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#the way I started this way before I even knew there would be a book
a-b-riddle · 21 hours
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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dreamescapeswriting · 13 hours
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Vanishing Act ~ HHJ
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⤜WORD COUNT: 1.7K
⤜GENRE: Established relationship, mafia romance, mafia boyfriend! NON IDOL, Arguing couple, fighting, making up, cry baby reader, angst with a fluffy ending
⤜PAIRING: Hyunjin!Mafia x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
A/N: I lost the original screenshot! But I remembered cry baby reader so I hope this is okay! 
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Hyunjin paced back and forth in the dimly lit office he'd spent most of the day in, his mind plagued with worry. You had vanished without a trace earlier in the day. You hadn't answered his calls or messages, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that gnawed at him. In their world, disappearing like that wasn't just unusual; it was dangerous. His anxiety only grew in his chest the more he thought about what could have happened to you.
"Did you find her?" He growled out at your personal guard who had managed to lose you this morning. He'd hired Mark because he was supposed to be the best of the best, an ex-military man who was also a private investigator and you'd managed to get out of his sights.
"No," The man gulped, looking around at the office and back at Hyunjin who looked as though he was about ready to throw up at the thought of something happening to you. Being who he was in this world meant anyone close to him had a giant target on their back and you were the closest person to him in the whole world. 
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As the hours stretched on, Hyunjin's anxiety mounted higher and higher as he thought about everything. He imagined all sorts of scenarios - rival gangs, undercover cops, or some personal vendetta targeting you. He couldn't afford to lose you. You were his anchor, his solace in the tumultuous world they inhabited, you were everything to him and the thought of losing you was tearing him up inside.
Finally, as the evening descended into darkness, Hyunjin made his way home ready to find someone else to try and find you but when he walked through the door he couldn't believe his eyes.
You were sitting calmly on the couch, engrossed in a book, and his anger flared. No one had been able to find you and you'd just been sat there all day?
"Where the hell have you been?" he barked, his voice echoing off the walls. You jumped, dropping your book onto your lap and staring up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion spread across your face.
"Hyunjin, I was just out for a walk. I needed some time alone." You breathed out, you assumed he was referring to you being gone most of the day. You just needed some time away from everything to relax and clear your mind. 
Something you used to do a lot before the two of you had moved in together, something you didn't think was that big a deal, especially since you'd stuck to the gardens of his mansion and just spent most of the days in there. The place he had once told you was the safest place in the country. 
"Alone?" Hyunjin's voice rose, his frustration bubbling over as he stared at you, how could you not be taking this as seriously as he was? Did you find this all funny? 
"You think you can just disappear like that? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Do you know many enemies we have out there that would love to get their hands on you!?" His voice bounced off the walls and you stood up, wanting to get away from his wrath since you knew he would go on a tangent for a while.
"Hyunjin-" He cut you off by shaking his head at you and scoffing loudly,
"Don't Hyunjin me! You know how worried I get when you disappear on me without a word!" He yelled, his anger finally getting the better of him as he lashed out at you, knowing deep down that it was wrong for him to do so. 
"What if someone had gotten to you? Huh? Kidnapped you?!" You stared down at the floor, feeling the tears starting to rush into your eyes as you did your best to stop it from happening. 
You were so insecure whenever it came to crying in front of anybody but especially someone that you were getting into an argument with. You hated that whenever someone was yelling at you your body's response was to cry, it was the same thing that happened whenever you were angry the tears would just stream down your cheeks. Hyunjin's anger surged as he saw tears rolling down your face, your shoulders trembling with silent sobs but instead of softening, his words only turned harsher, cutting through you like a knife.
"Stop crying!" He barks at you, his voice laced with venom and impatience.
"Is that all you know how to do? Acting like a damn crybaby whenever someone yells at you?!" You flinched at his words, your head shooting up and finding his eyes on you as you stared back at him. your tears flowing more freely now, your silent sobs turning into choked gasps as he turned your insecurity back on you. Something you'd never thought Hyunjin, of all people, would do to you.
You struggled to compose yourself, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands, but the tears refused to stop flowing. Hyunjin's heart clenched at the sight, a pang of guilt piercing through his anger and allowing him to see how much he had hurt you.
He knew just how insecure you were about it, how you saw it as a sign of weakness but his frustration had gotten the better of him and now he'd only added to your pain,
"Yn, I..." He began, his voice faltering as he reached out to you, but you recoiled, your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. 
"Don't," You whispered, your voice barely coming out, you couldn't believe that he would do this to you.
"Just...Don't," You choked out, walking away from him as he called for you to go back to him but you couldn't. Right now you didn't want to be near him or face him after what he had said to you. 
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After an hour or so Hyunjin decided to venture up to your shared bedroom, his anger had completely vanished the second he realised how hurt you were but he'd wanted to give you some time alone before he came up to your room. Entering the room, he found you curled up on your bed, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 
The sight tore at his soul, a painful reminder that he had been the one to cause all of this. 
"yn," He whispered as he approached you cautiously, his footsteps hesitant as he sat down beside you.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," His voice was barely audible over the sound of your tears. You flinched at his words but you didn't push him away. Instead, you turned over to face him, your eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.
"You always say that." You murmur, "But it doesn't change anything." Hyunjin felt a stab in his chest, he knew he messed up and he knew that mere apologies wouldn't be enough to mend the damage he had created. He reached out to you, his hand shaking as he wiped away tears from your cheek. 
"I know," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "But please, Yn, give me a chance to make it up to you. I'll do anything, I swear," He begged. He wasn't below begging you, he would do anything for you, take a bullet, run in front of a car, anything for you.
"What could you even do to make this up to me?" You mumbled, your voice tinged with scepticism and he moved to sit beside you on the bed, looking at you as he sighed softly. 
"I had a whole evening planned you know, I was going to take you out to dinner...wine and dine you," He smiled weakly as you stared at him,
"When you weren't here I freaked out, I got scared that something had happened to you and I let my anger get the better of me," He admits as he looks down at your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing softly. 
"You disappeared all day without a word...I was worried." He admits to you, not trying to get into another argument but just wanting you to understand his side of all of this.
"The thought of anything happening to you kills me inside." He whispered and you stared at him,
"I wasn't in any danger, I was in the gardens most of the day...I just took some time alone," Your voice had a tinge of frustration but you cuddled into your boyfriend's arms. 
"You can't just wander off without a word, in this world, I need to know where you are." He pleaded with you, his eyes finding yours as you bite down on your lip and nod at him. 
"I worry because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you." He whispers as you kiss his cheek softly, 
"I love you too," You whisper back to him as his eyes start to fill with tears.
"I...I just can't lose you, Yn. Not now, not ever," He whispers as tears start to fall down his cheeks, your arms wrapping around him and cuddling closer to him. Your chest hitting something hard in his pocket,
"What-" Your laugh cut you off as you felt the box inside of his pocket.
"Oh," He groans pulling the box out from his jacket pocket and holding out the small velvet box. It was something he'd been planning to give to you at dinner that night before all of this had happened.
Slowly he opened the box and revealed a delicate diamond necklace. 
"I got this for you, I wanted to give it to you tonight, but I messed everything up," He laughed softly as you traced your fingers over the intricate design. 
"Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me," He begged, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears before you nodded slowly, a small smile playing on your lips.
"Okay," You whispered, kissing him softly as he carefully put the necklace around your neck and made sure it was perfectly sitting on your skin.
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muchlovekatia · 2 days
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✧ ˚ · . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 —
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. . theodore nott x
reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
SYNOPSIS : maybe theodore nott isn't the best boyfriend. but he is rather observant, isn't he?
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⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔹
warnings! :
none :)
theodore nott and acknowledging the little things <3
.ೃ࿐ 🎞️
〰️
"i'm thinkin' about reading this new book," you spoke, your hands absentmindedly running through theo's ruffled hair in the way that you knew he loved. "mia told me it was good. my friend, remember?"
you really didn't want to bother him much whenever he seemed on the brink of sleep, but theo always insisted that he loved it whenever you talked while he was tired. he said it helped him fall asleep, which you couldn't deprive him of, so, late at night, propped up against your headboard with his head on your torso and his arms wrapped around your middle, you rattled off meaningless details about your day, from how you were a moment late to lunch, to that there was an ache in your left leg. sometimes, he responded, other times, he didn't, and you never pushed him to, either.
"the one who keeps holding you in class?" he muttered, and you huffed a laugh. since you'd developed a friendship with mia, you fell victim to talking a lot in class and getting held behind for extra work. theo loved complaining about it, too.
"yea." a soft smile tugged at your lips. "it's called 'the book thief'. from what i've heard, it sounds pretty good."
much to your surprise, theo seemed to wake himself up, drawing his head from your torso and instead, lightly resting his chin there. you peered down at him, a question in your eyes, but he spoke before you could.
