Catholic man informs himself about his faith, reads Scripture, select Catholic literature, and studies the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

A Catholic man insures that there are sacred symbols in his household, such as, a crucifix(es), Bible, use of sacramentals such as the Advent wreath, Christmas cre`che, etc.

A Catholic man leads prayer in his household at significant domestic events, such as, birth, Baptism, graduation, marriage, illness, death, and other special meals and events with use of a passage from Scripture or other Catholic sources.

A Catholic man practices presence with his wife and children.

A Catholic man invests himself in some project or apostolate at the parish or diocesan level.

A catholic man is faithful to his wife, his children, his Church and his friends, indeed all his commitments

Click here to download (PDF)

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lesser-mook · 1 year

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BNH Chapter 295-306 (Tomura deserving “Redemption” & Deku’s vanilla persona)

Some might think that Tomura deserves love, or solace-

Or the League should get redemption, because they weren’t written to be an archetype of evil like AFO. Like the contrast of them not being as bad as All For One is grounds to just absolve them or give them the Zuko treatment-

That’s a very naive, albeit very millennial mentality. You don’t get entitled to hugs or a do-over or owed something because Life bent you over, what you choose to do is your choice.

That’s the bitch of autonomy: Accountability.

You don’t dismiss a massacre because the murderer got tossed across the room at 3 years old / abused as a child, yes it sucks; Does it play into how they turned out? Yes, the party responsible also deserves bars.

-so does it excuse everything the murderer has chosen to do, fuck no.

We’re not a hive mind species, we’re individuals, you get charged on what you did, not what “they” did, that you can say- made you do what YOU did.

It’s moot.

DARTH VADER is leagues beyond AFO and Tomura put together, this man has ended family bloodlines on a galactic scale.

Yet, Vader’s turn to Anakin worked, because at no point:

Despite Luke’s hope that his Father could come back-

Despite Palpatine playing Skywalker like an instrument, so you could argue victimhood on Anakin’s part, could

Despite his Mother’s tragic end and how he dealt with that, & i say “dealt with” lightly-

Despite the heavy implication that Palpatine had a hand in his very BIRTH, and possibly the nightmares-

VADER was still culpable for his actions, he wasn’t owed shit. And we knew that.

At no point Is the story (post VADER) using child imagery or some misguided sentiments of righteousness to manipulate you into feeling sorry for the bastard enough to think he was owed something.

Even Revenge of the Sith trilogy while showing why he turned, and we do feel empathy for him- still wasn’t making him into some martyr; By the end of that movie, his most famous line was an exclamation of dismay because he slayed his own wife.

His choice. He’s the bad guy.

That’s why it worked, because Star Wars showed you how gone he was, it wasn’t up to Izuku Midoriya to Tomura or Luke Skywalker to “save” Vader.

The villain had to choose to save himself, just as he chose to turn in the first place and that’s what happened.

Now, Deku’s empathy isn’t the issue, he’s crazy yet boring as shit, and his love for his abuser really set me off but really- It’s his predictable nature and how Horikoshi presents that, without a threat.

He’s almost too consistent with this “save everyone” shit, too squeaky clean-

Even IIDA, our boy, our By the books Iida was willing to dip into the Dark side of the force.

Sure he spent most of his big fight with Stain with his goddamn face on the floor, but the concept was there, and his turn back to status quo made him more interesting-

Yes yet another character more interesting than Deku entered the chat, go figure.

It still made him more interesting because we saw a chink in the armor, flaws, where he’s willing to go.

Like a said in a previous post, a “Turning point”

SUPERMAN is stereotypically painted as Boy Scout central, right? That’s where you’re wrong.

DARKSEID, Mongul, & Brainiac are leagues beyond AFO, VADER, and Tomura- in terms of blood

And guess what?

Superman will kill these bastards if he has to, and depending on the situation, voices that he will.

adventures of superman 1987-issue-595

And just before this, for the sake of context, Superman was in warrior mode ready to mud wrestle Darkseid til dust and bone.

Darkseids son had to break up the fight because Supes wasn’t going to stop on his own.

NOW he’s going to go kill a “soul less” machine, but an intelligence nonetheless and words it specifically “Kill him”

Not kill it, as you would address something without a soul, KILL HIM.

This is the side of Superman nobody talks about, the darker human side, the side that keeps Batman up during the day.

The side that Zack Snyder gave almost too much attention to without counter balancing it WITH the humanity and hope that everyone in threads thinks is all there is to his personality..

Both sides, missing a piece of the entire picture of Superman

And this is the same Post Crisis who fought the Elite, trying to plea to them how important a code is, contradiction is also human.

There’s a big difference between mercy and reckless endangerment of others by letting the wrong person live.

Even All Might understood this, and was completely content with the prospect of having killed AFO for good when got his injury.

Sometimes you have to make that call, and it’s less about seeing it through than it is showing that the character is real enough to consider it-

And yes, show it as a bad thing but “this is where the character is”, is the point.

That’s leagues more interesting than, “I will save people because that’s what heroes do” or “You look like you needed saving“ to a mass murderer

See how tone deaf that is?

Imagine if Captain America & the Allies said this shit to Hitler.

Deku needs that chink, that nuance and no, loud mouthing people with an edgelord glare isn’t a chink. That’s standard preachy Shonen protagonist shit.

He needs to compromise that Halo above his head a little, it’s the natural progression his character should take after all the broken bones, horrors violence and warfare he’s seen in just under 12 months.

If Deku was going to initially kill Tomura, then showed restraint in an intense moment of reflection like Shuri, then good.

If Deku wants to save Tomura but then proceeds to kill him anyway because the fight got too heated, or to save his own ass or someone else’s life aka Life isn’t always that simple where things end like a fairy tale:

And then he has to deal with that, then that would be a game changer.

But Kohei’s LIKELY not going to that-

In 306 he finally leaves that goddamn box of a school and ventures out to do what all the street level greats in the West had to do:

FIGURE it out

Unfortunately, given Horikoshi’s knack for backtracking goldmine concepts he introduced in the first place-

Can’t wait to see how Deku ends up back on that goddamn campus lmfao.

Point being,

Tomura ain’t entitled to shit, Deku should take him out after thinking he could reach Tomura only to be smacked with a dose of harsh reality. OR deserves Prison or the Death penalty as does AFO (& he’s my favorite character) ffs.

Him dying in a fight with AFO wouldn’t be unexpected but it would be epic, nice turn of events given he’s not exactly AFO’s biggest fan as of 296 & onward.

The writing around Deku needs to bend a little, get his hands dirty, how he carries himself, and shake things up.

But i know a status quo reset will come, it’s just how many chapters will Horikoshi allow Deku to breathe without those other 18 goddamn students attached to his identity and almost everything he does.

And i exclude Ochako, because i actually like Ochako, so much wasted potential with that one.

And with redemption in mind, if Horikoshi went the extra mile of stupid to have the League of Villains side with the heroes and turned on AFO in the end, would not surprise me.

Tomura turning on AFO, is not me saying he should side with the Heroes. Not the same thing.

Tomura and AFO killing each other would be interesting to see, given how close they were before.

A weird parallel to the Sith rule of two, there can only be one or none at all.

