#it is not rude to refrain from engaging in conversation..

[tears-of-boredom]

being non-verbal -whether its for the forseeable future or for just a moment- is not rude, is not unkind, and neither is it unpolite.

[icrypop]

Misunderstood By Society (5)

Asylum Patient! Konig x Doctor! GN! Reader

Warnings: Posted here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I let the conversation flow, keeping it light, keeping it human. I talked about small things—books I had read, places I had visited, even the weather outside, though König probably hadn’t seen the sky in a long time.

He responded in sharp, clipped sentences, his tone always edged with something cold. His words were blunt, sometimes outright rude, but I didn’t react. If he was trying to push me away, he’d have to try harder than that.

It wasn’t until I noticed the subtle shift—the absence of Jacobs’ shadow behind the mirror, the guards no longer lingering—that I finally steered the conversation where I needed it to go. His treatment.

“König,” I said evenly. “Tell me about what they do to you.”

His entire posture changed.

His fingers twitched. His shoulders tensed. His breath came out just a little harsher. I saw it coming before it happened. His aggression flared like a match striking against stone.

*“You think I want to talk about that?”* His voice was sharp, rising in volume. His heavy boots scraped against the floor as he shifted, his entire body coiled with pent-up frustration.

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He wanted a reaction. I refused to give him one.

I stayed still, my hands resting loosely in my lap, my breathing slow and even. “I think you don’t have to,” I murmured. “But I also think you want someone to listen.”

His fists clenched. His chest heaved. He was fighting something—himself.

For a moment, I thought he would snap. That he would grab the table, flip it, storm off, yell, something.

I spoke again. Soft. Steady. Grounding.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, König.”

Something in him stilled. His breathing slowed. His fists loosened.

Then, as if something inside him finally caved in, he sank to the floor in front of me, his massive frame hunched, his head slightly bowed.

I let the silence settle before speaking again.

“Things are going to be different now.”

König let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Different?”

“Yes.”

I wasn’t Jacobs. I wasn’t the guards. I wasn’t here to break him—I was here to help.

He scoffed but said nothing. I took that as an opportunity. “Tell me how they treat you.”

He was silent for a long time. Then—

“They taunt me,” he muttered. “Mock me. They force me. Hit me. Tase me.” His breathing grew uneven. “They cage me like an animal....Im not an animal- Im not supposed to be here! I need to be out. They need to let me out!"

My heart clenched. But my face remained neutral. His anger rose but I chose to refrain from engaging.

I had suspected something was wrong, but hearing it from him made it worse.

He had been fighting back because he had to. Because the people meant to help him had become the very thing he needed to be protected from. I met his gaze. “That won’t happen anymore.”

He let out another low, bitter laugh. “And why should I believe that?”

“Because I’m going to be here more than Jacobs now,” I said simply. “And because I won’t force you to take medication you’re not supposed to.”

That made him pause.

I leaned forward slightly. “I don’t believe in unnecessary pills. I believe in natural medicine. Things that actually help rather than subdue.” König didn’t speak, but I could tell he was listening.

“You’ve been given drugs to control you, not to help you,” I continued. “I don’t want you drugged into obedience. I want to figure out what actually works for you." A long silence stretched between us.

Then, finally, König shifted. His fingers flexed slightly, like he was mulling something over. “…We will see,” he murmured, voice quieter now.

It wasn’t trust.

Not yet.

But it was something.

A start.

[dumbkiri]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 『5』

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴢᴇɴ'ɪɴ'ꜱ,

The Zen'in's are the first to propose a marriage contract with [Name] [L.Name]. They want strong heirs and other clan leaders will make the same proposal. Satoru also wants his name in the hat! Let's not forget that boisterous male!

“So you’re still alive?”

[Name] turned her head to the left and saw Naoya Zen’in looking at her with a scary glare. [Name] didn’t know what she did to warrant that look from him or his cruel words. She decided it was best not to question him because the longer she engaged in a conversation with him the more she wanted to gauge her eyes out. 

Instead she bowed her head respectfully and greeted him with ease, “Good morning, Zen’in-san.” Her light blue traditional kimono bothered his eyes and he looked away from her beautiful body with a scoff. Naoya wanted her to yell at him for the assassination attempt on her life, but she remained a quiet, respectful woman towards him. 

“Now why are you bothering [Name], son?” Naobito walked onto the stone path that led to a meeting room. He was a proud man with a pretty unique technique. [Name] never really had a problem with the older man, but his threats were unsettling at best. 

Naoya looked back at [Name] and watched her look at him through his eyes. He always felt a certain attraction towards her when she did this. It felt like she was calling out to him, to hold her and to- “I don’t see why her presence is needed here. The men can heal their wounds normally,” Naoyo got rid of those annoying thoughts and looked back at his father. 

Naobito laughed loudly like he did it with his belly. Then he walked up to [Name] and presented his arm for her to take. She did so gingerly and out of respect. “Why heal over a span of a week or month when we have a goddess to heal wounds instantly? You should show her some respect, maybe then she would look at you more with care.” 

“I apologize for my rude staring, Zen’in-sama.” [Name] apologized quickly. She didn’t know that Naobito saw her glaring at his son. She should be more careful with observant men like the one holding her arm in his stiff grasp. 

Naobito shook his head and sighed, “No, you have all the need to glare at him considering what he tried to do to you.”

[Name] looked up at the older man and hummed, “I have no clue as to what you two are talking about. Naoya-san did mention that he was surprised I was still alive. Now you are giving me permission to rudely stare at him. Please elaborate on what I’m missing here.” 

Naoya and Naobito looked at her with surprised looks on their faces. Questions ran amuck in their heads and the men both came to the conclusion that she really doesn’t know about the assassination attempt on her life. Naobito was quick to answer her with a response that caught her off guard, “Ah well, he’s always telling you to jump off a cliff. I hate to say this, but his flirting is lacking therefore making him a tactless person. I’m not sure he’ll get married to anyone if he can’t get a sweet girl like you to fall for him.” 

[Name] used her unoccupied arm and lifted her covered hand to her mouth. She giggled into it and looked up at Naobito, “Again, I apologize for my behavior. I am just surprised that you hear all the silly jokes Naoya-san tells me. I think it’s quite funny he wants me to die because he’s going to have to get in line for that.” 

“No need to apologize, [Name]. I would refrain from embarrassing him in front of other leaders though. I may be fine with it, but others will not like a woman belittling a man,” Naobito warned her and she instantly bowed her head down in acknowledgement. 

“Of course, Naobito-sama.” 

“[NAME]-CHAN!”

[Name] lifted her head and turned her body to look behind her. A huge smile erupted on her face as she saw two little girls running her way with their childish grins. She released Naobito’s arm and hugged the little ones that ran into her arms. She squeezed them with love and shook them left and right. 

“Mai and Maki, I was wondering where my little ones were!”

Naobito and Naoya watched the woman with the girls; one stared at the scene with curiosity and the other stare was filled with annoyance. The girls laughed in her embrace and she set them back on the stone floor.

“You girls are radiating so much today!” [Name] praised and small flowers bloomed in her hair from pure joy. Pretty colors of bright, blue, pink and yellow made themselves known to the group. In turn, Mai squealed and pointed at the woman’s hair, “You’re growing flowers in your hair again, [Name]!”

The woman blushed and brushed the flowers out of her hair with embarrassed glances at the males behind her. “A-ah, I forget that happens,” She whispered timidly as her fingers ran through her soft locks. The petals fell out easily and slowly fell down to touch the stones. 

“We want to hear you sing, [Name].” Maki stated as her sister jumped into the air, nodding her head excitedly. The two girls loved when she visited them because she was nice and she had a pretty voice. She also healed their small souls with her songs. 

[Name] was nervous to say the very least. She was here to escort Naobito and Naoya to Jujutsu High on official business. She definitely wasn’t here to sing to little girls and Naoya made that very obvious. “She’s not here to sing a stupid song. You two have no right to be in [Name]’s presence. You’re both useless and you-” 

“What song would you like to hear? I think I have an idea of what you both want to hear,” [Name] completely interrupted Naoya leaving the 17 year old stunned. Meanwhile Naobito didn’t like the fact that Maki and Mai were here. He too was going to shun and scold the twins, but [Name]’s voice had an edge to it when she spoke. 

Although he knew she spoke gently to the girls, the dagger point was directed at Naoya. He let it slide though because he wanted to get on her good side. He wanted her to marry into the Zen’in Family. He wanted [Name] to produce strong heirs. 

Mai and Maki stayed silent, afraid of the backlash they were going to get from their superiors. [Name] took notice of this and reassured them with a smile, “Tell me once again, I could have been anyone, anyone else before you made the choice for me. ” 

Mai and Maki looked up at [Name] with surprise etched on their small faces. They were greeted with a happy woman who looked at them with love. She was gentle, she was kind, she was everything they wanted in a mother. 

“My feet knew the path, we walked in the dark, in the dark, I never gave a single thought to where it might lead.” 

[Name] bobbed her head side to side and took their hands into her own where she twirled them in slow circles. She led them into a slow and careful dance. Their fearful expressions were diminishing by the second. 

He’s heard all about her blessed energy, but this felt extremely nice. It felt dangerous how peaceful it was.

“All those empty rooms, we could have been anywhere, anywhere else, instead I made a bed with apathy.” 

Naoyo expertly distanced himself away from the trio and their lazy dance, rolling his eyes at the thought of women being pathetic. He never truly saw the beauty of a woman besides her looks. 

“My heart knew the weight, ten years worth of dust and neglect, we made our peace with weariness and let it be.” 

Meanwhile Naobito was taking in the rise of the blessed aura around [Name]’s body. It was enveloping the children in a warm embrace, it made them forget their threats near them. 

Again, this was dangerous. Naobito didn’t like this as he watched the very little cursed energy Mai had…start to disappear. 

“The moon will sing a song for me, I loved you like the sun. Bore the shadows that you made, with no light of my own.”

