#these get simpler every year 💀

[khytal]

B)

[trivia-yandere]

request for yandere!ex-husband jk trying to prevent oc from divorcing him 💀😭 (only because they got a child together and he loves her more than anything but she just can’t take him anymore)

hello! yes we can :) this one might take a little turn but this is a yandere account so

nefarious

You knew who Jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him.

@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree

word count: 4.442

warning: yandere themes/tendancies, non-consenual touching/rape, smut, cursing, dark theme, spitting, degradation, possessiveness, fingering, dirty talking, emotional/mental manipulation, biting, restraining, crying, slapping,

“Get it out of my sight.” Jungkook tosses the paper away aggressively with a roll of his eyes. One of his men - Sung-ho, stands straighter to appear obedient. “That bitch thinks she’s going to divorce me after I made her?” Jungkook leans back into his chair with a huff. He shakes his head. “After I got her out of the slums she was living in?”

Jungkook’s eyes glance at the picture onto his desk - one of you and him on your wedding day. He grasps it and hurls it at Sung-ho who barely manages to dodge the attack. “You find that bitch and bring her back to me!” he screeches, eyes wide with rage. Sung-ho truly had no reason to be a part of Jungkook’s rage and he would make sure to apologize about it another time.

It’s been three months.

Three months since Jungkook has allowed you your little vacation away from him. And now you dare serve him with divorce papers that claimed that you wanted full custody of his daughters - you were insane. You had no job and had not worked in the last five years you and he had been married. You swiped his card without a care in the world and wasted close to millions since then - as a man and your husband, he never bat an eye.

But to think that you were willing to divorce him because - by your words - Jungkook was not the man he claimed to be was preposterous. You knew the type of man he was - the same man who you kept returning to every night to wet his cock and warm his bed. The same man who gave you lavish gifts every week and the same man who managed to not only marry you, but grace you with two of his offspring.

So what if he orchestrated a few murders every now and then? Or stole money and expensive pieces during heists? Sold a few (thousands) pounds of unthinkable drugs? You lived in a mansion, his daughters and you wanted for nothing - isn't that what a man was supposed to do? Ensure his family was alright? Why the fuck did it matter what he did as long as you and his girls were safe?

Jungkook knew you had no problem with what he did for work. Your problem was that you clearly missed him - he had to be gone the majority of the time and that left you in such a large mansion to care for the children alone. But a divorce? Wasn’t that a little excessive? No, this was nothing but a little stunt to get his attention and clearly, now you had it.

Sure Jungkook and you didn’t meet on simpler terms - normal people met at coffee shops. Maybe out grocery shopping. Hell, social media and dating sites were normal now. 

No, Jungkook and you met during one of many (unbeknownst to you) bank heists he had gone on. You recall the day had been fairly slow, only a few people coming in every hour. You had been assisting an older man when the doors slammed open and a group of men entered. 

The men wore all black and wore masks that covered their entire head. They pointed guns at everyone, telling them to get down. You - of course it had to be you - were escorted to the back. To think that this wasn’t even your shift initially and you picked it up from a fellow co-worker. 

But again, you weren’t as normal either. Jungkook noticed how you appeared to not take anything serious. He pointed his gun at you and though he would never use it - hurting women and children was not his forte - you didn’t know this.

Jungkook knew you were different when you flirted with him as you opened the safe. If this was your way to assure your safety, then it was a weird way to go.

“Do you do this often?” you speak as Jungkook fills the bags with stacks upon stacks of cash. “I always wondered what robbing a bank would be like.”

You. You were a weird one. But Jungkook liked it.

“I saw something like this in a porno once.”

Jungkook halts in his tracks, unable to control his thoughts. He turns towards you, eye sockets - dark and nearly invisible to you, stare at your grinning figure.

“The robbers break in and find a defenseless woman…” you lean back onto the wall, tilting your head. “...take advantage of her. But deep down, we both know she wanted it.”

Jungkook was ashamed of himself for allowing himself to be consumed by you. You had all the control that day and you knew it. You enticed him so much that he was able to forget about the heist all together and that’s when he found himself inside of you - ravishing you against the very wall you leaned against.

What could Jungkook say? He was a man and you were a willing participant. You begged him for more, edged him on as he fucks you. You liked the way he was treating you - hands clenching your neck, the manhandling. You started this, all Jungkook did was follow your lead.

“I could say you raped me.”

There it was - the kicker.

You could say that indeed. You had managed to not only get Jungkook off of his game to fuck you - but to do so without a condom. Jungkook had been so excited by you that he came the hardest he has in months - right inside of you. His cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs, you not even bothering to wipe it up.

“Say that you took advantage of me and when they do a rape kit…” you shrug.

Jungkook points his gun at your head, but both of you knew that he wasn’t going to pull any triggers. You sensed no threat when it came from this man - Jungkook is who he would soon introduce himself as.

“What do you want?” This is the first time you have heard Jungkook’s voice. He was young, you note, his cock and stamina confirming it. Possibly around the same age as you.

“Money.” you shrug your shoulders. “But I can’t take it now.” you laugh. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you again, huh?”

Jungkook swallows. He’s thankful the mask remained on his face and you didn’t see his red cheeks and shocked expression.

“How about I give you my number and you can call me later?” you offer.

“I could kill you later.” Jungkook retorts. 

“You can kill me now.” you fire back. “Your friends can kill the entire bank and get away with it. Burn it down and get rid of any evidence you have left inside of me.”

Jungkook swallows.

“But you know that. You’re a smart boy.” There you were flirting with him again. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would have. Truth is, I could care less about this job and my life is quite boring. All I want is a little company. Who better than a random thief with obviously nothing else better to do?”

Jungkook found that from right there he was fucked and you were truly a vixen - an agent of chaos sent from Hell (Heaven would never allow something like you) to torment him. But he was rather intrigued for the first time in who knows how long.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked.  

“Y/N.”

 Jungkook lowers his gun. “Jungkook.”

You chugged the champagne down in nearly one gulp and slammed the glass onto your vanity. Your eyes dart to your reflection in the mirror and you scoff. You should have known Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

You recall the way all hell had broke loose when Jungkook had found you. Your daughters were at school luckily and didn’t have to see their father’s demeanor change. He told you it wasn’t hard finding your hotel room and slamming the door open. You had been dozing off when he entered and Jungkook was anything but content. 

“I allowed this little break to go on long enough, Y/N.” Jungkook was aggressively grabbing your belongings, hauling them onto the bed. “Pack your shit.”

“No.” you hissed.

“No?” Jungkook scoffs. “You think you’re going to divorce me and take my daughters?” Jungkook wants to laugh at how stupid you sounded. “With no job?”

“I’ve been saving money.” you retort, eyes glaring at him.

“Oh,” Jungkook snickers with a clap of his hands. “So you’ve been planning on leaving me for a while. What’s changed?”

Jungkook came closer to you. He looked manic, eyes wide and glaring into your soul. 

“You even threatened to expose me if I didn’t give you a divorce.” Jungkook is livid. “Take down all of my legitimate businesses just to divorce me? You think you’ll get away with that, baby?”

Jungkook was never one to be rough with you, but he’s pissed. He pushes you onto the bed and hovers about you. “You don’t think you’ll go down with me? You tell them what I do on the side, I’ll tell them you were alongside me the entire way. We’ll both go to jail and our daughters…” Jungkook shrugs. “They’ll go to my brother.”

Your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Take me down, Y/N. You’re going with me.” Jungkook pushed himself away from you. “Pack your shit and let's go home.” he hissed, not waiting for a response from you.

And now here you sat in said home. You were fresh from a long shower, having ignored Jungkook the following days and only tended to your daughter's needs.

You were feeling bitchy today, however, and decided that if Jungkook didn’t want to give you a divorce - that you were going to force him to. That, or annoy him until you felt as though you were done.

You continued to lotion your skin until it glowed, then you grabbed the perfume bottle - one of the many expensive gifts from Jungkook - and sprayed it until you knew it would linger. You take one last look in the mirror before smiling to yourself.

“We haven’t done a bank heist in years.” Jimin says with furrowed brows, bored and a little offended with the conversation. “We aren’t children anymore. Are we going broke?”

Jungkook snorts, but leans back into his chair. He pours himself the whiskey - courtesy of Yoongi - and lifts his eyes to the surrounding men that he considers brothers.

“I agree.” Taehyung nods. “Bank heists are for the lower ranks. Who’s idea was this?”

“Mine.” Jungkook slams the shot glass down onto the table and shakes his head at the powerful taste. “Don’t you guys remember the adrenaline rush?”

Namjoon snorts with a roll of his eyes. “Leave it to the baby of the group to say this.” he murmurs, a smirk forming onto his lips.

The doors of the meeting room open and heads turn towards the noise. Jungkook’s eyes land on you - and your lack of clothes all together. You adorn lingerie, black and lacy that fits you perfectly. His eyes darken when he meets your gaze.

Jimin is interested now. He leans forward and waves at you. “Y/N, hello.” he says. You were always Jimin’s favorite out of the girls Jungkook had brought around - one of the main reasons being that you actually became a wife. You didn’t remain someone he left in the shadows of his bedroom and actually gave him two adorable nieces.

And of course, you and Jungkook were one of the same. You were stubborn and took no shit and Jungkook got a taste of his own medicine. One of the countless reasons why you two bumped heads often - but it made for great make-up sex.

“Jimin.” you wave back. “I missed you. You don’t come around as much.”

Jungkook watches you with glaring eyes as you make your way closer.

“Y/N.” Jungkook’s tone is low - a warning. Not now, he wants to say. He had no time for your petty bullshit.

“You know me, I always keep busy.” Jimin continues the conversation as if you aren’t wearing the bare minimum - but Jimin didn’t see you in that way. Plus, he loved annoying Jungkook just like you did.

“That you do.” You reach the edge of the table, grasping a glass and a half empty bottle of brandy. “I see you all been drinking without me.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook continues, leaning forward. His firsts were clenching as he awaits for you to answer him. 

Taehyung fights back the cackle. It was always something when it came to Jungkook and you. The fights were never to be taken seriously - it always ended the same way. You and he entangled together declaring how much you pissed the other off.

“You’ve been ignoring us lately.” Taehyung pipes in. “What did we do to deserve the cold shoulder?”

Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift. You were mocking him - he was once told by Yoongi that he allowed you to walk all over him and he was beginning to agree. You had no respect for him - and even his brothers were going along with your foolishness.

“I’m sorry.” you sigh, pouring yourself the brandy and glancing at Jungkook. “Maybe when the divorce is finalized-”

There it was - the cherry on top. Jungkook’s chair screeches as he pushes himself away from the table and lifts himself up. He’s fast as he rounds it and lunges at you. However, you’re just as fast at hauling your drink into his face.

Jimin watches in amusement as Jungkook pulls you over his shoulder as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum. He rushes out of the room - slamming the door open with a loud bang while you’re punching at his back.

“Well then.” Namjoon claps his hands, shaking his head. He allows a few laughs to be released from his lips.

“I think this little get together is over.” Hoseok continues.

Jungkook is livid when he slams the bedroom door open just to slam it shut behind him. He shoves you off of him and onto the king sized bed. You fall on your back with a grunt, bouncing off until you catch yourself. 

“You think you’re cute, huh?” Jungkook grumbles, towering over you. He would admit that he wanted to be furious with you - but your attire didn’t help him. You knew what you were doing to piss him off but you wearing his favorite perfume was doing nothing but distracting him.

“Had to do something to get your attention.” you retort, swallowing when your eyes meet the bulge in his pants.

“Ah, so that’s what it is?” Jungkook tsks. He isn't hesitant to push you back, hand wrapping around your neck. “You missed me, baby. I haven’t been as attentive to you as a husband.”

It’s his knee you feel so close to your heat, the friction causing you to groan. Jungkook was always the one to take control, never fully allowing you to unless it's what he desired.

“Why must you always take things too far?” Jungkook loosens his grip onto your neck, palm gliding down to your breast. “Am I not good to you?”

“You see me as nothing but a whore!” you hiss, turning away from him. Jungkook does notice the way your thighs quiver and your hips jut towards his knee for friction. 

“A whore, no.” Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh. “My whore? Yes.” His eyes are burning into yours, offering the same venom you were giving him. “My whore to fuck, to please, to care for. You’re mine, Y/N.”

Jungkook moves his knee from your heat to replace it. His palm slaps it roughly, wet spot not going unnoticed. You shiver at the impact, ashamed that your body was giving away just what he was doing to you. You felt weak when it came to Jungkook - married for five years and together for nearly 7, he knew your body like the back of his hand. 

Jungkook slaps your clothed clit more - over and over again until your juices are soaked through the lingerie, and even then he doesn’t want to stop his torment.

Jungkook’s fingers dig through the lacy fabric of your lingerie to toy with your clit. So wet - so inviting. He could never get enough of your pussy.

“You ignore me days just to show up in lingerie you knew was going to drive me crazy.” Jungkook rubs along your throbbing clit, bulge twitching at just how sopping wet you are. “Then you say it again. Threaten me with divorce.” Jungkook’s scoffing now. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time.

Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you, not bothering to give you any warning - nor be gentle in the slightest. 

“You make it seem like life with me is bad.” Jungkook begins pumping his fingers inside of you. Your body gives him the reaction he always expects - clenching walls, juices flowing down his wrist and flinching form. 

You want to push Jungkook away, to say that you aren’t his anything. You wanted out of this marriage from him - you were nothing but someone he had control over and you allowed it for far too long. It didn’t feel like a marriage between two lovers, instead you felt trapped in a home and made to be nothing but a body to warm his bed every night. The only gift you could truly appreciate from Jungkook was your daughters.

However, it was your body. Your body could never agree on what your mind was telling it to - you find yourself moaning lowly at his thrusting fingers. Jungkook is pissed, and when he is it tends to show in the way he pleases you. Dominant and in control.

Jungkook’s tongue licks upon your cheek. Hot, wet and slimy - all before he spits onto you. In his eyes, the ultimate sign that you were truly his.

“I fucked over enough people in my lifetime that they have given up trying to take it out on me.” Jungkook’s pumping only increases. “You and our daughters are the true targets that they know could truly get to me. I’ve done nothing but kept you and them safe.”

Your eyes roll when you feel the familiar bubbling churning in your stomach. The wet slapping of Jungkook’s fingers inside of you are echoing filthy throughout the bedroom.

“Leave.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you just when you were seconds away from releasing. “If you want the divorce so bad, then I’ll give it to you. Our daughters are staying with me.”

You’re panting, high coming back down to Earth. Your eyes flutter open to see Jungkook pushing himself away from you.

“I’m not leaving without them.”

“Too bad.” Jungkook shrugs. “You want the divorce. You leave and you’ll see them whenever you come here. Take whatever money you saved and find yourself somewhere to go.”

“You’re bluffing.” you find the courage to say, but your voice is so low and meek.

Jungkook hums, lips twitching as he watches you. Poor you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You never truly thought he would give you what you asked for - no matter how brattish and petty you’ve been towards him. 

Jungkook was going to show you just how much you needed him and not the other way around. You were his woman regardless and no divorce was ever going to change that - not even in death would he allow you to part ways with him. He just had to show you how truly vile the world was without him.

Jungkook strokes your hair as you continue to cry in his arms, visibly shaking and trembling. Your fingers are clenching onto his shirt tight as if never wanting to let him go.

How the tables have truly turned - but all Jungkook could think was “I told you so”.

You were only gone a week and it was all it took for you to find yourself in trouble. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that revenge toward him was sought out by harming those he loved.

You sat in your hotel room when the knock sounded onto the door. You had ordered food not long ago, so when the knock sounded you wasted no time in going to open it.

Your first mistake.

Your door crashes open when you unlock it and you’re shoved onto the ground. You don’t manage to scream when you feel your screams being muffled. There's two of them, you note, both men. Their clothing was dark and loose fitted and their face had been hidden completely, you can see from a facial mask to cover their mouth and scarf on top of their heads. You couldn’t make out the eyes, yet you weren’t intended to. You were flipped onto your front quickly when one man had yanked you onto your feet, face burying into the hotel bed.

Your legs and arms thrashed around in an attempt to free yourself from the men, but you quickly realized that it was pointless - and that you were doing nothing but exhausting yourself. 

Your eyes swell with tears, anxiety peaking when you realize that this might be what Jungkook was talking about - your mind telling you that there was no way you were leaving here alive. 

Your arms are restrained by one man while the other pulls at your clothing. Your legs shiver when your pajama pants are ripped and you’re exposed to the cool air of the room

You feel nauseous and your head is pounding at the thought of you being defiled by these men - that you were in this situation at all.

You managed to lift your head to breathe, a choked sob releasing from your throat. Your tears blinded your vision, but you could see in the corner of your eye flesh - the man behind you ripping your clothing off. Without thinking, you sink your teeth into his skin in hopes of buying you time for an escape.

A hiss sounds through your ears and you feel a sting across your cheek. Your arms are being restrained tighter until you feel them cramp and sob.

You pleaded and begged for them to leave you alone - that you’d give them whatever money you had saved. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and you realized what they truly wanted was you.

You clenched your eyes shut when you felt yourself being stuffed by the man behind you. He wastes no time in pumping inside of you, not caring just how uncomfortable it felt for the both of you. You feel something wet, warm and slimy drip onto your folds, you conclude he had spit onto you to get any form of lubricant.

The thrusts are brutal and his hands upon you are tight and unmoving. Your sobs do not subside and you feel as though your body is betraying you. It didn’t feel good to you - you felt disgusting and utterly embarrassed; especially with the grunting sounds from the man defiling you. But your body is allowing this to happen, naturally lubricating your walls for more - your stomach churning and bubbling to reach a high you didn’t desire.

Skin slapping echoes off the wall and you had no tears left in you to cry. You wanted this torture to end, to be freed from the nightmare -  but the man was cruel. You feel his hand tuck themselves beneath you and fingers twirl at your clit. You cry upon impact, shaking your head. 

“She likes it.” you hear faintly - it had to be the man restraining you. His voice felt so far away even if he was right across from you. 

The man behind you grunts, hips snapping into you roughly, fingers toying your clit harshly. Your pussy clenches around him unwillingly and you remain shaking your head - you didn’t want this. Your body doesn’t understand the difference between this and what it's use to.

“She’s about to cum.” the muffled voice from the man restraining you says. He holds onto your arms tighter as his partner flips you around. You come face to face with the masked person and your heart drops. You close your eyes, not wanting the man to see your reaction.

“It’s okay to like it. Whore’s like you love this, don’t you?”

The man doesn’t stop his thrusts - no, he appears to be thrusting into you even harder. Your moans of protest fill the room, but to these men, they were moans nonetheless.

Hands clamp around your neck and another around your lips. It silences you completely and you no longer have any strength in trying to protest. You felt your walls clench around the masked man until you were finally letting go around him unwillingly, but by then you were losing consciousness.

“I told you the outside world isn’t the place for you, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs into your hair. “You’re lucky I came just in time. Who knows what they were planning on doing to you.”

