#I thought it was funny so I decided to go ahead and post it

[terezipyropeandpyralspite]

am I doing it right

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #17

(I had this idea when I learned that there are some people who give out their phone numbers for people to give to someone who is harassing them/giving creepy vibes/or just plain not interested.

Btw, if you wanna add a ship between Danny and any of the mentioned captured vigilantes, go right on ahead! If you're not a fan of ships, that's fine too. Later!)

✦

Who You Gonna Call?

After the Anti-Ecto Acts were dismantled and the townwide internet/communications blackout is dismantled, Danny's social media for his alter ego blows up. He won't lie either, he loves the mostly positive attention whereas before he'd only been met with fear and hatred.

It isn't until he makes a post where he jokingly mentions the Fenton patented Anti-Creep Stick™ (yes it actually works on ghosts) that he gets loads of comments on how many wish it would work on human creeps giving unwanted attention (it actually does because it's literally just a baseball bat covered in anti-ghost paint, but meh) or really just have Danny himself scare away the creeps because of the whole "being a ghost" thing. Naturally, this sets off Danny's protection obsession and he decides to do something about it.

With a little help from Technus, Danny learns to manipulate and travel through phone connections and then releases a separate phone number for people to use/give away if they're stuck in an uncomfortable situation.

Here's the funny part tho.

Red Hood somehow uses the number kinda as a joke to, well, sic Phantom on the Joker while him, Nightwing, and Red Robin are tied up for another one of the clown's schemes. It works a little too well though. Turns out the Joker is wanted in the Infinite Realms for continued interference on peaceful relations between said Realms and the Living World, i.e. - terrorism. It's then discovered that Joker is in fact considered liminal by ghost standards and therefore falls under Danny, the Ghost King's, jurisdiction.

So basically, Jason calls Phantom's Anti-Creep number as a joke, Phantom actually shows up via phone connection, and all three of them wind up witnessing firsthand the Joker being dragged into a glowing green, concerningly Pit-like portal, bound in chains + kicking and screaming. Phantom even stops long enough to untie them, shake hands with a shocked Red Hood, thanks him for his help, and then leaves like it never happened.

Now. How the hell are they going to explain this to Batman?

✦

This idea has probably already been thought of before but I haven't seen it. If someone has, please direct me to it. 👀

[kanmom51]

Smeraldo garden marching band - JM

Song and MV - My thoughts

Very long post ahead. Seeing that @andy-wm wrote such an amazing post already, I am sending whoever hasn't read it to go read and like it.

I agree with @andy-wm's thoughts and am going to use it as a base to mine, jot down a few points I would like to either add or emphasize. I could have reblogged, but I felt there was just too much I wanted to convey and better I do it in a separate post.

So let's get it.

Where where where do I start?

Maybe from the end, seeing that the song does seem to open and closes with the BTS reference.

I do agree the song is not JM singing his love to Army.

I've seen Army trying to twist and turn it around once again making it all about Army, JM telling us things he couldn't tell us before, the truth he couldn't before - that he loves army? Say what? Since when did he not tell Army he loved us? Since when was that a truth that had to be hidden? Nah. It's funny how people are getting the whole connection to the Smeraldo flower, the connection to The truth untold (will talk about that a little more later on), but are not willing to take that one extra step and see or admit what that thing JM telling us is.

There is a reason this song comes after Set me free Pt. 2!!

This is a different JM. One that decided to live his life as himself, flying away free like a butterfly.

And he connects the dots in the MV.

This is about something that was obviously hidden by him until now, something he is telling us now, a secret he is letting us in on, once he told "all the opps" to fuck off.

These lines here:

All the things we couldn't say before And your hidden feelings too I'll tell you everything now (Just for you) Don't you worry anymore Since we’re together now Let's be a little more honest (Let's go)

Clear as day.

This is about hidden feelings (and not necessarily hidden from the person he loves but from us, as we are the audience and it's time to tell us about it). Same btw with the honesty. Not that he hasn't been honest with that person he loves, but it's time to be honest with us, perhaps practice that same honesty that certain person has been trying to practice throughout 2023.

This is JM's time. JM's secret to tell.

So why, oh why the hell would it be about his love for Army and wanting to hold our flaming hands????? Please make it make sense.

Forget the fact that the lyrics are just not it. Nope. He might love army but he definitley doesn't want army, and spare me any reasoning, JM is a big boy and he KNOWS what it means when he says "I want you babe...", and it ain't him wanting Army. Nope. Nah. No way.

On top of that, by now we know that everything JM does is for a reason, and the 12 June in the lyrics is no different. This is about BTS, not Army, and the idea of the bookending, I love love love that one. This exactly:

That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

Ah, and there is this too:

No special course in reading comprehension needed here.

Not a love song to army. If it wasn't clear from the lyrics then it's said here. A song JM wrote for army to help them express their feelings for a loved one when they are having issues doing so themselves (all part of the layering I will talk about later on).

I'll just say here that JM is the king of layering. One song and MV containing messages within messages.

One more thing about that ending frame from JM though.

When the curtains rise and the lights turn on Everyone is in their places Turn up the music I think we’re ready now Let's begin one, two Put your hands up

These lines.

As I was watching the MV for the first time reading those lines, this is what popped straight into mind (and speaking of popping, I will get to that too, that naughty cutie, sexy, lovely man of ours and his not so innocent innuendos - yes, I do think his mind was going there):

When do you feel your heart connected with another member ?

"...when my eyes naturally meet Jimin's and we high five..."

*Side note: not JK telling us his heart is connected with JM basically all the time...

I guess JK is talking about moments like that.

When I saw/heard those lines in JM's song it felt like the one JM was talking to in that moment wasn't all of the members, but that one person standing on that stage with him, that one person that he just said all his "I love you"s to.

Oh, and a little example of nothing being coincidental and fully thought out by JM:

Ok then.

Just as @andy-wm mentioned, JM gives us hints galore throughout the whole MV as to who that individual is he is speaking to, confessing his love to (again, all while also clearly talking to us letting us in on that secret that he was hiding until now).

We have him hinting to what it ain't.

That the person in question is not of the female variety. The potentially romantic moments are only with the male characters. That "yes sir" add-on.

Ooh, I love you babe I'll come closer to you I love you, babe (Yes, sir) Ooh, I want you, babe I wanna hold your hand I want you, babe

This is no mistake. This is not in the live version only. This is part of the actual lyrics. As is.

We have him giving us hints in the staging, the choreo, the set connecting with Serendipity.

The you are me I am you in the MV choreo

And prey tell, who took ownership of that one, eh?

We have the bubbles.

And specifically JM in a bubble.

Wait, what am I seeing there?

JM in a bubble with sunflowers?

Sun-flowers?

I guess we're in the business of recreating moments then.

Not quite enough, right?

So we have JM literally using Golden hour lighting in his MV. All while the sunflowers (you know, those that grow towards the sun, and usually don't tend to open up and flourish as the sun is going down) are blooming.

Oh, and who are they directed towards if not the recipient of JM's confession? You know, the sun part of the sun and moon duo. Get with it people. You should be reciting this off by heart by now.

Oh, @andy-wm you asked and I will reply. You are not crazy AT ALL. I will say it one more time and clearly:

The sunflowers, that represent the sun as in themselves, are blooming facing towards the camera, in the direction of JM's love confession, all while doing so when the sun is actually supposedly setting, it being Golden hour.

And if it's Golden hour we are talking about, how can we forget this?

Just JK telling us JM is the love of his life during Golden Hour .

See full clip here:

And now we have JM doing just the same.

Who would have thought?

So, basically the flowers are blooming facing (because of) the individual that JM is confessing his love to - you know, the sun to his moon.

Same moon that was doing this:

Every night You spin me up high The moon with you in its arms Let me have a taste Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') It's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever you and I

And if we are already drawing the lines between SGMB and Like crazy, then how about this perhaps connecting line:

We know how personal Face was to JM. We know that every single song is him through and through. We know Like crazy is about him struggling during the pandemic.

We saw his breakdown during the MOTS ONE live streamed concert.

This was October 2020, around 6 months into the pandemic. The uncertainty. This is their first performance and from there until Muster another 9 months go by. We know from Festa 2022 that the pandemic screwed up all of their plans. the uncertainty, working on and releasing Be and then Butter and PTD everything leading up to the PTD online concert, a year after MOTS ON:E. For those that performing is their life, standing in front of an audience and giving it their all, it's a hard pill to swallow. The unknown, if they will ever get back to perform on stage in front of a live audience, when this is who they are, their essence, it can be unbearable. JM wasn't the only performer to go through this. It's just that he shared this with us.

And JK was there by his side.

And all he wanted was to make it better.

Just like he did during the concert itself.

So yeah, I do believe it's JK referenced in that song.

And Yeah, like everything JM does, this song too, and it's MV, are layered.

And SMF pt. 2 is him breaking free, flying away like a butterfly and moving on to SGMB. Now he can say what he feels out loud for EVERYONE TO HEAR. And he's telling that someone that was worried about him, that one that stood by JM's side and perhaps JM felt like he was trying to save him, that it's ok, there is nothing to worry about anymore. And unlike in Like crazy, where JM doesn't want to be woken up from that dream, and he is fighting that person that wants to save him, at this point he's eager to wake up and live each day a new with that person he loves blossoming by his side.

Same person he wrote the Letter to?

Yep. Same person.

I do believe that they are all one. Same person by his side in Like crazy, giving him a good ride, in his arms, trying to save JM. Same person he wrote his love letter to. And same person he's telling that he loves in SGMB.

And then there are these lines to consider:

All the things we couldn't say before And your hidden feelings too

Is JM confessing to that person, to us and for that person too? Telling us the feelings are mutual. Hidden until now, from us, and now out in the open.

And yes, although SGMB is JM confessing his love to that person (cough JK cough), he's already done that in a song, right? So what now?

Layering peeps.

JM is telling that person, but more so, I do believe, telling us.

Remember how Letter was hidden? Yes, we got to hear it, but it was hidden on JM's album. Like a secret that isn't to be shared with everyone. Like something that needs to be hidden. And here comes the layering again - it's hidden cause it's a private letter to the one he loves, but also hidden because it's something that cannot be revealed publicly, because he's an idol and 'not allowed' to have such a personal relationship and because the relationship itself is 'not allowed', being with another man.

And now we have SGMB. Not only is the song not hidden away, but it's out there in the open. Loud and proud. The first single released from Muse. How louder or more public can it get than that?

Ok, so feels like a good place to talk about the song's choice of name and its lyrics for a sec.

Much has been said already about the Smeraldo flower, it's meaning and The Truth Untold.

And now we have this:

"The longing to confess and find love on behalf of those unable to articulate their feelings..."

Let's talk about this sentence for a second.

One of the things we get from the MV is cupid or matchmaker JM. Not only is he telling his person how he feels, he is also helping those around him express their love. So, as usual we have a layered message, oh so like JM to do in his well thought out messages. JM 'confessing' to his love, but also to us about his love (first 2 layers) and another layer of JM helping us, his audience, to express our feelings to whomever we wish to and are struggling to do so. Oh and another layer to it all is the one surrounding all three, the one that connects to the Smeraldo flower and it's part in The Truth Untold - that part of allowing to show your true colours, your true feeling, and not be rejected for them, not necessarily by the person you love, but by those that surround you and will not accept your true self or your love for each other.

The connecting lines between the two songs.

And we know who this song meant so much to as well.

"But I still want you"...

So most definitley not a coincidence JM choosing the Smeraldo flower nor calling his band The Smeraldo Garden Marching Band, having them be the ones to deliver this oh so loud and proud message to us all.

One last thing before I leave you for now.

Let's talk for a sec about the new JM dance challenge?

We got cutie sexy lovely JM in this one.

And again, thanks @andy-wm for your lovely post.