#off my mind #my hero academia #darth vader #tomura shiragaki #izuku midoriya #superman #darkseid #mha notes

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authornina · 2 years

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It’s Just Not Adding Up

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Nicole stuffed everything into Melody’s bag while Dem played with her. She couldn’t deny the fact that her daughter loved him. She pulled out all the stops to make him less than the father he tried to be but Melody no matter how long her mother kept him away knew her daddy. It was like she never missed a beat when he’d come over.

“So, you’re bringing her back tonight, right?” Nicole asked him for the millionth time. She finally agreed to let Dem take Melody but of course there were many conditions. The biggest one was that she needed Haze’s address. Lake did not want to do that, but Dem wanted to see his daughter badly. If he could take Melody without the risk of it coming back on him, he would.

Technically, Lake was supposed to be there getting her, however, Avery wasn’t having that. The courts also made sure Nicole checked in with them every week in person to make sure everything was fine. Her stressing Dem’s violent tendencies really had them believing her life was in danger. Every agreement they did come to legally Lake was actually the one responsible for each one. Being Dem’s guardian made him just as liable for his actions.

“What the fuck did I say?”

“Let me know now if you gonna have an attitude because I’ll change my mind. I don’t need all that negative ass energy around my child!”

“Mommy!” KJ ran into the room bouncing a ball. “Hey Dem!” he smiled bright. He was four now and looked exactly like Ky.

“Wassup man?” Dem tried to give him some dap but KJ was always uncoordinated. “Like this bro,” he laughed showing him how to do it for the hundredth time.

Nicole watched them and even behind her hatred for Dem at some point a fondness for him came out of nowhere. It happened before she gave birth to Melody when he tried to apologize and help her with whatever she needed. Then it grew once she watched him hold their daughter. He even interacted with KJ and that was shocker because Nicole was sure he’d hate him just for being Ky’s.

“Wanna play basketball?” KJ asked Dem while throwing the ball to him.

“Aw man, I can’t today but I got you next time and don’t throw this around the house,” Dem said when he caught it. “You gon’ break some shit or fuck your lil sister head up.”

“Don’t use those words around him, Dem. He will repeat it.”

“Shut the fuck up bitch.”

Dem picked Melody up ready to leave. She was all smiles in her little yellow dress and clear sandals. Nicole liked to dress her chocolate baby in bright colors, and it brought out her beautiful complexion even more.

“That’s how you want your daughter to hear you speak to her mother?”

“It’s wrong unless you do it.”

“Whatever.”

“Can I go?” KJ asked staring up at Dem. “Please.”

“Not this time, baby,” Nicole told him. She felt so bad for her son and this was why her anger stayed consistent over everything. Dem and his brothers took a father away from his child with no remorse. She didn’t care what the issue was, Ky wasn’t the best person in the world, but he didn’t deserve that.

“Please…please,” KJ begged. He was always in the house with his mother or with his grandparents. Melody kept tapping Dem pointing down to her brother.

“I see him baby.” Dem stared at what technical was his nephew. “Ard man, come on, you can go.”

“No, it’s okay,” Nicole said genuinely not wanting her son to feel like an imposition on Dem.

“Mommy,” KJ pleaded. “Pleaseeeee…”

“It’s cool, he can come,” Dem told her. He could see the worry on her face. “Chill, I ain’t gon’ let shit happen to him.”

“Fine, go get your book bag, KJ.” Nicole gave Dem Melody’s stuff. “Can Mommy have a kiss sweet girl?” she asked Melody who leaned away. When her father was around, she didn’t want anyone else. “See how you got her actin’ already?”

“It ain’t my fault she love me more,” Dem rubbed it in. “Let’s go lil boy!”

******* “This girl is freakin’ gorgeous, look at all this beauty!” Haze squealed, twirling Melody around. “Poppy and Damaris, come sit so I can take all y’all picture together…Dem she is just breathtaking.” She kept holding Melody out and taking her all in.

“I know,” he smiled staring at his daughter. “KJ put that down, that’s for girls.”

Haze rolled her eyes not liking him trying to regulate Nicole’s other kid. He wasn’t his and she didn’t appreciate her putting KJ off on Dem like a step daddy. Shit like this was what made everyone side eye and doubt the fuck out of her. Who lets someone they claimed raped and beat them take not only his child but another one who even if by distant blood has no close relations to him?

Poppy and Damaris climbed on the couch. Poppy was a little standoffish towards Melody due to unfamiliarity, but Damaris immediately befriended her sister. When Haze sat her down with them Poppy moved away.

“Come on, princess, don’t be like that, this your sister,” Dem told her, but Poppy wasn’t trying to hear that. Poppy shook her head no and slid down to the floor.

“Sassy…” she tried to pull Damaris away with her making Dem and Haze crack up. Poppy and Damaris called each other Sassy. After hearing Ivy and Avery address one another as Sissy, they took it over.

“Stop being like that, Poppy.” Haze picked her demure child up, sitting her back on the couch and she started crying. “Girl bye!”

“Poppy, cut that shit out!” Dem scolded her. “She shouldn’t even be actin’ like this with her own sister. Exactly why I can’t stand that bitch.”

“Her butt stubborn and mean just like you,” Haze pointed out.

“No, she pretty with an attitude like your ass.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Haze blushed not caring about the other truth he told. There was knocking at the door and KJ ran to it like he was expecting somebody. “Lil boy! Aht aht! Kids don’t be answering no doors.” KJ took off running somewhere.

“Neither do you, fuck outta here,” Dem mushed Haze out of the way and she punched him in the arm. “Hit me again.”

“Open this door!” they heard Avery yell in excitement. “Oh my goodness,” she said staring at Melody in Dem’s hold. “Lake take Loire out, it is uncanny.”

“Can I go in the house first?”

Avery walked in not bothering to help Lake with jack shit. He had Loire in her car seat, River’s hand and the baby bag.

“Seriously A?” Haze laughed at her leaving Lake to fend for himself.

“He wanna be super dad, let him do everything. They don’t like me anyway. All I gotta do is push them out.” Avery sat her bag down. “Let me hold her, Dem.” She reached her arms out and Melody went right to her. “Awww, she’s a sweetheart.”

Poppy held onto Dem’s leg looking at her auntie hold Melody. She started crying again and he picked his baby up, comforting her.

“What’s wrong with my princess Poppy?” Avery asked. “Hi, my beautiful Damaris,” she spoke but got ignored. Her and River were occupied with their baby business. River brought her suitcase with wheels and already had her doll stuff unpacked.

“Her ass is spoiled,” Haze said, watching Lake take Loire out. She wanted to see her and Melody side by side too. “Oh shit, they look like the same babies! Except Loire just smaller. Wow…”

“I just…how?” Avery was stunned at her daughter and niece favoring one another. “This is crazy. I want another DNA test done to be sure,” she joked, and they all laughed. “Lake hold Melody so I can get a picture with the three of y’all.”

“They look like sisters,” Dem laughed.

Melody and Loire could pass for twins if there wasn’t an age difference. It was so funny to them how she looked nothing like Dem or her mother but his father, Lake and Loire, she was their quadruplet.

“No!” River ran up and tried to push Melody away from her father and baby sister. Before she could make contact, Avery grabbed her hand and smacked it. River looked right at Lake for extra effect and bawled her eyes out. She pointed towards her mother wanting her Daddy to do something.