Your tears are now soaking Jungkook’s shirt, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let you go - and now he would never have to. 

“Come on. Let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” Jungkook says, pushing you away to look at your tear-stained face. “I love you, Y/N. Always.”

You sniffled, feeling yourself fall apart all over again. Your head crashes into his chest and your hold on him becomes tighter. “I-I’m sorry.” you apologize. You should have heed his warning - that you were safe with him. He kept you in this mansion for this long because the outside world was indeed not safe - you and your daughters could never be safe if it wasn’t with Jungkook. You’re grateful that you had not taken them with you. Who knows what the masked men would’ve done to them.

Once Jungkook manages to get you into the shower, he closes the bathroom door behind him with a sigh. He gets your pajamas ready for you when you’re out and some sleeping pills - you’d need it if you were going to get a good night's sleep. 

Jungkook proceeds to lift his sleeve up and sigh at the mark on his wrist. It was beginning to sting. You managed to draw blood when you bit him - but he was grateful that the wound wasn’t too severe. 

After all, Yoongi’s plan had worked. Jungkook regained his control over you - even if he had to take desperate measures and insert fear. But, he had you nonetheless - his wife.

part two (prequel) a look back into your and jungkook's fatal attraction - before the marriage, kids and the detachment coming soon...

[bluemerakis]

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ I’m the guy mothers warn you about, the son they’re afraid to have ❞

⇀ Word count: 15k words (sorry ☠️)

!! 18+ ONLY !!

Guess who finally mustered up the courage to write a Coriolanus Snow fic, and holy shit, this might just be the longest once-off I’ve ever written.

My dear @quicksilversg1rl , this fic goes out to you 100x over. I hope this makes up for the fact that I couldn’t put Tom under your tree ☹️ I hope that it’s enough that I put him in your dreams instead <3

════════════════════════

WARNINGS:

dom!coriolanus, some out-of-pocket makes-you-go “wtaf💀” Coriolanus moments, smut, swearing, possessiveness, manipulation, toxic relationship, choking, pet names, degradation, edging, lots of italics and dashes (sorry I was feeling myself (not literally you sicko) ), masturbation, unprotected sex, cockwarming, dryhumping/wethumping(?), fingering/fisting, oral sex f receiving, the therapy you’ll need after reading these warnings

‼️DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS‼️

SYNOPSIS:

Coriolanus had always known you held potential to win the games, from the day he’d laid his eyes on you at the 10th annual reaping. You were the key he’d been missing all these years, and how he saw almost every opportunity unlocked by your presence at that year’s hunger games.

The secret of how he’d risen into power? The answer was much simpler than anyone had expected. You. Sure, Coriolanus had done his fair share of treason and murder to contribute to his status, but it was your victory that had granted him access to the Plinth fortune and made his ambitions possible. He wasn’t a man that liked to share credit, but he thought your performance in the games a worthy enough candidate.

To show you just how thankful he was, he’d invited you to live with him after the games, for however long you pleased, and he’d made it his mission to show you all the pleasures the Capitol and his lifestyle had to offer. He liked having you near him at all times, and he liked it even better when he was inside of you.

What he didn’t like, though? When you flirted with other men, especially when it served to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like sharing, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience, either. You’d learn that lesson the hard way.

════════════════════════

Coriolanus was a man bred for purpose, like his father before him, and it was a purpose he often reminded you of—a means to keep your neediness at bay, to tame your urge to be at his side every waking hour of the day, a ploy to remind you just how little value you posed to him outside of a night of fleeting pleasure. He marvelled in the opportunity to make you feel insignificant, a false promise too-quickly forsaken the moment your existence captured another man’s desire—a man that wasn’t him.

In the midst of a party he’d rather not have attended, he watched you from a quiet corner of the venue hall, conversing away with a man he hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting just yet. He didn’t know whether you were honestly that painfully oblivious to the desires of the man before you, who clearly wanted nothing more than a taste of one of the renowned hunger games victors, or whether you had deliberately struck up a conversation to get a rise out of Coriolanus.

But when his eyes narrowed on your hand that reached to move a strand of your hair back to the security behind your ear, he knew then exactly which particular game you were playing.

You always did that when you felt subconscious—when you knew you were being watched. It was a tell that Coriolanus had come to identify the more time he’d spent observing you. He’d needed to—it was necessary in order to know the truths you would not tell him. Not out loud, at least. But now, he was pretty fluent in your body language, in more than one way.

He watched you tilt your head to the side in the slightest manner, an act that often sent all the conservativeness of men toppling over the edge. Your lip suctioned into a concentrated bite as you offered small, attentive nods—you were getting him to think you’re interested in what he has to say, pretending not to notice the way his eyes traced your lips and occasionally flickered across your peeping breasts.

The sight stirred an anger in Coriolanus, his fingers tightening around the glass of wine clutched in one hand. He lifted the wine to his lips, taking a sip as though it would somehow quench the imminent fire that threatened to take control of all reasonability. He couldn’t let you get a rise out of him, not in public where he had an image to uphold. Goddamn you and your games, he hated being the one to play it. That had been the fate of you and the districts, not him��Capitol-born and rich beyond imagination. Was this his retribution to pay? Sentenced to your little games after all he’d brought upon you?

You moved a hand to caress the man’s shoulder, offering a sweet giggle. And then there it was, the slightest glance in his direction, fleeting but an obvious beckon for attention. Coriolanus clenched his jaw as you purposefully turned your back on him, his eyes boring into your exposed shoulder blades, framed by a dress that paraded all the right aspects of your body—a dress he’d picked out for you. He hadn’t gone through all that effort to make you look so ravishing, only for another man to enjoy it. It had been for him, a reminder of what his prize would be after enduring this insufferable party.

He’d planned to rip it from you, as mercilessly as he could offer, to toss it onto the floor and you onto the bed, naked and accessible to whatever he desired. However, you seemed hellbent on denying him a good night. He watched you reach for the man’s hand, your motion suggestive as you tugged on him and began to lead him away from the mayhem.

Coriolanus knew exactly where you were taking him.

He watched you weave your way through the dancing bodies, the music falling into the background as he trailed your every move—the way the man blatantly admired the curve of your ass. What an unacceptable circumstance, to think his favourite toy was not his own limited edition—one only he could afford to play with. After all, why had he endured the battlefield of this unfair life to claim a reward that promised power and money and control, only to feel so helpless in his infatuation over you. He hated what primal need controlled him, rendered him incapable of letting you go.

What had it all been for? The poison, the betrayal, the heinous crimes he’d committed—all to prove that he bore no seal of humanity, felt no obligation to love, until you came along, making him look the fool each time you batted a devious lash or wrung those perfect lips around suggestive words. Each time you spoke was like fragments of an enchantment, slowly being made whole and taking its magical toll on his entire being, beginning to claim everything he was—making him obsess, making him weak.

The day he’d gotten you as his tribute, you’d had been nothing more than a mission—a means to secure a prize that would set him for life. But there had been something about you, something that had drawn him in like a sudden whirlpool, now he couldn’t escape the obsession you’d cursed him with. He’d never before felt the burden of caring about another person’s life, needing to know what they were up to at all times.

Coriolanus recalled seeing you for the first time, the day of the reaping, after the tributes had been transported to the Capitol. He remembered seeing you thrown into the zoo display—the way you had instantly found your feet and ran a hand through your hair, made unruly by a rough and sleepless night. Your brows were knitted closely together with unmistakable anger, a look that promised vengeance to the Capitol despite the silence on your lips. Your dress had been made ragged to match your hair, evidence that the bats had showed no mercy toward your pretty privilege. Maybe it had been your looks that had drawn them in, after all.

He’d been ready to deem you a lost cause, disappointed that once again, he’d been stuck with rigged odds. He had been convinced that somewhere beneath that shredded fabric on your skin, you bore the kiss of rabies, doomed to die like countless before you. But he’d seen a few of the other tributes, bearing the same tells of their struggle with the bats in their shredded clothes and tired eyes. One of those amongst the suffering had been your fellow district twelve tribute, Morgan Lark, and he had possessed the worst wounds out of all the affected.

It’d been less than a few hours until the wounded tributes started retching up fountains of white, their eyes glassy and their movements frantically lost on them. Yet there you had sat, watching with perfect control and composure as they had dwindled into mere husks of the people they used to be.

Coriolanus knew then that you had been different—stronger, a tribute that might just prove the risk to be worth it. He’d insisted on investigating the cart you’d been transported in, eager to know the truth behind your journey. Had you truly been strong enough to evade the consequences of the bats? The mystery of it all was pressing enough to consume his every thought. He needed to know. His future depended on it, depended on you.

That evening, after much persistence and a bribe that he honestly couldn’t have afforded, he’d gained access to your cart. There wasn’t much to look at, given that it was nothing more than an empty container, without even the courtesy of a blanket. The scene was almost hauntingly familiar, personal. Nonetheless, he’d paced the walls, eyes searching every aspect of the metal, every dent and hole in the floor. He’d found nothing other than a few rusty nails—nothing interesting, that is until he’d picked one of them up and inspected it closer to find its apex crusted with blood.

A few of the nails were identical in their blood-coating, not a coincidence. Coriolanus gathered them up into his father’s handkerchief, almost regretting the decision as the rust stained the symbolic, white fabric. He placed them cautiously into his blazer pocket, scanning the cart one last time before making his departure. He made a beeline to the morgue, where the bodies of the five infected tributes had been placed shortly after their passing. He needed to see Morgan Lark’s body, to know what secret you could have hidden in his death.

Once he’d gained access to the corpse, he’d pulled back the white covering. A strong waft of formaldehyde greeted his senses and burned his eyes teary. He had been surprised that the body was being preserved, though he didn’t doubt that Dr. Gual had plans to somehow extract and weaponise the rabies in the next games. The chemicals had instantly become so overwhelming that he had to pull his handkerchief from his pocket, empty the rusted nails onto the tray and cover his mouth and nose with the fabric to keep his nausea at bay.

Coriolanus studied the corpse, struggling to contain his pressing disgust as he laid his eyes on the shredded flesh. The bats had gone to town on Morgan, leaving little sections of skin intact. He’d mustered up the courage to get close enough to inspect the wounds, noting that the scratches embedded along his body were not all the work of the bats. No, some of them had been too deep of a wound for a bat’s claws to commit. He had a very good idea of the origins of those wounds, his eyes flickering to the rusted nails on the tray.

He knew then that it was not strength or immunity that had protected you from the touch of death, but your keen mind and craftiness with sharp objects. Coriolanus had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened: you’d managed to get close enough to cut Morgan with the nails, ensuring wounds that were deep enough to bleed profusely, which attracted and encouraged the bats to attack him. You hadn’t been so lucky to go completely unnoticed by the bats, hence the disheveled dress, but you had sure as hell been lucky enough to have been spared from their bite.

What a clever girl you were, perhaps too much for your own good.

Coriolanus had to admit that he’d been impressed by your cruelty—your drive to survive. It gave you an edge, a promising reason to win. He liked those odds, you were becoming a plausible risk to him. Just what would you have been willing to do to a tribute you’ve yet to meet, if you’d so easily betrayed a fellow district partner?

As he’d left the morgue that evening, he couldn’t deny the smirk that had wound his lips the entire trip back. He knew then that, for the first time in all his years as a mentor, this might be the year that he’d finally claim the Plinth prize.

What a worthwhile pick you had been. He liked good investments, and you had proven to be the best one yet. You’d taken that entire game, playing it smart, staying lost in the shadows and gathering what scraps you could make into a worthwhile means of defence. You weren’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter by any means, but you were smart, and that was a quality lost on many of the tributes. They all marched around, boasting their strength as some sort of show of dominance. They thought it made them ferocious, earned them another hour of life, but Coriolanus knew that it only drew attention, that they were stupid in bringing about a speedier death. You had known that, too.

Coriolanus slipped out of his mind, watching as you’d stopped by one of the tables to grab a snack, making a point to be sloppy so that the strange man would feel honour in being able to wipe your lips clean, spurring on his ego and his erection. You had pulled that trick on Coriolanus many times. He hated seeing you provide that same sort of attention to anyone else.

His attention was diverted to a pair of Capitol business men, who had approached him and were attempting to bombard him with pitches he couldn’t have been more arsed to consider, not when he had something more pressing on his mind—not when you had deliberately stolen his attention away.

How incredibly selfish that you should demand his time even when you were not at his side, or laying below him with your legs spread open and cunt practically begging for his generosity. He didn’t tolerate time-wasters of any regard, so he’d ensure that you made up for it.

He lifted a dismissive hand toward the face of one of the men, who fell silent with a look of indignation, but even he wasn’t fool enough to unleash his temper unto the heir of the Plinth fortune. Had Coriolanus known that murdering his best friend would have come with so many perks, he’d have made a point to bring about that particular death benefit much sooner.

He lifted the glass to his lips, draining the rich wine that had been marinating the depths of the glass for far too long. He beckoned over one of the runners, placing his empty glass onto the tray before turning his attention back to the business men.

He offered an insincere dip of his chin. “My apologies, but I’ve more pressing matters to tend to. Please, do enjoy the beverages,” he slipped between their dumbfounded bodies, before adding, “and the women, if it’d please you.”

Coriolanus manoeuvred his way through the crowd, his eyes not once leaving you, even if he had to watch you relentlessly flirt with the other man. Not only were you good with your hands, but you unintentionally weaponised your beauty, too. He had always thought you to possess an innocence that seemed to frame your features, a natural gift that kept eyes focused on the contours of your face rather than on the schemes of your hands. That had always been your advantage—in the games and in your everyday interactions.

It made him angry that you’d remade his mind in this way. No matter how much Coriolanus tried to remind himself of the purpose he’d been bred for, all that he’d done to get to where he was now, all the people he’d carelessly murdered—there was no denying the truth:

No matter what higher, callous deity he claimed to be, he was only just a man, carved from anger and burdened with otherworldly jealously. All because of you.

Just as Coriolanus had managed to push past the last of the dancing bodies that had been blocking his path, he spotted you leaving through the doors, dragging your new pet behind you. His footsteps were brisk as he made for that same doorway, his fists balling at his sides as he stifled the urge to redirect his anger unto the unsuspecting door man. No, he’d best save that anger for you, transform it into something that would make you suffer, as he’d been forced to endure this evening.

He slipped through the doors, instantly greeted by a much quieter atmosphere, the laughter and music of the event muffled behind the now closed doors. Across the room, he saw you slip into the elevator, glimpsing just a hint of a smirk on your perfect lips as the doors slid closed and engulfed his view of you.

Annoyance pricked at his chest, he’d have to wait for the elevator to come back down. That was too much time gifted to you, time that could easily be used to bring you one step closer to coming undressed for that man. He’d never found himself wishing for a stairwell more than he did right now, but Capitol architecture stupidly insisted that stairs were a concept made only for the districts.

Coriolanus trudged his way over to the elevator, running an impatient hand through his hair as he watched the countdown of the various different floors commence on the monitor. His residence was the topmost floor, an expensive suite that the Plinths had gifted him on his day of recognition. He’d been kind enough to allow you to stay in one of his rooms, to have you in his proximity at all times where you’d more than once enjoyed the free luxury of his lifestyle, and this is how you’d repaid him—by bringing other men into his sacred space.

He couldn’t help but imagine what you were up to at this instant. The thought of you trapped beneath the man on one of the sofas overlooking the city made him bite the inside of his cheek—those were the sofas he’d so often pinned you to, forcing you to admire the view as he admired you, demonstrating his praise for your beauty through the actions of his fingers in your cunt.

When Coriolanus had first met you, he had thought you hated drawing attention, especially when it warranted a much speedier death in the games. You’d always been so reserved, so hellbent on silence as you kept a calculating eyes on anybody who wasn’t you. He’d like that quiet air about you, it was a call for guidance, a plea for somebody to claim your trust—he knew he could have given that to you.

But now, Coriolanus could have laughed at that thought.

You, hating attention? What an odd facade he’d so easily been fooled by—but he’d grown smarter since your first encounter. He knew the real truth now. What a glorious night that had been, the first time he’d taken you to bed. He could still smell the desperation that had trailed from your cunt as his nose burrowed into your swollen and beckoning clit—the way his hands had squeezed the skin of your inner thighs a faint blue in his attempt to trap them against the bed. They’d been so eager to wrap around his neck, to make him prisoner within your euphoria. He’d shown his disapproval by wedging your thighs further apart, an action that earned a shocked moan from you, coupled with a gasp at the growing aggression of his tongue inside of you.

How he enjoyed being the puppeteer of your body, pulling your limbs every which way until you’d been contorted and opened up for him to exploit. You often needed reminding that you were sentenced to his will, made prisoner to his desires.

He could still feel the faint traces of your arousal that had painted pictures across the sharp lines of his jaw, mercilessly freed by the way his tongue had ravished your folds and plucked from you what little dignity and silence you had managed to fashion up until that very moment. No matter how much you’d pretend to feel indifferent to his attention, your body had always betrayed you—it was unashamedly and passionately thankful to his ministrations.

Your pathetic moans still echoed on a loop in the dark corners of his mind—an ear worm he couldn’t discard of, though he couldn’t honestly admit that he’d want anything of the sort. It spurred him on, serving as a constant reminder of his pretty possession, and just how much you needed him—his touch, his validation, his attention. He was the poison-kissed oxygen that you couldn’t help but inhale, fooling yourself that it would somehow replenish the air in your lungs and give you the freedom of living, existing, all the while your every bodily cell came closer and closer to becoming his. It didn’t take much for him to claim all that you were and all that you could be, only the right words and that glorious goddamn night in bed.

He’d completely remade you in his image, branded you with his bedroom generosity, always leaving you with just enough to satisfy, but never enough to last for more than a few hours. You always came back begging for more.

What an attention whore.

At last, the elevator dinged its arrival, the doors opening to welcome Coriolanus inside. He slipped in almost instantly, moving to press the button of the top floor. When the doors finally closed, he became trapped in the air lingering inside, noticing a trace of your sweet perfume. He’d come to admire that scent, thought of it as a way to identify every place you’d been in. But your sweet scent had fused with the musky odour of that strange man, an unpleasant smell that suffocated your own in mere seconds. He could only imagine that same odour plastering itself to your neck and all across your clothes as the man forced himself onto you, enjoying what didn’t belong to him.

After a few minutes, the elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal two intertwined bodies at the other end of the lobby. You were pinned against the doors to Coriolanus’ suite, the man’s hands wandering beneath your dress and up your magnificent thighs, shrivelled lips sloppily searching the skin of your neck. Your head was tossed back against the wood, eyes sown shut as you let slip the sweetest of moans, a sound that Coriolanus had claimed as his own.

He barged through the elevator doors, the sound of his angered footsteps earning your attention. You lowered your head to him, watching with a playful smile at what was about to unfold. He ignored it, the satisfaction in that grin, the sense of achievement at your ability to control him, have him trailing after you like a dog on a leash. He’d let you have this moment, to savour its short-lived existence because once he was through with this man, he’d show you just how much trouble you’d caused him.