Once again, if it wasn't clear already, the one he's paired up with is Loco, sitting there on the sofa, not even dancing with him, just there all googly eyed at JM, struggling to keep a straight face. And the end, omg, that end.

No Loco. That performance was not for you. And fyi, there is only one person JM is accepting flowers from ...

You know...

That one and the same person he was rushing home to pack for their trip to Japan the next day.

Same person he chose to enlist together with less than a month later.

[spamgyu]

ONE LAST TIME // Seungcheol x Reader oneshot

DESCRIPTION: It's Christmas and Seungcheol was bored... Who better else to bother than Kkuma's mom? PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Fluff MASTERLIST

Merry Christmas to all my Cheol Apologists. Here is a quick unedited drabble/oneshot for you guys – a little something for making me laugh.

"Merry Christmas 🎁🎄😉"

His thumb hovered over the send button, chewing at his lip as he contemplated whether he should go ahead and allow his intrusive thoughts win.

He had seen countless of twitter posts about exes doing this same thing, laughing at each one.

After the fifth one he scrolled past, Seungcheol decided "why the hell not" and scrolled to the bottom of his messages — clicking on the one conversation he had yet to delete.

Along with the name he had yet to change.

He wasn't hanging on to her, no definitely not.

Just didn't think it's that important to delete messages when his phone storage was completely fine.

And why go as far as changing her contact name back to her government name. The honey emoji was cute anyways.

Fuck it.

Holding his breath, he hit send and waited for the screen to flash the words delivered before swiping out of the app.

It was just in good fun, he wasn't expecting a reply — he just wanted to be as annoying as the other men on social media who reached out to their exes after months of no contact..... for the laughs.

He knew there was a higher percentage of her leaving him on read than replying and telling him off; she was always the bigger person.

But Seungcheol was oh so wrong.

In the midst of replying to Jeonghan's instagram story of his family's Christmas feast, her assigned contact name appeared.

"Lmfao stfu" She replied.

But she also hearted the message.

Letting out a soft chuckle, he quickly typed away on his keyboard.

"Damn, not even going to say it back?"

He was just joking.

And he knew she found it funny.

Within seconds her chat bubble appear — she was typing.

"Merry Christmas, Cheol🎄"

"What about my family?"

He was pushing it.

But with all his other friends far too busy with their own family activities to reply to his texts, he was going to keep at it.

"Texted your mom this morning dumbass."

He wasn't aware she was still in contact with his mother.

Though, he should have figured.

They were together for three years.

And his mom had always wanted a daughter.

"Dumbass? At least be nicer to your favorite ex."

"Who said you're my favorite? 🫵🏼"

"I just know 😉"

"You're currently at the bottom on my list. At least my other ex got me a present."

Bottom of her list.

She had only one other ex.

And he didn't count.

High school boyfriends don't count. Especially if they broke up right after graduation.

Those were just test runs.

More importantly, it was Seokmin. And he gives presents to everyone.

He had a big heart and wants to be everyone's friend.

"Was it a tea set again?"

"Shut up lol"

"Send me your list, I'll get you something."

"Dyson Airwrap 😈"

He knew she was joking.

But wouldn't it be funny, if he actually did it?

Switching apps, Seungcheol typed into his search bar, clicking the first result that had pooped up.

He still had her address memorized.

Seungcheol hit the complete button, and locked his phone as bounded for the dining room — checking to see if his mom and dad had finally set up tonight's feast.

He was just about to pick at the cheeseboard his mother set up on the table when the familiar sound of a facetime call blared from the phone in his hand began to ring — it was her.

She must have gotten the confirmation email.

"Wassup?" He swiped the accept button — throwing a cheese cube in his mouth.

It had been a while since he had last seen her, being blocked on all her social media accounts and all.

She was really persistent on keeping the no contact rule after the break up.

Even when they took turns taking care of their shared dog, Kkuma — opting to use Wonwoo as their puppy's form of transportation and point of contact.

He protested each time their non-government assigned custody switch off was set to happen — trudging to his car with Kkuma in tow.

Wonwoo claimed they were far worse than actual divorced parents — complaining more considering Seungcheol technically had custody of him and the dog.

Seungcheol couldn't help but bite back a smile as he watched her from behind the screen — making note of how cute she looked when she was annoyed.

He's allowed to think she's cute.

They were broken up but that doesn't mean she wasn't attractive.

"You're joking, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Seungcheol blinked.

She could see right through his act, giving him the finger.

"Hey, that's not nice." He laughed.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"Am I your favorite yet?"

"No!"

"I'll buy you another one." He threatened.

"Cheol!"

"Yes?" He answered sweetly, making her lips curl in annoyance.

He always did enjoy getting her nerves.

Seeing her huff and puff had always been his favorite part of his day.

Especially when she would pout after taking a joke a little too far only for him to kiss it all better — not that he could do that now.

He's allowed to reminisce on old memories. At least, he'll allow himself just this one time during the holidays.

"Fine, what do you want?"

You.

Seungcheol shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, let me get you something."

He pursed his lips, thinking — he had almost anything he could ask for.

And if he did end up thinking of anything, he could simply swipe his card and purchase it himself.

There was one thing he did want, but be knew it would be a selfish thing to ask of her.

Settling for the next best thing, a smile crept on his face."What perfume do you use again?"

"You want my perfume?" She raised her brows.

He missed the way she smelled.

The remaining item he had that held traces of her no longer had that signature scent — having it been nearly a nine months since she had lounged around his place in his hoodie.

He would have purchased it himself, but the thought of him going out of the way to purchase her scent only for him to spray it on her favorite hoodie and her side of the bed seemed pathetic.

But considering she offered....

"Why not? I like the smell." He shrugged.

Sighing, she swiped out of their call — allowing for his face to minimize and settle for a corner in her screen as she quickly typed away on her phone.

She still had his address memorized as well.

Seungcheol couldn't be more grateful that Apple had changed their phone setting and no longer pause the person on the other side of the line's video when they swiped away — watching as she brought the device closer to her face, her brows naturally furrowing as she focused in her task.

"Done." She sang, clicking back into their call.

It wasn't long before he got the confirmation email, his eyes widening at the transaction breakdown.

"Why the hell is your perfume $250!?" His mouth hung in shock.

It was no wonder she had always scolded him for spraying a little too much when she allowed him to have some.

Curse Le Labo and their damn prices.

"It's worth it."

"I would hope so, it cost almost as much as a hairdryer!"

"You asked for it!" She laughed.

It was music to his ears.

"Is that y/n?" His mom's scurried over to him, wiping her hands on her apron. Seungcheol moved the camera to fit the both of them on screen, the smile on his face growing larger – as if it could get any more since their call began.

"Merry Christmas, mom!" She waived.

Mom.

When he had first introduced her to his parents, it didn't take long for them to warm up to her – insisting that she referred to them as mom and dad because "you two will be married soon, anyways."

Oh, they were so wrong.

"Stop by tomorrow for leftovers yeah?" The older lady asked.

"Mom..." He trailed off, not wanting to pressure the girl behind the screen – although, they did agree that Kkuma was to ring in the New Year with her because he had a snowboard trip planned with his friends.

She can pick her up early instead of having to ask Wonwoo.

"I'd love to." She smiled warmly.

How was he going to find someone who got on well with his mom?

Trick question.... he didn't want to.

"Perfect." His mother clapped, before excusing herself back into the kitchen.

"Guess I'm picking our daughter up early." She mumbled.

Our daughter.

"Guess I'll be seeing you too."

"That can be arranged."

"Come on, it's been months. I think we can see each other now." He half-heartedly teased.

The anger had subsided and the wounds that once kept them up at night had grown numb – the only memory of their past were now re-runs of the good times. It was as if their brain completely disregarded the fighting and the heartache that they had gone through in the last few months of their relationship.

They were now.... okay.

"I don't know, Cheol."

"Come on. One last time."

It was almost like he was pleading for her – the playful tone between the two have shifted.

He watched as she nervously switched holding her phone from one hand to the other, chewing at the skin inside her cheek.

He shouldn't have mentioned it.

But he was already far from the line they had drawn between them – swearing to never cross.

"I miss you." He continued. "It's a neutral setting. We can have breakfast with my parents."

"One last time?"

"Promise."

He broke that promise within a few weeks – picking up Kkuma at her apartment instead of his friend. She nearly stumbled back when she swung the door open and saw his smiling face – holding a paper bag containing her favorite pastries.

It wasn't long before he would show up at her door again and again; and she wasn't complaining.

They swore they were just friends.

Two exes who were coparenting – remaining cordial for the sake of their dog.

That was, until she had agree to spend Christmas with him at his family home – one last time.

They should have known his mother was scheming, she was a little too cheerful when she had greeted them at the door.

"Oh, will you look at that!" She gasped, pointing up above them as they kicked their shoes off.

The two exchanged looks before looking up at the doorway where his mother taped two leaves – a chuckle escaping his lips in an instant.

"What do you say?" He raised a brow at her. "One last time?"

"Or maybe a couple more," Y/n copied his playful tone. "if... you want."

"Oh, I definitely want." Seungcheol wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer – planting a quick peck on her lips.

His mother was there.

And so was their daughter.

"Merry Christmas." She giggled.

Thank god for that damn twitter trend.

[tinydefector]

I do not know if you have ever thought about it, but listen! Last night I came up with a funny idea where Nadia and her friend decided to have fun and did a survey among bots. who do they think they would fuck that night and obviously almost all the bots have chosen our favorite ambassador. I would be interested to see the ambassador's reaction to this prank from Nadia😁良い一日を。💕

Pay back-Human affects

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: pin-up photoshoot, mentioned nudity, thirsting, unhinged behaviour.

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Is it nearly 1am, yes, but I wanted to finish this piece because it was written with the last part, but I wanted it to split it for these requests.

Ask and request are open

________

The Ambassador sat with the three surfing what was essentially the cybertronian version of Twitter, Tumblr and Reddit all in one, laughing and reading the post.

"Ooo, this one's juicy!" Nadia crowed, shoving her datapad in the Ambassador's face, making them read through yet another raunchy post.

DockDawg66: "Primus, you guys, have you SEEN our Ambass? The way their hips sway when they walk...I just wanna toss 'em in my cab and take 'em for a spin, if you catch my drift! That soft little organic is begging for a spike the size of their torso. Bet I could make 'em sing."

The whole crew roared with laughter as the Ambassador snatched the pad, face heated in embarrassment, they were aware that some of the bots on ship had a thing for them but this, this was not what they had expected they literally had a full forum dedicated to them.

"Have you no shame, you pervs?" They huff out while pressing a hand to their forehead. Millian scanned down their notes with a smirk. " it seems you've got a bit of a fanclub, chief. Check out 'Ambass_Admirer' tag

'I just wanna rub my plating all over that smooth flesh...make 'em squeal.' They go on like that for paragraphs, it's a riot."

The Ambassador rolled their eyes good-naturedly as their motley human crew dissolved once more into giggles at the bots' oh-so-secret desires. Their jaw nearly drops as the crew scrolls through even more posts. "Fucking hell! How many of these are there!?!?"

"Seriously, it's like every other bot's got the hots for you!" Millian snorted, scrolling furiously. Nadia nudged them with a wicked smirk. "We should totally roast these pervs. Post looking for 'hot single bots' - bet their inboxes would explode!"

Millian cackled, adding fuel. "Ooh, or you could play hard to get! anyone feel like earning a private photoshoot?' Their circuits would short for sure!"

Ambassador's could feel the colour nearly draining from them with the continued bullying and jokes from the three. As for feeding such flames... Well, a little harmless teasing did feel justified, if they wanted to be fiends what was stopping the Liaison from being one back.

