#Teacher Allocation

[rightnewshindi]

हिमाचल में स्कूलों का दर्जा घटेगा, कम विद्यार्थियों वाले स्कूलों पर सख्त फैसला; जानें पूरी खबर

Himachal News: हिमाचल प्रदेश में कम विद्यार्थियों वाले स्कूलों का दर्जा अब नए दाखिलों के आधार पर घटाया जाएगा। राज्य मंत्रिमंडल ने मुख्यमंत्री सुखविंदर सिंह सुक्खू को यह फैसला लेने का अधिकार दिया। शिक्षा मंत्री रोहित ठाकुर भी इस प्रक्रिया में अहम भूमिका निभाएंगे। स्कूल निदेशालय ने जिला उपनिदेशकों से नए दाखिलों का ब्योरा मांगा है। 20 से कम विद्यार्थियों वाले हाई स्कूलों का दर्जा मिडल स्कूल में बदला…

[foldingfittedsheets]

Everything is so hardddd. I've applied for several jobs this morning and I'm in talks with a nonprofit to get help launching a website for my comics and stickers. I couldn't offer as many products as like Redbubble but I'd make way more of the profit so that'd be cool.

Also thinking of printing physical copies of my comics and that's a whole bucket of worms I can't open but it's sitting there in my brain like a heavy tub of worms would do. I still need to come up with a plan for lunch and run errands and after all that virtue I can finally plop myself down and draw more Aisling and Kleo.

[ravings-of-an-almost-teacher]

genuinely can't wait to fucking lose my mind this winter break

[melanchoire]

LES ──── kim minji.

── ( ☕ ) convinced a private, locked-door confrontation is the only way to finally end the never-ending war with your infuriatingly brilliant nemesis, minji, you corner her in the bathroom, only to find that your strategy backfires spectacularly as the close quarters and heightened emotions lead to an unforeseen and intensely awkward exploration of desires you never knew you harbored.

pairing. mean dom!student council president!kim minji x sub!student council vice president!fem reader

warning(s.) cunnilingus, degradation, fingering, making out.

word count. 4,9k

author’s note. rushed fic 💔 sorry if it’s bad

okay, buckle up. this is going to be a long ride, and your seat on the student council is about to get a whole lot hotter.

the air in the student council room hung thick with the scent of stale pizza and barely-contained tension. sunlight, already starting to fade, streamed through the dusty windows, illuminating the faces of your colleagues. they were a motley crew: danielle, the perpetually stressed treasurer; haerin, the quiet, dependable secretary; and a scattering of other students, eager (or perhaps just obligated) to shape the future of seoul high.

you glanced at the agenda in front of you: “student council debate: proposals for school improvement.” your stomach clenched. you’d spent weeks crafting these proposals, pouring over student surveys, and even enduring mrs. davies’ notoriously dull lectures on budget allocation. you believed in these ideas – cleaner bathrooms, a broader range of extracurricular clubs, maybe even a decent coffee machine in the teacher's lounge (okay, that one was for mrs. davies’ sake, but still!).

but your gaze kept drifting to minji, the student council president, perched at the head of the worn–out table. her expression was, as always when you presented your ideas, a carefully constructed mask of polite skepticism. her dark hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, accentuating the sharp angles of her face — you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way minji was meticulously arranging her pens, each click a tiny hammer blow against your nerves. her posture was perfect, back ramrod straight, head tilted at a slight, perpetually critical angle. you knew that look. it was the “i’m about to dissect everything you say and make you question your entire existence” look. she looked every inch the composed, confident leader that everyone else saw. you, however, knew the carefully constructed façade for what it was.

“alright.” minji announced, her voice smooth and polished, like a freshly lacquered table. "Let's begin. (y/n), you may present your first proposal."

you stood, your heart doing a frantic tango in your chest. “good morning, everyone. my first proposal focuses on improving the condition of the student restrooms. surveys indicate a significant level of dissatisfaction, with students citing issues like lack of soap, broken dispensers, and overall cleanliness. i propose allocating a portion of the student activity fund to address these issues, including…”

you launched into your carefully prepared presentation, citing statistics, outlining potential solutions, and emphasizing the positive impact on student morale and hygiene. you even threw in a joke about the legendary bathroom graffiti, hoping for a bit of levity.

it didn’t land.

minji cleared her throat. “while i appreciate (y/n)’s... enthusiasm, i have several concerns. Firstly, the survey data, while perhaps indicative of some dissatisfaction, doesn’t quantify the severity of the problem. are the bathrooms truly unusable, or are students simply being… overly sensitive?”

a murmur rippled through the room. you clenched your fists, trying to keep your expression neutral. “the survey included open–ended responses, which clearly illustrate the extent of the problem. students have reported…”

minji cut you off, her voice dripping with condescension. “anecdotal evidence is hardly conclusive, (y/n). furthermore, allocating funds to bathroom renovations, however noble, is ultimately a short–sighted solution. wouldn’t that money be better spent on, say, academic resources or advanced technology programs? we need to prioritize initiatives that directly impact academic performance, not… superficial comforts.”

you felt your face flush. “hygiene isn’t a 'superficial comfort,' minji. it’s a basic necessity! and a cleaner environment can actually improve focus and concentration, which in turn can positively impact academic performance.”

the debate spiraled. you argued about the practicality of long–term solutions versus immediate needs. minji countered with arguments about fiscal responsibility and the importance of maintaining the school’s academic reputation. it was a dance you’d performed countless times before, a predictable and infuriating ballet of opposing ideologies.

the truth was, this wasn’t just about bathrooms or budget allocations. it was about power. it was about minji’s need to be right, to be seen as the smartest, the most capable, the most… everything.

your history with minji stretched back to freshman year. you’d both joined the debate club, brimming with naive enthusiasm and a shared love of intellectual sparring. but somewhere along the line, competition had curdled into something… else. minji seemed to resent your presence, your ideas, even your popularity. she saw you as a threat, a rival for the spotlight.

you remembered one particularly stinging incident during the regional debate competition. you’d delivered a closing argument that had earned a standing ovation. minji, who had debated before you, was noticeably frosty afterward. later that evening, you overheard her telling another debater that your argument was “emotionally manipulative” and “lacking in substantive evidence.”

the conversation still stung, festering like an unhealed wound.

the bathroom debate eventually petered out in a stalemate. you knew you hadn’t convinced minji, and she hadn’t convinced you. the vote was postponed until the next meeting, a tactic she often used to delay or bury ideas she didn’t like.

next up was your proposal to expand the school's extracurricular offerings. you suggested starting a photography club, a creative writing workshop, and even a dungeons & dragons club, based on student interest surveys. you emphasized the importance of providing students with opportunities to explore their passions and connect with like–minded individuals.

“while i appreciate (y/n)s… creativity.” minji began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “i question the practicality of these proposals. are we truly lacking in extracurricular activities? we already have a debate club, a math club, a science club… do we really need a dungeons & dragons club?”

a few students snickered. you bristled. “those existing clubs cater to specific interests. my proposal aims to provide options for students who don’t necessarily fit into those categories. not everyone wants to debate or solve equations. some people want to create art, write stories, or… yes, explore fantastical worlds.”

minji raised an eyebrow. “and how do you propose funding these… frivolous pursuits? we already struggle to maintain funding for essential programs. are we going to divert resources from academic clubs to support activities that have little to no educational value?”

“that’s not true!” you retorted, your voice rising. “extracurricular activities can foster creativity, critical thinking, and teamwork skills. they can also provide students with a sense of belonging and purpose, which can improve their overall well–being and academic performance.”

“perhaps.” minji conceded, her tone dismissive. “but i remain unconvinced that these specific proposals are the best use of our limited resources. a dungeons & dragons club? really, (y/n)?”

the snickering intensified. you felt your cheeks burning with humiliation. it wasn’t just the rejection of your ideas. it was the deliberate way minji was trying to undermine you, to make you look foolish.

you knew you couldn’t let her win. you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm. “minji, i understand your concerns about funding and prioritization. but i believe that these proposals deserve a fair hearing. i’m willing to work with you to explore alternative funding sources, such as fundraising events or partnerships with local businesses. and i’m confident that we can find a way to make these clubs sustainable and beneficial for our students.”

you looked directly at her, your eyes locking. “i’m not trying to undermine the existing programs, minji. i’m trying to create opportunities for more students to get involved and feel connected to our school community. isn’t that what the student council is supposed to be about?”

a flicker of something – perhaps surprise, perhaps annoyance – crossed minji’s face. for a moment, she seemed genuinely unsettled. then, she quickly regained her composure.

“of course.” she said, her voice cool and controlled. “i simply believe that we need to approach these proposals with a more… critical eye. we need to ensure that we're making responsible decisions that align with the school’s overall mission.”

she smiled, a practiced, polished smile that didn't reach her eyes. “but i appreciate your… passion, (y/n). we can certainly discuss this further at our next meeting.”

grabbing your backpack from the floor, you get up from your seat and leave the room. the slam of the door echoes behind you, a final, defiant punctuation mark on your simmering frustration. you practically feel the heat radiating off your face as you stalk down the sterile hallway, the linoleum a blur under your feet.

minji. just the name is enough to send a fresh wave of frustration crashing over you. President. she lords it over everyone, that title seemingly cemented to her forehead with superglue and arrogance. you knew she was sharp, intimidating even, but the position had amplified it, turning her into a veritable ice queen, ruling with an iron fist disguised as detached logic.

your ideas, again, dismissed. yasually brushed aside with a dismissive wave of her hand and a condescending, “that’s not feasible, you should realize that.” you’re tired of it. tired of the criticisms, the lack of constructive contribution, the sheer, infuriating smugness that clings to her like expensive perfume. it felt like she was deliberately targeting you, singling you out for her brand of cold, intellectual dissection.

it’s never constructive criticism, never an offer of a better solution, just pure, unadulterated dismissal. and the worst part? no one else seems to notice. they all just nod along, cowed by her supposed “seriousness and intelligence.” you suspect it’s more fear than respect, but you’re the only one who seems willing to acknowledge the elephant in the room – or rather, the ice queen sitting at the head of the table.

the student body had elected her out of respect, maybe even a little bit of fear. they saw her intelligence, her unwavering focus. they didn’t see the thinly veiled contempt that flashed in her eyes when anyone dared to disagree with her, the subtle power plays disguised as “efficient leadership.”

you shove open the door to the bathroom, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead a soundtrack to your building tension. your backpack hits the tiled floor with a dull thud, the sound momentarily satisfying in its abruptness. you stalk to the sink, your reflection staring back at you – flushed, angry, and frankly, defeated.

cold water rushes over your hands, and you splash it onto your face, hoping to shock some sense back into your throbbing head. you scrub roughly, trying to erase the image of minji’s icy face, her perpetually unimpressed expression. you need to calm down. you can’t let her get to you.

you take a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then slowly release it. better, but not enough. you repeat the process, trying to focus on the cool sensation of the water, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest.

“running away again? i thought you had so many brilliant ideas to share.”

her voice, smooth and laced with a mocking amusement, slices through the fragile calm you were trying to cultivate. you freeze, your hands still gripping the edge of the sink. you don’t even need to turn around to know she’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

you groan inwardly. of course. of course, she followed you. turning around slowly, you lean against the sink, arms crossed, trying to project a facade of calm you definitely don't feel.

“i wasn't running.” you retort, your voice sharper than you intended. you turn, meeting her gaze head-on. “i just needed a break from your… unique leadership style. the air in there was getting a little…stale.”

her lips curve into that infuriatingly subtle smirk. “stale? or perhaps you realized the brilliance of my…assessment of your proposals?”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “assessment? you mean your flat–out rejection of everything i suggest? is that what passes for leadership these days, minji? just tearing down other people’s ideas without offering anything constructive in return?”

her smirk widens slightly. “o sensitive. i merely offered constructive criticism.”

“constructive criticism?” you scoff. “all you do is tear down ideas. you never offer any solutions of your own.”

she takes a step closer, her gaze unwavering. you have to give her credit; she really knows how to intimidate people. “perhaps if your ideas were…viable, they wouldn't require such… assessment.”

“viable?” you scoff. “last week i suggested a school–wide volunteer day at the local animal shelter. viable enough? or what about a fundraising bake sale for new library books? too radical for you, minji?”

“those are… pedestrian.” she says the word like it’s a dirty thing. “we’re the student council, (y/n), not a bake sale committee. we should be focusing on initiatives that have a real impact, something that elevates the student body. not… fluffy nonsense.”

“fluffy nonsense?” you repeat, your voice rising. “helping animals and raising money for books is fluffy nonsense? what, pray tell, constitutes a ‘real impact’ in your world, minji? another policy proposal that no one reads? another pointless survey that gets ignored?”

“trategic planning.” she says coolly, ignoring your rising anger. “long-term vision. things that require actual intellect and foresight.”

“oh, i’m sorry.” you say, dripping with sarcasm. “i didn’t realize volunteering and helping the community were beneath your superior intellect. maybe you could enlighten me, minji. what brilliant, game-changing idea have you brought to the table lately? besides, of course, pointing out everything that’s wrong with everyone else’s suggestions.”

the smirk finally fades, replaced by a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. but she recovers quickly. “i’m focused on ensuring the council operates efficiently and effectively. that requires… critical thinking.”

“critical thinking isn’t the same as negativity, minji.” you retort. “it’s about identifying weaknesses and finding solutions, not just shooting everything down with a condescending smirk. you’re so busy playing judge and jury, you’re not actually contributing anything.”

“i contribute by ensuring the council doesn’t waste its time on frivolous pursuits.” she says, her voice hardening. “someone has to be the voice of reason.”

“reason?” you laugh, a short, sharp sound. “you think you’re the voice of reason? you’re the voice of 'no.' you’re the reason why nothing ever changes around here. you’re so afraid of anything that isn't perfect, you’re paralyzed. and you drag everyone else down with you.”

you can see the anger finally breaking through her carefully constructed facade. her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow. “you’re being disrespectful, (y/n).”

“am i?” you challenge, taking a step closer to her. “or am i just finally saying what everyone else is too afraid to? you got elected president because people were intimidated by you, not because they actually liked you or thought you were a good leader. they just didn’t want to cross you.”

“that’s not true.” she says, but the words lack conviction."

“isn’n it? look around, minji. no one challenges you. no one questions you. they just nod and agree, terrified of becoming your next target.

and you eat it up, don’t you? you thrive on it. you love the power.”

“you don’t understand.” she says, her voice lower now, almost a hiss. “you don’t understand the responsibility…”

“oh, i understand the responsibility,” you interrupt. “it’s about serving the student body, not ruling over them. it’s about fostering ideas, not crushing them. it’s about building something together, not tearing everything down to prove how smart you are.”

you pause, taking a deep breath to try and control your still-rising anger. it’s exhausting, this constant battle with her. “you know what, minji? i’m done. i’m done with the student council. I'm done with your negativity. i’m done wasting my time trying to make a difference in a place where the only thing that matters is your ego.”

you reach for your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. “you can have it, minji. you can have the presidency, the power, the endless meetings where nothing ever gets done. i’m going to go find something more worthwhile to do with my time. you know, you wouldn’t be half as insufferable if you actually used your supposed intellect for something other than belittling everyone else.”

the amusement vanishes from her face, replaced by a flicker of something you can’t quite decipher. anger? annoyance? or something else entirely?

“careful.” she warns, pushing herself away from the doorframe and taking a step towards you. “don’t confuse confidence for arrogance.”

“oh, i’m not confused.” you snap. “i know exactly what i’m seeing.”

you turn to leave, but stop at the door, looking back at her one last time. “maybe, just maybe, if you spent less time criticizing and more time actually contributing, you might actually accomplish something. but i wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“you think you know me so well, don’t you?” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

you look up at her, your heart pounding in your chest. her eyes are darker than usual, intense and unreadable. you swallow hard. “i think i know you well enough to know that you enjoy making everyone around you miserable.”

she lets out a soft, humorless laugh. “miserable? or perhaps… challenged?”

before you can retort, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against your cheek. the touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of her words. a jolt of electricity shoots through you, a strange mixture of surprise and… something else.