“Anyway,” Avery said. “Dem she is beautiful. How long do you have her for?”

“Only today.”

River realized no one cared about her tantrum so she got up, wiping her tears and went back to playing like nothing happened.

“See Lake, I told you, feed into her and she will continue with her little attitude.”

“But you didn’t have to smack her hand.”

“Lake…” Avery shook her head. Her poor husband was a damn sucker for his daughters. She knew all of River’s tricks though because she too was a brat. They talked about this and Avery told him she was going to correct River one way or another. “I know that was hard for you to see baby, but it was needed.”

“It sure the hell was,” Haze agreed. “Poppy know better than to try me. I will tap her ass up. River gettin’ over on y’all.”

“When you got your ass whipped as a kid, did you do whatever it was you got in trouble for again?” Lake asked.

“A lot of times,” Haze shrugged.

“How old were you?”

“Ion know, I been gettin’ whoopings forever.”

“So tell me how that works…you was just gettin’ your ass kicked for doing shit kids do sweetheart.”

“I just think a little smack on the hand won’t do any harm. I mean, she’s okay, look,” Avery motioned towards her daughter who didn’t seemed phased one bit.

“River got it good then if that’s all y’all doing cause hand smacks turned into the belt, then shoes, hangers. I got knocked out, thrown down steps, beat with an extension cord—”

“My point proven,” Lake laughed, shaking his head listening to Haze describe child abuse. He was not about to let a muhfucka including himself who got the brakes beat off of him as a kid, change his mind. Plus, he had girls, in his head, dads don’t whip their daughters, mothers do but he still didn’t want Avery to put her hands on them neither.

Now Avery was starting to regret her decision. She hated when she got beat or harshly reprimanded as a child and didn’t want her children to experience that nor think being physically assaulted by anyone was okay. Maybe hits on the hand weren’t good either. Sometimes she really didn’t know.

“Don’t feel bad, A.” Lake could read her ass like a book. “You tried, it’s not for us.”

“Yea, why would you actually let me go through with it?”

“I had to teach you a lesson too. Now you done abused our daughter.”

“Don’t say that!” Avery pushed him. “I feel bad as hell…come give mommy a hug princess.” She got up, hugging her daughter who had forgotten about the whole thing already. River could be a handful but that was her angel baby.

“Hello?” Haze answered Dem’s phone like she paid the bill. “He right here, what do you need? Your daughter is fine.” She listened staring right at her baby daddy with a smile. “I will pass the message along.”

“What she say?” Dem asked.

“You got a lot of nerve not answering the phone while you got her children. She said never again and called you a bitch ass nigga.”

“Wait, children?” Avery questioned. As if on cue, KJ appeared from wherever the hell he went. She’d never seen him but the face, it was like seeing her ex in the flesh. “Oh…my…Lord.”

“Hi Lake!” KJ waved with the brightest smile.

“Sup man?” Lake put his hand out for some dap. He too had saw KJ on many occasions before Avery put a stop to him going around Nicole. “You ard?”

“Yea,” KJ answered doing his best to remember the handshake Dem taught him. “I wanted to come cause mommy boring. Dem fun and cool.”

“Dem is cool.”

“He bought me these cool shoes too, look,” KJ said lifting his foot, showing off his crisp white Air Forces.

“That’s wassup, you fresh man.”

“Don’t say nothing, A,” Haze said low. “I told Dem he dead wrong.”

“Hi…” Avery spoke to the handsome little boy and KJ smiled, waving. “You are so cute.”

“Thank you,” KJ blushed. “You pretty.”

“Awww…” Avery touched her heart. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Yo man, that’s my woman.”

“Sorry, Lake…” KJ apologized, trying to conceal his shy smile. “Your woman is pretty though,” he covered his mouth goofily.

“Thanks man.”

“Ard, go play bul,” Dem shooed him away and KJ ran off.

“I don’t understand how y’all operate at all,” Avery said, shaking her head in bewilderment. They wanted nothing to do with Ky, he’s dead because of them yet they interact with his child as the nephew he actually was to them.

“He a kid,” Dem shrugged.

“Why would she let you take him? I really don’t like that bitch. You do all this just to let the same person you swear has a contract on your head take both of your children?”

“She wanna fuck him, that’s why, A,” Haze inserted with an attitude. “Don’t no bitch allow shit like this if they want the dick, or gettin’ already,” she said rolling her eyes at Dem who sat quietly deciding not to say a word on the matter, but Lake read his little brother like a book.

******* Dem had to take Damaris back home too so it was late by the time he made it to Nicole’s house. Of course, he was greeted with all the attitude in the world. She should have been thanking him that she got some time to herself.

Nicole picked a tired KJ up and took him to his bedroom fussing the entire time about him having her kids out so late. Melody was knocked out in Dem’s arms.

“Shut your annoying ass the fuck up. If you just let me have my daughter, I wouldn’t have to bring her back so fuckin’ late.” Dem laid Melody in her bed, taking off her little shoes. She started whining when she realized he wasn’t holding her anymore. “It’s okay baby, lay down.”

Melody was standing up now, crying reaching out for him. Dem hated this part because it made him feel like a bad dad. If this were Poppy or Damaris, he’d just keep them another day with no problem. Melody was the consequences of his bad actions and he only regretted the way she happened.

“It’s okay boo boo.” Dem picked her up and sat in the chair. Melody was visibly tired, but she wasn’t falling asleep without him.

“You can leave now,” Nicole entered with a scowl on her face. She knew her daughter wasn’t having it because she’d spent many nights trying to get her to bed after Dem left. “Why did you take my son around all your baby mommas?”

“What you was questioning him? Like you really a nut ass bitch.”

“Don’t talk to me that way in front of my child!”

“I’m sure she heard worst out your dick suckers…just get the fuck out.”

“I don’t have to go anywhere in my own house!”

Dem ignored her, closing his eyes while rocking Melody. She was clinging onto him for dear life probably knowing when she closed her eyes, mostly likely when she woke up he wouldn’t be there anymore.

“I said you can leave.” Nicole was trying to get a rise out of him, but he had one of his calming mechanisms in his arms. Nothing could break through that. She stomped out the room then he heard a door slam.

“Your mommy gon’ make me kill her boo boo,” Dem whispered kissing Melody’s cheek.

Finally getting her to sleep, Dem carefully laid his baby down, taking off her dress and putting one of her little princess gowns on. He stood over her for a while wishing she could be with him all the time. The time would definitely come and he hoped Nicole wouldn’t make him get her the hard way because once his mind was made up, no judges or pieces of paper would be able to stop him from putting her ass six feet deep.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said, when he exited the room. Dem ignored her going down the steps and of course she followed. “Dem.”

“Leave me the fuck alone bro.”

“I apologized.”

“Yea,” he turned around. “Then you gon’ go right back to the same nut ass shit and for what?! The fuck you want from me? Ion owe you shit.”

“You don’t owe me?”

“No!”

“You don’t owe me? You don’t think what you did—”

“Here we go with the same bullshit.” Dem only accepted what she said happened because he wanted to be apart of his daughter’s life. There was no sense in constantly going back and forth with Nicole when he honestly didn’t remember. He just wanted to be a father to his child without her holding rape over his head.