"Alright you hooligans, enough scheming for one night." They chuckled. That's when Taylor speaks up. " you know we could do a bit of a spicy photoshoot, kinda like only Fans make some money of horny bots," she hums while leaning over the Ambassador's shoulder. "Taylor!" The Ambassador sputtered with embarrassment and shock.

"Now there's an idea..." Millian mused, eyeing their boss. Money could go far in this ragtag outpost, and fleecing horny mechs of their shanix just felt poetic.

"Alright you lunatics, I will play along. But first-" They turned to Taylor with a stern look. "Ground rules. Nothing goes public without my say-so, got it? I don't need an invasion of metal pervs in my room!"

They three nearly squeal in delight over the go ahead. "So how far are we going to go with this boss, just some light stuff like you laying on a bed or what?" Millian asked. The three are already scheming ways to do decent photos.

"Oh, oh I have a camera somewhere"

"So... I may have been able to talk One First aid into giving me Ratchet's old servos from before we ended up on ship. Don't ask how" one of the others stated.

The Ambassador rubbed their temples, already regretting this scheme but far too amused to back out now.

"Alright, you loons - nothing explicit, got it? I'm not getting Naked for anyone, Classy pin-up style shots fine, some saucy photos sure but that only." They start laying out ground rules for the three,despite being their boss, they were also friends and they did want to enjoy some letting loose. "And I suppose props could...add a dash of naughty flair, but if we are doing this you guys act professional, don't make weird comments."

As the crew dove into planning, they shook their heads fondly. "We'll start simple - you lounging in 'sexy' clothes, maybe leaning on those servos. Gauge how you feel, then amp it up gradually if you feel comfortable."

"And I get 30% of all earnings!" The Liaison called after them as they scramble to grab what they can for the shoot.

Both Millian and Taylor carted in the servos on a trolley, the ambassador was almost impressed but decided to keep their questions to themself, not really wanting to know how they got ahold of severed cybertronian hands. The three are trying to figure out where to start and what the ambassador should wear.

"I swear if Kyle, David or Daniel find out about this I'm putting all three of you on cleaning duty for forever." The Ambassador threatens them, hands on hips, eyeing the bustling preparations with mingled amusement and trepidation. What had they unleashed upon this ship?

"Boss, take a look, scored this silky robe that's sure to drive 'em wild!" Nadia called, holding up the item in question with a smirk.

Millian hauled over a plush bed adorned with soft blankets and pillows from over in the corner Of their room. "Lay back here while Taylor and I do a test shoot, just want to try and set up lightly."

They move to lay on the bed, trying to get comfortable and move things until they feel right. Millian snaps a few pics before the Liaison stands back up looking at the box of clothing.

Nadia and Taylor begin moving the Servos trying to get them set up as close to the bed as possible. “I'm so glad these are holo on the inside, they are Heavy enough” Taylor huffs out and the move and curl the digits.

The Ambassador looks at the different clothing and fabrics with a raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know where you guys got all of this?" They ask. The three just give mischievous looks.

They let out a sigh. "We will start off with something like this, then you lot can play dress ups with me, Christ never knew you three were this much of a nightmare"

"Alright you troublemakers, out with you while I change," they chide their over-eager crew, shooing them from the room with a laugh. Once alone, they unfurl the silky robe reverently, resting it on the bed before peeling off their uniform. Neatly piling it together. They rummage through the other clothing grabbing out a rather nice looking set of underwear before dragging luxurious sheen robe over their shoulders.

They move over to Millian's set before calling out to them. "I'm changed, you can come back in" they call out. Millian's head popped in, eyes widening at the vision before them. "Boss, you clean up nice!" They let out a low whistle.

The liaison's eyes trace over the large Servos on the ground with a pile of pillows and blankets set between them. "So how are we doing this?" They ask. Nadia and Taylor piled in behind, stopping in their tracks at the enticing sight. The Ambassador lounged lazily amid plush bedding, silhouetted seductively against the soft lights. Those mighty metal servos loomed ominously close.

Taylor shook off her daze first. "Lay back and get comfy. We'll start with some innocent stuff - just look smouldering while you toy with the fabric." With that the three moved around getting lights set so they had the height for the photos. “I'm starting to get suspicious on why you guys have all of this equipment in here Millian.” They call out only for them to wave the accusation off. “Eh I do photos for Nadia on occasions”

"Alright, lay back against those pillows- yeah, just like that. Now arch your back a little and tilt your chin up," Nadia instructed eagerly, moving a few pillows into a good position, Ambassador's gaze up with eyes half lidded. “I feel so stupid doing this!” They call out which makes the others laugh. “Ahh don't worry, last time Nadia did a shoot she nearly lost the bikini top she was wearing because it got caught. Spend ten minutes trying to not have to cut it off” Taylor informed.

“Yea I didn't want to wreck one of my favourites!”

Millian gave a low whistle. "You're doing great, I promise the more you laugh the less awkward it is. Now trail one hand slowly down your chest while the other grips the robe's lapel." Taylor surveyed their work, making subtle adjustments here and there.

"You two- move that big metal hand like it's gently cupping their waist." The crew buzzed around their model putting touches in place. Each minute adjustment drew out as they chatted away about random stuff while doing the photos, it helped them not feel so awkward about doing the photos.

"Alright, I think we've got our money shot," Millian declared at last, snapping one final smouldering image. The shutter clicked rapidly as they tested angles, coaxing out new provocative poses little by little. They stand back up, wrapping the robe around themself as they walk over to Millian. " Can I see the photos? They were rather excited, this wasn't something they normally did, but the three were actually rather professional with it.

The group looked at the photos as Millian slowly flicked through the collection showing off the collection along with some of the more silly ones they took to help ease the tension. The silky robe clung to curves in all the right places, every inch of exposed flesh looked as if it glowed. Bedroom eyes beckoned from heavy lids, lips parted as if panting from passion's heights recently scaled. One hand grasped the large metal hand.

"Holy shit, you really got me good!" They breathed, awed by photos that the three had helped craft. Nadia gave a devilish grin. "Just wait till the boys get an eyeful. They won't know whether to rub one out or combust on the spot!"

Laughter spilled forth from them as Millian begins transferring them over to their data pad. “this was fun, I can see why you enjoy doing it Nadia, I haven't felt this..”

“Beautiful?”

“handsome?”

"Desirable?”

The three state one after another which gets a head shake from the Liaison. “Yes, “ They admit.

"Also how exactly are we going to be posting these photos?" Inquiry, the were feeling rather daring now and wanted to have input on the posting.

They ushered the others close, datapad in hand. "Here's what we'll do- I've got an anonymous account on one of those seedy Commlink forums the bots love. You know, the one where they all drool over flesh?"

Nadia snorted. "Oh yeah, the 'Human Fucker' board. Classy place."

Millian ignored her, pulling up the photos. "I'll post just one crop out whatever you want for your comfort - the money shot where your hand is gripping that servo. Caption will be 'Look who I've got...' nothing else."

“don't crop it post the full thing, I like it and well they want to play with fire this is what happens” the Ambassador hums which makes Taylor cackled, rubbing her hands together. "Mark my words, those mechs will be tripping over themselves trying to claim the 'lucky bot' title," Millian promised gleefully.

Commlink forum: human fucker.

Ambass_Admirer pin.

Tin_Bin25: 'Look who I've got.'

a photo of a bots servos cupped partly around a human in a Satin robe looking rather Ravished, smiling up while their robe is hanging off their shoulder showing off a rather scandalous amount of skin.

Overcharger69: Holy frag is that the Ambass? Lucky slagger, frag what a fine piece!!!

T-Wrexz: No way!. Someone Fragging did it. They got with a Fleshie!

Rev-Rid3: some lucky mech sampled fleshy friction and got the dream...

Flyboi69: : FRAG THIS WHO CARES WHO FRAGGED THEM I JUST WANNA KNOW IF THEY'RE AS SOFT AS THEY LOOK!!!!

ScienceSorcerer: My oh my, what scandalous treasures, do share more with the class! For historical and scientific purposes, of course.

Oiler69: No way, you can't just Post that! Do you have more, Post em up already, need more Proof!

_Heavyhaul: Hey, hey, keep it in your panel's mechs. That photo wasn't released with their consent, it's not cool.

Tin_Bin25: Here is another.

It's a new photo showing the Ambassador lying back against pillows in a low cut silk robe, one hand trailing lazily across their collar while the other grips a metal servo their face pressed against one of the digits as they kiss it, gazing at the camera with hooded eyes

How's that for proof, sceptic? I've got permission for their personal photoshoot, even let me post without hiding their face. Bet your spikes would glitch seeing them like this in person.

Scope_ridge: *venting noises* Frag me sideways, they look good enough to eat! This is officially the best solar cycle ever.

Bar-rizzla: Why, they positively glow with sensuality! One can only imagine the debauchery that inspired such provocative portraits.

StarFielder: Seriously, does anyone have any idea who the lucky mech was? Gotta be someone important...

WPHAS-violation: my Shanix is on it being an officer right? Bet it was Magnus!, rather tasteful compared to the stuff I make.

Con_Spiracy: got me wonderin' - think any other bots have been sampling alien delights?

SunRunner: Whoa, hold up- you've got a whole collection? Heater's firing up over here! *fans self jokingly*

Pimptheride: Hey mech, wanna pass those images over? How much you asking for?

Bar-rizzla: I've got enough engex to trade for a peek! C'mon Tin, help a bot out with his late night activities...

_________

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[cupcakeslushie]

I sincerely see little issue on you coping like that, as long as its not, you know, graphic

Would i be uncomfortable? Very. Im still not quite over my own experience

But I'd be lying if i said i hadnt thought of putting some characters i relate to in such things and having they deal with it and feel like i did (as much as they can in the circumstances)

Yeah as long as this stuff isnt fetishized im on full support of it

Okay I feel like I’m stuck in a loop where the target is still being just slightly missed. I appreciate your intentions with this ask, and I can see where you were going. But “as long as it’s not graphic” and “as long as it’s not fetishized” are still putting qualifiers on art.

Art has no bounds. As long as triggers are tagged properly, and put behind a “read more” for the visually graphic images, any art can be created. When we start requiring stipulations for artists to meet before making art, we start the process of sanitizing it. If you read the warnings and still click on the post, then your discomfort is on you. If you aren’t mature enough to know your own limits in what you can handle, the artist shouldn’t have to issue a statement decrying their art, and listing all their traumas for some kind of purity tribunal to then decide it’s okay, and only when it’s being used as a coping mechanism.

It’s kinda funny, after all this, I likely wasn’t even going to actually DRAW anything sexually graphic, and at most, simply hint at it. But it doesn’t matter. If I wanted to, I should be able to, as long as it’s given all the warnings required. If I don’t like certain triggers, I avoid them. I’m not delusional enough to think that in all the whole, wide expanse of the internet, people will pander to my specific icks, likes and dislikes. I curate my own internet experience.

I can only hope, as I go about my day, that I am given the same courtesy of being warned ahead of time in the summary and tags, that I’m giving. But if another artist does want to draw that, I’m not going to request to see their trauma resume, just so I can approve of what they made. If I clicked, after reading the warnings and knowing damn well I would be triggered, I’m not going to be mad at the artist. That’s on me.

[lilystyles]

when not in rome.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note idk this was a random thing i wrote at 2AM because i just missed them, i am still working on style so don't worry that should be out soon. also this is set way before no strings, i love writing about them in their previous moments!

brief description harry surprises y/n at her graduation (also listen to love of my life by h whilst readinggg)

warnings! angsty? fluffy? drunk y/n and harry (2.1k)

younger!lhh!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

SIX YEARS BEFORE

University has a funny way of making you feel like you might never cross the finish line. Y/n like everyone else had multiple days where she would just sob and scream from the stress of it all. Exams were totally a torture device.

When Y/n graduated with her first degree before deciding to write her thesis Harry surprised her.