“you have no idea.” she murmurs, her gaze fixed on your lips.

and then, before you can process what’s happening, she leans in and kisses you.

your mind blanks. the world shrinks to the feel of her lips on yours, the warmth of her breath against your skin. it’s not a tentative, exploratory kiss, but a fierce, demanding claim. her mouth moves against yours with a hunger that takes you completely by surprise.

your initial reaction is shock, pure and unadulterated. this is minji, the ice queen, the epitome of composure and control. this can’t be happening. but then, something shifts. a warmth begins to spread through you, melting the anger and frustration, replacing it with a confusing rush of… desire?

her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, erasing the space between you. the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more insistent. her tongue slides against yours, and you gasp, a wave of heat washing over you.

you find yourself responding, your own arms instinctively rising to wrap around her neck. you close your eyes, abandoning yourself to the sensation. the cool tile beneath your feet, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, the lingering scent of soap – everything fades into the background, leaving only the feel of her mouth on yours, the frantic rhythm of your heartbeats.

there’s a desperation in her kiss, a raw vulnerability that you never would have expected from her. it’s as if she’s trying to communicate something beyond words, something hidden deep beneath her carefully constructed facade. and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, find yourself wanting to understand, wanting to unravel the layers of her complex personality.

the kiss goes on, a seemingly endless exploration. her hands move from your waist to your hair, tangling in the strands as she deepens the kiss, tilting your head back till you fear your neck will snap. you moan softly, the sound lost in the intimacy of the moment, and she seems to take it as encouragement, pressing closer, her body flush against yours.

you can taste the lingering traces of her earlier coffee, mixed in with something altogether more raw and intoxicating. her lips feel soft, yielding, despite the possessiveness of her hold. every nerve ending seems to be firing at once, your body humming with a strange, electric energy.

air becomes a precious commodity, your lungs screaming for relief, but you can't bring yourself to break away. the kiss is too consuming, too addictive. You want to lose yourself in it, to forget the arguments, the frustrations, the complexities of your relationship.

finally, gasping for breath, she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours. her eyes are still dark, dilated with desire, and her chest rises and falls rapidly.

"i..." she starts, her voice raspy, then stops, as though she's unsure what to say.

you stare at her, your own heart pounding in your chest, your thoughts a jumbled mess. the kiss has shattered your carefully constructed defenses, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

she searches your eyes, her expression unreadable for a long moment before breaking into a nervous smile. “you really do get under my skin, y'know?”

she pushed open the heavy bathroom door and dragged you inside, immediately pulling you into the last stall and locking the door behind you. the small space was dimly lit and smelled faintly of cleaning products and a lingering scent of cigarette smoke.

minji pinned you against the wall, her hands gripping your hips as she pressed her body against yours. she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear.

“god, you’re so fucking hot.” she breathed, nipping at your earlobe. “i’ve wanted to get my hands on you for so long.”

one hand slid up your side, brushing over your breast before gripping the back of your neck possessively. the other hand gripped your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. “tell me what you want, (y/n).” she growled softly, her dark eyes glinting with lust. “tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“we shouldn't do that here, minji. i don’t want to get in trouble and–”

“shut up.”

minji’s hand slid under your shirt, her fingers trailing up your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your neck as she inhaled deeply.

“you’re so beautiful.” she murmured, her hot breath tickling your skin. her hand reached the nape of your neck, gripping your hair and tugging your head back gently to expose more of your throat to her eager mouth.

minji’s lips attacked your neck, kissing and sucking on your sensitive skin. she bit down gently on your pulse point before soothing the sting with her tongue. her other hand slid down to the hem of your skirt, slipping underneath to caress your inner thigh.

“i want to taste every inch of you.” she breathed against your skin, her voice low and husky with desire. “i want to make you scream my name until the whole school knows who you belong to.”

she gripped your thigh tighter, her fingers digging into your soft skin as she pressed her body even closer to yours. you could feel the heat radiating off her, the hard lines of her toned body pushing against your curves.

minji’s hand slid higher up your thigh, her fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. she rubbed you through the thin material, feeling the warmth emanating from your core.

“fuck, you’re already so wet.” she groaned, her voice dripping with lust. “you want this just as badly as i do, don’t you (y/n)? you want me to fuck you hard and raw right here where anyone could catch us.”

minji smirked wickedly as she felt you tremble beneath her touch, your body responding eagerly to her skilled ministrations. she was aware of the effect her unfiltered dirty words had on you, it was to be expected that you would be surprised and speechless when a person who is always serious and professional suddenly acts this way with you, and minji definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to humiliate you in other ways.

she hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties, playfully pulling on the elastic and teasing you a little, enough that your hips involuntarily buck against minji’s hand in protest of her stopping her teasing. “god, look at this pretty pussy… i bet it tastes as good as it looks.” she purred, her finger teasing your slick folds, feeling your wetness coats her skin.

minji dropped to her knees in front of you, pushing your skirt up around your waist. she looked up at you with a devilish grin before leaning in and dragging the flat of her tongue along your slit in one long, slow lick. “mmh, fuck yes.” she groaned, the vibrations of her voice sending shockwaves through your core. “you taste even better than i imagined. and believe me, you’ve been on my mind for a long time.”

minji licked and sucked at your sensitive flesh like a woman starved, her tongue delving deep between your folds to taste every drop of your arousal. she focused on your clit, flicking the hardened nub with the tip of her tongue before sucking it between her lips, applying just the right amount of pressure.

her hands gripped your ass, pulling you harder against her face as she ate you out with wild abandon. she could feel your thighs trembling and your breathing growing ragged, knowing she had you right on the edge.

she pulled back briefly, looking up at you with a wicked smirk. “come on, (y/n). don’t hold back. i want to feel your pussy clench around my tongue as you cum on my face. i want you to soak me with your juices until i’m dripping wet.”

with that, she dove back in, attacking your clit with fervor as two fingers plunged deep inside your tight channel. she pumped them in and out, curling them to hit that special spot inside you with every thrust.

minji could feel your walls fluttering around her invading fingers, knowing you were close. she doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she fingered you faster and deeper, determined to make you come undone.

“that’s it, baby.” she encouraged, her voice muffled against your pussy. “cum for me. i want to feel this tight little cunt spasm around my fingers as you scream my name.”

“fuck minji– i can’t–”

minji looked up at you, her eyes dark and wild with lust. she smirked wickedly at your concern. “let them hear.” she growled, the words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “i want the whole fucking school to know what a dirty slut you are, getting eaten out in the bathroom like a cheap whore.”

she punctuated her words by plunging three fingers deep inside you, pumping them harder and faster, her palm slapping lewdly against your clit with each thrust. her other hand gripped your ass, pulling you harder against her face, not letting you escape the intense pleasure.

“don’t hold back, (y/n). i want to hear you scream. i want you to be loud enough for them to hear you all the way down the hall. let them know who this pussy belongs to now.” she demanded, her voice rough with desire.

minji attacked your clit with renewed fervor, sucking and biting the sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing you ruthlessly towards your peak. her fingers curled inside you, stroking your g–spot, determined to make you cum harder than you ever had before.

minji could feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your orgasm approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit and pumping her fingers as fast and deep as she could, wanting to push you over the edge.

“that’s it, babe. cum on my fingers like the desperate little slut you are.” she growled, her voice dripping with lust and dominance. “i want to feel your cunt spasm and clench around me as you fucking soak my hand. give it to me, baby. give me that.”

she nipped at your clit, sending a shock of pained pleasure through you that finally tipped you over into ecstasy. your walls clamped down hard on her fingers as your orgasm crashed over you, your juices gushing out and coating her hand and wrist.

“yes, fuck yes! that’s it, scream for me (y/n)” minji cried out in triumph as she felt your pussy spasm and quake around her fingers, your body shaking with the force of your climax.

she worked you through it, her fingers slowing their movements but not stopping, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible. finally, as your body went limp, she pulled her fingers out of you and stood up.

minji brought her glistening, soaked fingers up to her mouth and sucked them clean, her eyes never leaving yours. “mmmh, you taste fucking incredible.” she purred, licking her lips. “i could get addicted to this pussy.”

minji grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the stall, straightening your skirt and hair as she led you to the sink. she turned on the faucet, running her fingers under the cool water and rinsing the evidence of your encounter down the drain.

as you both washed your hands, minji smirked at your reflection in the mirror, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hint of something more sinister.

“not bad for a quickie in the bathroom, huh?” she said with a wicked grin, turning to face you. “but don’t think we’re done, love. that was just a little taste of what i can do. i’m not nearly finished with this sexy body yet.”

she stepped closer to you, backing you up against the counter. one hand slid around your waist, pulling your body flush against hers, while the other hand cupped your face, tilting it towards hers.

“come to my dorm after the debate. i have to make it up to you for my shitty attitude.”

[samaahhsh]

IT GIRL GUIDES

What does it mean to be an IT girl? For me it's to have a balance between all the aspects of your life, to do everything you're interested in without burning yourself out and to be effortlessly elegant, calm and, composed. My idea of an IT girl is a person who's social, sporty, smart, with an artistic side to them, a person who has a sense of identity in who they are. How can one achieve all of these? Well that's exactly what I'll be explaining in this post!

1. MASTERING SOCIAL INTERACTIONS

One thing that I've noticed about all IT girls is that they're never afraid to go up to someone and strike up a conversation. They don't have that fear of being 'awkward' or being perceived as 'weird'. So, the next time you want to be friends with someone or get a conversation started, just do it. Compliment their outfit, talk about a book they're reading , talk about the weather or the traffic or whatever you want to talk about. Keep in mind that building your social skills also involves being a good listener so instead of making the conversation all about you, just take a moment to listen to the other person as well. It's crazy how many people miss out on so many great, life changing experiences they could have had just because they were afraid to make the first move.

2. FINDING YOUR SPORT

Engaging in a sport is great for your physical and mental health + it gets your body fit and strong. Step 1: Try out a bunch of different sports and choose one that fits you best. I recommend choosing one or two because more than that can lead to you struggling to balance it all but definitely go for it if you're confident that you'll be able to do it. Step 2: Practice, Practice, Practice. Be consistent in your sport and practice regularly. Take breaks when needed in order to avoid injury and most importantly, just go with the flow. Don't get so worked up about perfecting or mastering anything right now, remember, we're learning right now. Step 3: Once you get pretty good at it, enroll in competitions, tournaments, etc. as they can be a great way to assess what level you are at and what you can improve. Although you may face a few failures, it'll be fine as long as you take them as lessons and choose a better perspective.

3.EXCELING ACADEMICALLY

Listen, I'm not good at academics at all and I'm pretty average myself so the tips that I give doesn't necessarily have to work for everyone. The first and most crucial step in exceling in academics is to practice time management. Allocate different times for when you're gonna study each subject and work on each task. Next is to revise through whatever you learned to help you solidify information in long-term memory. Pay attention when the teacher is teaching and always, always, always clear you doubts in class instead of keeping it for later. Along with this, staying organized and finding a study group can further enhance your approach and offer a different perspective. It's also important to keep in mind that too much studying can cause burnouts and other undesired things so make sure you have a balanced lifestyle to avoid that.

4. CULTIVATING YOUR ARTISTIC SIDE

There's nothing more sophisticated than being a person who has a taste for and can also execute an art skill. Art can be of various forms, it could be form of dance, a musical instrument, a persons ability to capture something on a page through drawing or painting, etc. Developing and learning an art is not an easy feat and requires dedication and consistency. One needs to be willing to experiment with different types of Art to find one that suits them and once they do, tremendous practice is needed to become good at it. But let me tell you it's all worth it, knowing that you're good at something that you're interested in and working on it. It's also a proud feeling to tell someone that you practice an art. A few key things to keep in mind are to go at your own pace and just enjoy the process, rushing yourself could burn you out and I personally found it hard to go back from that phase.

I hope that these tips can help you become the person you want to be and the best version of yourself. If I need to clarify myself at any point, just let me know. <3

@samaahhsh

[vincentspork]

Well we can't allocate any of the government budget on Healthcare or lowering food prices or assisting the elderly or single mothers or guaranteeing children's lunches at school or strengthening education or paying teachers or paying reparations to Black citizens or fixing any of the structural issues with reservations or fixing the crumbling infrastructure or any of that but we can set aside 7 trillion dollars for another forever war and you're welcome

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Dance with Me

Part 3

Featuring: Taiga | Romeo | Ritsu

Taiga Hoshibami - You were hanging out in the casino of Sinostra, there to be your boyfriend's 'good luck charm' as he liked to call you.

You were bored, though. You didn't mind the excuse to sit on his lap and nap normally, but today, you just wanted to do something fun.

"Taiga, I'm bored. Can't we go do something." You whined softly to him once he won his latest hand.

"We are doing something, Kitty Cat. You're watching me win gyahaha"

You pouted, "I meant something fun, like a date or dancing!" You huffed. He looked at you and raised a brow as a grin broke out across his features.

"Kitty Cat wants to dance huh?"

"Yes, dancing would be fun."

"I'm bored of winning anyways, let's go dance then Kitty" He stood up, and you yelped, clinging to him as he easily manouvered you to carry you in his arms.

He brought you up to his room before setting you down. You wasted no time quickly setting up a song to dance to, not wanting Taiga to lose interest before you even got to see what he danced like.

When the music started, he pulled you close, and, to your complete shock and surprise, he was a really good dancer. Far better than you thought he'd be, and better than you were. He laughed softly anytime you faltered a bit.

When the song ended, he pulled you into a spin before dipping you. He grinned down at you as your face blushed darkly.

"How was that for fun, Kitty?"

Romeo Lucci - You were working in the VIP lounge, monitoring the cameras for your boyfriend while he handled other matters.

Though, you felt like you were starting to go cross eyed from watching the screens and leaned back, looking away from them to give yourself a break.

You looked over to Romeo and watched him for a moment, observing the graceful way he moved even when yelling at someone over the phone. A thought came to you then, and you voiced your question without thinking.

"Romeo? Do you know how to dance?" You asked once he'd hung up his phone. He snapped his head over to look at you.

"What are you babbling about BB?" He huffed. He took a deep breath to calm himself before responding again. "Yes, I know how to dance. Why?"

"Could you teach me?" You pleaded. You wanted to do something fun, and something to get away from staring at screens all day. He frowned.

"I'm FTBTD"

You stared at him for a moment, silently trying to piece together this latest acronym.

"Far to beautiful to dance?" You guessed. You knew he meant busy, but you were hopeful that if you played into his pride, he'd give in.

He gave you a withering look before he sighed. "Fine, one dance." He always did give in to you.

He picked a song and let it start playing before he guided you into the steps. He was, for all his usual short temperment, a fairly patient teacher. He'd calmly correct you, only yelling if you managed to step on his feet one too many times and scuffing his shoes.

When the song ended, he pulled you through an elegant twirl into his arms. "Happy now?" He asked, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

You beamed at him "Very."

Ritsu Shinjo - Bored. Bored, bored, bored. You sighed and slouched in your seat a bit before glancing at Ritsu and straightening your posture.

You were meant to be studying in your room with him, but you just couldn't focus anymore. You were endlessly bored and wanted to do something interesting.

"That's the fifth time you've sighed in the last 20 minutes. Are you okay? Is the material too hard, or would you rather we allocate this time to something more suited to your current mood?" Ritsu asked, as usual, being able to read you like a book.

"I'm just so bored. I can't focus on these words anymore, and I want to do something fun."

Ritsu nodded and closed his book, turning his full attention towards you. "What would be more fun for you then?"

You shrugged, before thinking of an idea that made you grin, "How about dancing?"

"I was unaware dancing was a passtime for you...I'll have to update my files.."

"It's not really, I just think it'd be fun for us to dance together." You admitted, watching as a faint blush rose up on his cheeks.

"You wish to dance with me?" He asked. "Then I won't disappoint you, though dancing is perhaps a skill I lack in."

"That's okay, I'm not the best either, but it's more about having fun than being good."