[Name] stuck her right foot out and Mai tripped over it, but [Name] was strong enough to hold the little girl up. The woman dipped the girl down and picked her right up to twirl her again. 

“I shine only with the light you gave me, I shine only with the light you gave me.” 

Mai giggled as she fell into Maki’s arms and the two girls began to dance with one another in pure bliss. The high school student watched the little girls experience joy and she loved to listen to their sweet laughter. 

Out of nowhere, [Name] was grabbed roughly by her arm and thrown across the courtyard. Swiftly, she caught her bearings and gracefully landed on her feet as she slid backwards. She looked up from the floor in surprise and saw Naobito standing protectively in front of the twins from afar. 

“Naobito-sama?” [Name] questioned in disarray. She wasn’t sure why she was getting a hostile look from the older man. A piece of her blue kimono sleeve was in his hand and she looked down to see that he truly ripped out a piece when he threw her. 

“What did you do to her?” Naobito demanded, his rough hand grasping Mai’s in his tight grip. The poor girl cried out in pain and [Name] stepped forward with a hand out hoping to stop the angry man. 

“Hold on, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please, refrain from harming her. She did nothing wrong.” [Name] begged and looked at the little girl who had tears in her eyes. Maki backed away with one step, but she stopped moving when Mai looked at her with a pleading gaze. 

[Name] could see the turmoil in Maki’s eyes and the teenage girl fell to her knees. This would certainly catch the twins' attention, she had hoped for them to follow her lead. Despite being submissive, [Name] knew that this was the only way to calm them down. Naobito growled out and shook Mai as he yelled, “She has no cursed energy now! You completely erased it with your blessed energy! Is this what you did to Maki?” 

[Name] looked up from her kneeling position and was stunned. She saw cursed energy around Mai’s body, this was totally confusing the teenager. “Naobito-sama, you are making a scene for no reason. Mai is covered in cursed energy, she always is.” [Name] gestured for Naobito to look at the little girl in his grasp. 

The older man glared down at the tearful little girl and saw that [Name] was right. It was the usual amount Mai flowed out meaning that she still had cursed energy. He let go of Mai and scoffed, “I know you did something to her. I don’t want you to sing to them anymore or anyone in the Zen’in Family, do you hear me?” 

[Name] nodded her head and stood up to her full height. She lightly brushed the dirt off of her kimono and apologized loudly, “I am sorry for my interruption. I will not do it again, Naobito-sama.” 

“That’s the sign for you two to get outta here,” Naoya sneered at the little girls and they ran off together. 

[Name] watched them leave silently with sad eyes. All they wanted to do was dance and hear her sing. And all she wanted was to see them happy. ‘This family is truly a curse,’ [Name] reminded herself. 

“Now do your job and escort us,” Naobito commanded and [Name] briskly walked up to the males with her head down. She touched Naobito’s elbow and Naoya’s forearm, a bubble formed around their bodies to protect them from her teleportation. 

The three of them disappeared within a blink of an eye. The bubbles popped and [Name] left a puddle of petals where she stood. They arrived at the entrance of the school where [Name] saw Suguru and Satoru walking up to them. 

Naobito leaned down and whispered in her ear, his words making her body heat up in anger. But being the polite girl she was, she bit her tongue back. His threat replayed in her mind, 'Do your best to not tell them what happened or else the twins will suffer a harsh punishment.’

Satoru and Suguru noticed the disheveled state their friend was in. The sleeve of her left arm was ripped off, her hair was slightly a mess and there was dirt on her pretty kimono where she looked like she was on her knees. This wasn’t the image of her, this was a tainted image that made their blood boil. 

“Satoru, do not do anything that can make her suffer for it.” Suguru whispered in a fashion that was more discreet than Naobito’s. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he slouched as he walked keeping the unbothered look on his face. 

Meanwhile Satoru was no longer walking in his relaxed state. Instead he started to size up the males standing on the sides of [Name]’s intimidated form. How could he keep his cool when the girl he was falling for was in a state of- 

“Where are you two headed?” [Name] asked, her voice was even and fair. She was holding herself up and Satoru knew for a fact that she was playing along with whatever that old man told her. He stopped in front of the trio with Suguru staying next to him. 

“We are going on a mission,” Suguru simply answered. 

[Name] tilted her head and looked around for a certain girl, “Shoko isn’t tagging along?” 

“The mission only calls for Satoru and I.” 

[Name] nodded her head and gestured to the males next to her, “Excuse me, this is Naobito-sama and Naoya-san, they are from the Zen’in Family and they-” 

“What happened to your sleeve?”  Satoru interrupted as he stepped forward and took her hand in his. He selfishly turned off his infinity and his fingers dragged up her arm leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. [Name] shivered and was self conscious of everyone’s gazes. Two were looking for answers and the other two were daring her to tell the truth. 

“You know the twins I mentioned before? Well we were playing around and my sleeve got caught on a tree branch! It’s actually quite a funny story!” [Name] laughed, but it quickly quieted down when Satoru was looking at her intently. His round glasses slid to the tip of his nose and his piercing baby blue eyes locked with her [e.color] ones. 

“I’m sure it is,” He hummed and let go of her arm. He pushed his glasses back to their correction position and he backed up with a few strides. “Well, what is going on with you today?”

[Name]’s heart dropped as she wasn’t expecting Satoru to ask. Normally he would go on his merry way and ask about her day later. They would travel for some sweets and laugh about their silly missions. But this wasn’t a mission. This was her life and she knew he was going to remind her of that.

“Well, you see,” [Name] tried to formulate a sentence that would ease Satoru into listening to her. Although, Naoya had other plans. The future head of the Zen’in Clan stepped up and glared at Satoru. “We are here on official business, but if you must insist on what we are here for then let me be the one to tell you. [Name]’s hand is up for marriage for any of the top sorcerer clan leaders to take.”

“So any of the top clan leaders can drop their name in the hat?” Satoru asked curiously with a hand under his chin. 

Naoya looked at the white haired male as if he was dumb, “Of course they can, did you not just hear me?”

Satoru smirked and put his hands on his hips, “Well that is a damn good thing to hear because I want to be the one to marry her!” He laughed at the faces of the trio and Suguru shook his head with a smirk. This wasn’t going to get her in trouble, it was going to unsettle the other clan leaders fighting to be her husband though. 

“A-ah, Satoru, you cannot just say that!” [Name] scolded her friend with a blush on her face. 

Satoru playfully shrugged his shoulders and decided to make Naoyo look like a fool one more time, “What~ We already danced together under the stars and shared-” 

“Alright that’s enough out of your mouth, Please excuse us,” Suguru expertly covered Satoru’s mouth and began dragging his friend away from the stupefied trio. Satoru waved at [Name] then blew her a kiss, “I’ll miss you, my love!” 

“Stop talking, you idiot.” Suguru growled out and they were finally out of sight. 

Naobito looked down at the shy teenage girl and questioned her, “What was he going on about? Dancing under the stars and what else?” 

[Name] cleared her throat and began walking towards the faculty building with the males following after her, “Don’t listen to that bickering male. We should all know by now, Satoru likes to get under the skin of people to rile them up. We fell for it, so we aren’t any better than he is.” 

“You promise that you aren’t tainted by that bumbling fool?” Naobito asked, he was suspicious of the relationship between the girl and boy now. He was sure that the Gojo leader wouldn’t fall for anyone considering that the male is so full of himself. 

[Name] was taken back by Naobito’s questioned and answered him truthfully, “I promise that I have not engaged in intercourse with anyone outside of a marriage. I don’t plan to either. I will remain loyal to my future husband.” 

“I will send in a request for a doctor to do a check up on you. I want to make sure you aren’t lying. All the prospects will be there to see it.” 

“Of course, Naobito-sama.” 

[Name] cursed at Satoru silently for making a fool out of her. Now she has to visit a doctor to feel her hymen. What a disturbing moment for her! And it has to be seen by old men along with Naoya! 

‘Satoru, I hate you!’

>>>>>>>

I switched up the Zen'in-san with Naoya-san and Zen'in-sama to Naobito-sama because it was easier to distinguish them.

Song credit goes to The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Naobito did want to get on [Name]'s good side, but he royally messed it up by laying a hand on her.

Yes, Mai and Maki saw [Name] as a mother figure, I mean she is great with children! Ah, I cannot wait to write out her beginning relationship with Megumi!!

[twig-tea]

Thank you for the tag in your post, @doublel27! This is a great example of why tagging is polite and vagueposting is rude (I'm going to use this as a teachable moment so bear with me): You've made reference to several stances that I don't hold and linked back to my post as evidence I do, but because you've tagged me, I can now clear the record. I might choose to ignore a tag sometimes, and tumblr can't be relied on to actually alert the person who was tagged reliably, but the point is the tag generally gives me the visibility and the choice; and the link lets people see for themselves what I said, so they can make the determination themselves even if I didn't bother to clarify. If you'd made this post without linking or tagging me, your readers would have to take your word for what my point was and I'd have no way to know you were misrepresenting my position. Whether or not I'd said on main to tag me, using my (or anyone's) words in a post critiquing them without attributing them or tagging the source is rude, and it feels awful to experience. I appreciate you taking the feedback in the original thread and tagging me directly so that I could see this.

You invoked my We Are post specifically as an example of criticism of We Are and Perfect 10 Liners (which, for the record, I haven't written anything about the latter, but I'm glad my post has you thinking about them both in conversation with each other and hopefully trends at large) that informed the perspectives of @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles which you've represented as being: shows which don't meet their metric of good should not be engaged with or are ruining the genre. In fact, in my own post (which you've stated has informed their opinion), I started that post with the opposite statement:

I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people.

I went on to say:

...Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content.