He’d been touring the world with One Direction for months now and she hadn’t seen him since Paris the year before, when he’d surprised her by flying her to join them in their Paris show and they’d had a wild few drunken nights that she felt blurred the lines of friendship into something more.

But after their few days, when the champagne ran out, and she came back home, she sobered and realised that nothing would ever happen between them. And if you spent a few nights with Harry in a limo drinking champagne and dealing with his wandering hands you too would fall for him. Just a bit. It's only natural.

She missed him, though, loads. He was one of her best friends after all.

Around a month ago they phoned each other, it was late for her and the morning for him, she’d been studying and they talked for hours catching up till the sky turned bright for her and her eyes drooped shut. The time between their phone calls had grown longer and longer now, and she missed him. She’d mentioned that she was graduating soon and that they were both supposed to be graduating if he’d stayed in Uni. She remembers them staying up late at parties discussing their futures and how post-graduation Harry was insistent that they’d still be roommates. She realised now that their dream definitely wasn’t a possibility anymore.

He’d told her that instead of being there graduating like they’d suspected he was going to be, he was in Rome at some fashion show gala thing, and his date was this sexy model named Rosalie who had her sex tape leaked a couple of months ago. She was happy for him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed. She felt like he was drifting away from her every day, but she couldn’t find in herself to be cross with him. He was swept up by the fame of it all, and how on earth could she be mad that he was literally a rockstar? She knew that he was still Harry and she was still Y/n but they weren’t Harry and Y/n anymore. Not like before.

And honestly, she’d probably leave everything and everyone behind, party all night, and sleep with sexy models too if she had the chance to be famous. But she couldn’t sing for shit. So instead she did what she was doing, and shoved her nose in a book rather than in lines off a bathroom sink, and she was rather content with the peacefulness of it all.

All thoughts of Harry were swept away from her mind when she walked across the stage in the grande hall. She was finally graduating! Thank god! She thought. She had a sash that showed she was an honours student, and she was blooming with pride, when they called her name her list of achievements was longer than the four painful years she’d spent studying in their grande libraries. She was so glad to shake the hand of one of her favourite professors and leave, the next year ahead she planned to travel and work overseas, she was excited about that.

But honestly, she was even more excited to get absolutely shit-faced at the graduation after-ball party. She found herself a few pints down, sitting by the edge of one of the fountains, when she nearly fell in at the absolutely shocking sight in front of her.

There was just no way it could be true. I mean he was in Rome, and she was drunk in London. She’d seen photos on her Twitter of him wrapping his tattooed arms around that Rosalie model girl, so how could he be here in London just like that? It was not real, surely. She must be hallucinating and the second-hand smoke of all the spliffs had finally got to her brain. But suddenly the man turned around and Jesus Christ it was him. It was Harry. His eyes were pinched as he searched the crowd and when he finally saw her they lit up, all green like a forest, and his mouth kicked up into that devilish grin of his.

He saw her dumb-struck expression and laughed softly walking toward his best friend. He was dressed in a suit jacket like everyone else, and since they were all drunk none of them noticed it was the Harry Styles of the One Direction AKA the biggest band in the world. To them, he was just some random twat who just graduated too.

His hair had grown all long and curly, and he just looked so much more like a man than when he’d left. Had he gotten taller? More strong? The arms of his jacket strained and Y/n sighed at the sight of him.

She didn't think she'd changed much, but Harry thought she looked even more beautiful than before, if possible.

When he stood right in front of her, her mouth was still wide in utter shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Is that all you hafta’ say? Come on, hug your best friend!”

She sprang up from her seat and the silky long dress, which was a teal blue colour. All smooth and tight on her skin was hiked up slightly. Her gown and cap were long gone, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He lifted her up off the floor and spun them around. 

She smelt like peaches and sweetness, and God, he could've stayed holding her for weeks.

She giggled and felt her face hurt from smiling so big. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”

When he placed her down, his hands did not leave the curve of her waist. “Surprise, babe.”

“What the- shit- I thought you were in Rome! How’d you even get here?” She asked 

He smiled. “I was, got a flight this afternoon. It was the only one coming home, sorry for missing the graduation part.”

She just smiled up at him. “You’re crazy.”

He shook his head landing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew how important it was to you, and I missed you. Sue me.”

She laughed, eyes welling with slight tears. Maybe he wasn’t drifting too far from her after all. “Oh, god, don’t make me cry, you know how I get after a few pints, H.”

He laughed, arms outstretched for her to cuddle him. “Aw, pet, c’mere.”

She smacked his chest playfully but cuddled him nonetheless. “Let’s go get royally fucked, mate,” She whispered and they pulled apart, hands interlocking as she lead him off to one of the pubs where everyone was buying drinks.

It was called The Ducks Nuts.

A few of her mates were inside. Ones Harry didn’t know, but she’d already spent a good portion of the night with them. So she told them her old friend had surprised her and they’d be here and there.

Harry ordered them some shots and eventually the night was just a blur of hands touching each other, as they got so drunk Y/n felt her world spinning. They’d hopped around multiple different pubs and bars and Y/n was so tired. Her heels itched her feet with pain and she ripped them off, along with her bag. As they walked with little purpose she threw her things at him and began to dance in the middle of the road.

Harry was holding her things as she danced in the street showing her best Elton John impression, and he silently decided that was what made her so perfect. She was just herself. And he loved that about her, he loved everything about her.

He laughed and told her what a realistic impression it was, and how they’d met at some award show to back up that comment. She was infinitely jealous, she loved Elton.

On her way back toward him she landed in his arms after losing her footing he shook his head at her.

“You are very drunk, Lovie. Aren't ya'?" He said, in a soft tone one that made her tummy turn in flips.

She sighed as they walked in a direction with no destination in mind. “You aren’t drunk enough, you need to get on my level.”

He noticed her shiver under his arm and quickly ripped his coat off. It swallowed her form and she smiled gratefully hugging the coat around herself. It felt like a warm embrace, and that smell filled her nose and suddenly she was home in her old flat with him, home in Holmes Chapel, home with him. Just home.

“Smells good.” She giggled as she sniffed the shoulder pad, her cheek brushing against the soft material all dog-like. “N’ soft too.”

“Why thanks, it’s Gucci.” He replied. 

She rolled her eyes. “Come on then, money-bags, let’s get you as drunk as me.”

They strolled into a tavern near her flat and drank so much tequila that they had to practically carry each other home.

As Harry looked up at the stars and moon, feeling the cool air nip her skin he sighed. He hadn’t gotten this drunk, and been this happy in such a long time. He was giggling contently, as she leaned into him and he silently wished that the night would never end.

He never wanted his time with her to end either. He loved spending time with her, whether they were on an adventure or doing nothing at all. Y/n made it worthwhile.

When they reached the shitbox of a flat she lived in Harry followed calmly behind her, and when one of her neighbours spat a comment about drunken youths he sighed, “I wish you would’ve taken up my offer,”

She looked up at him as she played with the jammy door that never seemed to open on the first try. Shoving her shoulder into it as she managed to finally wedge it open, stumbling inside ungracefully.

And with a roll of her eyes, she ushered him inside. “There is zero chance I’d let my all-of-sudden bazillionaire rockstar friend buy me a flat, just cause he can afford shoes worth more than my entire life savings. Anyway, how could I ever pay it back? I have two p to my name and a packet of noodles in my possessions, Harry.”

He laughed. “Think of it as a graduation present then,”

She sighed. “Just shut up and sit down, and I’ll get some wine.”

It was almost 4AM now, and neither cared. They were beyond drunk, but Y/n missed him and if force-feeding him wine would get him to spend a whole 24 hours with her, she totally would.

When she sat down with two mugs spilling with a cherry red wine, that was the cheapest shit she’d ever bought, Harry laughed. Her wobbly legs forced her to land awkwardly on one thigh practically on top of his. He smiled, one that showed his kind eyes. 

Green pools of emerald she wished to swim in for eternity. She laughed at the thought, she really got poetic when she was drunk, huh?

“God, remind me to get you drunk more often.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Oh shut up, and fill me in on life then. Who are you shagging?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Who are you shagging?”

A blush crept up her neck, and suddenly the only secret she had kept from him was threatening to slip past her drunken red-stained lips.

“None of your business, but there’s this hot guy in my physics who I would totally shag,”

He laughed, but underneath it, he felt a jealousy creep up his spine, he knew he had no right since he’d been balls deep in two Italian models this morning, turns out threesomes are a really good cure for hangovers by the way. But despite that, he felt an itch he couldn’t scratch that resembled something pretty close to jealousy.

“What’s he like?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno, tall, glasses, got that whole nerdy silent thing going for him.”

“That’s what you like then, silent types?” He asked, running a hand through his long curls, and she reached out to play with one.

She shook her head, and said distractedly, “I don’t know.”

“Makes sense why you never dated me then.” 

During primary school, Harry dated every girl in their class including Daisy and Penny, except Y/n who told him she didn’t fancy him. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between them. Why wasn't he good enough? He always asked.

She laughed at that comment. “I know you too well for that, and I get the unfiltered you, and I lived with you which was basically like being married to you. We bickered too much to ever date, Haz.”

He looked at her with hooded eyes, and for some reason that stung, but trying to be light-hearted he said. “Never say never, what if we needed to repopulate the earth?”

She looked over at him and placed a hand on his and kissed his cheek, all soft and slow, and for a moment he thought she might actually kiss him for real but instead, she said. “There’ll be no hope for humanity then.”

He sighed, fake pouting before a couple of minutes of silence passed and he turned to her and said. “Come with me to Brazil.”

Her eyes widened, “What?"

“I leave tomorrow night, come with me.” He said.

She frowned. “What? Come with you? You can't be serious.”

He nodded. “Please? I miss you! And we can party for a whole week together, or sleep, or do whatever the fuck you want! Just come, pack a bikini and something sparkly, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Y/n and Harry did end up going to Brazil but that’s a story for another time.

She stood up from the couch holding her hand out to him, and he slid his into hers. Cool rings grazing the soft skin of her palm.

“Let’s just go to sleep, you're talking like a crazy person.” She said, softly pushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

He sighed at her, “But m’ serious, Love.”

“Alright, ask me again tomorrow. That is if you even remember...now come on, let’s listen to Fleetwood Mac and sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Y/n's room was cosy and welcoming. Harry felt his eyes droop at the sight. A tiny lamp shining over them in an orange glow, her cot-like bed covered in blankets and the scent of her likely covering those sheets.

That night they slept in Y/n’s twin bed, cuddling, with Stevie Nicks serenading them to sleep. Cheeks plump and pink from too much alcohol, hands wandering scandalously, and the love in air was thick and obvious.

Before Y/n fell asleep she pecked his lips, in a quick kiss, one that it barely even touched him and said, “Night, mate,”

His lips burned like wildfire, and from that night on, he did think humanity had a chance if it was up to them. Whether or not she believed that.

“Night, Love.”

i have been a bit slack with updates lately...second year of uni is crazy and im already soooo busy, but i missed them and i wanted to write a lil sum for y'all until my next proper update :) BIG LOVEEEE

[iskratempestmadness]

Hi! I really like your Baki headcanons, so I was wondering if I could headcanons for the boys having a small s/o like a lot or more shorter?

Okay, let's do it.

I'm going to try a new format to describe more characters.

A thing from a high shelf

It was quite funny to watch. Honestly. He was probably trying not to laugh. But the picture he saw was funny, a little awkward, but undoubtedly sweet. The thing is, you've been trying to get a pack of cookies from the top shelf for a while now. While you were trying to finish the job you started, for some reason the idea of taking a chair did not occur to you. And of course your height was certainly not playing in your favor right now. So small and neat, you jumped, stood on chains, stretched and, alas, could not get the coveted pack in any way. And of course, this charming picture was accompanied by grumbling that the cookies could have been placed lower, and that it was probably done on purpose.