"what's it about?" he asked, his eyes darkened in the dull light of the lamp on your bedside table. you breathed a laugh, skepticism creeping across your face.
"since when have you ever shown interest in what i read?" you inquired in return. often, you told your boyfriend about the books you were reading, and though he avidly listened, he never really asked about it much. below you, theo pursed his lips, face scrunching in what you couldn't guess the meaning of.
"since mia started giving you recommendations," came his reply after a bit of thinking. "why are you asking anyways? are you implying that i'm dumb 'cause i don't read a lot?" he sent you a sarcastically skeptical face, to which your mouth fell open to in mock surprise.
"i would never," you scoffed as if he was crazy for even thinking it. he kept that same look on his face for what felt like eternities until your hands reached out to tug the corners of his mouth into a smile. though he let you, each time you retracted your fingers, his mouth would drop back into that frown. "so difficult," you muttered with a laugh. theo tilted his head to the side.
"so?"
giving up, you dropped your hands at your sides and looked away, thinking back on your earlier interaction with your classmate and what she had said about the book. "i'm pretty sure it's about this german girl... something about her moving to a foster home 'cause her mom's on the run. takes place during the holocaust." your eyes strayed back to his own, which were intently assessing your face. you grinned. "why do you care, seriously?"
theo propped himself on his elbows, leaning up to kiss your lips. "can't care 'bout my girlfriend's life anymore, huh?" you giggled when he peppered your face with tender pecks, his lips soft and warm on your skin.
"answer the question, teddy." you poked his side, turning your head to the left so he could no longer kiss you. he sighed through his nose, leaning back again and shrugging as best as he could in his position.
"i dunno. i wanna talk to you," he uttered, and your laughter died, your smile blooming even further. you couldn't help but love him even more in those moments, your heart so full you felt it might explode inside your chest. "be part of your life more."
"you already are," you reassured, tilting your head to the side and reaching a hand out to run your fingers through his hair once more. he hummed his approval, resting his head on your torso the way he had before you had interrupted his sleepiness.
"okay. continue, please," theo stated against your clothed skin, hands gripping the hem of your shirt. you smiled.
"alright."
two weeks later.
〰️
the first thing you felt when you woke up was a chaste kiss against the skin of your forehead, shifting, and cold air. you struggled to open your eyes, still weak under the weight of sleep. theo's voice pulled you out a bit.
"gotta get to class, mi amore. i'll be back soon," he said. you hummed a small acknowledgment, not bothering to say anything more before you shifted below the sheets and faintly heard the door click open and closed.
an hour later, and you were sitting up against the headboard, yawning and stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the clock on your bedside table told you it was 8:03 am. still too early, but breakfast was calling to your empty stomach. you looked to the side, upset that theo was gone and expecting the sheets to be completely empty. they weren't.
a few inches from your thigh, was a thin, rectangular box. a present. it was wrapped up in a sort of newspaper design, tied with a red ribbon. calling to be opened. tentatively, you twisted your body, tucked your legs underneath you, and picked up the gift. it was cold and stark in your hands. not wanting to ruin the intricate paper design, you carefully unwrapped it, mind whirling to a bunch of different thoughts. today wasn't anything special. you couldn't think of a reason theo would gift you something, but then again, he did love buying you things without you even asking. was it even from theo?
your breath caught in your throat once it was all opened, a smile blooming on your lips. a copy of the book thief. it was— he even went with the color scheme to simply wrap it up. faded newspaper and red. you huffed a laugh, opening it up, and what was on the inside surprised you even more.
'turns out mia has good book taste.' he had read it? there was 525 pages in the book, and he read all of it. for you. flipping open the pages, what you found baffled you just further. he had left notes, as well, little annotations across the pages, with words like 'this made me think of you', or, 'we should do this together'.
mia had good taste, indeed.
.
doing this instead of studying 💪💪
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cry4tzu · 2 days
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Focus on me, not the damn exam
Minatozaki sana x female reader
synopsis-i wanted her attention, and i got it .
Warning-smut!!, mention of mommy, and slut
A/N- first attempt at smut so it a little short so bare with me.
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The air was heavy with the scent of dust and old books as Sana hunched over her desk in her dorm , her hair falling over her face as she pored over notes and textbooks. Her heart raced and her palms sweat, but not from nervousness; it was excitement, anticipation. She was inches away from triumph, from proving herself to the world. No, not the world, just her professor. Just this stupid, stupid exam.
She glanced at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Just a few more hours and she'd be free to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Or so she thought. There was a small shape, barely noticeable at first of someone right beside her.When she focused her attention on it, she realized it was her girlfriend, Y/N, trying to get her attention. But she couldn't. Not now. She had to focus.
"Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Babe, I need you to pay attention to me."
Sana sighed, already for the 50th time . "I can't, Y/N," she murmured, her voice strained. "I have an exam tomorrow, I need to study."
“You have been studying for the past hours my love, you should take a break” y/n said whining to the fact that her girlfriend attention was on something else other than her.
“Well, this exam is very important so if you can let me study for two more hours then i promise you will get my attention baby ” she said going back to focus her attention on the papers she need to read over.
With a sigh of defeat, y/n gave up on trying to get Sana's attention the conventional way. She knelt down on the floor, slipped her long, slender legs underneath Sana's desk, and before Sana even had time to register what was happening, she felt y/n's lips wrap around her aching clit, her tongue darting out to tease and caress her swollen nub. Sana's eyes widened in surprise and she let out a small gasp, the sound muffled by the pages of her notes.
She slipped a finger inside, making Sana gasp, and began to move. "You're so wet," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “You like this don’t you mommy.” Sana let out a whimper in response.
As Y/N continued to work her magic, Sana could feel her mind start to wander, her focus slipping away from the books and notes spread out before her. She tried to concentrate on the exam, on the questions she needed to know, but all she could think about was how good it felt to have Y/N's body pressed against hers, her fingers moving inside her. She couldn't help but wonder if she was making the right choice, if she should really be studying right now. But it was too late for second-guessing. All she could do was give in to the pleasure, and hope that she would remember enough to get her through the exam.
Her breath hitched as Y/N's fingers found her clit, circling it expertly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back, her hips pushing against Y/N's hand. "Just like that baby ." She could feel herself getting closer, the need building inside her, and she knew she was going to cum.
“You're such a fucking slut for your baby, you know that right?" Y/N whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Just let go, Sana. Let me take care of you." she increased the pressure of her tongue and her fingers, driving Sana closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck,fuck ,fuck I’m gonna cum please don’t stop”sana said as her eyes rolled back in her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt herself starting to lose control. the way her lover fingers was deep inside pushing her right to the edge. She needed more. She reached out, tangling her fingers in Y/N's hair, urging her on, begging for more.
As the pleasure built inside her, Sana could feel her muscles tensing, her orgasm growing closer and closer. And then, with a cry of release, she came, her body shuddering and trembling beneath Y/N's expert touch. "Fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. "Y/N... I can't... I can't take it..."
But Y/N didn't get up, not yet. She continued to suck on Sana's clit, her fingers still thrusting inside her, relentless in their pursuit of pleasure. And as Sana began to catch her breath, she realized that she was still sitting at her desk, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and on display for her girlfriend. A thrill ran through her as she imagined what this must look like, and she let out a moan of approval, urging Y/N to keep going.
"That's it, mommy. You look so pretty when you’re desperate for me ," Y/N murmured, her voice low and husky. "Just let me have you." She reached up, untying Sana's hair from its messy bun and letting it fall around them in a curtain of black. She used it to cover her hands, using the strands to hide her fingers from view as she continued to work her magic.
Sana arched her back, her hips bucking forward as she felt herself growing wetter and needier under Y/N's expert touch. She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with effort as she tried to remain still, but the sensations were simply too intense. "I'm gonna cum again," she gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Oh God, Y/N..."
Y/N smiled against her, her tongue darting out to tease and flick at the sensitive bud of her clit. "That's it," she whispered, her voice a low growl. "Let go, Sana. Give it all to me." And with that, Sana was overcome, her body shuddering with another powerful orgasm as she cried out in ecstasy.
As Sana's tremors subsided, Y/N pulled away, gazing up at her with a satisfied smile. She licked her lips, tasting their combined juices, and then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Sana's swollen lips. "I'm so proud of you, mommy," she whispered. "You did amazing."
Sana blushed, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. "Th-thank you," she stammered, her breath coming in short gasps. She looked down at her desk, still covered in books and notes, feeling a pang of guilt. "I-I really should study..."
Y/N laughed softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Sana's inner thigh. "Don't worry about that for now," she said, her voice soothing. "You've earned a break." She leaned in, pressing their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss. "Why don't we take a little nap together? It’s getting late. " she suggested, her hand sliding up under Sana's shirt, touching her soft skin.
