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#I think it is interesting to ask ourselves why we think we can only be romantically involved with one person at a time
amywritesthings · 21 hours
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Love your fic love, it's the best one I've ever read. Could you do something from Levi pov when he started realising he liked Reader and he felt about that?
first of all, thank you for such lovely words! i'm so happy you like it. second of all, i can certainly write you a levi pov where he had his 'oh shit do i like her?' moment xo
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all at once. / levi ackerman x f!reader
word count: 900 warnings: language, levi pov set in the silver underground universe
( read on ao3 here )
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Furlan had a funny saying about the people he fell head over heels for.
It happens slowly, he once told Levi.
The two of them were sitting around their newly-bought two-bedroom apartment, comically vacant and egregiously filthy.
With his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, Furlan chose to sink his palms into the dust to tattoo his fingerprints. 
To say he was there.
(I was here. I am here.)
Levi chose a more civilized position — sitting backwards on one of the only two chairs they had in this place, his sleeved forearms folded over each other on its curved back. He peered down at his friend with the utmost curiosity, head hung under a curtain of black fringe.
“The hell’s this question coming from?” Levi grunted as he shifted his shoe on the floor.
Fucking disgusting; he wasn’t going to sleep tonight if the entire apartment ended up being this damn dirty. 
“What do you mean?” Furlan asked. "Which topic?"
“The topic of this,” Levi clarified, “and why you’re so interested in who I may be looking at on the streets."
"What, we can't gossip?"
The way Levi's brow quirked said otherwise. Furlan sighed.
"We're roommates now."
"So?"
"So?"
"I don’t think I asked who you're interested in, Church.”
“No, you didn’t,” Furlan hummed happily with a dopey smile on his face. “But now that we have this place with two whole bedrooms to ourselves, we have the luxury of inviting people over. Think about it: two young and handsome bachelors, ready to take on the—”
“Wait, invite people over?” Levi interrupted, brow rising. “This isn’t a community house. It's headquarters.”
“No, I know."
"Do you?"
"Yeah! But like I said, think about it: now that we’re taking names and carving our own legacies down here, I’m sure plenty of people will think we’re great. Maybe we'll even get some kinda group of admirers for our efforts.”
“Doubtful.”
“Aw, c’mon, Levi,” Furlan pouted. “Don’t you like anyone? There’s that one guy with the tattoos over on second street.”
“No.”
“Or the dark-haired girl who always seems to give you a discount on soups.”
“Not happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
Furlan blinked.
The black-haired boy felt his temper — and embarrassment — rising.
“Because I wouldn’t know what the fuck it feels like to like someone like… that.”
Levi grit the truth between his teeth, hating the honesty that came with this ridiculous conversation. 
The Underground City doesn't quite offer anything real. Down here love was transactional. There wasn't room for emotional error.
He saw what it did to his mother.
He saw how it molded whatever the fuck he’d call Kenny.
Bottom line was that feelings weren’t good.
And then there was Furlan, looking at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Well, when you realize there's something about someone, it's slow,” the ash-blonde boy suggested, nodding with encouragement. “From my understanding, liking a guy, girl, person, whatever — it happens slowly, then all at once.”
“How’s it slow?”
Furlan smiled, knocking his feet side to side against the wooden floorboards.
“Probably because the people you actually like are kinda in the background until they aren’t anymore.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Levi echoed. "You're supposed to be attracted to them first."
"That definitely helps, but that's like... lust or whatever," Furlan challenged. "I'm talking about liking someone. Wanting to hold hands or be with them so you can listen to them talk all the time and never get bored of what they're saying."
Levi scoffed, turning his chin sharply to the right as he considered.
Slow, then all at once.
Except it was never slow.
It would’ve been really fucking helpful if it had been.
You’d been ready to rip his throat open all those years ago.
No one had ever gotten the jump on him the way you had. No one would ever come close.
Maybe watching your fights after Kenny dropped him for reasons unsaid had been the slowest part about this. Watching your sweat-streaked face as you caught your breath in the midst of folding someone double your size like it was nothing. Listening to your voice in the alleyway when you spoke to that witch of a woman. Conjuring up an excuse to talk to you, to see if you even remembered—
It’d been all at once from the very beginning.
Someone as fleeting as a ghost had haunted his once dreamless sleep.
Hell, you still did.
“Sounds like you got someone in mind.”
His gray eyes darted back to Furlan, instantly on the defensive.
The other boy sported a goofy smirk. Levi scowled.
He could tell him.
He could ask if the way his throat closed up whenever he so much as considered uttering her name was a sign that he was head over heels.
That sometimes it wasn’t slow, but as fast as a blow to the damn head.
That sometimes liking a stranger felt more powerful than anything he'd ever known.
“Nah,” Levi lied, surging from his seat to stand at full height. “Only thing I’m interested in is cleaning this piece of shit up. I’m not sleeping on cobwebs tonight, so get up, grab a broom, and help.”
James.
Maybe one day he’d face it; liking someone.
Really, genuinely, devastatingly wanting someone.
But he couldn’t afford it.
(Maybe one day.)
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oepionie · 1 year
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—"PRINCE CHARMING'S KISS" dormleaders
💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link
synopsis: a potionology accident involving the adeuce duo leads to the prefect falling into a deep sleep. only an act of true love's kiss can save them and it seems that ace and deuce picked a certain boy to play prince charming.
⊹ [ cw ] — none◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | papa crewel doesn't seem too happy, cauldrons, tomato riddle, azul tries to get engaged, kalim bawling his eyes out, soft vil, idia is about to pop a vein, malleus throws a lamp at lilia and it's deserved◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 4k+◞
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"I SUMMON THEE, CAULDRON!"
"Deuce! No! I asked you to grab one not-" Before you could stop him, the cauldron already smashed against the pot atop your desk, flinging all the contents of the pink bubbling potion all over you.
"You dumbass! They said grab one, not summon one!" Ace hissed, throwing a towel over your soaked form. "Shit. We need to get them to Professor Crewel and — Oi, Prefect!?"
You fell forward, falling limp in Ace's arms as you both tumbled to the floor. Panicked, Ace was quick to push you onto your back, slapping your cheek and shaking you furiously. "Wake up!"
"W-What happened?" Deuce ran towards you two, guilt pooling in his stomach. His blood ran cold with fear once he saw just how pale and cold your face had turned. "Are they dead?!"
"No. It's not that strong of a potion." Crewel sighed, striding towards the two morons with a venomous scowl on his lips.
Leaning down, your adoptive-father gingerly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All previous ire he exhibited seemingly melting away. "Oh darling, I have no idea why you chose these two strays as friends…"
"Once again, you've brought my pup to harm with your incompetence." The professor stood up straight once again, his stern gaze fixed on the two youngsters.
"Nonetheless, I think this will be a valuable learning experience for the two of you." Crewel said, grabbing a thick aged book from a nearby shelf and thrusting it into Ace's arms.
"That book there contains the instructions to brew the cure."
"D-Do we have to make the- uff-" Deuce coughed, unintentionally breathing in a cloud of dust released by the old book. "-cure ourselves?"
Crewel drew his eyebrows up to his hairline, jaw dropped in disbelief. "Seven's no! I'll be making the cure myself; I have zero faith in you two."
"You two are to write a 10,000 word long report about the potion and I expect it on my desk by tomorrow." The professor pressed a boney finger against the cover, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, and I trust that you'll keep my pup safe. You know the consequences if I find even a single hair missing from their head." The two watched helplessly as Crewel walked away, his sharp heels clicking against the floor.
"Man. What's with him." Ace grumbled, flinging the book at Deuce who easily caught it with one hand.
"Deuce, what'cha say we just head to Ramshackle?" Ace hummed, nudging your unconscious form with his foot. He hadn't even bothered with picking you up. Opting to just leave you sprawled out on the cold tiles.
Ace was truly the most friend ever.
"Interesting…" Deuce muttered, clasping a hand around his chin. Ace raised his brow, peeking over his friend's shoulder to read the text on the yellowed pages.
"One of the cures listed here is…"
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✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:
"A True Love's Kiss…?" Riddle trailed off before scowling at his two dorm members. Just what sort of shenanigans were they pulling now?
He lowered his teacup slowly while frowning and blinking incoherently. "Could this be another one of your pitiful attempts at a joke?"
"Why the hell would we joke about his?" Ace whined.
Riddle shook his head, walking over to your unconscious form draped over Deuce's shoulder like a stack of potatoes. Checking your temperature, he pressed his hand against your forehead and tsk'd at the heat.
For a split second, his eyes briefly wandered over to your lips.
What if…
Snapping out of it, Riddle stepped back with his burning pink cheeks.
"What utter nonsense. Hand me that book, I can brew the potion myself." Riddle said, pulling his gloves off before he then motioned for Deuce to pass him the book.
"Ah yeah…about that-" Ace chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. "Crewel didn't allow any of us to make the cure…so you're kinda our only hope."
The part where Crewel promised to produce the cure was purposefully left out by Ace. In truth, there really was no reason for Riddle to kiss you other than to serve as Ace's entertainment but hush now Riddle didn't have to know that.
"Well them, pray tell, what makes you think I should take the role of Prince Charming? "
"You get that disgusting dopey look on your face when you see them." Ace smirked.
"I-I do not!" Riddle shouted, face turning a deep cherry-red. Ace laughed, pointing at Riddle's flushed cheeks. "See?! You're turning into a tomato!"
"How are we certain that they even like me back?!"
"Ugh! Stop being a coward! You'll never know if you don't try!"
They began arguing anew, flinging insult after insult at one other. Deuce sighs and places you down on the couch in the lounge. He knew that if they continued their screaming, nothing would be done. It's was time he took things into his own hands.
Deuce grabs Riddle by the arm, dragging him towards you. The redhead turns to him, demanding the first-year to let go but Deuce only shakes his head. "I'm sorry house warden, I'll bear the brunt of your punishment later but I need to fix what I did."
"No-! W-Wait-" Riddle sputters, digging his feet into the ground. "I-I can't possibly-How unconsensual!-"
"Whoops!" Ace seizes the opportunity to shove the redhead forward, causing his lips to meet with yours.
"?!" Riddle stills for a few seconds, his calloused palms resting on your cheeks. Peering at you through shaky lashes, Riddle snaps out of his lovesick stupor and jolts back. His face blooming into an even deeper red than thought possible.
"R..iddle…?" His heart hammers against his ribcage as you flutter your eyes open, blinking up at him. The press and warmth of your lips still remained and a million of thoughts raced through his head. One of them seemed to echo louder than the rest.
At his lips’ touch you blossomed like a rose and the cure was complete, bringing the enchantment to an end. He was your 'True Love'?
Riddle hesitantly cradled your body, assisting you in sitting up. He coughed, averting his eyes to the ground, unable to meet yours.
"I apologize for the unsolicited kiss however, seeing as how my feelings are returned." He turned to you, clasping your hand tight in his. "I would like to court you properly. H-How does lunch tomorrow at noon sound?"
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✩— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
"…so that's why I dumped them onto ya' bed." Ruggie yawned, extending his arms over his head.
There you were, curled up against Leona's king-sized bed, clutching one of his pillows tight in your arms. Blissfully oblivious to the fact that your friends abandoned you, placing you in the clutches of a hyena and at the mercy of a lion.
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"So, since Leona's a prince and all, that 'True Love Kiss' stuff could totally work with him, right?" Ace grinned, placing his hands on his hips. "I've read 'bout it in fairy tales all the time! The prince kisses the girl and boom!"
"How'd desperate are ya' to go running to Leona for help?" Ruggie sniggered, grabbing a handful of dry clothes off of the clothesline.
Really, it was both pitiful and humorous at the same time. The two chose to cast the irritable, hot-headed lion as the Prince Charming in their decrepit fairy tale.
Let's be honest, when you hear the term "charming," the first thing that came to mind was not Leona Kingscholar.
Adjusting the laundry basket, he propped it against his hip, Ruggie tapped his chin and pondered. "I can help but it'll come with a price…"
Deuce rushed forward, shoving a box of donuts into Ruggie's free hand. "Will this cover it?!"
Whistling, Ruggie flicked the box open. His eyes gleamed seeing all the tooth-rotting pastries heaped atop each other.
A sly grin stretched across his face.
"Deal."
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After Ace and Deuce handed you over to Ruggie, the hyena unceremoniously barged into Leona's room and all but threw you onto the bed.
"True Love's Kiss? Do those things even exist?" Leona scoffed, tossing a blanket over your form. Ruggie shrugged, heading out of Leona's room. "Dunno but since you two like each other, I figured you would wanna help."
Leona rolled his eyes, glancing at you. Your face was shoved against the pillow, a leg hooked over it. Well, by the looks of it, you seemed pretty comfortable. There was no harm in letting you stay for a bit.
"Shihshishi good luck on your love life." Ruggie grinned, sending Leona a thumbs up before slamming the door close.
"Damn hyena…" Leona grumbled, plopping down next to your sleeping body. His gaze poured over your skin, gliding across the contour of your jawline before settling on your lips. Leona softly pushed down on your lips with his thumb, parting them ever so slightly.
"So, you need a True Love's Kiss…" Leona whispered, leaning in, eyes fluttering close. "I better be the only one, herbivore."
His lips pressed firmly against yours, a hand propped under your chin to keep your head up. The kiss was unusually delicate and tender for someone of his nature, such a stark contrast to his gruff personality. Leona moved closer and his hair fell over his shoulders, chestnut locks draping across your chest. Within a few minutes, Leona drew back to see if you had awakened.
You stirred, bleary eyes blinking open and he smirked. Pride swelled in his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again, his tail curling around your waist.
"You're all mine, huh?"
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✩— AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
"Man, just how strong are you eels?!" Ace growled, banging his fists against Floyd's back. Both of the Heartslabyul boys were slung over Floyd's shoulder, his grip on them tight and unfaltering.
Beside him, Deuce was kicking around, trying (and failing) to get the merman's grip on him to loosen. Suddenly, one of Deuce's kicks hit Floyd square in the jaw and the eel growled.
"Neh~ Squirm around some more and I'll snap both of your legs off." Floyd grinned, his bright sharp teeth on full display. Although hesitant, the threat seemed to work as the two boys stilled, not wishing to lose their ability to walk any time soon.
"Now, Floyd, there's no need for such aggression." Jade chuckled as he approached the group with you in his arms. Unlike Floyd's manhandling, you were carried in a firm bridal carry, treated as if you were a precious piece of china or rather…an offering.
"We just got word on the prefect's condition." Jade shut his eyes, placing a hand against his chest in faux sympathy. "How unfortunate that they've succumbed to such a fate. However, lucky for you we found a solution."
"Ya need a Prince Charming right~? Well, let's have Azul do it!" Floyd cheered, slamming the two boys down onto the ground. Ace groaned, cradling his back and squinting at the tweels. "You think you can drag me into another one of those contracts?! I'm not stupid!"
"Oh, you're mistaken. This one is free of charge, no strings attached." Jade chuckled.
"Yeah…I don't really believe that." Deuce muttered.
"Why're you so damn stubborn?! Can't we just hand shrimpy to Azul? I'm sick of seeing him makin' those dumb goo goo eyes." Floyd whined.
The eel yanked you from Jade's arms and stomped up to Azul's office. He kicked the door down, nearly knocking it off its hinges.
Jolting, Azul accidentally spilled ink all over his papers. The delicate fine print he spent hours painstakingy writing by hand dissolved into large blots of ink. His eye twitched as he grit his teeth, snapping his head up to meet Floyd's gaze.
"Floyd. What in the great seven's are you—?!" Azul was cut off when the eel plopped your dozing body onto his lap. It took the octo-mer a few seconds before he registered just what happened, cheeks burning a bright crimson when he realized you were pressed up snug against his chest.
"It's your lucky day, Azul~! You get to play Prince Charming!" Floyd sang as he made his way to the door. "Shrimpy here got cursed because of Mackerel and Crab so now you have to kiss them!"
Kiss…? Azul's mind went haywire but before he could speak any further, Floyd slithered out of the room and slammed the door shut.
It's not that he doesn't believe in the cure; love is a strong thing, and he's read that it can break even the most powerful curses. Even so, how could he promise that you'd wake up?