So how could he not help you? Of course he did. Coming up behind you, it took him a little effort to get the cookies off the shelf.

It has probably already become clear that he extremely likes your height and for this reason it becomes the reason for many of his jokes.

Yuuichirou Hanma, Chiharu Shiba, Retsu Kayoh, Atsushi Suedou, Jun Guevara

wearing on your shoulders

Not so long ago you decided to make a habit of walking in the park. However, with your boyfriend, every walk turned into a race. And this time was no exception.

So, as usual, you were walking behind and were already several dozen steps behind because of the length of your legs, and he was walking ahead with an energetic step, and for you he was flying, again because of the length of his legs. When you asked him to slow down for the hundredth time, he stopped. The moment you reached him, he picked you up in his arms and a second later you were sitting on his shoulders. Because of your height, your dangling legs barely reached his abs. The hands were on his head, gently running through his short hair.

... It was unexpected and perhaps sweet.

But that's only on your part. He was rather embarrassed at that moment. But he does not deny the fact that it is doubly pleasant for him to walk with you like this.

Jack Hanma, Hanayama Kaoru, Hector Doyle, Dorian, Kato Kiyosumi (he liked it between Your legs), Biscuit Oliva, Nomi no Sukune

You're wearing clothes

Perhaps lately you've been noticing posts in your feed too often about how girls took guys' clothes for themselves. Someone complained about it and was outraged, someone liked it and thought it was cute. You've never done anything like this. Well, the hour of your debut has come.

When your boyfriend came home, the first thing he felt was the smell of dinner. He could clearly hear the smell of baked chicken and potatoes, as well as the notes of salad. And of course the first thing he did was head to the kitchen. And bingo! He guessed right. The appetizing-smelling chicken was cooking in the oven, and at that time you were busy with the salad.

But there was something else that he noticed. He recognized one of his hoodies on you. Oh, don't worry, she sat on you wonderfully! Despite the fact that it was a little too long, the sleeves were long and the neckline was a little wide.

And.. it caused emotions. At first, a slight surprise, and later it was replaced by tenderness and quiet joy.

He definitely has a couple dozen of that image in his phone.

Baki Hanma, Kozue Motsumoto, Orochi Kastumi, Orochi Natsue, Tokugawa Mitsunari (in this case, the clothes just fit), Sikorsky (the coat was stolen), Koushou Shinogi

neutrality

Oh, it's uncritical for him, trust me. He has eyes, he knew who he was meeting and immediately appreciated your size. So... Your height is just your height. He doesn't attach much importance to it. However, he will support you if you have complexes about it.

Yujiro hanma, Orochi Doppo, Kaku Kayoh, Shibukawa Goki, Ryuukou Yanagi, Spec, Kureha Shinogi

[silly-inky]

LMAO I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING

Slightly explicit writing ahead (dick jokes)

(This is a bowuigi post) King Boo wants to possess Luigi for whatever reason and Bowser doesn't want King Boo doing this, so he attempts to deter him from doing so

King Boo: it would be payback! Plus think of the power I would have!

Bowser: I don't think you'd want to do that Boo.

King Boo: why not? Luigi is literally my greatest enemy

Bower shouting out the first thing he can think of: do you really want to possess something that's had my dick inside it?!

King Boo: ....

Bowser: ....

King Boo: I'm sorry, what?

Bowser panicking: YOU HEARD ME!

King Boo genuinely reconsidering his original plan, he looks so confused and flabbergasted, he genuinely doesn't know what to do

King Boo: and you decide to share that piece of Information with me now why?! I could have gone my entire afterlife not knowing that!!

Bowser: well it would have been weird to see you walking around in the body of the guy I'm in a situationship with! And I'm not exactly going to tell you about my personal life like that in the middle of one of our meetings am I?!

King Boo: I genuinely wish I did not have ears at this very moment. NOW I CAN'T GET THAT IMAGE OUT OF MY BRAIN YOU ASS!! ewwwwww why??!! WHY???!!!

Bowser: Your the one making it more weird!! I just don't want you to possess Luigi okay!! Don't be such a baby!!

King Boo: HOW AM I THE ONE MAKING IT WEIRD?! YOU LITERALLY JUST TOLD ME HOW YOU'VE HAD YOUR MEAT SAUSAGE IN HIM BEFORE!! HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO RESPOND TO THAT?! why couldn't you have just been normal and said you guys were dating or some shit! He's my enemy but if you guys are dating I'm not going to do that!! Fuck sake Bowser, you've ruined my entire day

Bowser: I panicked okay?! I'm sorry!!

King Boo: I genuinely think I will never be able to look at him the same after this.

Sometime later after they called down and had a moment to theselves.

King Boo: ...

Bowser...

King Boo: how in the actual fuck did you manage to bag Luigi? How did that happen.

Bowser: well it all started with-

(This was genuinely funny to me, I'm very sorry)

[itscherrylipsforme]

Everything fits into place: Oliver Quick x fem!reader

Part 1 here

Summary: After having fallen in love with you at an Oxford's library, Oliver planned everything out until he could have you wrapped around his fingers. Now that your school year is over, you have been invited to spend the firsts months of Summer in Saltburn. You were certainly not expecting what you found there, but don't worry, Ollie was already three steps ahead

Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (A little bit spicy, but nothing really sexual)

Requested: yes

Words: Something between 700-800 words

Author's rambles: As I have seen that people somehow enjoyed my shitty writing I decided to make part two. Hope you like it!

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Oliver hadn't told you much about Saltburn, you could only gather the crumbs of information he left once in a while. A beautiful big home in the northwest that he had inherited from a woman he considered to be kind of his "second mother" after she passed away, that was all that you knew about it. Once he also he mentioned that she had met her through her son, who had been in Ollie's year in uni, that had committed suicide when both of them were young. All of that seemed like tragic memories that your boyfriend tried to bury in his past, so you didn't want to dig much on it not to hurt him.

But during the three hours long car ride that you had to do from Oxford to your Summer destination, you were expecting that at least he could describe it with more the detail. To your surprise he didn't and when the two of you arrived at the mansion he was able to call "home" now, just surprised was not the exact word you would use to describe what you were feeling. When the maid who had opened the doors of that palace to the two of you was ordered to dismiss by "Mr Quick" as they referred him, you couldn't help but ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you were practically living like a prince, Ollie?"

"Had to make sure you truly loved me and weren't after my money, darling" He answered plainly and tried to change the subject "Come on, let me show you the place"

"You know I am not like that" You protested. Maybe you wouldn't go as far as saying that you were offended, but you would be lying if you said his words didn't hurt a little at least.

You trusted him with every piece of your heart and soul. Told him all your secrets and all the times you had lost all your hope. You loved him enough to talk about it when you fell like nothing more like some broken mess that no one, not even him, could fix. And yet he couldn't do the same? Couldn't he trust enough for this until now Somehow Oliver managed to read your thoughts from the expression of worry on your face

"My beautiful beautiful y/n I am aware of It now. But trust me, I know better than anyone else how far people can go to gain power, I needed to be sure" His eyes seemed to darken a little for a few brief second lost in his mind until he came back and rested his hand sweetly on your cheek "How can I apologize to my beloved girlfriend for putting her through a trial?"

"Well, one of the few things you did tell me about this place was that it had a library" A little grin played on your lips while he held your hand and guided you through the maze that mansion was.

Four weeks later, you two were laying in the bed you have been sharing during your stay. His arm around your waist a little bit too tight, as you had learned he liked, and your head resting on the crock of his neck. It was one of those lazy mornings that you could spend peacefully in each other embrace.

"You know every day for the rest of our life could be like this" His nose and lips dancing dangerously close to your face as his hand rubbed your back up and down.

"Ollie, that was a funny one" A small giggle echoed in the room.

"I am serious y/n" His big blue eyes glued to you as he started kissing, your forehead, your cheek, your lips... "We could sooner than later. Marry, have you in my bed each morning, and maybe a few kids around if you are up for it. Doesn't it sound good for your"

"I need to finish my degree first, Ollie" His lips now on your neck, and gosh he knew pretty well that you couldn't say no to anything when he did those kind of things.

"Of course you have that, I am not saying otherwise" Actually, you didn't need to finish it, once you were his you wouldn't have to work a single day in your life. But if you wished to gain your diploma to be happy, he wouldn't dare to say otherwise. "Maybe after you graduated, what do you think about?"

You just smiled at his sweet trail of kisses, and he took it as a yes. Soon enough you would be tied forever, soon enough you would be his wife, soon enough you two would be better than the Cattons have ever been. Soon enough, everything from his plan would fit into place.

[nixiliv]

REST

Authors Ramble : Hi! This is my first post. This is my first time ever letting anyone read something I've written. I'm nervous, but it's cool. This was written super fast from a random thought trying to go to sleep. Hope you enjoy!

PS: If you have any tips on writing, do share. byyeee

Pairing: Chan x reader

Genre : Fluff

Usually you were the one trying to coax Chan to get some sleep, but for the past month the roles have reversed. Between full-time work and deciding to take some college courses to fluff up your resume for an opening that will soon be coming up in your job, you haven’t been getting to bed before 2 am.

Chan has found you more than once on the couch with laptop in your lap, and your head is leaned back, mouth wide open snoring. You would be so embarrassed if you knew he had seen you like that, but he thinks it's the cutest thing. His baby girl is putting in the extra effort to achieve a goal she has set her mind to. That's one of the things he loved about you, you were determined when you set your mind to something. He could tell though all this hard work was taking a toll on you. You weren’t eating much, you weren’t interested in going out anywhere, and though you always looked good you looked so tired. And not to mention he swears you have had on the same shirt for three days now.

Chan had been coming home unusually early this past week. You noticed, but didn’t think much of it. You were too busy caught up in your studies. It was getting close to midnight and he noticed your head starting to droop. “Babe? Don’t you think we should get some shut eye, yeah?” Chan said, startling you a little out of your light slumber.  “No…no. I’m good. Just stretching my neck”, while showing how you were so-called stretching your neck. “ I finished a quiz and I wanted to get ahead in my other class because work is gonna be a doozy next week.”

Chan doesn’t respond and goes back to what he is doing, but the face he gives you isn’t convinced that you don’t need to call it a night.

The words on your screen are starting to swim together and your eyes are burning. You keep trying to blink the sleep away. One of your telltale signs you are fighting sleep is when you start to fidget, touching your face, rubbing your arms, anything to stimulate your senses. You let out a big yawn with a big stretch, “ I’m thinking another cup of coffee is needed ” you say to yourself. Standing up to head to the kitchen, Chan grabs your wrist as you are about to walk past, “ Oh no you don’t.” he says while standing up to get in front of you. 

“What are you doing? I want to get some coffee.” 

“You don’t need anymore coffee. You need sleep!”

You took slight offense to his response, “ Excuse you. I know you're not the one telling someone they should go to bed. I have important things I need to get done too, just like you do. So move!”

Chan let out a deep breath. He knows that snarky remark all too well, because that has been the way he has responded more than once. It’s just exhaustion. As you were trying to walk through him, he hoisted you up over his shoulder. You began to fight and fuss, “PUT ME DOWN! CHAN NOW!”  You were kicking and punching, thrashing around like a fish out of water. None of your attempts to escape fazed him. In fact he thought it was funny. “Y/N, relax. You are just gonna hurt yourself.”  While you didn’t hurt yourself, he was right about you wearing yourself out. With you still on his shoulder he walked you both into the bathroom and placed you on the toilet. “Let’s get us ready for bed.”

You pouted while brushing teeth and washing face, but after getting out of the tub from your hot bath you were feeling so relaxed. Chan laid out a pair of pajamas for you while he straightened the area in the living room you were studying in. After getting dressed, you snuggle underneath the cool blankets. They smelled of lavender. Your eyes were feeling heavy. 