Sana nodded, feeling herself grow warm at the touch. They got up from the desk, and Y/N helped Sana lie down on the bed. She pulled the blankets up over them, tucking Sana in like a child. As they snuggled close together, their hearts racing and their breaths intermingling, Sana couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered in this moment, as if they were the only two people in existence.
"I love you, Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their hearts pounding. "You're the only one for me."
Sana smiled, nestling deeper into Y/N's embrace. "I love you too," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy as sleep began to creep up on her. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so safe, so cherished. The warmth of Y/N's body against hers was addicting, and as her eyelids grew heavier, she allowed herself to drift off, lost in the comfort of their embrace.
138 notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 2 hours
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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Could you write “Close your eyes so it’ll hurt less. for Satoru Gojoı with non-sorcerer reader.
It can be nsfw or punishment scenario <3
thanks in advance!
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, overprotective behavior, manipulation, clinginess, isolation, abduction, paranoia, Satoru breaks s/o's wrist
Words: 3.1 k
Prompt 192
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'Beauty is deceiving. It hides who the true monster is.'
You couldn't quite recall when and where you had stumbled upon this phrase, if it had been spoken by someone or if you had read it in a book. Most likely because you had never given this analysis much thought when you had received it for the first time. In hindsight, you should have probably given those two sentences much more thought. Perhaps, but only perhaps, then you wouldn't have fallen so easily prey to a man whose powers and appearance resembled old folklore of ancient and powerful gods.
Satoru indeed, as you had learned the longer you had been with him, thought of himself as someone blessed and special. If anyone else would have said those words to you, you would have thought of them as delusional. Yet when Gojo Satoru said those words, they were no mere gloating fantasies. Instead those words were reality, a reality you had been exposed to ever since you had gotten involved with him.
A reality that frightened you and one that you still couldn't comprehend. Worst of all seemed to be that Satoru refused to expose his world to you. You had only pieces of the puzzle, an unfinished picture of the whole situation that left you with a strange mixture of fear and agitation.
"Even if I were to tell you, you wouldn't be able to do anything. I would only scare you unnecessarily."
Partially he had spoken the truth and you knew that. You wouldn't be able to do anything against whatever it was that his world held in store for you. Yet Satoru was mislead in his assumption that keeping the truth from you would spare you from unnecessary stress. It only amplified it as the fear of not knowing had become a familiar chain that restricted your mind. You had started viewing your surroundings with more caution and wariness, unaware what it was you had to look out for but on edge nevertheless. A feeling of constant alert had overcome you whenever you were conscious, one that had cost you.
No longer felt you able to relax or take joy in the simple things. What you didn't know was constantly on your mind, the nagging fear a festering tumor that spread inside your mind the more time you were forced to spend with him.
His constant presence did not do anything to soothe your growing anxiousness. On the contrary, it fueled those feelings inside of your chest only more. It was unclear to you whether he was oblivious to this fact or if he chose to ignore it and if you had to be truthful, you did not know which was worse.
There was only one thing he often felt the urgent need to remind you of.
That he was the good guy.
---
Your hold on the book tightened, your heart clenching in rapidly growing frustration as you tried your best to blend Satoru's presence out of your mind and focus.
"Don't ignore me, (y/n)!" He whined and his voice, one you used to perceive as a pleasant and delightful sound, made you cringe the same way the sound of nails against a chalkboard would have done. It was borderline agonising and you just wanted it to stop. Your jaw clenched, your head pounding as the anger piled on yet you tried to push everything down as you didn't want to lose your composure and, accompanying your composure, the grasp of control over your own emotions.
When you felt soft lips traveling down from your temple to your neck, you shut the book loudly before you stood abruptly up. Your fists were balled to fists as the pounding in your head seemed to intensify. You felt the urge to scream, to cry or to let your feelings vent out in any other way but you knew that you couldn't do that in front of him. Your feet stomped away from the scene in an attempt to get away from him. When you noticed that he stood up and followed you, you had to bite your tongue in your best attempt to not yell at him.
"Am I not even allowed to go to the bathroom alone?" You growled at him before locking the door to the only room where you could have at least a few minutes for yourself. You scowled at the hurt pout he gave you before his face disappeared from your sight. In the very same moment you locked the door, separating you from Satoru, it felt like someone had unlocked your ability to breathe properly again. The air tasted fresher and your chest felt lighter now that you were away from his smothering presence.
You drew water from the tap and splashed the cold liquid against your face in an attempt to soothe the burning pounding that had tormented you for the entire day already. You took those moments to let the silence and appreciated loneliness sink in, your face still buried in your head as you made no attempt to remove it from them.
As much as you would have wanted to stay like this for a while longer, you knew that you only had so much time before Satoru would grow impatient. You'd rather destroy this moment of peace due to your own will rather than to be thrown out of this tranquility by his own actions.
You turned the tap off and dried your face with the towel before you unlocked the door and turned the knob, expecting to hear his voice immediately calling for you or to even see him standing there.
Instead you heard his hushed voice from the living room and although you couldn't clearly hear all of his words, it sounded like he was talking to someone. For a split second you debated whether or not to use this chance to return to the bathroom or go somewhere else. On the other hand you knew too well that he would demand for you as soon as he was finished with this conversation so instead you opted to just head back to the living room as well.
When you peaked inside through the opened door, you could see that he was having a phone call with someone. Brilliant blue eyes darted up as soon as they saw you and a smile graced his lips for a few moments. You could clearly hear how his voice turned to a mere murmur as he suddenly turned his back on you and you knew instantly that the call must have been related to his job which is why he didn't want you to hear what he was hearing. You felt your curiosity urging you to step closer, so close that you would understand everything no matter how silent he might try to talk.
From previous experiences you knew that if you were to try that though, he would end the call instantly and merely tell the other person on the line to text him all the information before hanging up. So you just stood there and waited, feeling the frustration bubble up inside of you again.
As soon as he had ended the call, he turned around to you. A silly pout was on his face as he walked over to you before a dramatic sigh escaped him.
"Seems like I have to head out for a while. Something just came up."
Obviously he was clearly unhappy, you on the other mind felt like your soul was rejuvenating with the mere thought of having a few hours to yourself. Like everything else though, you also were smart enough to not gloat about those news so you gave him a curtly nod as your only response.
Large hands cradled your face as blue eyes looked at you.
"I'll be back as soon as possible. Just wait for me in the meantime, 'kay?"
You didn't return the kiss when you felt warm lips meeting your own but you also knew that with his grip on your face, you couldn't pull away so you just endured the feeling as your body visibly tensed up. Only when you pulled away did you dare to unclench your jaw again, your lips slightly parted as you looked into those otherwordly eyes.
"Maybe I'll buy you something nice if I find something." He continued to speak as he pressed quick kisses against your face as if quickly tanking some affection before he had to leave.
"Would you like something specific."
You merely shook your head.
"Just surprise me."
Really, you couldn't have cared less.
---
Satoru had returned far too quickly for your own taste. On the other hand he might as well have been gone for weeks and you would still bemourn his absence as too short.
With him he had brought bags full with clothes he had bought for you, in high moods as he had asked you to wear some of them so he could see if they would look as good on you as he had hoped them to be when he had wasted his money on them.
In an attempt to delay this event and prevent him from getting handsy, you had insisted on cutting off all the price tags first as you had assured him that you would like to keep everything that he had brought.
So now here you were, searching for the price tags on every piece of clothing before cutting it off with scissors. It was a lot of work but less because it took much physical exertion and more because of the sheer amount the white-haired man had bought.
Really, you could have enjoyed this task though as it was rather nice to do something.
So why couldn't he have just sat back and remained silent instead of touching you and talking to you? You just wanted some time for yourself.
You knew that he was trying to get you to talk to him by annoying you with questions and touches as he simply longed to hear your voice and to force you to interact with him. This was precisely what you didn't want and so you had to silently chant a mandra to calm your nerves as you hung up all the clothes in the wardrobe. You were surprised that you even had any space left considering that you had so many clothes already.
It was tedious to ignore him but you were normally somehow able to pull through with it. However, on this evening Satoru seemed to have finally enough of your dismissive attitude which was why he exactly spoke something that he knew would get your attention.
"I met your friends whilst I was shopping."
You froze, unable to control your reaction as you heard his words. A strange flood of emotions came over you and you caught yourself swallowing audibly as you tried to maintain some sort of control. You had already failed though and you knew that Satoru would try to use it to his advantage.
You wanted to ask him more but you knew that you couldn't as it was exactly what he wanted you to do so with slightly shaky hands you tried to focus on the task at hand.
Obviously he wouldn't drop the subject that easily though.
You felt his warm breath fawning the side of your face as he leaned closer to you, his eyes taking in the way you had pursed your lips and how you had furrowed your eyebrows as you weren't able to hide your feelings. You were missing your friends and family after all and the bastard knew it.
His own feelings rose up as he saw your face but not because he felt pity for you. Instead he felt his jealousy stirring slowly awake as he saw how affected you appeared by merely hearing him mentioning one of your friends. He envied the feelings you reserved only for them without giving him anything at all.