So you set up some music, cleared away some space, and took Ritsu's hand as he offered it to you.

He definitely wasn't going to win any dance contests, but that was okay because you were having fun. You guided him through the steps and both just making up some when neither of you knew the moves.

When the dance ended, Ritsu hestitantly let go of you. "That was quite fun. Perhaps we should schedule time to do something like this again. That way we can both improve as well."

You smiled and kissed him. "I'd love that."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tag list: @cloudcountry @ventisimpilysm

Wanna be added or removed? Let me know!

[til-all-are-loved]

{This Charming Man Part Three}

MTMTE Megatron x Reader

SFW

Part one Here

Part two Here

Dropping the bullet format from now on. I regained my writing confidence.

--

Two weeks had passed, and you were beginning to think Megatron’s late-night visit had been a one-off oddity. He hadn’t sought you out since, and apart from a faint nod in the hallways—a gesture that left you wondering if you’d imagined it—everything seemed to return to normal.

That is, until the next leadership debriefing.

You arrived early, as usual, settling into your customary corner with your datapad. Rodimus was already there, sprawled in his chair like he owned the room (which, in fairness, he sort of did). Magnus was reviewing the agenda, his expression as rigid as his frame. Megatron entered last, his presence hawkish, though this time he glanced at you briefly as he sat down.

The meeting began uneventfully, dominated by the usual back-and-forth between Rodimus and Ultra Magnus. You dutifully took notes, tuning out the more repetitive points—until Megatron’s voice cut through the noise.

"Ambassador," he said, the word sharp and deliberate.

Your head snapped up. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at you.

"Y-Yes?" you managed, cursing the wobble in your voice.

"What is your input on this?" He gestured toward the holographic display, which was currently projecting several spreadsheets of shift schedules and statistics “Would you consider this approach... practical?”

You blinked, quickly scanning the notes you’d been half-ignoring. It was a logistics issue—something about the allocation of resources to working crewmembers. Hardly your area of expertise—this was a mind game meant to catch you off guard.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to—”

“You should know this.” Megatron interrupted sharply, his tone making it clear that this wasn’t a suggestion. He came off like a teacher who had just caught a student distracted.

You swallowed, your hands clammy and face hot, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “Well... if I’m honest, it seems like you’re prioritizing efficiency over flexibility. Which makes sense if operations on the ship continue perfectly, but since unexpected situations are bound to happen around here- these shift schedules should be a bit more lenient. It would help morale aswell...”

The silence stretched. Rodimus raised an eye ridge, clearly entertained, while Magnus’s expression didn’t shift an inch. Megatron, however, nodded slowly, his optics narrowing in what you hoped was approval.

“An insightful observation,” he said finally. “One worth considering.”

Rodimus snorted. “Since when do you listen to organics?”

Megatron shot him a look that could have melted steel. “Since they’ve proven themselves more capable of rational thought than certain co-captains.”

Rodimus opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, muttering something about “walking tanks with superiority complexes.”

The rest of the meeting proceeded without incident, though you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the room’s dynamic. Megatron addressed you twice more, each time with the same deliberate tone, and by the end of the debriefing, you felt less like a fly on the wall and more like an active participant.

When the meeting adjourned, the crew began to filter out, but Megatron lingered, standing near the holographic display as though lost in thought. You hesitated, unsure whether to leave or stay.

“Ambassador,” he said without turning around.

You froze. “Yes, Captain?”

He turned, his optics locking onto yours with that same piercing intensity. “Your input today was... appreciated.”

You blinked, startled. “Oh. Um, thank you.”

A flicker of something—satisfaction?—crossed his face before his expression returned to its usual stoicism. “That will be all.”

You nodded quickly, making your way to the door. As you stepped into the corridor, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted again, another piece falling into place in this strange, tentative connection between you and the former warlord.

And this time, it wasn’t just in your head.

--

Your quarters aboard the Lost Light were a modest affair: a desk cluttered with datapads, a chair that wobbled slightly no matter how you adjusted it, and a small viewport that overlooked the endless expanse of stars. You were lucky to even have been placed in a proper suite to yourself. You had originally been assigned to live in a storage locker, but Magnus made an ethics plea to get you in a hab-suite. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, a tiny refuge in the chaos of the ship

Tonight, however, it felt like anything but.

You sat at the desk, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. The report you were supposed to write—your monthly update to Earth—remained stubbornly unwritten, a yawning blankness where there should have been paragraphs detailing Megatron’s behavior, the state of the crew, and any noteworthy developments.

Your fingers hovered over the keys.

"Captain Megatron continues to demonstrate a notable shift from his Decepticon past..."

You frowned, deleting the sentence almost as soon as you typed it.

The truth was, describing Megatron in clinical, detached terms was difficult this night. In the beginning, it had been easy. He’d been distant, cold, and indifferent to your presence. A warlord trying to wear the mask of an Autobot. You could observe him like a scientist studying a volatile specimen.

But now...

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples.

Now, he wasn’t just a subject of observation. He was a puzzle—a maddeningly complex one—and you couldn’t seem to stop turning the pieces over in your mind. His grudging respect for you during meetings, the way he seemed to seek your input without ever outright admitting it...

And then there was the visit to your quarters.

The memory made your stomach flip, and you pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the screen in front of you.

"While tensions remain between Captain Megatron and certain members of the crew, his leadership continues to stabilize..."

You stopped again, staring at the words. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it? Yes, there were tensions, but they weren’t the focus anymore—not for you. What you really wanted to write about, though you’d never admit it aloud, was how those rare glimpses of humanity (or whatever the Cybertronian equivalent was) had started to intrigue you.

No, intrigue wasn’t the right word. It was a blossoming fixation.

You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. If you were honest with yourself—which you were trying not to be—you didn’t just want to observe Megatron anymore. You wanted to know him. To understand the contradictions in him, the weight he carried, and why he seemed to value your opinion despite the vast gulf between your worlds.

You wanted to spend more time with him.

The realization hit you with the subtlety of a collapsing bulkhead. You stared at the screen, your cheeks growing warm.

This was bad. Really bad.

How were you supposed to write an objective report when your feelings—because that’s what they were, weren’t they?—were starting to get in the way?

You tapped out another sentence.

"Megatron continues to exhibit behavior that suggests a growing interest in cultural exchange, particularly with regard to human literature..."

It was true, technically. And it was safe enough to include without giving too much away.

You leaned back again, staring at the cursor blinking on the half-finished report.

What would Earth make of this, you wondered? If they knew how much your perspective had shifted—how much you’d come to see Megatron not as an assignment, not even as a captain, but as...

You closed your eyes tightly.

A crush?

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning. Of course it would come to this. The awkward glances, the fleeting scraps of attention he spared for you, the strange pull of his authority—it all felt like something plucked from an ill-advised daydream. A ridiculous fantasy.

And yet it didn’t feel ridiculous, not when you were alone with your thoughts.

Your hands fell to the desk as your gaze wandered. What did you really know about him, after all? His crimes were well-documented, spread across countless files and testimony. The betrayals, the thirst for power, lives destroyed in his pursuit of revolution—they painted a picture of someone you should despise. Someone you shouldn’t even entertain these feelings about.

But people could change, couldn’t they? He had made the choice to change, after millions of years of warfare and unthinkable consequences. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

You sighed and closed your laptop with a firm snap, pushing it away as if that might also shove aside the thoughts clawing at your mind.

"This is tomorrow’s problem," you muttered to yourself.

But even as you crawled into bed, filthy shame twisted tightly around your chest, refusing to let go. You tossed and turned, willing the gnawing thoughts to stop, willing sleep to take you.

It didn’t come easily. It didn’t come at all.

[sarotati]

Hello,can I request Cheong Myeong x disciple reader?.. Platonic teacher - disciple or father - child/daughter/son relationship.

Cheong Myeong, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, is currently Qirah's master in Mount Hua Sect, also known as the world's top strongest swordsman. A lot may think that this idiosyncratic individual is simply meretricious, yet Cheong Myeong has warded away, eradicated evil and unknowingly assisted the sect grow into the largest and most powerful sect within the cultivation world.

Nonetheless for the beginning, since reader is the first disciple he's ever taken in, he decides to be nice to the reader initially. It won't be long until he starts training the reader like a wild boar with those gruelling ways of becoming one with the longsword, though...(The reader doesn't mind in charge of the reader will prank his/her master back 🤣)..

For mere convenience, both of you were allocated to live in the same residence, compartmentalised into two sections by a bamboo screen. The reader always tries to sneak attack on him as the reader tries to defeat him 😂.. The reader will use everything like trap, prank,etc... Also the reader always uses Cheong Myeong or Tang Bo to pay for him/her🤣.. And s/he always wake up Cheong Myeong with creepy way like s/he will stare at him and then smile widely ' good morning master'

But when the reader always writes diaries and books so the books, draw books and diaries will begin to be read by Cheong Myeong 100 years later.(Also the letters after Cheong Myeong left for the war)

The reader's death because s/he sacrificed her/himself to protect the children in Hua Mount Sect and s/he will get title for her/himself because if that..

But let's put some little bits,that s/he left some gifts for her/his master for Cheong Myeong's birthday but only he get 100th years later..Her/his last words was hope Cheong Myeong proud of her/him..S/he die with smile..The ending is up to you..😭

A Void That Can't Be Filled

[Chung Myung x Reader]

Summary: Chung Myung facing the difficulties of being a mentor.

WC: 6.7K

Contains: platonic relationship, implied death, strong language, idk how to put trigger warnings.

A/N: I honestly thought of making the reader a male but then I was afraid it could be hard to write it because of the pronounces and— y'know what, who am I fooling? I'm just biased to writing female characters.

Enjoy~

✦

The cottony white clouds danced, brushing against the towering mountain peaks.

The sun rose, illuminating every corner of the sect, as though it was saturating the walls and floors with the warm, golden scent of its rays.

Some parts were quiet, while elsewhere, the sound of swords slicing the air rhythmically filled the atmosphere, creating a subtle, refined contrast.

Except perhaps for one room…

“Thayung, wo taaked 'bout dis!”

“Swallow your food first, Chung Myung-ah.”

The older man rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

This man still behaved like a child who had never received the most basic lessons in manners—despite already being seventy-two years old.

Chung Myung swallowed his mooncakes without delay and spoke again, an incredulous expression on his face.

“I thought Sahyung said I’m not qualified to take in disciples??”

“Well, I still think that…”

“...??”

Chung Myung looked at his Sahyung in confusion—and perhaps with a hint of betrayal. Sure, this was what he wanted, he didn’t want the responsibility. But it still hurt seeing Chung Mun look at him like he was a hopeless cause!

“The thing is…”

Chung Mun spoke slowly and steadily, although his expression carried a faint trace of anxiety and helplessness.

“Do you remember the little girl you brought to the sect?”

“Girl??”

“A few weeks ago, you said you beat up some slave traders.”

“Ohh!”

Chung Myung nodded with a smile as if he’d finally remembered—but quickly frowned in confusion.

“D–Don’t tell me…”

“Ahem…”

Chung Mun nodded with regret.

—

A few days ago, Chung Myung had beaten up some despicable slave traders along the banks of the Yangtze River. He’d coincidentally rescued a little child.

She looked to be around six years old, and Chung Myung had no idea where he was supposed to take her.

So… he did what any reasonable person would do in his place.

“Sahyung, who’s this?”

Chung Jin dropped the martial arts manuals from his hands and hurried toward Chung Myung, eyes fixed on the scratched-up girl in his arms.

They had taken her to the medical hall, and thankfully, it turned out she had no serious injuries.

Later, Chung Myung heard that the girl had recovered well and that the sect would care for her until she grew up and decided what to do with her life.

Then he was told she had shown remarkable talent with swords and an impressive passion. She decided to join the sect and began taking extra lessons to catch up with the other disciples—who were already barely keeping up.

That was the last he heard… until that conversation in Chung Mun’s residence.

“I don’t want to!”

“But Samae… Elder-nim is—”

The poor disciple dealing with the tantrum could barely handle the girl who was throwing a fit at anyone who tried to go against her. She kicked and punched at anyone who came close to calm her down.

“I said no means no!! I want that cool uncle to train me! He beat up those gross men so easily—I have to learn that!”

—

Chung Mun’s eyes narrowed and his eyelids twitched as he saw Chung Myung’s shoulders rise ever so slightly—clearly trying very hard to suppress the corners of his mouth from twitching upward.

“Ahem, kekeke… I suppose there’s not much to be done if the kid is… ahem... that determined.”

Chung Myung scratched his nose and cleared his throat, pretending the whole situation didn’t faze him at all.

“So…?”

Chung Myung straightened in his seat across from Chung Mun, speaking in a tone that was almost serious—but not quite heavy.

“Eh, I guess I’ll give it a shot, Sect Leader Sahyung!”

Seeing the playful, overly cheerful expression on Chung Myung’s face, only one thought crossed Chung Mun’s mind…

‘This is already a terrible idea…’

But it was already too late.

Chung Myung’s pink eyes wandered curiously to the tiny figure standing in front of him.

She was so small, even though he’d heard she was eight. Was he just that tall? Something had to be wrong if she had to crane her neck that much just to look at him.

Chung Myung held back a giggle and cleared his throat. She was his first disciple, after all—and she clearly admired his strength deeply. Even he knew it would be cruel to laugh when this was such a serious matter for her.

“Master!”

His train of thought was cut off. Chung Myung looked down to see the girl holding a short wooden sword tightly.

“Teach me how to smash those motherfucking bastards’ heads like you did!”

“Pffft—!”

“….”

Chung Myung turned his face away, trying to suppress his laughter… It was hard to take her seriously when she acted so seriously—while looking so cute.

In the background, Chung Mun tilted his head, wondering where the kid had picked up those curses and aggressive behavior. After all, she had only seen Chung Myung for a short while…

…

A vein throbbed on Chung Mun’s forehead, and he sighed, clenching his fist in frustration. Yes, even that short time was more than enough—especially if it involved beating pirates to within an inch of their lives.

“CHUNG MYUNG-AH!!!”

—

Gulp gulp gulp

“Kwah!”

Chung Myung wiped his lips with his sleeve and continued watching the little girl swing her sword in front of him.

He’d taught her a few basic drills—the kind they learned as children. He had to hold in his laughter again when she gave him that angry face. Then he explained why she needed to practice the Six Equilibrium and how it would help her destroy villains.

Normally, Chung Myung didn’t like explaining things. Mostly because it was boring—but also because bratty kids never understood what he said and would keep asking questions until he beat them. So really, he was doing them a favor by smacking them in advance before they wore out their vocal cords.

Though the girl didn’t fully understand his explanation, her angry face slowly relaxed into a thoughtful frown, and she nodded. She didn’t get the reason—but at least she knew there was one.

And since this new brat wasn’t as annoying as the others had been, maybe Chung Myung would be nice and not kick her out at lightning speed.

Thud!

Chung Myung looked at the girl who had fallen to the ground again, sighed in mild annoyance, and waited for the tears.

She sniffled, but quickly wiped her eyes and got back up. She dusted off her clothes with her tiny hands.

Chung Myung let out a relieved sigh.

“That happened because you were swinging your sword with too much force for how unsteady your stance was.”

The little girl looked up at him immediately, slight confusion on her face as she looked at her feet.

Chung Myung sat up straight and set his alcohol jar aside. He was the type to let people make a mistake first so they’d ask the right questions—and only then would he give them the answer if they couldn’t figure it out.

“Do as I tell you.”

“Yes!”

She nodded with fierce determination and shouted. Chung Myung laughed at her overly serious expression and gestured for her to come closer so he could teach her the proper stance for sword swinging.

—

“Hey, Bo!”

Tang Bo jumped when his door was kicked open, barely catching the bag of herbs that nearly fell from his hands.

He looked toward the door in irritation—but his eyes widened when he saw Chung Myung walking toward him with a wide grin.

“Hyung? You didn’t say you were coming today—”

“Doesn’t matter. Look what I brought!”