Moments later you feel the bed move, Chan pulls you close to him on his chest. “Night night baby girl”, Chan whispers with a kiss to your forehead. All you can do is grunt in response and snuggle closer letting the warmth of his body envelop you to sleep.

[looseduke]

okay insane thought about names and the feelings i have about them as a transgender blended family kid. it requires a leap of logic where the fantasy high parent couples remain dating and get married or otherwise legally bind themselves together but follow me on this for a moment. also i don’t know or care if this follows canon im just deciding it does

gilear took sandra lynn’s last name

could not afford to change it after the divorce

gilear is just one of those ppl who really likes having the same last name as his life partners, doesn’t have to be his name, he just thinks it’s nice

(sandra lynn liked her name and though she has Many Issues and might have changed her name in an attempt at normalcy gilear’s name was definitely something outlandishly stupid and he suggested it first anyway so it worked out)

do u see where im going with this

gilear seacaster.

fabian is furious but this ain’t about him

something so funny about taking your (way funnier if they don’t even get married) girlfriend’s dead husband’s last name

he keeps faeth as a middle name bc it’s still a connection to fig that he values and wants to keep

anyway. jawbone hears about all of this. absolutely loves it. thinks it’s awesome

jawbone o’shaughnessy-faeth!

yes with the apostrophe and the hyphen. yes every time.

he likes the connection to gilear and fig as much as he does the one to sandra lynn <3

when consulted fig was SUPER enthusiastic about another dad. gilear was like sigh. that might as well happen. im already being dunked upon by my mean stepson. go ahead.

okay the grand finale. the reason i even made this fucking post

adaine kills her dad, gets adopted, and starts to wonder if she should change her name

adaine makes amends with her sister, and starts to wonder if she should keep it

jawbone lets her know right away that he’ll support her decision no matter what, but it takes a long time for her to decide

it takes watching gilear and fabian bicker over their shared last name, watching fig get sappy over gilear holding onto the name faeth, watching fig and jawbone get sappy over THEIR shared last name, watching sandra lynn hide a smile whenever it comes up, watching, watching, watching

watching her sister learn and grow and love her unconditionally

she makes her decision, and when her dad brings her home from the fantasy dmv, there’s a new name on her ID

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth. yes all three names. yes with the apostrophe. yes with the hyphens. every time

it’s for her dad, yes, for the man who gave her a home, who helped her find her strength, who is always her safe space, but it’s for more then that too

it’s for her sister, who for better or worse is in all of her earliest memories. who never underestimated her. who’s trying, every day

it’s for her sister, who called her awesome on the first day of school. who’s always there for her. who wears her heart on her sleeve and teaches adaine it’s okay to be emotional. who’s her best friend

it’s for the man who took her in when he had next to nothing to offer, who shared his extra garlic knots and vending machine snacks, who hosted his daughters strange friends night after night without question or complaint

and it’s for the elven woman sitting across from her at the dinner table, who understands her greatest fear better then anyone else and has built a life for herself despite her mistakes. who protected her on their quest. who opened her house for about 6 teenagers to live there permanently and anywhere between 3 and 10 more to hang out as much as they want

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth, the people’s oracle <3

[dokries]

april shower

pairing: wen junhui (jun) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 795

warnings: mentions of food near the end, classic kiss in the rain (gone wrong)

author note: this is another repost haha i find it funny that i never posted it in april actually; the first time was the last day of december, and now it’s may already! lots of love <3

masterlist

running ahead of him, you stop under the only street lamp on the street to jun’s apartment that isn’t lit up. as you turn around, your mouth stretches at the edges at the sight of him coming closer and his childlike smile, even as his dark dress shirt—which he had on because you had gone to a fancy restaurant for dinner—was turning a colour similar to how the midnight sky looked in winter thanks to the rain shower that had started as soon as you left the restaurant.

it was april, and the two of you should’ve expected it to rain, but the forecast earlier had said there was a low chance, so you decided to not take an umbrella (oh, how you were regretting your decision now).

“are you cold? i know i gave you my blazer but…” jun’s voice shakes you from your thoughts, hesitation clear in his tone.

with the mentioned fleece-lined garment perched on your shoulders, you shake your head. “i’m fine moonjun! your blazer is very warm.”

“this night feels so…magical, doesn’t it, moon pie?” you ask, moving closer to him. at that moment, to jun, your eyes look even brighter than the night view of the city he saw every night from on the 7th floor (which is saying a lot, considering the light pollution in his area).

“every day is magical with you,” he responds, winking jokingly, though you know he means his words.

sticking your tongue out, you venture out closer to the middle of the road, disregarding all the warnings you had been told by your parents when you were younger. “you know how in most of the movies we watched last week, there was a scene where they kissed in the rain?” you mention offhandedly, reminiscing on the rom-com marathon you had with jun on the comfy loveseat in his living room.

“yes, my love?” jun says, walking fast to catch up with you before you go too far; though there were no cars to be seen this late, he still didn’t want to risk you getting hurt.

turning back to look at him, you snake your arms around his neck, jun’s arms automatically finding their way in a comfortable position around your waist. you give him a lopsided smile before speaking lowly, “we should have our own rom-com moment, shouldn’t we?”

seeing the confused look on your boyfriend’s face, you giggle. “close your eyes, jun!”

once he follows your instructions—not without grumbling about how you never tell him what you’re going to do under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from you—you make sure his eyes are completely closed, and he’s not pulling some sneaky trick on you. once you’re satisfied, you cup his face with your hands, tracing over the small moles all over his face, before placing a prompt peck on his left cheek and taking a step away from his warm arms.

his eyes remain closed for a few seconds, a crease in between his eyebrows forming as time passes before he opens them to see you facing him with a wide, mischievous grin. he lets out a huff of disappointment before rolling his eyes. “come on, that’s not what you’re supposed to do after all that hype!” he whines, grabbing your arm and clinging to your side.

you stare down at him—he’s made himself look smaller so you pity him more, and it works. he looks like a poor stray cat, and the fact that his hair is wet and sticking together strengthens that image in your head.

“aw…my poor meow meow, do you want another kissy kissy?” you tease, faking a pout before giggling at jun’s deadpan expression as he pulls himself away from you.

“…okay, fine.” he starts, looking away from you with a pout. “be that way, and you’re the one who’s gonna have to make hot chocolate once we get to my apartment!” he finishes with a huff—missing the way your eyes turn into hearts at his cuteness.

“well…if you say so. race you home, junnie!” you yell at him before running off, sending your flabbergasted cat-like boyfriend a teasing look: your tongue out and one eye closed, like the emoji he uses ironically all the time. turning back to the goal of the apartment building, you swear you can hear the sound of him running after you—or maybe that’s just the result of the rain picking back up again, dousing both you and jun in water as you run.

sure, you’ll both be shivering once you get to the elevator and grin at each other when you realize you’re dripping water onto the green carpet of the entrance, but when else would you get to enjoy an april shower with the love of your life?

[magicalbats]

Penance (Suguru x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 8962

Warnings: afab!reader, hamfisted religious themes, rimming, ass eating as punishment, themes of humiliation/degradation/ objectification, some gendered language, reader is not privileged with an orgasm (rip)

A/N: I spent some time going through my WIPs tonight and after giving this one a quick proof read I decided to just go ahead and post it. I have, no joke, been sitting on it since 2021. lmao I think it might be time.

⭐

“That’s a rather sharp tongue you’ve got, isn’t it?” Suguru’s voice is soft and pointed, all understated elegance and quiet laughter that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He extends one long hand towards you; curls the fingers under your chin and tilts your face up with a deceptively gentle nudge so you have no choice but to look directly at him. 

There is nothing soft about the expression staring back at you, even for as placid as it is. The tension pulling at the corner of his mouth gives his small smile a razor's edge, so indescribably minuscule you would have missed it had you not been sitting so close and that was to say absolutely nothing of the forged steel glint in his dark irises. It was funny, almost. That he should accuse you of having a sharp tongue when he was all carefully filed edges and beautifully cast steel that had survived hundreds of blazing infernos just to become the living embodiment of an executioner's sword looming over you in the here and now. 

He was the judge, the jury and the butcher all wrapped into one neat, perfectly coiffed package with a smile and a kind word to spare, and you would have followed him to any stretch of this world or the next for even a sliver of that double edged approval. Even knowing the danger he posed to you and everyone like you, his subtle threats so politely concealed yet plain as day to anyone who paid enough attention. Even knowing how lethal his very existence was, you would still willfully lay yourself across that altar and fulfill your role as the sacrificial lamb he always seemed to be searching for. 

No, not in spite of it. 

Because of it. 

Faintly humming as if in thought, he turns your face this way and that, still with the tips of his fingers touching the spot under your chin just so. It’s a featherlight mockery of suggestion rather than outright demand but you obediently follow the motion as if there were magnets stuck in your skin, guiding you where his hand was not. Silently, you beg the blood that pounds wildly in your ears to subside so you can hang onto every word that drips from his poisoned mouth unhindered. 

“You know … I’m inclined to say it’s not very ladylike, especially for someone of your impeccable breeding, but. Well.” A pause while he studies your profile in silent contemplation before finally directing your attention back around with a brief, lingering tap that makes you swallow. “I suppose it’s not entirely without its charm. That being said, I do believe there are some better uses we could put it to that don’t involve lashing out at others, hm? Wouldn’t you agree?” 

You shrivel under his guillotine stare as well as the sweetly posed question that seems to cut you straight to the bone. It makes you wither like a once succulent rose that had been cruelly denied sunlight and water, and air itself with which to survive. This was not the way someone should be speaking to a grown woman. Neither was this the way a grown woman should allow herself to be spoken to. It was condescension in its purest, most vile form - or, at least, you’re quite certain that’s what it is. 

Suguru’s kind, agreeable demeanor and his honeyed tone of voice make it hard to tell sometimes. The stark contrast between one and the other and the next leaves you reeling; intoxicated beyond all measure off nothing more than just his mere presence and its bold study in broad strokes of contradiction. You were regretfully helpless before it though. Eager to have those arsenic dipped words aimed at you for the vindicating thrill of it as much as you shied away from it, fearing their burning sting. 

“I’m sorry …” It’s all you can think to say. 

His expression shifts and the threadbare tension fades. But rather than softening at your mouse squeak apology it only grows sharper with the hard lines of put upon pity that slither across his face like a stretching, clawing shadow. It comes in the form of a stilted upward draw of his brows to accompany the cooing pucker of damnably kissable lips. If you didn’t know any better you could almost convince yourself that he was looking upon a contemptible stray or a particularly unfortunate child rather than at you. Certainly not you, with all your money and the posh upbringing you’d enjoyed by virtue of your well to-do parents and their considerable sway in the world of politics. Your top rated education, your impressive track record of boyfriends, each more affluent than the last. The shiny new car you’d abandoned in favor of coming here right along with everything else from your past life, even the expensive jewelry you were in the habit of buying for yourself just because. 

These were the things that made people look at you in envy, not ignominious disregard. No one had ever stared you down quite like this before and that, too, makes you wither from the inside out as much as it has your gut twisting with a surge of molten heat. This was not the way a grown woman of your social standing was supposed to react to being degraded, verbally or otherwise. You knew that as much as you knew the back of your own hand. But you only lean towards him as if seeking out the warmth of the sun you’d been so long denied rather than scuttling away as you probably should have. 

Would have, if you were only just a little bit smarter. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, feeling like you owed him that and so much more. 

“Whatever do you have to apologize for, love? I said it wasn’t without its charm, didn’t I?” 

Tilting his head, Suguru gives your chin another soft tap as if to encourage you but it has the opposite effect of making your bottom lip warble. Something white hot and steely flashes behind his eyes, and he tips closer until the end of his nose stops just short of touching yours. Those long fingers remain a steady, unforgiving knife on your jugular throughout it all. 