Why was that?
"Satoru..."
Your voice resembled more of a guttural growl when one of his hands grabbed your shoulders, clearly feeling how tensed your muscles were as you slowly cut off more price tags from pieces of clothing, your mind barely held together as you were trying in a last effort to hold back.
His name was spoken as a warning from your side as he knew that you were at your limit and that only from hearing from him about one of your friends. If he would have been a better man, he would have acknowledged how petty and low he was acting right now. However, Gojo Satoru wasn't a good man as jealousy started getting a hold of him.
"They all seemed to have quite a good time without you. It didn't really look like they were bemourning your disappearance. Perhaps you are the only one in the belief that they are missing you as much as you miss them."
You paused for seconds that seemed to stretch more than they should have before you put the shirt you had held in your hand down. Your head turned around as your own eyes met his blue ones. You didn't say anything at first, there wasn't even a trace of anger on your face as if you couldn't believe his words.
Then your pupils started quivering though and he saw how your gaze suddenly got poisoned with anger you had kept buried deep inside of you for the last few weeks.
You acted before you could even think as the one hand that had previously held the scissors suddenly flew towards him, fully committed to stab at least one of those cured blue eyes so that his gaze could never torment you again.
Only that the scissor never reached his eye. No matter what you tried, you couldn't move your hand any further, the sharp edge of the scissor only lingering close to his blue orbs.
It was that inability that caused you to snap out of your spiraling anger as you realised what you had just tried to do. You instantly withdrew your hand, visible shock on your face from your unexpected outburst. You felt your blood pumping through your veins and felt shame and frustration heating up your entire face as you had just lost your temper completely.
You ran your other hand through your hair as you took some shaky breaths to regain your control. When you finally managed to look up again, an apology lingering on your tongue for your reckless action that could have seriously wounded him, you found the words quickly dying down before they could even leave your mouth.
Normally already quite intense blue eyes were staring through you and your soul with a new weight to them that had you breaking out in cold sweat as you felt a cold sensation going down your spine.
You felt no relief when briefly his eyes darted down to look at your other hand which was still clutching the scissors on your palm, although you quickly dropped the object when you noticed his stare.
You flinched when one of his palms wrapped around your wrist and lifted your hand up. At first his touch was soft but within only a few seconds he tightened his hold until it felt like he was squeezing your bones.
You let out a short hiss when you felt the pain as you started squirming uncomfortably, trying to get him to let go of your wrist.
"You were about to stab me."
You shuddered when you heard the icy tone that seemingly matched his hardened and cold stare that he gave you right now, vastly different from what you were used.
You wanted to defend yourself. He had taunted you first and he had been the one who had brought you into such a situation were you would lose your self-control in the first place as you hadn't consciously intended to potentially hurt him seriously.
Yet he didn't let you utter even a single word as he pulled you closer to his body, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look right into those glowing eyes.
"You wouldn't hurt me, right? You care about me after all, even if you don't want to show it."
There was something in his tone that gave you the chills. It wasn't anger or anything similar to that emotion though. It was a tremble, a barely audible tremble of an emotion akin to denial that made him look dangerously much like he was about to break down in front of you. Whatever you had just done, it seemed to have triggered something dangerous inside of him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I just lost control of myself for a moment."
You swallowed as you uttered those words quickly, your honest tone only slightly tarnished by the pain you felt as he was still squeezing your wrist. You found your own breath stopping as you looked at his face, praying for whatever had possessed him to stop.
"I knew. You wouldn't want to harm me. It's alright, darling. I forgive you."
You felt no relief when he cooed those words at you as he pulled you closer, giving you a kiss on your forehead. Instead you foud your stomach churning as you felt the stress rising inside of you, warning you that something was about to happen.
"Close your eyes so it'll hurt less."
You knew what he had done when you heard the sound yet you didn't instantly feel the pain. Instead your widened eyes stared into his own blue ones with a mixture of shock and betrayal.
You stumbled back in shock, cradling your broken wrist against your chest as the pulsing and cutting pain finally began to settle in. Tears instantly started to gather in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks and choked sobs started leaving your lips as you slid down to the ground.
"I know. I know. It must hurt quite a bit."
His voice was sweet and soothing as his arms embraced you, one of his hands wiping away your tears as you continued staring at him with unbridled shock and terror as you felt soft touches on your face from the same hand that had just moments ago broken your wrist as if it was a mere twig.
The fear grew and grew until you felt unable to look into his eyes again, turning your eyes elsewhere as your lips started to wobble.
He had never hurt you before. Perhaps that's why you had felt so entitled to ignore him as he had been only ever acted like a clingy and whiny man around you.
Clearly you had been wrong though.
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bettsfic · 2 days
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Do you have any preferred notebooks? Anything better than Moleskine which I don't think would be hard (!!??)... The ink bleeding through to the page behind is so distracting. Random question but I figured you'd be perfect to ask!! Thank you
i've been waiting my entire tumblrlife for this, anon. stationery is one of my most persevering special interests.
just to caveat, i still use a moleskine for my personal journal, but i only write in it once or twice a month so they tend to last years. i bought my current journal in 2017 before enshittification and so i haven't had a problem with the paper. i use a felt-tip pen on it mostly, but even the few times i've tried fountain pens, i haven't had any bleed-through. it's really unfortunate they've gone downhill.
and i mean, for context, i beat the shit out of my moleskines. and look how they've held up!
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the one on the left i used from 2011 to 2017. it went all around the world with me and i carried it everywhere for 6 years. i taped every stupid scrap of paper i came across into it and that's why it's so beefy. the elastic band has stretched too far is all; i need to find something sturdier to keep it shut.
the one on the right i started in 2017 and i'm about 2/3rds through it. i tape some stuff in but not as much as i used to. at one point it was in my backpack in the overhead compartment of a plane and some guy's water bottle spilled all over it. i was devastated. but it slurped that shit up and kept trucking. you can't even tell it's waterlogged anymore.
my mom bought me a special edition van gogh moleskine for my birthday last year that i was planning to use for my next journal. i just tested the paper against the 2017 journal using a kaweco sport bold tip, and the van gogh paper does indeed bleed significantly more than the 2017 paper. a real shame. i'm probably still going to use it though, because i've kept the proud tradition of "use notebooks people buy me for my birthday as my next journal" since i was 14. also, i'll probably end up starting it when i'm 37, the age van gogh died.
last august marked my 20th anniversary of my journaling habit, btw. i was going to write a newsletter about it but it started spiraling into a whole-ass book and i had to set it down.
a close and higher quality alternative to moleskine, much beloved by bullet journalers, is leuchtturm. their A5 hardcover is very similar to the classic moleskine pictured above. i don't use one because i have no use for lie-flat notebooks for anything other than a personal journal (which is covered for the next decade or so), but i love buying them as gifts.
my commonplace notebook is the A4 rhodia top spiral, which i've mentioned in my newsletter before. there is something truly magical about this notebook. when i bought it, i carried it around with me everywhere even though i had no idea what to write in it. i started commonplacing before i even knew what that was, simply because the tactile and aesthetic sensation of filling each page was so satisfying. i go through 1-2 per year.
this isn't a notebook proper, but my research binders are B5 maruman clartes with their corresponding loose leaf paper. again, like the rhodia A4 top spiral, the sensation of writing on the paper and organizing the binder is very satisfying and so it encourages me to take a lot of notes.
maruman also makes the famously amazing mnemosyne series of notebooks. i haven't used one before but i really like them, and as soon as i need a high quality top spiral notebook that the A4 rhodia can't fulfill, that's what i'll be moving to.
my purse notebook is a field notes reporter's notebook. these are new so they haven't stood the test of time the way the others have, but i love the size and the binding, and afaik field notes is one of the few american stationery brands that hasn't fallen prey to a quality drop in paper. i also love field notes classic pocket notebook but have never been able to make a pocket notebook habit stick. it took me a long time to realize tiny notebooks don't encourage me to write in them, because a lot of my notebooking is about the thrill and aesthetic pleasure of seeing an overwhelming amount of text on a page.
my planner is a hobonichi techo weeks, which is the same size as the reporter's notebook and also goes in my purse. this is my first year using a hobonichi planner and i really love it. like the others, its quality encourages me to use it. i've found hobonichi overall is a really good notebook brand.
my sketchbook (which i don't use very much) is a strathmore 500 series mixed media softcover. i bought it before i realized how deterring i find lie-flat books and i think i would be more motivated to draw by investing in one of their wirebound ones, even though all the artists i follow on youtube tell you not to do that. i keep meaning to change it into a collage notebook instead, i just haven't had the time or desk space to do it.
and an honorable mention: before the pandemic, back when i did things and went places, i used a grand voyageur traveler's notebook from paper republic. i'm actually very sad i don't have much of a use for it anymore, but maybe one day i'll do stuff again and return to it. it's weird that i don't see paper republic mentioned often (ever) in bujo spheres, when i think their products are better than traveler's company (although i haven't tested one for a significant period of time; people swear by them though).
hopefully one or two of these stand out to you!