Coriolanus grabbed the oblivious man at the collar of his shirt, too far gone to think with his brain rather than his cock to notice he’d appeared, and plucked him from you. He shoved the man away, who stumbled backwards with his footsteps serving as clear evidence of mild intoxication. The toad began protesting, before his eyes finally found Coriolanus and his lips clamped shut on a look of realisation.

“You come into my house, drink my wine, enjoy my woman, all without a trace of shame?” Coriolanus snapped, his voice gruff with built-up anger.

The man fashioned an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean any offence, Mr. Snow, I swear by it!” His hands made frantic gestures, eager to exonerate himself. “It was her that came onto me, she invited me back here, suggested we get to know each other better—“

Coriolanus lifted his chin, his glare cold as he stared down his nose at the man. “Are you implying that it’s her fault?” It most certainly was, but if Coriolanus had to endure all that had just happened, he intended to have some fun with it.

The man stilled with a look of uncertainty that passed between you and Coriolanus, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“Are you even a man at all, if you’re so easily influenced by a girl that bats her lashes at you and caresses your arm one time?” He had to ignore the irony in that statement; he could’ve almost been talking into a mirror. “You’re pathetic, blaming your lack of control and better judgement on her,” he said, eyes hardening as he took a step forward, the man simultaneously retreating a step with a gulp.

“Go find whatever excuse of a manhood you claim to have in somebody else’s cunt, and don’t let me catch you back in this building. It wont be words that warn you off next time.” His hands clenched into fists at his side, itching to grab the fleeing man and grace him with a well-earned punch—but he wouldn’t gift you that satisfaction, too.

When the elevator doors closed on the stranger, Coriolanus turned to face you. You were picking at your nails busily, as though the entire interaction had bored you beyond interest.

“What were you thinking?” He snapped at you, inching closer to glare you down.

You glanced up from your hands, offering a mere shrug as you crossed your arms and glanced up at him cheekily. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” you admitted. “Just wanted to feel some good things.”

Bitterness found its way onto Coriolanus’ tongue. “Do I not make you feel good enough?” He scolded coolly, his eyes searching yours angrily. “Would you rather I call that prick back and have him stick his two expired inches inside you?”

A hint of hurt seemed to widen your eyes, your expression shaped with confusion. “Didn’t think you cared what I got up to,” you muttered, glancing off to the side.

Coriolanus knew that to be complete bullshit, a feeble play at attempting to settle your own insecurities. He knew what you wanted to hear from him—that you mattered to him, that he wanted you to himself, that the mere thought of another man touching you would send him into inexplicable rage. To an extent, those were all true, but not in the way you'd wanted them to be, not in a way he was capable of giving.

He restrained the anger he felt towards you, knowing that he needed to take a gentler approach. You weren't in a state fit to endure his anger, not now. He needed to coddle you, to keep your emotions intact, otherwise he risked losing you. He couldn't have that.

“I care,” he said at last, moving a hand to grip at your chin. He’d forgotten how soft your skin was, it’d been weeks since he’d been permitted to touch you, business keeping him away from your warmth. He moved your face to his, searching between your eyes and your lips. “And you know that I care, too, or you wouldn’t have put on this little display.”

“You don’t care—not really, Coriolanus,” you snapped, your hand plucking his from your chin. “You constantly remind me that I’m nothing more than pleasure to you, an object you love to parade around, so as long as it’s your name engraved on me.”

Correct, he thought, his hand returning to his side. He gazed at you, the cogs of his mind reeling busily as he cautiously selected his next words. He couldn’t be angry with you, not now when you were so fragilely being kept together by emotion. It mattered what he said to you, even if the words weren’t honest. He knew that you needed reassurance, something akin to love to cling to, to keep you satisfied beside him. The condition that came with having a toy he loved to play with, was having to look after it, to ensure it didn’t break or wear with time.

That was exactly what he had to do with you, so he fed you whatever conniving words he could to keep you indulged in whatever illusion you’d had about your relationship with Coriolanus. A necessary evil to preserve his hold over you. He was selfish that way, but you were far too entertaining to let slip, and he did rather enjoy you—your company and your body.

Truthfully, you did have some sort of hold over him, and he’d let just enough of that truth show to control you, to convince you of his love for you.

“In all my years of existing, I've never once felt compelled to share my life with somebody else," Coriolanus told you softly. He moved his hand to return that same rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. "Not until you. I can't explain it, the way the mere thought of you with another man sends me into an unparalleled rage—to think that he could give you something I couldn't. The thought of somebody touching you the way I touch you. . . It's unbearable, unacceptable." He placed his hands on either one of your cheeks, lifting your head to face him. His words had too easily buttered you up, moulded your face with a look of infatuation. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have followed you all the way up here. I’d have let you fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But the fact is, I care—a lot.”

You still harboured a certain look of uncertainty in your eyes, those damned eyes that made him go feral. He could tell that you wanted to believe him, but you had reservations that he hadn’t yet satisfied with his words. He needed to say more, do more.

“Do you see me chasing after any other girl the way I chase after you?” He pressed on, grabbing your face a little more ferociously, just to sell the point. “You’ve consumed me, reduced any ounce of respect I’ve once had for myself to nothingness. I could’ve had you pawned off the Capitol after the games, to do whatever bidding they demanded of you, but I chose to keep you by my side, to spoil you with everything you deserve for winning the games. Tell me one person who’d be willing to do the same for a district nobody that they held no care for?”

Your eyes had grown teary at his words, your bottom lip quivering beyond your control. You had meant to look tougher, Coriolanus could tell, unmoved by his words, but you were only just a naive girl burdened with the need to be loved. So you believed it, every poisonous word dripping from his lips—lapped it up hungrily like a douse of honey, in fact. Perfect. He was gaining back your trust.

You caved into Coriolanus, his hands falling from your face to wrap around your body and keep you against him. His one hand curled around the nape of your neck while the other wrapped around the small of your back, so perfectly shaped to accommodate his arm. How could he be convinced that you were not made just for him, when every aspect of your body seemed to be carved just for his touch? The hand on your head began to move with rhythmic strokes across your hair, his lips moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head. He rested his chin where he’d placed his kiss, as though sealing in the sensation, before he spoke up.

“You were incredibly selfish tonight,” he murmured. You pulled back subtly to glance up at him with slightly furrowed brows, and he lifted his chin from your head to gaze back at you impassively. “You put me through hell, making me watch as you flirted with that man, touched on him all over as you promised him sex. Do you think that was fun for me?”

Your eyes glinted with a hint of guilt, your lips parting with a soft no.

“No,” Coriolanus agreed, his eyes undeniably annoyed as he glared at your guilt-ridden expression. His fingers ventured along your back, finding the zip to your dress, the only thing keeping your body prisoner in the fabric. He tugged at the zip, harshly at first, his need to punish you poking through his actions, but he had to refrain from that for the time-being. More slowly, he began to pull the zip down your body. “I think it only fitting that you should be punished for your little games, don’t you agree?” His eyes flickered back up to yours coolly, almost challenging you to disagree.

The fabric of your dress grew loose on your body, the straps beginning to slide along the slope of your shoulders. You glanced up at him in silence, not wanting to admit the words, but the neediness on your expression told him that you were all game for your punishment—not that it ever was something unpleasant. Coriolanus was always generous when it came to putting you in your place.

“Glad we’re on the same page, dove,” he said, the dress releasing your body at last. It pooled onto the floor around your heels, leaving you barren save for the bra suffocating your breasts. He glanced down at your lower half, faintly surprised to find that you’d neglected the courtesy of wearing any underwear. "Was this supposed to be an apology?" He asked, glancing back at you through a charming smirk.

A smile broke through onto your lips. "I thought it'd make undressing me quicker," you replied, lowering yourself to remove the heels from your feet. You were glad to be free of that hell. They made your calves look good, but they were torture on your feet.

"Well, aren't you considerate?" Coriolanus responded, then paused before adding. "So you knew how this night would end, with you and I nothing but a sexual amalgamation?”

"It was more of a hope,” you replied as you straightened yourself up.

Coriolanus' constraint gave in at your insinuations, his hand moving to caress your cheek, his eyes lowering to your perfect lips that he craved to taste in that very moment. You reached up to deliver the unspoken need onto his lips, but he kept you grounded with a hand around your collarbone. "You're not kissing me with those lips," he told you. “Not after that prick has wiped his saliva all over you.”

His hand left your body to reach into his blazer pockets. He pulled out a key, his hand snaking around your waist to slip the key into the door hole. His face was intentionally leaned close to yours, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concentration as he struggled to unlock the door, and because he could smell the man’s cologne clinging desperately to your skin. He’d need to take care of that before the evening could proceed, it was a detrimental hinderance to his cock. At last, the doors gave in with a loud click, and he pulled the key from the lock.

He leaned back with a curt beckoning of his chin. "After you,” he said, placing the key back into his blazer, his eyes not once neglecting yours.

You gave him a long stare, almost daring to be disobedient before you clearly thought better of it. You bent over to collect your dress and your shoes before turning to push the doors open. Coriolanus dropped his attention to your ass, which practically begged for his approval as it bounced with your every step. He entered inside after you, closing the doors behind him.

You ventured a few steps into the well-furnished living room of the suite and tossed your clothing onto the nearest sofa, your eyes trained on the glass walls that offered a breath-taking view of Panem. You’d always marvel over the cityscape as if it was your first time seeing it, but in all honesty, it was the fact that the lights of Panem fashioned a different colour each night, and it always seemed to illuminate new buildings and views that you’d never noticed before.

Coriolanus watched you, your hand absentmindedly reaching to hold your elbow as you admired the view—one that you’d already seen countless times before, he thought. He wondered whether you were contemplating your circumstances in this instant, as if the reality of what you’d done had finally started to sink in, and what the consequences to follow would be. He could read you fairly well, but there were still moments that your thoughts were lost on him.

“Are you scared?” He asked, his voice echoing throughout the empty space.

You turned to face him, your hands falling to your side. The lighting was dim, but the amusement etched onto your features were clear. “Scared? I didn’t survive the games only to be scared of you, Coriolanus Snow. Besides, this is hardly our first rodeo. I can’t imagine there’s much more surprises you could spring on me.”

Coriolanus cocked his eyebrows, smiling at those words. He appreciated your effortless wit. Most of Panem’s ladies were annoyingly submissive in their conversation, saying only what they thought he wanted to hear, as though it’d make them more desirable to him. You didn’t need to be told what to say, you just said it, and he was glad for it. Control could be exhausting, especially when he strove to maintain it in almost every aspect of his life. It was refreshing to know that he didn’t have to control your personality, too.

“Good,” he said, inching closer until he could reach out a hand to grab your arm. He turned you around forcefully, cool fingers teasingly tracing the skin of your shoulder as he made his way down to the clasp of your bra. He undid the hook, freeing your breasts from the pretty white lace, before tossing it onto the sofa beside your other discarded items. He turned you back to him, his eyes instantly lowering to the hardened nipples crowning your soft breasts. “Somebody’s eager,” He jested, his voice a soft rumble as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Did you want something from me?”

“You know I always do, Coryo,” you responded, taking your lower lip into a subtle bite.

Coriolanus’s eyes hardened at that nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded. That version of himself had died a long time ago.

Your eyebrows cocked at his tone, your lips momentarily pursed before you asked, “should I call you Mr. Snow instead?”

“Just Coriolanus,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to remove his crimson blazer. Your eyes were stalking his every move. He could tell that you wanted nothing more than to reach out to what little clothing remained on his body and tear it away mercilessly—that you wanted him to take you right here at this very instant. But he was faintly impressed at your patience as you decided against any reckless action, instead opting to wait for his next command.

He folded his blazer and draped it over his arm, his free hand beckoning for you to follow him to his bedroom. “Come on.”

Your eyes followed his footsteps, your disbelief keeping your feet glued to the ground. Coriolanus glanced over his shoulder when your footsteps didn’t commence behind him. Your reaction was justifiable. He’d never once once invited you into his room in all the months you’d lived with him. He knew that you were foolishly thinking that this moment marked an intimate milestone in your relationship, that this act was an attempt for him to show just how much you meant to him.

“Problem?” He asked.

You willed away the dumbfounded look on your face, offering a half-hearted no as you caught up to Coriolanus. As if the sentiment was fragile, you merely walked ahead of him in silence, afraid that one wrong word would revoke the invite.

He trailed behind you as you approached the door to his bedroom. You tossed a glance over your shoulder as you sought out confirmation in your actions. Coriolanus gave a small nod, an encouraging smirk poking through. You smiled back, turning your attention to opening the door. You slipped inside, your attention instantly flying to the furniture that occupied the space. It was modest, very limited to necessities.

The bed, needlessly big, was slightly undone, the comforters left untidy as though he’d just climbed out of bed and the covers half pulled from the pillows—a picture frozen in time. A plate and a mug was stacked onto the bedside table, the previous day’s clothes draped across the sofas near the windows. Your eyes were fixating every detail around the room, as though burning a mental picture into your mind as a souvenir for later.

Coriolanus moved to place his blazer beside his other clothes on the sofa. “Sorry for the mess,” he offered, moving to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t usually have the worry of entertaining guests.”

You turned to face him, your eyes lowering to his skilful fingers. “I like the mess,” you responded, making your way over to him. “It feels personal, seeing this side of you—allow me to.” You shooed his hands off the waistcoat, taking his place in undoing the buttons. You glanced up at him seductively, your eyes flickering down to his full lips.

He watched you undress him, slowly but surely, knowing that he could’ve done a much faster job. But he allowed you to take on the role, knowing that it made you feel important, that your body would show him just how thankful you were and how much these little details meant to you. Once you had unfastened the last button, you removed the waistcoat and admired his toned and broad physique, painfully concealed behind his white shirt.

Coriolanus glared at your wandering eyes, wondering whether you were trying to picture him naked. He’d never been fully undressed in all of their little rendezvous, it was something far too intimate for him. And there had only been a few occasions where he’d fucked you with his cock and not his fingers or his mouth. He’d found himself deriving the utmost pleasure when he got to solely focus on how you came undone for him, how powerful his every movement upon you really was.

When your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, he grabbed at your wrist. “Not yet,” he told you. “You still reek of him.” You frowned at his words, your hands falling to your sides in disappointment. “Come with me,” he said, moving past you toward the bathroom. “We’re going to take a little bath.”

Your interest peaked at his words. “We’re going to bath together?” You asked curiously as you followed after him.

“You’re going to bath,” Coriolanus corrected as he reached the large alcove bathtub. He leaned over to turn on the tap. “I’m going to watch.” His hand trailed the many soaps and balms that lined the rim of the bathtub. He’d made it a mission to collect every scented product he could manage once he got his hand on the money, simply because he could, and he liked smelling good.

“Sounds perverted,” you shot at him, crossing your arms as you watched him draw your bath.

He grabbed ahold of a rose-scented oil and began pouring it into the water. “You didn’t agree to live with me because of my normalcy,” he said distractedly. “But because you knew just how much my so called perversion had to offer your pathetic, little, touch-starved body.”

He tossed a glance at you over his shoulder, satisfied by the red gleam that had snuck onto your cheeks. He turned his attention back to the tub, reaching for a bottle of bubble bath. He began adding it to the water, a few droplets reaching up to stain his shirt.

“In any case,” Coriolanus continued. “It’s the least you could do for me after tonight’s shit-show.” He placed the bottle back against the wall, closing the tap once the water had reached an appropriate level. He unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, taking a few paces back. He jerked his head at you. “Go on,” he demanded.

You unfurled into a dramatic stretch, parading your breasts as you faced him. “Join me.”

He fixed you with an unwavering stare, not so keen to play into another one of your games. “Get in.”

With one last glare, you turned and dipped one leg into the bath, instantly pulling back with a hiss. Your head snapped to face him. “It’s too hot,” you protested.

Coriolanus moved to retrieve a chair from the corner of the bathroom, placing it a few inches from where you stood. He sat himself down, offering a mere shrug to your words. “Good observation.”

“I’m not going to burn myself bloody just so that you can get off,” you spat.

“Then let’s kill some time while we wait for the water to cool down,” he suggested, his eyes once again tracing over every inch of your exposed body with keen interest.

You looked open to his request. “What did you have in mind?”

Coriolanus’s eyes flickered back up to you. “Touch yourself,” he said earnestly. You paused at his words, suddenly looking self-conscious, before you hesitantly began to caress your breasts. He watched your fingers squeeze and grope at your skin, imagining that it were his own hands in their stead, only he’d be a lot less kind in his touch. Your fingers trailed teasing circles around your nipples, further hardened at your own toying and his intense observation.

“Lower,” he ordered, feeling frustrated at your lack of venturing into your lower extremities.

Your eyes glinted at him, a look that seemed to say greedy. Yes, he was. Who could blame him? He’d grown up starving for most days of the year, now he’d take as much as he wanted.

His eyes fixated the hand that lowered in a painfully slow motion across your stomach, reaching that sweet spot housed between your legs. As your fingers began to fondle with your clit, you threw your head back with a pitiful moan. He knew he could’ve extracted a louder sound. He almost felt obliged to take over, but he had to remind himself that you were undeserving of his touch, that you needed to be punished with the urge to feel him, yet be denied that pleasure.

A few minutes of your fondling had passed before your ministrations eventually became too overwhelming to maintain control over your body. You lowered yourself to the bathmat, your hand not once leaving your cunt. You spread your legs open, offering a broader view to Coriolanus. Your eyes were glazed over as you glanced at him. He tilted his head slightly in approval, feeling his own cock growing interested at his view of your pathetic situation.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he praised, noting the way your eyes lowered to his pants. He parted his legs slightly to take the pressure off of his growing erection, eager to hide his arousal. He didn’t want you to notice just yet how much he was truly enjoying this. Your movements eventually became more erratic, incoherent sounds spewing from your lips.

“I need you, Coriolanus,” you managed to blabber out, your tired head resting onto the rim of the bathtub, eyes periodically fluttering closed as you alternated between consciousness and whatever universe of pleasure was found behind your eyes. “Please,” you begged.

“You’ll have me soon,” he said, “when I see it fit.”

“I’ve been good for you,” you protested breathlessly. “I’ve done everything you told me to.”

“You have a lot to atone for,” Coriolanus pointed out, his eyes lowering to where your hand had slowed its movements. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

You glanced at him past your tired lids, but you obliged nonetheless, adding a finger inside of your cunt to increase the pressure. He supposed it was fair, if he had refused to place his own fingers inside of you. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto lips as he watched a stream of white begin to trail from your opening, recalling how good you tasted. It was a shame, really, that it would go to waste onto the bathroom mat instead of onto his appreciative tongue. From the sound of your pathetic mewling and your ragged breathing, Coriolanus knew that you were growing close to your high. He didn’t intend for the fun to end just yet.

“I want you to continue until you feel like you’re going to cum,” he told you, though he wasn’t sure you’d heard him past you own noise. “And then I want you to stop just before that happens.”