“Oh, but don’t fret now. There’s no reason for tears, is there? You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?” 

You wonder, idly, if this is some kind of trap. 

In the same breath you decide that this is most certainly a trap. No doubt about it, but you find yourself sadly nodding along with him all the same. He pulls you into it, guides the motion out of you just as a master puppeteer might manipulate his hollow wooden dolls, and you’re happy to go along with it, as with anything else, so long as he keeps looking at you like that. 

“I know, darling. I know you are. You try your best to be good, don’t you? That mouth of yours is what gets you into trouble, isn’t it?”

Another nod, and this time you can’t seem to stop the tears from tracking hot streaks down your burning face. You were flushed in shame and something not far off from excitement, equally torn between the two. Uncertain if you should preen under the blazing spotlight of his attention, as natural inclination would dictate, or the groveling, desperate urge in your higher functioning mind to rectify your mistakes so he wouldn’t be upset with you anymore.

The latter wins out quickly enough. It always does, particularly when his sugar coated reprimands make you feel so infantile and pathetic. Just as small and meaningless as a chewed up wad of gum stuck to the sidewalk. You were willing to do anything to earn your spot back in his good graces again. Anything. 

Clearly seeing what he was looking for now, Suguru’s smile slides back into place with a staggeringly slow curl across the line of his mouth. It’s somehow even sharper this time, and you’re almost blinded by the glint of a blade bathed in sunlight. 

“There, there. I understand. Really, I do. Your tongue just doesn’t know any better, does it?” 

You suck in a wet, faltering breath. “No …” 

His lashes droop to an almost seductive half lidded state, promising the absolution of eternal rest as much as the dizzying, unspeakable heights of carnal pleasure he could bring you. Drawing a carefully tempered breath that seems to steal the air from your lungs, he slides his hand out from under your chin and reaches up to wipe the tears off one cheek with a lingering swipe of his thumb. He pauses then, for just a moment, while he studies your face before sedately reaching around to repeat the process on the other side. 

“Don’t you think we should give it something more productive to do then?” 

It's barely more than a whisper, intended for your ears only in an otherwise empty, cavernous, sparsely furnished room that was so horribly still and quiet you would almost believe only the dead walked here. 

And you shudder for him - tremble and shake like some small, frightened creature caught under the talons of an incomprehensibly vicious monster. There was close to nothing you would not do for him, no humiliation you wouldn’t endure for his sake and his sake alone. You’d happily let him make an example out of you and mould you into the idyllic martyr he seemed to want so bad. It was a blessing coming from him, and you warm with the rush of helium in your chest that swells at being chosen by the god of sharp edges and black silk. 

“Please tell me what to do, Geto-sama. Please.” 

“Hush,” He mouths the word like a prayer. “I have just the thing in mind. You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Anything.” That was very much the truth. 

A pleased exhale from him teases the flyaways in your hair and Suguru’s hand retreats, making you whimper at the loss of contact. Instinctively you try to follow, tipping forward on your knees so far that you almost lose balance, but he only pins you with an amused look of warning as he reclines back against his plush throne of pillows. Still so sharp and jagged, even at ease, and you watch him get settled in rapt fascination, unsure what he would have of you. 

You were eager to learn though, and the serrated glint in his eye never strays from your face, ensuring you don’t look away as he reaches down to grab at the bulk of his robe and tug at it. Pulls the heavy fabric up, up, up with a quiet slither and an almost coquettish flourish to accompany it. 

Slowly, more and more of him is revealed to your voracious gaze — much more than you would have ever dreamed yourself worthy of looking upon — and your throat goes bone dry when you realize he’s much more sturdy than the shapeless robe would have had you believe. Almost sickeningly so, and the unbearable heat that spears through you almost bowls you over on the spot. 

Nicely shaped calves that speak of an active life outside this temple, outside of this role he's taken here on these hallowed grounds, lead the way up to a pair of well defined thighs, beautiful in their muscle heavy composition. It’s perfectly scandalous in its own right to have him baring himself at you like this but he doesn’t stop there and instead drags one corner of the garment even higher, teasing you with a glimpse of his smooth hip. The realization that he’s not wearing anything underneath makes you sway on the spot, well and truly lightheaded now. 

“G - Geto-sama, I - -“ 

“What’s the matter, love?” He cuts across you in a tone that hits its mark like the lethal swing of a battle sword, rendering you immediately and irreparably mute. “I’m certain you just said you would do anything. Or was I mistaken?” 

You hesitate. 

You clench your clammy hands into tight fists. 

You don’t know what to do, how to react. What to say. 

The world itself seems to stand still as you surreptitiously glance at the spot between his legs with brazen, boldfaced interest, unable to conceal it even if you tried. That part of him is still obscured by the pool of fabric gathered in his lap, however, and he laughs at the eager look of apprehension in your expression. Light and airy, and so horribly cruel you feel the prick of fresh tears in your eyes again. 

“Not that, I’m afraid. That’s only for good girls who don’t need to have their behavior corrected. You really should know that by now.”

You feel the hurt of that deep in your bones and it leaves behind a throbbing ache as if he’d ruthlessly brought a harsh leather strap down across your back. He may as well have done just that for as much anguish it causes, how cleanly it slices despite his voice maintaining its ever pleasant intonation, and you implore him with a wet, wide eyed look. If not that then what? 

But Suguru only inclines his chin in lieu of a proper response, inviting you to keep your eyes on him. To keep watching as he decorously turns over onto his side and then further over onto his front with the topmost leg splaying out from his body at a wide arch. He cranes his neck around to look back at you over his shoulder then, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. 

Both because you’d never seen him look at anyone with the same tawdry, undeniably flirtatious little smirk that he gives you and because your scrambled brain was already starting to connect the dots. You weren’t stupid. You may have been willfully, happily dumb and malleable for him but you weren’t stupid, once you got right down to it, and yet you can’t find the presence of mind to protest. Nor do you manage the wherewithal needed to argue against what you already knew was coming. Your heartbeat pounds a wild rhythm against your rib cage, threatening to burst right out of you as he brings his hand down to hike the back of his robe up in similar fashion to the front, teasing you with it. 

The curvy backs of his thighs are just as enticing and you voraciously soak them up, admiring the smooth, flawlessly warm tone of his skin while you let them draw your attention straight up to the meat of his ass. It’s tight and narrow, as most men’s are, but unexpectedly soft looking in texture. Just plump enough to offer something to squeeze and hold on to. It gives the impression of being the only part of his body with any real cushion, completely lacking in any of the sharp angles you see in his face and his hands. 

You swallow so hard you audibly choke on it. 

Even having already surmised what his intention was, you still struggle to wrap your head around the reality of it staring back at you. The embarrassment is felt almost as sharply as the humiliation, but neither quite compare to the nauseating spike of arousal that rips through you with all the destructive force of a lightning strike to wreak havoc on you from head to toe. You were far more horrified by that than of what he was offering you. What he was asking you to do, and your lungs painfully hitch with the ragged breath you suck in. 

Your willingness to do it was one thing. Something you could easily overlook as being for his sake. His benefit. His enjoyment. There was no low you weren’t prepared to degrade yourself to as long as it was for him. Always him. But to derive genuine pleasure from an act so demeaning? So inherently disrespectful to you as a woman, and also as a person. As a fellow human being. What was so wrong with you, on a fundamental level, that even such as this would turn you on? 

But, you remind yourself, Suguru was not so much a man as he was a god. Something that existed far above the banalities of humanity no matter how polite or agreeable he might look. 

And he exudes all that and so much more even as he reaches around to smooth a big hand over the swell of one cheek, digging his fingertips in just enough for you to see the dimples it creates in the skin. Showing you exactly how right you’d been about it’s plushy give and further mortifying you in the process. You never would have guessed his build to be this stocky when the usual robes he donned hung so loose and unassuming around him, thoroughly concealing his figure from prying eyes such as yours, but you were sure to never forget now that you’d borne witness to it yourself. The shape of him was forever burned into the backs of your eyelids like a brand. At the very least you were sure to never again know a restful night's sleep for however long you might live. 

“Come now, darling. You won’t get anything done sitting over there, will you?” He purrs, his sly smirk growing when you only sit there, frozen to the spot. A marble statue prostrated at the foot of his altar. “Or have I asked too much of you, hm?” 

Mechanically, you drag your attention up to his face and Suguru immediately chortles at the vacancy staring back at him. 

“My, could it be you simply don’t understand? Shall I spell it out for you then?” 

Your stomach and your pussy both clench in tandem when he purses his lips, cooing at you again, just like before. Belittling condescension oozes from every pore in his body as he tips his head further back, resembling a playful pinup model spread out for a particularly risqué photo shoot and your gaze quickly drops back down to zero in on the savory way he cups his own ass. With a stilted sigh of anticipation he pulls, dragging one cheek from the other until you’re afforded a straight, uninterrupted view of the tight wrinkle of his hole, the gentle curve of his taint directly below it and the silken weight of his ballsack where it’s settled against the cushions. You can’t see his cock like this — can’t tell if he’s hard or flaccid, and you aren’t sure which would have been better worse — but you practically swoon at the thought of it being trapped between his stomach and the pillows he’d laid himself out on. 

He clearly sees the disoriented look of shock on your face yet he pays it no mind. Doesn’t give you a chance to recover, to get your thoughts sorted out as he shifts and draws his splayed knee higher up on the floor. Keeps his body spread open for you when he curls his hand inward and directs your frazzled attention to the pink pucker with a light, almost playful tap of his fingertips. 

“Right here.” He tells you, all sultry smooth and eternally damning. “Your tongue will do quite nicely, I think. It’s certainly better suited to this than starting pointless arguments, anyway.” 

You think he’s probably right about that. He has to be, because he’s Geto Suguru. The man you’ve decided to follow until death do you part, the very light of your life. The apple of your eye. The fire that burns and smolders, even now, in the deepest, darkest recesses of your curling loins. There’s no way someone such as him, with all his hard edges and jagged points thinly concealed under the serene placidity of the Buddha himself — surely someone like that can’t be wrong about anything but least of all this. 

Your arousal, too, cannot be wrong for that reason alone, so you numbly shuffle forward. Drag yourself across the tatami to close the small distance which suddenly feels like a great chasm separating you from him. And Suguru watches on with an inferno that threatens to set you ablaze raging behind his dark irises. You can see the suspense, the twisted excitement curling just under the surface as if it were a living, breathing, all too tangible serpent housed under his skin. So real you could almost reach out and touch it, if you dared. 

You don’t, of course. Not only because you knew better than to be so presumptuous, unworthy as you were, but particularly not after he’d already presented you with your task. A trial to endure in the name of forgiveness. Your penance for saying cruel things to one of the other girls in the congregation out of jealousy and spite. Angry that she might have caught his eye a little too much when you were right there, so much more deserving of his attention than she was. Especially when you were so very unaccustomed to not getting your way. It was an ugly thing, and you knew you’d earned this. 

Suguru may have had a propensity for being cruel in a subtle, needle-pinprick sort of way but he was never, ever unjust. 

Going to your hands and knees now, you lean over his prone body with a strange sense of detached excitement so you can regard him up close. His skin truly is flawless, warm and smooth with sparse curling hair to frame the soft colored hole nestled between his shapely cheeks. He smelled good, too. Like soap and detergent, and the faintest undercurrent of masculine musk that goes straight to your brain, sparking something inside you that makes your cunt squeeze around nothing. There’s no hesitation to do it and he must see that because his smirk inexplicably sharpens, looking like something you could well and truly cut yourself on — but when you swoop down to shove your face into the cradle of his body he stops you with a firm hand abruptly smacked to your forehead. 