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entomjinx · 1 day
Text
ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!
It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)
The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.
The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.
That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.
This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.
After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.
We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.
Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.
The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.
The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.
And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)
This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.
Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:
I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.
-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.
-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.
-and now we get to the big one:
I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.
I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.
I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.
If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.
Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.
Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.
We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.
We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.
Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.
Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.
Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.
Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.
Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.
The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.
Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.
Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.
Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.
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venerawrites · 2 days
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Heya 👋
Can you do a pregnant s/o with neji, kiba, shino, Gaara??
Have a great day ❤️👋🌺
author's note: this is such a cute request, I really loved writing it! I actually wrote Gaara finding out his s/o is pregnant, where I kind of covered how he will be during the pregnancy, so I decided to cover only Neji, Kiba and Shino for this one. Hope you enjoy! <3
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➤  Neji
Given this is Neji we are talking about, I assume his s/o's pregnancy was more or less planned.
He and his partner have been trying to conceive for a while, since they've been married for a year already and the elders of his clan were already pestering them about children.
So when his s/o told him they are pregnant, he felt both rush of excitement and relief.
Probably one of the calmest and most composed men when it comes to his partner's pregnancy.
I imagine he has been preparing for this moment for a while by reading various books, consulting with some of the older women of his clan, as well doing his own research during his free time.
Definitely more ready and knowledgeable than his s/o about it.
I have always been of the opinion that Neji is very traditional guy, who dreams of having a family of his own.
As such, he is overprotective from Day 1.
He will accompany his s/o everywhere, help them with chores and would try to stop them from doing any missions straight away, worried that the risk of losing either of them is way too big. (I say try, because he will probably be unsuccessful till the last few months)
Has a tendency to be a bit paranoid and scold his s/o if he ever see them doing even something by themselves.
I feel his s/o would find all his efforts and worries somewhat adorable in the beginning, but as their pregnancy progress and their hormones start going crazy, they will start losing their patience with him.
I imagine the second half of the pregnancy may be a bit stressful for both of you (and everyone around you tbh!), since his s/o won't hold back their complaints about Neji's behaviour and in turn he will be annoyed about why is his s/o angry, when all he tries to do is to take care of them.
Treats his partner like an absolute ROYALTY tho
His s/o want a silk pillowcase, because otherwise they can't fall asleep? He will go around the whole Hyuga compound to find them one.
His s/o is craving his famous vanilla ice cream in the middle of the night? He is spending the hours preparing it from scratch for them.
Overall, his s/o's pregnancy would go quite easy, as he is very attentive and already knows quite a bit about what to expect and how to handle his s/o's mood swings.
➤  Kiba
Where do I even start with this one?
Initially, when his s/o told him they were pregnant, he was absolutely perplexed.
He knew they were not always super strict with the protection, but so far they have always been safe from incidents.
Like, he is not against becoming a dad - quite the opposite, he would love to have a house FULL with little Inuzuka babies, BUT he just was not sure he was ready at that point.
He is not really sure how to prepare tho?
Unlike Neji, he is not in the mood to go around and spend days reading boring books about childbirth and pregnancies, neither he felt comfortable talking with his family about it.
I imagine he is the type of guy that just grab his s/o's hand and give them a reassuring smile, saying: "It's okay, we are going to figure it out together!"
And they do. The beginning is a bit messy, both him and his s/o don't really know what to expect and if they should expect anything at all at this early stage.
I don't think he is going to treat his partner any differently, because for the first few months they look pretty much the same as before, so in his mind they should be perfectly capable to continue going on missions, do chores etc.
His s/o's period of throwing up almost every night and feeling sick every time they take a bite of food COMPLETELY throws him off and he is phoning Sakura almost every day, asking her to come to his house and check his s/o
When his partner gets their mood swings, their house becomes almost like a battlefield - poor man doesn't really know why his s/o is behaving that way and would constantly be baffled by his s/o's behaviour
"Why are you screaming at me? Don't you dare throwing that pillow-Ow! Dammit!"
I imagine that he will have to seek his mother's and sister's help in the later stage of the pregnancy, it is just TOO MUCH to handle
That doesn't stop him from wanting to have another kid pretty soon after his s/o gives birth to their first one - now that he has seen how they glow when they are pregnant, he plans to keep them like that quite often
➤  Shino
Our favourite boy Shino... his s/o is honestly lucky to have him during their pregnancy.
When they first told him they were pregnant, he didn't show much of an emotion, other than letting his lips curve in a small smile, before resting a gentle kiss against his s/o's temple.
He was definitely happy about the news, but as I always imagined him as a quite laid back individual, his reaction is actually pretty calm and relaxed compared to many other Naruto men.
In the beginning, his behaviour doesn't change much - he tries not to intervene too much with his s/o's freedom and let them do whatever they want.
If they want to continue doing missions - that's fine by him, even tho he may ask the Hokage to send him with them if possible.
If they want to stay at home - he doesn't mind taking a complete care of his them, if this is how they are going to feel comfortable.
He is very attentive and always listen to his s/o's wishes and needs.
For this reason I actually think his partner is going to have pretty easy pregnancy - they would feel relaxed and comfortable in Shino's care, adopting his view that parenthood would just come naturally to them.
I don't even think they would have any pregnancy symptoms, even at the late stage - their behaviour and relationship with Shino remains pretty much the same. (I mean, even when hormonal, you can't really be angry at this softie, can you?)
Also, I imagine he may propose during his s/o pregnancy? He had always knew he wanted to officially make them their partner, so this felt like the perfect time to tie the knot tbh.
cc artwork: Pengzhen Zhang
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sleepyelliee · 2 days
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taking a bath with jack marston.
౨ৎ SUMMARY... your favorite gunslinger seems to have trouble keeping himself together during the rough patch he is currently experiencing, so you decide to step in and tend to his needs.
౨ৎ RATING...fluff ! but, mentions of depression, implied grief, dirt, bacteria, nude body, alcoholism, scars, cuts, and bruises, implied financial situation, loneliness, implied to be shorter than him, GN READER. no 'y/n', just 'you.' Loosely proofread. established relationship.
౨ৎ CREDITS... thank you sooo much, @slversprngs for allowing me to use your jack drawings <3. you should definitely check them out because they make amazing art.
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You were familiar with the young man and his family who lived couple blocks down from your ranch and your father would trade different products each month with the Marston's. This soon became a way to know the teenage boy as his mother, Abigail started to invite your family to dinner every other weekend, an attempt to make her loner son have some friends since all he did was read books and help out his father whenever they did ranch work.
Abigail thought you were a good influence, you liked reading books and engaged in conversations whenever her or her beloved husband would ask about your hobbies or they observed how you would treat their son. The Marston's loved having your family around and soon enough you became a family friend, and a best friend to Jack.
All those memories and dinners with the Marston family soon came an end three years ago, when Jack's father, John passed away and soon after that his mother passed as well.
It changed the young man - crushed him to pieces that it altered his personality. The old sarcastic boy you knew was far from that now, he was quiet and only kept to himself with that stoic mask he displays to everyone.
It seems you were an expectation because he wasn't entirely closed off, he still spoke to you occasionally about the things he's doing in his life - aiming to kill Edgar Ross, a man who murdered his father apparently.
You didn't know what to say to that, two wrongs don't make a right. But, you couldn't stop the young man as he let his anger out about the whole situation as he spoke about it whenever he would lean against the railings of his porch and you would quietly listen to his rambling.
...
Opening the crunched up newspaper that was left in your mailbox messily caught you off guard. The retired federal agent, Edgar Ross was reported as dead - something you didn't want to take literally due to how sweet the young man used to be in the past, nor wanted to believe his words of murder true. You felt terrible because you knew that the true fate of the man before it took place and deep down you knew you could've reported it to the law.
That's what you repeated to yourself numerous times - never to ever interact with an outlaw, a gunslinger, a murderer, someone like him, but you found yourself stripping naked to wash the young man as you slowly got into the bathtub.
"You don't have to do this," The gunslinger repeated as he took a heavy inhale, trying to respect you in the best way possible without making this awkward, "You know you can leave, right?" He continued but any conviction seemed to land on deaf ears.
"Mhm, I know." You muttered, reaching over to grab the shampoo and rubbing it on your hands before massage it into his scalp. The built up grease from days or even weeks was noticable but you decided not to speak about it.
Jack feels guilty - not for the killing a man but how he's making you, a childhood friend of his clean him up like he's a baby. The alcohol in his system doesn't make the anxiousness fade away as he is afraid you'll judge him - you'll will leave him.
He doesn't know how long it's been that he genuinely felt so clean but he won't ever even admit a side of vulnerability despite the fact he allowed you to take care of him.