I also am certain that both Shan and Jay know New Siwaj is a queer creator because I laid out in full New Siwaj's history creating shows as a gay creator (which you mentioned as a kind of 'gotcha' in your post) to get to the crux of my concern, which was this explicitly:

I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

I then brought in other examples. The point I make in this post is that there has been a pattern of shows from ~the last year adapting novels but not including specific aspects around queer conflict from the source material in the adaptation. I am judging these adaptations against the Thai novels they are based on, and looking at the active choices the adapters are making in the context of the markets in which they operate--which, for the record, is the opposite of ignoring their agency. I would say the same statement for Shan's and Turtles' posts (linked for convenience). And to assume Shan and Turtles only took away the critical aspect of my post or that they aren't making their own judgments of the BL scene at large seems like a disingenuous interpretation.

The part of your response and the original post by @maybe-boys-do-love that bothers me is that it implies that I think (I'm now assuming MBDL was responding to me among apparently several others, since you've invoked me in this response and suggested you've been speaking to him about it, but without having been referenced in the original post I have no way of knowing--just to again underscore my frustrations with vagueposting) that only my way of seeing shows is correct or valuable; that I conflate sex scenes with queerness; that I think BL romcoms are less valuable, less queer, or less good than more serious toned takes; or that these shows should not exist or be made in future. I would hope it's clear from my own writing that I don't think any of that, and that anyone reading @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles's posts would understand they also do not think any of this. I'm not sure who either of you are actually mad at, but the ideas you're fighting are not written in any of the things I've said or anything I've reblogged from Shan or Turtles. And the insinuation that the criticism of the writing of these shows holds some kind of power to prevent others from enjoying or making series like this is frankly giving any of us too much credit.

Looks like while I was writing @wen-kexing-apologist wrote a great summary of the points made in the original posts by Shan and Turtles in the comments section of their post, so anyone reading can feel free to go there to read a 2-comment summary if you don't want to go back and read the full set of threads for yourselves.

It's not a good use of energy to argue about how someone chose to interpret my words or the words of others, so I'll stop there. I'm happy to discuss the points that I've made in my writing, but defending against bad faith interpretations of my or other people's posts is not what I want to spend any more time doing.

[xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx]

To anon leaving me novels: I'm not reading essays that begin with insults from anonymous cowards. I hope you're happy to know that you wasted your time and I deleted it as soon as I saw how chocked full of ad hominems it was. Did not read past the first and last sentences. Slurp my entire asshole. I have no respect for you and would like to be left alone, please. I only have respect for people who are kind, respectful, and/or attach their name to their opinions. You're just flapping off at the mouth and I don't have time to break down my thoughts on BJ2 for you when...I've done it already.

Maybe if you spoke to me courteously, I would return the favor. If you want to talk about aspects of my theory, you're welcome to reblog whichever parts of it interest you and engage me in intellectual conversation from that angle, civil debate even if there's something you would like to concur.

I beg you to please take that option. That would be so stimulating. My brain is starving for something to chew on.

But what you are doing right now is rude and annoying. Refraining from cursing doesn't make you any less fucking annoying, nor does it raise your moral highground. I have a child, I'm busy, and I've already made my disgust with this fandom clear on multiple points.

I think you're a nasty gaslighting cunt tbr. The worst kind. You're everything that's wrong with the internet and this fandom in particular, and you're the reason I can't engage with the illiterate, uncultured, dumb fucks flooding the tag. Exhausting.

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

why are you hiding behind a fake smile 🙂

Well I rarely smile, but when I do in regards to fake smile it's because I figure it's polite manners. The world and the people in it while I do tend to opt for belief in humanity the reality is people don't care about other people in general unless it directly affects them.

Would you rather see someone smile and attempt to be cheerful to brighten day or someone whose melancholy?

The world and news is full of sadness daily it's part of the cycle of life but I'd rather try to see the good and happiness as well as attempt to be that for others on the occasion I feel like interacting socially or when I must engage in society.

Why stranger would you care? It's not like you'd ever notice me if we sitting side by side on a bus or anything. Even if you did, what's the chance of you being one of the overly enthusiastic individuals that greets everyone or attempts to strike up conversation with silent individuals?

Even assuming you were the type, as an adult many individuals would refrain from such actions unless it be an appropriate environment like say bar, team building related workshop, hobbies of your choice and that involve in being in a group setting.

Anyways apologizes if I came off a bit rude or snow queen cold, you caught me feeling moody and I wish you the best random stranger.

[galaxybird4]

I need to bring this in attention cause not only does it annoys me it saddens me

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I have experienced a few people on different art platforms of unacceptable behavior towards me and my artistic creations i draw . I respectfully request that any individuals who are disrespecting others' art plaform to be refrain from posting offensive comments on my page or anyone else's page in any art platforms. Furthermore, I expect individuals to maintain a respectful communication and act to their age when in private chats or public messages below the art work that is posted, when it is addressing my art or other artists art work .Although the opinions about my art may differ, I acknowledge and respect the validity of others' opinions and do not hold them accountable or get mad if they do not appreciate the art i draw. Nonetheless, I would like the respect to be maintained towards me as an artist and as a person and this expectation extends to all artists out there that had rude people run across their stuff , cuase regardless of a artists level of experience includiny my experience of art level we all do work so hard and strive everday to get where they are. So as i kindly request that if your a person who has intentions to cause harm and be disrespectful to the artists out there that you refrain from engaging and commenting your mean and disrespectful conversation and that you the option to block or leave me or any artists out there cause you don't like their art style alone" I and other artists strive to maintain a safe and respectful environment for artistic expression and love to their community and to make friends.

[monsoileil]

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[femininenachos]

Who makes the first move in vacation au

Previously

The taverna gets livelier after midnight, when the staff mix with the patrons and the wine really starts flowing. Carafes of cheap yet delicious local red go out at every table, compliments of the owners, along with platters of cheese and olives. Despite her earlier protestations (it would be rude to refuse such generous hospitality, after all), Clarke partakes freely and by the time Octavia returns from an extended trip to the bathroom, she has a pleasant alcohol buzz going.

“Did you get lost on the way? Or did the squid disagree with you?” Clarke smirks into the rim of her glass.

Octavia shoots her a droll look, but it’s soon replaced by a sneaky, private little smile as she retakes her seat.

“What?” Clarke asks, instantly suspicious.

“Nothing bad. We've just been invited to a bar by Lincoln and the rest of the wait staff. He’s even hotter up close, by the way, it’s insane.” Octavia fans herself. “Whew.”

“Mm, pass,” Wells says. “I’ll have to bow out gracefully. It’s been a long day, plus I really want to hit the archaeological sites early tomorrow before the cruise ship hordes descend.”

Octavia sends him a pitying glance, but refrains from insulting his nerdery. She turns her focus to Clarke instead. Waggles her eyebrows. “How about it? Lexa will be there…”

Clarke’s face flushes hot, but she hesitates.

“You should go,” Wells says with an encouraging smile. “At least to make sure O doesn’t get abducted and killed by a stranger whose attractiveness doesn’t preclude him from being a psychopath.”

“Well, that went dark,” Octavia mutters under her breath. “But, yeah, we can be each other’s wingwomen.”

She clasps her hands together, silently begging please, please, please.

Clarke vacillates back and forth; conflicted. On the one hand, she’s bone tired, more tipsy than she cares to admit on only a handful of drinks, and she would kind of like to join Wells on his excursion in the morning. But on the flip side… she hasn’t had any action in six months and Lexa is so, so fucking hot.

While she’s debating it internally, the object of her desire saunters into her field of vision, and Clarke loses her train of thought once she sees that Lexa has changed into open toe sandals, black denim cut-offs and a black t-shirt that reveals an intriguing piece of ink that peeks out from under her sleeve. Her hair is down, falling in soft, flowing waves down her back, and Clarke has a sudden craving to run her fingers through those gorgeous locks. 

She caves.

“Two drinks, max.”

~*~

The bar is an open air spot that’s just a short stroll from the taverna and overlooks the harbour from a vantage point, providing a stunning panoramic vista. A slew of dinky little blue and white fishing boats are docked, bobbing in the water, gleaming amid the pretty harbour lights, with the inky darkness of the sea stretching into the horizon beyond.

On the decks over in the corner a DJ plays soulful, laidback deep house, infectious beats that are hard to resist shimmying to. Lantern lights are strung up between olive trees, adding to the mellow atmosphere. The patrons, a younger crowd that’s a mix of tourists and locals, cluster together in small groups drinking beers and colourful cocktails. 

Clarke slowly nurses a vodka soda and lime, feeling very much like the third wheel while Octavia and Lincoln engage in flirty exchanges. From what Clarke has gleaned, he seems far from the murdering type, a gentleness to him that belies his bulky stature. Bless his heart, he keeps trying to include Clarke in the conversation, but Octavia is adept at commanding his attention with the brash confidence she exudes and her frequent habit of touching his biceps when she speaks.

Besides, Clarke’s mind is elsewhere, conscious of being watched. It makes her skin prickle. Fills her with nervous energy.

They keep sharing glances. 

Every time Clarke looks over, Lexa is staring right back. Curious eyes drawn to one another, scanning up and down. Something thrilling about the way they’re each too restrained to act on their obvious interest—that, or they’re both too stupidly stubborn to make the first move.

But Clarke feels the anticipation building.

Tastes it in the air.

Even though Lexa is with friends, she still stands a little aloof and apart. Now and then, she’s pulled back into their boisterous chatter and jokes, but Clarke finds that intense gaze on her time and again, and it makes her tingle all over.

“And you?” Lincoln asks, jolting her out of her trance. He nods towards the glass in her hand, a small smile on his lips. “Can I buy you another?”

She meets his smile with a distracted one of her own. “Oh, no. I’m good, thanks.”

Once he heads for the bar, her eyes flick in Lexa’s direction again, and Clarke‘s mouth runs dry, noting the graceful line of Lexa’s throat as she swigs from a beer bottle, long fingers wrapped around the neck.

Never in her life has Clarke been so envious of an inanimate object…

An arm swings around her shoulders, startling her and sending a little vodka mix sloshing over the side of the glass onto her hand, and she scowls at Octavia’s unapologetic expression.

“This is physically painful to watch, Griffin. Go talk to her, please.”

“And say what?”

“Just be your charming self. And if that doesn’t work,” Octavia tugs on the neckline of Clarke’s summer dress, “Use the girls.”