“That’s mean, Coriolanus,” you managed to say.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, dove,” he said. “Now stop talking and focus.”

Your fingers picked up their pace with a newfound eagerness, the knot in your stomach growing inescapably larger, the urge to come undone becoming harder and harder to contain. Coriolanus wasn’t sure you’d obey his command at this point, you looked too far gone to resume control over your own actions. His eyes narrowed, watching closely at what fate you’d choose to follow. Much to his disappointment, you practiced constraint, your hips shooting up with anticipation, only to sink to the floor as you denied yourself the orgasm.

You glanced at Coriolanus past your teary lashes, a silent request for praise. He heeded your need, rising from his seat to crouch beside your slumped figure. He combed the loose hair from your face, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted your forehead.

“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured sweetly. He felt as though he could have choked on the banality of his words, but the soft look in your eyes as you gazed up at him made it worthwhile. He nodded to your hand, still resting on your cunt. “Show me how good you felt.”

You pulled your hand from its playground between your legs, creamy white webs entangled on your fingers. They pulled a string along your stomach as you lifted your fingers for Coriolanus to study.

“It almost looks like you don’t need my help,” he chuckled, his hand fastening around your wrist to bring your fingers to his lips. His blue eyes bore down into you as he took each of your fingers into his mouth. One by one, his tongue hungrily weaved around them, claiming your juices from your skin.

You gazed at him with a wild look ablaze in your eyes. “Don’t I deserve a taste?” You said. “After all, I did all the hard work. I deserve to taste the fruits of my labour.”

“You should be modest,” Coriolanus said once he removed your fingers from his mouth. “Nobody likes a brag.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you retorted lightly, your eyes glinting with exhaustion. “I like you.”

“Mhm,” he offered softly, placing your hand gently onto your chest. He reached his hand between your legs, an action that caused your thighs to stiffen around him. “Relax,” he cooed, pressing his palm into one of your thighs, encouraging you to open up to him.

“Sorry,” you said, easing off the defensiveness. “I’m sensitive down there at the moment.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, gazing at your fragile expression. Fuck, he could take you right here. His fingers moved with caution as they glided along the folds of your drenched cunt, gathering up your cum into untidy clumps. He followed a trail of arousal that had traveled down into the cleft of your ass, pressing a teasing finger into your asshole.

You gasped at the sudden invasion, and Coriolanus’s throat rumbled with a chuckle. He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You glanced at his slender fingers, not needing much convincing to take them into your mouth. You turned your attention to him as you began to suck at him suggestively, exaggerating your head bobbing as you made a point to cover the entire length of his fingers.

He watched you with a lopsided smirk, enjoying the whore-like behaviour you so willingly offered him. Now and again, he’d thrust his fingers a little too deep, more than what your throat could handle, which caused you to gag around him. Strings of your saliva had begun to slither down his exposed forearm, pleasantly warm on his skin. He imagined his cock in the stead of his fingers, enjoying the same warmth and wetness your mouth had to offer.

When you’d decidedly had enough of licking his fingers clean, you pulled your lips from him with a characteristic pop. Coriolanus reached that hand over the bathtub, dipping it into the water to feel its temperature. It had cooled down considerably, but it was still warm enough for a worthwhile soak. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers onto his shirt.

“The bath will get cold soon,” he told you. “Get in.”

“Is that all?” You asked disappointedly.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in stock for you.” He straightened up and took a few paces back as you perked with new resolve and found your feet.

He backed up to reclaim his position on the chair, crossing his legs as he watched you. Your back was momentarily on him as you climbed into the bathtub, the water sloshing a welcome. You submerged yourself into the warmth almost instantly, a content groan reverberating in your throat. His eyes lowered to your hand, which had began to spread the foam of the bubble bath across your bare chest and breasts.

“The water’s so good,” you murmured.

“Don’t get too relaxed,” he warned.

“Why don’t you join me, Coriolanus,” you said, your eyes fluttered open as you moved to fold your arms onto the lip of bathtub. You rested your chin onto your arms, glancing at the erection he could no longer conceal. “I’ll take good care of your little cock, that should keep me on my toes.” Your expression beamed at your choice of words, deliberately chosen to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus merely scoffed at your teasing. He had many things to prove, but the size of his cock was not one of them.

“You sure you could handle me, since you’re still so sensitive down there?” He asking mockingly. He leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to clench his chin, the other grabbing his elbow.

You tilted your head prettily to one side. “Only one way to find out,” you murmured, leaning back against the wall of the tub as you kicked your foot out and onto the edge. Water splashed partially onto the bathmat, but most had been caught by the bare floor.

Coriolanus lowered his eyes to the puddle. “You’re making quite a mess for someone who’s been in here for less than half an hour.”

“Give me an hour and you’ll see just how much of a mess I can make,” you challenged.

He lifted his chin to face you, his eyes narrowing the slightest. This side of you was something he’d never experienced before; you were a lot more daring, undoubtedly brought on by the importance you felt at being allowed the opportunity to bathe in his bathroom and in his company. He’d like to test just how long you could keep up this illusion of bravery, and how quickly you’d drop it when he had you sprawled onto his fingers.

“Come here, then,” he said, uncrossing his legs and spreading it as an invitation for your thighs.

Your eyes snuck a peak at his hard on before you broke away from your slutty pose and climbed from the warmth of the tub. You took a few steps toward Coriolanus, water and soap slithering down the curves of your body and onto the floor.

You stopped short of his legs. “You’re sure?” You asked, eyes making a point of the shirt and pants he still wore. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a little less on?”

Coriolanus grunted from a place of impatience, reaching out his hand to grab at your wrist. He pulled you into his lap, rough hands guiding your hips to comfortably straddle his clothed thighs. The soapy water coating your body began to bleed into his clothes, his pants the most affected, but he could hardly be arsed in this moment. He just needed to feel you, needed to use you. His fingers gripped at your thighs, his heavenly blue eyes boring down onto your strained expression as he began to forcibly guide your bare cunt over his bulge.

Coriolanus’s movements set a generous pace, endorphins bolting through your core each time his bulge struck your sensitive clit. The texture of his pants was harsh on your skin, creating a friction that seemed to generate copious amounts of heat—screw sticks and stones, this method of fucking could have started all the fires in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lower half instinctively beginning to cooperate as you rocked back and fourth in sync with his guidance.

Your head came to rest in the chiselled crook of his neck, his earthy fragrance fucking heaven-sent on your senses, further engulfing you in bliss. His throat vibrated against your ear with strained moans, they came as subtle grunts that prompted his hands to speed up the pace. He was so eager to feel you, to settle his drawn-out erection. You winced as his fingers burrowed into the skin of your thighs. He’d neglected all caution in your handling, his need to control your movements overpowering what slither of consideration he’d held for your comfort.

It didn’t take long for the stinging sensation to blend with your pleasure, slurred moans pouring from your lips as you felt cum begin to leak from your entrance. It lubricated the fabric of Coriolanus’s pants, offering some relief from the coarse material. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your face into his shirt, eager to muffle the mewls of pleasure you seemed to have zero control over. His chest rumbled with a breathy fuck, and you felt his body momentarily convulse with the overwhelming feelings your bodies shared.

You turned your head, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, drinking in the view of his adam’s apple, so prominent and manly. It bobbed as Coriolanus swallowed a moan. You brought your furthest hand forward to hook the side of his neck, pulling him against your lips. He didn’t resist, it’s almost as though he was too focused on his own work to pay attention to your own dealings. You littered sloppy kisses all across his neck, placing extra emphasis around his adam’s apple. You kissed all around the bulge before giving into your thoughts and dragging your tongue over it, leaving a sloppy trail in your wake.

The warmth and wetness of your tongue on his throat made Coriolanus release an unexpected groan, a hand leaving your hips to wrap around your throat. You let slip a chuckle at his action, and he held you out in front of him, his cold eyes glaring into yours as he decided to brutalise his movements. You moaned loudly, the sound strained as you forced it past his suffocating hold on your neck.

“Coriolanus,” you choked out breathlessly, your hands sliding along his broad shoulders. “I need you inside of me.”

“You’ve waited this long,” Coriolanus muttered. “You can wait a little longer.” His hold on your throat grew tighter, your vision starting to blur behind a mixture of fresh tears and your compromised oxygen.

He watched your eyes flutter closed and your teeth clench as you inched closer and closer to your edge, your nails digging through his shirt and into his shoulders, steading yourself against his aggression. His singular hand on your hip began to cramp at his incessant groping and steering, but he was beginning to feel his own orgasm approaching, and that was motivation enough to push through—that, and your whorish desperation.

He released his grip on your neck, the air returning to your lungs as a cough and a splutter. He hooked the nape of your neck and pulled you into the comfort of his shoulder, urging you to rest your tired head there as he finished you both off. With both hands once again firm on your hips, he picked up the pace. He rested his chin onto the crown of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed the scent of your conditioner to swallow his senses.

With each movement, he brought you down harder onto his cock, craving rougher strokes. The squelching of the cum coating your folds and spreading along his pants was music to his ears, and he gritted his teeth to bite back his ragged breathing so that he could continue to hear the way he’d transformed your cunt. He could feel his own pre-cum trickling from his tip, the warmth spreading along his shaft by the generosity of your wet folds. Fucking hell did he yearn to be inside of you, almost as much as you craved him, but he had to be stronger than his own desires.

It didn’t take long before every nerve tracing the length of his cock began to fire rapid impulses, the prolonged stimulation proving to be too overbearing. His lips parted with strained breaths, the black abyss behind his eyes beginning to birth a cosmos of anticipatory stars. The image built and built until he thrust you one last violent time along his cock, his hips rocking up into you, delivering just the right ounce of pressure before white engulfed his vision.

His grip on your hips loosened, his ears buzzing with the aftermath of his high. He hadn’t even realised that you’d come undone before he had, your whimpers and vulgar pleas lost in his concentration. The only evidence of your orgasm was the new patch of wetness that had marked his pants, a generous mixture of squirt and cum.

Your breathless voice sounded at his ear as you moved your head from under his chin. “I want to feel like that all the time.”

“That can be arranged, dove,” he chuckled hoarsely.

You felt his hand leave your hip, the skin there instantly growing cool. He dragged his fingers repeatedly along the wisps of your hair. It was as though he were petting a dog, only his touch was a lot gentler and more intimate. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, your lips parting with a content sigh as you waited for the ecstasy of your orgasm to dissolve. You rested your chin on his shoulder, listening to the calm of his breathing, focusing on his hand caressing your hair.

You pulled back to glance at him, his eyes questioning as he returned your stare. Your attention moved to his lips, they looked so soft and plump, not nearly red enough. You’d been robbed of the opportunity to nibble on them, to contort them between your own lips, to taste the wine he’d downed at the party. You didn’t think you’d be properly satisfied until you got your wish. Did that make you ungrateful?

Coriolanus offered a faint smirk, your thoughts loud and clear. How selfish of him, he’d forgotten to kiss you during your little ride. Not a train-smash, he had the entire night to make up for that. His hand on your hair tightened there, forcing you into his vicinity. You wanted to protest at the hairs pulling at your scalp, but you hadn’t gotten the chance, not when his lips silenced yours in a hungry tumble.

He didn’t kiss you as often as you would’ve liked, but when he did, it was always imbued with passion, his movements erratic like he’d been starving and you were the first source of food he’d encountered in days. You got lost in the movement of his lips, the pace so fast that you couldn’t properly match it, though not for lack of trying. You allowed yourself to be swept up in his kiss, accepting that he was in control.

Coriolanus moved his hands to grab ahold of your breasts, his attention marvellously divided between fondling them and tracing his tongue along the inside of your mouth. You moaned into him, the sound muffled and lost to your entanglement. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, offering a sharp nip that caused you to wince in surprise. You felt his lips broaden in a smug smile, his hands neglecting your breasts and trailing a seductive path down your waist to deliver a crisp spank to your ass.

The skin stung where he’d struck you, but he was so quick to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing. The curves of your ass fit so perfectly into his palms. He pulled his lips from yours, not sparing even an instant for you to process his movements before his sharp nose found sanctuary in your cleavage. He littered kisses there before moving to plant a trail around the circumference of your breasts.

“Coriolanus,” you moaned, your head lolling back.

He hummed against your skin, a halfhearted acknowledgement. His hand found its way between your thighs, his middle finger sliding between your labia where beads of your brand new arousal waited to greet him. He slathered his fingers in your juice, lubricating the skin before he slid his finger into your entrance.

Your entire composure collapsed at that, the built up suspense of needing him inside you satisfied at last. Your entrance clamped around him at first, the sensation always forgotten with how few and far apart these glorious moments were spread, but within a fraction of a second, you melted onto his finger.

You nibbled at your lower lip, the bite deepening as Coriolanus’s teeth found your nipple. He alternated between tugging at your hardened buds and swirling his tongue around and all over it, mischievously marking steaks of saliva along your skin. A few seconds later, his ring and index finger joined the party within you.

Your grip on his shoulders lowered down his back, eagerly clawing at the hard and chiselled muscles, but his damned shirt got in the way. You pulled back, Coriolanus’ lips robbed of your breasts. He glanced at you, his fingers continuing their thrusts. Your hands flew to tug at the buttons of his shirt. The first few you’d managed to undo, but you had finite patience for the others, resorting to an aggressive tug that split the buttons from the fabric.

“Are you going to pay for that?” Coriolanus jested lightly.

“I’m sure there’s plenty more shirts where that one came from,” you said hastily, yanking the sleeves down his broad shoulders.

You instantly dove in to kiss at his chest. He’d never been excessively muscled, but he was still strong and toned, his frame broad and absolutely mouth-watering to gaze upon. Your hands wandered along his chest, sliding along his shoulders and down his arms. You attempted to tug his shirt all the way off, Coriolanus aiding your motion as he momentarily pulled his fingers from inside you.

He rolled his shoulders and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. You glanced at his torso, now completely exposed to you. You couldn’t stifle the smile on your lips, thinking that he looked a lot like a male stripper—bare-chested yet still clothed from the waist down, presenting himself on a chair. All he was missing was a sexy dance of some sort.

Coriolanus frowned at your gawking. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

You pursed your lips. “Nothing,” you answered, placing a kiss on his lips. You moved to murmur in his ear, “now If it’s not too much to ask, would you kindly stick your fingers back inside of me?”

When you withdrew to look at him, Coriolanus wore a wicked smirk. “What a slutty thing to say.” His fingers returned to your cunt, but instead of easing his way inside, he opted for his whole hand at once.

You didn’t know whether you were more shocked at his gesture, or the way your cunt had easily welcomed him. His movements were considerably less cautious than before, but you didn’t care about that now, only that he was finally inside of you. You let out a lengthy moan, so eager to verbalise your appreciation. Your hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them together as you tilted your head back.

You closed your eyes and focused on his hand inside you, how each thrust grew deeper and closer to your sweet spot. It’s as though he’d already mapped out your insides, his fingers knowing exactly which way to wander. Gods, you truly didn’t know whether you or Coriolanus enjoyed this more. He kept up a regular pace for a while, and you’d quickly grown impatient and needy for his brutality.

“Faster,” you complained.

Coriolanus slowed his movements, coming to a complete stop. He wholly expected the miserable look on your face as your head snapped down to face him. How could he allow you to think that he was here to serve you, as opposed to you serving him. He wasn’t just going to hand you what you wanted, life certainly hadn’t been that generous with him. No, you’d have to work for it.

“Okay, we can go faster,” he said, cocking his head slightly. You regained a spark at those words, but it quickly blew out at what came next. “But you’ll do it yourself, since you’re unsatisfied with what I’m giving you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—“ you attempted to protest, but Coriolanus cut you off with free his index finger pressing against your lips, his lips fashioned in a hush.

“No talking,” he murmured. “Just get to work.” He beckoned down to your cunt, his hand motionless inside of you.

Devastated at having to do the work yourself, you crossed your arms around his neck, your expression adorably resentful as you lifted your hips and began to ride him. Coriolanus lowered his free hand to rest at your hip, his attention wandering to your breasts. He couldn’t have ignored them even if he tried, not when they were bouncing inches from his face and calling out for attention. Your moans quickly commenced, your hips already starting to tremble with your next orgasm. You tossed your head back, your movements becoming uncoordinated, like your body had already started to give up.

Coriolanus felt your walls begin to clench around his hand, glancing up to glimpse your face. “Look at me,” he called to you. Your head lowered to face him at once, your eyelids drooping. “Are you going to cum?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, followed by a strewn out moan.

Good, he thought. His hand on your hip began to press against your movements, interrupting the pace you’d managed to get going. Your eyes widened as your orgasm retracted into a dissatisfying gasp, the high that had been building instantly collapsed at your sudden lack of movement.

“Coriolanus,” you snapped, your tone coming across as a whine. You’d become frustrated with his teasing, and your body shared the sentiment. Your clit ached now, exhausted tremors seizing every muscle of your body. “You’re being a dick!”

“No,” he countered, pulling his hand from your entrance. He looked condescending as his eyes flickered across you face. “I’m punishing you, just like I promised. You’re getting exactly what you deserve, but you’re spoiled and used to getting your way.”

You didn’t have anything to retort, so you glared at him in silence, ignoring the hurt that his words had inflicted upon you.

“Don’t pout,” he murmured, wiping his wet hand along your thigh.

Then, without warning, he hoisted you up at the thighs and manoeuvred you bridal-style from the bathroom towards the bedroom. He lowered you onto the undone comforters of his bed, leaning down with you to place a swift kiss on your furrowed brows. He straightened up at the foot of the bed, his hands reaching for your calves.

“You want to cum?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around your legs to pull you down the bed and closer to where he stood. “I’ll make you cum, over and over again.” That was a promise.

Your lips parted with shock, words scattering from your tongue as his hands travelled over yours knees and grabbed at your thighs. He pried your legs apart, exposing your cunt to him. The last view you captured of him was the way his eyes traced your exposed lower half, a barely noticeable smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. Then, his head dipped into you, his tongue flat and rough on your folds.

You threw your head back into the sheets, your fingers instantly curling into the material as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from getting carried away into another universe. Coriolanus was conscious to strike his nose against your tender clit every so often, clearly enjoying the way it sent a jerk through your body. It was like his own personal control-switch to play with. You were too exhausted to limit the noises that you produced for him, so everything came out a loud and blabbering mess. You didn’t ever want to stop being touched this way.

Coriolanus was a clean man. He liked to keep his hair tamed, his jaw void of any developing beard that he felt would deface his appearance. But it had to have been a week since his last shave, you thought. You could feel the faint stubble poking through, grazing your intimate area as he ravished you below. It was the perfect addition to your arousal, adding just enough noise to push you into overstimulation.

You fought the urge to lift your lower half from the sheets, to greedily claim a deeper thrust of his tongue. He wouldn’t take kindly to that, and you didn’t think you had the capacity to endure any more teasing. Instead, you opened your thighs even wider, your hands releasing the comforter to grip at your breasts.