After shampooing his hair, you gently wash off the shampoo and rubbed conditioner on your hand before going in and applying it to the outlaw's dark hair, causing him to hum. "What else are you goin' to do?" He questions as his gaze slowly meets yours, hoping you won't be grossed out.
"Do you want me to wash your shoulders? You...uh, can do the rest.." You mutter as your cheeks grew into a rosy red. Damn. He swears that look you give him anytime you get embarrassed will be the death of him.
Jack doesn't comment on it though, he silently reaches down and takes hold of your waist and pulls you closer. "Don't stress it," The gunslinger mutters, slowly dipping his face in the curve of your neck. "Darlin'..? Love you."
Jack Marston was not a vulnerable man, but in this moment, he felt safe and secure in your arms.
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Thank you soo much for reading ! reblogs and likes are very much appreciated... please do not repost my work on any other platform. Masterlist
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sebastianswallows · 2 days
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The English Client — Eight
— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.
— WARNINGS: none
— WORDCOUNT: 2.8k
— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir
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I
It had been several days since she’d introduced Tom to the Baron. Perhaps a full week already passed. In truth, she stopped keeping count.
She had waited outside the Baron’s office for him, and pretended it was just to make sure he didn’t lose his way on his way back to the hotel, but selfishly she was curious to know how their meeting had gone. Did the Baron like the books? Did he like Tom? Did Tom like him? The latter was unlikely. Only special personalities ever did, and her new friend was neither bootlicker nor snob.
But Tom was frustratingly silent on their way back to the station, and no gentle prodding from her would nudge a hint of what had happened. His body was stiff and straight as if in a march, and his gaze was focused on the road ahead. He spared her only a few, rather shy glances now and then, as if he had just taken something from her. There would be no further trade, she understood that much…
She hadn’t seen him since.
The old routine of life that she fell back into suddenly no longer satisfied. She frustrated herself by thinking of him now and then, his face appearing to her for an instant, and then she would start wondering where he was, what he was doing, was he thinking of her, would he ever come back… For all she knew, he had left for England already, and then she would become spontaneously angry and afraid, and her handling of the books would roughen, and her steps would sound quite loud, and nothing would taste good to her anymore.
But all it would take to lift her spirits was the chiming of the bell — was that Tom? — before she saw it was just Sister Silvia or another flock of tourists. Oh. Buongiorno.
She was stocking the shelves at the far end of the shop one morning when the bell ran once again, and through the silence, she heard steady footsteps, firm and prim and strong. She descended and went to them, and when she saw a dark head of hair and a tight lean torso in a plain white shirt, her heart trilled. She smiled as she approached him, faster, faster, and called out a bright ‘hello’. But then the young man turned and broke the spell.
“B-buongiorno,” she mumbled, stopping to a halt. “Posso aiutarla?”
“Oui, er… Si. Cercando un libro di… Torchia?” he said in lightly accented Italian. Was he French? “Quello nella vetrina.”
“Certamente. E come si chiama, signore?”
“Clement Merle,” he said with a smooth rolling of the tongue. “Piacere, signorina.”
Whatever faint smile she had faded. She realised with horror that she would have to tell the Baron about this, and suddenly everything felt quite cold. She forced a grin and nodded, and invited Clement further inside.
II
Tom did not particularly enjoy the taste of coffee, even after having to inflict it on himself these past few weeks for the sake of fitting in. It was a muggle drink and made him somewhat restless when he drank too much of it.
But now that he had started partaking of it on an almost daily basis, he recognised in it a certain quality. It, unlike tea, did not remind him of Mrs. Cole, nor any of the other ladies at the orphanage. Combined, they must’ve drank the Empire’s supply of the stuff while he was there, and to this day he couldn’t bring himself to touch certain varieties, like the Ceylon they favoured.
But he was here now, just another dark-haired man sipping from a little cup throughout the hour while he sat outside and pretended to read a newspaper…
The whole day, he hadn’t ventured anywhere outside of the hotel. He ordered breakfast in his room and spent most of the morning reading. Later, he had lunch at the restaurant downstairs and let the hours drain away at the bar. He hadn’t brought any books with him, they were too important — especially the ones that screamed when opened.
People came and went, and between lunch and dinnertime, he was propositioned on at least four occasions. It was hard to tell with foreign women… They were either too overt, too subtle, or both. But it reminded him, in a manner that made a chill slink down his spine and rise up in his stomach, of the Baron: that same narcissism and pride. As for the attention of the women, that reminded him of England, and his extra-contractual work for Burke. Depravity, fel need, and the loneliness of witches.
Perhaps it was their wealth that he resented, or their looks that he despised, women married for their money with the grit to bear a loveless match… Tom humiliated himself for them, swallowed his own pride, and touched, when it came down to it, their most guarded parts. But no matter what deluded charms they exercised, they never entered through his blood, his eyes, his mouth, to reach him, and Tom could not imagine any of the women he had met so far as able to, through their lips or tender touch, incite his soul to plummet to the level of the body, nor bring his body to the dark heights of his soul.
And of course, how could they? Women who had never worked a day in their lives, women who slept on treasures they neither valued nor truly recognised. Selfish creatures suffering vainly in their little cages, whose ignorance and cowardice enticed him to the brink of murder. No, now that he was away from England and free from Burke and Borgin’s demands, he would not subject himself to any more of that.
“Signor Riddle?”
He nearly jumped from his seat as he heard the clerk call for him from the entrance.
“Si?” he asked, turning around. This was the same prick who recommended that horrible restaurant to him. His eyes narrowed.
“Ah, telephone for you. Cabine two.”
“Grazie,” he muttered.
Tom left the newspaper and his cold coffee behind and walked out to the little chamber on the other side of the hotel where the phone booths were.
“Ahem, yes? Tom Riddle speaking.”
“Tom? Oh, hello! I was afraid you wouldn’t be in…”
It was her.
“Yes, took a break from sight-seeing,” he answered, casually leaning against the booth. “It’s good to hear from you again. Everything alright?”
“Of course, of course it is.”
“Really? You sound a little… nervous.” It was hard to keep the smile from his voice.
“No, everything’s fine,” she said quietly. “I just called because… because…”
Tom held the phone to his ear tightly. She sounded like she was going to cry any minute.
“Because I was wondering whether you’d be able to stop by the shop anytime soon.”
“I’d be glad to,” said Tom, summoning a tone of innocent confusion. “But what’s this about?”
“The… the Baron has reconsidered your offer.”
“He’ll trade the books?”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, the connection wavering. “I just know he wants to talk to you. He’d like to make an offer.”
“Very well. When?”
“When can you come?”
“Today.”
“Oh, that’s… That would be perfect,” she said excitedly.
“Good,” Tom smiled. “You close at half past five, yes? I can come then.”
“Thank you so much, Tom. I’ll be waiting for you inside. Bring the books with you, just in case.”
“I will,” he said. “Goodbye for now.”
“Bye…”
III
He arrived there a little early and waited for a while. He hadn’t expected to see a dark little car parked beside the shop, but at least it confirmed what he already suspected. The Baron was inside.
From the outside, the place seemed closed for the day save for a faint little light coming from a corner of the room. He knocked on the door and, as he waited for somebody to answer, he looked in through the window. There was no sign of Clement anywhere, but that volume of Torchia — the bait they set for him — was gone.
It didn’t matter what happened to Clement, of course, because Tom had been at the hotel all day which all the staff there could attest to. It might have been a little callous, sacrificing him like that, but at least it took suspicion away from him. That, and the monogrammed Swiss knife he’d left under the table. Oh well. Clement had been annoying anyway.
Like a light in the darkness, she came into view.
“Tom!” he heard her say from the other side. She rushed to open the door, her smile shaky and wide. “You came…”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” he grinned cockily as he took his coat off. “So, how have you been?”
Silent as he stepped through, she locked up again behind him, then took his coat and hung it up on the rack behind the door. There was a haunted look in her eyes that wished to say so much.
“Fine, just fine. And how are you?”
“Good,” Tom nodded. He looked down at her figure — fetching as always but closed off, tight, her legs stiff and her hands ruddy as if she’d rubbed them raw in icy water.
“Enough with the pleasantries, I haven’t got all night!” came a familiar voice from the next room.
“Si, signore.”
“Venite qui!”
With an apologetic sigh, she showed him through.
“I’ve been well, by the way,” Tom said to her. “I did so much sightseeing this past week that it was nice to rest for a few days.”
“I honestly thought you’d returned to England by now.”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry to do that.”
“And your employer?”
“Is far away. Just the way I like it,” he winked. He knew she felt the same.
She gave him a knowing smile, then stood aside as she invited him into the last room.
The Baron was there, seated in his bulky wheelchair by the table. He was smoking his pipe, or rather chewing on it, as he levelled a thick scowl at Tom. The dark surrounded them. The only point of light was a faint lamp glowing before the Baron.