“I can’t just sidle up and flash my cleavage at her.”

“Really? Because that’s definitely a thing you’ve done in the past, and you’ve also had a good success rate with it.”

Clarke half-shoves Octavia, raising a wicked laugh. Even so, she allows herself to be turned around by the shoulders and pushed in the direction of Lexa and her group, weak complaints falling on deaf ears.

On her slow approach, Clarke sees Lexa straighten up, pulling that plump bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes trip over Clarke’s form, and for some reason…

Clarke loses her nerve.

At the last second she wheels away, making a beeline for the restroom. It’s empty, thankfully, and she sets down her purse on the counter, rummaging through it to find the tube of lipstick. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she reapplies the colour and presses her lips together to blot, eyeing her reflection critically in the long mirror above the sinks. She primps and preens, giving her hair a little zhuzh. Turns this way and that to admire the fit of her dress, running her hands over her curves.

And, yeah, she’s feeling herself.

She’s got this.

Confidence renewed, she struts out with an extra sway in her hips only to find the space Lexa occupied is now empty. Her heart sinks. Annoyed at herself for squandering the opportunity and a little upset about being abandoned, she casts her eyes around until she spots Octavia by the steps that lead to the street. She beckons Clarke over with a wave.

“Thank God. For a hot second I thought you’d left without me,” Clarke grumbles.

Octavia sends her a look like: girl, please.

“Where’d everyone go?”

“Chill. They’re just waiting for us on the curb side. Linc’s friends want to head on to a club. You in?”

The thought has barely entered Clarke’s mind when Octavia preempts her. “Don’t worry, Lexa’s going too.”

Clarke tries not to react too much, deflecting with a teasing drawl. “Linc, huh? You’ve known him all of five minutes and we’re shortening his name already? Must be serious.”

But unlike Clarke, Octavia is completely unflappable and unfazed. Just flips Clarke the finger and glides away.

~*~

Fewer in number now, their group winds through the labyrinthian jumble of cobbled streets that make up the oldest part of the village. Squat, rustic, pastel-coloured buildings with blue or terracotta doors line the narrow streets, adorned with hanging baskets, trailing vines, and potted plants on window sills.

While Clarke soaks the quaint character of it all in, Lexa smoothly falls into step beside her.

“Your boyfriend didn’t want to come out tonight?” Lexa asks. Eyes ahead. A slight pout on her lips.

Clarke almost trips. “Boyfriend?”

Lexa looks directly at her then, and Clarke nearly loses her footing again on the uneven paving.

“The guy you were with at dinner?”

Clarke’s brows leap up her forehead. 

“Wells?” She barks out a sudden laugh. “Wells isn’t—” She chuckles again. “No. There’s no boyfriend. I am very much free and single.”

Is that what was holding Lexa back? Crossed wires and mistaken assumptions. How gallant.

Lexa studies her a moment longer. Glances away, then back. Something vital and alive dancing in her eyes. Pleased. “Me too.”

Good sits on the tip of Clarke’s tongue, but she holds it in, if not the little smile that follows, her mouth pulling to one side. 

They walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, their knuckles brushing once or twice before Lexa catches Clarke’s fingers and lets them entwine. A loose, gentle grip, but enough to send the butterflies in Clarke’s stomach into overdrive.

Because it’s such an assured move, and Clarke isn’t used to things being this easy. There’s far too much bullshit around dating, the plethora of apps, the red flags and rules and expectations, so Clarke had chosen to largely opt out of the whole affair. Not that she really has the time or energy with the grueling hours she puts in at the hospital, how she can never quite let go of the heaviness she brings home with her, two qualities that aren’t exactly appealing to most people. 

(Finn told her as much when they broke up, having soon learned that the reality of being with a doctor is not nearly as sexy as Grey’s makes it out to be.)

But there’s freedom in being in a foreign land, where she can be a different, more carefree version of herself, the version that would absolutely entertain the idea of a meaningless hookup with a beautiful, mysterious local. Even if this is a well-tread playbook for Lexa, picking up horny tourists at work for kicks, Clarke is 100% willing to be a notch on that particular bedpost.

It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know the first thing about this girl.

She wants Lexa. 

Wants that mouth and those hands on her body.

Wants to taste those lips and feel all that tan skin pressed against every inch of her own.

She gets her wish at the club. 

Next

[thefloofartist]

CanonSeeker - RWBY’s very own Chris-chan

Hi, this is Floof here. Here's my CanonSeeker/AnswerSeeker/FallingLeaf4/Eren/YehUda story because I'm seeing him spread lies about me and my friends here on Tumblr. Since I deleted my old Twitter account, I have gone out of my way to avoid all kinda of drama because I don't dabble or engage with that anymore, but it seems Seeker has forced my hand.

Where should I start? Pretty much everyone's spoken about what he's been up to. From harassing artists, to stalking RWBY fans and critics alike over various platforms on the internet, Seeker can't take "no" for an answer. If anyone says anything that's even the tiniest, unrealistically small margin that could be interpreted as "being negative about RWBY", he will blow up in people's faces and post about them in the worst manner possible. He's aggressive, rude, manipulative, and so two-faced that the second his "friends" do a slip up, he turns on them. When he’s confronted, he changes his account names, deletes tweets/messages to hide the evidence to make his opposition look bad. He will also engage in conversation with his sockpuppet accounts to pretend they’re not him, and once the sockpuppet is discovered to be him, he deletes the account or renames them to hide the evidence again.

Why does Seeker do this? He fervently believes what he does will make the RWBY fanbase a "positive safe space". It's very nonsensical considering Seeker's choice of actions, but he's religiously devoted to this idea. So much so that he has spent thousands upon thousands of dollars commissioning Taiyang x Summer fanart because he believes it's an underrepresented ship and wants canon confirmation that Taiyang is Ruby's father, something very few people dispute to begin with. At minimum, he has spent upwards of $4,000. At most, he’s spent over $10,000. On RWBY fanart.

The reason I learned Seeker existed was from fellow FRWBY artists seeing him spam the comment’s section with various sockpuppet accounts. Fallingleaf4, Eren, Yeh Uda, etc. He would post comment after comment with nothing but insults and making outrageous claims that were quickly debunked by other commentators, pointing out he never bothered to watch the content he was insulting to begin with. Seeker continued doing this for months on end. I had been exercising restraint and refrained from making a public post about him at the time since I did not want to involve myself with RWBY drama. Not to mention other FRWBY artists had already talked about him publicly so I felt that I didn’t have to involve myself. Fast forward to the present, I found out he made a close friend of mine very uncomfortable and insulted another friend of mine for artwork they had drawn which was the last straw. I compiled just about everything I knew about him and made this post here: https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBYcritics/comments/tp2u2f/answerseeker_the_epitome_of_toxic_positivity/

Seeker didn’t take too well to that. He claimed and spread the lie that I “doxxed” him. In reality, all I did was talk about his actions and named every single account of his that I knew of and provided links to all of them, suggesting to users that they block him. I did not provide links or name any account that might lead to sensitive information about him it was a post to warn people about his two-faced antics. I'm no longer part of the RWBY community, to the point that I actively block RWBY fans on sight with a few exceptions (aka, very close friends). I don't want to see RWBY on my timeline. I don't want to interact with RWBY or its community. The most interaction I've done with RWBY for the past two years is design environments and draw artwork for Celtic Phoenix's "Fixing RWBY" series. I don't make RWBY animation analysis videos anymore. (The most recent one was a video started in very early 2020 that I begrudgingly finished late last year.) I’d rather just stream games or stream drawing art. I don’t want to waste more time bickering about a cartoon that no longer appeals to me. People are/were tired of me bickering about RWBY and I’m tired of bickering about it too.

With that said, I'd like Seeker to stop necroing posts about me from 3+ years ago that I have long since denounced and apologized for. I'd like Seeker to stop stalking me and my friends on social media. Seeker is far more toxic than I ever was at my worst, as Seeker is a 32 year old man harassing so many people that it's now become a matter of who Seeker HASN'T harassed yet. He cannot be trusted. He cannot be reasoned with. He's a liar, a fraud, a fake, and I don't want anything to do with him when the worst I've done to offend him so is call him out for his horrible actions towards people I know.

People like Seeker are why I actively stay far, FAR away from the RWBY fanbase. I much rather prefer retweeting and posting about floofs and cute animals. I can finally be myself on Twitter instead of an edgy, shitty dumbass who was an asshole most of the time. Fluff is love, fluff is life.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

P.S.: For context on the one picture he’s necroing that I drew of Blake kissing Adam over Yang... That’s an Utena reference. It’s also one that surprisingly supports Bumblebee. For context, Jury (Yang) is in love with Shiori (Blake), but Shiori believes Jury is in love with Random Guy (Adam), so Shiori takes him away from Jury as Shiori believes Jury is in love with him. Except, Jury (Yang) was actually in love with Shiori (Blake) all along, and she’s hurt by this cruel betrayal.

[ofstarfleet]

anyway spock is on the brain so important info about spawk.

readmore bc length

vulcans can far better than humans in canon and they can hear high and low frequencies that the human ears cannot. Spock inherited the full range of vulcan senses including enhanced sight and sound. he can hear conversations through the enterprise wall and knows all the scutlebutt that is said about him and the rumors. he pretends to not know these things.

vulcans are deeply emotional beings, even more so than humans. spock has a hard time processing his emotions and uses vulcan teachings to suppress rather than process them. for him, the most esiest emotion he can process is degrees of anger/irritation. it does take a great deal to actually make him angry and he usually adept as diverting himself from that path by leaving the situation/walking away/ignoring it. to make spock angry to the point of lashing out takes a great deal.

spock finds the starfleet uniforms uncomfortable. the sensory feeling of the clothing on his skin is uncomfortable. he is used to vulcan dress and the robes they wear made of different fabric.

spock's quarters mimic the vulcan environment, it's HOT.

spock favors the long sleeved uniform because he is always cold. he finds the standard human environmental controls to be cold.

spock is warm to the touch, thank of a cat, when they lay on you, they're little heat sucking magnets - that's spock.

spock's personal logs are written/recorded in vulcan.

as stated in spock's about: i heavily play into the theme of spock's indentity and the conflict between his human and vulcan half. as such I play spock as disliking and even sometimes hating his humanity because of his experiences on vulcan. the degree to which he dislikes his humanity varies between tos, snw, and aos but it is a constant. he feels ashamed of his human half and has deep rooted issues because of bullying in childhood and the vulcan attitude towrds humans which is quite frankly not good. vulcans are very slightly xenophobic and its been shown in canon that while they put on a good show, they are still prejudiced. spock is affected by that but it is mostly towards himself and not others. he sees himself as truly alien belonging in neither world. tbh humans are no better and he has also received some bullying and rude comments from them as well.