Azul pressed a hand behind your head, trying to calm his beating heart. Did you even acknowledge his feelings?
"True Love's kiss…Well, it wouldn't hurt to try." He murmurs, raising a trembling hand to rest against your cheek. He leans down and lightly presses his lips against yours, ever so clumsy, before checking for any reactions.
Azul stares down on your drowsy body as your eyes flicker open. He stares at you owlishly before breaking into a giddy grin.
"Prefect, s-seeing as how I'm your True Love-" Azul hastily unlocked his top desk drawer, pulling out a fancy piece of paper and handing it to you. "Let's make it official with a contract."
"..."
Blinking, you looked down and read the text on the paper. Azul smiled at you expectantly, nudging a pen towards your direction.
"Azul, this is an engagement contract…?"
"Precisely."
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✩— KALIM AL ASIM:
Jamil peered at Kalim through a crack in the slightly-ajar door. Seeing the poster boy for the golden-retriever personality sulking was truly a rare sight. Kalim had his head buried in his hands, kneeling by his bed which had your sleeping form atop it.
"What did you tell him?!" Jamil hissed, whipping his head around to glare at both Ace and Deuce.
"W-We just told him how we needed a Prince Charming's kiss to break the spell…" Deuce trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "…we figured since he was related to royalty, he could break it."
"He must have misunderstood it then." Jamil sighed, slipping into the dark room. So dark in fact that he could barely make out the silhouette of his dorm leader. Kalim had shut the drapes so tightly that not a single ray of sunshine could strike through his bedroom. How…dramatic.
"Kalim, what's the matter…?" Jamil approached the young boy, placing his hand atop Kalim's shoulder. He didn't miss the sight of the pure gold jewelry hastily draped across your neck or the iris bouquet in your hands. Well…it was evident who all those were from. You looked like you came straight out of a Scarabian version of Snow White.
"J-Jamil!" Kalim wailed, screwing his eyes shut as thick globs of tears ran down his flushed puffy face. The vice dorm leader sighed and reached for a tissue box, which he handed to the distraught boy. Kalim snatched a fistful of tissues and blew his nose loudly.
"The prefect is cursed to sleep forever-! A-And I couldn't find the cure!" He cried out in anguish. Jamil squinted his eyes. "Kalim, in case you forgot, the cure is-"
"I know! Prince Charming's kiss!" Kalim interrupted, wiping away his tears with the back of his arm making Jamil grimace. "I sent out hundreds of search parties but he hasn't been found!"
Jamil paused.
Ah. In foresight, he really should have seen this coming…
Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath to get his irritation under control. He reached for the hood of Kalim's shirt and yanked him back. Hissing into his ear, the snake spat. "Kalim, the Prince Charming is you."
"Wh-Whgat?" Kalim sniffed, his voice muffled and hoarse from his crying.
"You. You're the prince charming." Jamil groaned, running a hand over his face.
Kalim started at Jamil for a minute or two, processing what his friend just said. Eventually, he broke out into a wide smile and happy laughter.
Wasting no time, he was quick to swoop you into his arms, drawing you into a clumsy yet endearing kiss. It only took a few seconds before your eyes blinked open. He pulled away but not before pressing another quick peck on your cheek.
"So, I'm your prince charming, huh?" Kalim beamed, sending a you a silly toothy grin. He leaned down and peppered your flushed face with kisses once more, making you feel like your head was about to explode.
"Y-Yeah-" You shot him a bashful yet thankful smile.
Filled with happiness, the teen jumped to his feet and drew you into his arms. He lifted you up by the waist and spun you around, his loud laughter echoing out through the room.
"I'm so glad! Ah! But I still have to cancel all those search parties though…"
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✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:
"Tsk. This is what I said about hanging out with those hooligans potato." Vil scowled, seething in rage and looking as if he was just about to hex both Ace and Deuce for this accident. "It'll only bring you trouble."
After he was informed of the incident by Rook, he wasted no time in whisking you away from your two incompetent friends and claiming he would care for you himself. Like hell he was letting you stay in that shabby dorm of yours.
Vil eased you into a luxurious bed in one of Pomefiore's spare rooms, draping a delicate lilac blanket around your torso. His palms brushed up against your brow, softly smoothing out the creases along your brow line.
Dspite the color vanishing from your cheeks and the once bright visage that made you look so vibrant losing it's glow, Vil believed you to be ethereal.
"True Love's Kiss can wake her from the spell." Vil murmured, reading off of a page in the book Deuce handed to him.
"Hmph, if I had a Madol for everytime that was listed as a cure." This wasn't the first time he'd heard of such a thing. Vil has spend hours pouring over potionology books and you'd be surprised at just how many spells and curses have it mentioned. A tad bit overrated if you asked him.
"Though there will be no need for a Prince Charming, potato." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small vial filled with a glimmering silver liquid.
The liquid swished around in the bottle, sparkling brightly. As you've probably guessed, this was the cure. Vil wasn't appointed Pomefiore's dorm leader for nothing. If he could make one of the most potent poisons this campus has ever seen then he surely knew how to make a cure as simple as this. It was mere child's play.
"The potion will suffice. Even a single drop is enough to wake you." He twisted the bottle open, gently grabbing a hold of your jaw to part your lips. He leaned down, holding the bottle over your face before pausing.
"As if I'd need True Love's Kiss to prove myself." Vil scoffed, eyes latching onto your face, his gaze intense yet warm. He tipped the bottle down, allowing a single drop to fall into your mouth before capturing your lips with his in a tender yet feverish kiss.
Vil eventually pulled away and hummed seeing the color and flush return to your skin. His fingers combed through your disheveled hair, undoing any knots. Your eyes fluttered open and Vil huffed, gliding his fingers along your flushed cheeks.
"Your skin is far too puffy, an unfortunate side effect of the cure. Worry not, I'll go grab a facemask for you." Vil pushed himself off of the bed, heels clicking against the floor as he marched out of the room. "A spa day is just what you need after another incident, potato."
It was all thanks to his potion that were you able to wake, he tells himself. Vil Schoenheit was not one for fairytales or wishing. He knew that he didn't need some magical curse or wish to win you over. No, he was confident he could accomplish it on his own.
As Vil eases the translucent mask onto your face, you smile brightly at him and his chest blooms in a sudden warmth.
Yes, it was definitely the potion.
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✩—IDIA SHROUD:
"S-seriously, w-wh-hy me? Do I look like a Prince Charming to y-you?" Idia groaned, trying to shut the door but Ace stuck his foot through the opening. "Knock it off with the grin, geez… Weirdo…"
"We know you both have romantic feelings for each other!" Deuce shouted, holding you in his arms. "We really need your help!"
Idia shrieked, hair burning up slightly. He could barely hold eye contact with you for 3 seconds, what makes these two think that he could even survive kissing you? The poor boy would end up melting into a puddle of sad gooey awkwardness.
"J-Just wait until C-Crewel finishes the potion!" Idia shouted, shoving Ace away and slamming the door shut. His chest heaved up and down as he pressed his back against the door, arms awkwardly splayed to his sides, scrambling to keep the door shut.
His eyes ripped wide in panic when Ace continued to pound at the door, calling his name. "C'mon, Idia! Most people would take this as a great opportunity to win their crush over you know!"
"NOPE, NOPE, NOPE. COUNT ME OUT. I'M NOT GOING DOWN THE ROMANCE ROUTE." Idia vehemently shook his head, burying his face into the fabric of his shirt.
Ortho laughed silently, heading over to his distressed brother who looked like he was about to pop a vein. Scratch that, he probably already has.
"Big brother, didn't you and the prefect already go on a date?" Orthro said, tilting his head up to meet Idia's shaky gaze. "Why the big deal? It's just a small kiss."
"Th-That was different! I-I-It was a gaming session through a screen!" Idia sinked to the floor, curling up into a ball. He sobbed pathetically. "I could barely even keep my composure-No way am I surviving IRL."
"Yeah but they need you right now. You may not be Prince Charming but I'm sure the prefect would prefer you over any other." Ortho whispered, placing a hand atop Idia's own. The dorm leader's lip quivered, newfound courage blooming in his chest. He shakily stood up, knees wobbling from his nerves.
"…They need me."
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"I'm telling you Deuce, this guy's hopeless." Ace sighed, lips drawn into a thin line as he casually leaned against the door. Deuce frowned, lightly kicking Ace's shin. "Don't say such things about our senior!"
"Oh yeah? But he's-Argh! " Ace yelped falling backwards as the door abruptly opened. With a grunt, he landed on his back and found himself staring up at Idia's flushed face.
"Alright, n-normies. I-I-I'll d-d-do it."
Idia stepped aside and let Deuce enter his room. Anxiously fiddling with his hands, Idia watched the first-year carefully set you on his bed before stepping out of the room.
"We'll leave everything to you!" The two scurried away and Ortho also excused himself, leaving to give you two privacy. Idia stood in the middle of his room, a great distance away from you.
Alright, he could do this. It was just a simple little kiss, no biggie.
Hovering his shaky hands over your cheeks, Idia leaned over your form. His breath fanning across your face as he moved in, delicately brushing his lips against yours.
Your hands snaked around his neck, drawing him in deeper making the boy squeak. Pulling away, Idia averted his gaze, voice small and meek.
"H-Hey you. You're finally awake…"
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✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:
In a tall tower atop Diasomnia, an ominious green glow was emanating from an open window. Thick towering brambles, thorns, and vines wrapped itself around the brooding dorm. In the sky, claps of lightning and thunder flashed amongst the darkening clouds.
"Ah…we lost the prefect." Deuce deadpanned, his gaze fixed on the overgrown thick shrubs in front of them. Ace reached for a thorn, hissing as the tip of his finger was cut.
"Yeah..it's best if we leave them to Malleus, I don't think we can even get past all of…this."
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Lilia stood in the corner watching as Malleus tenderly placed you onto the bed, the dragon fae handling you as if you were a delicate piece of glass that could break at any second.
"Ah~ Are you going to be their Prince Charming? Khee hee, how ador—"
"Lillia, we need more pillows. There's hardly enough here." Malleus abruptly cut in, a stern look on his face.
Lilia blinked, gaze drawn over to the bed already filled to the brim with pillows of all shapes and sizes, so much so that some of them began pooling around the floor. All evidence of Malleus' nesting instinct.
"What a tragedy. There is to be a pillow scarcity in Diasomnia because of the devastation lay upon the prefect." Lilia replied, a dramatic theatrical sigh leaving his lips. He hurried out the door to meet Malleus' requests before the storm outside worsened. The dragon fae was already aggrevated, there was no need to make things worse.
Malleus' gaze was drawn to your serene expression, his aching heart plummeting to his stomach. Bending down, he softly cradled you in his arms. "Oh, my treasure, if only I could have prevented this."
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses amongst your skin before trailing them up to your lips. Fluttering his eyes shut, Malleus wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the bed as he pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Malleus drew back to see you ogle at him with with wide eyes, your fingers having immediately shot up touch your tingling lips. Chuckling, he bent down once more to press his lips against yours. You two exchanged kisses for what seemed like hours, the press of his lips against yours leaving your lungs burning and heaving for air. At some point he slipped into bed with you, holding himself above your body with his elbows.
"Khee hee, You two know it's supposed to be a 'True Love's Kiss' not 'Kisses', right?" Lilia barged into the room, a comically large pile of pillows in his arms. Malleus growled and tossed a lamp his way, one which Lillia dodged easily. The lamp shattered against the wall behind him, scattering into fragments across the floor.
"Ah ah, there's no need to be so furious. Let me just drop these off and I'll be on my merry way." Lilia cheered, dropping the pillows by the foot of the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old bulky camera. "Might as well take pictures!"
Snarling, Malleus drew his hand back to reach for the large painting sitting above the bed. You snaked a hand around his wrist, silently begging him to not hurl another object at his bat-dad.
"My baby boy is in love-OW!"
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
✩— EXTRA:
"What did I say about keeping them out of harms way." Crewel snarled through clenched teeth, sitting in the detention room with both Ace and Deuce. Ace chuckled awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well if you look on the bright side, your kid finally has a love life, so there's that!"
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galedekarios · 2 months
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i'm reading a new interview tim downie gave about gale and it offers some of tim's own headcanons about gale, as well as tim's thoughts and insights on gale's character:
Nerds & Beyond: I like that you mentioned that the game is full of rounded characters because they are, they all have different aspects that make them feel real. I adore that Gale specifically is so serious and studious, but at the same time he has this really playful side — he often jokes about how he was a mischievous youth, he encourages other people like Arabella to do so, he understands when The Dark Urge first mentions their violent thoughts. There is a lot of nuance and depth there. But the quality that I love with Gale most is that obviously he is very ill when we first meet him – not that we know immediately – and he’s dealing with a lot of chronic pain. I find him incredibly selfless because he takes that day-to-day head on to help the party, which is an aspect I feel continues to show throughout the three acts. What’s your favorite quality of Gale’s, or what did you take away from him? Tim Downie: It’s so interesting hearing you say that, because I had so many different feedbacks about what people take from the character and sometimes things really surprise you. It’s interesting hearing that such and such has taken that particular aspect, because there are broad things like “He’s funny,” and that’s quite nice, that’s a nice trait, though not one you necessarily get to see that much. It’s so interesting hearing other people’s views about what they take from Gale.  The idea of dealing with chronic pain I found really interesting and an interesting subplot to play, and that was the great thing about doing something like this is that it is so unbelievably nuanced. You have so many layers that just keep going and going and going, as much as we all contain multitudes within ourselves. We all deal with these things, but only certain things pop up to the surface at any given point.  What did I take from Gale, though? I liked his studiousness. I would imagine that he was probably bullied as a kid for it, and he was probably a bit of a joker because he was bullied, and he uses that as a defense. But an even bigger defense for him is “I now know stuff that I didn’t before,” and that’s a power. It’s very similar to when you are being bullied and you’re the funny one – that’s your power, that’s your thing. “I may not be able to hurt you in a traditional sense, but I can say things that will make you feel pain,” which is a very different thing because you physically can’t go after them.  That’s the wonderful thing about acting and this character as well is being able to explore all these things that you might not have, that you might have gone, “I’m not gonna look at that again, I don’t want to deal with that,” and then it brings it up again and it’s like, “Oh, this is actually quite cathartic,” to re-explore these these moments of sorrow and loss and how you deal with grief and things like that and heartbreak and how you get over that.  It’s not all just tears, you do try and make a joke of it.
i really like that they are addressing the topic of gale's chronic pain. it's something that doesn't get addressed often, not even in the game itself.
i also found his answer as to why people might connect to gale very nice:
Nerds & Beyond: Gale is the most popular origin character to play as. What is it about him that you think allows so many different players to connect with him to the depths the fandom has? Tim Downie: I really don’t know. I think you’d have to ask the players that, ‘cause I don’t know, to be quite honest with you. He’s a wizard, and who wouldn’t want to be a wizard at the end of the day? I always say the difference between wizards and sorcerers is that sorcerers just pretend – they just assume they know what they’re doing, but a wizard has really learned this trade. And so there’s that kind of weight of knowledge and learning, which I would love to play as and be for a length of time.  I think it’s also the frailties. I like characters, and a lot of people do I’m assuming, that have flaws, otherwise you’ve made them completely unapproachable. To be completely superhuman or completely extraordinary at something then removes the humanity from it because it becomes like, “Well, that’s never gonna happen.” But when there’s a flaw, when there’s, “Oh, I’ve got that wrong, too,” or like, “My knees hurt” as you say, or “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I really don’t want to do this,” “You’re really annoying me, this is very annoying, could you please hurry up?” or “Stop licking the damn thing,” it’s always those moments that are fun because it shows what we’re all thinking at that point, it removes it from almost archetype and stereotype and it becomes human in a way.
gale is approachable and likeable, has flaws, but is genuinely nice. i think that very much sums up his character.
this bit here made me laugh:
Nerds & Beyond: When you’re talking about those different layers in the humanity building, I think one of the most important aspects in this game is the more “background” or passive dialogue, so dialogue that is prompted in the world and not in the cut scenes.  For instance — the first time I made Gale sneak he immediately complained about his knees, and it was such a real moment where he was just like, “Oh, don’t make me do this. This is not what I’m here for, I’ve got bad knees and I’m not made for this.” Did you have any of those background lines or moments that stick out as being particularly fun to craft?  Tim Downie: I remember the first time I ever had to do waiting, I found it infinitely interesting in so many ways. The idea that I did actually just have to wait and just actually, “Hmm…” Those little things I find really funny because they’re probably the closest to me that the character ever gets. His waiting mannerisms are kind of very English – slightly annoyed and I’m not going to show it to you though because we’re all being very nice, but I’ll do it with a huff and a slightly sarcastic, “Well, that’s great. Another 20 minutes. That’s great.” Those kinds of sentiments I found wonderful and incredibly fun, and funny, to do. 
if you want to read the whole interview for yourself, you can do so here!