Tang Bo had barely stood up when he dropped back into his chair, staring with confusion at the thing Chung Myung thrust right in front of his face.

‘A child…?’

A scowling one.

“Hyung-nim, whose child did you kidnap?”

Tang Bo asked nervously, glancing at the little girl staring straight into his soul as if she were ready to attack. Could he blame her? Chung Myung had probably been carrying her like a bottle of wine or a sword the whole way here.

“Tsk, what are you talking about? Do you think I’d kidnap a kid?!”

“Well…”

In some ways, Chung Myung didn’t even like being around children. And no matter what, he at least had enough common sense not to commit kidnapping… or so Tang Bo liked to believe.

As Tang Bo struggled for words, Chung Myung felt the urge to hit him. But for some reason—perhaps out of a sudden sense of responsibility—he decided not to.

“She’s my new disciple.”

“Ah, yes, of course she’s your disciple, hyung-nim… What else... Hyung…”

Tang Bo stopped nodding and stared at the man in front of him like he’d just grown a second head, his jaw slack.

“Disciple? You mean… like… officially…?”

“Of course officially! What else—”

Chung Myung shut his mouth when he saw Tang Bo look at the girl with the most pitiful expression in the world, as if to say, “You poor child… What did you do in a past life to end up in this bastard’s hands?”

To hell with maturity and responsibility. Chung Myung knocked his fist against Tang Bo’s head. The latter clutched his head and groaned in pain.

“Why?! It’s not like I’m wrong—Hyung doesn’t know how to deal with a kid!”

“Of course I do! What’s so hard about it?!”

Despite what Chung Myung said, Tang Bo’s overly dramatic gasp—as if he’d just cursed his ancestors—wavered his resolve. But somehow, he managed to keep a straight face.

~

“…And those are just the basics you need to know.”

Chung Myung stared blankly into space like a fish, trying to absorb everything he had just been told.

Meanwhile, his brand-new disciple was playing with Jopyung in the courtyard outside the Tang family’s forge.

Chung Myung never thought that children needed emotional support, to be listened to, given the freedom to express their thoughts, or have their feelings understood and minds considered—all that empty talk no one ever actually applied in real life.

What did it even mean to be "gentle yet firm" at the same time?? How could anyone combine two opposing traits simultaneously?

"This is nonsense."

"No, it's the basics."

Tang Bo shook his head in surrender. He knew this man thought of human children like deer that could stand on their own legs minutes after being born.

"So…"

He glanced again at Chung Myung, who was stroking his chin, seemingly trying to understand the matter, then looked back at Tang Bo in deep confusion.

"You mean I can’t hit a child like a dog to make it learn?"

"OF COURSE NOT—!!! Ow!"

Tang Bo clutched his head where he was hit. That was his mistake—of course he’d get punched if he shouted at Chung Myung, even if the latter had just said something that insane.

"Tsk, I swear you’re always spouting nonsense! How hard can it be to care for a single little kid?"

Yes…

Chung Myung had said that just a few hours ago.

"Aren’t you going to teach me?"

Chung Myung looked down at the little girl glaring up at him, her tiny fists clenched tightly around the wooden sword she hadn’t let go of since she was given it. For some reason, he could never quite take her seriously when she made that face.

"Tsk. Why are you in such a hurry? You’re already progressing well compared to the others your age."

Chung Myung walked past the little disciple, but she kept staring at him unblinkingly. She quickly ran after him and grabbed onto his leg.

"How am I supposed to beat up ten huge barrel-shaped bastards if I don’t train hard?! Teach me!"

"Tsk, cut it out, you little brat!"

Chung Myung shook his leg, but she didn’t budge an inch, so he ignored her and kept walking. Tang Bo looked between the two of them, clearly concerned, then sighed.

"Listen..."

The little girl looked at him curiously when he called her, and he gave her a perfect gentle smile.

"How about this uncle buys you some candy? You can train later—"

"Uncle Bo!"

Tang Bo shut his mouth when the girl pointed at him with fierce determination.

"Can you beat up ten bastards easily?!"

"Uh… I guess so."

"Then teach me!"

Chung Myung froze in his tracks. So did Tang Bo. The kid took her chance to release Chung Myung’s leg and stood in front of Tang Bo with an eager expression. Her tiny hand grabbed at the hem of his long sleeve.

"My lazy Master hasn’t taught me anything in three weeks! Can you teach me instead?"

Chung Myung slowly turned his head toward Tang Bo, wearing a threatening, menacing smile, but Tang Bo just returned a gentle one.

"Of course!"

"You bastard—!"

Tang Bo lifted the kid by her armpits and sprinted in the opposite direction. Chung Myung stared after him in shock, feeling utterly betrayed. He dashed after Tang Bo at full speed.

"Get back here, you kidnapper bastard!"

"No way, hyung-nim!"

Naturally, some of the passersby looked over in confusion, but all they saw flashing past were streaks of dark green and white.

~

On some rock, the little girl sat swinging her short legs while munching on rice cakes. Meanwhile, Tang Bo rubbed his swollen face.

"Tsk, why does hyung-nim always resort to violence?"

"It’s just easier to deal with you that way."

Tang Bo flinched and leaned back when Chung Myung raised his fist again, but the latter just clicked his tongue and turned his glare toward his disciple.

"And you! Asking someone else to train you—aren’t you ashamed of yourself?!"

The little girl looked at Chung Myung in surprise as he pointed an accusing finger at her, but her face quickly crumpled into an expression that even made Chung Myung take a step back.

When had anyone ever looked at him with such disapproval?

"I should say the same to Master! How irresponsible must he be for his only disciple to go ask someone else for guidance?"

"You filthy little piece of shhhhi—"

"Hyung!"

Tang Bo barely managed to grab his friend before he lunged at the child, who was now chewing her rice cakes with a bit too much force.

Let's mention, Chung Myung remembered those words even after they returned to Mount Hua.

The next plan was to train her so hard she’d beg never to hear the word "training" again in her entire life.

Everything went just as he had planned—waking up at dawn and engaging in intensive drills no child of eight should ever do… well, without neglecting the fundamentals, of course.

Climbing steep slopes, lifting weights, swinging sandbag-tied swords, squats, pushups, running, and, and, and…

Without fail, the little girl would collapse in exhaustion after every session—sometimes even before it was over. She’d complain of pain and couldn’t stand on her frail legs.

Chung Mun almost scolded him several times after hearing this—but he didn’t.

Why?

Ha ha...

"Master! What do you think about some extra training??"

Chung Myung didn’t know whether to feel happy or horrified. On one hand, Chung Mun had nothing to say—clearly no one was forcing her to do anything.

On the other hand, this was not the result Chung Myung had been aiming for.

She just seemed obsessed. Did she die from lack of training in a past life or something? What’s her deal?

The tables had turned—Chung Myung was the one who couldn’t keep up anymore.

"Master! Where are you going?!"

"Master! Come back here!"

"Master! Take me with you!"

Master, master, master—

"Just call me that stupid title one more time, and I’m going to drag her to the top of Mount Hua and toss her off so she lands right on her damned head—"

"You need to take a breath… Chung Myung-ah."

Chung Myung blinked at his younger brother, who took a deep inhale that sounded more like a gasp than a breath.

"Listen..."

Chung Myung stopped muttering in frustration and looked attentively at his sect leader.

"Have you ever tried asking her why she trains so hard?"

Chung Myung was about to say something but fell silent as he actually processed the question.

Tang Bo had said something similar: that raising a child required trying to understand their thoughts and motivations. But Chung Myung had never really thought of it seriously—until now.

He didn’t know the girl before she came to Mount Hua, so it was hard to tell if she had always been like this. But there's a big chance that something had changed to push her to this state.

He’d seen it—training so hard hurt her. She was in pain from her torn and strained muscles, but she kept coming back, again and again. There had to be a reason.

„How do I beat up more than ten bastards like you do?“

When those words rang in his ears like a bell, Chung Myung felt a faint chill creep into his mind, and it felt like he already knew what was coming.

Of course, as usual, that little brat still managed to surprise him.

"You lied!"

Chung Myung tilted his head at the last second, narrowly dodging the flying wooden plum blossom sword, then turned to face the culprit.

He’d actually discovered that children’s attacks were harder to predict. Normally, he could sense an enemy’s bloodlust before they even raised their weapon on him. But kids were too weak to emit such intent.

Looking at her now, he wondered—how could this feral little creature not give off bloodlust? Actually, that might be dangerous... imagine if she did have bloodlust on top of that wicked glare?

Chung Myung shuddered and looked at her as if she were some wild predator.

‘What did I do to deserve such an evil disciple?’

"What now?"

"You said you’d train me this evening!"

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him, but he caught it easily—even though he feigned shock. He’d been doing that a lot lately; he noticed it frustrated her more.

"Maaaasteeeeerrrrr, you bastard!"

"Hey! Watch your mouth—wait, that’s my pillow!"

He caught the second pillow she hurled at him just as easily, then dashed around the room while the little girl chased him like she was about to bite him.

"Alright, enough!"

Chung Myung stopped, and she crashed right into him. She was about to kick him, but he grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up.

"Tsk, you’re a total mess—"

He grumbled slowly, then suddenly paused.

That smell.

He quickly turned toward his side of the room—one specific floorboard had been pried up. He glared at the girl with a angry expression. He should’ve noticed the smell of alcohol earlier.

"You know kids aren’t allowed to drink that, right?!"

"You lied about that too! Alcohol tastes awful! Your taste is terrible!"

When she pointed at him like he was the only criminal here, Chung Myung’s eyebrows twitched in irritation. He dropped her, and she landed on her back with a groan—only to receive a flick on the forehead.

"You damned brat! Don’t ever do that again!"

Chung Myung sighed and walked back to pick up his pillow, tossing it onto his mattress carelessly. Just as he was about to throw himself into bed—

Sniff.

Hic.

He turned around slowly.

Oh heavens… Muryangsubul.

The little girl had curled up into a ball, her small frame trembling faintly. Between every few moments, he could hear soft, muffled sobs—like she was trying to hold back her crying.

At that moment, Chung Myung felt like he’d just been slapped across the face.

Did he do that?

"I hate you, Master!"

That's another slap.

Wow.

Had he finally, officially failed as a mentor? Without a doubt. And he’d been rambling about how easy it was to care for a kid just a few months ago.

Tang Bo would definitely mock him now.

"Wait, you’re not just crying because of that flick, are you? Come on! That wasn’t even that hard..! Tsk, kids these days can’t even handle a little discipline—"

Chung Myung muttered anxiously as he hovered around her helplessly, as if he truly didn’t know what to do—which was, in fact, the truth. Even though he’d spent some time looking after a child in his residence, he was still firmly in the “ignorant” category when it came to dealing with children and their complex emotions.

“Tsk… Damn it, was that hit harder than I meant it to be? Impossible... You shouldn’t be this sensitive. A martial artist needs to have a strong mindset—ah, damn it, who am I talking to? Sahyung will kill me if he finds out about this…”

Though he muttered that last part to himself, her ears didn’t miss it. Slowly and slightly, she lifted her head toward him, her red, tearful eyes gleaming as they looked at him—filled with a mixture of caution and hope.

Chung Myung froze when he saw her looking at him, but then tilted his head slightly toward her, as if ready for something. It was almost funny, seeing him take things this seriously just to avoid angering Chung Mun.

“I—I’ll forgive Master… but—”

She mumbled quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. Her voice was shaky and still carried traces of tears, but it was more composed.

“…But Master must train me.”

Chung Myung’s expression twitched. Why had he expected anything else from her?

Now, more than ever, he understood.

—

Chung Myung might not have become the perfect teacher.

Of course, old habits die hard. He was the kind of man who enjoyed loafing around, wandering aimlessly, and wasting time. He did train himself from time to time, but those were rare occasions—he had already mastered most techniques with terrifying speed.

He still liked to goof off, but in the end, he dedicated some time to training his little disciple.

It had been annoying at first—forcing himself to stick to a schedule and waking up earlier than usual. But eventually, he found himself slowly getting used to the new routine.

It helped that her constant nagging had significantly decreased. Though not completely gone, it was now just some reminders about their training sessions so he wouldn’t forget.

It seemed she, too, had come to understand that she couldn’t force him to train her all the time. That certainly helped.

“Master, can I have this?”

“You can’t ask after you’ve already taken it…”

Chung Myung muttered through gritted teeth as he looked at the eleven-year-old girl in front of him, who had already grabbed some candy from the stand before even asking—clearly implying she’d take them regardless.

But Chung Myung clicked his tongue.

“You already took some rice cakes—”

“Please!”

“I said no—”

“Pleeeaaase, Master!”

Chung Myung gave her a disgruntled look as she stared back at him with wide puppy eyes, then let out a dry, mocking laugh before pulling out some money.

“Tsk. Damn brat.”

“Pffft—”

Tang Bo covered his mouth and pretended he hadn’t seen the death glare Chung Myung shot him before turning back to the vendor.

But who could blame him? Who would’ve believed that the infamous Chung Myung had a soft spot for kids? He’d have laughed in anyone’s face who claimed such a thing just three years ago.

“So, how’s your training going?”

Tang Bo asked the girl sitting across from him at the busy restaurant table. She looked at him and quickly swallowed the food in her mouth, seemingly excited to answer.

“I’m doing great! I’ve gotten really strong!”

Tang Bo smiled with interest. He knew Chung Myung didn’t train her too attentively, but he also knew that made the training even tougher.

Unfortunately, a sarcastic voice interrupted before he could reply.

“Doing great, my ass. You fell off a cliff three times yesterday.”

“Master!”

The little disciple looked at him in protest, but Chung Myung scoffed and refused to meet her gaze.

“I didn’t fall! I almost fell—but I didn’t!”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not!”

Hearing Chung Myung’s amused, mocking laugh at successfully riling her up, she pouted, grabbed the salt from the table, and poured it all into his cup of drink.

Tang Bo’s lips twitched. He watched as she crossed her arms and turned away like she hadn’t done anything.

Chung Myung didn’t care and started eating. But the moment he tasted his drink, he spat it all out and coughed violently.

“You wicked little alcohol-ruiner!!”

“Ruiner? It was already gross anyway!”

Oh, he knew right away. It must’ve happened more than once. She laughed and jumped off her chair just as he grabbed her by the head.

“Uncle Bo, save me!”

She ran toward him—this evil little brat—so shamelessly throwing him into the fire. But Tang Bo found it funny. He scooped her up under his arm like a sack of potatoes and ran out of the restaurant.

Only for Chung Myung to appear in front of him in the blink of an eye.

“You think you can escape again like this?”

“Don’t you think so? Well then let me try.”

Tang Bo and Chung Myung stared each other down, both ready like they were waiting for the other to make the first move.

Right—

No! Left—

“Damn this nonsense!”

Chung Myung jumped across the tables, causing panic. The crowd watched in horror as Tang Bo fled backwards, barely dodging Chung Myung’s wildly inaccurate blows.

“Come back here now!”

“So you can beat me? No thanks!”

Tang Bo knew he’d get hit no matter what—even if he ran to the other side of the world.

“But do you have to be like this?”

“What?”

Chung Myung growled as he gulped water to wash out the excessive salt, finally having ended that chase. Tang Bo backed off, not wanting another bump on his head.

“Oh well, at least now we match!”

The girl laughed, gesturing at their equally bruised heads. Tang Bo sighed. The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss, so he probably deserved it when he picked her up by one leg.

“You little gremlin.”

“Ahh!! Uncle, put me down!”

—

“Normal?????”

“Chung Myung, calm down a little—”

“Did Sahyung say it’s NORMAAAL?????”

Anyone seeing Chung Myung at that moment would think a global disaster had struck.

His face was panicked, dark circles under his eyes—even though he clearly hadn’t stayed up late—and he was pale and sweating slightly. In short: a panic attack.

It was extremely bizarre. Chung Mun never imagined he’d see Chung Myung like this—but the day had finally come. Perhaps it was time to revisit some things they once thought impossible.

Anyways… this situation was exactly why young female disciples were usually placed under the care of an older female disciple—not a man.