Coriolanus approved of your behaviour, his praise coming in the form of his tongue up your entrance. You let slip a breathy gasp, your jaw clenching at the lightning that seemed to obscure your vision.

“Fuck, Coriolanus,” you drawled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Please—let me cum!”

He hummed against your clit, the vibrations serving as the fucking icing on top of this sex-themed cake. You core knotted, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, the pressure building and building and threatening to spill over as Coriolanus’ tongue picked up the pace. He twirled your clit around, his fingers pinching at your thighs, and just like that, your body released all the tension of the evening.

Your chest bobbed up and down with heavy breathing, not feeling as though you could bear to open your eyes. It’s only when you felt Coriolanus’ warmth withdraw from your thighs that you lifted your head to glance up at him. He straightened up and met your gaze with an impressed look, his perfect lips offering a smile—a genuine smile. The sight set off butterflies in your stomach. He was proud of you and your performance.

“You did well, dove,” he praised.

You beamed at his compliment, words not easily extracted from him. The sheen on his jaw caught your attention, your heart jolting with shame to see him absolutely doused in your juice. It trailed well down his neck and onto his chest, making a point to follow the natural contours of his pecs.

“I’m sorry—“ a hand flew to your mouth, hardly believing that you’d produced a mess of that magnitude.

“Sorry?” Coriolanus mocked, his perfect teeth flashing in a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s a compliment. You show your appreciation like a real woman, just the way I like it.”

You watched as his hands lowered to his red trousers, his fingers moving to undo the button. You glanced back at him in alarm.

“You didn’t think we were done just yet?” He asked, his smile turning wicked as he unzipped his trousers and pulled it down. “I edged you twice,” he explained. “And I’d like to think I’m a fair man. So,” he paused and lowered his underwear, which freed his erection. “I owe you another good time.”

He stepped out from the last of his clothing, towering over your body as he inched his way toward you. “I won’t lie, though,” he murmured once he’d reached your ear. “I’m doing this mostly for me. I think I’ve waited long enough to feel you, really feel you.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes large and pleading like a pathetic mutt begging for scraps. “I don’t think I can take any more, Coriolanus.”

“Did it feel good, what you did just now?”

“It felt like heaven,” you told him softly.

“Then this time will feel like being completely reborn,” Coriolanus insisted, his hand relocating hair from your sticky face. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll push through because this is your punishment, and punishment is not always meant to be enjoyable.”

You glanced off to the side, hating how much the cold look in his eyes stirred something inside of you.

Coriolanus found satisfaction in the way his words kept you silent. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him, his thumb pressing into your lower lip before he planted a hollow kiss in its stead. He placed his forearm beside your head, leaning onto that side as his other hand reached down for his cock. He gave a lazy pump across his hard length, a pathetic attempt at spreading his pre-cum. He didn’t need to do any better, not when your drenched cunt offered enough lubrication for him to enter without a struggle.

And it did, without a single hitch, as he pushed himself inside of you. Your soft gasp sounded in his ear, his attention still trained below. Once he was sure he was properly inside of you, he turned his head up and placed his arm on the other side of your head. You felt so warm and welcoming, definitely a lot more relaxed than the previous times he’d stuck his cock inside of you.

He began to thrust, not having much patience to start slow and gradually build up the pressure. This entire evening had been leading up to this moment, the opportunity for him to be in this exact position. He’d spent all of his patience, now he just needed to finish what he’d set out to do. He was pleased to feel your hands snake beneath his arms and take up a hold on his back, that is until your nails suddenly sunk into his skin.

He let out pained moan, his gaze growing fierce at the satisfaction on your face. Two could play that game. He withdrew his length a far way out, his tip almost slipping from your entrance entirely, before he rammed himself back inside with an animalistic thrust. His tip collided with your g-spot, a harsh and sudden greeting to the sensitive area.

You let out a scream, your stomach lifting against him. Before you could process the shock, he rammed into you again, and again, and again. Each time, he returned with the same force, and not once did he fail to miss his target. Your nails in his skin continued to sink deeper, the both of you reduced to nothing more than grunting and gasping.

The bed creaked with every movement, the room echoing with the raw percussion of your skin-on-skin contact. Coriolanus bucked into you with such aggression that he began to moan with every sway of his hips. His hands, trapping your head on either side, slipped behind your head to grip at your hair. He yanked, opening up your neck to him. You moaned as his lips buried against your skin, the tip of his nose flattening into you as his teeth sought out your skin.

His movements became jerky, his teeth gritted as he grunted against your neck. You slipped a hand from his back to bury it into his hair, fastening your fingers around his blond wisps that had turned curly from the sweat of his activity.

“I’m going to cum,” he breathed into your neck, his hand flying to one of your thighs. He pulled it up to wrap around his lower half, his thrusts growing violently needy. “Fuck,” he spat, then called your name desperately. You felt too good, especially now that your walls seemed to clench around him—he knew that you were close, too.

Your second orgasm arrived, the hot wetness pooling around his length. He couldn’t maintain his control anymore. At last, he gave himself over to his pleasure, his movements becoming sluggish as he felt his release inside of you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, not until he felt himself empty every last drop inside of you.

Coriolanus collapsed beside you, his hand finding your cheek and pulling your head against his chest. For many minutes, nobody spoke, each one struggling to regain their breath. His other hand held your lower body against him, keeping his cock secure inside of you. He could feel your mingled juices leaking along his thigh and onto the sheets, a mess he didn’t mind right now.

You burrowed into Coriolanus’ arm, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say after an ordeal like this. Tonight had been his most brutal fuck thus far.

Your body ached everywhere, and you weren’t sure your swollen clit would ever forgive you for what you’d brought upon it. You supposed it served you right for trying to make him jealous by flirting with another man. You’d never stupidly test his limits that way again, that was for sure. You two laid in comfortable silence, riding out the last of your highs.

“Coriolanus,” you called to him softly, your fingers playing with his. “Do you love me?”

Coriolanus tilted his head down to you, his eyes widening at the sudden question. His lips parted to say something, but he quickly bit on his tongue. It was clear that your need for his attention had grown into something more profound, that you’d started to care about him in more than just what he had to offer your body. He turned his gaze up to the roof. “My position doesn’t permit me the time to love,” he answered carefully.

Your hair shuffled against his arm as you sat yourself up to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He turned his gaze back onto you, calling your name softly. “I have goals to achieve in this world. It leaves little time for relationships.”

Your eyes held disappointment. “Then what’s the point of all of this?”

“The point,” Coriolanus said, taking your hand into his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles across your skin. “Is that we keep each other company, offer a comfort that others couldn’t gift us even if they tried. We satisfy each other in ways that only we know how to.”

“So I’m just a source of entertainment to you?” You snapped, attempting to pull your hand from his, but his grasp on you tightened.

“Am I anything different to you?” He asked, his tone level, his cool eyes challenging. “Don’t mount a high horse, not when you entered this knowing exactly what you were in for. I take care of you and I make you feel good—that’s plenty more than you would’ve gotten back in the district and in any other location in the Capitol, for that matter. Would you rather go back to your district, back to a cold bed and an empty stomach with nobody to rely on? Maybe you’d rather I put you on the market for as some Capitol slut looking for her next sponsor. I can make that happen—“

“No!” You interrupted, your hard eyes thawing with a look of horror, like you’d recalled all the terrible memories of your life in the district. It was far from pleasant, a past you’d have liked to forget for good. You had nobody, nothing to return to.

As for the Capitol, you knew that there were infinite weirdos and perverts that would marvel at the opportunity to get their hands on a hunger games victor, especially one that had been branded by Coriolanus Snow more than once. You could only imagine what sort of prize that made you, a collectible to be displayed. The thought made your stomach turn.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your head lowering in defeat. “I just want you.”

Coriolanus’s eyes raked across your figure, so slumped in submission and hopelessness. He realised then just how much he’d broken you, reshaped you into a lapdog that would only eat directly out of his hand. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you, too. Only you.” His free hand moved to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. “And maybe. . . you could teach me how to love.”

Your eyes widened at those words, the hand clasped in his going stiff. He tugged at you, pulling you into him. Your head found its way nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his chin moving to rest atop your head. He continued to play with your fingers, his other arm cushioning your neck and holding you against him. He felt your breathing slow into an easy sleep, your warm breath flushing against his chest. He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply at the sweet scent radiating from your hair. He allowed it to lull him to sleep, mulling over your interaction.

He’d known the truth for years already—that his heart bore no capacity for love. It had saddened him, at first, made him feel as though he’d been formed wrong in the womb. His father had loved his mother enough to bring him into this world—his cousin, Tigris, had loved him, too, to the point where she’d have sacrificed everything to ensure that he’d survived the war. Sejanus, too, had loved him like a brother, trusted him with all that he was, and it had ultimately killed him.

All his life, Coriolanus had been cradled with love, but he’d been forever cursed with the inability to return it. It had taken him years to accept it, until one day, everything had clicked into place.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love, not when the world had become a disastrous mess in need of order, in need of somebody to bring it to that stage. He knew then that he could offer the order that Panem needed. Peace came at the cost of blood, and blood came at the cost of strength. Strength meant that love had no place and no say in the hard decisions to be made, for its love that made you vulnerable, and vulnerability was a weakness. He didn’t bear that weakness, and he never would.

As for you? Well, you were somewhat of a complicated matter as of now. When it came down to it—the decision between you and his destiny, he’d choose destiny without a doubt. But for now, he’d keep you close. He’d shower you with attention, spoil you with his touch, offer you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. And once you’ve lost all worth to him, he’d discard of you.

Coriolanus knew that his path was one headed straight for the top, to claim the title of president of Panem. All that he’d done to get here, everything that he’d achieved up until now, it was all just the beginning. He was glad now—that he could not find it in himself to love anyone. It left him free of any liabilities, gave his enemies not even a fraction of power to hurt him.

For it’s the things we love most that destroy us.

════════════════════════

You MUST know I had to include that iconic line

Anyways, I’m sincerely sorry that this fic is like 15k words. I always tell myself to keep it simple but I’ve literally got no say over what happens once my fingers start typing away. I hope you all have enjoyed this read. I’m not TOO sure how I feel about it, but I think I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve proof-read it so much that I honestly can’t stand it anymore.

This is my first every coryo fic and it was incredibly daunting to write, considering that he is such a complex character to portray and because I unintentionally resorted to flowing between his and the reader’s perspective, which I usually hate, but shit happens. I’ve never read the books (I am getting them for my birthday yay) so it was difficult to get inside of his mind given that I’ve never trod there before. In any case, I hope that I did his character justice in this blabbering mess, even if I did add my own sadistic twist lmao.

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVELIES🎄

Your comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you!! ~

════════════════════════

[redheadsramblings]

Ship Sleep Dynamics

I was tagged by the lovely @aetherflowers for this 🥰

I need more screenshots of the two of them. All the ones I have, someone has their eyes closed or is pulling a weird face 🤣

So I have to keep reusing the few good ones 😅

💚Emmrich Volkarin 💀 Rowan "Rook" Ingellvar💜

How often do they sleep together?

Once the relationship is a go every night, but not in a sexual sense as Rowan is not ready (also I haven't quite decided if their first time is the coffin or not) and he would never ever think of rushing her. Emmrich is horrified when he sees Rowan's sleeping situation at the Lighthouse. And will not hear of leaving his darling to sleep in a cold, damp room on that abominable sofa with nary a pillow or blanket that isn't her pack and cloak (his exact words).

It starts with them just in the same bed, he being a gentleman offers to go sleep elsewhere, but Rowan asks him to stay. So he puts a bolster pillow down the centre of the bed so she feels safe and as a barrier. Which lasts all of her first nightmare. He knew she sleepwalked because of bad dreams, what he didn't know was how it all started before she started walking. Lots of whimpering, talking in her sleep (he didn't know his heart could break over such innocuous phrases like No, Don't, or It hurts) so how can he not hold her and try to soothe her and the rest is history (OK the rest is kind of written but not really, and I want to keep some things a mystery for later fic chapters)

Where do they sleep?

Once the relationship is a go they're both in Emmrich's bed in his room at the Lighthouse (I am an Emmrich has a secret bedroom behind a bookcase truther) and again in Emmrich's bed in his flat/house in Nevarra once they go home. Before, Rowan didn't have a bed either in the Lighthouse or Nevarra. She barely had a room in the Necropolis before she had to leave after the War of the Banners.

How do they prepare to sleep?

Emmrich I see as have a very structured routine. A bath followed by applying his various lotions and potions to his hair and skin, I'm not saying the man has the Thedas equivalent to a Korean skincare regime, but I'm also not not saying it. Puts oh his fancy pyjamas (he strikes me as a silk pjs kind of man) then a calming cup of tea before brushing his teeth, getting his clothes ready for the next day, putting the ones from that day in the laundry basket. Then finally gets in to bed to read for a while before going to sleep.

Rowan in comparison is a lot simpler, not because she doesn't want to, but because she couldn't afford the lotions etc and never had the time or space. A wash if she can, then braids her hair, puts on her old worn shift and heavily darned socks (she's always cold), brushes her teeth, and then crashes out on the nearest flat surface. If she even bothers going to bed in the first place. She, Lucanis and Neve are giving each other a run for the worst insomniac in the Veilguard. Bellara is disqualified because she actually falls asleep while she's working.

Once they're sharing a bed, suddenly Rowan has a multitude of lotions, potions, and oils that Emmrich gifts her. She also has beautiful nightwear and warm slippers, stockings, and wraps to wear if she gets cold. Her old shift may have "accidentally" got burnt after a mysterious, very localised fire.

What do they wear to sleep?

Emmrich is an absolute silk pyjamas man and nothing will make me change my mind. In sumptuous jewel colours and no doubt embroidered with gold wherever it won't be itchy.

Rowan had a simple linen shift that is very old, faded, much mended and while it used to be black it is now a dingy grey shapeless thing that she has slept in for years. It's also the shift she wears under her "formal" dress when needed, or is her other dress that she wears when she's not on an expedition or patrol. It's ugly, shapeless, but it's all she has.

After Emmrich sees it, he makes it his mission to a) make sure she has beautiful things to sleep in and b) remove that shift from existence entirely. It's not that he doesn't think she's beautiful in it, she is stunning in his eyes no matter what she wears or looks like. It's the sheer magnitude of neglect and a life bare of anything like kindness or affection, it encompasses.

Do they cuddle?

Yes. Rowan is always cold and Emmrich is warm, so she always ends up draped over him and snuggled in, no matter her intention when she goes to sleep. Add in her nightmares and Emmrich noting that if he holds her, they are less frequent, then he sees no reason why they should deny themselves the pleasure of sleeping in each other's arms.

What are their preferred sleep positions?

Emmrich is a side sleeper preferably and Rowan is a curl up as small as I can to keep warm and maybe no one will find me if I'm small sleeper by necessity/upbringing to start. Once they're in the sharing a bed stage, then Emmrich is still a side sleeper with Rowan cuddled to his chest with her legs draped over his hips and her arm over her chest.

They do also often end up with Emmrich on his back and Rowan draped over his chest more often than not. She's unconsciously trying to get as much of her on his warmth, and even in his sleep he could never refuse her anything.

How easy do they fall asleep?

Emmrich falls asleep relatively easily, as long as he's not deep in his research or too deep in his own head.

Rowan just doesn't sleep unless she is just about ready to pass out, and even then it depends on how much caffeine she can get in her system before she crashes. Until she's sharing a bed with Emmrich. It's the first time she feels absolutely safe and secure, add in how warm she is, and she's out like a light.

It's not always effective as she's very good at ignoring her body's needs, but Emmrich knows if he can get her horizontal and next to him, then she'll sleep. That's the easy part. Catching her and getting her to listen is the hard part.

Do they toss and turn a lot?

Emmrich no unless he's in his own head.

Rowan to start, yes. She has nightmares, or a Dread Wolf in her head, or just bad headspace. Again, it gets better once they're sharing.

Do they snore?

Emmrich has been known to on occasion snore, but it's not all the time. And it's more gentle wuffles than full on snoring.

Rowan doesn't.

Who hogs the blanket?

Emmrich. Mostly only at the start and because he's used to having blankets to hog. Rowan doesn't fight for herself, even in her sleep. But as they're usually cuddles together, the blanket hogging quickly becomes a non entity.

What do they dream about?

Emmrich has mostly innocuous dreams, lots of whimsy and fade walking. He does have nightmares occasionally of losing his parents, losing Manfred after Blackthorn and after Tearstone losing Rowan and his fear of death.

Rowan has nightmares more than dreams. It's part of why she doesn't like to sleep. Not going to go into her nightmare subjects because a) Spoilers and b) dark subject maters.

How easily do they wake up?

Emmrich wakes up easily, but he typically sleeps deeply, so he doesn't wake up to every noise or movement once he's asleep.

Rowan sleeps like a 9-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory. She sleeps poorly if she even sleeps at all and every little noise or movement wakes her. It's from all her years of solo expeditions deep in the Necropolis, where sleeping too deeply was the fastest way to die quickly.

Once they're sharing a bed, she sleeps a bit better because she feels safe, but she still wakes up at the drop of a pin.

How awake they are afterwards?

Emmrich is fairly awake and chipper after waking, even if he had a late night.

Rowan is wide awake as soon as she opens her eyes and is usually on the move before then. She's not happy about it, but her survival hinged on it for too many years to easily unlearn it.

She gets more relaxed as they continue to share a bed and feel safe to grumble and take her time as she wakes up. But it's rare.

OK, this was so much fun, so I need to more people to do it so I can read about your ships and their sleep habits 😍

No pressure tagging:

@the-font-bandit @officialnostradamus @serbarris @emmg @themontess

@mosoderbergh @randomnonsensedragonage @galacticsparkles @sunny374940 @tinygameralec

@mistressandry @draco-illius-noctis @jukkaricity @holdingontojupiter @crimsen-khalessi

@pseudospaceship @notyourmamasdeerbat @curiouswisp @guacamolleee  @thequeenofthewinter

@queenmuzz @andthekitchensinkao3 @lavenderprose @caughtnyact @hedwigoprah

@sofiemystique @omabell-illustriert @soeasilyswayed @paramortality @theyearningghoul

@novaobscurity @ermagerdperpehs @kirain @razildor @mojo-bro-tho

@theshotsheardacrossworlds @dymme @mercars-musings @ar-ghilas-vir-banal @silshinobii

@serstolas @woundedsoul12 @dragonracer @starfleetteddybear @blightedcrow

@ferocious-notes @avoskorm @basic-x-witch

And anyone who sees this and fancies a go tag, you're it 😁

Dividers are by flowersforthemachines and can be found here

If you would like to go on my tag list, I have a post here where you can sign up

[mywitchyblog]

I just wanted to say your takes on age and shifting have been really helping me. I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy my teenage years and I feel like everything is falling apart in my adult life, so I really want to age myself down and experience life as a teen again. However, tiktok constantly made me feel like a creep and I was even starting to doubt myself and my motivations, which is crazy. So thank you for standing your ground and having our back lol and stay away from shiftok yall

AS.YOU.FUCKING.SHOULD.