“Mr. Riddle,” he said. His expression was unchanged as Tom stepped through as if he were talking to a projection in his mind and not a person right before him. “It seems we were destined to meet again.”
“And I thought you willingly invited me,” he smiled.
“I asked you to come here. I haven’t invited you to anything yet.”
Tom shrugged and looked around, pretending to be less familiar with this room than he really was.
“I must say, Baron, being called on such short notice, so suddenly and rushed… It seems, if I can afford to say so, quite unlike you.”
The old man took another puff and clenched his jaw in thought, the loose teeth creaking in his mouth.
“This place will be of interest to you, I can assure you,” he said.
“So, should I give you the books now, or…?”
The Baron and the girl behind him exchanged a look. She closed the door behind them, then moved to the left. Tom turned his head and followed her shadowed silhouette.
She bent and pulled the carpet neatly by the edge, skirt tightening enticingly around her thighs, then knelt. He couldn’t see just what she was doing, but he could hear the click of a metallic lock, and when she stepped over to the side he could see an entrance where that trapdoor was, a gaping doorway in the floor. The jaundiced light fell over a few wooden steps that descended into darkness.
Tom looked at her. She seemed quite… apprehensive, as if afraid, but proud as well to share a secret part of her with him. Tom considered using Legilimency on her to see if he was in any danger — they had probably killed Clement, after all — but he did not yet know what magical defences this place had, and now that he was so close to penetrating their little group it would have been foolish to gamble.
“Join me downstairs,” the Baron said, and as if summoned she hurried to his side to help roll him forward. “I have something to show you.”
She avoided Tom’s gaze as she walked past, and stopped at the trapdoor. The railings on its side hooked neatly underneath the wheelchair and, carefully held by his clerk, he descended. Tom followed close behind.
The steps went on for quite a while, and soon the light from upstairs vanished. He held on to the same railings as he went down step by step, further into darkness and unknown alike. He smelled wood and dirt, and the dry chill that came with old stonework.
After a while, he heard a shuffling and squeaking of wheels, which meant they’d reached the floor. Someone flipped a switch, and light pooled underneath. Tom squinted for a moment, then continued his descent. He could estimate they were some two stories deep.
A shadow began climbing toward him. He slowed his steps and, once she reached him, touched her arm. She stopped and only then looked into his eyes, their bodies were closer now than ever.
“Where does this lead?” he whispered.
“Just follow the Baron,” she said with a weak smile in an air of surrender. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to close the door behind us.”
“Nobody else is coming, the shop is locked up,” he scoffed.
“It’s the rule,” she said, shrugging her arm out of his grasp and climbing onward.
IV
The Baron was waiting at the bottom and began rolling away when Tom arrived. He took a moment to look around him, but there was nothing remarkable to see. Merely an empty corridor of smooth cement, and a few electric fixtures on the walls, small lightbulbs the size of candle flames. There wasn’t even anything on the ground, although judging by the fading on the edges Tom could guess a carpet had been there not long ago.
After a few moments of walking in silence, the Baron spoke again.
“I have something for you to evaluate tonight.”
“Something?”
“A few books,” he said. “What exactly is your profession in England?”
“I serve my employer as both sales clerk and purchasing agent.”
“For how long?”
“Seven years, sir.”
“That’s not a lot,” said the old man, “for them to trust you with an international assignment like this.”
“It seems they are satisfied with my work so far.”
The Baron hummed, and Tom could tell he was trying to seem less impressed than he was. Typical of men like that, to downplay the achievements of others. A bully’s attitude. Tom could not — and indeed refused to — say that he knew muggles well, but he knew arrogance, and pride, and stuck up aristocracy.
With a prim clipping of the heels, they were joined again by his assistant. Her hands went immediately to the handles of the wheelchair and she began to help the Baron forward.
“Where’s halfway there,” she said, a little out of breath.
“Hurry up, then, before he leaves.”
Tom cocked a brow, wondering who they were referring to.
“So, how do you feel?” she asked him in a quieter voice.
“I should be asking you that,” said Tom.
“Oh, I’m fine…”
It sounded like the sort of ‘fine’ that women often gave when they had something else to say. Her large eyes, her tight closed lips, the whole nervous energy of her that night disturbed him. He liked her better up a ladder, picking dusty volumes off high shelves, her body held up in the air just by one little foot and a few fingers. Or poured over a hot desk, her breath suspended as she wrote, ink pen poised between her fingers much like a witch’s wand. Not… this. This servitude. It made bile rise up in Tom’s throat. For a moment, he imagined their places switched, then realised it would have made no difference — he was the same with Burke as she was with the Baron. He put aside this notion before it made him angry too.
They were finally approaching something different than grey walls and naked lightbulbs. Tom could see thick red drapery and lamps, and the hint of doorways further on. A single blade of light cut across the floor, shivering with hints of a figure moving on the inside.
“Now, Mr. Riddle,” said the Baron, “we’ll see if you’re worthy of carrying those books with you, and of carrying yet more.”
Tom’s left hand secured the strap of the messenger bag around his shoulder, and his left hovered at his pocket, near his wand. That had sounded an awful lot like a threat.
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frankenfossil · 8 months
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Been slowly transcribing the archive of my comic hence no new updates lately but I decided to chart my progress (in terms of number of pages). Will update the image pinned post as I go
and also this is how I finally learned how to make a gif (it was uhhh easy!!) everybody wants animated graphs right.
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creative-hanyou-girl · 5 months
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Just now convinced my mom to watch the Percy Jackson show with me by playing some songs from the musical and showing her the tv trailer. I got her now, boys!!!! I'd call this a win!!!!😈😈😈
We love watching Harry Potter together and I'm hoping Percy Jackson will be the next big thing we marathon together!
Even better is that my mom was asking who Percy's godly parent is and I refused to tell her. She knows nothing about Percy Jackson so I can't wait for her to find out all the stuff I already know.
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#my mom's interested in mythology and loves HP and said the trailer reminds her of HP#which YES I told her it would!!!!#i told her Percy Jackson was basically like Harry Potter but make it Greek mythology#we love Harry Potter so I'm really hoping she loves Percy Jackson and we can make it a thing we marathon together#I got so insanely excited when mom started asking questions about Percy Jackson mid way through the campfire song#she was like 'he doesn't know who his godly parent is?' and was confused in how the others knew their parents#so I DID briefly explain the who claiming thing to her but thats it#i dont want to spoil her anything else#so I'll probably watch the PJO episodes by myself first before I watch with mom#just to get my fangirling out and not spoil her anything while we're watching ya know?#imagine if my mom falls in love with PJO like HP and reads the books😂#I'd be so happy if she did that#she's been meaning to read HP eventually and I'd love if she put PJO on that list#I've got the HP and PJO books so she borrow them if she wants#I love the fact that my brother introduced my mom to HP years ago and I'm about to introduce her to PJO#it'll be even better if she falls in love with PJO just like HP#also she snorted at the 'Aphrodite in her nighty' line from the campfire song#that is a pountless add in tag but I wanted to mention that cus it was funny#one day I'd love to see the musical in person with her since we love musicals too#and my mom loves rock music so she should like it too right?#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson tv show#percy jackson musical#percy jackson trailer#please no HP hate in the comments#i like both#my mom watches PJO#harry potter
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I saw this on quora and thought it was cool and wanted to share it on here.  Its a long read but crazy.  Its from Erik Painter
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They did try. And they did capture Navajo men. However, they were unsuccessful in using them to decipher the code. The reason was simple. The Navajo Code was a code that used Navajo. It was not spoken Navajo. To a Navajo speaker, who had not learned the code, a Navajo Code talker sending a message sounds like a string of unconnected Navajo words with no grammar. It was incomprehensible. So, when the Japanese captured a Navajo man named Joe Kieyoomia in the Philippines, he could not really help them even though they tortured him. It was nonsense to him.
The Navajo Code had to be learned and memorized. It was designed to transmit a word by word or letter by letter exact English message. They did not just chat in Navajo. That could have been understood by a Navajo speaker, but more importantly translation is never, ever exact. It would not transmit precise messages. There were about 400 words in the Code.
The first 31 Navajo Marines created the Code with the help of one non-Navajo speaker officer who knew cryptography. The first part of the Code was made to transmit English letters. For each English letter there were three (or sometimes just two) English words that started with that letter and then they were translated into Navajo words. In this way English words could be spelled out with a substitution code. The alternate words were randomly switched around. So, for English B there were the Navajo words for Badger, Bear and Barrel. In Navajo that is: nahashchʼidí, shash, and tóshjeeh. Or the letter A was Red Ant, Axe, or Apple. In Navajo that is: wóláchííʼ, tsénił , or bilasáana. The English letter D was: bįįh=deer, and łééchąąʼí =dog, and chʼįįdii= bad spiritual substance (devil).