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antimony-medusa · 1 month
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Okay so, one of my problems with creator boundaries as an event runner is that it's impossible to keep up with them all, because they're being updated, and because so much of the time you learn them when they're reported to you, you weren't in stream yourself. So it's a game of telephone, and there's a constant issue that the message gets garbled in translation.
So the stance that I've taken as an event runner is that I will not be enforcing boundaries, and everyone can decide for themselves what relationships they're comfortable with. This seemed like the best stance for me to deal with the beeduo /p /r wars, and then I have continued to see many other smaller or larger instances where I've gone "yeah, enforcing creators boundaries as an event mod is a nonstarter, I'm sticking with that".
And I've been mostly concerned about issues like— I am not an avid watcher of Gem streams! I might miss things that happen in Gem streams, I don't know what the creator's exact boundaries are for what's okay to do in her vision. But meanwhile I've been over here in Phil streams, and I've assumed that I have known Phil's boundaries, because they get repeated SO MUCH. Everybody knows— no nsfw, and then we argue about if the only shipping allowed is with Mumza (the dsmp stance) or if his continued gay flirting with men on QSMP means he's okay with shipping with them (he kissed a man on camera on QSMP, for example). That is the received wisdom about Phil's boundaries, we all know where we stand and how we're interpreting things.
And I have been like okay, Phil doesn't want to see NSFW, I don't think he's reading my Ao3 history, maybe I will read the occasional pissa fic for fun. There are some good fics in the tag, you know. I will just keep it out of his sight, and the streamer doesn't have to know, right?
Cut to today, where I'm being kicked out of a discord server for bookmarking one (1) Phil NSFW fic. They sent me a clip to prove that NSFW was against the rules and why I was getting kicked. So I watched the clip in the interest of completeness.
flickr
And guys, when I tell you my jaw fucking dropped, because I do NOT agree that anyone should have asked the streamer this, but someone got him to talk about NSFW fan work, "weirdchamp shit", and he explicitly with his mouth says that he "could not give a shit" and "everybody lets out their creativity in different ways", and "ultimately it isn't hurting anybody", and as long as he doesn't see it, he's fine with it. As long as it's kept out of his stream he's fine.
So uh, guys? I know it's not like we haven't been cautiously creeping this way ourselves, just keeping it out of the streamer's sight, but explicitly, word of god from the streamer, I think Phil NSFW has been legal this whole time.
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mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year
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Friend-zoned? - Alhaitham x f!reader
Summary: How many Akademiya guys does it take to figure out whether or not you've friend-zoned Alhaitham? After discussing how strong he is, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari analyze his relationship with you. Things get interesting when you join their table.
Other info: fluff and humor :D, female reader, my extension of the conversation in Alhaitham's character demo because I loved the guys' interactions there so much
Words: 2.7k
*****
"Essentially, more time on contemplation, less time on execution," Alhaitham tells them. "Simple, isn't it?"
"... Not really," Tighnari and Cyno reply.
"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have brought this up with you," Kaveh complains.
"I thought my answer was quite engrossing," Alhaitham says. He raises his hand. "Boss, this is good wine. I'll have the same please."
Kaveh swirls his cup. "Well, he has at least one weakness," he comments.
"Do tell," Cyno says.
"He's had the same crush for years," Kaveh tells them. "The guy's completely smitten."
"You can't be serious," says Cyno.
"Why is that so surprising?" Alhaitham says. "It makes less sense that I wouldn't be attracted to her."
"See what I mean?" says Kaveh. "You should see how he is around her. He practically treats her like a queen."
"I have a hard time believing that," Cyno says, crossing his arms.
"Stop exaggerating," Alhaitham tells Kaveh. "I just treat her the way she should be treated."
Kaveh only laughs at his answer.
"I thought you didn't like social interaction," says Cyno. "Or had any friends for that matter."
"It's not tiring to be around her," he says. "She's different."
"Of course she is," says Kaveh.
"Well this is interesting," says Tighnari. "What is she like?"
"We've known each other since we were kids. She was mature for her age. She did things like helping me resolve issues I had with others to keep the peace, making sure other kids didn't bother me while I was reading… Also, comforting me whenever I got discouraged…"
"You? Discouraged?" Kaveh scoffs.
"Yes? I'm only human you know," Alhaitham simply replies. "Anyway, you get the picture."
"That seems reasonable," says Tighnari.
"So it's one-sided?" Cyno asks. "As far as I can tell, you're still single."
"No," says Alhaitham, crossing his arms. "It's not one-sided."
"You're kidding me, right?" Kaveh says. "Are we even talking about the same person?"
Tighnari raises a brow.
"Every time she introduces him to another woman, she's a little too obvious with sharing why they'd be good for Alhaitham," Kaveh explains, "as if she's trying to sell them off to him."
"Don't be so dramatic," Alhaitham says. "She's not selling anyone."
"If that's the case, then why are you sure she likes you?" asks Cyno.
"Well for one, she comes by often to check how I'm doing."
"Perhaps she simply thinks you're incompetent at your job," Kaveh chides.
"Two," he continues, ignoring him. "She's always willing to hear about the latest book I'm reading, no matter how boring others think of it."
"Hmm…" Tighnari mumbles. "I can understand that."
"And three…" Alhaitham puts down his cup. "Whenever she reaches out for my hand, like when she wants to comfort me, she stops short of actually holding it."
"She does?" asks Kaveh.
"Interesting. So it seems that while she does display some sort of affection for you," says Tighnari, "perhaps she just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."
"So you're doubting my conclusion?"
"I'm simply saying it's difficult to judge based on the evidence you've provided. We may need to observe the two of you for ourselves."
Alhaitham sighs. This isn't going anywhere.
"Does she have any reason to not want to date you?" Cyno asks. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were overly critical of her, commenting on her every action."
"I give her nothing but compliments. She knows I think very highly of her."
"Huh," Tighnari says. "That's quite unexpected."
"I've been telling you guys," Kaveh says, "but he's really something else around her."
"Is she… actually older than you by any chance?" asks Tighnari.
"She is."
"Hmm… Well this changes things. Perhaps, she still sees you as a kid and is simply just doting on you."
Kaveh turns to Alhaitham, eagerly waiting for his reply.
Alhaitham clears his throat. "She's less than a couple of years older than me. It's not a big deal."
"Just admit that you're friend-zoned," says Kaveh. "Who'd treat their love interest like a kid?"
"I'm not so sure…" Cyno says.
Both Kaveh and Tighnari raise a brow.
"I think that Alhaitham has a clearer picture and can judge more accurately than any of us. They've known each other for long enough."
"It's just his wishful thinking on his part," says Kaveh. "Who wouldn't want to read into their crush's actions?"
"I agree to an extent," says Tighnari, "but perhaps we're missing some crucial information here. We don't know how well Alhaitham can judge a person's actions when romantic feelings are involved."
"I'm thinking quite clearly, thanks," Alhaitham says.
"This is why you aren't getting anywhere," Kaveh scolds him. "You're assuming she has feelings for you when she doesn't. You still need to win her over."
"Then what do you suggest I do?" Alhaitham crosses his arms.
"Ha. As if I'd help you. She could do way better than you anyway."
Alhaitham groans. Why is he even part of this conversation?
"Well, have you ever told her how you felt?" asks Cyno.
"Of course," replies Alhaitham. "I'm pretty obvious about it."
"For someone as reserved as you, I highly doubt that," Cyno adds.
"I wrote her a letter, eloquently expressing my love for her."
"Pfft. What?" Kaveh snorts.
Tighnari stares in disbelief. "Oh. I get it. You did that when you were children."
"I'm referring to the one I gave her yesterday."
"Pfft."
"That's… pretty obvious," Tighnari adds.
"I bet it was more of an essay than a love letter," Kaveh says with a smirk.
"Well, in that case, she either doesn't like you," says Tighnari, "or there's something that prevents her from admitting her feelings."
"Perhaps she's intimidated by your position," suggests Cyno.
"It's unlike her to care about those things," Alhaitham says. "She even treats me like a kid at times."
"So you do admit she just thinks of you as a kid," Kaveh says.
Alhaitham doesn't answer.
"Honestly, this case is closed," Kaveh continues. "There's nothing more to it."
"Hmm... Have you tried to make her jealous?" asks Cyno.
"You're still not convinced?" Kaveh is surprised at him.
"Knowing the result of that would likely draw us closer to a conclusion," Tighnari adds.
"Why would I purposely try to hurt her?" asks Alhaitham.
They exchange glances. Alhaitham still had the ability to make them go speechless with his matter-of-fact tone.
"Well, he's definitely serious about her," says Cyno.
"I told you," Kaveh says. "Seems like she's the only person he'd open up to as well."
"Of course she is," Alhaitham replies.
"I wonder…" says Tighnari. "Has she ever shared her own struggles with you?"
"Why would that be a factor?"
"Well, that would display how comfortable she is around you."
"Hmm… Not bad…" Alhaitham seems to agree with his line of reasoning.
He goes quiet and uncomfortably so because the other three exchange awkward glances at each other in the meantime.
"Well?" Cyno breaks the silence.
"You may be right," Alhaitham tells Tighnari with a sigh. "But that certainly raises more questions."
"Can we just start playing Genius Invokation TCG?" asks Kaveh. "We just keep going in circles with this topic."
"So you guys did just drag me out to play cards," says Alhaitham.
"It would be interesting to meet her," says Tighnari. "It's gotten me curious."
"Same here," says Cyno.
Kaveh looks up at the tavern entrance. "Huh? She's actually here."
Alhaitham's eyes flicker open for a brief moment. "Nice try. I'm not falling for that."
"I didn't expect to see you here, Alhaitham," you say, ruffling his hair.
He freezes and the three of them take a closer look at his face.
"I never expected him to have that kind of expression," whispers Tighnari.
"Me neither," Cyno agrees.
Alhaitham clears his throat. "They simply invited me here for some cards," he tells you. "Nothing more."
"Can I join?" you ask.
Without question, Alhaitham gets up from his chair. He holds the back of his seat and slides it out, gesturing for you to take it.
Cyno and Tighnari widen their eyes.
"Is it just me or did that feel kind of odd?" says Tighnari.
"Coming from him? You're not wrong there," adds Cyno.
You hesitate for a moment before you accept his kindness and take his seat. He stands next to you, waiting for the other guys to start preparing the game.
The two onlookers feel slightly uncomfortable for some reason while Kaveh tells them another round of 'I-told-you-so's. There isn't anything out of the ordinary as you all take your turns playing each other. Cyno is intense as usual, not just with his tactics but also with how he approaches the battle like an interrogation. Tighnari was calm and collected even under pressure, and Kaveh spoke his mind with every move, regardless of whether it's his or his opponent's. But having you there with Alhaitham is… strange.
Nothing really happens of significance. The two of you treat each other well and with respect. Just having Alhaitham being a complete gentleman around you is unnerving for the rest of them. Curt responses and sarcastic remarks are absent. He's completely agreeable with you and his usual temper isn't there either. Everyone plays the game in peace.
"You should save that card for later," Alhaitham tells you. "He can't do anything for the rest of the round anyway."
"Hmm… I'm not quite sure if that's what I want to do yet," you respond.
"Alright," he says. "You should do what you think is best."
"This guy…" Kaveh turns to you. "How do you get him to be like that? If it were any of us, he would've scolded us with a lengthy explanation about how we'd lose if we didn't follow his exact instructions."
"What? She can think for herself."
"And none of us can't?"
"I'm already familiar with how the three of you play and where you go wrong. I want to see if she does anything differently."
"It seems that he really does only compliment you, huh?" Tighnari tells you.
"Why would I do otherwise?" Alhaitham states.
His straightforward remark stuns them once again.
"Okay, we get it," says Kaveh. "We all know about your huge crush on her."
"Seems like you can't say anything bad about her even if you try," Cyno comments.
"Of course I can."
"You can?" you ask.
The whole table looks at you funny. You fiddle with the cards in your hand, pretending you weren't shocked for a split second.
"Interesting," says Cyno.
Alhaitham crosses his arms. "What is it?"
"I'm keeping my observations to myself for now."
Alhaitham raises a brow, but lets it go for the meantime.
A few rounds go by and you help set up for the next. When Alhaitham picks up a die for you from the floor, your hand brushes against his and the die falls off the table once more.
"What's wrong?" Alhaitham asks as he picks up the die again. "You're not usually this clumsy."
"I don't think there's anything wrong with me," you say.
He takes a closer look at you and you avoid his eyes. "Alright," he says. "You still ready to play?"
"I'll need to head out soon," Tighnari says. "It's my turn to be on patrol for tonight."
"Hold on," Cyno says, placing his cards on the table. "One last round. I'll be your opponent this time," he tells you.
You finish setting up the game and test your skills against Cyno. He certainly doesn't make it easy for you. You fall behind pretty quickly, but at least he's not as intimidating as when he played with some of the others.
"So," Cyno says, "what do you think of Alhaitham?"
Your eyes widen at his sudden question.
"You're straight up asking her?" says Kaveh.
"Why not?"
"I guess he has a point," says Tighnari.
They turn their attention to you to see what you'd say.
"Well…" you say, "he's very intelligent and talented."
"No, not what everyone else says," says Cyno. "What you think."
"What do you think you're doing?" asks Alhaitham. "Are you interrogating her right now?"
"Just let her answer the question."
"Well…" you say, "he's nice? And sweet?"
Cyno raises a brow.
"He's cute?"
"Pfft." Kaveh holds in his laughter.
Cyno ignores him and presses the question.
"I don't know how to respond," you tell him. "We've known each other for so long I can't just sum it up in a sentence."
"Alright. I'll get straight to the point," says Cyno. "What do you think of Alhaitham's feelings for you?"
"I think he should get to know other people… and try dating someone else?"
"See?" says Kaveh.
"I've already told you I'm not interested in anyone else," Alhaitham says.
"No, you should listen to her answer," Cyno tells him. "She's not lying."
"What?" Alhaitham widens his eyes.
"I'm not done yet," says Cyno. "There's more." He turns to you. "How serious do you think Alhaitham is about you?"
"He's definitely sincere."
"I'm pretty sure that was obvious," says Tighnari.
"But you don't take his feelings seriously," Cyno tells you.
"It's not that. It's just…"
"You don't?" asks Alhaitham.
"Alright. It's your turn from here," Cyno tells him.
"But I thought I was clear," Alhaitham tells you.
"You were."
"Apparently not clear enough."
"Look. You used to follow me around like a duckling whenever you weren't reading a book," you tell him. "How was I supposed to take your crush on me seriously?"
"It's been more than a decade since then."
"I... Okay, fair enough," you concede. "But it would disappear once you learned I didn't live up to your expectations."
"What expectations?" Alhaitham raises his brow.
"I don't know. That I'm this perfect woman that you've been pining for more than half your life. You'd know I'm not so great if you'd actually try liking someone else."
"Is that what you've been telling yourself?"
"You never say anything bad about me."
"Why would I want to talk about your flaws? Especially when I've been trying to win you over," he says. "Besides, aren't they obvious to you?"
"What?" You're genuinely surprised. "Like what?"
"Like how stupid you're being right now."
You freeze.
"Besides, I've been around you long enough," Alhaitham continues. "There's plenty I don't like. Like the way you cut me off at times–"
"What?"