This was a Taoist sect. The men here were ignorant about many things—especially those related to women. To avoid such situations, female disciples were only allowed to train under male teachers after they matured and knew how to take care of themselves when it comes to… certain matters.

Chung Myung and his little disciple were a special case—he was a top-level martial artist, and she had stubbornly insisted on learning only from him.

Of course, Chung Myung was even more clueless than the others about women. Chung Mun had wanted to explain things to him but thought there was still time.

“She was fucking BLEEDING, for heaven’s sake, and Sahyung tells me it’s no big deal?????”

Chung Myung looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

Should Chung Mun be glad his Sajae cared this much about his disciple’s well-being—or cry for the disaster unfolding before him? It didn’t matter. He couldn’t do either.

Damn it.

Even explaining what a menstrual cycle was didn’t help. It only made Chung Myung freak out more.

“Every month???? Every. Fucking. Single. Month.???????????”

Bleeding for a whole week didn’t sound pleasant—which, of course, it wasn’t. Maybe Chung Myung was overreacting—but honestly, he had a point.

Later, he banned her from getting out of bed or training, brought her a mountain of sweets, and remained deeply worried she’d die from too much blood loss.

Oh, and he also went to Sichuan just to beat up that bastard Tang Bo for not warning him about something so serious earlier.

—

Chung Myung opened his eyes slowly, waking from his sleep—and nearly had a heart attack of fright.

His disciple, wearing her trademark mischievous grin, stared right into his soul in silence with piercing eyes.

“Good morning, Master.”

“You need to stop doing that if you want this Master to live a little longer, you damned gremlin.”

Chung Myung rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He already had a headache despite just waking up.

“Kekeke… I couldn’t sleep.”

She hummed cheerfully, her tone full of energy, rocking back and forth where she stood. Chung Myung knew exactly what that was for.

“Where!?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

“Tell me!!!”

Though she was already fifteen, she still acted like a little rascal—which didn’t suit her age. Then again, this was how Chung Myung had raised her, so he couldn’t exactly complain.

In his eyes, she was still just a brat.

“Tell me! Tell me!”

“Ughhh… Stop it!”

She groaned theatrically and looked mildly annoyed as he sat up and stretched.

“Wait for me outside—”

“Got it!”

Tak!

The door shut quickly, followed by the sound of her hurried footsteps leaving. Chung Myung frowned for a moment but couldn’t stop a small laugh from escaping.

“Brat.”

On the way down the mountain, she didn’t stop pestering him with the same question. He was almost convinced now that she really hadn’t slept last night.

When she acted like that, it brought back memories of her early days as his disciple—a tiny little fireball who was always angry.

When he remembered it… Chung Myung’s eyes softened slightly, despite himself.

But it didn’t last long—her persistent nagging returned, as expected.

Still, Chung Myung decided he would endure it until they reached their destination.

He managed it—somehow. Eventually, she gave up and decided to wait until they arrived, settling for a bit of random chatter along the way.

And the closer they got, the quieter she became.

At the banks of the Yangtze River, Chung Myung’s steps moved steadily forward. The only sign someone was following him was the sound of footsteps pressing into the grass.

She couldn’t say anything—she was far too lost to even dare a word. Fear held her tongue.

Chung Myung stopped after a few moments of not hearing those footsteps anymore. He slowly turned to face his disciple, his expression unchanged even as he clearly saw the confusion and tension on her face.

“What, tired of walking already?”

“…”

“I’ll give you a test. Let’s see how much you’ve improved.”

He turned away and kept walking, even though the footsteps behind him didn’t resume. Then, in a flawlessly serious tone, he muttered:

“Today, we’re going to hunt some pirates.”

Slowly, the footsteps returned from behind, distant at first. She bit her lip in frustration and forced herself to keep walking.

Chung Myung closed his eyes. In his mind, he quietly apologized to the child who had followed him, despite everything.

He had to take something from her—just to ensure that nothing could take his little girl from him.

—

My heart was filled with hatred for some time.

I think Sect Leader-nim saw that. That’s probably why he gave me a notebook and a brush.

I never imagined I could feel like this. I never knew a person’s heart could hold so much hatred—but truthfully, I didn’t care.

Sure, my father told me that hatred was a bad thing, that letting go was better.

But no matter how bad it is, won’t these filthy feelings just disappear if I kill the people who took my family and turned my life upside down?

That’s what I thought—for such a long time. All I wanted was to drown in rage, blindly and stupidly, like some foolish, immature girl.

It took me a long time to realize how pointless those goals were. Even until recently, I was still burning inside with a fire I should have extinguished myself years ago, not let it grow out of control.

It was my only reason for wielding a sword. My only motivation for begging Master to train me—because I wanted to grow strong as quickly as possible.

Because I feared that if I was too slow, my enemies might die peacefully.

The mere thought made me furious.

I knew how disgraceful those thoughts were for a Taoist and martial artist of an Orthodox Sect. But I’m human too. Who has the authority over their heart to stop it from feeling?

That’s why I followed you. That’s why I pestered you with ignorant persistence. You were towering, you were Staggering, and your strength was like fuel thrown onto the flames in my heart.

I wanted something like that.

So I insisted.

I begged. I acted like a lunatic. I bothered you on purpose. I’m a little sorry about that—but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that enjoyed how you got angry at me every time but never pushed me away from you.

You were completely different from my father in every possible way. It was hard to treat you with the same reverence I gave him. I’m sorry for that. Maybe you weren’t my father—but somehow, I love and cherish you just as much.

I spent so much time by your side even though it's only few years to you, to me it was most of my life's years. And even though it should have stoked the flames in me further, I found myself at peace whenever I was with you.

You were never the fuel. You were more like the cool water that touches smoldering embers. Have you ever heard how beautiful that sound is?

I started to love my life more. Even though I childishly swore to never grow attached to anything again—I couldn’t help it. I didn't have the authority in my heart to stop it from loving the home I was given.

My sect siblings were kind. And despite how many times Uncle Bo voiced his annoyance with kids, I never once saw irritation in his eyes when he looked at me.

Later, I realized that after losing something, I could gain something else. And even though what I lost could never be replaced, I was still capable of gaining more and more. Having a voided place in my heart doesn’t mean it must be filled.

Lacking something isn’t a flaw.

It might be the trait I need to grow.

You saw that first, didn’t you?

I’ve thought about this for so long. I don’t know when exactly you figured it all out—but it would be strange to think I didn’t slip and reveal something as a child. I was a terrible chatter, after all.

And I’d be lying if I said I was happy when Master took me to the Yangtze River.

I felt the deepest frustration—because everything that had been on my mind for years crumbled in less than a day.

You were worried, weren’t you, Master? You’d never say it out loud, of course, but you wanted to take me there before I grew strong enough to sneak off on my own for revenge.

I pretended everything was fine—like someone swallowing a blade and staying silent. And I’m so grateful I did.

I think I’d curse myself now if I’d taken out my petty frustrations on you at that time. I don’t even want to imagine how ungrateful and selfish I would’ve looked in front of you.

I’m glad you made that decision, even if the future where I grew strong enough to go on my own never came.

Master… we just received word from the battlefield moments ago, and I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t.

The other disciples are either sobbing or already collapsed. Can you believe that? They think everyone really died!

I’m still waiting for you to come back. To return home. To Mount Hua.

Even if it takes you years, maybe because you’re badly injured and have to walk slowly… I’ll wait. And if I have to, I’ll come get you and carry you back myself. You know, I’m really strong—I can carry you on my back.

But… please, wait just a little longer.

Master, the Demon Sect is coming up Mount Hua.

There’s no time to escape. The news reached us too late.

I’ll pick up my sword. I’ll fight until the last drop of blood leaves my veins. I’ll protect the children here, just like you always protected me.

I’ll be the shield you were for me.

I’ll be like your back, the one I watched and trusted for years.

I hope I’ll shine—I hope I won’t embarrass myself. I hope I don’t trip in front of some Demon Sect scum. Wish me luck—and I’ll hope that I make you proud. That I lift your head high, with every time I lift this sword.

I’ll do my best. Even if I die, at least I’ll die properly—like an actual warrior.

So please, come back to Mount Hua.

Your annoying disciple will be waiting for you.

"...Or maybe at least, these few words that I have left for you."

Baek Chun read the last line slowly, quietly, as if savoring each word with care.

Then silence fell over the group of disciples huddled together. There was nothing to say—everyone was overwhelmed with intense, tangled emotions.

Jo Gul sniffled. He was the first to speak.

“Ah… thinking that her Master never received it...”

Sighs echoed from here and there. The disciples looked at one another, unsure of what to say. Baek Chun was the next to break the silence.

“The rest of the pages burned… Only the last few remain. Her final message to her master. What a thing…”

The disciples sighed again, the weight of their grief only growing heavier upon hearing that.

Earlier that morning, Baek Chun had noticed the half-burned notebook in the Sect Leader’s room during a meeting. Hyun Jong noticed his curious gaze and let him take it, telling him he could read it. Once Baek Chun learned it was the final words of one of their ancestors, he knew he couldn’t read it alone—he had to share it with the others.

The elders couldn't tell much about the ancestor, but after some searching they came to realize it was one of the younger disciples that were left in the sect. She would be around 17-18 years old.

She protected Mount Hua with all her might, died in there with her sword still drenched in enemies blood, like a shield. Mount Hua's Brave Shield.

Chung Myung had only been curious about what they were fussing over. The mention of "an ancestor's last words" caught his attention more than anyone else’s.

He never imagined it would be something like this.

Clack!

Chung Myung slammed his door shut after quietly slipping away from the others without being noticed.

His back bumped lightly against the wooden door as he let himself slide down slowly. He ran a hand through his hair, the pressure building inside his chest.

„…Master.“

“You should have run…”

Chung Myung’s voice cracked, soft and unsteady.

“You shouldn’t have waited. Why… you can't just trust my strength like that…”

„…It doesn’t matter.“

“…”

„Thank you, Master.“

As the sting reached his eyes and the ache swelled in his chest, Chung Myung pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself—but his breath trembled faintly in his throat.

His heart ached more than ever at the void that could never be filled. This time, the void was in his heart.

Back then, Chung Myung didn’t understand why—or how deeply it had to hurt—for someone to destroy themselves over something they’d lost. Not choosing the clear path of moving on with life.

But the years passed, and now, here he was.

His life. Mount Hua. His home and the irreplaceable things he had lost.

She had waited for him, that bratty girl, his bratty little girl. And she had written those words in the last moments before the blood spilled everywhere—hoping, just hoping he would return someday. Hoping to ease the sorrow of what he had lost.

And now he had returned, to Mount Hua, and he had received her message.

“Idiot…”

She truly was an idiot… Like master, like disciple.

✦

A/N: I wrote this while on my period, so yk.

I'm honestly not very convinced with this oneshot so I'm letting y'all decide wether it deserved time or not.

Peace out!

[brailsthesmolgurl]

APPRENTICESHIP

Preview: Set back in the olden days of China, your attendance was much summoned by Master Li Shen, a renowned Medical Physician that is in need of an apprentice. Known for his stoic personality, your temperance was definitely tested. But, could there be an actual explanation behind his stoicity?

Warnings: This is gonna be quite of a long read for you Zayne girlies out there so pls strap in. Fluff, makes your heart giddy in a funny way. A possible new series.

P.S: I am not a doctor, hence most of the 'medication methods' mentioned in here are for the sake of the plot and is not and shall not be implied to real life practice! Futhermore, I am not a historian so I am not the best at depicting traditional China perfectly, all of the basis of my descriptions are taken off of the Chinese dramas I used to binge on. This story was also highly inspired by this amazing artwork and the most recent memory of his! He is always known as Doctor Zayne in modern days, so why not give it an inspirational twist and make him a highly honoured doctor in the older days of Chinese history! Divider is sourced from here!

next part

"We had arrived, Miss y/n." Waking up to the jolting of the chariot and the shoutings of the driver. Her head was ringing, possibly a light comatose from the constant bumpiness of the muddy roads for the past fortnight. Rests were only necessary for food and bathroom breaks but other than that, most of the time was spent encaged within the four walls of her chariot. Occasionally, the books may be entertaining; a romance novel, a literary piece and a biography of the great physician named Li Shen. The man named in the biography shall be her soon-to-be-teacher.

Master Li Shen is in need of an acolyte and y/n was called upon to meet him due to her father's connections. The old man boasted her to be a capable physicist, mildly implying his greed to receive a reputable name for his own bloodline. Although y/n father's opinion was distasteful, but she had decided to go through with it. Anything would grant her a better life than to be at home, waiting to be married off to some man who might be thrice her age and a pervert. Marriage is not the one thought she would want at this moment, let alone a marriage that she holds no control over.

Stepping out of her chaise, covered feet coming in contact with rocky pathways and eyes welcomed the sight of the abundance of verdurous greenery. Everywhere she looked, it was aligned with bamboos and wild grasses and ferns, standing on-guard and surrounding a standalone courtyard house. The courtyard house was mostly white and brown, the body of the walls being white whilst stilts were clearly constructed from lumbars. It sat within the same aesthetic framework as its surroundings.

The driver got off of his seat at the front of the chariot and he retrieved y/n's bags from under the chariot. “The master shall await for you in the house. I will get your bags into your chambers later. It is best to bid your greetings to the master as of now.” She heeded his instructions, walking over towards the grand doors of the standing structure. Pushing upon the heavy doors, it revealed a wall with a carved symbol—a standardised design of houses back in the days. The symbol is intricately carved by hand, taking shape of a leaf cradled by a pair of hands. It is a symbol that could only be bear by the best of physicians, an indicator of intermediate medicinal herb practitioners.

To the left, the hallways extended into a total of three rooms. All of the windows aligned with paper maché as windows and doors made out of varnished bamboo wood. On the right, only a set of sliding doors were found, no paper maché to be found on the windowsills and you assumed that is where the treatment room is allocated at. The courtyard in the middle held a small pool of lotus flowers, blooming elegantly on non-rippling waters. A stone table placed next to the pond, with incense burning on a wooden bark. It explains the lingering of a smoky-jasmine scent in the air.

“Y/n right?” A young man revealed himself from behind one of the sliding doors, adorning a cotton Hanfu. His features are sharp, pinched cheeks a good mixture with his chiselled jawlines. But his body was taut, the clothes he wore hung onto his mannequin-like body structure. “I hope the ride here has not taken too much of a toll of you as I could not afford to care for you the next day.” He was just as what was described in his biography. A man that owns an ego higher than his height, with a handsome face but too cold to touch. “Your chambers are located at the end of this hallway. Be awake at dawn tomorrow.”

Y/n laid in her bed at night, listening to the choirs of nocturnal bugs outside of her window sills, the haunting howls of wolves, the ricocheting chirps of the grasshoppers, the piercing screams of the cicadas. The room she was assigned to was fairly large, with more than enough space to fit a double bed and a dining table in it. The room is not anywhere special, it looked oddly familiar to her own room at home but minus the amount of gilt paintings and ornaments. It also reeked of herbs and incense that leaves a smoky aftertaste through one's nostrils. After a short staring contest with the ceiling, her dreamland beckoned and she willingly submitted to it.

The next day, y/n got jolted awake to screams followed by gibberish that was indistinguishable. Sitting up in a hastened manner, eyes widened and hair messily sat on top of her head. Oh no, the sun is up. She pushed herself off of her bed and scrambled to make herself presentable then proceed to storm off to the treatment room where she was expected to be. Sliding open the bamboo door, and she was welcomed with the sight of a young man wincing in pain, with the master holding a thread in his hands.

"Your habit of waking up to the sun heating up your bottom is unfavourable." Master Li Shen spoke, not sparing her any eye contact as he continued his suturing on the guy's back, and her peripheral vision eyed the man biting down onto a wooden bark to muffle his screams. "Don't just stand there, make yourself useful. Get me the herb in the mortar." And she did as she was told.

A huge gash streaked on the back of the young commoner, now sutured up neatly in measured knots. It seemed like it could have been caused by a blunt force of trauma. "Here." Y/n handed the filled mortar to Master Li and he applied it onto the wounds, the patient of his hissing in response. "How did he obtained this wound?"