I play vulcans as a whole as a nonbinary race who use they/them pronouns in addition to she/him. it differs from vulcan to vulcan. spock is he/they and T'Pol as an honorable mention here is she/they.

spock tends to call his partners and close friends by vulcan terms of endearment.

vulcans are touch averse, but as spock is only half vulcan, though he is touch averse, compared to most vulcans he is more accepting of small touches by those close to him. given vulcans are touch telepaths, he refrains from touch so as not to unintentionally sense the feelings and thoughts of others. though he has mental guards against this, it is still easier to avoid touch all together.

spock's love language is acts of servitude/love like bringing you a cup of tea when you're trying to relax, or giving you a massage and spock knows how to give a really good massage.

vulcans require less rest than humans and can serve in longer shifts aboard starships.

vulcans by nature as not as outwardly "loving". vulcans do not usually engage in public displays of affection or affection in general. it is considered unusual to do so as it is "logical" that one love their significant other without showing it. because of this spock is reserved when it comes to such displays, but he does show them in his own way.once a muse has discerned spock's way of showing love as his love language it is obvious that the kind gesture is meant as an act of love. he will say those words in private to his partner and he considers the act of touch as one of the greatest ways he can display his love considering vulcans - again - are mostly averse to touch.

Spock does not hate his father, but the coldness he feels from him coupled with his childhood and never quite feeling "vulcan enough" has left them estranged and not on speaking terms. but spock deeply feels misunderstood by Sarek and that he and his father will never see eye to eye. he does however, long for nothing more than to hear Sarek say he is proud of him and that he is proud to have spock as his son. its very human and spock is embarrassed by this feeling. he doesn't know how to explain or deal with it so he tends to simply....ignore it.

taking snw into canon: spock has not dealt with his grief of losing Michael and he never addresses their loss.

Spock has had the chance to have his own command and eventually he does but it's not until Kirk is no longer captain of the enterprise. as long as Kirk is in command, spock will be his first officer.

[liminalwings]

Working With Dragons: Making Contact.

So, you want to work with dragons, and either aren't sure how to talk to them to begin with, or have had one encounter and aren't sure how to call them again on your own terms. Seeing as how we're physical and they're not, it can be a bit tricky, unless you're naturally psychically gifted.

If you're not innately gifted with some sort of psychic sense, then there's some work to be done with developing said senses, or learning to use certain tools. After all, it’s hard to work with someone if you can’t talk to them. It's also a good practice to simply pay attention to the more subtle things in life, asking for and looking for signs. It could even be possible that while you didn't think you had any ability, you were using one without realizing what it was. Claircognizance is very good at going unrecognized for years. There are many good resources out there such as:

https://pastel-radiance.tumblr.com/post/666830046327095296/basics-of-psychic-sensation-the-clairs

https://www.mindbodygreen.com/articles/the-4-types-of-intuition-and-how-to-tap-into-each

https://the-taurus-witch.tumblr.com/post/692528591861366784/discernment

https://windvexer.tumblr.com/post/679195061198733312/discernment-lets-chat-about-it

https://windvexer.tumblr.com/post/679255774199971840/chicken-question-on-discernment-and-practicing

Next is protection. Here's where I'm on a fine line between what's commonly told to beginners: New Age books will forget to mention protection at all because obviously anything that will answer you is love and light and only works for the highest good, while some people ear-deep in spirit work will foam at the mouth if you don't know ten different protection and banishing methods because anything can answer and that's how you get attachments and attacks. 

While there is merit to the saying "don't call up what you can't put back", everyone's situation is different in terms of how much protection is actually necessary. If you're someone who is sensitive and a bit of a magnet for malicious beings, then absolutely yes use protections when trying to contact dragons. If, like me, your spiritual life is drama-free, then knowing how to protect yourself is 100% advised, but using your discernment could be the only protection you need. I would recommend using protection to begin with, but if you're able to make a strong connection with a dragon ally and learn about them, you'll find that as time goes on, defensive measures aren't really needed in this situation. 

When you feel you're ready and receptive enough, make the call. This may be done as a ritual, or a meditation, or simply putting out a mental call. The main idea is to make clear that dragons are invited into your space. Also make clear what your intention is: a working relationship, asking for guidance, or even companionship. Sometimes dragons are the best friends a lonely 11-year-old could ask for (yes personal experience). 

In any case, the key to success is respect; just like other people, no one is going to want to stick around if you are commanding, rude, and demanding. Even though you made it clear that you're looking for a dragon to, say, be a guide for you, any dragon that shows up at this first meeting isn't obligated to agree to it. Best case scenario is you already had a dragon with you and this is their first opportunity to make themselves known to you because you're finally looking for them. There's even a good chance that they've been the one quietly nudging you this way the whole time. 

Keep in mind that not every dragon you encounter will necessarily want to work with you; some practitioners may live or work in an area that seems to act as a spiritual highway and may meet several dragons (among other beings) who are simply passing through, or you may otherwise notice a few dragons dropping in out of curiosity, but do no more than that. You can engage them in some polite conversation and ask questions, but refrain from making demands or placing expectations on them if they do not explicitly confirm they are there to help you. And if they don't want to interact at all, it's best to respect that decision as well. After all, even normal people on the street don't owe you their time. 

If, however, after you've put out the call and been sitting there forever and get no sign that anything responded, it's okay. You can try again another day, maybe even try to find a place that puts you in a better, more magical mindset. Parks and nature trails, any nature setting is ideal, or any place that you feel has power. It may take a few sessions before you find a dragon willing to work with you, as they may be taking the time to observe you. 

Worst case (and least likely) scenario, you get a dragon or something masquerading as such, and you feel unsafe for any reason: stay calm, or at the least don't let your fear take over. Firmly but politely thank them and tell them to leave. You know those protections and banishments I said were good to know but maybe not necessary? If your guest refuses to leave or even attacks, they're necessary now. To be honest, having something malicious show up is something I've never had to deal with so far. Some dragons may not be truly malicious and may see this as testing you, but you'll never know until after, and it's best to protect yourself either way. 

Overall, it's a good idea to have some way to take notes. Keep a record of your experiences, especially if you're given a name to call your new ally by, and any other bit of information that seems important. You’ll find that contacting your dragon allies and even meeting new ones gets easier with practice. 

[notesfromthepalace]

Boughetto is not the Standard! 

What is "Boughetto" anyway! Brunch today was quick due to disappointing company - but as I type my heart away I'm listening to this Jazz playlist that I made a few weeks ago that I didn't know I desperately needed.

Yes, "Boughetto". According to the Urban Dictionary, Boughetto is someone who is wealthy but has poor mannerisms and no etiquette. The person who said this wasn't wealthy though.

(This playlist is so perfect for the Fall season and days at the local coffee shops - in love). I have had this neighbor for about a year now and she is very kind - a little ghetto (beaucoup if you're a French speaker). But in the essence of myself being a nice person, I was just like "maybe I should ask her to brunch. We're both working professional women in the city - why not?! What could possibly go wrong?" - EVERYTHING!

I was dressed casually (and yes I know "casual" means something different to everyone). I had jeans that had a few skids in them, Uggs, simple brown leotard top accompanied with a beige trench coat, golden shades and a Louis Vuitton bag - light makeup and hair with some volume, layers and life.

I walked into the establishment and I didn't see her at first - that should've been a sign since we were the only Black women there, she should've stuck out like a sore thumb. But she was so poorly dressed. That's why I didn't see her. She had on these jeans that stopped under her muffin top and a sweatshirt she obviously doesn't sweat in because it was too small. And she was on the phone being loud - which is two pet peeves of mine. One, anytime I go to dinner, Bruch, lunch, whatever, I ALWAYS put my phone away. I think it's rude to be on your phone when you're suppose to be engaging in conversations. Two, speak with your inside voice - eye roll.

Then we're sitting - mind you she already ordered a drink. I asked for a coffee, filled only half way up so I could add sugar and cream. Then she goes "CAN WE ORDER NOW!" - like girl!

We order, they take our menus, and they bring my coffee. I tell the waiter the cup is too full can you bring me another cup so I can dump half and she says "I'll take it - just bring her another one". The waiter was about to take the coffee and she then says "I SAID I'LL TAKE IT". He comes back with my new coffee and she's upset for some odd reason and says "so I can't get cream and sugar on a plate like she did?!" and I'm just thinking like you didn't even order a coffee.

Did I mention that when the waiter brought her cream and sugar she used the handle of the knife to stir the coffee - chilllllleeeee the absolute G H E T T O!!!

I can't even get into the rest of her poor mannerisms, just know I was highly embarrassed, annoyed and regretful.

She had made a comment about my appearance while we were eating like "omg girl - hair, nails, makeup - you're just all made up aren't you?!". I am trying so hard to refrain from swearing but at that point I really wanted to call her a female dog and just ask like "are you serious?!" - stank face and all.

I just brushed it off because I'm a lady but at the same time I should've left when she was on the phone at volume MAX.

Then she commented on my watch: "ooooh I see that gold watch girl it's nice" and when people make comments like that - I feel like you would set me up to get robbed, and I don't trust it.

We were leaving and walking away and she said to conclude "you're really bougie, I'm boughetto so I get it" NO! You don't get it!