"–or your atrocious style–"
"Okay, that one hurt a bit–"
"–or how stupid do you have to be to keep asking Kaveh for money –"
"Alright. I get it."
"–or that time you–"
"Okay! I get it! You like me!"
Kaveh looks at you as if you've grown another head. "How did you come to that conclusion? Are we even listening to the same conversation?"
"I think she's finally realized that his feelings were deeper than she initially thought," says Tighnari. "Especially since she knows that Alhaitham is still objective with her and not blinded with infatuation."
"That's right," Cyno says. "She's been the exception to his behavior for a long time. It makes sense she would think his judgment would be clouded with the information she had."
You hide your face from them. It's embarrassing how they read you like a book once your guard was down.
"I didn't expect the solution to be so simple," Alhaitham says.
He slips his hand into yours and you let out a little squeak. "You've also been wanting to hold my hand for some time haven't you?"
"Ugh. You're all smug now because you know that I return your feelings."
"I also don't like how you rearranged my bookcase."
"You can stop now."
"I think it's time for us to go," says Cyno.
"But we haven't finished our match yet," you tell him.
"I'll just forfeit this one."
"I'm with you on that," says Kaveh. "Anything before they start being gross with each other."
"I guess this is a good time for me to head out as well," says Tighnari.
The two of you are suddenly left alone at the table with a bunch of dice in front of you.
"Well, that's one way to win a match," Alhaitham tells you. "I'd say it's pretty ingenious actually."
You simply groan. You know what's coming.
"Do you want me to help you win every time?"
"Please don't."
*****
I hope you liked it. :)
This is one of those fics I wish had inline commenting like on Wattpad. I would've loved to see how everyone reacted at certain parts in real time but unfortunately Tumblr doesn't have that.
Anyway, you can find links to my masterlist and taglist on my pinned post if you want to check out more of my writing.
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waskurttrans · 2 years
Text
Kurt Cobain Will Have His Revenge on the Straights
Had a video call with my brother Chuck the other day.  Things got heavy:
KATE: Was Kurt Cobain a trans woman?
CHUCK: What?
Kurt Cobain.  Rock musician.  He was in a band called Nirvana.
I’m familiar with him, yes.
Was he a trans woman?
Um.  No?
OK.  Why not?
I mean, he wasn’t.  It’s like asking why he wasn’t an astronaut.
He wasn’t an astronaut because he never went to space.  Why wasn’t he a trans woman?
Because he didn’t transition.  I mean, he didn’t ever say he was a woman, didn’t ever say he was trans.  So no.  Kurt Cobain wasn’t a trans woman.
So someone is trans if they say they’re trans.  Self-determination.
That’s what you’ve told me.  Is that wrong?
No, that’s right.  We know ourselves better than anybody else can know us.  If we say we’re trans, nobody can say we aren’t.
And Kurt Cobain never said he was trans.
So was I trans in 1994?
I don’t know, were you?
Yes, but if you’d asked me in 1994, I would have told you “no”.
So if I tell you I’m trans, I’m trans…
Right.
But if I tell you I’m cis, I might still be trans?
If you tell me you’re cis, I believe you.
That’s not the same thing as “I’m cis”.
That’s a really good point.  This is sort of what some queer people are getting at when they say “gender is a construct”.
Come again?
Well, you’re cisgender, right?
As far as I know, yes.
Aha.
Hmmm?
You hedged.  “As far as I know” isn’t the same thing as “yes”.  “As far as I know” opens up the possibility that you could be trans and not know it.
It doesn’t seem terribly likely.
That’s an interesting statement.  Early on in transition one of the biggest problems I had was dealing with the sheer unlikelihood of my being trans.  I mean, I knew trans people existed.  I knew somebody had to be trans.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that it would be me.
Do you think this is why you’re on this whole “Kurt Cobain was a trans woman” kick?
Hey now, I’m just asking questions.  You know.  Like J.K. Rowling is “just asking questions”.
Kate, you are literally wearing a T-shirt that says “KURT COBAIN WAS A TRANS WOMAN” on it right now.
Am I?  Oh, shit.  I thought I was wearing my “Skip school, take hormones, kill God” T-shirt.  To your question, though - yeah, I do think that’s part of it.  Honestly, the hardest thing about growing up trans was believing that nobody in the world had ever experienced what I was experiencing.  I didn’t have any role models.  I didn’t wonder if I was the only one.  I was convinced of it.
So being able to say that this incredibly gifted songwriter, the voice of a generation, was a trans woman like you…
I need someone like that.  I need to not be the first of my kind.
Of course you’re not the first trans woman.
No, but before a couple of years ago almost every trans woman would tell you they always knew, unquestionably and innately, that they were women.
So it’s not just about him being trans, but specifically his being a trans woman who didn’t know he was a trans woman.
An egg.  Right.
Why Kurt Cobain, anyway?  What’s so special about him that you’re trying to induct him into the Egg Hall of Fame?
He knew things.  Things cis guys don’t know.  Things I didn’t know until after I started transition.  He understood women, what we’re like, what we experience.  “Pennyroyal Tea”.  “Rape Me”.  I just have a hard time thinking of a cis man who could write songs like that.
It wouldn’t be the only way in which he was exceptional.
True.  Ahhh.  I don’t know.  I mean, I know, I can give you all the reasons, but there’s something in his eyes.
Something in his eyes.
All the pictures of him.  No matter what he’s doing.  If he’s grinning, or sad, whatever he’s doing, you can see something trapped there.  Trapped and in pain, wanting to get out but not quite knowing how.
Huh.  You, uh, know that what you’re doing is pretty much the textbook definition of projection, right?
Maybe.  Chuck, do you think I’m happier?
Since you transitioned?
Yeah.
Of course.  Absolutely.  Night and day.
Everyone says that, and honestly, I see it.  Even in pictures, you know?  I see it.  You’ve seen some of my transition timelines, right?
You do look really different.
It’s not just me.  Every single person who transitions looks like that.  We look so much happier, so much more alive, so much more us.  I don’t understand how anybody can hate us.
I don’t get it either, Kate.
And when I look at any timelines, I look at the before photos… and I see something in their eyes.  Transmasc, transfem, doesn’t matter.  There’s something trapped wanting to get out.  Every picture I’ve ever seen of Kurt Cobain looks like the “before” picture on a transition timeline.  It’s just that with him, there aren’t any after pictures.
And it’s not just the eyes, either.  The way he dressed, the whole “grunge look”.  It’s just literally egg fashion.  We dress with total disregard for our appearance or how we look because no matter what we do it’s wrong.
“Egg fashion”, egg this, egg that… isn’t it a little bit anachronistic, judging him by 2022 standards, 2022 values?
Is it?  Chuck, I was alive in 1994.  I was an 18 year old egg.  I know what that feels like.  I know what that looks like.  I lived that.  Why didn’t I come out as trans in 1994?  Because I didn’t have the opportunity.  Because self-determination needs to be informed, and none of us were.  None of us.  Look.  You know what he said to Melody Maker in 1991?  “I knew I was different. I thought that I might be gay or something because I couldn't identify with any of the guys at all.”  That’s what he said.
Holy shit.  Really?
Really.  September 14, 1991.
Hold on, let me look that up.  Oh, yeah, I see it.  Look, if you look at the full quote he’s just saying he’s not a jock.  Like he didn’t fit in with the jocks. 
Well, what about the dresses?
What dresses?
Kurt Cobain wore a lot of dresses.  Like, a lot, both onstage and off.  On MTV in 1991, he said “It’s ‘Headbanger’s Ball’ so I thought I’d wear a gown.”  He said in a 1993 interview, “I personally like to wear dresses.  I wear them around the house sometimes.”  This is not some shameful secret he kept hidden from the world.  He was open about this.  He was proud about this.
Yeah, but… it’s just clothes.
Except it’s not just clothes.  Listen to his songs.  Listen to his lyrics.  “Should have been a son”.  “I’m a lady, can you save me?”  “Everyone is gay.”  The original lyrics to “All Apologies” from his journals – “Boys write songs for girls.  Let me grow some breasts.”
I mean they’re song lyrics.  There are all kinds of ways to interpret song lyrics.
Sure.  All kinds of ways.  You ever read Michael Azerrad’s biography of Cobain, Come As You Are?
Nope.
Azerrad spent weeks talking to Cobain.  He was Cobain’s biographer, but also his friend.  And he has his own interpretation of the lyrics.  For instance, Azerrad talks about all the lyrics about guns, and to me, now, I look at that, and I think of how he died, but Azerrad, when Kurt was alive, he looked at it another way.  He thought it’s about dicks.  “To paraphrase Dr. Freud,” he says, “sometimes a gun is just a gun.  But not this time.”  He talks about “Come As You Are”, where Kurt keeps singing “I swear I don’t have a gun.”  That’s not my interpretation.  That’s never been my interpretation.  That’s what this cis man says.  More than one cis man.  Kurt says Dave Grohl’s dad, he said the same thing.  Yeah.  There are all kinds of ways to interpret lyrics.
“By this time,” Azerrad wrote, “one begins to wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man at all.  His first response is revealing.  ‘I don’t know,’ he says.  ‘Castration.’”  I don’t wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man.  I rationalized “being a man” in all kinds of ways.  What strikes me is that he needed to rationalize being a man.  Had to come up with some kind of excuse.  It just strikes me kind of funny.
Kurt’s songs have meanings.   The lyrics to “In Bloom”, Kurt was pretty explicit about that.  The lyrics he wrote have meanings.  “Heart-Shaped Box”.  You know what that refers to?  When Courtney Love was flirting with Kurt, Michael Azerrad says in Come As You Are, “She gave Dave (Grohl) a package to give to Kurt – little sea shells and miniature teacups and a tiny doll, all packed into a small heart-shaped box.”  A tiny doll locked away inside a box shaped like a heart.  That was what I felt like before I came out.  A tiny phantom doll.  Kurt and Courtney first kissed after a show at the Cabaret Metro in Chicago.  Rumor was that they fucked against the bar, but they denied it.  What actually happened, Azerrad says, is that “Courtney had a bag of lingerie with her for some reason and Kurt ended up modeling the contents.”  And then they went to Kurt’s hotel room and they fucked.
You’re making it sound…
Maybe it was.  Because you look at that and you think that if it was like that, it was perverted and wrong, because that’s what you were told, that it’s a sick fetish thing, and I look at it and it isn’t.  To me, that’s normal.  That Kurt Cobain was sexually aroused while wearing Courtney Love’s lingerie, that’s normal.
Kate, he was a punk!  He hated jocks, and wearing a dress pissed off jocks, so he wore dresses.  He talked about wanting to wear a dress and piss on a redneck A&R man’s desk!  You think that was some kind of sex thing?
Sexuality is part of being a woman.  Part.  Rage – and Kurt Cobain had a lot of rage inside him – that’s another part.  Am I interpreting, am I looking at things from my perspective as a trans woman?  Yes, certainly, just like you’re interpreting, looking at it from your perspective as a cis man.  When cis people interpret things, their conclusion is never “they were trans”.  Never.
Ed Wood wasn’t a trans woman.  He was just a transvestite.  He was a man.
Pete Burns from Dead or Alive wasn’t a trans woman.  Sure, he got all sorts of feminizing surgeries, but he never said he was a woman.  Man.
Prince Nelson adopted a female persona, feminized his voice, and recorded a song about wanting to be a woman's girlfriend, but he was also a Christian and believed that being queer was wicked and sinful, and that's the identity of his we need to respect.  Man.
Richard Wright, who wrote the Phish song “Halley’s Comet”, spent most of the 1980s telling everyone he knew he was a transsexual lesbian named Nancy, but after being consistently treated like shit changed his mind about that, so none of that counts for anything.  Man.
Dave Carter was on HRT when he died, but he was just questioning.  He didn’t tell anybody for sure that he was a woman.  Man.
Quentin Crisp said just before he died that if he was younger, he absolutely would have transitioned, but wanting to transition isn’t the same as actually transitioning.  Man.
All men.  Always, always men, whatever they do, whatever they say.  I know how that works.  I was told all these same things about myself for decades, all these same reasons, and now, I don’t know, I guess people will make a personal exception for me, but for everybody else, the same old assumptions, the same old arguments, they still apply.  They’re still legitimate.
I thought we were talking about Kurt Cobain.
And the only way to do that is to talk about him in isolation.  There’s no larger context to consider, no bigger picture.  I can’t really know.  I can’t really judge.
I mean, everybody else does.  I guess I can’t tell you not to.  But all of this circumstantial evidence, all of the dresses and the lyrics that you I guess know the real meaning of – none of that makes him a girl.
Sure.  And nothing can make him a girl.  Because he’s dead.  Because he killed himself.
Oh, here we go.  After thirty years and countless speculation, you have at last uncovered the real reason Kurt Cobain killed himself – gender dysphoria.  Do you have a book deal yet?
Working on it.  And yes, people say a lot of stupid things about Cobain’s death, like it’s this big shock that this guy who hated himself and wanted to die killed himself.
Right.  He was pretty well-known for being a heroin addict, which isn’t exactly something that improves one’s quality of life.
Sure, but why did he start heroin?
I don’t know.  Why does anybody start heroin?
To help him cope with his eating disorder.
Wait, what?  Eating disorder?
You don’t know about that?  He had stomach problems, for a long, long time.  He could only eat certain kinds of food, certain kinds of food that wouldn’t make his stomach hurt.  Doctors looked but they could never find any organic cause for it.  Nobody took it seriously.  So he self-medicated with heroin.  “It was my choice,” he told Azerrad.  “I don’t regret it at all because it was such a relief from not having stomach pain every day.”  I know, though.  Lots of cis guys have eating disorders.  Doesn’t mean anything.
Kate there’s a lot of interpreting going on here.
Yeah, I guess there is.  Is that necessarily a bad thing, though?  Is that necessarily wrong?  Like.  You’ve seen The Matrix, right?
Only the first one.
Yeah, that’s fine.  So you know how important The Matrix is to a lot of trans women, right?
Yes, but I’m not really sure why.  Just seems like a retelling of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” with extra fight scenes.
It’s pretty trans, though, right?
Clearly.  It was directed by two trans women.
And trans women who watch it – eggs or otherwise – find their own lives and experiences reflected in it in ways that cis people, like you, don’t.
I guess, but the fact that it was actually made by two trans women carries a little more weight with me.
OK, but what if the Wachowskis had died in 2000?  In, like… a car crash or something?  Does that mean The Matrix isn’t a trans film?
Well, no, because it’s still a film made by two trans women.
A film made by two trans women that speaks to the trans experience, and that is recognized by living trans women as speaking specifically to the trans experience.  The only difference is that, in this scenario, nobody knows the Wachowski Sisters are trans women.  And we can’t prove it.  We can’t possibly prove it, and nobody is going to just believe us when we say it’s a trans movie, that the Wachowskis were trans women, because they didn’t say it, they didn’t say the special magic words.  Self-determination.  You know what self-determination meant to Kurt Cobain?  I remember seeing Courtney Love on television reading his note, I remember her interrupting to say that he was an asshole, that what he was saying was bullshit.  She didn’t respect his self-determination.
Um…
“Pennyroyal Tea”.  Cobain told Azerrad “It's a cleansing theme where I’m trying to get all my bad evil spirits out of me and drinking Pennyroyal tea would cleanse that away.”  Pennyroyal is an abortifacient – but, Azerrad notes, only in lethal doses. 
Hell, not just that song.  The whole album.  In Utero.  The collage on the back cover, the one Cobain described to Azerrad as “Sex and woman and In Utero and vaginas and birth and death".  The occult symbols surrounding it, taken from Barbara G. Walker’s The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects1.  There was something inside Kurt Cobain, something inside him waiting to be born, but he was told, over and over, that it was a monster, so he killed it, the only way he could.  By killing himself.