“Because you refuse to acknowledge what happened.”

“Look, if you say so.”

“See, it’s if I say so. You don’t really feel bad!”

“I’m not about to cop to some shit deep down I don’t think I did. What proof you got but Melody? And all she proves is we fucked! I ain’t ever have to take pussy a day in my life! All of sudden you special? Ion care how fucked up I am. I’m not that nigga.”

“Wow…okay…well, I guess there isn’t much else to say.”

“I guess not,” Dem shrugged, turning to walk away.

“I don’t think this is working out we need to create more boundaries so I’m thinking that maybe—” her words were cut short by him slamming her ass into the wall.

“Look bitch,” Dem squeezed her neck. “On my daddy, you got one more time to go to that fuckin’ judge lyin’ and I’ma forget you her mother and put a slug right between your fuckin’ eyes,” he said poking his finger on her forehead. “Tell anybody anything other than you a lazy smut that got lucky and it’s over for you my nigga.”

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Note

omg imagine ..... rival heirs tae and oc who outwardly hate each other but grew up living next to each other so they're the only constants in each other lives in the middle of the cameras and media 💀💀💀💀💀💀 HRORHDODBRODJ i imagine it to be angsty and super smutty 👀👀👀👀👀

"Quiet," he growls, purposeful and deep just like the way each thrust of his hips has you whimpering in the dark room.

"F-Fuuuck, Tae—"

"I said quiet," he snarls, reaching a hand to your cheeks as he squeezes it in warning, forcing your teary eyes to look up at him.

In the dim room, you barely make out his features but you recognise the way his brows furrow with the bead of sweat that drips down the side of his face. You notice the way his jaw is clenched, a signal that he's close—or frustrated—the lines between the two were blurred for you. Ever since this thing started.

"It feels so—fuck, p-please Tae," you mewl, fingernails scratching down his back as he pounds into you harder against the wall behind you.

"God, won't you fucking shut up?" he hisses, though you know his words aren't malicious. Frustrated, yes. You were too, but you were too drunk on pleasure to care. "Do you want us to get caught? Is that it? Fuck everything up?"

His words are low and intentional, a desolate reminder that you were not free. That freedom was never a choice for either of you. The choices you had were predetermined from birth. Your identity, your friends, your life—the people you wanted. You never had a choice.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you whimper, "Tae—please—I-I c-can't—"

You barely know what you're moaning for, especially when his eyes bore into your own and you force them open despite the tears that cling to your eyelashes. His free hand reaches in between your legs to capture the swollen bud between his fingertips as rubs with vigorous intent to send you over the edge. He didn't draw it out because he couldn't; the two of you were living on borrowed time.

"You gonna come for me?" he murmurs, lips pressed against yours as you gasp, feeling the coil in your stomach unravel at a dangerously quick pace.

"F-For you," you sob, fingers tugging at his hair as you return his hot, open-mouthed kisses. "Always for you."

He doesn't comment on your mid-confession. It's nothing new, yet every time it leaves your lips, in the same scenario, you feel his hips stutter, thrusts faltering ever so slightly as he shoves himself impossibly deeper in you. As if he was trying to make a home out of your body.

"Come on, beautiful," he says softly, and for the first time of tonight, and certainly not the last in a while, you look into his eyes. There's a painful feeling in your chest that returns tenfold, but pleasure overruns your rationale as he sends you over the edge, again. "Let me see you fall apart, yeah?"

You nod manically, walls fluttering around his shaft as both of your moans rise in harmony, echoing against the walls of the supply closet you shoved yourself into. Between the four walls and dusty apparatus, your feelings were honest, were valid.

With one last push and the heat of his lips against yours—you cum. Splotches of white paint your vision as you gasp, high pitched and breathless into his awaiting mouth while he murmurs words of encouragement to guide you through your euphoria. Your body heats with more than just his sweat-stained chest pressed against yours; it heats with how your heart ignites with long-suppressed desire, repression of a woman who's only ever had choices made for her.

"That's it," he croons, much gentler than how he had fucked you so good just moments prior. His actions are tender, like a lover who's promised you forever. You know that it's just an illusion, it's what he does best. "Beautiful."

The fall after amazing heights is the most painful. You hurt the most, bleed the hardest and remember the pain. It's searing. Yet, there's something about a memory so devastating that forces you back into situations that bring you to your demise. It's the adrenaline—it's the addiction.

When Taehyung slips out, as always, he helps you get dressed and suddenly it's cold and distant. Your dress is slipped over your body, covering the evidence of his hands on yours, and your heels make way to your feet once again.

It's quiet when the two of you dress, the echoes of your moans only remain a memory as your heart sinks further in the ocean of your emotions.

"I love you," you confess, and it's the first time you've said it out loud but the millionth time you've felt it.

His hand stop before it reaches the knob, and you know his answer before he even gives it to you.

"I'm taking over my father's position next week."

It's like cold water has been dumped over you, immobilising every one of your limbs as you're forced to stare at the back of his head, hair ruffled as the evidence of your secret affair. A rendezvous went bad, with one heart in while the other remains out of bounds. It's easy to say who is who.

"You—what?" you whisper, not wanting to believe it. Not wanting to trust the person you were taught your entire life to be wary about. The circumstance of his last name and yours being different. "You said—you said you would ..."

He would what? The secrets he's whispered in the middle of your heated moments? Driven by lust and desire and never logic?

"I lied," he shrugs, easily and unbothered as if your entire world wasn't falling apart. The look he sends you is unforgettable, to you at least. It's the one that forces your tears out. "I needed leverage."

His confession hurts more than yours. It's because you've somehow trusted that he would forgo the life he was born into for love—for the unlikely pairing that came out of this rivalry between your families.

He finally turns the knob, pausing briefly as you're stunned to silence, tears there but not quiet.

"You're just like your father," you say quietly.

You know it stings because Taehyung sucks in a deep breath.

"You became the one person you swore you'd never be."

The silence is unbearable. His response is even worse.

"See you in court," he bids you farewell like that, the remainder of his cum still dripping down your thighs.

And when you walk out, back into the crowd of socialites while champagne and diamonds are thrust into your face—you're forced to do the one thing you were born to do. Pretend.

Pretend that your world wasn't falling apart and that the man you loved was the man that would ruin your life.

Maybe, you should've listened. Maybe, there was a reason why you were taught to hate a Kim.

#taehyung requests #taehyung drabble #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung drama #taehyung unrequited love #enemies to lovers taehyung #enemies to enemies taehyung #bts drabble #bts angst #bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #Kim taehyung smut #Kim taehyung angst #Kim taehyung drabble #Kim taehyung request #rival!taehyung #rival!tae

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Text

george weasley smut alphabet

george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: at this point i don’t even know what to write, seggsy things

a/n: that took 3 days holy shit

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

ok molly taught him to be respectful alright, always treat your lady well. kisses, showering, praise, love, affection, cuddles. the whole nine yards, not one step left behind.

“c’mon, dove, y’gotta get up. please, f’me?” the boy slightly-slurred, pulling up your hair slightly damp from sweat, grasping it all into double french braids. showering you, meanwhile showing you immense praise and affection; kissing from your ankle points all the way to the apple of your cheeks, and dressing you in the process.