I'll keep the rest of my comments to myself but the moral of the story here ladies is boughetto is not the standard, a standard, a way of living, etc - unless the standard for your life is in the pits of hell, literally.

Stay pretty, stay classy - and not boughetto.

With love,

Sarah Chanel

[firefliesintheskyline]

(Me, prompting myself under the shower : What if we take the popular “person A is drunk and asks person B to be their partner, person B laughs and answers by saying they are married already (without saying they are actually married to person A) and person A pouts” and add “what person B doesn’t know is that person A sees them interact with person C and thinks they are the significant other”)

So, I guess… enjoy???

(Now on AO3 !)

INTOXICATED (Nicky x Joe + the Immortal Family)

Their last mission in France had been extremely successful, so Andy wasn't entirely surprised to find 2 cases of champagne in front of their safe house. She had to admit that, while at first she had been very reluctant to give Copley the address, taking the risk to share the information had paid off nicely more than once. He also really didn’t need to know that this was only one of the half dozen properties they had in Paris and its surroundings.

“Well, I guess we are in for a big celebration tonight!” Quynh was enthusiastically emptying the first box and passing the bottles over to Booker, while Nile and Joe were already heading to the kitchen to get some glasses.

“Don’t start moping, Nicky,” Andy gave him her signature half smile, “you don’t have to drink, if you don’t want to.”

Nicky looked almost offended by her suggestion.

“Just because I have a very low tolerance, it doesn’t mean I have to refrain from alcohol entirely, Andromache.”

She shrugged, completely unbothered.

“If you say so.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

From her spot on the sofa, Andy let out a self-satisfied smirk when she noticed that Nicky was curled up into the armchair, looking comfortable and completely gone.

“Hush, love,” Quynh pinched her very lightly on the arm, “stop making fun of him. After all, you where the one who instigated the drinking.”

Andy gave her a pointed look. “I merely told him that he didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to.”

“Because you knew exactly what his reaction would be,” Quynh retorted, looking back at Nicky with fondness in her eyes, “I still don’t get how he could be the fiercest warrior in the room and yet be totally unaware of the tricks you play on him.”

“I didn’t play any trick,” Andy shook her head, “and you know it. He knows it. Nicky has been too tense lately, and I need him to loosen up a little.” She got up, heading for the kitchen to refill her empty glass. “And you can call him the 'fiercest warrior in the room’ only once I’m gone from this world.”

Quynh laughed quietly and scooped closer to Nile, who was lazily trying to engage Booker into an art debate. The frenchman was mostly content to listen, while resisting the urge to drift off to sleep.

Joe, who was sitting right next to him, was about to pitch in as well, when suddenly Nicky decided to get up from the armchair and drop himself unceremoniously into his partner’s lap.

“Hi.”

The room went quiet for about half a minute, before Nile tactfully started talking again, soon followed by both Booker and Quynh. However, it didn’t stop them from taking turns to glance back at the couple every once in a while.

“Well, hi to you.” Joe wasn’t used to Nicky being openly affectionate in front of their family, and wasn’t sure if he should indulge in this. He didn’t want Nicky to feel mortified the next morning. Still, he put his hands very lightly on each side of Nicky’s waist. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Nicky tilted his head on the side a little, looking at him with lust. “Would you care to join me?”

Joe was a little flushed by the situation, but couldn’t help the soft smile that escaped his lips. “I have to say, your proposition sounds extremely appealing, but if you think you can get my pants off of me that easily…” he trailed off, winking.

Now it was Nicky’s turn to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “You are very handsome. And I want you. Very much. And I think your body wants me too. So, if you accept to be my lover, I can bed you and make sweet love to you. Or rough love. Both. I think I would enjoy both very much.”

It took Joe a whole minute to register all the words that came out of Nicky’s mouth. His Nicky, who was always shy with words (but never with gestures), who took months to actually voice his love for Joe at the beginning of their shared journey, but was now apparently propositioning him in the middle of a room full of people.

The same Nicky who, in the meantime, was getting worried by the lack of response. “Please be assured that this wouldn’t be a one time occurrence, I wouldn’t dare deflower your body without promptly making an honest man out of you…"

At which point Joe couldn’t help it and burst into laughter. “Well, that is very noble of you,” he said, and then, just because he wanted to see how far he could push it, “but unfortunately I’m already united in wedlock.”

The color drained entirely from Nicky’s face, making it very clear that this was not the answer he was expecting. Joe immediately regretted his words, and was about to add more concerning the obvious piece of information that Nicky was missing, when he got distracted by Booker, who was laughing hard at one of Nile’s joke, squeezing Joe’s arm with both of his hands in the process and putting his forehead on his shoulder. “Did you hear it? Man, that was hilarious.”

Joe faintly registered that Nicky was moving from his lap and slopingly getting up, but didn’t want to be rude to the rest of his family. “I’m sorry, I was not listening, would you mind repeating it?”

While Booker was making himself more comfortable into his side, Joe vaguely noticed Nicky leaving the room, but decided to stay and listen to Nile before following him and explain the misunderstanding. Or at least that was the intention, spoiled completely by Nicky who came back in the room almost in a rush and vehemently slapped Booker with a glove.

For the second time of the night, the room went very, very quiet.

“I demand satisfaction!,” Nicky exclaimed in a loud voice, slurring only slightly and making sure that the attention of everyone was on him, “this man has been distracted in frivolous conversation for the entire night, and when I decided to make a move on his beloved, only then he reminded himself of his duty as a husband! But tonight, we will end this,” he said, his fierce eyes on Booker, “I challenge you to a duel.”

Nile was, surprisingly, the first one to break the silence. “Is this a regular thing?” she said, uncertain on how she should feel about the whole situation.

“No, it is not.” The mischievous light in Andy’s eyes was unmistakable. “Ladies, let’s go get the popcorns, we can’t miss this for anything in the world.”

“Boss, you can’t be serious,” Booker called after her, but was clearly ignored. He straightened himself up. “Nicky, come on, I’m n—“

“Not. Another. Word.” Nicky looked at him pointedly in the eyes, before dropping on one knee and taking Joe’s hands in his. “You have to forgive me, I have acted out of pride, without even asking in which direction your heart was pointing…"

“You. It was pointing at you. Tonight, tomorrow, always. I would always choose you,” Joe didn’t hesitate for a single moment, and was rewarded by Nicky’s beautiful smile.

“Well, let the challenge begin!” Nicky pointed at his sword and at Joe’s scimitar, set on the wall on a corner of the room. “We have the weapons, now we just need some… space.”

“I’m glad our backyard is huge,” Quynh took the blades and started walking outside, “chop chop guys, we don’t have all night! Some of us want to use the early morning hours for better activities.” She winked at Andy, while Nile was rolling her eyes, clearly over their not-so-subtle flirting.

They were followed by Nicky and Joe, while Booker was contemplating the idea of making a run for it and loose himself in the Parisian night. He shook the thought out of his head and joined the rest of them outside, aware of the fact that sometimes his family could be too goddamn much.

“It’s going to be a duel to first blood! Since, well, death wouldn’t stick anyway…” Quynh clapped her hands, excitedly, “good luck to the contenders!” she yelled, before going to sit next to Andy and starting to eat the popcorns with way too much enthusiasm.

Nicky was about to reach for the sword, but Joe pushed the scimitar in his hands instead. “A token of love,” he whispered tenderly, before giving Nicky a light kiss on the cheek.

Booker took the sword and sent a clearly exasperated look in their direction, but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips. He really did admire the lengths these two would go to keep their love alive, he just wished they didn’t need to involve the entire family on a regular basis.

Andy gave the signal, and soon enough they started to fight. In a normal situation, Nicky would have had the upper hand, but he was still heavily inebriated, and only his consummated skills as a warrior made it seem like he was doing perfectly fine. He shielded himself from a couple of blows and was about to strike, but he got distracted by Joe’s anxious stare and tight grip on Nile. That was all Booker needed to make a cut on his forearm.

Cheers erupted from both Quynh and Andy, who run to Booker and started clapping on his shoulders, while Joe rushed on Nicky’s side. “My love, are you alright? I should have not given you the scimitar, not after you had so much alcohol…”

Nicky put a hand on Joe's cheek, stroking him softly. “Don’t you worry for me, vita mia. The only thing that makes me sad is to be parted from you.”

“No one will ever part us, hayati. I belong by your side.”

“Even if I lost to him?” At Joe’s strong nod, Nicky pushed the issue further. “You would leave your husband for me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Nicky looked triumphant, and pulled Joe in a fierce kiss, before taking his hand and walking back into the house, leaving the others behind.

“I say one week.”

Nile, who had been distracted by Nicky and Joe’s epic act of love, turned her head at the other three people left there, looking utterly confused.

“What are you guys talking about?”

They completely ignored her.

“Very optimistic of you, Booker. A month,” Andy smirked, looking entirely confident.

“Oh please, Andy! It’s wasn’t that bad,” Quynh was shaking her head, clearly unimpressed, “I’m not even sure it’s going to last more than 24 hours.”

Andy started laughing very loudly. “None of you has known Nicky for as long as I did. He has a serious problem with holding grudges.”

“Guys,” Nile tried again, “what are you betting on?”

Booker took pity on her. “How long before we’ll have to leave them alone in the house to avoid the noises of celebratory sex."

“I’m pretty sure they are doing... ‘that’ right as we speak?” Nile loved her new family, she really did, but she still wasn’t comfortable with the amount of intimate information that were often shared as an off-hand comment.

“Definitely not,” Andy was looking straight at her, “Joe would never take advantage of a drunk Nicky. Even if I honestly doubt Nicky would have any objection.”

Nile shrugged, “Well, then tomorrow morning.”

“That’s when Nicky is going to wake up and remember.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe was awakened by the morning sun, and he stirred lazily while keeping his eyes shut. He didn’t remember the last time he had been in such a good mood right at the beginning of the day. After the duel, he and Nicky had sat on the bed for a long time, making out like a couple of teenagers, until Nicky had wanted to push it a little further and Joe had gently stopped him, pressing him to lay down on the bed. They had lazily curled into each other and had been fast asleep only moments later.