That could have been me.  That could so easily have been me.  I was told all the same things he was.  We all were.  When I was 27?  When I was 27, I was addicted to benzos, benzos they prescribed me because I was trying to bury, trying to kill this thing, this thing I had inside of me.  I was a zombie.  Walking dead.  When I quit, I quit cold turkey.  Nobody told me about the withdrawal syndrome.  Nobody told me it could have killed me.  And if it had, everybody would remember me, everybody would think of me, as a cis man.  Forever.  They would perpetuate the Lie.  That’s why I transitioned, why I chose to go through all the shit I went through.  The writer and musician Margaret Killjoy, in 2017 she talked about what she went through the day before she came out:
“All I could think was: ‘Oh god, I don’t want to die a boy.’”2
I felt the same way, came out for the same reason.  I figured no matter what I did, I was dead.  I didn’t do it live, but to at least have an honest death.  I genuinely believed transition would kill me.
It didn’t, though!  You’re alive and you’re beautiful and I’m so, so glad for that.  It didn’t kill you.
It could have.  Still could.  Transition has helped, has made it easier­ for me, but it’s not that way with everyone.  People have been kind to me, in ways that they aren’t kind to other trans women.  Others of us… aren’t so lucky.
Who are we respecting, exactly, by remaining silent about our shared experiences, our shared perspectives, things we see that you fucking don’t, that you can’t see?  Of course I can’t prove it.  I can’t prove that I’m trans.  You can’t prove that you’re cis.  Cis people, though, cis people never have to prove anything.  Their prejudices are the null hypothesis3.  If I was to go out there and say that Kurt Cobain was a cisgender man, would anybody say I was wrong?  Would anybody object or complain?  Even though my saying that is an anachronism, is meaningless.  The word, the concept, it literally didn’t exist when Cobain died.  Have you ever heard the word “agnotology”?
No?
It means making a false claim to ignorance.  Claiming that we don’t know something that we do.  That we can’t know something that we can.  We know things now, Chuck.  We know what the symptoms of gender dysphoria are.  We know what it does to people.  How eggs think.  How eggs act.  How eggs die.  But we pretend we don’t.  We still pretend.  We pretend suicide is an individual act, even when we know it’s not, that the reasons for it are wholly personal.  We pretend that when someone dies by suicide, their reasons for doing so die with them.  And they don’t, Chuck.  We’re still dying, still dying for the same reasons Kurt Cobain did.  It’s not just that we aren’t allowed to recognize ourselves.  We aren’t allowed to recognize each other.  Individual choice or social contagion.  Those are the options we’re given.  And neither of them are right.  Neither of them are who we are.
Kurt Cobain wrote, thought, talked, died like eggs do.  I don’t care if he never said the magic fucking words.  We know our own.  We recognize each other.  And if someone is alive?  If someone is alive I will go my whole life without ever breathing a word.  Because as long as we’re alive, we do choose, and that means we can choose ignorance.  What I think, what I want, for someone else, for us, it doesn’t matter.  I do that, I follow that code, for the benefit of one person – the egg themselves.  Once they die, all bets are off.  Omerta no longer applies.  Kayfabe no longer applies.
To be queer is to be erased, to experience erasure.  I still hear straight men arguing, as if they have any right to argue, as if they know, that Emily Dickinson was not a lesbian.  Emily Dickinson!  I’m supposed to listen to people who say this shit?  I’m supposed to take them seriously when they say well, actually, calling Dickinson a “lesbian” is historically anachronistic, we can’t apply the standards of the present to the past, and Jesus fuck have you read her letters?  She liked girls.  She really liked girls.  Kurt Cobain was a trans woman.  Kurt Cobain was every bit as much a trans woman as Emily Dickinson was a lesbian.  Refusing to say it isn’t “respect”.  It’s perpetuating the crime perpetrated against Cobain, against every other trans woman who ever killed herself because of the lies we were told about ourselves.  No more.  Kurt Cobain was a trans woman.  I can’t, as an individual, say that.  I don’t have the right.  No trans woman can say that, individually.  But collectively?  All of us together?  The things we see in each other, we see those things in him too.  Not all of them, and not all of us.  Absolutely not all of us.  But enough of us.  Enough that we have the right.  We have the right, and I will fucking say it, and if you don’t like that, you can go fuck yourself.
Kate, are you ok?
I’m fine.
Do you want a hug?
Fuck you, Chuck.
OK, well.  I’m, uh.  Gonna go to the other room.  You should, uh.  Drink some water.  Stay hydrated.  Love you, Kate.
Love you too, Chuck.  Sorry.
Shhh.  It’s OK, Kate.  It’s OK.
1 Diane Purkiss criticizes the occult nature of Walker’s encyclopedia in "Women's Rewriting of Myth", in Carolyne Larrington (ed), The Feminist Companion to Mythology, London, 1992, p. 444: “In Donna Haraway's influential terms, these women may wish to be goddesses, but they are cyborgs all the same”. The work she’s referencing is Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto”.  Haraway was, it happens, an academic advisor to the trans woman Sandy Stone, and her “Cyborg Manifesto” was a pivotal influence on Stone’s “The Empire Strikes Back: A Post-Transsexual Manifesto”, one of the foundational works of transgender theory.
2 Margaret Killjoy, https://birdsbeforethestorm.net/2017/06/im-not-even-going-to-try-to-pass/
3 Natalie Reed, https://freethoughtblogs.com/nataliereed/2012/04/17/the-null-hypothecis/
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hey-august · 4 months
Text
Negotiating with pirates | NSFW (Cross Guild x afab!reader)
Description: After accidentally ending up as a bargaining chip during Cross Guild negotiations, you eagerly accept the chance to protect your captain and end up between Mihawk and Crocodile.
Word count: ~2.6k
A/N: One shot smut. Reader has an established relationship with Buggy. Let me know if you see any errors or typos. ♡
Warnings: Not beta read. NC-17. → MDNI ← sub!reader, cuck!buggy, dom!mihawk, dom!crocodile. Threesome, PIV, oral m receiving, vaginal fingering, creampie. afab!reader, no use of Y/N. All parties are consenting adults.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
A Cross Guild meeting was getting heated, more so than usual. A contract that failed under Buggy’s involvement was construed as debt the figurehead clown owed. An increasingly panicked Buggy offered anything to assuage the anger of his furious “companions” and to reduce any debt that they imposed on him.
“What do you have that we can’t get ourselves?” Sir Crocodile asked disdainfully. Buggy floundered. His mouth was faster than his mind, but there must be something he could offer. Propose. Promise.
“I can think of something he has…or should I say someone,” Mihawk remarked. This was an uncomfortable observation. 
The trio rarely spoke about personal matters, and definitely never intentionally, however it wasn’t a secret that Buggy had a hook-up. A dedicated partner. This was a fact that the other two would say they didn’t care about. Truthfully, Mihawk had some thoughts. More like a passing interest in why - out of anyone else you could pick - were you with the clown. Maybe you didn’t know what else the world had to offer and this was his chance to show you.
The rest of the discussion, if you could call it that, happened in a blur. Buggy’s wavering voice was overpowered by the two former warlords negotiating on his behalf. When Buggy realized that he had become an accessory once again, he bounced in his seat, trying to alleviate the nervous energy flooding his body. The two commanding pirates set the place and time, which was not far from this moment. As the clown hurried out of the room, Crocodile called out a demand in a puff of smoke, telling Buggy to pick out your outfit. 
“When we undress her, I want to be pulling off clothes that you picked out for us.”
Buggy’s panic took on a different tone as he seeked you out. You both had spoken about his cuckold fantasies, but never did anything to make them reality. And now…well it was a classic Buggy mistake. When he finally told you what happened, he had tears in his eyes. Even he doesn’t know if they’re from worry about how you’ll react or fear of what Mihawk and Crocodile will do if you disagree. Or maybe the tears held hopeful anxiety that you might go along with the plan.
Relief washed over Buggy when you agreed. It wasn’t his tears or trembling grasp that convinced you, but your adoration for the pirate clown. For once, you had power that could help him. Not only could this garner favor for your captain, but the heat in his shaky hands told you that he had a personal interest in this idea. You could benefit your captain and fulfill your partner’s fantasy, all while getting intimately familiar with some of the most powerful pirates around.
When the appointed time arrived, Buggy walked you to Mihawk’s quarters. He didn’t guide the way so much as herd you. The clown’s jittery nerves had him flitting around, caught in your orbit. Buggy was a one-man surround sound system - apologizing for putting you in this position, professing his love,  telling you to not be nervous or scared, reminding you to say “lighthouse” if you needed to stop, calling you gorgeous, and whining about how hard he was already.
Buggy pulled open the door and let you step into the eagle’s nest first. Partly because you were the visitor they were waiting for, but also to watch how the skirt he chose flounced around your ass while you walked. Crocodile sat back on an ornate sofa, a hazy cloud of smoke circling his head. Mihawk stood nearby, closing whatever discussion they were having before you two arrived. The swordsman held out a hand, beckoning you to come closer. The atmosphere in the room was heavy. Intense. But the attention Mihawk sent your way felt lighter and inviting. When you placed your hand on his, it was the final piece of your confirmation to participate in this arrangement.
A pointed look from Mihawk and a dismissive wave from Crocodile sent Buggy slinking away to a seat on the far side of the room. You turned to watch your captain, but a slender finger on your chin stopped your movement. Mihawk turned your gaze back towards him as his golden eyes looked you up and down.
“Crocodile…” His companion grunted an acknowledgement, already aware of Mihawk’s thoughts.
“Clown, this is really the outfit you picked for us?” Crocodile said, clearly displeased with your attire. 
To be fair, it wasn’t particularly sexy or revealing. It was one of your normal outfits, maybe a little more composed than others. It fit well and flattered your figure. You chimed in before Buggy could speak, wanting to divert negative attention away from him.
“What’s wrong with it?” 
Following Mihawk’s hesitation, you grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand under your top, letting him graze your bare breast. He squeezed firmly, his touch cool against the heat you were radiating and sent chills through your body. Mihawk felt your nipple harden in response to his touch and gave it a gentle tweak, drinking in the sound of your feather-soft sigh and the intoxicating expression he extracted. Your eyes fluttered under your crinkled brows as you tried to maintain eye contact.
Your hand was still on his wrist and you wanted to show him the other positive benefit of this outfit. Mihawk tensed for a brief moment, reluctant to let you control his body before giving in. You moved his hand under your short skirt, slowly drifting it up the skin of your hip. Teasing both yourself and the pirate in front of you.
“I see,” he murmured while grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin soft and supple against his touch, “it’s not about what you’re wearing, but what you don’t have on. Is that right?”
“Hawkeye gets it! Now you’ll always wonder if there’s anything underneath,” Buggy called out proudly, pleased with his contribution. From this moment on, Mihawk and Crocodile will question what you are, or aren’t, wearing. And if this outfit survives, it will remind you and Buggy of how you were shared between the fierce pirates. It’s a win-win-win.
Ignoring Buggy’s remark, Mihawk kept his attention on you. He pulled away his hand and replaced it on the small of your back, guiding you closer to Crocodile.
“Tell us, did your captain adequately inform you about this agreement?” Mihawk questioned, wanting to be sure you were aware of your involvement here. You nodded and acknowledged that your role was to offset any debt Buggy owed the two men in front of you. Mihawk appeared satisfied with your run-down, giving you courage to share an additional thought floating in your head.
“I’d like to add an amendment.” You felt your small flame of courage flicker under the change in atmosphere as you finished this sentence. Crocodile, who seemed to have been looking through you, was now paying rapt attention. There was an uncomfortable stillness from the area of the room where Buggy was sitting - a bad sign, since he usually had trouble sitting still and containing his nerves. With one foot in the door, you pushed on.
“I don’t like seeing Bu- Captain Buggy get hurt. Whatever frustrations you were going to take out on him, I want you to use me instead.”
If you thought the quiet in the room a moment ago was oppressive, this was a new level. If it wasn’t from the smoke still drifting from Croc, you wouldn’t be sure if anyone was breathing. Despite having Mihawk’s hand resting on your back and Crocodile close enough to touch, you felt as though you isolated yourself. Alone and adrift in a dangerous sea, surrounded by danger.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” Sir Crocodile’s deep voice finally broke the spell in the room. In the corner of your eye, Mihawk nodded in agreement. “I don’t think you can take it.” The Desert King spoke his piece as if it was the end of your bargaining. You were not ready to give up, even with his dominating aura threatening to snuff the remainder of bravery in your body.
“I’d like to try.” Four simple words brought a smile to Crocodile’s face. A dangerous look.
“You’re going to regret this,” Mihawk said quietly, with a sliver of hungry anticipation. For the first time since stepping into the room, you felt small. Fragile under the intensity required to become a former warlord of the sea. 
Sir Crocodile extended his large hand. Before you could consider changing your mind - not that they would allow that - you shook, sealing the deal. Before you could release his hand, Crocodile pulled you closer. The way his hand enveloped yours and the rough pull had heat pooling in your core.
“Mihawk’s right. You’re going to regret this deal. Unlike the others, I don’t care about you one way or another. I’m only here for my own pleasure.”
Spurred by false-confidence from your successful bartering, you firmly met Crocodile’s stare.
“If that’s the case, then why are you still talking to me instead of fucking me?”
Your boldness wavered as Crocodile leaned forward and grabbed your chin. Mihawk’s hands on your shoulders sent chills down your spine and made your knees weak. However, it was Crocodile’s cold hook pressing against your slick heat that broke you. A docile lamb at the mercy of two hungry predators.
Time passed in a blur. Hands, mouths, cocks, countless orgasms, kisses, bites, bruises, all of which left your mind spinning. Dirty commands and sweet praises went in one ear and out the other. Heavy moans, groans and whimpers, even periodic commentary from your kind captain filled the room.
“Don’t hold back, she likes it that way.” “Pretty girl, you look so good riding my cock.” “Squeeze your tits for me, dear.” “Cumming on my hand like that makes you look desperate.” “Tell me, does your captain fuck you like this?” “She loves the taste of cum, make her swallow it all.”
Only flashes stuck in your hazy memory. You recall one particular moment stuck between the pirates. Despite being on your hands and knees, you were barely able to keep yourself steady. Instead, you chose to lean into Mihawk’s hold on your hips as his eager cock bullied your dripping cunt. Your mouth ached as Crocodile languidly slid in and out, caressing your jaw and enjoying the vibrations from your endless moaning.
One poorly positioned thrust from Mihawk had him slam into you uncomfortably - nearly painfully. Your body rocked forwards, almost instinctively, trying to move away from the discomfort. Unfortunately, this pushed Crocodile further down your throat, which constricted around him as your gag reflex kicked in.
“Aw poor thing, you’d rather choke on my cock?” Crocodile rumbled as he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes. “You know I won’t hurt you accidentally, hm? Unlike Mihawk, I know what I’m doing.”
His comments only served to spur on the swordsman, who directed all his attention to making you feel good. An accomplishment he felt satisfied with when you cried his name the loudest during your orgasms.
Eventually, you could tell that Crocodile and Mihawk were becoming worn out. Their movements were sloppy, far less intentional or calculated. They had trouble keeping their strength restrained as they grabbed you and maneuvered your weary body, leaving bruises that formed quickly. Each load they left in or on you felt less heavy than the last. The click of Crocodile’s lighter and the scent of tobacco filling the room were the white flags that signaled the end. Your body relaxed, sinking into the sticky sheets underneath you.
“You should tell your captain thank you,” Mihawk murmured against your ear in between soft kisses. 
He pulled his body away from yours as you tilted your head to face Buggy, who was already standing at the edge of the bed. Mihawk hooked a hand around your knee and tugged, easing your sore legs apart. The gesture pulled Buggy’s attention to your beautiful cunt. Cum trickled from your overused hole with each breath and heartbeat, a pool collecting under your body.
Buggy’s hand was furiously pumping his own deprived cock, which was weeping for you. His attention snapped between the glistening treasure between your legs and your face, which was flushed with lust and pride. Words poured from Buggy’s mouth as he poised himself to decorate your heaving chest.
“You did s-so good, you’re such a good little slut.” “I watched the whole time, my little star.” “Just lay there, beautiful, m’so c-close…”
His cum felt hot against your cooling skin, carrying the warmth of his passion and care for you. Buggy leaned in and captured your mouth in a kiss full of emotion. Adoration, appreciation, and a slightly bittersweet hint of an apology for spurring on these events, even though you both clearly enjoyed things.