Girl, keeping your distance from ShiftTok? Absolutely the right call. That place is less of a community and more of a cult with a superiority complex, stuffed with self-appointed “moral guardians” who’d rather police everyone’s shifting practices than actually understand a damn thing about shifting itself 💅. They’re too busy gatekeeping, throwing their tired opinions around, and stirring up drama to realize just how hypocritical they look. Chile, the irony is thick enough to choke on, and trust, we see it 👀.

And don’t even get me started on the anti-age-change crew. These people couldn’t argue their way out of a paper bag without leaning on the same three tired-as-hell logical fallacies, dragging them out every time to keep shifters in check without an ounce of actual understanding or empathy.

Ad Hominem – This is anti-age changers’ go-to move when they’re out of actual arguments. They skip right over any real discussion and dive into calling people “pedo” or “creep” just to shut them up. Rather than taking the time to understand why someone might genuinely want to experience being younger again, they grab for the ugliest insults they can think of and throw them like confetti 🎉… only it’s confetti made of trash 💀. Example: A shifter explains, “I age down in my Desired Reality because I had a tough youth and want to relive a better version of it. Plus, I want to experience a healthy, innocent romance from my teenage years.” But instead of even thinking about the idea that there might be something healing and meaningful in that, here comes an anti-age changer with: “If you want to age down to date, you’re a predator—plain and simple.” Here’s the kicker: these critics don’t care about the reasons. They’ll weaponize shame to make shifters look like villains, ignoring the fact that not everyone who age-shifts and dates does it for predatory reasons. Many want to experience that sweet, teenage love they didn’t get in this reality, to relive the simpler emotions of that time without adult complications. But the anti’s? They’d rather throw accusations than try to understand even a sliver of the truth. They’re using the “pedo” card because they know it’ll silence some people, and honey, it’s a sad attempt at control through fear 🙄.

Straw Man Fallacy – Here’s where things get especially messy 🥴. Instead of listening to what you’re actually saying, they twist it into something completely off-base, creating a fake argument to attack. They don’t want to engage with your actual reasons; they’d rather paint you as something you’re not so they can feel good about their so-called “moral high ground.” 🙄Example: Imagine a shifter saying, “I age down because I missed out on a carefree youth and want to date someone my age in that reality. I want to experience young love in a non-sexual, simple way.” The anti immediately twists this into, “Oh, so you’re saying you’re an adult wanting to act like a teenager to date kids? That’s sick.” See the problem? They’re creating a whole new argument based on something you never said. This shifter just wants a clean, innocent experience of being young again, complete with those little flutters and first dates that only make sense at that age. Some shifters may even explore young relationships with some intimacy, but it’s coming from a place of reliving a time they missed—not about attraction to minors or anything predatory. These critics twist the intention, making it sound like a fetish when it’s about pure curiosity, nostalgia, or healing. They’ve crafted their own horror story and are trying to pin it on you 👑, and honestly? It’s lazy, transparent, and completely off the mark.

Hasty Generalization – This is when anti-age changers pull out the big, sloppy brush and slap the same, tired accusation onto every age-changing shifter. Because they’ve heard one example of someone age-shifting for sketchy reasons, they assume everyone who does it must have some secret, shady agenda. Girl, the logic isn’t even there 🤦‍♀️.Example: Anti-age changers will say, “Oh, I heard about this one person who aged down to act out some weird fantasy, so clearly all shifters who age down to date are predators.”This is their way of weaponizing a single, extreme case to invalidate every other shifter’s unique, personal reasons. There are countless reasons people age down and engage in romance, and most have nothing to do with predatory behavior. Imagine someone who wants to experience a first crush all over again, or who never got a chance to date as a teen and just wants that innocent thrill of hand-holding and kissing at a school dance 🕺💃. Some might even explore sexual intimacy because, for them, it’s about curiosity and filling in experiences they missed—not some twisted attraction.Let’s get real: most age-changing shifters just want to feel what it’s like to be young again, to make memories that heal, to have those butterflies and firsts they missed out on. The antis are so obsessed with scandalizing that they can’t imagine a reality where someone wants to age down without any creepy motives. This broad-strokes accusation is not only unfair; it’s lazy as hell. It paints every age-changing shifter with the same brush, and it does nothing but create stigma and misinformation. Like… maybe sit down and breathe for a second instead of trying to stir up a scandal? 😒

Here’s the reality: these fallacies are tools they use to twist, shame, and silence. They’re not here to have a real conversation about why someone might age-shift or date in that reality, or to understand that those desires can come from totally normal, even therapeutic places. They’re here to make it sound twisted, full stop.

The next time they pull out these tired arguments, just remember: they’re not about facts, they’re about control. They use moral panic as a blunt weapon, hoping people won’t look closer and see right through their paper-thin accusations. Keep doing you, stay fierce 🔥, and don’t let their fallacies dull your shine.

[bones4thecats]

A/N: My second part of this long request made by @recordofragnaokfan, this features Thor, Hades, and Heracles from Record of Ragnarok! Also, when you guys request, please just send it in my box instead of just commenting it! Anyways, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🌩️ Thor was not fond of going out when it wasn’t required

🌩️ It took the effort of Odin and you to get him to go out, but it was mainly you, he could care less what Odin said

🌩️ He sat in the balcony on top, watching all performances and judging them silently, knowing his wife, was far better

🌩️ When you came out on stage with your lustful voice falling through the hole between your lips, he smiled slightly

🌩️ He wasn’t fond of hearing men, and women, cry out their lewd thoughts for you, and he noticed how you slightly cringed, but after years of living with Loki, and other Gods, you got used to it

🌩️ After the performance, he dragged you home and took you immediately to the bedroom, he needed to sleep after the night out

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 Hades, like Thor, did not go out much, but it was mainly due to his responsibilities

💀 He was ruling a whole other piece of the world, and he couldn’t go to every performance you had, unfortunately

💀 But, one day, he had gotten through most of his work, and the remaining of it could be pushed back easily

💀 So, he went to your performance in Valhalla

💀 He smiled as you strutted across the stage, your voice spewing through the room amazingly

💀 He had caught your eye and when you saw him, your eyes widened with joy

💀 If anyone yelled anything frivolous at you, he made sure to remember them

💀 Oof, when they die they’re in for a world of afterlife pain in Helheim

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💪 Heracles loved hearing you sing, it reminded him of simpler times when he was a human in Thebes

💪 He definitely liked to come to your performances to an amazing degree

💪 He sat at a table nearby the back, not wishing to draw too much attention to himself, wanting you and your fellow performers to get the spotlight, it would be unfair if he took it all

💪 Heracles smiled as you were announced and chuckled as you walked on stage with his favorite song being sung, “Why don’t you do it right?”

💪 He loved hearing you sing this to him whenever you both had free time

💪 Watching you with utmost precision, like a hunter, he smiled and cheered for you once it was all over

💪 He could let go of the perverts easier than others, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling slightly possessive

[delusionalwriter02]

okay so like.. may or may not have just went thru all of your insta bf posts… 😊 BUT!!!! you should totally do hirotsu.. OR OR MORI OR FUKUCHI🙏🙏🙏

Insta as Mori's Wife

a/n : hey! so hm your request is from a year ago but I hope you're still interested by the instas.... enjoy!

<3 liked by Higucci, Gintonic and 857 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : When your outfit says “queen” but your man says “assassin” 😌🔪❤️ #MafiaMuse #PortMafiaPrincess

M_Mori : You stole my coat. Again. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : You left it on my chair. That makes it mine. ↳ M_Mori : That was in my office. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Our office.

Elise_cutequeen : You’re still not as pretty as me 🥱💅 ↳ Yn_theoneandonly: You’re like… ten. Sit down.

Chu_uya : This the kind of energy that gets buildings blown up. I respect it. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : Chuuya babe ily ↳ Chu_uya : Boss's gonna kill me 💀

Daze_i i miss when she threatened me with a knife. simpler times. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly: i still can ↳ Daze_i: 🥺 bless

Akutagawa : This post offends my sense of purpose. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you say that under every photo?? ↳ Daze_i : he’s just mad you slay harder than Rashomon

Higucci : My queen. Do you need anything? Like a bodyguard? A sniper? A bouquet of semi-automatic weapons? ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you get me 💖

Gintonic : Just once I want her to wear something normal and not breathtaking ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : never gonna happen

OzuKoy : Impeccable. I approve. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly: finally a woman with taste

The_Hirotsu : Please refrain from posting photos that could be used as evidence. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly: cry about it

Tachi_h : why are u so hot for no reason ↳ Chu_uya : TACHI ↳ Tachi_h : it’s admiration not flirting PLEASE

<3 liked by Atsushiii, Gintonic and 1943 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : SPF is 100 and so is the weather

Elise_cutequeen : tell them how you fell off the floatie in front of like 12 people 😭😭 ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : i slid, it was elegant ↳ Elise_cutequeen : girl your lashes flew off mid-air 💀 ↳ Yosanurgirl : I caught one. It winked at me. ↳ GinTonic : i still have the video. 4K.

Higucci : you made us do a full glam photoshoot in 36°C heat. i lost 3kg in sweat ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you looked snatched tho so ur welcome 💋 ↳ GinTonic : she didn’t even let us drink water first ↳ Elise_cutequeen : beauty is dehydration ✨

Yosanurgirl : she made me pose with a knife in a coconut ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : and you ATE ↳ Yosanurgirl : i did serve not gonna lie

Ran_thebestpo : i watched all this happen while eating a corn dog and judging you from a beach chair ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : that’s your whole personality ↳ Ran_thebestpo : and yet i’m thriving

Atsushiii : y’all stole my beach towel ↳ GinTonic : because it was ugly ↳ Higucci : stripes? in this economy? ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : do better next time babe 💅 ↳ Akutagawa : not surprised your taste is nonexistent ↳ Atsushiii : at least I don’t dress like my trauma ↳ Akutagawa : at least I don’t get chased by seagulls ↳ Ran_thebestpo : this comment section is my Roman Empire

Daze_i : can’t believe u went to the beach without telling me ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you would’ve worn your trench coat and ruined the vibe ↳ Daze_i : that’s fair ↳ Yosanurgirl : he’d have turned the sand to angst

Chu_uya : how did i get sunburnt WITHOUT BEING THERE ↳ Elise_cutequeen : that’s just your anger radiating outward 🔥 ↳ GinTonic : internal heat source : rage and wine

The_Hirotsu : I found sand in the meeting room. Explain. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : consider it beach-core interior design ↳ Higucci : it’s called mafia minimalism 🧂

M_Mori : This entire outing was unauthorized. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : so was marrying me 😘 ↳ M_Mori : i still have questions about both ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you still kissed me goodbye while I was in a swimsuit and heels ↳ M_Mori : because I feared for my life. and yours. and the beach’s. ↳ GinTonic : he means “i love you” ↳ Yosanurgirl : he’s just shy ↳ Elise_cutequeen : blink twice if she’s holding you hostage ↳ M_Mori : She is ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : ❤️

<3 liked by Akutagawa, Elise_cutequeen and 932 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : he smiled. just once. and i caught it.

Elise_cutequeen : this photo feels like i’m watching a mafia wedding and i’m the flower girl with beef ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : babe you threw petals AND threats ↳ Elise_cutequeen : i multitask 😌 ↳ GinTonic : no bc she threatened the officiant for not complimenting your shoes ↳ Yosanurgirl : queen behavior

GinTonic : this looks like he just said “i’ll burn the world for you” and you said “good. start with the ADA.” ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : where’s the lie ↳ GinTonic : zero lies. only vibes.

Yosanurgirl : ok but the backlighting??? the composition??? is this love or a hitman romance movie poster ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : both. ↳ Yosanurgirl : drop the soundtrack ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : title: “He Kills for Me (But Folds My Laundry Too)” 🎶

Higucci : ok but like… did he actually smile or is that just a trick of the lamp ↳ GinTonic : not the lamp doing more emotional labor than the man ↳ Higucci : that’s a soft shadow. man’s giving tender menace ↳ Elise_cutequeen : he looks like he’s thinking “i love her” and also “should i poison someone”

Ran_thebestpo : i can’t believe you captured the exact moment Mori uploaded emotion.exe ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : he did his best 🥲 ↳ Ran_thebestpo : that’s the face of a man realizing he’s married to a hurricane in heels ↳ Yosanurgirl : and loving it

Daze_i : why is this giving "last kiss before betrayal"? ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : because i might have bought something very illegal that day ↳ Daze_i : blink twice if you’re being held hostage ↳ M_Mori : I would. but i’m not allowed to blink on camera anymore.

Chu_uya : he looks like he’s holding back the urge to send someone to their death ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : he is. it was the waiter. forgot my sauce. ↳ Chu_uya : understandable

Atsushiii : wait are you two like… actually together-together? ↳ Akutagawa : the braincell really left you didn’t it ↳ Atsushiii : i just… she posted a kiss but i thought maybe it was like. metaphorical ↳ Ran_thebestpo: what kind of response was that ↳ Akutagawa : I am blocking you ↳ Atsushiii : rude 😞

M_Mori : I did not smile. I was breathing. ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you breathed in my direction and that’s love ❤️ ↳ M_Mori : You tricked me into that photo ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you let me post it tho ↳ M_Mori : I was distracted. You had eyeliner and a knife. ↳ GinTonic : the holy combo ↳ Elise_cutequeen : only stabs with love ↳ Yosanurgirl: and precision

Yn_theoneandonly : he says he’s not soft but he just brought me tea, kissed my head and told me to stop reading the comments 💅 ↳ Ran_thebestpo : HE READ THE COMMENTS ↳ Daze_i : KING WE SEE YOU

<3 liked by M_Mori, Gintonic and 832 others.

Yn_theoneandonly : sometimes love looks like matching shadows on a cracked sidewalk. sometimes it looks like a man with 34 confirmed kills holding a five-year-old’s glittery hand

Elise_cutequeen : this is fake news. i only held hands so u wouldn’t lose me again 😒 ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : babe you ran toward traffic screaming “freedom” ↳ Elise_cutequeen : AND I’D DO IT AGAIN ↳ GinTonic : she’s the reason we can’t have quiet strolls

Yosanurgirl : this looks like a wanted poster for emotional manipulation ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : wanted: dead or obsessed ↳ Yosanurgirl : i volunteer as tribute

GinTonic : can’t believe Boss actually touched grass ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : we lured him out with tactical affection ↳ Elise_cutequeen : i told him “walk or i scream” and he folded ↳ GinTonic : icon menace

Ran_thebestpo : not me feeling soft over a mafia family shadow pic ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : it’s called character development ↳ Ran_thebestpo : it’s called ✨brainwashing✨ ↳ Daze_i : you’re just mad you’re not the kid in the middle ↳ Ran_thebestpo: ok. maybe a little.

Higucci : how are y’all terrifying even in silhouette ↳ GinTonic : it’s the posture elite spine alignment ↳ Higucci : Elise walks like she owns the sidewalk and the police ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : because she does

Chu_uya : this is cute but i KNOW Boss stepped on someone’s neck 15 minutes later ↳ Elise_cutequeen : actually it was 12 ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you timed it??? ↳ Elise_cutequeen : i was proud 😌 ↳ Chu_uya : you’re raising her so right

Atsushiii : do y’all do like…normal stuff? like cartoons? bedtime stories? ↳ Akutagawa : her bedtime story yesterday involved a sniper and betrayal ↳ Atsushiii : oh my god ↳ Elise_cutequeen : i cried when the traitor got away 😭 ↳ Yosanurgirl : honestly same

Daze_i : i’d roast but i teared up ngl ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : your weakness is showing ↳ Daze_i : block me then

OzuKoy : I saw this and instinctively called CPS then remembered who i’m dealing with ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : we are CPS ↳ GinTonic : Crime Protection Squad

M_Mori : This is the last time we do this ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you said that last time ↳ M_Mori : And I meant it ↳ Elise_cutequeen : he also said “one candy” and gave me five ↳ M_Mori : I was…emotionally compromised ↳ Yn_theoneandonly : you also carried her plushie in your inner jacket pocket ↳ M_Mori : It was raining. He needed shelter. ↳ GinTonic : “he.” it has a name now ↳ Elise_cutequeen : Mr. Killington, thank you

Soo it's been a while since I posted, again I am very sorry but I still hope you liked it !

with love <3

[nikethestatue]

Ngl if it's E/ucien or Gw*nriel, I am always on E/ucien's side. I understand where they are coming from and why they ship Elain and Lucien. It's a valid ship. It's always Elain, Az and Lucien. Who will Elain choose. Elain's choice. Most of them also like Elain though some only wants Lucien to be happy, but something that Elriels and E/uciens could agree with is the importance of Elain Archeron. I'm not talking about Gw*nriels disguised as E/uciens who wanted Elain 💀. There's really big difference on that.

Meanwhile, Gw*nriel as per my observation, is rooted on Elain hate and bringing the girl down every chance they get. The pelvic bone theory, useless Elain, plant Elain, Elain's head stuck on a piece of wood edit, and all horrible sh!ts. They are all founded on theories, far-reached texts.

GP is more on Elriel or E/ucien and not Gw*nriel.

I would agree. I do consider Elucien a valid ship that has a chance, albeit small, of happening.

My personal issue with Elucien has always been that I personally don't like Lucien as a character, and that over the years, the ship morphed into this worshipping cult of Lucien Baby Boo Boo Lulu and Elain only exists to 'make him happy' and fulfill her duty as a mate. The fact that the ship is so uneven and so centered on Lucien makes me queasy.

However, I am happy that SJM introduced Vassa and I don't need to worry about Elucien happening.

While the others are fighting, the real breakdown is much simpler--it's Elriel and Vassien.

NOT Gwynriel, Bryceriel and Elucien.

[astra-galaxie]

🌺🥊❤️✂️🌂🧠💎💀 for leon please :)

Ah, Léon, Nathan’s father and Yann’s older brother in my series! How I’ve missed him after giving him so much angst when we last saw him in season 3…

Like Aslan, I plan to have him return in season 5, too, so be ready to keep an eye out for him!

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Yes, but he hasn’t appeared yet. I won’t spoil his identity (in case I change things), but I will say that, as of now, I intend for him to be related to a somewhat prominent character in Pacific Bay.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Love: Baking. Léon is a master baker and has been since he was little. When he was sick, he couldn't leave his house often and had to be careful with what he ate. So, his mother began experimenting with baking to create delicious but safe treats for her son to enjoy. On Léon’s good days, Martha would pull up a chair to the counter for him, and they would bake together. To this day, whenever Léon is baking, it takes him back to simpler times as he remembers baking with his mother and feeling free from the worries and fear of cancer.