"Whiplash, he said it was an accident, but judging by the wet patch at the front of his pants, I assume it's intentional for the whipping, just not expected for this aftermath." Hearing that, her face heated up at the context that she was provided with. Men of lower classes clearly have lesser safety measures when it comes to fulfillment of their kinks. "Serve him a cup of tea that would suit his current conditions. He has sutures and a mild fever from the infection." Then the physician got up, his outfit emitted his elegance, long and flowy, just like his hair; a symbol of virility in this age.

Once Master Li had left the room, y/n scooted over to the tea table, looking at the array of loose tea leaves at her disposal. She took up the small tea pot, and filled it up with the chosen tea leaves before brewing it for the patient. Amidst waiting, she decided to observe the lotus flowers in the courtyard. She slid open the door and there is Master Li, sat at the stone table, with a calligraphy brush in his hand and a scroll laid out in front of him. "Master Li." Y/n mustered up the courage to approach him. "I apologise for my tardiness this morning. I did not mean to be late."

He looked up, hazy green eyes glanced at her. His hand still hovering over the scroll. "Being tardy is not professional, it is not tolerable for me. Do not repeat that mistake, do you understand y/n?" She nodded quickly and sat yourself opposite him, watching him quietly as he started producing strokes of words on the scroll. His handwriting is surprisingly neat, and fulfills the box-like characters for Chinese writing. So he is not only a good physician, but also has good handwriting. When he is done, he set the brush aside and looked up at her again, expressionless. "I will be setting into town tonight to gather some herbs. Would you like to come with?"

"Yes, I would love to. I have not been here before." She smiled at him and the man in front of her sighed contently. Getting up to retrieve his scroll and he walked towards the room the patient is in. "The tea should be brewed by now, you should serve it while its hot. After you're done with this patient, you may rest and I shall see you later during dusk."

Two hours was spent on treating the oncoming patients and Master Li Shen had asked her to tend to them as he had some other matters to care about. The patients ranged from having a mild cold to obtaining wounds from their harsh work. The only weird case of the day was surprisingly the one that she woke up to early in the morning. Throughout the treatment process she got to hear what the patients have to say, particularly this old lady with the surname Hwang. "He is a lovely young man you know? He never charges us a single penny and always prepares chrysanthemum tea for me to bring home. Even on the days I am not sick, I could come over just to have a cup of tea with him and talk."

"I see." Y/n replied with her back turned towards the lady as she was preparing the medicated powders for the lady to bring home to her granddaughter. "Does Master Li Shen talk a lot?"

"He does, but not as much as he does for listening." The old lady chuckled, her sign of age disappearing for a moment whenever she smiles. "I was telling him the other day that my granddaughter is almost at the age of maturity. I figured I could introduce them together. It would be nice to get her to marry a physician, especially one who is so good looking and kind like him."

The load of information caught y/n off guard slightly, not being able to properly process it as she did not know him well enough to be a judge of character just yet. She instead, focused on the task at hand, wrapping up the earthly toned powder in a thin piece of brown paper and wrapped it with some thin bamboo strips and turning to face the woman, placing the packed medicine onto the table and sliding it over to her. "I guess marrying your granddaughter to a physician may not be a bad idea afterall." Slender fingers tapped onto the medicine pack. "Mix this with hot water and drink it twice a day. If she does not show any signs of improvement, you may bring her back next week."

After the dismissal of the old lady, y/n walked her out towards the main entrance. Upon arriving at the main entrance, the heavy wooden doors were pushed open and her hands unconsciously held the lady's shoulders, backing her up so she would not get hit by the doors given her poor vision. "Master Li Shen." Y/n greeted the towering man that slotted into the entrance and his eyes glanced over towards y/n, and towards the old lady.

"Y/n, Madam Hwang." A curt nod was accompanied with his greeting and he turned towards the young acolyte of his again. "You may get ready, I can lead Madam Hwang back from here." He extended an arm forward for the old lady to grasp onto.

Y/n was slightly reluctant of course. He had only came back and now he has to leave the premise again just to walk the old lady home. She did wished for him to take a rest before the outing with him later in the late evening. "But Master Li Shen, you had only came back from your trip to--"

"I will be fine y/n." The end of his lips pulled up slightly, revealing a small smile of solace. For a man whom had always been content with their own loneliness, having someone who cares for such a minute detail made him felt acquainted. "I shall send Madam Hwang home and await for you in the courtyard for our outing in a bit. Come Madam Hwang, let's get you home." His tone, amiable towards the senior as he slowly walked her out of the premises. It was at this moment that got the young maiden wondering if Master Li Shen had always been such a warm fellow and he is the total opposite of what the rumours had suggested of his attitude.

The town was much bigger than what she had expected, streets lined with stalls selling various goods, foods and beverages. Lanterns lit up the street in a warm glow, a stark contrast towards the silverish-blue rays of the bright moon for the night. People of all ages flood the street like ants within a colony, busy yet lively. Y/n walked next to Master Li Shen, cautious in herr steps as she does not wish to bump into anyone and cause any trouble.

A kid was shouting something incoherent, the thick accent of his made the dialect sounded like a foreign language. "Watch out." A palm landed onto her shoulders and she was forcefully tugged aside, her other shoulder bumping into something solid and she winced at the interaction. Looking over, y/n noticed Master Li Shen was the one who has his arm around her, a glare sent towards that mischievous kid who charged right towards you earlier. But when he looks down towards the young maiden again, his glare dissipated. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Master Li Shen, thank you for watching out for me." You bowed slightly, a common courtesy in the olden days to show one's respect to another. His arm around her shoulder dropped and she could feel the heat prickling on her cheeks. Never once, she was touched by a man other than her father. Although the touch does not mean much, it still lingered on her skin.

"You should walk in front of me," she raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. "So you may be safer in this crowd." Nodding her head, she position yourself in front of him and slowly lead him through the crowd, cheeks still burning whenever his chest would accidentally bump into hers due to the crowd flow. The man behind her however, had no issue following behind her, his vision clear given his height difference from the norm. Or so he thought. "You may turn right on the upcoming junction. That should lead us right to the--- y/n?" Looking down, y/n's figure is nowhere to be seen. "Y/n?"

The crowd was too hectic, she had underestimated the crowd flow as she weaved through individuals, totally forgetting the fact she was supposedly accompanied by a giant. Given her small stature, she managed to get past the crowds easily only to find herself lost in a small alley. The darkness loomed over the alley, swallowing everything within its path to blend it within the shadows. Y/n could make out movement from within the shrouded darkness, but it sent goosebumps down her spine. Something does not feel right.

Suddenly, a bony hand reached out from the dark and she cried out as it grabbed onto her arm. The force then started to reel her in, and she could feel her tears surfacing to her eyes, too stunned to fight back. "Let me go!" She shouted in a desperate attempt to flee, head turning towards the crowd to grab someone's attention with her voice. More hands had started to extend from the dark alley to secure her legs and the ends of her dress, ready to drag her into god-knows-what. "HELP---" Another hand slapped itself over her mouth and she was immediately voided of her attempts to free herself as she got dragged into the darkness.

How long has it been? Her eyelids lifted every once in a while, visions went from black to blurred in a few blinks. She was drifting in and out of a state of unconsciousness and her ears could only take in the sounds of someone breathing hard. Her body was jerked back and forth, feet are certainly not on solid ground. But it felt like she was floating?

When y/n managed to snap her eyes open, she shot up while inhaling a breath so sharp it jabbed her lungs. "Careful, you might hurt yourself." The voice got her snapping her head towards the side, seeing Master Li Shen seated next to her, blowing onto the tea cup in his hand. "Here, have some of it. It shall quench your thirst." He handed her the cup that he had blew onto. Sipping onto it, the warm temperature soothes her body immediately.

"What happened?" Y/n asked, placing the tea cup back onto the table and looked at him. The moonlight gleamed through the wax papers of the window sills, an unnatural soft glow coming into the room and lighting his face up just enough to for her to read his expressions, which holds a blank slate. "You just got a little bit of a concussion. Nothing much to worry about." His voice was hushed, cool-headed as always. "You shouldn't have ran off like that, the town is dangerous. Especially for newcomers like you. You're fresh meat alike to them." He then leaned forward with a piece of cloth in his hand. She was too fixated on trying to regain her memories of the happening that she had totally missed out on him wringing out the cloth.

The way she had withdrew herself out of shock halted his movements from reaching his hand out further. He figured it would be best to get her permission before he proceeds. "You have some cuts on your cheek, I am going to clean it for you." So much for asking for her permission, it's more like he is demanding for her face to be served to his treatments. It does make one wonder if he treats all of his patients like this? Demanding.

To Li Shen however, it was more of an act of service. He could care less if someone was found in the state she was in earlier. Finding y/n in the alleyway, strewn on the muddy floor like a puppet as men stood over her, ready to do whatever they had planned to do. Alleys were never known to hold people of high morality and it got Li Shen irked on what he thought they might do to someone so beautiful like y/n. Yes, Li Shen does think of her as a beauty. Hence, he went out of his way to save her. He did managed to save her in one piece, but part of his guilt still troubled him, wishing that he could have stop them from digging their dirty nails onto her skin and causing those scratches and cuts.

"I can do it myself Master Li--" She was paused when he put the wet cloth over her mouth to shush them. He was so close that she could smell the scents of the market she was in earlier. Smells of the sweet tanghulus and freshly made baos, enveloping his usual jasmine-incense musk.

"Please, call me Li Shen from now on. We are quite close in age, there is no need for so much formality." His wet cloth pressed against the cut on the right side of her cheek and she winced in return, cheeks turning the opposite direction due to the stinging pain. "Stay still, it will only hurt a little." His free hand came up, and two fingers were placed under her chin as he turned her head back to face him. His gaze was steady, not on her wound, but staring right into her soul. Those emerald orbs that held a lot of emotions in them, yet she could never seem to read through them.

The tension grew between the both of them, as the staring contest went on. For a moment, she was encaptivated by him, a man so ethereal and smart and mysterious that it makes one want to fall for him. Maybe he is not the same as what the rumours had always suggested. "Li Shen." Her mouth blurted out his name before her brain could even process the emotions and she immediately looked away to hide her embarassment.

When she broke off the eye contact, it got Li Shen to snap out of his own reverie as well. His heart was thumping against his chest when he looked at her a while ago. It was as if the night had gotten longer. She looked ethereal to him too, the shine of the moonlight highlighting her facial features; her big eyes that had always held sincerity in them, soft and plump lips that makes the best smiles and laughters, her long brunette hair that flowed down to her waist, a heart so big that if given the chance to fit everyone in it, she would. She had never changed from the last time he had last seen her.

Li Shen had never really been associated with any females for any romantic relationships. Even when he was introduced to different potential marriage partners, he had never felt the need to be in a relationship. But with y/n, he just knew that it had always been her. Even from young.

"Yes?" It had never felt so right for him to hear her say his name out loud again. But, did she remembered him? Before her last accident? Right before he had left to the city for his physician test? When he had gotten news of her drowning because she fell into a well by accident and only to be awoken to a fresh start for memory collections. Had he ever once popped up in her pretty little head?

He anticipated for her response, trying so hard to not break the ice and to ask her the question he have had the moment he saw her within the candidate pile to be his assistant. However, his anticipation diffused as soon as she answered. "I...I didn't know why I did that. I apologise." Her apology was frowned upon for the wrong reasons, but Li Shen of course, was discreet about it. "I only remembered I blacked out."

"You don't have to know what happened." Li Shen tilted her head back to its initial position and wasted no time in pressing the cloth against her cheek. She hissed this time, biting her lip to stop herself from turning her cheek again and to disrupt his aid. "But you are safe now and that should matter the most." The statement came off to be more bitter than what he had intended to. It was a long awaited sentence. But with the current context of her not even having a slither of memory of him, it hurts him to say it. "The water was mixed with some herbs, it shall promote healing within a couple of days. You had a few cuts on your legs and arms too but I had helped you to apply some medication onto it while you were unconscious just now. I will see you tomorrow morning."

The physician then got up, his height immediately taking up space within her room. She may not know him, but she could tell that he seemed bothered. His sudden change of tone and body language got her curious. Without much thought, she leaned up slightly and grabbed ahold of the ends of his outfit. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look down at her. "I will not run off again next time, Li Shen. I'm sorry for what happened today. And thank you, for saving me." Accompanied with her smile, it only got Li Shen's heart weighing more than ever. The physician only gave her a nod of acknowledgement and sees himself out of her chambers. If only he had never left her from the start, then perhaps, he could have actually saved her.

next part

OKAY BBYGURLS, this is soooooo long overdued because of a writer's block. Lemme know in the comments if this is worth for a part 2 hmmmm :)))

[rightnewshindi]

हिमाचल सरकार ने शिक्षा के लिए आवंटित किया 9850 करोड़ का बजट: शिक्षा मंत्री रोहित ठाकुर

Shimla News: हिमाचल प्रदेश के शिक्षा मंत्री रोहित ठाकुर ने घोषणा की है कि राज्य सरकार ने शिक्षा के वि���ास और सुधार के लिए 9850 करोड़ रुपये का बजट आवंटित किया है। यह राशि राज्य के कुल बजट का 17 प्रतिशत है, जिसका उपयोग शिक्षा की गुणवत्ता को बेहतर करने और आधारभूत ढांचे को मजबूत करने में किया जाएगा। शिक्षा मंत्री ने यह बात रविवार को राजकीय महाविद्यालय ठियोग में आयोजित वार्षिक पारितोषिक वितरण समारोह के…

[scuttlingcrab]

The Perfect Teacher

Summary: Late one night, Emmrich stumbles upon Rook giving Manfred dancing lessons in the library, coming to the startling realisation that he might have feelings for her. And boy oh boy, does Emmrich fall hard and fast...

You can find it on AO3 too!

BTW! I'm open to receiving any/all prompts on Emmrich, so please send away! xx

(Image via pictureamoebae)

After an exhausting day of cleansing blight from the streets of Treviso, Professor Emmrich Volkarin was relieved to finally be back in his quarters and have the evening to himself. 

It had been seemingly never-ending, its pools of corruption sprouting up like a plague, not to mention the dreadful legions of Darkspawn that crawled around every corner. Rook, Lucanis and Emmrich were only able to destroy a portion of the growth that day, the mere thought of how much more was consuming the city was enough to give Emmrich consecutive nightmares.

Once he had his nightly bath, donned a fresh set of clothing, and partook in some tea and refreshments; Emmrich nestled up in his red leather chair by the fireplace, ready to begin a new book. Courtesy of Bellara, the rather interesting work was a title he was not acquainted with: By Way of the Fade.  

Since the team’s inaugural book club, Emmrich was keen on reading more than the allocated novels, curious as to what other narratives he had yet to discover. It was his own personal fact-finding mission, purely for experimentation, gaining more insight into the world outside of Nevarra through these novellas. 

Emmrich naturally knew all the classics, had read and re-read the entirety of Thedas’ greatest tragedies and its grandest adventures, but was unfortunately a bit out of touch when it came to the latest trends. That realisation alone caused a new wave of dread to wash over him. However, seeing Bellara’s passion for storytelling, and her eagerness to start the book club in the first place, temporarily put Emmrich’s aging heart at ease. 

Shortly after discussing The Hallowed Halls with the group, he had discreetly asked Bellara if she had any more recommendations. In a burst of excitement, she sprinted back to her room, returning with a massive pile of her favourite novels and serials. In the end, Bellara made not one, but three trips; stumbling back and forth as she struggled to balance the volumes, eventually lining them up neatly by his desk. 

These weren’t normally the types of titles he’d pick up on his leisure. In his youth he most certainly would’ve been inclined to indulge himself in these risqué romances or elaborate espionage thrillers, but now, his motivations were directed elsewhere. To his duties in the Mourn Watch, to fighting the Evanuris, and to his eventual, Lichdom. 