“mhmm, don’t wanna.” you proceeded to mumble, your body begging you to sleep and rest; feeling immense of exhaustion from previous rounds. finishing the braid in your hair, the red head picked you up and placed you onto the red-plaid comforter of the bed.

your body starting to meld with the mattress, and breathing becoming heavier almost delving your subconscious into the realm of sleep; feeling him slip under you and place your head right on his bare skin, feeling the bone of his sternum.

“did i... did i do well?” you murmured through fatigue, yearning to feel the warmth and affection of your boyfriend while his heart beat lulled you like a baby from a lullaby to a deep hearted sleep.

“you’ll always do perfect for me, forever ‘n ever.”

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ok so, he loves his hands. they’re big, and skinny, and his fingers are long. i mean he catches you looking at them all the time so it also happens to be a nice ego boost. george’s self esteem has kinda always been there but it hasn’t been amazing, but when you came in the picture then it was like 📈

“george, georgie, please. s’too much, too much.” your vision had been immensely bleary for the last few minutes due to pleasureful tears dripping from your waterline. your fingers tried to find the closest thing they could grapple at, george’s hands.

after three continuous rounds, george had been finger fucking you for the last thirty minutes pushing you to vast overstimulation. you had the feeling of pins and needles dance upon your cunt; the waves of pain and pleasure mixing into your nervous system and sprawling throughout your entire body.

you grasped ahold of his ivory-toned hand, trying to beg for his mercy; yet none was shown, this was your punishment. he reclined his hand that had a tense hand on your thigh, now directly on your abdomen pressing you back onto the messy comforter bed keeping his hand placed there.

seeing the arch of your spine in his direct view, seeing your face slightly contort in delectation as he hit the g-spot with the pads of his fingers. feeling the intense pride on how he could get you, so delighted and filled with pleasure at his decree.

“taking it like such a good girl, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

he likes tits, i mean... HE GIVES THE VIBE. like if he could he would hold them, squish them, kiss them, mark them in anyway he wanted FOREVER. which he would, but he couldn’t 24/7 so he took his opportunities when he could.

“hello george, how are you? i’m great, thanks for asking.” you chortled with intense sarcasm after your boyfriends sudden disruption from your reading and dramatically bursting into your dormitory and shoving his face into your chest beneath your his t-shirt.

“shhh, i need a minute of peace please.” he hushed you, feeling his lips suck a little on the flesh of your sternum, his voice incredibly muttered from the smothering of your boobs onto his mouth. feeling the vibrations from his lips send a mini-shockwave through your spine and attempting to repress an overdue shiver.

he left light kisses, from his previous red splotch, as he moved more underneath your shirt praising your skin as you chuckled a bit. his ginger hair tickled your neck as he continued, “my tits are peaceful?” you questioned, yet again in a sarcastic tone awaiting his response.

“yea, immensely.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) (isa i could kiss u for this one)

so, messy messy man. on your tits, on your thighs, on your face, on your STOMACH, on your ass and his fave.... inside of you <3 he just loves to see it on you, it turns him on again no matter how many times you’ve been at it.

que: birth control potions, because i’m pretending they exist and creampies are fun.

“gonna— gonna finish, where d’you want me?” the boy heaved while doing continuous thrusts deep into the walls of your cunt. furthering your grasp onto the clenched biceps and forearms that laid tense beside your perspired face.

“inside me, please. want it inside me.” your voice was winded and huffed, feeling the euphoric pleasure crinkle and bend onto your nervous system from your orgasam lull you into a relaxation, while your boyfriend continued to thrust into your overused cunt of the night.

feeling his tepid release stick into the planes of your thighs and a light sheen layer onto the lower abdomen of your torso. feeling the dripping of his cum directly laid upon your skin. the contrast between his release and your flesh looking almost exquisite in his view point.

you were so beautiful, so beautifully messy.

currently clenched around his prick you felt the tremble in his cock as he released into the velvet walls of your cunt, remaining inside of you as he caught his breath between his lungs from his swift thrusts.

“gonna keep you all full, yeah?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

george is in fact, a switch. like when he’s dom, he’s soft dom. but when he’s sub, he’s whiny and extremely forward in begging. it took him awhile to tell you because he felt embarrassed but after that you guys had a lot of... fun ;)

“please, please, ‘m sorry. i promise!” he griped, pulling on the silk on his restraints regulating the control of his wrists that laid on his lower back. “but georgie, isn’t this what you wanted? to be punished?” you sent a faux pout in his direction, your finger tips dancing upon his clenched torso once again edging the boy upon his ration.

“but, but—“ the boy faltered whilst speaking, trying to excuse his actions of venturing to grasp your attention whilst you were busy with another task, and disregarding you both friends pleas. “c’mon, georgie. you were bad, this is your punishment; if i hear anymore you won’t cum for a week.” you chastised, seeing his eyes widen in fright and obnoxiously nod his head in compliance.

your brought your hand back to his prick, thumb slightly outlining the slit in his tip; his most sensitive spot causing a small groan to escape his lips subconsciously, his back slightly melding off of the mattress and arching into the air at your pressure.

attempting to repress his pleasureful shivers that were scratching at his sensorium, his cock basically at your dictation for his release.

“you’re being punished, not pleasured.” you chastised once again, sprawling you hand on his abdomen pushing his back directly onto the ridged comforter once more.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

so people would agree to disagree, but george lost it first. i don’t think george would do one night stands, they were always with past girlfriends but you are the girl he truly put his all into.

“and you’re sure?” the boys frantically questioned once more, he had been previously skittish about if the both of you were ready to go into the next stage of your relationship; wanting your full consent to continue with anything.

and worrying that some kinks he had in mind might’ve been to much for future references, and just yearning for you to feel as comfortable as possible.

“told you, georgie, i want all of you.” the question was heaved through your words from the foreplay that had taken a gust of your air right out from under of you.

“we’ve talked about this darling, ‘m ready.” adding on to your comment, reassuring the boy who seemed to be faintly timorous on his next action that was soon to take place. you caressed his forearm, feeling the rigid bends of his veins over the pads of your finger tips. your other hand maneuvering itself on the curvature of his neck and bringing his lips to slot with your own.

feeling the comforting and familiar taste of pumpkin and cinnamon transfuse onto your tongue in the midst of feeling his plush lips blend with yours.

“i’m ready, want you inside of me.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

any position where he can see your face, he can see your body, he can see all of you. he wants to kiss you, mark you, caress you. he wants everything he wants to feel so connected with you.

“you my darling.” he spoke, sighing as he spoke. in between words of his affirmations, splotching small kisses that bore on the planes of your lower abdomen and shifting his way up your bare-body.

“are the most ethereal thing, to ever exist.” the boy continued in his wake of appraisal, of your complete quintessence and soul.

“i love you.” you whispered in a small, barely audible murmur in appreciation of the red head you had been destined with. he was truly put in your path of life to give and receive love and adoration. “i love you.” the boy whispered back at your confession, muffled into the flesh above your sternum.

continuing to leave small vermillion hues of colour, making his way to the the junction of your neck and resuming with his praises of adorations of your complete essence.

the scarlet-haired boy was completely entranced with every element of your being, almost besotted with your every move. always wanted to praise, and adore every aspect of you in anyway he could possible.