But now they were both sober, and Joe was very well intentioned to take his sweet time and make love to the perfect, gorgeous man who was laying by his side.

Except Nicky was not by his side, and suddenly Joe realized that his arms were empty. He moved his hand up and down the other side of the bed, until his fingers brushed along other fingers. He tried to reach for them, but after a gentle squeeze, the other hand left his. He opened his eyes.

His Nicky was looking at him with something that looked like… disappointment.

“Nicolò, come back to bed.”

There was no answer. No reaction.

“Light of my eyes, moon of my life, can you tell me what is wrong?”

Nicky kept glaring at him, much to Joe’s dismay.

“Tell me again how you would leave your husband… in a heartbeat?” Nicky’s statement was followed by a heavy sigh, and a shake of the head. “I didn’t think you such a cruel man, Yusuf.”

Joe’s eyes widened, in alarm. “Nicky, I was talking about… him! Not you! And even by intending you as my husband, which was by the way absolutely not what was happening, I would have still left you… for you!” Joe knew he was making absolutely no sense, but he had just woken up. And he and mornings didn’t necessarily get along.

Nicky shook his head again, clearly dismissive. “I’m deeply hurt, my heart. Someone bats their eyes at you and suddenly you forget all about your husband.”

“You were batting your eyes at me, not just… someone!” Joe was slightly starting to panic. “I wouldn’t notice anyone else if they tried to bat their eyes at me!”

“If you say so.” Nicky got up from the bed, and only then Joe noticed that he was already dressed up. “I’m taking a walk with Nile. Let’s see if when I come back, you’re going to be here, or if you have just decided to run away and leave your husband in a heartbeat.”

Nicky exited the room without another word, content to just leave a loudly groaning Joe on the bed. He made it to the kitchen, where Andy was drinking her coffee.

“How long?”

“A month.”

“Never going to happen,” Nicky was fighting the urge to smile, “I am merely trying to make a point. My instincts are already screaming in protest."

Andy rolled her eyes.

“Fine. But at least wait more than a week, I don’t want to lose to /Booker/.”

“I said this morning,” Nile approached Nicky and touched him lightly on the arm, “and by the look of it, it feels like that’s what you want to go for.”

“My dear, dear Nile,” Nicky covered her hand with his own, “let’s go quickly buy you something with the money that our brothers and sisters are going to owe you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(originally written for @percivlgraves birthday

(Notes:

1) this is my first fanfiction in almost seven years, hopefully it’s not too bad;

2) this is my first fanfiction in english E V E R, please don’t be too harsh, I swear I’ll try to improve!!)

[weltenwellen]

Hey we’re not mutual but I’d like to chat with you:( is it possible?

i am sorry, but i would like to keep my chat function limited as i always get a little overwhelmed with people sending me links through the chat when i make it available for everyone. plus, i would like to refrain from longer conversations on here. i have the tendency to just stop replying which i have been working on so much not do anymore with my friends. i would like to keep my priority and social engagement focus on my own life and not on tumblr is what i am trying to say. i hope that does not come across as rude & I hope it is not taken personally. i am sure you are very lovely person 🙈💛

[consul-valerius]

Another crack fic that got out of control? it’s more likely than you think.

this is a nameless fic, but I’ve been on a Sam kick and was reminded how rude Valerius can get when he wants to be lmao so a basic rundown is: Valerius makes an insensitive comment at dinner that makes everyone upset. Samuel, always ready to reprimand people, deals with his rude mouth the best he knows how: with soap

ghfuishgisg this is super dumb, but got very long and somehow turned into an analysis of both of them somehow?? there’s no serious warnings other than like.... corporal punishment and slight magical bondage? can also be considered dubcon in terms of valerius... doesn’t want to eat soap.... ? dfighdg RIP valerius, peepaw off the shits u_u

Valerius hardly noticed the death stare pointed towards him from the other end of the table. He was carrying the conversation on coolly, uncaring of the so-called duke he had addressed before. Donna was seated next to him, a hand gripping his knee, a silent plea for him to stop talking. Samuel’s lips were pulled back into what looked like a smile but read as anything but. Valerius rambled on with Lucio who, unsurprisingly, was also unaware of his partner’s state. He hardly cared if other people got into trouble; as long as he was in the clear, he was content. 

The group had been engaging in their usual banter; Valerius and Donna sat side by side with Lucio and Nadia across from them. At the end of the table, Samuel sat between both couples. However, he hardly acted like a fifth wheel. He was able to engage quite well with Lucio the entire time, uncaring about his wife sitting next to him.  He had even gotten Donna to join in on the playful exchange, knowing just what to say to get them hooked. In retrospect, this must have bruised Valerius’s ego a bit too much. Nadia, ever the mature little princess, knew to keep her mouth shut and wait for a proper moment to strike. Samuel had to at least give her that; her scathing remarks always hurt him just right. Valerius, however, was in every way a child. He must have been decently upset at Samuel charming not just his partner but his other bedmate as well. Almost too easily, Valerius turned the discussion around to family, glaring at Samuel from above his wine glass. He hardly noticed that Donna seemed put off by the discussion just as much as Samuel was; his intent was solely to hurt Sam in some way.

“You know how dull private tutors can be though, can’t you, your excellency?” Valerius drawled, quirking a brow at him. Sam clenched his teeth, smiling at him.

“I cannot say I do, no.”

“Oh? Oh. Right. You would not know of such luxuries, would you?”

“I’m afraid no. But I must thank our dearest princess and her family; I’m surprised to see that after hundreds of years that your beloved Vesuvia has yet to adopt any form of public schooling.”

Nadia couldn’t help but snort into her drink; she couldn’t even muster the energy at being upset at being called “princess.” Valerius lowered his glare, his fingers clenching around his glass. Donna tried laughing it off, nudging Valerius’s ribs.

“Come now, I’m tired of politics for one day,” they spoke, voice tense. Lucio nodded his head eagerly. “If you want to discuss education policies, I’ll happily arrange a meeting between you two. Later.”

“I agree, Sammy,” Lucio purred, leaning on his arm to regard the duke with a wry smile. “Who cares about that stuff anyway?”

Nadia had to refrain from rolling her eyes; Donna stared at him incredulously. Still, only Samuel laughed, reaching over to tuck a stray hair behind Lucio’s hair. It only served to infuriate Valerius more, the blatant disregard for decorum.

“Of course, my apologies, dearest,” Valerius tried to speak calmly to Donna. They cut him a harsh stare, pointedly looking towards his crushing grip on his glass. He ignored them. “I’ll be sure to include topics our esteemed guest can relate to-- as a commoner, of course.”

Donna seemed to physically deflate at this; Nadia searched from Valerius’s smug expression to Samuel’s twisted one. She caught his bared teeth for just a moment; in an instant, he relaxed his features again. He laughed, loud, waving Valerius’s comment away with his hand. He said nothing, though, and Valerius preemptively accepted his victory. He leaned closer to Lucio, engaging in some inane discussion together. Another attempt at showing off his win. Donna looked rather helplessly at Sam; his tight smile told them all they needed to know. 

“Sorry,” they mouthed to him when Valerius was not looking. Samuel simply took a long sip from his wine, his eyes fixed on Valerius. 

Donna remained silent as they watched Sam’s mind working in overdrive. They debated just getting Valerius out of there and letting Samuel fuck his frustrations out on Lucio. However, even they were upset by Valerius’s comments. They had plenty of fights about the same topic, of his tasteless comments on class and wealth. They were so sure he was getting better, but it was clear that if he needed to strike low, he intended on doing so, uncaring if it hurt Donna too. Sipping their wine, they sighed through their nose. They shot a knowing look towards Samuel. Fine. They would have their own conversation with Valerius later, then. But if anything happened between then… well, that was out of their hands. 

Nadia caught the grin Samuel threw their way; she looked away, reclining in her seat.  

It happened quite suddenly; Valerius cried out as his wine glass suddenly shattered, spilling its contents onto his lap. Donna quickly moved away, feigning shock. 

“Did you do that?” Lucio gasped, leaning over the table to look at the mess at Valerius’s seat. 

“Of course not! I was just… I…”

“Those were good glasses too,” Nadia spoke a bit sadly, frowning. Valerius’s face burned brightly, trying and failing to rub out the stain from his crotch. 

“I didn’t!”

Samuel sat pretty in his seat, lazily blinking his eyes. Donna looked over to him, a glint to their eyes.

“Big,” they said. “Don’t you know a spell that removes stains like this? You showed me before, but I forget it. Please, can you help our dear consul with the mess he’s made? He’s quite fond of these trousers.”

“Donna—?”

“I do, actually,” Samuel replied, a wide smile spreading across his face. “We should go to another room, though. I need space to do it.”

“Aw, but I wana see some magic!” Lucio complained, pouting up at Samuel. Donna giggled as they rubbed Valerius’s arm. 

“I can show you some tricks, Lucy,” they purred, winking over to Nadia. “I have a few you and Nadia haven’t seen yet.”

“I don’t need a witch’s spell,” Valerius seethed, his arms hanging up at his sides. “I need these off and laundered.”

“Oh? How… scandalous, consul. I had no idea you were the sort to strip in front of company,” Samuel tilted his head, a look of confusion on his face. “Is that what those private tutors taught you?”

Donna covered their face, stifling their laugh, as Lucio cackled. Valerius balked at the man, screeching out an incomprehensible retort. Samuel smiled sweetly at him, easily stepping to his side from around the table. His size dwarfed Valerius; the consul was unused to it, accustomed to being taller than Donna. He looked up rather meekly at him, the duke’s smile turning into something more devious. 

“Please, consul,” Samuel continued, placing a long hand to the small of Valerius’s back. “I can remedy this better than any simple servant. It won’t take me longer than a few minutes. Why, a commoner like me should be able to clean an expensive pair of pants, no?”