But alas, it was a nice change of pace. It had only been a few weeks since his arrival at the Lighthouse, and he was already accustomed to this lifestyle, his new acquaintances, and the plethora of adventures he’s had so far. Quite the difference from his days writing papers and teaching in the Necropolis, where he was more than content to just keep drowning in his work.

Though he could do with less blight, and Darkspawn for that matter. The amount of washing he’s had to do to rid his ensembles of blood stains and dirt and..! Oh, but he shant complain, he was happy to have been chosen and included in something worthwhile. 

Time passed quickly as Emmrich read, and soon he had reached the final page. He closed the book with a contented sigh, placing it carefully on his lap. He let his mind wander as he watched the fireplace, mesmerised by the flames dancing as he digested the remnants of the story. 

Despite what the title suggested, By Way of the Fade barely broached the topic of the Fade itself, which was a massive upset to Emmrich. It was another romance that focused on love enduring through the ages, even moving beyond death itself. 

Emmrich bowed his head in agreement to that sentiment, his thoughts briefly flickering to his parents, before moving on to the rest of the book. The plot was rife with political turmoil, not to mention an unexpected murder and shoddy third act. In Emmrich’s opinion, the less faff the better, and perhaps not such a misleading title would have made him give it a higher rating.

He made a mental note to speak with Bellara about the ending in the morning as he rose from the chair, stifling a yawn. 

The hour was growing late, too late in fact, encroaching into his sleep schedule. As a man of routine, he seldom liked when he lost track of time, but some things just couldn’t be helped, especially when his hobbies were concerned. 

Emmrich reached for the cup on the table beside him, surprised by how weightless it felt in his fingers. Empty. He moved to the teapot, opening the lid only to find it was also devoid of any beverage. 

He hummed in disapproval, searching his room for any sign of Manfred. His companion should’ve been back ages ago to deliver the final tea of the evening. Manfred’s behavior had been changing noticeably as of late, instances of misbehaving or breaking an established rule; whether it was purposely or by accident, Emmrich would have to investigate further. 

The sound of raucous laughter trickled in from outside, stealing Emmrich from his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow, both in confusion and utter vexation as he wondered who could possibly be making such a racket? And at this hour? Had they no decency for the others?

Emmrich fetched his favourite burgundy dressing gown and proceeded towards his door, quietly exiting his quarters as he let the growing curiosity lead the way. He crept towards the balcony overlooking the library, half expecting to find Taash and Harding giggling incessantly once again or perhaps this time it was Bellara and Neve, engaging in another heated gossip session. 

As he carefully peeked his head over the railing, he caught his breath. Simultaneously Emmrich’s mouth fell agape and his eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight below him. 

Rook was dancing with Manfred, or rather, she was teaching him how to move accordingly. The pair were alone in the library, the table shoved back against the bookshelves to allow more room. A music box sat on its surface, a nostalgic tune, a classical rendition of a Nevarran folk song, resonated through the library. 

For an Elf, Rook was tall in stature, and Manfred just about came up to her shoulders. Despite her muscular frame, she led him with expertise, moving with an air of grace and tranquility as she went over the steps with him. 

The music came to an end as Rook paused her movements, patting Manfred on the top of the head. He hissed back in excitement, jumping up and down and pointing towards the music box. Rook let out another boisterous laugh. 

“Okay, okay… we’ll do it one more time. Remember Manfred…” Rook started, breaking away and standing across from him. “How do we begin?” 

Manfred stared back at her with a blank expression, tilting his head as he thought long and hard. Rook watched him expectantly, clasping her hands together as she waited for an answer. After a moment or two in silence, she smiled warmly and flicked her wrist. Her fingertips illuminated, purple bursts of magic filling the air around them as she used a spell to rewind the music box. The same melody began again and Rook took a step forward. 

“You bow… and I curtsy.” 

Manfred hissed happily and bowed, perhaps too deep, his head nearly reaching his feet. Emmrich couldn’t help but beam with pride at the sight, although he would need to show Manfred how it’s properly done later. Rook curtsied in return, proceeding to extend her hand as Manfred reached for it. 

“Now we move this way…” The two began walking in a straight line, their hands still joined. Rook took single sweeping movements, bouncing on her toes every other step as she moved forward. 

“One, two, three… one, two, three…” 

Manfred attempted to copy Rook but his movements were clumsy and off tempo, his bones rattling to each step.

“You’ll get there, Manfred. Now… the tricky bit.” 

Rook twirled to face Manfred, causing him to blurt out another enthusiastic hiss. She held both of his hands up in front of her as she guided him in a new direction. She took a balletic step and hopped with one foot, repeating the motion swiftly and lightly. 

“We step… and hop, step… and yes! Hop!”

Manfred was lagging behind Rook’s movements and instead of taking steps, he sprang along with her like a giddy rabbit. Rook chortled, trying her best to keep it together while continuing the dance. Manfred, oblivious to his errors, hissed with an amount of happiness that surpassed any level Emmrich had heard come from him before.

Emmrich gripped the railing as a memory suddenly floated to the surface. Images of him standing at the threshold of his parent’s kitchen, watching them dancing in a similar fashion, so full of love and adoration for each other. Another image of his mother pulling Emmrich into the dance, teaching him the steps with care, the three of them, a family, fumbling together, laughing hysterically, so much merriness, warmth... Emmrich’s heart swelled as he relished in this echo from the past, a lump forming in his throat. 

He felt pulled towards Rook, moving down the steps as if in a trance. He was unable to peel his eyes away from how she presented herself around Manfred, without judgment, with unadulterated patience. Rook was the epitome of elegance as an instructor, a side he never thought he’d see from their fearless leader. 

“Yes, good Manfred!” Rook remarked, keeping Manfred’s arms raised as they twisted and turned under each other, and then again. They followed this same motion, twirling around the floor.

Emmrich reached the bottom of the staircase just as the music came to an end, watching as they eventually stopped dancing, Rook’s back now facing him.

“It’s not perfect yet, but we’ll get there with more practice.” Rook exclaimed, giving Manfred a passionate high five. “I promise.” 

Emmrich straightened his shoulders just a little more than usual, pulling at his dressing gown as he prepared to take a step forward. 

“If you would allow me…” Emmrich began.

Rook spun around, a tinge of shock painting her visage if only for a split second, before it was replaced with a smile. Emmrich reached towards the music box on the table, manually rewinding it. 

“It will do Manfred some good to observe how it’s done. I’ve found he learns most effectively when led with concrete demonstrations…” Emmrich bowed, extending his hand in an invitation. Rook curtsied and readily accepted. 

The music started slowly, and so did their movements. Emmrich delicately held Rook’s hand as they strode in sync to each other, matching every swing of the foot and light hop with an exact precision. They went through the choreography, coming face-to-face as they twisted and turned under each other, spinning in a small circle, just as Rook had shown Manfred a short time ago. 

This wasn’t the whole waltz, there were still leagues more that Rook hadn’t taught his companion. Nevertheless, Emmrich decided they would continue through the rest of the motions and finish the dance in its entirety, as it was intended. And he so desperately, selfishly, wanted to test Rook’s skills, see if there was more to what he had just witnessed.

Rook followed along effortlessly. With each step, each twirl, they moved closer to each other, until Emmrich placed one of his hands on Rook’s waist, the other interlocked with hers. It was at that instant Emmrich glanced at Rook’s face, for the whole dance he had been too focused on each step, how they moved together, complemented each other's gestures to truly see the woman before him. 

Rook’s eyes, which were always supported by that infamous hard stare, a characteristic he found to be quite endearing, albeit terrifying; were softer and glittering as they stared at him. Her lips, consistently pursed and ready to chuck an insult at anyone she thought deserved it, were parted slightly, the sides curving into a sly smile. 

It took a moment to register her expressions, and he nearly stumbled while they continued the choreography, moving about in circles. Panic surged through his body like a jolt of electricity, his ears burning. He wanted to look away, to hide himself from that stare which stripped him of all his defenses. But he was mesmerised, caught in an unexpected trap.

Emmrich took this opportunity, at this newfound affinity between them, to savour her beauty. Rook’s short plum coloured hair, an asymmetrical cut, fit her sharp jawline exquisitely. Her complexion was hardened with years spent on the battlefield, faded scars across her weathered cheeks, but she was striking all the same. He caught himself wondering what other scars lay undiscovered beneath the surface of her clothing, if he would ever get a chance to see them, to touch them… he bit his tongue, out of habit, to keep these illicit thoughts at bay.

This was the closest he’d ever been to Rook, a type of intimacy he hadn’t known for over a decade. As he held her closer, the smell of her soft perfume wafted up from her neck. He breathed it in as they twirled, as they stepped, hopped, and twirled again. Warm and spicy, scents of vanilla, perhaps… yes, a floral scent, a familiar one that he couldn’t place…  

When Emmrich was first introduced to Rook, he was charmed by her youthfulness and the commanding presence that followed her into every room. Perhaps he was even slightly intimidated by her tenacity, bluntness, and that peculiar sense of humour. Despite some of the rather vulgar swears thrown about on their excursions, words he hoped Manfred would never hear, it did make him smile. 

Rook’s flirting, with him and the other companions, did not go unnoticed either. Emmrich never missed one of Rook’s saucy exchanges with Neve, her heated glances towards Davrin, or even the abnormal amount of time she spent with Lucanis. 

So, as one might expect, Emmrich was taken aback by Rook’s flirtatious nature towards him. The time for romance was over for Emmrich, or so he thought, now in his seniority, there was barely enough time left for teaching Manfred all he had to know, let alone all of his upcoming plans for Lichdom. 

He initially believed Rook was just being polite, her way of making him feel part of the team. He took it in stride, relishing in the thrill of being noticed, pocketing the compliments, the cheeky banter, and nothing more. But it didn’t end there. He felt her eyes on him whenever they travelled together, how she leaned in closer as he spoke, showered him with those coy smiles, and often came into his quarters to solely strike up a random conversation. 

Then there was the matter of the previous night in the Memorial Gardens, Rook’s words on how impressed she was with his informal tea arrangement still nagging at the back of his mind. 

Emmrich’s chest tightened, a foreign sensation compared to his usual bouts of existential dread. A warmth pooled from the pits of his heart, surging through his being as it travelled all the way to his fingertips. 

It was only when Manfred joyfully hissed, his hands waving about in the air that Emmrich realised the music had ended. Emmrich and Rook came to a stop in silence, their lips dangerously close, a mere hair’s breadth from kissing. They stood there for nearly a minute, unmoving.

“You OK, Emmrich?” Rook whispered at last, her amber eyes still glittering.

He attempted to respond, but found his lips parched, his tongue latching to the top of his mouth. Manfred intervened, approaching the two and pointing at Emmrich as he hissed in a range of octaves.

Emmrich stiffened at Manfred’s statement, looking at him in denial as he instantly pulled away from Rook. Manfred hissed again, clapping furiously. Emmrich brought his hands to his cheeks to hide the fact that they were on fire, convinced his skin would melt away at any second. 

“I…” He cleared his throat, “If I may be honest, Rook. I have not danced like this in quite some time.” 

Rook took a step towards Emmrich and he backed away. She was looking at him intensely, eyes locked, pupils dilated, as if she was possessed by a greater being and ready to devour him whole. He could only stare back at her, his heart pounding so fast he was convinced it would wake the entire Lighthouse. 

Manfred hissed again. 

“Manfred, please!”

Rook laughed, that sly grin he’s grown to admire returning to her lips. 

“C’mon then, what's he saying?”

Emmrich huffed in defeat, putting his hands behind his back as he squeezed his fingers together.

“What Manfred wishes to say… is that we make quite the couple, apparently.” 

Rook burst out laughing, Emmrich promptly joining in, delighting in the ridiculousness of the entire situation. She grabbed hold of Emmrich’s arm and nearly fell towards him in a fit of giggles and he froze, the heat from her touch becoming the focal point of his entire body. He was terrified of moving, for fear of losing control, of what might become of him if he met her lips against his. It was that unseen force again, binding them closer… tempting him to kiss her… if only to see how it felt, how she tasted on his lips… 

He cringed at the thought, bringing him back down to earth.

“Say, Emmrich, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I beg your pardon!” 

It was her turn to blush.

“I just… I never see you this time of night. It’s mostly Manfred wandering about. You’ll be surprised what he gets up to after hours… he’s quite the card player, you know. Isn’t that right, Manfred?”

“I assure you, Manfred most certainly does not –”

Emmrich glanced towards Manfred and his jaw dropped to the floor for the second time that evening. Manfred’s expression might be unreadable to some but Emmrich could see right through him; that slight tilt of the head, the shift of the shoulders, enough to know it was true. Is that what Manfred gets up to when he’s asleep? 

“If you must insist, Rook, I was engrossed in a new book.”

“Oh?”

“A story I found to be quite intriguing, if not a bit imperfect. Focusing on a couple…” 

As Emmrich nearly began to describe the intricate plot points of the romance novel, he paused, noticing Rook was giving him that look again. The one where she was digging through the fragility of his armour, stripping him bare, piece by piece… 

“...of interesting developments in my research of the Fade.”

Rook nodded in disappointment, that mischevious look in her eyes fading, and Emmrich let out a small sigh of relief. 

“Ah, well…”  Rook stretched her arms out wide as she walked towards the stairs, “I think it’s time for me to get some sleep anyways.” 

“A wise decision, after such a tiring morning.”

“Mhmm, this was fun though.” 

Rook stopped, turning back to Emmrich as they shared a final lingering look. 

“Indeed,” Emmrich responded, with a bow. 

He could only watch as Rook ascended the stairs, walking further away from him and soon disappearing into her room. His heart sank when she was gone, from the thundering absence she left in her wake. 

Emmrich eventually turned to Manfred, shaking his head. 

“Manfred, perhaps in our next lesson we’ll focus on the traits of decorum.” 

Manfred nodded, hissing in anticipation.

“But first, you owe me some tea, do you not?” 

Manfred jumped and nodded again, running towards the library doorway. 

Emmrich remained as Manfred made his start to the kitchen. He stared inquisitively up at Rook’s room, the scent of her still strong in his memory. 

That floral auroma… 

Emmrich’s eyebrows raised at the flash of recognition, alas.

“Jasmine…” he whispered, nodding, chuffed with himself and her chosen blend of perfume. 

What a curious development. 

Emmrich walked out of the library, a slight pep in his step as he contemplated how he might begin his advancements.

[earl-grey-teacake]

I can so see George trying so so hard to be the Cool Dad but by trying to be cool he fails epically. Instead he turns into The PTA Parent. He is going to run that meeting like it's the military. He has powerpoints about bake sale allocations and why Mrs. So and so cannot take charge when he's off racing because she runs the meetings wrong and her cookies are basic and dry.

Alex by virtue of George failing to be the Cool Dad becomes the Coolest Dad. He's chill, he's funny, and he's a professional athlete that adores his kid. He shows up wearing his team cap backwards holding Logan who has on big sunglasses he stole from George and instantly becomes the Coolest Dad in the entire area. George would be affronted if he wasn't so besotted with his husband and kid.

Carlos is of course the Hot Dad. Moms swoon when they see him with Oscar, and all of them love to gossip about him. Oscar tries to ruin this by being a menace, but it fails because everyone swoons seeing Carlos try to gentle parent Oscar and make him laugh.

Lando is 100% the Dork Dad. He is such a dork who is always down to be the funny guy. He tries to teach Oscar video games (fails), and he is somehow an even pickier eater than the actual baby. He falls asleep in the weirdest places with Oscar literally sprawled on him also dead asleep. Carlos despairs at it solely because the pair of them have fallen off of whatever impromptu thing they've made their bed more times than he can count.

This has been in my inbox for so long!!! I'm sorry!!!!

George 100% thinks he is the cool dad but everyone around him disagrees. He is extra committed to the PTA mainly because he feels he needs to make up for being away so much due to racing. He's bringing snacks to the meeting, comes in with agendas and demos because he wants to be super involved in Logan's life. He is definitely coming to meetings with strong opinions and even stronger judgements.