“no, i love you more.” he corrected himself, undeserving of your mutual appreciation.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

healthy use of both. sometimes you guys have your super serious moments and other times you guys are giggling together.

“oh merlin, i really hope fred did not hear that.” you spoke through a sporadic chortle, your previous whimper being a little bit too raucous. the both of your wands misplaced and unable to cast a muffling charm meant you and george had to be as quiet as possible.

“y/n, he definitely did. let’s hope he’s asleep.” george making an effort to whisper but his own disgustingly humours mind getting too himself and letting chuckle slip out from his lips mid-sentence.

“i didn’t say stop, keep going!” you hastily spoke, sending a cheeky grin in faux annoyance at him as he continued his slow but intensely deep thrusts in your pulsing cunt, the both of you close to a release.

you were deeply trying to muffle your pleasureful noises from the palm of your hand, but discreetingly failing as you let another strangled moan bubble from your vocal cords.

both you and george looking at eachother frantic for a moment, completely silent and worried if one of his dorm mates had heard the both of you. silent for a moment then chuckling together whilst bumping noses at the voyeuristic acts that were being taken place in his very bed.

“oi, some of us are trying to sleep here!”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

yes the fucking carpet matches the damn drapes HE HAS A CARROT CROTCH DO NOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. as for grooming, i think he just just have a stubble? like i don’t feel like he cares to much about hair so he would just shave most of it off. as for u he does not give a fuck, as long as you like yourself he likes you so it does not matter at all for him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

ITS GEORGE WEASLEY IF UR NOT EXPECTING ROMANCE AND INTIMACY 89% OF THE TIME GO REEVALUATE. i’m not saying he’s not rough or not kinky, but he’s very intimate with you especially during aftercare. if he’s feeling special, like on anniversaries, birthdays, or days he wanted to make you feel really really good he would bring out rose petals, floating candles i mean he would WHIP OUT A LAVENDER OIL DEFUSER OR SOMETHING?

the floor was coated in tons vermillion bloomed rose petals, the scent of cinnamon and fresh linnen was intense through the air of the newly-cleaned dormitory, the fresh ivory bed made and the pillows slightly puffed to perfection.

“just, y’know, one last birthday surprise?” the red-head boy muttered staring at the scarlet-shaded floors whilst attempting to distract himself by fumbling his clammy hands into the pockets of his overworn grey slacks.

“d’you like it?” george continued to mutter, his eyes staggering around the room he had prepared for you both that night so he could kiss, cherish and adulate your entire being till the depths of early morning sunrise.

“georgie, i— i love it.” you felt perspiration sting in the waterlines of your eyes as you stammered slightly in shock, intense adoration and tenderness hastily speeding through your bloodstream hitting you directly into the warmth of your heart.

facing said-boy, you looked at him with complete fondness, grasping upon of his hand that was resting in his slacks now in the palm of your own comically-smaller hand.

“it’s truly amazing.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

gonna be honest here, not really. unless he wasn’t seeing you for like weeks, like during a holiday or something. even then i feel like he would imagine you were doing it to him, like whenever he was feeling needy he would normally just go to you and you were more than happy to oblige to his request.

“oh— fuck me.” the boy groaned while stroking his cock in quick circular motions, the other hand preoccupied with a risqué polaroid photo of you that you had sent him in the mail during the winter holidays.

it wasn’t the easiest being away from him during the winter holidays and his randomly occurring hard-ons apparently happened to occur more frequently without a desirable girlfriend around and more time to use your undesirable hand.

attempting to finish himself off fairly quickly so he could scoundrel himself back to bed counting the days till you would dramatically reunite on the hogwarts express and more than likely pull you away from peering eyes for a quickie in the bathroom.

just the thought of your beautiful skin melding with his own in the humid air of the bathroom made him spurt his release all over his prick and a groan emerging from his throat in the process.

“fuck.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

he has a innocence kink.... like the thought of teaching you everything like in bed makes his mind go WEEE WOO WEEE WOOO

now i shall elaborate

“pretty girl, does it feel good?” he crooned into the shell of your ear, feeling the tense grasp of your agile hands on his clothed biceps where his dress shirt laid on him and suddenly crinkled from your clasp onto him.

“mhm— yes, yes georgie.” you gasped mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from the new sensations that had washed over your nerves, feeling new pleasureful burning sensations in the pit of your abdomen and run along the curvature of your spine.

attempting to suppress small moans you continued petite chokes of air in ecstasy feeling george’s pads of his fingers dance upon your clit. “oh— fuck.” you muttered in a form of a bleary headspace trying to manage a coherent thought.

the red-head grinned in gratification, your full pleasure at his decree, knowingly giving you these new sensations. “i thought you were an innocent girl, now you’re my dirty one?” the boy mocked at your trembling figure in his lap.

“maybe you’re not my innocent girl after all.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

in my head.... he likes voyerism. don’t ask me why but the thrill of someone catching y’all 🤪

so i will no would have to say that he likes his dormitory a lot but i also feel like he likes the common room couch.

“oh, fuck—“ the moan has blossomed out of your throat and tinged in the previously solemn and peaceful common room, but now the air felt humid and extremely titillating common room that had been used for social and cuticular activities now being used for intercourse.

“darling if you’re not quiet we’re going to be caught.” the vibrations of his words directly muffled onto your perspired flesh, due to his manipulation of your body strictly at his will. “so good, daddy, so so good.” the words mildly uttered from your throat due to the infrequent gasps of pleasure between your words.

the both of you fused together passionately on the snug common room sofa in the late hours of the night, to be caught in a very comprising position by a student or supervisor if not subtle enough. the fire being your only production of light source throughout the entire room, dismissed in the backround close to being burnt out entirely.

“but daddy, you make me feel so good.” you’re voice tinged into a slightly higher pitch, feeling his deep thrusts enclosed inside of your cunt, your attempted muffles of rising gasps and lament whimpers to be heard significantly prominent throughout the walls of the vermillion shaded common room.

“awe slut, you want everyone to know how i’m making you feel?”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

so since georgie is a switch i feel like most of his motivation comes from when you’re bossy, outside of the bedroom. telling him what to do, how to do it, having to fix it for him. because either he’s gonna punish you for thinking you can be in charge or he’s gonna do literally everything you tell him too without a second thought.

“ok so for today, we’re not playing around here, you finish your charms, then we have lunch, we do transfiguration together, play some quidditch with fred, eat dinner, and then free period to do whatever we want, got it?” your hastily speeding voice catching the attention of his ears and consuming every single word that you had to say.

you glanced at him for a moment, his eyes slightly out of zone but still attentive to your words, also wanting to distinguish if he had been following to the list you had for the day so he could ultimately stop procrastinating and get his work done.

“yeah, er, i got it.” george spoke awkwardly for a moment, trying to discreetly shuffle around his body at the feeling of immense amount of pressure and tensity starting to form around his groin.

you raised a brown, you’re forehead slightly creasing as you tested the waters at his slightly timid figure and lack of response. “do i need to make you repeat it back to me.” tilting your head, trying to pan off as more intimidating so the red-head would coherently listen to you rather than pawn off and work on a prank with his mischievous-twin.