Hate: Visiting hospitals. Léon has nothing against the medical field or its professionals, but he’s received enough bad news from hospitals that he dreads visiting, fearing he’ll just receive more… He still goes to all his appointments and does everything his doctors instruct, but he always has to mentally prepare himself for the worst, even if it's just for a simple check-up.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Meeting his little brother for the first time. There’s a large age gap between Léon and Yann (10 years), so he very clearly remembers his parents telling him he was going to be a big brother, his mother’s pregnancy, and meeting Yann after he was born. He’ll never forget the love he felt holding Yann for the first time and watching the baby smile at him with bright brown eyes.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

When he found out his parents were dead. Léon was travelling back to the United States at the time and didn’t get the news until he landed in Pacific Bay. His flight had been delayed, so he arrived a few days later than intended. His aunt greeted him at the airport and told him the terrible news. Léon was so distraught and angry with himself for not being there to save them or to comfort Yann that when it came time for the funeral, he hid in the back, believing he didn’t deserve to sit up front after being away from his family for so long due to his cancer and later joining the army.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Mystery (for obvious reasons) and fantasy (for reasons I haven’t officially revealed yet).

(Do with that info as you like!😉)

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

The fact that even though I was making him up as I went along, he somehow managed to turn out to be a good OC!

However, a more character-based answer is his reliance and strength. Léon has been through a lot with his health (physical and mental), his family, friends and career, and despite every challenge he faced, he didn’t back down and kept going. Even when it seemed like the world was against him, Léon continued to push forward to reach the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No. Even though Léon has battled cancer 3 times now, he’s beaten it each time, and I don’t plan to kill him off. (And I promise, after cancer battle #3, he will stay in remission!)

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Yes. Léon has heliophobia - fear of the sun/sunlight/bright light.

I love teasing my secrets and surprises in these types of asks! Léon shall return like many of my OCs one day, and I look forward to revealing more of his lore! (And his secret special someone~)😊

[laylabahiti]

HSHQTASK059: FAREWELL SEE YOU LATER!

when did you join ? what made you join ? what do you remember from the plotlines that were current at the time ? where were you in life when you joined and where are you now ?

i joined september 2016 when this was vikrp! i was a junior in college and had been writing indie rp for a minute before that kinda died down, so i took a peek at the tags. vikrp/haisociety/highsociety had the pairs aspect to it back then, so i fulfilled someone's jade thirlwall wc but they went inactive like right after i was accepted asjdfka. i believe the revamp to haisociety happened in december/january, truly a time to be alive. i started as a junior back then and i'm ending as a junior in my second bachelor's degree💀, a homeowner, and within the next couple years, i'll be married and have a kid*. *tbd when we're both done with school and onto other careers

which characters have you written over the years ?

layla, cameron (early days), tobias (early days), katalina, gabriel, mikolas, alaina, dmitri, juliana, ettore, emerson, tamiko, kaira

what is your favourite plotline that you've been part of ?

too many to choose from! tbh the aslan/layla/olivier triangle was fun just because of the silly ic drama it caused. i'm pretty sure it was during haisociety when i messaged e about layla/olivier, because layla has the "he helped me, i love him" mentality and we just went with it askdfa, not really planning anything or knowing what would come of it. also love the egypt plotline and anytime those siblings interacted. and the early days of barbie and layla's friendship, how barbie pretty much took layla under her wing and got her out of her shell.

what about other people's plotlines ?

definitely the chaos of england and the murder mystery event. if i remember any more i'll edit this jaksdf

who is your favourite character from the ones you've played ? why ? what made you love them ? what made them so fun to write ?

no surprise here but layla. in the early days, layla was meek to the point she hardly spoke, took everything literally, and asked too many questions. she developed her voice and learned to be a little selfish in the later years, but she's still a crier.

if you could relive a plotline, which would it be ?

the greek invasion. it might have been one of the most well-constructed events i have been a part of. i remember traveling during it and writing replies on my phone just so i didn't miss out. every character was affected one way or another, and that event was a turning point in layla's personality.

is there a plotline that you'd edit now if you could ?

i wouldn't necessarily say edit, but it'd be interesting to see how things would've panned out if layla kissed olivier back and still felt guilty enough to tell aslan.

what's a plotline you wish you would have been able to finish before closing or just write more of ?

egypt<3 getting to see amon's coronation and both of them trying to rectify the family's image. life got way too chaotic over the past year, but i love mine and lina's headcanons

what is your favourite ooc memory ?

late 2018, someone kept sending rude/hateful anons to muns and the main, and everyone banded together to keep hshq alive and well. i submitted a whole essay to the main with my comments not thinking the admins would actually post it and they DID, 2018 was an interesting time here. also in the early days when we started listing how all characters were connected and making full circles of connections, simpler times.

where can others find you if they want to get in touch ?

you can always reach me on discord! i'm in the hshq server so feel free to add me or message anytime. i have a few socials if you want those as well - if this is farewell, you've earned my real name ajkdlfj. tbh this is probably my tumblr exit, i don't have much time or mental capacity to write full threads and join something new, but this blog will remain.

what else would you like to say ?

hshq is truly the only reason i've stuck around tumblr this long. almost 8 years of my life has been spent communicating with you all! in some of my worst moments, i was able to turn to hshq and escape reality for a bit. i feel like i'm missing a lot but trying to dig up memories from 8 years ago is difficult lol.

[devoteyrheart]

13. what traits does your muse value in a romantic partner? / any and all!

(from) ― romance & relationship headcanons! // @60104 13. what traits does your muse value in a romantic partner? / any and all!

phew this would be easier to answer if it was the opposite: what things they avoid/hate. also, whatever i write doesn't mean that the characters would never fall in love or have feelings for someone who doesn't match the descriptions i gave. there's always so much at play when you fall in love / feel drawn to a person but anyway!

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: mike zackarias, ilse langnar, marlene, jean kirstein, eld jinn, gunther schultz,  annie leonhart

━━━━━━━━━━━━━.⊹˚⁀➷｡.━━━━━━━━━━━━

ilse:

shared values. devotion. purpose. earnest. compassion. and willingness to grow . - if you're scared of / genuinely don't like being called out on your bullshit, she's not the woman for you. - she doesn't tolerate people canceling on her for shit like 'i don't feel like it' 'i fell asleep', she's surprisingly very ruthless about that kind of disrespect, but if, for example,  her bf told her 'i really need to focus on studying for this big exam so we aren't going to hang out this week but i'll call you once every day' she would literally feel so attracted to him and just fall even more in love. she's not right in the head. ilse doesn't believe in soulmates, she believes in people CHOOSING each other and looking in the same direction and walking towards it side-by-side... so yeah... purpose and devotion ( to themselves / their goals, and to the relationship ) are v big to her. - she likes having fun, but play dumb games with her? make her pick between her family / friends and you? lmfao, she won't try to reason with you or meet you halfway: you're out. - you need to understand her family dynamic, or at least make an effort to. ilse's family dynamic is a il nuanced and, in part, she blames herself for it. surprisingly her family doesn't meddle much, but they're people who are "simpler" i guess, and they are very set in their ways and their family dynamic. they've experienced significant loss, and ilse is the first one in the family to leave their circle ( which was a very hard pill to swallow ). also ilse is the baby of the family by many years so you need to be someone who isn't a pushover but also won't engage with / start conflict no matter how provocative or protective they get. it's delicate and you need to know how to navigate it while still being yourself and not apologizing for it ( because if you do, they'll stop respecting you 💀). 

eld: 

compassion, loyalty, sense of humor, curiosity, and a sense of adventure.. but they can't be too hyper or disorganized. he loves and desires a calming/grounding presence. as much as eld feels drawn to people who are extremely spunky, that's not who he wants to build a life with. he's ok with someone who can keep in on his toes / roast him / call him out but only if it actually makes sense.   also: you can't be someone who yells, especially during arguments. this guy is literally a child of a yelling marriage if you ever raise his voice at him or if he finds himself raising his voice at you: you're out. he won't even explain himself. you also can't be someone who believes (blood) family is everything - if you encourage eld to reconnect with his parents in a meaningful and lasting way: you're out.

mike: 

compassion, neatness, and someone who values quality time and hanging out outdoors. also someone who doesn't try to change him? he spent enough years analyzing himself and getting to know himself and evolving to be the person he wants to be: he's not going to change. mike has grown to become calm person and he rarely engages in conflict not because he's averse to it but because he knows, damn well, that if he throws a punch the other person will get knocked out. younger mike very much still lives in inside older mike: don't bring him out. if you encourage mike to be aggressive in any way, you're out.  also, if you're religious, you're out. i'm so sorry, he just can't go back to that. 

gunther:

patience, organization, no pushiness, and loyalty... but with a bit of spunk. this man will swear he has no patience for nonsense but he loves a woman with a good sense of humour that can help him relax and bring out his laid-back side. someone who reminds him that he can be emotionally vulnerable. someone who is ok with the fact that he has a kid. he doesn't see his kid a lot ( i will touch on this at some point eventually ) but in the future he does want to spend more time with his child and if that's a problem for you: you're out.   

marlene:

good sense of humor is essential to her. also someone who sees through her cool girl half-façade. she wants to be treated like a princess and spoiled, its the truth. she can absolutely spoil herself, but urgh she wants someone else to spoiler. she has a 'if i'm too much go find less' mentality and if you can't handle it that's your damn problem. you gotta b a lil intense, even if you're quiet, or else marlene won't feel drawn to you. 

annie:

someone who understands the need for personal time and individual pursuits. she probably wants to sleep in separate bedrooms at times ( only at times, ofc she likes cuddling too )  and if you can't deal with it you're not the right person for her. annie appreciates a dry and sarcastic sense of humor so she values a partner who can match her wit. someone who is patient and soft but not an enabler or a pushover: annie sometimes wants things but doesn't pursue them, so someone who is encouraging without being overbearing is perfect.  also, you can't be afraid of confrontation. for her, it's ok if your shy/quiet/introvert whatever the fuck, as long as you have a very strong spine. she will literally get the ick if you're too soft.

jean:

someone who is willing to grow, evolve, and talk things out ( don't go silent on him, please, don't shut him out - he copes very poorly with it ). someone who doesn't have their head in the cloud and who shows genuine empathy and understanding towards others.

[redstarwriting]

protected

hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld​

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

───────────────────────────────────

Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

───────────────────────────────────

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

nightmares. Jack harlow x reader

Pairing: Jack Harlow x reader

Warning: angsttttt (well, it's mostly fluff but wait till the end 💀).

Note: Jack is not a rapper in this story, he’s a college student. Secondly, I wrote this in Spanish first and I didn't proof read because i'm half sleep lmao (i hope i don´t have a nightmare after this), so sorry if I missed something, and please remember that english it's not my first lenguage so there may be some mistakes. and last but not least, i was writing another thing, and this idea came to me and I started writing like a maniac. I wanted to post something so bad and this idea was simpler than the other that was taking me so much time, so here it is!

you woke up frightened, your eyes wide open meeting the complete darkness and your heart racing in your chest. despite knowing that it had only been a nightmare, your body was shaking from fear. you haven't had a nightmare in years, but as a teenager you had them every time you were under a lot of stress. And the past few weeks had been very demanding, apparently forcing your body to return to old habits.

you jumped out of bed to turn on the lights, more relieved once you could see everything around you, but you were too scared to go back to sleep. you checked your phone and it was only 2am, there was a long night ahead and you couldn’t allow yourself not to rest, you had important things to do tomorrow.

You opened your room’s door, hoping to find some sign of life from your roommates: first you looked towards Urban's door, because it was the closest to you, but there was no light or noise coming from inside, so you walked down the hall to the next door without much hope. you tried to be silent to hear something inside, but nothing. when you were about to give up, you bent down to see if there was any light filtering under the door, and and you were surprised with a dim and warm light. you stood up and gently knocked on the door.

“come in!” said the voice inside, and you you sighed before opening the door. Jack looked back at you from behind his glasses and lowered the book when he noticed how pale your face was, “what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“i had a nightmare” you admitted, “I just wanted to distract myself a bit before trying to go back to sleep. I know it's silly, but I have this horrible feeling." you gestured with your hands around your chest.

Jack shook his head, “it’s not silly, I know how bad a nightmare can be, you want to talk about it?”

“Not really” you shook your head.

“okay, we can talk about something else” he answered, “come sit with me” you smiled shyly and walked to the bed, sitting on top of the covers, while Jack was underneath.

“what is your book about?” you asked, and that's how Jack spent 20 minutes speaking about the book he was reading; and as if you were a 2-year-old girl listening to a bedtime story, your eyelids started to get heavy. Jack looked at you with a small smile.

“you can sleep here if you want” he said, and you just looked at him, “ I can see that you are very tired, and that you are afraid to go back to sleep, but if it makes you feel better not being alone, you can sleep here, besides, I'll keep the lamp on for a little while, until I finish this chapter” he said, showing you his book.

“really?” you asked, he nodded, “thank you, Jack” while you said it, you yawned. his smile got bigger and you smiled back at him, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks while you got under the covers. “ok, good night” you said, trying to get into a comfortable position.

“good night y/n, sleep tight” he responded, “and tell anyone or anything that appears in your dreams, that they will have to deal with me if they try to hurt you” he added, and you were glad he couldn't see your goofy smile before you fell asleep.

***

The next morning, the habit in your body made you open your eyes at the right time, you looked at the clock on jack's nightstand and sighed with relief. You turned your gaze to his figure: lying on his stomach, with half of his face hidden in the pillow and his two hands on either side of his head.

you fought the urge to run your hands through his wild curls, and you slipped out of bed and the room, coming face to face with urban. You gasped, and placed your hand on your chest.

After a few seconds, you looked up at his face, because like Jack, he was much taller than you. You were met with a raised eyebrow and a smirk; you rolled your eyes.

“it’s not what you think” you said at his unasked question, he widened his smirk and narrowed his eyes.

“riiiight”

“look, urban, if I had wanted to sleep with either of you two I would have done it a long time ago” liaaaar, your mind told you. You knew that if Jack had given you a sign you might have done it, but that had never happened, and you would never take the initiative. “I had a nightmare last night, Jack just helped me”

“okay, i believe you” urban answered, raising his hands in surrender, but but his mocking smile didn’t disappear. He walked past you, and without stopping he asked you: “do you want breakfast?”

“ummm, no, I'll eat something on the campus, i have to go quickly, but thanks”

“no problem”

While you showered, a memory about a breath on your neck and a warm hand on your waist crossed your mind, but you let it come as it came, you let it go with the water, you had probably dreamed it.

***

You spent the whole day taking classes and studying, so you arrived at your apartment around 7pm, you noticed that nobody was there yet so you walked straight to your room, left your things, went to the bathroom to wash your hands and went back to your room, lay down on the bed to look at your phone for a while, and without realizing it, you fell asleep.

Again, the beating of your heart woke you up, the darkness surrounding you. You got out of bed without noticing that you were no longer wearing your shoes, and that someone had covered your body with a blanket. You walked down the hall to Jack's door, and knocked softly.

“come in!” his voice said, and you entered. He put his phone down and looked at you with a worried expression, “nightmare again?”, you nodded, “come here”, he opened the covers and you quickly got under them. he held you in his arms until you fell asleep.

you woke up with your body surrounded by the legs and arms of another person, and quickly remembered where you were. you smiled to yourself, and decided to enjoy the moment a bit before trying to get up.

Jack woke up with the movement of your body, “hey” he whispered, smiling lazily.

“hey” you answered, smiling back.

“did you sleep well?” he asked, separating himself from your body and starting to stretch. you immediately missed his warmth.

“yes, very well, thank you”

“my pleasure” he answered, giving you a big smile.

it was friday, and you didn't have classes, so you really didn't have to get up but you did anyway; after all, this wasn't your bed.

“you have classes today?” you asked

“unfortunately, yes” jack nodded, “but not until 1, sooo how about I make you some breakfast?”

“sounds like a really nice plan” you smiled.

******

That morning, everything went perfect between the two of you, you ate breakfast, helped jack to choose the outfit for his day and, for your surprise, he said goodbye with a peck on your lips. Apparently, sleeping together—literally—had sparked something between him and you.

But that night, he didn’t return to the apartment. you didn't worry too much, after 6 months of living with jack and urban, it was normal that some friday and saturday nights they didn't came back…

but you couldn't sleep.

and the next day neither jack nor urban were back by sundown, so you decided to go to sleep at a friend's house, because you were too afraid to face a night alone… completely alone.

you felt betrayed. it wasn't like jack owed you anything, but where was his empathy? Besides, he left you alone after kissing you and confusing you, how could he?

When you were leaving the apartment, you crashed into urban.

“hey, where are you going?”

“where were you? Where is jack?” you asked back. urban scratched the back of his neck.

“uhmmm, we were at a friend's house, I came back to-”

“right, ok, me too” you cut him, and left.

***

you came home on sunday night, after crying with your friend the whole night before, feeling like an idiot.

you walked to your room trying not to look anywhere, just at your footsteps, but you couldn't help but notice the light filtering under his door.

you fell asleep almost instantly, and once again you woke up from a nightmare. This time, the monstrous things that your mind created managed to distress you in such a way that your body was covered in sweat and your eyes were filled with tears the second you opened them.

you checked your phone with shaking hands, it had only been an hour. you were so scared that you didn't care about anything that had happened with jack, you just needed a hug from him.

you left your room and walked to his, but before you could knock on the door, you heard something that made you stop abruptly: a girl's laugh.

----

PART 2

[sitp-recs]

Hi!!! Do you have any recs where Harry and/or Draco smoke week?

I sure do, anon! I have a feeling a did a reclist for this before but I’m losing track of the new ones as I can’t add more links on the masterlist post and I’m too lazy to start another one hehe 💀 anyway here are some recs for you, enjoy!

Options by @mintawasalreadytaken (2021, E, 2.5k)

Harry's looking for company; Draco fits the bill.

A Shorts Story About Love by @shealwaysreads (2019, E, 3.5k)

House-sharing with Slytherins, student life, magic weed, and short shorts. Harry's life at university might be strange, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters.

What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd (2018, E, 12k)

Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

Secret Admirer by Cassiopeias_shadow (2021, E, 12k) - thanks for the rec, anon!

Fresh out of training, Harry discovers that life as an Auror isn’t at all what he’d imagined - it’s much better actually, and there are stickers. As he settles into the team, a case lands quite literally on his doorstep... who keeps sending the Knight Bus to his house?

Discretion is Key by orphan_account (2012, M, 14k)

In the months following their return to Hogwart for their 8th and final year, Harry and Draco bond over a shared interest in marijuana, snack foods, and other boys.

holemate by @vukovich (2021, E, 19k)

Most people never get a soulmate. Harry has buried three. When the mark appears again, this time alongside an American Auror, perhaps a diversion can keep everyone alive. A diversion that looks a whole lot like a chaotic, fuckable Malfoy.

Nice Things by aideomai (2020, M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Famous by @fw00shy (2021, E, 24k)

It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants.

Fearful Trill by @vukovich (2021, E, 29k)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone.