Buggy expected Mihawk to be upset about the state of his personal belongings. His obviously expensive sheets were beyond saving and it’s very likely that some fluids leaked through to the mattress below. But there was a softness in Mihawk’s eyes as he surveyed your exposed body draped across his bed - a sensual, albeit lewd, work of art. Buggy let Mihawk commit this vision to memory before mentioning that you’d need help cleaning up.
Before Mihawk could tend to you, Crocodile’s hook stopped him. You could barely make out the enigmatic look on his face through your half-lidded eyes. He placed his hand on your thigh, which quivered under the weight. His attention traveled upwards until his fingers brushed against your swollen, sensitive folds. A careful swipe of two fingers scooped up some of the cum that trickled out, which he then eased back into you. You gasped at the intrusion as your body fluttered helplessly around Crocodile’s large fingers. Weakly, you grabbed Crocodile’s wrist as he curled his fingers, already knowing your body inside and out. It only took a few choice movements and a swipe of his thick thumb against your clit to have you shaking under his touch, succumbing to yet another orgasm. 
Satisfied with your encore, Crocodile took a towel from Mihawk and wiped his sticky fingers before moving onto your body. The pirates made quick work of caring for your worn out body, cautious of your aching muscles and tender skin. Finally, Buggy wrapped you in his embrace to carry you back to his quarters for a bath and additional tender care.
---
It seemed that everyone’s expectations were fulfilled. The two former warlords upheld the end of the bargain they struck with you, as Buggy rarely returned with injuries. For a time.
About a week later and even you could feel emotions rising. Agitation and tension carried through the air behind each of the three pirates, with a breaking point close behind. Once again, a meeting behind closed doors was escalating. Threads of an argument trickled through the closed door, a warning for others to stay away. A warning you chose to ignore.
A knock on the door interrupted the meeting and before Sir Crocodile could dismiss the unwelcome visitor, you stepped in with a tray of refreshments. You ignored the blush dusting your cheeks as Mihawk’s eyes swept your body, clothed in an outfit he was intimately familiar with, and placed the tray on the table.
“Perhaps we are due for a break. Why don’t you join us?” Mihawk disguised his command as a question. Choosing to take the statement at face value, you turned towards your captain and feigned innocence.
“May I?” Your request was quickly answered with a nervous but expectant nod, Buggy's hat nearly tumbling off his head from the movement. Following Buggy’s agreement, you chose to settle down on his lap before turning your attention to his companions. The bemused looks on their faces told you that they knew you were toying with them.
“Get the fuck over here.”
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apomaro-mellow · 3 months
Text
Every Baby Needs a Daddy 7
Part 6
The idea of sharing space on a tour bus was a little daunting, even though Steve had met the rest of the band. He was glad to see how big it was, and especially glad when Eddie led him to the back of the bus where the bedroom was. It had a bed big enough for two, but that was about it. It was more than enough for him.
"The boys will be bunking on the pull-outs out there", Eddie jabbed his thumb back to the rest of the bus.
They were setting out for the first destination on their tour, New York, which would take them about half a day to get to.
"Can't believe I get to go on tour with you. I feel like an actual groupie."
Eddie hopped onto the bed and laid on his side. "You gonna toss your underwear to me?", he grinned.
"Why would I? I already got on the band's bus", Steve smirked, hands on his hips. He glanced out the bedroom door to where the rest of the band was pretending not to be interested in their conversation.
“And they’re really okay with giving us the only actual bedroom on the bus?”
“Sweet thing, they insisted”, Eddie said, laying back to spread out on the sheets. “I think they’re enamored with you.”
Steve beamed as he sat on the edge of the bed, lasting only a few seconds before Eddie grabbed at him. Joy bubbled forth from Steve and he didn’t even mind if Jeff and the others heard Eddie macking on him right now.
“I’ve never been on a tour bus before.”
"Well allow me to give you the official welcome", Eddie said before rolling Steve onto his back and kissing at his neck. "We got hours to ourselves, baby."
"Oh, whatever will we do?", Steve sighed.
Eddie rose up on his hands and knees to look down at the gorgeous man under him. And just in time for the bus to lurch forward and make him fall over the side of the bed with a yelp. Grant came to the door.
"You guys, uh, want this closed?", he asked, ignoring Eddie crumpled on the floor.
---------------------
For about the first hour, Steve watched the scenery go by the window and Eddie went over the basics of their itinerary. Starting from New York, they'd be cruising down the east coast.
"It's probably not as grand as the worldly traveling you've done before but I intend to show you a good time", Eddie promised, tracing the lines in Steve's palm.
"Actually, I haven't traveled all that much", Steve admitted. "When you're raising up a proper omega, you can't just let them loose unsupervised. I've been to California and Washington a couple of times with my parents but besides that..."
"Then I'm really gonna show you a good time."
"You can start right now. Bus isn't stopping for a few hours, right?" Steve pushed Eddie onto his back and rolled on top of him. In preparation for this trip both of them had been tested and been given a clean bill of health. Steve's cunt was already clenching at the thought of finally getting Eddie's bare knot. Of feeling his cum coating his insides.
There was something primal about it this time, as Eddie was fucking Steve. Not in any way that was ferocious or intense but in the setting and situation. Grant, Jeff, and Gareth had only great things to say about Steve, seemingly already accepting him as a pack omega. Being given the only private space on the bus, this room was like his own personal den, admittance to him and his omega only.
With his best friends just outside the door, surely knowing what they were getting up to even though there was plenty of noise to cover it, it was like they were sentinels guarding. How could his hindbrain think of this as anything less than a breeding session?
Steve was on his hands and knees, arching his back as Eddie thrust into him. He had started out trying to be quiet, but was sobbing now, begging Eddie not to stop.
Delirious with desire, Eddie started biting at the moles on Steve's back, leaving marks of his own. When he got to his neck, he put his teeth away but nudged at Steve's mating gland. A move so bold and unexpected, it had Steve crying out as he milked his cock. Eddie's teeth itched to sink down and make it official but he bit into Steve's shoulder instead, almost but not drawing blood.
He was still thinking about it hours later, when they arrived in New York and started preparing for the show. Tonight was just rehearsal and sound check for the real thing tomorrow night. Steve wanted to go and even pouted to get his way, but Eddie was certain he'd be bored and not so subtly told him about the hotel's spa.
After a massage, he went into the sauna and saw that there was another omega already inside.
"Did your alpha miss?", she asked the moment he sat down.
"Hm?"
She tapped the bite mark on his shoulder. "Did he miss?"
It wasn't proper to ask about bite marks in any capacity, only for the own of such marks to offer if they felt the information relevant.
"I don't have an alpha", Steve said, though it felt wrong to say.
"So just someone who's keeping you for now?", she asked.
Steve thought about it. Between the gifts and traveling and shopping, he was being wonderfully kept. "I suppose so."
"You must be new at this. I'm Heather. Can I offer you a bit of advice?"
"Steve and um, sure I guess."
"You can't let your generous sponsor bite you like that. The next one that comes won't like it. Might even give you something more permanent just to compete."
"You've had a lot of... 'sponsors'?", Steve asked.
"Mostly CEOs, an actor once. You?"
"He's a musician."
"Really? Anyone I know?", she looked intrigued.
Steve thought about how he'd known zilch about Corroded Coffin or Eddie before meeting him, but then remembered how his attention on the latest music trends was also next to nothing.
"You might. I'm not actually sure how popular they are." He hadn't seen the venue to know how many concert attendees to expect.
"Oh, well, you know what they say. If they haven't got a million than a half will do."
"Right", Steve gave a half-hearted laugh. It had him thinking for the first time if he'd be into Eddie at all were it not for the money. If all he had to offer was that one drink the night they met...
Steve thought about how they'd spent a decent part of the trip discussing chocolate chips versus chocolate chunks and how they'd gotten the rest of the band involved to the point where they had to make the bus stop at the nearest grocery store. It felt safe to say that even without the money lining his pockets, Eddie would have charmed him some kind of way.
That night, they got in bed early but were awakened by the sounds of the others coming into their hotel suite to make breakfast.
"And how did you know we weren't in the middle of coitus?", Eddie flicked a grape at Gareth.
"That was a chance we were willing to take", Jeff said.
Eddie was shirtless, walking around in Garfield patterned pajama pants. Steve had the decency to put one of the hotel's bathrobes.
"This is a CC tradition", Grant said. "Breakfast before the inaugural show of a tour. Then dinner after the last one."
"Everyone shows up, no exceptions", Gareth said.
"None?", Steve asked, accepting a mug of coffee that Eddie had made.
"One time Jeff got into a brawl right after the show. We had our dinner at the hospital", Eddie said.
"Well I'm honored to be a part of such a hallowed tradition", Steve smiled at the implication.
Day turned to night and they arrived at the venue. Steve looked out into the vast sea of empty seats and imagined them filled with screaming people. Eddie gave him a quick tour of backstage and even let him come up on the actual stage itself.
"Can't believe you actually perform like this, I could never."
"Oh I was born to entertain", Eddie grinned. And tonight, he planned on showing out. It would be Steve's first time, seeing and hearing them live. His blood pulsed as the hour got closer.
Show him my talents. Show him I'm worthy. Worthy to be his alpha.
Steve was all set up in the green room but of course had a pass that allowed him to roam backstage if he pleased. The boys also used the space to get ready for the show and he saw that they all had a pin with a horned red demonic head.
"What's this?", Steve asked, fiddling with the pin on Eddie's vest.
"Something from our old high school club. Keeps us from forgetting our roots."
"That's...really sweet." They'd known each other for so long. Steve was realizing how incredible it was that he'd been allowed into the fold like this.
The show finally started and at first, Steve watched a feed from the green room. He'd listened to a few songs but it was still a surprise to hear the way Jeff growled into the mic. It was hard for him to take his eyes off Eddie though. And soon, watching from a TV, no matter how clear the image was, wasn't enough. He put in the earplugs Eddie had given him and he left the green room.
Like a magnet, he went to the wings of the stage, still mostly hidden, but he could see everyone in the band from where he was standing. The crowd was a sea of energy and Eddie looked like there was no place he'd rather be. That is until he caught sight of Steve. His feet were frozen in place now but his hands kept moving against the guitar.
Steve bit his lip, thinking about how those same fingers moved on his body and made him sing in much the same way. Tonight he was going to give this man the ride of his life. His thighs rubbed together just thinking about it and Eddie's eyes caught the movement. Then his gaze met Steve and Steve just winked coyly.
The song ended and both of them were brought back to the present moment. Taking a breath, Steve took a step back and returned to the green room. It was a lot, being right there. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to actually be on stage. The concert went on and after thanking their fans for a stellar time, Corroded Coffin bid them good night. Eddie was the first one through the door which was good because Steve had been standing right behind it.
"Well?", he asked, wrapping his arms around the omega.
"You guys were great! Incredible!"
"Aw shucks, you're just sayin' that", Gareth smiled.
Steve was saying something in response, but Eddie only caught part of it. He was always keyed up after a good performance and needed something to help him burn off the extra energy. Usually in the form of an after-party or sex. He nuzzled at Steve's neck, holding him close. He did good. Steve thought he'd done good. No, he said great. Incredible. Steve had even come to see him with his own eyes. And he'd gotten turned on watching him play, Eddie knew it. He'd responded to his call.
"Are you, are you scenting me?", Steve asked quietly.
Eddie paused. They always carried each other's scent for a little while after sex, but this had been more purposeful. Eddie finally recognized the familiar itch under his skin and pushed Steve away, nearly throwing him at Grant.
"I gotta go", he said, leaving the room quick as lightning.
"What was that all about?", Steve asked, looking to the others. But they were just as confused as him.
Chrissy came in just about a minute after, her face like stone as she closed the door behind her. "The schedule's going to need some adjusting", she said. "Eddie just went into rut."
Part 8
Tag Team
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Note
Halo bby! <3
Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔
hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)
Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:
I didn’t proof read this my apologies
MDNI
cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.
You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!
‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’
After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.
But oh, you could not relate.
After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.
Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.
“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks
“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.
“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.
“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”
Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.
“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.
“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.
“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”
You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.
“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.
“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.
You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.
Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.
He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.
Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.
While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.
That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.
“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.
You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.
You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.
“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”
Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉
You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.
You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.
“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.
“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.
Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!
“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.
“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.
You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.
“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.
“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.
“No baby, I want to face the other way.”
“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.
You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.
Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.
Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.
“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”
Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.
“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”
“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.
You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.
“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.
“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.
“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.
“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.
Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?
You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.
“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.
His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”
Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”
You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.
Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.
“Say it again…” he moans.
“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.
“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.
“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck
“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,
“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.
Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.
“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.
“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before
“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.
“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.
His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…
“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!
You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.
“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.
“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.
“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.
Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.
He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.
“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.
You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.
“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.
“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.
He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.
“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.
Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.
You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.
“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.
“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.
You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.
“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.
You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.
You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”
His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”
You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”
“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.
“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.
You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.
Dear Doctor Yeager,
Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.
- world famous Satoru Gojo
he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.
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Errors, “Errors,” and Sci Fi
@strawberry-crocodile
tvtropes calls stuff like the wolf example "science matches on" which I think is a pretty fair shake
This.  This is what’s got me thinking so much about errors.  There’s a certain danger, here.  A certain way that this particular effect — delicious dramatic irony — tempts the mind when reading old stories, even true ones.
What do you know about R.M.S. Titanic? I ask my class every year, and the first hand rises.  “It was unsinkable,” the student inevitably says, and everyone is nodding, “or so they thought.”  I write the word UNSINKABLE on the board, underneath my crude drawing of a ship with four smokestacks.  It will be crossed out before the end of the hour, but not for the reason they expect.
“I find no evidence,” Walter Lord, preeminent biographer of the ship’s survivors, wrote, “that Titanic was ever advertised as unsinkable. This detail seems to have entered the collective mind so as to create a more perfect irony.”  Indeed, historians’ examinations of White Star Line documents show the shipbuilders themselves worried it would be so large as to risk collision; they stocked several more lifeboats than 1910s regulations required.
The War to End All Wars (deep breath, satisfied exhale), also known as World War ONE. Chuckle.  Shake of the head.  What if I told you that this phrase, used primarily in American newspapers after the fact, wasn’t meant to be literal? Nowadays we’d say The Mother of All Wars, or One Hell of a Fucking War, but we wouldn’t mean literal motherhood, literal intercourse.  What if I said the armistice and the Lost Generation and the Roaring 20s were all braced for another outbreak of European conflict, and yet we still failed to prevent it?
Did you know they were so confident in the safety of the S.S. Challenger that they put a civilian schoolteacher onboard? I do, because I’ve heard that one repeated many times.  Only, see, it’s got the cause and effect reversed.  Challenger launched on a day the shuttle’s engineers knew to be dangerously cold, because the first civilian in space was on board. And NASA knew its shuttle project would be cancelled entirely, if they couldn’t get that civilian’s much-delayed entry into space in the next two weeks.  So they launched on a cold day, and killed her instead.
These are all what cognitive science calls Hindsight Bias on the personal level, what sociology calls Presentism on the cultural level.  Social psychology’s a little of both, is primarily interested in why you’re sitting on your couch in a Colonize Mars shirt watching PBS and chuckling at the fools who believed in El Dorado.  It wants to know why the mind flees straight from “marijuana will kill you” to “marijuana will cure cancer” without so much as a pause on the middle ground of its real benefits and drawbacks, its real (mild) risks and rewards.
And they can paralyze the sci-fi writer, if you think too much about them. Jetsons is futurist one decade, retro the next.  “There are no bathrooms on the Enterprise,” the creators of Serenity say smugly, as if Gene Roddenberry should’ve simply known that decades later it’d be acceptable to show a man peeing in full view of the camera, nothing but the curve of the actor’s hand to protect his modesty.  “No sound in space,” the Fandom Menace says, “No explosions in space,” and “A space station can’t collapse in zero-G.”  Only then NASA burns a paper napkin outside of atmosphere, transmits music using only the ghost of nearby planets’ gravities, and logs onto Reddit long enough to point out the Death Star would implode in its own gravity field.  And now we’re the ones pointing, the ones laughing, at those earlier point-and-laughers.  Self-satisfied, smug in superiority.  As if we did the work to find out ourselves, instead of just happening to be born a little later than George Lucas.