For the letter substitution part of the Code the word “bad” could be spelled out a number of ways. To a regular Navajo speaker it would sound like: “Bear, Apple, Dog”. Or other times it could be “ Barrel, Red Ant, Bad Spirit (devil)”. Other times it could be “Badger, Axe, Deer”. As you can see, for just this short English word, “bad” there are many possibilities and to the combination of words used. To a Navajo speaker, all versions are nonsense. It gets worse for a Navajo speaker because normal Navajo conjugates in complex ways (ways an English or Japanese speaker would never dream of). These lists of words have no indicators of how they are connected. It is utterly non-grammatical.
Then to speed it up, and make it even harder to break, they substituted Navajo words for common military words that were often used in short military messages. None were just translations. A few you could figure out. For example, a Lieutenant was “one silver bar” in Navajo. A Major was “Gold Oak Leaf” n Navajo. Other things were less obvious like a Battleship was the word for Whale in Navajo. A Mine Sweeper was the Navajo word for Beaver.
A note here as it seems hard for some people to get this. Navajo is a modern and living language. There are, and were, perfectly useful Navajo words for submarines and battleships and tanks. They did not “make up words because they had no words for modern things”. This is an incorrect story that gets around in the media. There had been Navajo in the military before WWII. The Navajo language is different and perhaps more flexible than English. It is easy to generate new words. They borrow very few words and have words for any modern thing you can imagine. The words for telephone, or train, or nuclear power are all made from Navajo stem roots.
Because the Navajo Marines had memorized the Code there was no code book to capture. There was no machine to capture either. They could transmit it over open radio waves. They could decode it in a few minutes as opposed to the 30 minutes to two hours that other code systems at the time took. And, no Navajo speaker who had not learned the Code could make any sense out of it.
The Japanese had no published texts on Navajo. There was no internationally available description of the language. The Germans had not studied it at the time. The Japanese did suspect it was Navajo. Linguists thought it was in the Athabaskan language family. That would be pretty clear to a linguist. And Navajo had the biggest group of speakers of any Athabaskan language. That is why they tortured Joe Kieyoomia. But, he could not make sense of it. It was just a list of words with no grammar and no meaning.
For Japanese, even writing the language down from the radio broadcasts would be very hard. It has lots of sounds that are not in Japanese or in English. It is hard to tell where some words end or start because the glottal stop is a common consonant. Frequency analysis would have been hard because they did not use a single word for each letter. And some words stood for words instead of for a letter. The task of breaking it was very hard.
Here is an example of a coded message:
béésh łigai naaki joogii gini dibé tsénił áchį́į́h bee ąą ńdítį́hí joogi béésh łóó’ dóó łóóʼtsoh
When translated directly from Navajo into English it is:
“SILVER TWO BLUE JAY CHICKEN HAWK SHEEP AXE NOSE KEY BLUE JAY IRON FISH AND WHALE. “
You can see why a Navajo who did not know the Code would not be able to do much with that. The message above means: “CAPTAIN, THE DIVE BOMBER SANK THE SUBMARINE AND BATTLESHIP.”
“Two silver bars” =captain. Blue jay= the. Chicken hawk= dive bomber. Iron fish = sub. Whale= battleship. “Sheep, Axe Nose Key”=sank. The only normal use of a Navajo word is the word for “and” which is “dóó ”. For the same message the word “sank” would be spelled out another way on a different day. For example, it could be: “snake, apple, needle, kettle”.
Here, below on the video, is a verbal example of how the code sounded. The code sent below sounded to a Navajo speaker who did not know the Code like this: “sheep eyes nose deer destroy tea mouse turkey onion sick horse 362 bear”. To a trained Code Talker, he would write down: “Send demolition team to hill 362 B”. The Navajo Marine Coder Talker then would give it to someone to take the message to the proper person. It only takes a minute or so to code and decode.
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iicarused · 2 months
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Hi! ^^ I saw that your requests are open. Can you please do nsfw headcanons for Vox, Alastor and maybe Adam (if you’re open to write for him if not no worries!) with an S/O (separte) who is really sweet, but when they get to the bedroom for the first time she starts some kinky stuff once she’s comfortable enough. Stuff that they never knew would leave her mouth? How would they react?
I hope you have a beautiful day! ^^
##good girl
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separate! vox x reader / alastor x reader / adam x reader
beware: smut, blowjob, knife play, biting, choking, cockwarming, rut, breeding kink, overstimulation, electric play, degradation, praise, mention of rope bunny, marking
a/n: thanks for being the reason why i post nsfw for the first time LMFAOO like actually i never posted it before so mb if these aren’t great<3
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VOX
when you and vox started dating, the last thing he thought of was you being fun in the bedroom. now don’t get him wrong, he enjoys a little vanilla sex from time to time: but for you? a whole different story.
he thought you were more tame, to be fair, you were a whole sweetheart. but there came a time where he got a little too in his head and light electricity emitted from the palms of his hands.
he was so close to pulling away but the sound that came from you? he couldn’t stop. now, the electricity was not harsh, but instead sizzled over your skin: it’s how he often took off steam. the two words that really tied the knot is when you said “use me,” between kisses
the last thing he figured is that you were into choking, and here he is with his fingers curled around your neck. heavy breaths and degrading words being whispered to your ear.
“such a fucking whore begging for my cock like this, and here i thought i knew you.”
honestly, he gets even more ecstatic to know you’re a freak just as much as he is. his a corruption kink and your putter sona of portraying and innocent sweet heart really sparks that in him.
after figuring out this information, he enjoys calling you into his office and have you ccokwarm him. feeling you clench around him the longer you cannot move, or he will grip on your thighs to make you still.
ALASTOR
breeding link goes heavy and it was because that is how he found out about you’re kinky side. it was while he had you in a mating press when you let out those sweet words of “breed me, breed me, please alastor!” the begging and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders when he released.
“gun’na fill you right up until your dripping with my seed.”
he was quick to play into it that night, because things got more exciting after that. there was no genuine shock because to alastor? you were just so sweet and kind that you had to be hiding something. being a freak in bed was one of the last things but it was there.
the last thing he expected was stop being until knife play — it would be waaay later until he found that out, and how he did? he noticed the way you writhed under him whenever this his claws glided against your plush skin. the sounds you makes when his digs his nails into your thighs while he’s rutting into you.
breeding link mixed with overstimulation for this radio demon — only during a rut — other times, he’s fine and sex doesn’t occur often. usually to satisfy you when he isn’t in the mood, he lays you out on the bed while he reads a book and fingers you. can and will eat you out like it’s his last meal if you’re being too whiny.
ADAM
“such a slut, couldn’t wait for my cock and had to be fucked on the table in my office, huh?”
he knew you were a freak, he loved tying you up in the bedroom and using you until you were overstimulated. but when you came into his office and was more touchy, that caught him off guard. first, he thought you were joking. now he has you bent over his desk with a hand over your mouth, praying internally that the seraphim’s don’t catch this.
another part of him hopes to be caught. everyone believes that you’re some sweet angel who can do better than adam, but he’s the only one who can rail you until your legs begin to shake. (you wonder why lilith and eve left him sometimes)
goes crazy when you take his hand and place it where you wanna be touched. “i need words, sugar, what do you want me to do?” very oral with you, especially when he ties you up. leaving hickies isn’t enough, this man will bite into your skin (if you’re okay with it.) and ruin you
please be oral with him too, it will drive him fucking nuts. sharper thrusts and loves pressing you against the wall.
no because he will definitely have you bounce on his cock in the office but his wings will spread around the two of you for more privacy after he became the lead extermination angel.
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homunculus-argument · 3 months
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Reading Really Old Books has given me another angle of perspective to why "show, don't tell" is so important: you can always tell what you can see, even if you can't know for sure what you're looking at. It helps mend the gap, both intentionally when you're not 100% sure of what you're talking about, and as an insurance just in case readers of the future might know more about it than you currently do.
If a book from the 1800s just dismissively says "his previously so strong-willed wife developed hysteria after the incident", I'm going to roll my eyes and dismiss this right back. But if the same incident is illustrated by describing the way she becomes frightened and starts shaking at the sight of something only marginally related to the tramatising incident, I can draw my own conclusions and go "oh, she's triggered by the sight of horse reins. The reins remind her of the Someone Got Stomped To Death By A Horse -incident, and she is triggered by the sight of them. This woman has PTSD." And I'll have more respect for the author, who clearly looked at whatever he saw in the enviroment of his time, instead of dismissively assuming that he knew what he was looking at, and trusting that the readers would do the same.
The concept of ADHD wasn't known during the time when William Stearns Davis wrote his book A Friend of Caesar. And had he known a term for it, he may not have used it. But in the way he wrote the book, you can see that Davis had read multiple accounts of the kind of shit that Julius Caesar apparently did in his life. And wrote the man who had died centuries before the author was born having The Symptoms exactly the same way as I do whenever I'm unmedicated.
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