He tilted his head, staring down expectantly at Valerius. Valerius felt his stomach drop, his arms finally resting at his sides in defeat. Samuel grinned, leaning down to whisper into Valerius’s ear, though he was loud enough for the room to hear. 

“Not to mention the Countess’s choice in white wine is doing you no favors, either.”

Valerius looked down, mortified, at the damp spot on his crotch. More stifled laughter filled the room; Valerius’s face was a deep shade of pink.

Defeated, he followed Samuel out the door, the sound of the other three laughing ringing in his ears.

Valerius shuddered as the door was shut behind him. 

“Now see here—”

Before he could speak, his braid was being seized roughly. Crying out, he struggled as Samuel pulled him close by his hair. Seething, he tried retching himself away to no avail. Samuel was much stronger than him despite his age. All Valerius could do was pout up at him as he grabbed at his hands.

“Y-You’re hurting me…”

“That’s the idea, trollop,” Samuel cooed, tugging harder at the braid. Valerius cried out again, trying again to wiggle free.

“I’ll… I’ll call for the guards at once!”

“Aw? Am I too rough for the baby consul then?” Samuel taunted as he roughly shoved Valerius on to the couch. He whimpered and rubbed at his scalp, trying to readjust his hair. Samuel laughed, shaking his head. “What a mess you are. I would find it more endearing if your mouth was not so filthy.”

“Shut up! Donna will never put up with this. As soon as I tell them what you’ve done—”

“They’ll what? Punish me? Dear boy, I can see they don’t even have a firm hand with you,” the duke purred, stepping in front of Valerius. He cowered a bit into the seat, feeling cornered. “Besides, who do you think taught them how to handle a paddle? Do they still tire themself out too early?”

Valerius shrank back, unable to answer the man again. Samuel placed his hands on his hips, leaning down. His white hair fell forward, his grin twisted. Valerius cowered back into the seat.

“No, the only one in need of a proper punishment is you, little boy,” Samuel hissed, stepping between Valerius’s legs. He gasped, trying to unsuccessfully slink away. “It seems not even Nadia can’t keep you well trained. A pity, really. I expect more from a princess of Prakra. No matter! I have no issue rectifying naughty behavior.”

“You… you…. You can’t hurt me! Donna will never allow it! I’ll have you… I’ll have you ruined if you try hurting me again!”

Again, Samuel tilted his head back to laugh at the man. Valerius whined, sinking further into the couch. 

“Oh yes, Donna will be quite annoyed with me if I hurt that pretty little head of yours again. Though not every punishment needs to be painful; humiliation seems to be a very good teacher for you,” Samuel looked down pointedly between Valerius’s legs, savoring the way the man gasped and tried covering himself. 

“Please, I know I spoke poorly before—”

“Poorly, yes, very good choice of words there.”

“Forgive me,” Valerius begged, eyes widening. He was normally so good at weaseling his way out of these things. Samuel disorientated him, his looming form so threatening. “I have no idea what… what came over me.”

“You do, though. But do not worry, little one, I will give you more time to reflect on it. Reflection is the key here, you see. No use in correcting poor behavior if you don’t know why, yes?”

As he spoke, Samuel curled his finger. Valerius was horrified to feel his hands pulled and pinned behind his back. Sam plopped down on the couch next to him, that crooked smile still on his face as Valerius struggled in his invisible restraints. A firm force knocked him over Samuel’s lap. The force held him in place despite how hard he kicked his legs. The Duke hummed as he patted down Valerius’s hair. Valerius groaned, slumping down on the man’s legs. He waited for Samuel to pull down his pants and get on with it. However, nothing happened. Confused and uncomfortable, Valerius twisted in the man’s lap.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Samuel laughed, causing Valerius to grumble. “Though I think you have the wrong idea. If you were better behaved, I’d spank you.”

“How does that… even make any sense?”

Samuel rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Ugh, it seems like even Donna needs to be retaught a thing or two. No wonder you’re such a wretched little thing.”

“S-Shut up! You haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about or who you’re talking to!”

“Mmm, there goes that mouth again. You only prove my point every time you speak; you can’t help it. Let me remedy that for you, my esteemed, baby consul.” 

Right as Valerius opened his mouth to shout, his eyes widened as something wide and firm was shoved into his mouth. His teeth sank into it; it gave a little bit, but he couldn’t bite all the way through it. His eyes crossed as he looked down horrified at the object wedged between his lips.

Soap. It was a bar of soap. 

Where had the duke even gotten that? Had he conjured it up for him? He immediately tried spitting it out, but Samuel’s hand quickly stopped him; it shoved the soap deeper into his mouth. Valerius sputtered, choking as Sam wasted no time and ramming the bar in and out of his mouth. He kicked his legs frantically, eyes watering. It smelled too floral and tasted almost like salt. It was awful, the taste growing worse the longer it stayed in his mouth. Sam kept a hand clenched onto the back of Valerius’s neck, holding his head in place as he worked. 

“See, a dirty mouth like yours should be cleaned properly,” Sam chastised, voice light and airy, as if he was really just doing laundry. “This technique works well on children because it’s so difficult to get any sort of pleasantries out of it. It should work with imprudent snobs like you, too.”

Valerius tried sputtering out a response, but all his sounds were garbled. The waxy texture bothered his tongue; he couldn’t help but start to drool around it. Sam continued humming, throwing one of his long legs over Valerius’s, pinning him down fully. Unable to kick or scream, Valerius could only swallow down the bar in his mouth, gagging as his mouth filled with frothy bubbles. He didn’t know if he could feel anymore degraded than this; seated on another man’s lap, having his mouth washed out like he was some tot. Baby consul. The horrid nickname burned in his head as he whimpered and twisted in the man’s grip.

“My, I should have gotten you a bib,” Sam commented, glancing down at the dribble trailing down Valerius’s chin. He made a high-pitched sound around the soap, his legs twisting again. “I’ll have to tidy up your shirt now too. You’re really not as put together as you think you are.”

Valerius groaned, shutting his eyes tight as he tried steadying his breathing. He took in a big gulp of air as the soap was finally removed from his lips for a moment. Sam turned his nose up at how slimy it had gotten; it was covered in teeth marks. Valerius panted, spitting out whatever residue was left in his mouth. It felt like it was clinging to his tongue to matter what he did. 

“What do you say?”

“You… you’re a perverted, u-unrefined, pi—”

Before Valerius could finish, his mouth was once again filled. He let out a frustrated scream, clenching his fists together as he tried shaking his head. But Sam, ever patient, kept a vice grip on his head. Once again, he was ramming the bar in and out of his mouth, getting a fairly good lather with just Valerius’s spittle. Valerius made a rather pathetic sound, forcing himself to swallow down any excess residue in his mouth.

“See what I mean? You don’t know when to quit. Just before you were begging for forgiveness, but now that you’re actually being punished, you’re all bark again,” Samuel tsked, shaking his head. “I bet you’re used to that mouth of yours getting you out of trouble all the time. And in trouble too. All you rich types are the same; so full of yourselves until you get you get put in your place.”

Valerius whimpered, tears stinging his eyes. He tried speaking again, but it was all muted. He supposed that was the point of this. Groaning, he shut his eyes again. He didn’t want to admit the duke was right, not like this, but in reality…

“Did you even see Donatello’s face? How upset you made them? How often do you do that, I wonder,” Samuel continued, his movements rougher now. Valerius gagged, his brows knit together. “Did you forget that they’re a commoner too? Or are you too self absorbed you cannot even think of them?”

Valerius cried out around the bar, shaking his head sadly. He didn’t like this, didn’t like being made to think that he could have hurt their feelings. Samuel pulled the bar out again, raising an eyebrow.

“It… It wasn’t… wasn’t about them,” Valerius babbled, voice breaking. “I do think of them… I do—”

Again, the bar was shoved back in his mouth.

“Your behavior says otherwise. Honestly, I think you act out on purpose. Men like you crave a firm hand to guide them. I’d be happy to oblige in a much more pleasant venue, but I don’t think you’ve earned that yet. How sad, you even make Lucio look well-mannered with your abhorrent behavior.”

That seemed to have struck a chord with the consul; all his movement stopped for a moment, his eyes wide as he sank into Sam’s lap. Sam raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. Oh? Oh. That hurt. Humming again, Samuel slowly dragged the soap bar along Valerius’s tongue one last time before removing it again. He let the man catch his breath, drool still spilling from his lip, soap residue smeared across his chin. 

“What do you say?”

“... I’m sorry…”

“For?”

Valerius pouted, his eyes focused on the wall. Sam was half tempted to gag him once again, but his hoarse voice finally piped back up.

“I’m sorry for being so… deplorable before. I was being crass and… and childish.”

“And do you have any idea why?”

Samuel lifted him up by his shoulders, snapping the restraints away. Valerius rolled his shoulders, rubbing his wrists. Samuel scooted him off his lap so that he was sitting flush against his side. The consul didn’t seem to mind this, his shoulder pressed into Sam’s side as he stared down at his lap.

“I suppose I was feeling a bit… insecure? I’m not used to Donatello knowing… Well, other people in our circle like this. And I’m definitely not used to Lucio being so… open with another person…” His voice was hoarse and words a bit slurred.

“So you tried taking me down a notch or two,” Samuel said, reclining on the couch and draping an arm over the back of it. Valerius slumped closer to him. “An admirable cause, but such… poor execution. You should take a note from Nadia; now that’s a woman who knows how to whip men into their place.”

Valerius rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out.

“Samuel, please…”

“Hmm?”

“Water… my tongue feels awful, and I… I can’t get the taste out.”

Samuel tilted his head back as he cackled, a wheezy sound. Valerius huffed, crossing his arms as he bounced his leg.

“And… you also said—”

“Fix your wet pants, yes.”

“... don’t say it like that.”

“Why? That’s what they are: your wet pants.”

“Are you intending on torturing me the rest of the night?”

“Yes, are you catching on yet?”

Samuel chuckled again as Valerius pressed his hands up to his face, groaning into them.