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mysteryshoptls · 6 months
Text
SR Leona Kingscholar - Playful Dress Voice Lines
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Summon Line: Huh, so this is the amusement park I've heard so much about. Alright then, you all go and enjoy yourselves. Meet back at the pavilion once it gets dark.
Groooovy!!: Hey, you better get up on stage, too. What, you think you're the only one allowed to stay in the audience?
Home: Sure hope we can actually enjoy ourselves.
Swap Looks: Well, ain't this just tasteful.
Home Idle 1: Fellow is a typical omnivore. He'll wag his tail at both the carnivores and herbivores, just to swipe the tastiest morsels he can.
Home Idle 2: An interactive story ride? Not interested, go ride it yourself. I'm the type who'd rather read a nice long book.
Home Idle 3: That guy Sebek says that he couldn't possibly skip classes, as he's striving to be a retainer worthy of his liege. Heh, he takes things way too seriously.
Home Idle - Login: What kind of amusement park has some shady-lookin' fox mascot greeting you at the front? Can't wait to see what else we're in store here.
Home Idle - Groovy: This attraction's not too terrible. It's a snooze-fest, but there's basically no line, so I like it.
Home Tap 1: Never thought I'd ever find myself wearin' something as festive as this... And what's with this purposefully prepared lion motif on my outfit?
Home Tap 2: They got bone-in meat to eat right there, and you still order the salad. And that's why you're a herbivore.
Home Tap 3: If you're lookin' for someone to escort you 'round the amusement park, ask Trey, not me. I bet he'd be happy to take the lead.
Home Tap 4: I'm gettin' on that carriage over there. Ain't no way I'm gonna walk all over this huge park.
Home Tap 5: You don't have to call my name over and over again, I hear you. I'm just staying silent so I don't ruin all your amusement park excitement.
Home Tap - Groovy: A horror attraction? Sure, I'll tag along with you for that, 'cause I bet I'll get to hear some good screams from you herbivores.
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Requested by Anonymous.
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fanwarriorfictions · 3 days
Text
Not Again - Part Nine
Summary: Y/n is desperate to try and get home, willing to face near death again to try if she must. Azriel is not willing to let her risk herself, and fortunately neither is the rest of his family.
Warnings: she’s a little angsty
Series Masterlist
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-Part Nine-
“You’re not trying it again,” Azriel snarls, arms crossed over his chest, “We don’t even know what went wrong in the first place, you could’ve died.”
Y/n sighs, rubbing her temples, they’d been at this for hours now, surrounded by the inner court. So far, no one seemed to be on her side, least of all Azriel. As soon as the words had left her mouth he’d been seething, that quiet calm mask replaced by burning rage.
“Give me the book of breathings and I’ll figure it out,” Y/n snaps back, bearing all of her teeth at him, “I must have misread something. Maybe the ancient busy body will have answers for me.”
“You’re not going anywhere near that book!”
“Az, chill out,” Cassian says, gripping his brother’s arm, “Let’s all calm down and think for a damn moment.”
Y/n slumps into her seat, glaring at Azriel as he paces on the other side of the table, the only thing keeping them from lunging at each other and tearing out each other’s throat. He glares right back, shadows whipping around him like they might grab her and strap her to the very seat she sits on to keep her from trying the spell again.
“Azriel’s right,” Feyre sighs, “That book was holding you hostage, and the book of breathings has done the same to me, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt again, or worse.”
“I’m not a child in need of your protection,” Y/n says, ice cold and guarded.
“No,” Amren says then, “But you are stranded and in need of our help. We will not risk ourselves because you want to foolishly run head first to your death.”
“Y/n, it’s in your best interest to take it slow, and let us help you,” Rhys chimes in, “I felt something when you opened that portal, something dark, powerful. There’s something out there, and whatever it is took an interest in out dear Y/n here.”
Y/n’s shoulder lock up, and Azriel’s glare turns to ice, “You already knew that didn’t you?”
“What was it?” Nesta leans on the table, steely eyes staring directly into Y/n’s soul.
“I don’t know,” she says, holding that piercing gaze, not backing down an inch, “I heard something, when I was trapped. Something cold and wicked.”
“What did it say?” Azriel demands, stepping closer to the table that separates them, multiple times in the last hour she’d been half tempted to leap across that table and fight it out with teeth, fists, and daggers, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes, and she can see the exact moment it crawls beneath his skin, he looks half tempted to strangle her, “It’s kind of hard to talk when you’re to busy shoving your tongue down my throat.”
“I’m sorry,” Mor says, looking at Az with wide eyes, “What?”
“Listen, princess.” Azriel leans on the table, ignoring Mor, ignoring the rest of his family who look between the two with varying degrees of alarm, “I don’t give a shit about this whole, I’m tougher than the world act, you’re scared and I know it, I can fucking see it, so go ahead and tell me what the fuck it said.”
She practically hisses at him, leaning forward in her seat, arm in casual reach of the blade at her thigh, “You don’t fucking know me, shadowsinger.”
“That’s enough,” Feyre snaps, “if you two can’t be civil together one of you can get out.”
Azriel looks ready to argue but one sharp glare from his high lady has him backing down. He turns on his heal, taking three long strides away from the table, putting distance between them like it would cool the raging flames in their eyes.
“What did you hear?” Feyre asks calmly, that air of dominance in her voice, High Lady, a queen in her own right.
Y/n holds her head high, meeting Feyre’s eyes, she may not be a queen but one day she would be, and she would bow to no one, “It told me to pay the price, gods killer’s kin.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Cassian asks, “Why can’t these things just say what they mean?”
“When my mother banished the gods to that hell realm to die,” Y/n says, “It would seem not all of them did. And whoever survived is demanding the price my mother was supposed to give.”
“And what price is that?” Azriel’s voice is deadly soft.
She could feel the anger radiating off of him, not necessarily at her, not necessarily not at her. He was angry that she’d nearly died, that she was willing to do it again if it meant going home. He was angry at her for being so damn stubborn that she wouldn’t listen, that she wouldn’t let him play protective fae male. She was angry to, so gods damned angry at the Wyrd for handing her this fate. For bringing her here in the first place, for putting her in their lives, in his, only to take her away again.
“My life.”
Azriel felt the words echo through him, bouncing around in his skull, each syllable cracking another piece of him until he was on the verge of shattering. My life, my life, my life, her life, her life, her life, her, her, her. Sharp stabbing pain in his chest like each word was a ash arrow through his sternum and directly into the heart beneath.
“No.”
“You don’t-“
“No,” he growls again, gaze matching Y/n’s, fire and ice pushing and pushing against each other to create a storm.
“We don’t know what this thing is,” Rhys interjects, “If it’s an actual god like thing, one of Quinlann’s Asteri, or something else entirely. Amren will search that dreadful book for answers about the gate. You two, will sit and calm the fuck down, and the rest of us will get back to work.”
The High Lord’s voice held an air of finality, no room to argue, even Y/n slumped in her seat, letting some of the cold fire go out. Amren is up and out the door as soon as Rhys stands, grumbling something beneath her breath about ungrateful little girls that has Y/n glaring between her shoulders like she was imagining that dagger strapped to her thigh buried between them.
“It will be alright, Y/n” Feyre lays a gentle hand on the female’s shoulder, “We will get you home, and if this god wants a fight, we will give it one.”
Azriel notes the shattered and broken look in Y/n’s eyes as she nods at his High Lady. He is so busy examining each of her motions that he doesn’t notice his family file out, doesn’t notice the concerned eyes and subtle glances between him and the female before him. She won’t look at him, he can tell she is actively trying not to meet his gaze. Fine, if she wanted to play the silent game, he’d play it and he’d win. They were going to have this out one way or another.
He sits across from her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes searching her face for any motion, but she sits still, that absolute fae stillness that looks like she isn’t even breathing. If it wasn’t for the steady beat of her heart in his ears he would think she wasn’t.
They sat there in silence, neither willing to be the one to break first. She stares at the wall beyond him, he stares at her face.
The tension in the room is suffocating, Azriel’s shadows are the only movement, the only sound, whispering in his ears, she’s upset, help her, comfort her. He wants to scream, to tell them to mind their own business.
He knows she’s upset, he knows and there’s a part of him that wants to take her into his arms and hold her, to tell her it’s alright and that he’d help her figure it out, but there’s an even bigger part of him that wants to keep yelling, to grab her and shake her till she stops and actually listens to him. He wishes he was like Rhys, that he could go into her mind and show her what she had looked like, trapped in that spell, he wishes he could show her the terror in his heart. How could she be so gods damned stubborn that she would even think to try it again, to put herself through that again, to put him through it again. Because if she did it, he would be right there beside her, and he would burn all over again to keep her safe.
Both of them were to stubborn to break first, they sat there for nearly an hour before Azriel stood, that far away look in his eyes that meant Rhys was talking to him in his head. He didn’t say anything to Y/n, only sending her a warning look before stalking out the doors and jumping from the balcony. She was half tempted to follow, to take her talons directly into his back, to get the fight she’d been itching to have with him. Instead she sat there, staring at that same blank space on the wall, mind spiraling down and down into that dark portal that ate up the Walking Dead book.
She wishes she still had it, that she could figure out how it all went wrong. She was so sure she’d copied those marks perfectly, spelling out the name of her home meticulously. Orynth, Terrasen, she’d learned how to write out the name in the Wyrd marks as a child, she knew it like the back of her hand. It should’ve worked, the gate should’ve worked.
When it had opened, she swore she could feel home on the other side, lands of pine and snow, the smell of the kings flame blooming across the mountains. It was right there, just beyond her reach, and that was when she’d felt it, when there had been something else, something dark that took her mind and whispered those words. Which god had survived, which one now demanded her death, she wasn’t sure. Quite frankly she didn’t want to know.
Whoever it was, they were angry, angry at her mother for what she had done, for the deaths of the other gods, and for that, they would take the one thing her mother cherished beyond anything else, Y/n. They would take her, using the power in her blood to make the lock that would bring them home, squeezing every last drop of life from her till there was nothing left.
Azriel knew he was going to walk into the River house and be bombarded, the question was, who would get to him first.
“Who needs a babysitter now?”
He glares at his brother, “Shut up, Cassian.”
“No, no, I’m going to enjoy this,” Cass grins at him, “I’m surprised you actually came down here, with way you two were staring each other down I was sure there would be some rough-“
Azriel sends him a warning snarl, “Watch it.”
Cassian only grins wider, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve never seen someone get under you skin like that. I’m surprised it took this long for, how’d did she put it? For your tongue to end up down her throat.”
Azriel was seconds away from sending his fist into his brothers face when Rhys opens his office door, “I’m surprised you’re not in a bed right now.”
Cassian’s roaring laughter fills the hall way and Azriel doesn’t hold back the fist he sends straight into Cassian’s stomach. His brother breathlessly laughs, even as he doubles over. Rhys’s eyes sparkle in amusement and Azriel sends him a look that dares him to say anything else.
“Why did you call me down?”
The High Lords humor vanishes just like that, it’s enough to even sober up Cassian, “Amren found something.”
No, no, no, no, “What is it?”
“The book of breathings was very talkative, it kept telling her that the storyteller should have heeded its warnings,” Rhys sighs, leaning against the door way, “With enough snarling Amren was able to wring a solid answer out of it.”
Azriel felt like throwing up as he asked, “What did it say?”
Rhys gives him a look, one that seems pleading, “That the Wyrd brought her here for a reason, as a gift to her, and it was angry at her for not accepting it.”
Cassian sighs, “What does that mean. What gift?”
There’s a moment where Azriel thinks Rhys won’t answer. Whatever it was, Az isn’t completely sure he wants to know. Whatever that wretched book had to say, it couldn’t be good.
“Fate brought Y/n here as a gift to her,” Rhys says again, taking a deep steadying breath, “Brought her here as a gift to her and her mate.”
Everything went quiet, the air, the best of his heart, quiet. No sound, no breaths, nothing. Just that word, mate, her mate.
“Az.”
He didn’t know who said it, Rhys, Cassian, his shadows, he didn’t know, he couldn’t hear beyond the echo of the word, mate, mate, mate, mate.
“Who?” He chokes on it, drowns in it, mate, mate, mate, “Who is it?”
He could feel it, like a tendril of shadow that reaches far far above the city, to the red cliffs, to the house carved into it’s side.
Rhys gives him a pitying look, “Brother, who do you thi-“
A soft tug, on that shadow, so faint it feels like it slips between his fingers.
“Who?” He pleads, breaking beneath it, mate, mate, mate, “Please.”
He collapses beneath the weight, knees digging into the soft plush rug beneath him. His brothers don’t move, they let him get crushed beneath the word.
“The book said it was a gift,” his brother whispers, “a gift to the storyteller and the shadowsinger.”
Mate, mate, mate, mate. That tendril of shadow firmly in his grasp, and on the other side, sits a storm of ice and fire. His mate, sits on the other side, high above him in the House of Wind, mate, mate, mate, mate, mate.
She is his mate.
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copperbadge · 2 months
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hi, i had a medium to big question. in your post about the adhd self-help book you mentioned people with adhd being conditioned to be nonconfrontational, but i've never once in my entire life connected the two? can you break down the connection for me so that i can once again (this week, even) have my understanding of my own condition blown wide open?
So, you are not the only person to ask about this, but that's on me for being unclear -- I wasn't trying to assert that kids with ADHD are automatically conditioned to be nonconfrontational, I was more trying to be like "Hey not everyone needs lessons in medical self-advocacy but a lot of nonconfrontational people do." And I think there is a higher population of people with neurodivergence who are deeply confrontation-averse, but I don't have like, numbers for that, it's just an assumption based on other knowledge.
It gets complicated; ADHD is a disease based heavily in acting impulsively against your best interests. But yeah I do think people with ADHD are often conditioned to avoid confrontation because of two main factors: rejection-sensitive dysphoria and executive dysfunction.
RSD, which I hate perhaps more than any other symptom or behavior associated with ADHD, automatically kicks our nervous system into high gear in social situations and encodes embarrassing moments in our memory with high-def clarity. Because RSD naturally causes a level of anxiety around socialization, it tends to make us nonconfrontational simply because a) we don't want to be yelled at, b) we don't want to embarrass ourselves by getting emotional about something that may not warrant it, and c) by the time we realize what's happening our body is already on high alert which means we are likely to go into fight-flight-freeze mode.
Me, I freeze, usually, but none of those three options are great for fast thinking during an argument. I used to lose arguments a lot simply because I couldn't think or react as fast as the neurotypical person I was fighting with, so I simply stopped having fights. Notably, I did not have this problem when fighting with my brother, who is also neurodivergent and has many of the same freeze reactions I do.
If people disagree with me, even when I know I'm right I also know I probably won't be able to vocalize it properly, so I back down. Usually it's trivial so it doesn't matter, and I've gotten strategic about how and when I argue about things that do matter; it's also a lot easier to do with strangers or professionals (like doctors) where I don't have to worry about long-term social repercussions. But yeah, our own nervous system tells us "hey maybe don't pick this fight" about every single fight and if we do pick that fight, it treats our opponent as a dangerous predator.
Executive dysfunction's interaction with nonconfrontation is something I have less problem with because while I do have poor executive function, I've spent a lot of time and energy training myself to cover the Important Stuff. I have mild ADHD so I'm capable of this; I'm not trying to say everyone with ADHD is, because lord knows it's exhausting for me and I've been doing it for roughly thirty years. But essentially, I cover where it counts: if someone needs me to do something I do it, I meet deadlines, I pay bills.
So with that disclaimer in place, a very common issue especially for children with undiagnosed ADHD is that they'll be told or asked to do something and simply be unable to begin or complete it, then when they're asked why they didn't do it they can't explain. Even if they try to explain that they simply couldn't, like they were incapable of doing it for reasons they don't understand, that usually doesn't hold water with a lot of parents and teachers.
"I couldn't bring myself to write this essay," is actually something I told myself a few times in college, but it's not something I'd bother trying to tell someone else, because if you think you're neurotypical that sounds very insane. So I'd lie and say I forgot, or I'd take the fail, or I'd simply drop out of the class. Crucially I would not fight with the authority figure who was questioning me about it, because I knew I wouldn't be able to explain myself, and I'd just end up getting in more trouble for longer.