“no, no— i’m fi— you’re fine.” he groaned and he hesitated mid-sentence aiming to speak as casually as possible, moderately shuffling around his pants as he spoke at your firm and unyielding tone with him.

“you’re sure? because if you’ve got it wrong i’m going to upset, got it?” your voice at an adamant expression, annunciating that everything for the day was going to be smooth sailing rather than difficult and irritating for either of you.

“no, i understand.” he cleared his throat in compliance, aiming to remove any unnerving tension that might be there as he awkwardly trailed behind you to the library.

not to mention with a rock hard cock just sitting in his plants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes. “bUt pArIs” NO. he would not want to share you, he had literally had to share everything his whole life and seeing his twin brother or literally anyone else pleasure you is a big fat NONO

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he’s a giver, if u say no, ur lying. hearing you go literally whimper, tremble, moan at HIS will that’s enough for him to cream his pants.

“georgie— fuck. keep going.” your praised the boy deep between your legs, your words of appraisal going straight to his groin area whilst you threaded you fingers directly into his damp ginger locks.

feeling his tongue swirl directly onto your engorged clit, small gasps emitting from your mouth as his face was buried into your cunt for the last hour. the exceedingly amount of ecstasy built up into a broiling pit in your belly and ready to explode at any given moment.

“‘m gonna cum, gonna finish.” you gasped, feeling his tongue prodding at your entrance, his thumb placed directly onto your swollen cunt and swirling in figure eight like motions to make your orgasam rapidly occur.

his prick immensely hard, beseeching for a release. his nearest output being the subtle grind of his hips and the soft mattress of the bed as you continued to sensually yank at his hair.

feeling the overflow of desire, the whimpers exceeding from your lips and the pressure against his cock made his orgasam occur midst your own; finishing together the only thing to be heard was your heaving breaths and george’s hoarse voice from not speaking for the last while.

“so, i might’ve just done something.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

i feel like he’s very medium paced, he’s not to fast nor slow. he has his moments where it’s very slow and loving or if he just lost a quidditch game and it’s very fast in rough. i don’t think it’s set on just one i think it varies.

“needy little slut, just wanted me so badly, hmm?” the grit in george’s teeth prominent as he spoke to you, the tensity of his hands on grip of your waist also clinically distinguished as he pulsed in and out of your from behind.

“fuck— please.” the begging was evident in your tone, feeling the grasp on your waist and he plunged into you emitting gasps every few seconds from desire. his hand grasped onto the root of your tresses, your cheek melding with the mattress and a moan exploding from your trachea at his aggressive demeanour.

“please—“ you continued you beg, not for anything in specific but the feeling of him to continue his thrusts and not falter his pace. the feeling of being exceedingly full of him, the explicit belligerent emotion he was feeling and turning that into passion.

knees bucking at his will as he continued the fast and thrown pace that was previously endured. feeling the ecstasy rome freely through your veins as he degraded you.

“my slut, so dirty.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

so... george wants to appreciate you fully. and i don’t think either of you would be so horny that he had to just pull you in a broom closet. even if it’s fast and rough aftercare is still extremely keen to him after having sex no matter the circumstances so i don’t think he would be into quickies.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) - this was in fact somewhat inspired by 50 shades of grey

george is the kinkier twin. there i said it, and i will not change my mind. yeah he’s more quiet whatever more emotional, throughful BUT THOSE ARE ALWAYS THE ONES WHO ARE KINKIER. i so as long as you were cool with it i feel like he would be as-well.

“so you wanna play, dove?” running the tip of the small blade down the depth of your torso, and across your abdomen seeing the heaving rise and fall of your torso. the slight scarlet-coloured ribbon peaking from underneath the arch of your back that restrained both of your wrists.

“yes, sir.” the mumble was stern, and tense but slightly heaved from apprehension on what he would do with the tip of the stygian-coloured blade that was held in his ivory hand. your safe word explicitly-clear before he had restricted your eyesight.

a slow light vermillion trailed in its wake from the tip of the blade that moved across the skin of your navel. he heard the audible gasp release from your mouth in anticipation.

“keep going, please.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

so i feel like george goes for like.... 3? but he definitely does foreplay and stuff too. so it’s like a healthy mix of a lot. so a couple of rounds, sometimes more, sometimes less, it all depends on the time like early in the morning or really late at night.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

so, i don’t think so. so the only thing i feel like he would have is like ropes/ties and blindfolds. other than that i don’t think so, but fred has definitely gifted you something just for the kick of it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i feel like it depends if he’s more sub or more dom. if he’s dom he will tease you all he likes just to see you squirm, but if he’s sub then he definitely will wants you to tease him.

“georgie, please, i cant take it anymore.” you pleaded, your tone was soft but irritated, the continuous edging was extremely displeasing for you. you wanted him, you wanted to feel every withering inch of him, his body, his essence; but he simply wouldn’t give it to you.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one who ‘said patience is a virtue.’ you’ve got to be patient then, right dove?.” george made a mockery of something you had in a different context but instead he used it to his advantage.

his middle finger crept its way back to the depth of your navel and right on your cunt, starting recurrent swirls on your engorged clit. feeling a similar sensation that you had previously endured till your denied orgasam.

“be patient, or you won’t be getting anything.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

i feel like it’s a lot of grunting and dirty talk, or even just praising. there’s more moaning when doing oral. it’s not necessarily loud but you can clearly hear it.

“my pretty little witch.” the words of appraisal blossomed from his mouth as he kissed upon the column of your neck and the bend of your shoulders. he proceeded to kiss around the shell of your ear and speaking.

“nobody can make me feel the way you can.” george murmured making sure you know, followed by a pleasureful grunt by the way your cunt was continuously clenching around his cock and the way your hand grasped at his lower back.

“oh, merlin—“ your voice sounded like a gasp, arching your back directly into his freckled chest from his prick prodding at your cervix, you’re breathing was heaved from his continuous thrusts that faltered as he was close to release and exceedingly praised into your perspired skin.

“i love you so much.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

george likes pda. i’m not talking like sex in the great hall or obnoxiously making out in the courtyard but he does like to show everyone that you are together.

“georgie if you kiss me again fred is going to throw up.” the murmur sent vibrational waves into the boys cheek your own affections shown at the proximity between you both, partly because the incessant chatter of the great hall.

“and? you’re my girl.” the statement was clear as day in his eyes, he wanted to show everyone just how much he loved you, the intimacy in the situation between two teenagers who were in love; he didn’t care what anyone else had to say.

you looked at him for a moment with challenging eyes, seeing the intimacy in his own cocoa-coloured ones. poorly making an effort to suppress a grin at his affections.

he took his opportunity to press a kiss to your plush-smooth lips, then the hued rose coloured flesh on your cheek, then the tip of your pointed nose.

“i love you, i won’t not show that because my git brother doesn’t like it.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i feel like it’s a bit bigger than average, probably around 8in when hard? i think it’s more longer than thicker.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i mean..... he’s a teenage boy. i think it’s average like i don’t think he’s dying to have sex every second but he does in-fact like to appreciate you in more ways that one. because sex for him isn’t just a way to get rid of a hard on it’s a way to appreciate your body and just you in general.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like it depends on how hard the both of you went, because you guys could either end up talking for hours or simply just cuddle and fall asleep.