Alex is absolutely the Cool dad out of the 4 in the eyes of the elementary school kids. He has pets, he's funny, has bright colored hair, and plays soccer/football with the kids after school.

Carlos would be the Hot dad, the PTA moms and some of the teachers dress up on days he usually picks Oscar up. However, I don't really see Oscar interfering with their attempts because 1. Carlos brings up Lando constantly and 2. Oscar more than anything is eager to go home and have his mid-day nap and if he doesn't get it he will be incredibly cranky at dinner.

I agree with Lando being the fun dad. He's down to let Oscar sit with him on the sim or play with whatever new toy Oscar received before slipping on the floor of the play room. I don't think he would sleep just anywhere with the baby solely for safety issues since he's afraid of Oscar falling or him falling on Oscar. He's also a little more lax on the "no sweets before dinner or bedtime" rule and justifies it as "well, I'm having one right now. It would be unfair if I didn't share."

[marvelslut16]

Field Day

Prompt number: 27 "Let me remind you"

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky x teacher!reader (no use of y/n)

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 1.1k+

Warnings: Swearing, a stupid hr policy based off a policy at one of my jobs, a horny woman at work, I think that's it.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been ages since I posted a fic, and this is 2 days late late. I really really want to participate again this year, but I have 2 jobs now and I have some other important things happening this month, so I won't have much time to write. But without further ado, here is day 1!

“Let me remind you that we aren’t allowed to date coworkers,” you sigh, as Peggy tells you that you should finally give into your work crush and go on a date with Bucky.

Bucky is the sweetest soul you have ever met, he’s a little shy but once he warms up to you he’s just a giant teddy bear who will do whatever he can to make your life easier. He’s been your work crush for about a year now, when he switched from second to fourth grade, the grade you teach. Now you have department meetings together, teach science labs together, and go on field trips together. His sweet personality and the forced proximity made it impossible not to develop a work crush on him.

“Technically we can date coworkers, it’s just frowned upon,” Peggy tries to play devil’s advocate, hoping that her friends will finally get over themselves and go on a date. 

“Oh yes, Bucky and I can date so long as we report it to HR the moment we go on a date, and they can still decide to fire one or both of us,” you roll your eyes and give your best friend a look before turning back to the playground to watch the kids. “Isn’t that why you waited to start dating Steve until he went to teach at the military academy.”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Peggy giggles, just as Bucky lets his kids out his classroom door to join yours and Peggy’s for field day. 

“What are you two gals talking about,” Bucky saunters over to where you're standing near enough to the playground to see the kids, but far enough from them that they can’t hear what you're saying. 

“I was telling her that she should start packing her lunch instead of going out on Wednesday and Friday, much healthier. And obviously, she called me on the fact that Steve sends me lunch from restaurants most of the week,” Peggy smoothly lies. It’s a decent enough fib, but if you were Bucky you wouldn’t believe her. 

So where did you end up getting stuck for field day?” you ask Bucky, he was sick the day of sign ups no doubt being stuck with the worst job. 

“The dunk tank, damn Stevie leaving the school and leaving me with this stupid job,” Steve always volunteered to do the dunk tank, and now that he’s gone the entire staff quickly snapped up every other position. “What do you have this year?”

“The inflatable obstacle course,” you grin widely, you’d been petitioning the PTA to allocate funds to rent one for field day for the past three years now.

“I told you you could convince those parents to let you rent one, and the kids are going to love it!” you can’t help but blush at his praise. 

“Third times the charm,” you give him a small bashful smile.

“I’m in charge of dodgeball in the gym,” Peggy cuts in, reminding you that you aren’t alone and have an audience of almost a hundred kids as more classes spill out of their rooms.  

Soon enough the three of you go your separate ways and get field day started. Like every year, the day flies with minimal complaining from the kids, lots of laughing, and just a few scrapes and bruises. The kids all loved your addition to the course this year, all cheering in excitement when they get to your station. Before you know it your class is back at your station and field day is wrapping up, so you take the kids to the refreshments table to grap a dixie cup off gatorade and a cookie. 

“Oh dear god,” you murmur under your breath, catching Peggy’s attention as she walks up to the table with her class. 

Bucky’s also walking up to the refreshment table sopping wet, black t-shirt and basketball shorts clinging to his rock hard physique. Bucky is an attractive man, anyone who disagreed was either lying or blind, so this wasn’t a new revelation to you by any means. But knowing he has abs is one thing, but seeing his shirt clinging to them is a completely different one. Your heart starts to hammer harder and harder the closer he gets to you, damn Peggy had to get in your head about your crush earlier and you’re on the edge of  throwing caution to the wind, and yourself at him. 

“What were those rules again,” Peggy whispers, giggling in your ear. 

“Can’t remember,” your voice trails off just like your thoughts. It’s unreal and unfair that Bucky could be as nice and as drop dead gorgeous as he is. No man could ever live up to him, and you pity everyone that dares to try. 

“Only one person dunked me, and it was one of yours,” Bucky says gruffly, the twinkling in his eyes gives away his humor and pride in the student.

“One of mine?” you grin from ear to ear, your own pride showing at your student. One of your little fourth headers was able to dunk him, when the older kids couldn’t. “Who was it?”

“Me!” Brayden, your secret favorite student, hollers from behind you.

“Way to go Brayden!” you exclaim, the rest of your class cheering as you give him a high five. 

“It was hilarious,” Luke, one of Bucky’s students pipes up. “We were at the human wheelbarrow station next to the dunk tank and we saw everything! One minute he was on the seat, and the next he was coming up from the water coughing on it.” 

“Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?” you giggle, turning to look at him. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes on his, something the other female staff aren’t doing themselves. 

“I will be, once my ego heals,” your two classes laughing at his joke. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making my chili that you love so much,” you ask Bucky when the kids are out of hearing range. Peggy stares at you wide eyed, it’s like she can hear your inner monologue, in awe of your bravery and taking this chance. 

“I would love to,” Bucky has a soft smile on his face, like he’s sensing that everything is about to change for the better. Fuck HR, and fuck this job if it keeps you from being happy and with the man of your dreams. As long as you have Bucky everything will be okay, and you’ll both land on your feet eventually, even if it means finding a new district. 

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

You're nervous, early to the Zoom meeting. Graduation is looming and you still have no internship. Now you're trying your luck at an ad agency. Finally it's time for introductions and youre condused. You've been emailing the creative director and yet there's a young Australian man smiling at you. Little do you know its your future boss

Creative Director! Oscar, loves you from the get-go. Your interview even goes over the allocated time because there's just so much to discuss. He hasn't seen anyone this excited to join an agency, even if you have no background in advertising yet.

Creative Director! Oscar, who makes you sit across from him, so he can keep an eye on "his only intern". There's always an opportunity for him to cross over to your desk and give you a task or ask you something.

Creative Director! Oscar, who is always giving you feedback. Filling out extra documents from your university, meeting your teachers, all and all mentoring you. All this extra time with you makes you grow closer.

Creative Director! Oscar, who goes above and beyond in coaching you. Giving you different projects and treating you like a full fledged team memeber and not just an intern.

Creative Director! Oscar, who lends you books and sends you articles. As you grow closer, he even gets your Instagram and you two exchange memes and maybe sometimes a little flirtatious message.

Creative Director! Oscar, who takes you out of lunch to drive to client meetings. He makes you suck him off, cockwarm him with your mouth until he's calm. If you get the pitch, it's home office time where he fucks you to celebrate.

Creative Director! Oscar, who doesn't let you or anyone at the office call him anything ,but his first name. No sir, no boss, no nothing. But he has you in bed, you're begging for Mr. Piastri's cock or you're not getting anything at all.

Creative Director! Oscar, who loves that you're writing about your experience on LinkedIn. Only he insists to meticulously check every article, fingers buried in your cunt during feedback. You're not posting until you come.

Creative Director! Oscar, who is usually kind and sweet but sometimes absolutely degrades you to hell and back. You're just a cocksleeve he hired to pump his loads in. Hope that's okay with you, sweetheart.

Let's debrief about him in my inbox <3

[xxiiam]

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ ~ focus !

Bimbo! Reader x smart bf! Various characters

wk - 1.8k - love smart bfs sm

fem bodied reader , fem pronouns , reader gets called , “baby” , “slut” , dumbification , thigh riding, fingering , cock warming , desk sex , praise , degradation , cream pie , sub!reader , meandom —> softdom bf

Things like studying always would come easy for your bf . For you however , it was pretty difficult. Being the kind , caring and thoughtful boyfriend he is he wanted to help you out and help you study for your upcoming test . You two weren’t in the same class but he thought he would just see where he could help and maybe him being there would be some of the support you need .

He knocked on your off campus apartment door and waited patiently . You opened the door , smiling from ear to ear you were so happy to see your boyfriend - he has been so busy due to tests he has been either in the library or in the comfort of his own bedroom studying . You wrapped your arms around his neck hugging him tightly , “ah- I missed you so so so sooo much” you said wiggling your body and pressing it firmly to him . “I know baby I’m sorry, after all these tests I promise you’ll see me more. Have you started studying yet?” He asked softly , his hand on the small of your back , your sweet boyfriend truly expects the best from you. You pull away from the hug and look down at the floor , “today or like at all?” You said smiling at him . “At all” he deadpanned you. You puffed your cheeks up with air and looked around thinking of an answer . He sighed before walking into your apartment and closing the door behind him , you took his hand and lead him to your bedroom before flopping down onto your bed.

He walked to your desk and overlooked your worksheets and the blank study guide you were given by your teacher. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared at you , who was now laying on your stomach , scrolling through tiktok on your phone , kicking your feet in the air. “Have you seriously not done any of this y/n?” . You shook your head without looking at him , “nope” with the “p” accentuated to make a popping sound . “Baby come- sit here I’ll help you” he said sitting in your desk chair patting his lap for you to sit down . You giddily jumped up with your phone in hand , “leave that there” he said in a more firm tone. You didn’t mind , you threw your phone back down onto your bed and sat down onto your bf’s lap giggling like a school girl .

Your bf slowly went over the contents he wanted you to start today , it would be between 30 minutes - 1 hour of studying then you’d be allowed an allocated 15 minute break before starting again . You huffed when he finished explaining . Your pink glossy lips pressed together and pouted , “but I’ve really missed you- can we?” Your fingers danced up and down his toned bicep . His expression darkened and his tongue pressed against the inside of his mouth , “so that’s what this is? You dressed up all cute because you missed me and missed my cock stretching you out?” He asked in a low voice . You nodded excitedly, “mhm mhm- can we then I’ll study or whatever I promise” you grinned at your boyfriend . “I came over and I was so pleased you finally wanted to study- but no you just want to be a cock slut . Per usual” . You huffed , “it’s not per usual anymore since you never wanna dick me down anymore” . The slight annoyance and anger in your boyfriends tone made you giddy, and extremely desperate.

You began to shift whilst sitting on your bf’s lap, it had been so long since he had touched you , you squirmed with your legs either side on one of his toned thighs . You tried to grind your hips down as conspicuous as possible but of course he noticed his pants starting to dampen and how you squeezed your thighs around his . “Y/n focus or I won’t be touching you at all” he said pointing down at your study guide which was still very lacklustre. You huffed , “it’s been two weeks- that’s like so many hours without dick” your boyfriend “tsked” in response , “is dick all you think about? Is that why you’re so bad at studying? You wanna be a dumb slut instead?” . You bit down on your bottom lip , grinding your damp sex against your boyfriends thigh yet again , “for you yeah” , “focus on this” , “can you help I dunno where to start” .

After another five minutes of studying your boyfriend started to become annoyed by how much you were being sidetracked by your own horniness. “Stop grinding yourself on me” he said holding your hips in place . After a while of you huffing and puffing complaining , your boyfriend grew impatient . “Such a slut. You wanna act like a slut? You’re gonna be treat like one” he said before flipping your mini skirt up and shoving his hands down into your panties , his fingers becoming drenched with your slick , “how are you this wet from just sitting here? I bet you thought I’d just fuck you as soon as I got here and disregard studying, you’re probably wearing the panties I bought you . Is that right?” . Your bottom lip between your teeth , you nodded furiously as his thick fingers started to circle your throbbing clit , he moved his hand down to insert two fingers inside your sloppy cunt , making you mewl out his name . “Stand up” your boyfriend instructed as he removed his fingers from your throbbing sex , you gasped and clenched around the emptiness that was once filled by his fingers .

Your boyfriend was now the impatient one , he grabbed your hips and pulled you up , once you were standing in front of him he flipped your skirt up to confirm his theory and laughed dryly when he saw that he was right , before taking his index and middle finger and looping it into the band of your panties before ripping them down so they fell around your ankles , “kick them off” he instructed, you got all giddy again when you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and the zipper of his pants pulling down . Before you knew it , his hands were gripping your hips again but this time to pull you back down , he began to slowly inch his cock into you , he hissed between his teeth when feeling you adjust to his size and length after a long time of not experiencing this feeling.

You gripped the arms of your chair for support as your boyfriend’s dick began to rip you down the middle , you had forgotten how big it was . Your eyes rolled into the back of your head , tongue lolling out of your mouth when he finally bottomed out . Your bf was feeling mean and didn’t even give you a second to adjust before he started manually bouncing you up and down on his cock making you chant his name like a mantra . He smiled against your shoulder , “my pretty baby missed this cock hm?” You could only nod and moan , felt too good to give him a proper response .

Until he stopped. You whined , “huh? I thought you were fucking me? Why did you stop?” You said babbling like a baby . His hands returned to your hips , “you haven’t even got half way through your work. I wasn’t gonna let you get your own way? So go on continue” . You grumbled , “with your cock inside?” He hummed and nodded before tapping the work sheets in front of you yet again.

After 45 minutes of working you had gotten through basically all of your worksheets with the help of your boyfriend , maybe you just focused better with his cock inside you? Your boyfriend kissed your shoulder blade , “well done baby. You did exactly what I expected. Such a good girl for me aren’t you?” . You nodded in response , “thank you” . “Thank you?” “Thank you daddy” you beamed up at him. “Grind on my cock baby , get me hard again I’ll fuck you good I promise” he said kissing the back of your neck down the nape of your neck . You always did what your bf told you , after all he only wanted what was best for you . Your hips rocked back and forth on his cock , his hands digging into your soft thighs and hips , “stand up” he said impatiently, before swiping all of your work off of your desk and pushing your torso forward , your face pressed against your desk. “ah- wait what’re you doing?” You said furrowing your eyebrows . “I’m giving you your reward for focusing so well” he said palming his hardening cock since it had previously become soft since cock warming him.

His muscular thighs began to slap against your soft thighs . The sounds of your bodies colliding together filled the room along with the soft pants from your mouth and praises from your boyfriend , “you take me so well baby- I missed you I have . Fuck- don’t clench down on me like that” he had a bruise leaving grip on your hips but you didn’t care you just wanted him to fuck you. Your brain was practically mush and you were a puddle in his hands . “Feels good doesn’t it? You’re close aren’t you?” He said grinning and his cock continuing to bully your gummy spots . At this point thinking was out of the picture , your eyes rolled into the back of your head and tears welled up in your eyes . Your jaw was practically unhinged, your boyfriend kept cooing praises into your ear making your slutty cunt spasm and clench around his cock pummelling your pussy. Your body was limp , “come on come on my cock baby- I’ll fill you up just how you like come on” he grunted out , those words was all you needed before your body began to shake and cream around his cock , leaving a clear ring of slick around the base of his cock. Due to you clenching down so much it caused your boyfriend to dump his long awaited load deep into your womb , he kept pumping until every last drop seeped into you.

He pulled out collapsing back down into the seat pull you onto him , he pressed a deep kiss onto your lips , “such a pretty baby.” You babbled in response still unable to think about anything at all , “maybe I should just always have my dick in you when you need to study” he smiled against you .

Choso kamo , kento nanami , suguru geto , jean kirstein , armin arlert , kise ryota, takashi mitsuya , Atsumu Miya , Wakatoshi Ushijima , kei tsukishima , keigo takami (hawks) , hajime iwaizumi