Our culture is structured for neurotypicals, and it's not even structured for all neurotypicals. Behavior that deviates from Approved Neurotypical even when you think you are Approved Neurotypical is highly punishable. So if your options are passivity, even when passivity leads to pain, or confrontation, most people who aren't Approved Neurotypical will opt for passivity once they've had a taste of where confrontation leads. I know I do.
And the thing is, there's nothing actually wrong with that. It's a strategy calculated to minimize pain. Even when I'm firing on all cylinders on a fresh dose of Adderall, I still generally let fights go unless there will be actual real consequences, because it's just not worth it. But knowing we have ADHD and knowing we fall into this pattern, I think it is good to be aware that sometimes letting a fight go is really going to fuck you, and at that point even being bad at it is better than not engaging.
I'm pretty good at calculating those, but it's a lifelong process, knowing which hills to die on when you assume you will automatically die if you ever get above sea level.
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breannasfluff · 7 months
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Do you ever feel the urge to just delete something you've written? Because you suddenly feel embarrassed about it? Or because no one would care anyway?
Oh boy anon, do I have a meme for you
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I think everyone feels like this after posting. Even things that I think people will like, I still get nervous. Content out of my wheelhouse? New AUs? Oh yeah, I worry I’ll be the only one interested.
Things that help: friends! Writing friends, tumblr friends, discord, etc. I have some people I know I can rely on to cheer me on and even if something doesn’t do well, as long as one person likes it that’s what matters. Of course, the dream is that lots of people like it haha.
If you are missing this…see if you can build it? Comment on the works of authors you like. Chat in reblogs. Ask them questions about their writing process or tips. I did a bunch of that when I was learning and everyone had something different to share. I also met some really cool authors!
Usually, authors loooooove to talk about their work. I am no exception, haha. We put a lot of time, effort, and thought into stories and get very attached! It’s also why lack of response can be hard. Art is like that. We put ourselves out there and it’s daunting!
Improving writing skills is hard work, but does help. You can’t get better if you don’t write. A little while I ago I shared some lines from old things I wrote and they are SO cringy and bad. At the time I thought I was a literary genius.
If you worry about writing something original, try doing a fan work drabble of someone’s character if they are okay with it! Or, if this is LU, do a little scene with the boys. Make the reader care just as much as you do 💜
I hope it helps and good luck!!
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sneepseverus · 2 months
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tysm
can i recommend a snapesmut fic? i just want to see him at the yule ball finding a fem reader in a carriage and decides to help her out if yk what i mean? and they make it a regular thing but not in just a carriage in like his class and that behind a paintin in the forest idk im not sure, i would prefer if the reader was a student cause i like taboo stuff but if your not comfy can you make her his assistant? ty it would mean alot
I made the reader his assistant here! As I reread the request, I realized I also made a slight modification; I made Y/N take the lead once they were in the carriage (hope that's okay! It just felt more natural with what I had in mind 🙏)
Warnings:
NSFW (MINORS DNI)
Riding, p in v, oral (F and M receiving), fingering
Word count: ~2.3k
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"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" you asked teasingly, knowing fully well the answer was no. There was nothing more Severus loved than attending school events after working hours and having to act as a chaperone for developing adolescents with raging hormones. 
"Obviously," he replied, letting out a huff. 
His sarcasm never failed to make you smile. Most people found him intimidating, scary even, and you'd be lying if you said you never felt that way. However, after working with him and getting to know him these past few months, your feelings quickly became warmer, hotter even. You had sometimes spent time outside work, but it was nothing more than a quick cup of tea. 
But tonight you decided it would be different. "Now's my chance!" you thought. You put in more thought into your outfit than you usually would have for an event like this, hoping that seeing you in a different context would make him see you more than his assistant, as a person (an attractive one, at that.) You practiced many times in your head how to ask him to dance; you didn't want to come across as too imposing, but you also wanted to let him know you were interested in having something more than a professional relationship. 
However, any semblance of confidence swiftly left your body. While he did acknowledge you when you made your way next to him, his expressions suggested he didn't particularly care that you were all dolled up for this event. He was more focused on the drink in his hand and the students dancing in the center. 
Unsurprisingly, you could only focus on one thing. It was a rare sight to see him without his cloak; it almost felt a little too intimate. Fuck, all you wanted to do was rip apart all those buttons and see what was hiding underneath. And those fingers; why were they grasping a glass and not your waist? You were hoping mistletoe would appear so you'd have an excuse to kiss him and…have his mouth do other things to you.
"No, now is not the time to be thinking such things!" you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple to stop as you would have liked; you could already feel the sensitivity rising in your core. 
"Excuse me!" you babbled before dashing off somewhere secluded so you could clear your mind.
You found an empty carriage outside and entered. Despite the frigid weather, it was the closest private place you could have at the moment. You took deep breaths, trying to erase all the explicit imagery forming in your head so you could carry on with the night. 
All of a sudden, you heard a bang from outside, and the door quickly opened. "Y/L/N? What are you doing here?"
Shit. "Oh! Severus, I…" you began, clearing your throat, "I needed some fresh air, is all. I'll be back inside in a moment."
"Are you certain? You looked quite flustered before scurrying off."
"Yes," you replied. "I'm all right."
"Oh, I see. My apologies. You weren't…expecting anyone were you?" he followed up, embarrassed. "If so, then I'll leave you be." Despite the darkness of the night, you noticed his fists tightening around his wand.
"Expecting anyone? Please, if it were someone, it'd be you," you blurted out, not realizing what you just insinuated until after the fact.
"Oh? And why is that?" he asked curiously, raising his eyebrows.
You could feel your cheeks become hotter. "I just mean—Oh, for Merlin's sake, the truth is…I could hardly keep my eyes off you tonight. I so desperately wanted to ask you to dance, but I got scared and ran off. That’s why I’m here. There you have it," you confessed. 
You expected him to leave awkwardly, but instead, he entered the carriage before sitting across from you and closing the door. "Well, since we are being honest here, I must confess that I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."
"What?"
"Yes. Seeing as I supervise you, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so I tried my best to look away. But I must say, you look rather beautiful tonight. I mean, not that you don't normally do, but tonight especially, with your dress and jewelry and hair and…" he rambled. "But anyway, that’s expected; what isn’t is how you could feel similarly about me."
"Are you serious?!" you exclaimed. "How could I not? You're so captivating, the way you speak and carry yourself. How can they have us work together daily and not think I'd eventually become attracted to you? I'm surprised someone as intelligent as you can't see just how sexy you are."
"Sex…y?” he repeated. "Are you really certain you’re feeling okay? I think your lack of proper outerwear has somehow halted your ability to think correctly."
"Shut up! It’s true!” you maintained. "Your voice, your mind, your hands, all of you is so sexy."
"Well, since 'professionalism' clearly no longer exists in this space…I can easily say the same about you."
You weren’t sure if you were imagining his last sentence, but there was no time to think. "Fuck, just kiss me already," you ordered.
In just a second, your arms were wrapped tightly around each other as your lips crashed. Your fingers found their way into his hair, while his were exploring your back, slowly sliding down until they reached your hips.
Inside the limited space, you settled on his lap, pressing your core against his. His eyes lowered from your face to your cleavage placed right in front of him. As you felt his hardness developing underneath his pants, you began slowly grinding against it, eliciting involuntary moans from him. "Just tell me if you want to stop at any point," you breathed, but his expressions and hands gripping your lower back were clear indications of his willingness to continue.
You could feel your wetness building, and your need to feel him inside you was only getting stronger. "I want to ride you," you blurted out. You slid off him to pull down your soaked underwear, dangling it in front of him before throwing it to the side.
He paused, taking his time to process what was happening right before him. But not too long after, his fingers slid down to his waistband, slowly unbuckling his belt. He was embarrassed but couldn't leave you being the only one pantless.
As you lifted your dress up, his own bottoms came off, revealing his aching cock. "Fuck," he let out at the sight of you sliding yourself down on him with such ease.
With him holding you to keep you balanced, you began to bounce slowly up and down, letting out a moan each time. You gripped his shoulders, staring lustfully into his eyes before he dropped his head back.
"You fill me up so well," you uttered. With whatever remaining energy you had, you placed messy kisses all over his face. "Just like I've been dreaming this whole time.” 
Although he wasn't able to let out a single word, the soft moans leaving his parting lips were enough to tell you how he felt.
You couldn't keep it together any longer. As your bounces sped up, your orgasm took over while his hot cum simultaneously spilled deeply inside you. "Severus! Ah!" you screamed. When you were certain your body could not produce any more pulses, you slid off him, trying to regain your energy.
You helped each other get your bottoms back on, but there was no way you could re-enter the room. Even if you played it cool, nobody would be able to ignore the messy hair and lipstick marks all over his cheeks.
You exited the cramped carriage, gathering your composure.
"I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis," he finally said, smirking.
"We just fucked in a carriage; I sure hope we would be."
"You're right...Y/N."
As you made your way back to the castle, trying to find an entrance where no one else would be, you linked your arms around his. "I hope we can make this more of a regular occurrence.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The next few weeks were even more exciting and scandalous than the night of the ball.
Nobody questioned you when you told your colleagues and superiors you had work to do with Severus in his office. Instead of marking papers, you were busy being bent over next to his desk while his cock filled you up, balls slapping against your skin with each pump. He had one hand gripping your hip while the other was cupping your beautiful ass. You made it clear you’d only let him fuck you if he overcame his fear of being too loud. Though his office was secluded from the rest of the castle, the thought of someone hearing him moan and groan from behind the thick walls made you come even harder. 
You thought he wouldn’t be able to keep up with your horniness, but you were soon proven wrong. One day after class ended, when Severus was certain all the students were gone, he locked the door and looked toward you cunningly. "If you’d let me, I’d like to taste that sweet pussy of yours," he confessed. 
Without hesitation, you sat on a clean table, spreading your legs widely for him to enjoy. 
His hands gripped your thighs before his fingers trailed up until they almost reached your center again, intentionally avoiding your sensitive bud. 
"Please, just eat me already," you begged.
"Shhh. Patience, my dear."
Once he was content with the number of moans escaping your mouth, he slid your panties down and placed his fingers on your mound, spreading your lips so he could get a good look at your clit. He pressed his nose against it and inhaled deeply, savoring your natural scent.
Finally, he let the tip of his tongue press against you. He closed his eyes and let it slide up and down through your slit. Once he realized how wet you were, he slipped a finger inside you and let his tongue concentrate on your clit. 
You took off your top and bra before falling back against the table and fondling your boobs. Somehow he maintained a perfect rhythm, giving equal attention to your G-spot and clit.
Knowing how much you loved the sound of his voice, he intentionally let out a series of vibrating moans against you.
"Fuck, Severus, I'm about to come!" you yelled.
You thought he’d take this as a sign to continue his pace, but he pulled away instead. "That’s 'Sir,' I'm about to come."
"Sir, please let me come! Please, I need it!"
Satisfied, he continued working toward your orgasm. He was practically devouring you with the way his tongue was lapping your whole pussy. With each moan from you, he sped up his pace, not leaving until he was certain you were completely finished. 
As you tried to catch your breath, he helped you sit back up, smirking at you. Seeing how wiped out you were, he was not expecting the next few words from you.
"Now, it’s your turn!"
"W-what?"
You hopped off and held his hand, leading him to the nearest open seat. You spread his legs apart before palming his erection trapped behind the confines of his trousers. Your fingers gripped his waistband, and you proceeded to unbuckle his belt. 
He raised his eyebrows as he let you pull his bottoms off. When his leaking cock sprang out, you beamed with joy and licked your lips at the sight.
He let out a low groan as soon as your fingers wrapped around his cock and dragged up and down the entire length. You let out a puff of hot air on his tip, teasing him just like he did earlier with you.
"Shit," he whispered, clearly willing and ready. 
With your free hand now cupping his balls, you let your tongue swirl over his tip and lick up and down his shaft, exploring every inch of his thickness. 
"Mmmh," you let out, pulling away for a second to compliment how he tasted.
He placed his fingers on the back of your head to balance himself and lead you to the right spots. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up toward you, forcing you to go down deeper.
Of course, he couldn’t last for as long as you did. Thick ropes of cum shot into your mouth as he let out a booming "FUCK!" His body was shaking uncontrollably until his climax finally came to a pause. 
With sweat starting to drip down his head, he kept his eyes closed, too tired to stand back up. You wiped your mouth and helped get his lower half covered once again.
When his brain started to clear again, he slowly got out of his seat and regained control of himself. "I believe it’s time for lunch," he stated nonchalantly.
But as you made your way to the Great Hall, you pulled him aside and trapped him against the wall before placing your lips on his. You didn’t care if anyone saw; if anything, you wanted a professor to catch you in the act. "Mmmh, Severus," you let out between kisses. 
He was too flustered to know where to place his hands, but they eventually settled on your lower back. 
When you finally pulled away, he stared at you, shocked. "My goodness, Y/N. I thought I could keep up with your energy, but I’m starting to have second thoughts."
"Trust me, there will be more where that came from. You'll build your stamina up in no time. I'll see you tonight…sir," you replied before winking at him, leaving what would occur later that day to his imagination.
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winterr77 · 7 months
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ੈ✩ Habits for your academic life
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Below are some habits and rules to keep in mind throughout your studies and some tips that will elevate your learning experiences.
☆ Setting boundaries and learning to say no
It is always easy to say yes and join every social event that one is invited to, however its crucial to consider your own personal life and the consequences of your decisions. Hanging out with friends is a needed event as a social creature, however it's better to exercise caution and know when to say "no" to focus on your own goals and dreams. Don't get pulled into the pace of others and focus on finding a routine and schedule that works for your own benefit.
☆ Being comfortable with your own company
You will find in uni that there are lots of times that you will spend alone, and maybe feel a little anxious that you're the only person who isn't constantly in the company of someone everyday like you maybe were in high school. However, realise that even the time to yourself is a time of value, and treasure those moments to focus and work on your own goals. It is easier to get lost and lose sight of your ambitions when with others who don't have the same aspirations as yourself. Use your own time to sit down and work out what you want to achieve and quietly put in the effort to win.
☆ Never being scared to ask questions
It can be quite daunting to ask questions in lectures, so I prefer to ask my questions during times that aren't forced into a short time interval, such as tutorials, office hours, and other forms of learning support that your university/college provides. This way there is no rush to answer my questions and take my time in working through concepts and ideas. Ask questions based on your own conclusions, questions that challenge current rules and perspectives. Think deeper into your lessons and seek to make use of every bit of information.
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☆ Being curious
This is very much related to the point above, that being that personal interest really aids with the brains memory retention. The more things you approach with an enthusiastic attitude, the easier it is for your brain to remember and categorise. Having curiosity, even if it is forced, gives a great advantage where you seek to interconnect the information you learn with other data, and grow more networks of neurons that allows your brain to stay healthy and active.
☆ Initiating contact
Struggling with a theory or assignment? Great, it shows that you are actively trying to understand a concept and working your brain muscles. Now the best way to comprehend or complete what you are struggling with is to access support materials. Still difficult? Reach out. Your teachers, professors, tutors are all there for your benefit. Use them intelligently and squeeze every drop of assistance and support from them while they are still available to you.
☆Watching educational content to aid your studies
You can never lose from learning a bit more every day. However make sure to fact check and find your information from trusted and quality sources. In general, it's always a win to be educated in various topics from health, sciences, arts, humanities and more to gain a better understanding of ourselves, our world, and humanity.
For example, I watched a ted talk today, and here is my conclusions from my notes:
ੈ✩TedX: Why Reading Matters by Rita Carter
Summary:
☆Your brain needs a workout as much as your body. And reading fiction seems to be one of the best workouts you can get. (I recommend quality fiction, with that being classic literature because it genuinely exercises your mind with its intricate language techniques and diverse vocabulary)
☆Not only is it good for you, but it's also good for society as a whole because the brain is like a muscle: the more you force yourself through books to take other people's perspectives, to sympathise, to empathise with other people, the more empathetic a society we will have.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚
good luck lovelies
~winter
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
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