“‘m so tired, georgie.” you murmured into the boys bare chest, stroking the side of his torso as the both of you laid below his his fitted sheet bed. the time around twelve am and your eyes desperate for sleep.

“sleep, darling. i’ll be here in the morning to wake you up.” he uttered. his voice fairly hoarse and rough, whilst stroking your back feeling the wrinkle in the shirt he had given you. fairly prideful that you had been wearing something of his.

“love you, georgie” you wiped your nose while speaking, feeling love and adorned by the boy you were cuddling with; wanting these solemn peaceful moments forever.

“love you more, forever ‘n ever.”

taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

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zuluc · 4 years

Text

@ukiiyo requested: so ive become a major diluc simp and i was wondering, could i get a scenario of diluc getting jealous that his s/o hangs out more with kaeya than with him? just need me some wholesome diluc fluff🥺👉👈

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: diluc’s jealous haha, kind of suggestive at the end :p

notes: i too have fallen down the hole of simping for diluc and i regret nothing,,, anyways i like this scenario because it got me thinking of how exactly he would react (ft. kaeya noticing and fanning the flames of jealousy [aHA get it]) and i’m hERE for it; i hope you like it!

The first time it happens, Diluc is mildly annoyed from having his time with you shortened.

He’s already staring holes into Kaeya the moment he steps into the tavern. His brother, or rather adopted brother, has a cheeky grin on his face when he pulls out the stool next to you, abruptly interrupting your conversation with Diluc. You weren’t talking about anything in particular, just a casual conversation that Kaeya did not hesitate to bring you out of.

“Say, y/n,” he leans in closer to you with his chin resting in his palm, “would you like to accompany me to Springvale?”He looks at you expectantly before quickly darting his gaze to Diluc and back to you. The tavern owner raises a brow.

“What business do you have there, anyways? And with them, no less.” He places the glass he was cleaning on the counter and glares straight ahead.

“Don’t worry over it,” Kaeya says simply, “come now, y/n, before it gets too dark.” He stands up and makes his way out the door, his hand waving in behind him. You give Diluc an apologetic look and look at the side at the people in the tavern. They’ve been drinking away all night and should be a little too disoriented to know what is going on.

But it wasn’t like they weren’t aware about what was going on between you two.

You lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek and pull back, “I’ll see you later.” You hop off the stool and follow Kaeya. Diluc clicks his tongue in annoyance, Charles coming up behind him just in time to see your figure leave out the door.

“Oh,” the older man says, “I thought they’d be staying longer.”

“Hm,” Diluc only returns to cleaning the glass, unaware of the knowing look Charles is giving him.

The second time is when he’s walking around Mondstadt. And he is aware but does not accept it for the sake of his pride.

Diluc expected to see you as you also had business with the knights, something he was a bit skeptical about, but what he didn’t expect is for you to be hanging around the cryo holder again.

Your face is bright and you’re laughing at something the male says as you both walk to Good Hunter. You don’t notice someone staring at you, but Kaeya does. Being the ever-so cunning, Kaeya smirks at the redhead and ushers you to take a seat at the table. Diluc cannot visibly hide his annoyance this time and there’s a pang in his chest.

Oh, no. Not because of him of all people...

You didn’t visit him again after the night at the tavern and it had been a few days since, only greeting him when you pass by in the streets when all he wants to do is wrap you in his arms. And now the annoying one is hogging all your attention?

He is about to approach the both of you until Kaeya his hands on your shoulders, making you face him. Diluc steps back and scoffs.

He had plans for the day anyways. The Abyss Mages weren’t going to kill themselves off, right? He internally rolls his eyes at the thought and turns around to pass by the general store and out the side entrance.

“Are you sure it’s going to work? It’s nice right? He’ll like it?” You’re bombarding the knight with numerous questions and he can’t but sigh. Kaeya places his hands on your shoulders to stop you from rambling on again. It was cute that you were so worried over doing something for Diluc after all.

It was simple: it’s his birthday soon and you wanted to plan something special. You wanted to cook for him and travelling around the towns (Xiangling had left for Liyue a few days ago and you had no time to get there, ask for assistance, and get back). Neither Lisa nor Amber had much interaction with Diluc and Jean kept everything to a professional level. The only one that you could have thought of to help out was Kaeya since they were “close” to say the least.

Luckily, he was more than happy to assist.

“Yes, yes, and yes. I’ll tell you now, he’ll appreciate it, especially if it comes from you,” he looks to the side to see that Diluc is gone.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, also turning your attention to the area Kaeya is looking towards.

“No, nothing. Let’s finalize what you have, shall we?”

The third and final time is when he’d had it. There’s no denying that there’s something else going on.

You’ve been actively avoiding him now, making up excuses of helping clear out slimes near the bridge or things like that. Diluc only nods in response when you rush past him, but can see out the window that you’re meeting up with Kaeya.

Needless to say, he is in a bad mood.

There are numerous tasks for him to finish at the winery and even if he wanted to see you he couldn’t since he wasn’t in town. The only thing he’s hanging onto are the words you say to him before he leaves.

“Come to my home later, there’s something I want to show you!” You sounded excited and so proud of yourself that he couldn’t refuse.

Well, he couldn’t refuse anything you asked of him anyways.

The day felt long and his patience was wearing thin. The last paper on his desk is finally placed neatly atop the pile he worked through for countless hours. Diluc sighs before cleaning up to arrive quickly into town to be able to see you faster. You always make his days better and the sight of your face relaxes the tension he holds in his shoulders.

He makes it to Mondstadt in record time and your house is close, all the while he can hear some of the townspeople greet him. But apparently he’s only aware of the “Good evenings” or “hellos” not the “Happy day of your birth!”

You come into his view, then he sees Kaeya next to you.

At this point all self-control has gone out the window and he makes no eye contact with the other male before pulling you by the wrist and into your house. You are shocked, especially when Kaeya winks from behind Diluc before the door closes.

“Diluc--”

“What have you been doing with him?” His voice sends chills down your back as his gaze holds yours steadily. You try to look at the walls, or anywhere, instead of his eyes but he holds your chin to make you look at him. He has you backed up against the wall, his other hand still holding onto your wrist.

Diluc is suddenly aware of a certain aroma in your house and he eyes you suspiciously, turning his head to look behind him. There on your dining table was an immaculate dinner. You took many hours to make the food and make it look pretty all for this moment.

“Uh...happy birthday?” You supply sheepishly when he diverts his attention back to you. He holds yet another staring contest before resting his face in your neck.

“I figured you were getting too close to him...” he mumbles, letting go of you wrist to wrap both of his arms around you. You reciprocate the action, still confused at his sudden change in tone.

“I just wanted to make you something nice,” you say in a quiet voice. He pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he kisses your forehead.

“Thank you,” but he’s still a little peeved, “but why him?”

Then you put the pieces together, a smile on your face forming. He never outright said anything about this, never being the person to share his feelings so quickly, and you wanted to see how he would respond. “Were you perhaps, jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything and you think you took it too far, but he elicits a gasp from you when he lifts you by holding your thighs, pressing you against the wall. Well, it was a while since he was with you.

“Yes,” he whispers into your ear,

“...very.”

His grip on you is strong and you look longingly at your hard work.

The food ended up becoming cold.

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