Colloquy by @dracoladon and @lazywonderland (2021, E, 30k)

Harry's not gay, Malfoy just smells good.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (2018, E, 38k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Dreaming Darkly by @quicksilvermaid (2019, E, 40k)

It's five years after the war, and Harry is not okay. He hates his job. He hates Robards. He hates Ron's promotions and Hermione's concern. He chases oblivion in booze and weed and quick dirty fucks, but it's never enough.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (2013, M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

[baekhvuns]

Omg, sorry Baek I forgot to reply!

Idk what's going on in Munich, I used to visit the city a lot and even went on a student's exchange, but didn't notice anything unusual 🤔 sus, maybe it's in the water. RM vs Liverpool was boring from what I've seen, but at least Madrid won, as usual thanks to Benzema

Ahhh I knew you'd mention VAR lmao. But FUCK VAR ACTUALLY https://en.as.com/soccer/how-many-points-have-real-madrid-and-barcelona-won-or-lost-due-to-var-n/ not so fast Baek, you're not bringing us down woth you. Why is Barca's management such a mess, fraud and poor too??? 😭

Can't expect too much from a guy called Kyle 🔫 embarrassing and pathetic behaviour

Right, Indian food is full of plant based dishes, it's one of my favourite cuisines. Western veganism to me is white fitness people going vegan for health reasons and eating food with no flavour. I actually have a friend who's sensitive to flavours, so she eats pretty bland food, but most vegans don't care about health that much jjshshkakwjsjsjw so we just eat junk, but vegan. If you serve me a simple raw salad I might cry. I don't think I have a fave dish, but I'd say vegan burgers are on another level. Years ago they were just dry bean or chickpea patties with some veggies, no flavour, no texture. Nowadays even meat eaters love them. I also love vegan noodles, be it ramen, pho, pad thai, whatever. If you're a cook or a chef and you're scared of making plant based food idk what to tell you 💀

I recently went to these two places I've never been to https://www.happycow.net/reviews/camouflage-seoul-272416

https://www.happycow.net/reviews/bab-full-ggot-seoul-204380

And one vegan cafe/restaurant called My Sweet Kitten or something like that 😭❤

SM might be free from Hybe, but they need to get their shit together https://twitter.com/allkpop/status/1635527942045331459?t=Vd3fzxk1qrcfuyjGn6MeLA&s=19 🔫 they just won't stop. LSM needs to be banned from life 🔪 And this https://twitter.com/girlinreallifee/status/1636035944171069444?t=nxKYNLJ13X91O2FIPaXUeA&s=19 too fucking funny. When a guy asks a girl out and she rejects him, so he calls her ugly or says it was a bet anyway 🤡

Oh you don't eat raw tomatoes? Literally every European country does that. I'm not a big fan of eating them like strawberries, but Balkans, Slavs, Italians, Spaniards - we all eat raw tomatoes with salt and pepper (and some additional herbs) quite often. Sugar... I can't approve of. Apparently San - another veggie hater taught Hwa this tomato trick

So some Ktiny tweeted screenshots of a fabricated message saying they were sued by KQ for sexual harassment and everyone was like??? Lots of people weren't sure if it was real or not. Then another user tweeted "I-fans don't worry it's a joke between friends, very popular in Korea 😄" bitch?!!?!??!

As much as I wanna see Ateez, I'm just used to missing their concerts at this point. My friend and I came to the same conclusion - it's been years since we last came to Japan and Korea. Tbh I'm tired of Ateez on tour (aka going to the same places every few months, attending KCON - I'm happy they get invited, but ffs calm down). I'd rather if they gave us some interesting content. I know they love performing, but it's too fucking much, such a money grab and it's definitely not good for their health. They don't need to be MIA for months, but I just wanna miss them y'know? The amount of content and schedules is overwhelming. Quality over quantity pls! And they can still do things that would benefit them as a group and individually.

AOS p1>>>AOS p2 is a common opinion in my circle so I thought it was a popular one. I think some people liked s2 more because it was simpler and bigger on romance and cute moments. I haven't seen p1 of The Glory, I have it on my list, but I just haven't been in the mood for it. I finished s4 of YOU though and WTF 😭

This is sending me into oblivion they're too cute and funny https://www.koreaboo.com/news/fans-matchmaker-exo-kai-sf9-yoo-taeyang-bubble-rover-viral-instagram/ literal 15 year old school boys. Btw Kai https://twitter.com/1117FOLDER/status/1635461639481839617?t=2KIZV3VrhBXc5IzlYDaF8Q&s=19

My cats when they get the zoomies and act silly goofy https://twitter.com/sansangbear/status/1635642904914845700?t=QXN7XP-0u1vY-KWLZZcfbg&s=19

Uhmmm okay https://twitter.com/Kpopmap/status/1635117596780511233?t=8up6MouMUAR1Dk-2s_wERA&s=19

Can't stop staring Baeksy https://twitter.com/pseonghwapics/status/1635212406245982212?t=2e-xLBDInzZMMl9B348zRQ&s=19 and wow https://twitter.com/hehetsohvi/status/1636051216932257797?t=n8jDLABWyud-oEDgacoDcw&s=19 the complexion, the side profile (nose), the STARE

MOOOOOOOOODEEEEEEEL I NEED HIS COAT https://twitter.com/nobodylikehwa/status/1636512302957469701?t=xMioCJMB0HsoLnLgqilVEw&s=19

I've been laughing at this for a while WHY DOES THE VIDEO FIT SO WELL it's kinda a niche joke but when you get it 😭 https://twitter.com/youngluvdotcom/status/1635059301785157632?t=JvNWTGu-wTcduSKdEcEFcw&s=19 - DV 💖

hi hello!!

Omg, sorry Baek I forgot to reply! //// Idk what's going on in Munich, I used to visit the city a lot and even went on a student's exchange, but didn't notice anything unusual 🤔 sus, maybe it's in the water. RM vs Liverpool was boring from what I've seen, but at least Madrid won, as usual thanks to Benzema

no worries! have fun on ur trip!! i don’t want u to worry about responding 😭😭 OOOOOO EXCHANGE IN MUNICH??? anon seriously what a cool lifestyle u lived 🤚🏻 maybe u didn’t nOTICE BC UR A WATER HATING PERSON AND DIDN’T TRY THE WATER 🔫🔫🔫 it really was boring! thought they’d keep a 0-0 but benz came in clutch,, for el classico i have no idea what they’ll do, but all i know is the messi back @ barca rumours are FUELLING me

arsenal…is everything ok there anon 😶 and 😭😭

Ahhh I knew you'd mention VAR lmao. But FUCK VAR ACTUALLY https://en.as.com/soccer/how-many-points-have-real-madrid-and-barcelona-won-or-lost-due-to-var-n/ not so fast Baek, you're not bringing us down woth you. Why is Barca's management such a mess, fraud and poor too??? 😭 //// Can't expect too much from a guy called Kyle 🔫 embarrassing and pathetic behaviour

LMFAOOOO NOW NOW NOW DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THOSE UCLS "WINS" AND THE WINNING LA LIGA BY 3PTS U MADRIDISTA 🔫🔫🔫 leaked reports are out and i guess they are innocent as of now,, tho that perez is sussy TEBAS IS A MADRIDISTA FBWNDHSJ as a president idk how this man been ruining la liga and now since they don’t have money he’s trying to butter up to messi to come back,, no literally all kyle’s are like that, bro just fed into the stereotype even more

now 👁 no wonder casemiro never got a straight red in la liga but in pm jdfksjhslhfhkjawf

Right, Indian food is full of plant based dishes, it's one of my favourite cuisines. Western veganism to me is white fitness people going vegan for health reasons and eating food with no flavour. I actually have a friend who's sensitive to flavours, so she eats pretty bland food, but most vegans don't care about health that much jjshshkakwjsjsjw so we just eat junk, but vegan. If you serve me a simple raw salad I might cry. I don't think I have a fave dish, but I'd say vegan burgers are on another level. Years ago they were just dry bean or chickpea patties with some veggies, no flavour, no texture. Nowadays even meat eaters love them. I also love vegan noodles, be it ramen, pho, pad thai, whatever. If you're a cook or a chef and you're scared of making plant based food idk what to tell you 💀

indian food may visually not be appealing but the food hits, always hits 😭😭😭 hUHHHH THATS INTERESTING i think many americans go vegan and think there’s like no flavour or only specially use salt and pepper when there seems to be so many varieties in it! fast food restaurants should ngl cater to vegetarians & vegans, not only will it give them more money but at least we’d have something to eat 😭😭 VEGAN BURGERS YOU ARE SO CORRECT ON THAT !!!!! here, most (literally probably three) restaurants use soya as a substitute and it ngl it tastes better than meat, to the point even meat eaters enjoy it,, question! have u tried the indian manchurian? since ppl mostly eat the chinese one, i tbh find that one bland 🔫 no bc how hard is it to make something plant based food, u can literally not even use plant for it,, u got flour, potatoes, rice, spice?? how much more u want 😭😭

I recently went to these two places I've never been to https://www.happycow.net/reviews/camouflage-seoul-272416  //// https://www.happycow.net/reviews/bab-full-ggot-seoul-204380 /// And one vegan cafe/restaurant called My Sweet Kitten or something like that 😭❤

omg anon thank u for introducing this app to me i need it so bad for travelling im in debt if u bfnshdn THE FIRST PLACE IT LOOKS SO DELICIOUSO AND THE SECOND WITH THAT TOFU THING??? it’s 1 am and i am salivating

SM might be free from Hybe, but they need to get their shit together https://twitter.com/allkpop/status/1635527942045331459?t=Vd3fzxk1qrcfuyjGn6MeLA&s=19 🔫 they just won't stop. LSM needs to be banned from life 🔪 And this https://twitter.com/girlinreallifee/status/1636035944171069444?t=nxKYNLJ13X91O2FIPaXUeA&s=19 too fucking funny. When a guy asks a girl out and she rejects him, so he calls her ugly or says it was a bet anyway 🤡

more money for sm 😭😭😭 but that fee’s for ONE TERM is MAD! RIDICULOUSLY MAD! i wonder if they’ll have diff rates for international students,,, LMFAOOO THAT IS SO FUNNY AS IF THEY WERENT BEGGING TO SM / FANS TO JOIN THEM 😭😭😭 sTOPPPPP U EXPLAINED IT SO PERFECTLY GET OUT SHDJWJDKWHDK

Oh you don't eat raw tomatoes? Literally every European country does that. I'm not a big fan of eating them like strawberries, but Balkans, Slavs, Italians, Spaniards - we all eat raw tomatoes with salt and pepper (and some additional herbs) quite often. Sugar… I can't approve of. Apparently San - another veggie hater taught Hwa this tomato trick

see i don’t bc tomatoes taste like wet bitter cucumber to me but everyone does so here! like cut them up and put salt or pepper on them! BUT MY SHOCK IS LIKE HE EATS LIKE A FULL, RAW, UNCUT TOMATO?? LIKE JUST BITES INTO IT???? sugar and tomato, seonghwa what 😭😭 i realized that there’s quite a lot of similarities between all the ones u mentioned above w indians it’s kinda crazy, but then again a lot of them had colonized/owned a part of it (looking at portugal 🔫) id be interested to know if ur’s also entangles w india somehow, would be eye opening <3 SAN TAUGHT HIM THAT????? i wish u could see my face reading that

So some Ktiny tweeted screenshots of a fabricated message saying they were sued by KQ for sexual harassment and everyone was like??? Lots of people weren't sure if it was real or not. Then another user tweeted "I-fans don't worry it's a joke between friends, very popular in Korea 😄" bitch?!!?!??!

the level ppl drop to... the bar is on the floor yALL JOKE ABT THIS???? no wonder many turn a blind eye to sa literally happening on their street,, damnn that is crazy,, no but rly what the hell

As much as I wanna see Ateez, I'm just used to missing their concerts at this point. My friend and I came to the same conclusion - it's been years since we last came to Japan and Korea. Tbh I'm tired of Ateez on tour (aka going to the same places every few months, attending KCON - I'm happy they get invited, but ffs calm down). I'd rather if they gave us some interesting content. I know they love performing, but it's too fucking much, such a money grab and it's definitely not good for their health. They don't need to be MIA for months, but I just wanna miss them y'know? The amount of content and schedules is overwhelming. Quality over quantity pls! And they can still do things that would benefit them as a group and individually.

u guys did it right! they’ll have so many more concerts with the way they are going so i guess u technically won’t be missing anything fbfbfb everything u said 1000% want to miss them!!! let us have some non-concert vlogs OR NO CONCERTS FOR A WHILE PLS, let us see the daily life vlogs or vacationing in a diff country for testing! it really is overwhelming every time i go on twt they’ve done/filmed or are about to do something 😭😭 REST, GIVE US REST TOO

AOS p1>>>AOS p2 is a common opinion in my circle so I thought it was a popular one. I think some people liked s2 more because it was simpler and bigger on romance and cute moments. I haven't seen p1 of The Glory, I have it on my list, but I just haven't been in the mood for it. I finished s4 of YOU though and WTF 😭

so many ppl i know are saying the s2 is >>> than s1 and they are wrong, disrespectfully. YOU HAVE TO!!!!!! WATCH IT!!!! SERIOUSLY tho same with aos, glory’s s1 is >>>> FHAKDHSK HOW WAS YOU! 😭😭

This is sending me into oblivion they're too cute and funny https://www.koreaboo.com/news/fans-matchmaker-exo-kai-sf9-yoo-taeyang-bubble-rover-viral-instagram/ literal 15 year old school boys. Btw Kai https://twitter.com/1117FOLDER/status/1635461639481839617?t=2KIZV3VrhBXc5IzlYDaF8Q&s=19

NO BC HE WAS GIGGLING LIKE A 12YO 😭😭😭 and now every idol is reacting out to him and he goes to respond to them and then goes on bubble and says that “i died a little after that conversation hahaha!” taeyang is so funny fhbjsbdf STOPPP ALL THE ROVER EDITS ARE SO CRAZY FBWKDHWK AND U JUST HAD TO SEND THIS ONE 😭😭😭 ooooo ur thoughts on the rover album?and the recent jimin release?

My cats when they get the zoomies and act silly goofy https://twitter.com/sansangbear/status/1635642904914845700?t=QXN7XP-0u1vY-KWLZZcfbg&s=19 //// Uhmmm okay https://twitter.com/Kpopmap/status/1635117596780511233?t=8up6MouMUAR1Dk-2s_wERA&s=19

are u sure he’s not ur cat, im thinking it’s the tiny one of urs 🧍🏻‍♀️ YEAH KIM KAI LET ME- oh i didn’t even see seonghwa, my jaw did a lil drop...

Can't stop staring Baeksy https://twitter.com/pseonghwapics/status/1635212406245982212?t=2e-xLBDInzZMMl9B348zRQ&s=19 and wow https://twitter.com/hehetsohvi/status/1636051216932257797?t=n8jDLABWyud-oEDgacoDcw&s=19 the complexion, the side profile (nose), the STARE

anon we’re not getting ambassadorship but WE ARE BEING FED! the melanin and pose, the simplicity 🤌🏻✨✨ the (nose) is so sharp, looks comfy 🫡  

MOOOOOOOOODEEEEEEEL I NEED HIS COAT https://twitter.com/nobodylikehwa/status/1636512302957469701?t=xMioCJMB0HsoLnLgqilVEw&s=19

ANON ISNT THIS THAT TRENCH COAT WHERE THE PERSON WEARING IT FLASHES PPL IN PUBLIC FJSMFJKAJCJCJCK

I've been laughing at this for a while WHY DOES THE VIDEO FIT SO WELL it's kinda a niche joke but when you get it 😭 https://twitter.com/youngluvdotcom/status/1635059301785157632?t=JvNWTGu-wTcduSKdEcEFcw&s=19 - DV 💖

NOT THE NEW JEANS GAG FBWNFJAKFJWK 😭😭😭😭😭😭 HELP WHEN I GOT IT THE WAY I WHEEZED FBNFBJ

now.

we need this as a drama actually

[broomiies]

k elaborating now bc im upset ,,,, rant under the cut. there's some screaming and long-winded, upset rambles and a sexual "joke" that's not even a joke i'm making, but someone else did. i hope everyone's having a good day or afternoon or night or however early / late it is in your respective timezone <3

why the fuck cant ppl understand that age regression is a coping mechanism lik bruv it isnt that hard wtf 💀 literally i hate tiktok so so so much sometimes like

"one day yall r gonna dox ppl and call it a coping mechanism" why are you comparing a literal ILLEGAL ACTION with regressing to that of a child's mindset to cope with shit that happened in their past bro?? i deadass saw that exact comment in the comment section of a tiktok. it baffles me beyond belief. even simple comments like "weird asses" n shjt like that bring me so far down yo 💀

please dont even get me started on ppl who dont know the difference between age regression and age play, mix them up, get corrected, and still continue to bash on age regressors because they still think it's weird. it HURTS. SO BAD. it's literally gotten so bad to the point where just ranting about it or simply showing my support for age regressors (bc with all this bullshit and ppl at their throats on the daily, ofc they need supporters bro) makes me shaky and choked up bc idk how ppl r gonna respond and if they're gonna fucking hate me or stop being friends with me and i dont WANT that to happen bc the ppl i've met are so nice and cool and i ENJOY talking to them it's so so fucking bad. it shouldnt BE this way. WHY does it have to be this way?? why does it have to be so bad to the point of where i genuinely get panicked when i accidentally like something from an agere blog when im scrolling thro the tag bc it makes ME feel calmer and safer?? it's not even a matter of me being ashamed to support them, because I'm not; it's a matter of being afraid of losing friends bc they dont understand. like you dont have to openly support them, just fucking RESPECT them and dont send them death threats for being "weird" when theyve probably been through ENOUGH

i literally saw a tiktok the other day where someone was age regressing and they had an ice cream and the caption said "ice cweam! :D" or smth along the lines of that and all the fucking comments were ppl making fun of them like "i cweamed in ur mommy 🥺" and "i hope u dwop it 🥺" and it made me feel so bad bc they didnt deserve that, especially not that first comment bc you dont fucking know why they're regressing. you dont know if theyve been assaulted before and is trying to cope with the fact by regressing to a simpler time where nothing bad happened to them. you dont fucimng know what theyve been through leave them alone leave them the fuck ALONE WHATS YOUR FUCKIGN PROBLEM DUDE WHAT THE FUCK

i left that person a nice comment btw. i rlly hope they enjoyed their ice cream.

another thing happened in another tiktok like a week or so ago. someone was regressing, and the captions were "pway wif me!" and they were just. playing. the comments were fucked, ofc.

i put a nice comment on that one too. gave them like as well. i hope they had fun :(

i'm well aware stupid fucking idiots like this are going to be on the internet forever bc it's impossible to wipe every single scumbag off of social media and i've come to terms with that as someone who's been on the internet as young as 8 years old, but it's still a bit...disheartening, to say the least. it wont stop, i know but. lmao i wish it would

day ?!?!?!?! of seeing mfs confuse age play for age regression and vice versa i am really about to lose it yall 😐