Left reeling and disoriented, you allow him to push you back just a smidge. The wry twinkle you find in his gaze when you glance up at him makes you flush red hot, as embarrassed as you are castigated by the gesture. “I - I’m sorry - -“

“Now, now. There’s no rush, is there?” Simpering at you, he drags the tips of his fingers over your temple and down the side of your face so he can deliver a light, mocking tap to the underside of your chin. “You should savor it. Enjoy it. Unless you don’t want to, that is?” 

You shake your head so fast it makes you dizzy. “No, I do! I want to, Geto-sama! Really!” 

The sound he noises is not unlike a purr, and you gratefully lean into the warmth of his hand when he reaches back and curls those long fingers around the curve of your skull so he can pull you back in. “Good. Then take it nice and slow, just like that …”

Under his steady guidance, you lean down much more tentatively than the first time and let him press you into the meat of his ass where you deliver a soft, fleeting kiss to the skin. Suguru hums in appreciative approval at your acquiescence but continues to hold you so you don’t hurry it. So you don’t dive in like some kind of animal. 

Shame at your own behavior chokes you up and you suck in a wet, faltering breath even as you softly peck at the swell of flesh, distantly noting how warm he is as well as the taste of salt on his skin. 

The tickle of fine peach fuzz under your lips and the incomprehensibly pleasant smell that you can taste on the back of your tongue. It’s overwhelmingly easy to get lost in him like this, the act itself far more gratifying than you would have ever thought something such as this could be. Even for all your blind idolization towards the man laid out underneath you, holding you close with your face shoved up against his ass, you still hadn’t expected to feel quite so much satisfaction just from kissing his body. It was all you’d wanted in recent memory, yearning for nothing more than a chance to worship him as you were so certain he deserved to be worshipped, and yet you were still taken aback by it. 

And how could you not be when you were so intimately close, indulging the sort of physical touch you’d never been permitted to share with him until now? You’d fantasized about this — something like this, plenty of times in the past. Rubbed your clit raw and soaked through your panties more frequently than you could even count while you steadily drove yourself mad with wanting. It’s no wonder then that you were so willing to demean yourself when it meant getting the chance to actually touch him like this. The real him, and not the Geto Suguru that exists only in your mind. 

Your pussy gives a muted throb at the soar of vindication that suddenly tears through you, coating the seat of your underwear in sticky slick even as you lean into your work and press so tight against his flesh that it becomes hard to breathe. And of course Suguru allows it, softly cooing at you just as a priest offering comfort to the broken, desperate sinner at death's door might. It sounds like salvation in your ringing ears but you knew it was in all reality the whisper of eternal damnation. The abrasive shuffle of the hangman’s noose around your neck, or perhaps last rites read moments before the swing of the executioner's axe. 

But if this is how you were to die then you would go happily, merrily to that chopping block. 

“Mmm  … that’s it, darling. Nice and easy for me. Haste isn’t going to get you anywhere, now is it?” 

You shake your head with a muffled sound of agreement, basking in the warmth of his skin against yours while you listen to Suguru’s honey dipped voice filter over you. It’s reminiscent of a comfortingly warm mist against your flesh and in your ears. It was the one and only constant in your cotton stuffed head which couldn’t decide what, if anything, it should focus on above all the rest and you desperately latch onto it in search of direction. Cling to it for guidance, and heed its call to you on an exigent summons that you wouldn’t have been able to ignore even if you’d wanted to. 

It was making you crazy. 

He was making you crazy. 

Opening your mouth wide, you eagerly nibble and suck at his skin with rapidly growing urgency, desperate to feel more of him against you. Desperate to take more of him inside of you. He tastes so good, so good, that you can’t even think straight anymore now that you have the flavor of him marinating on your tongue. Your internal frenzy steadily grows while you try to feast on the communion of his body in earnest until he finally reaches down to deliver a sharp flick to your forehead, making you hiss.

“No marks.” 

Blinking back the sting of tears, you let up on the meaty swell of his cheek in favor of kissing the reddened spot you’ve left behind. It’s not enough to bruise, probably; but still regretfully noticeable, and you purse your lips against it in apologetic reverence. You should have known better. Should have asked before doing something of your own volition without his direct order to do it first. The weight of this newest transgression pulls an emotional sniffle out of you, and he mockingly chuckles in response to the sound. 

“How cute. You want to taste me that badly? I didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic, sweetheart.” 

You nod, dragging your cheek across his plushy ass, making it pudge under the pressure of your face even as a slow trickling tear dribbles from the corner of your eye. It follows the same line already tracked by the ones that came before it but, rather than finding your chin where it could drip off onto the floor, it spills over where your skin meets his and pools between the two of you. 

Softly, Suguru clicks his tongue at the sensation so you lift your head enough to lick it off of him in apology. The bitter salt is repugnant compared to the subtle, almost airy flavors of his body and you draw a faltering breath as you sedately work your way over the swell of his ass cheek one kitten lick at a time, working your way inward. 

He sighs, ever so softly, while you do it. Relaxes the pressure of his hand on the back of your head in favor of absently caressing his long fingers over your hair, teasing strays and flyaways. The tiny baby hairs on the nape of your neck. This unexpectedly tender touch from him, your savior and executioner wrapped into one, has you shuddering over him, wracked with the relief that comes with his forgiveness. You still had work to do. Still had a much deserved penance to complete, but with his guidance you were on the right path to salvation again. 

Carefully, you kiss a hot trail over the curve of his buttocks and start to work your way down. Nudge yourself even closer so you can lean into him and at last dip your face into the crevice of his body. The lingering scent of soap and male musk grows stronger like this, not at all unpleasant but so incredibly heady that it seems to rush straight to your cunt. You pointedly choose to ignore that though, and instead nuzzle your nose into the space between his cheeks, teasing the puckered hole within. A subdued shiver races through him, slight enough that you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been pressed in so tight against him. He doesn’t move to stop you though and merely curls his finger around a loose strand of hair on your head as if something like this was a casual encounter, not one that was of any particular concern to him. Nothing to get excited or hasty about. A leisurely pastime he indulged in from time to time, frequently enough that it didn’t demand his full attention and yet not so commonplace that he was bored with it. 

Idly, you wonder who else among the congregants has been blessed with this particular gift. 

Spurned on, you press your face in close and deliver a lingering kiss to the center of his asshole. It weakly twitches under the contact, clenching and then unclenching in a mockery of a reciprocal kiss, returning the favor, and you do it again with a quiet groan. Sink into him until you can scarcely breathe but that is hardly of any consequence to you at this point. Suffocating in him like this did not seem so bad a fate — it was one you would have gladly welcomed, in fact. 

Taking your time with it, you slowly peck your way down the gentle slope of his taint and press your tongue flat against the seam, dragging your mouth up until you feel the wrinkled dip pass under it. You do it again and then again, slobbering all over him with slow, savory licks that come back tasting of salt and copper. His skin is so soft and smooth here, and mostly hairless save a few wispy strands that tickle your lips in silent reminder that what you were doing was by all accounts dirty. Certainly not the sort of degrading act someone of your social standing should be subjecting herself to. 

But you hold a deep, overwhelming love for him in your heart, one that trumps all sense of dignity you may have otherwise possessed. The quiet sigh he eventually issues into the still air only further encourages you to keep going. 

Pausing when your tongue next passes over the center of his hole, you worm it forward to poke and prod at the tight entrance. Circle the rim with just the tip until it relaxes against the wet pressure of your mouth so you can dip inside far enough to truly taste him. Your eyes roll back at the heady flavor and you quickly seal your lips around him, alternating between sucking and licking in order to loosen him up more. You wanted to shove your tongue inside of him as far as it would go, but you couldn’t do that when his body was still so tight. 

Suguru hisses faintly at the suction and untangles his hand from your hair, bringing it down so he can dig the fingers into his topmost cheek. He pulls at it, opening himself up to you. Grants you access to the depths of his person, and you eagerly take the chance to wiggle your tongue inside again, reaching deeper than before. His hips give a little jerk at the sensation before subtly angling upward, tipping towards your face. 

“Mmm, that’s it, darling. Just like that …”

Your breath puffs out of you in a ragged exhale, stuttering and clipped. It’s not hard to tell that your panties are soaked at this point and they wetly cling to you as you burrow deeper into the crevice of his ass with a muted shake of your head. You’re already as close as you can get but that doesn’t stop you from trying, even when your nose registers discomfort at the pressure. You can’t stop though. You’re mad with it, this powerful need to crawl inside of him, if only you could. If only it were possible. 

Groaning at the wild squirming of your tongue, he slowly eases up his hold on the meaty swell of his ass and finally rolls the rest of the way over onto his stomach. Barely audible huffs of pleasure reach your ears now, reverberating inside your skull like the sweetest melody of wind chimes to lull you deeper into your trance. The change of position opens him up further to you, you’re delighted to find, and it is with a great deal of satisfaction that you worm your tongue into that clenching passage where you can finally — finally! Massage at his insides to your pounding hearts content. 

“I knew you were well suited to this task,” He murmurs, breathy and distant. Distracted. “Your mouth was made for this, wasn’t it?” 

You noise a muffled sound of agreement, dizzy and lightheaded. Feeling faint with the weight of it all, but especially the significance behind this act of service and the sharp stab of humiliation that comes with it. Degrading though it may be, you’d never felt closer to this man who presented you with salvation in one hand and damnation in the other. You were practically soaring with it, and that sensation only increases, doubles down, when he pushes back on you in encouragement. 

The lower half of your face is a mess of dribbling saliva, cool and sticky on your red hot skin, but you stamp down the urge to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, you lean somehow further into him, meet the not so subtle roll of his hips, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into an easy rhythm like this. Rocking together in near perfect unison for a prolonged beat until he seems to grow impatient, pushing himself against you more insistently no matter how you work him over with your tongue. The thought that you weren’t doing a good enough job brings with it a sharp twinge in your chest, so you quickly follow him up when he  at last pushes up to his knees with a disgruntled huff. 

Positioned like this with his ass jutted upward makes it a little easier to tongue fuck him, his passage relaxing open with the pulse of a muscle spasm that shudders through him. You suck in a wet, gasping breath of air as you enthusiastically gum at him with your lips, noting in a far off, dreamy sort of way that the rim of his hole has become more puckered and raised over the last few minutes. It seems to welcome the soft plunge of your tongue now, greedily swallowing it up each time you dip it inside of him. The slow rise of pleasured groans coming from his mouth attests to the fact that he was enjoying this, assuring you and emboldening you at the same time. You wanted to make him feel good more than anything else in that moment — needed him to feel good — and it is with a great deal of pleasure that you let Suguru drag his ass across your face with a subdued twist of his pelvis, smearing you with sticky spit in the process. 

“Nnghn … yes, darling, yes. Keep that up and you’re going to make me cum … you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Ahnn - a reward for all your hard work, hm?” 

The thought alone is enough to make your whole body seize, pussy clamping tight around nothing so violently that you actually sway on your hands and knees. It was too much. You’d fantasized about just that, about making him shoot hot ropes down your throat more times than you could conceivably count, but you hadn’t thought you’d ever get the chance. It was too good to be true. A once in a lifetime opportunity if there ever was one. 

You’re punch drunk on it as you slip your tongue out of his hole and enthusiastically circle the puffy rim with broad, flat strokes before tracing a wet path down his taint. You pause long enough to deliver a smacking kiss to it before leaning further down, intent on doing the same to his hanging ballsack, but he stops you with a pointed shove of his ass. 

“Stay focused, my love. I already told you where your mouth belongs. Do not overstep my patience with you a second time in one day.” 

Appropriately chastised by that warning, you hurriedly direct your attention back to his waiting hole. He lets out a pleased sigh when you get back to work, lapping at him with renewed vigor and just a pinch of emboldened audacity, but it seems to sufficiently placate him. 

It doesn’t take long for Suguru to relax into it again and he sedately rocks his hips back into the warmth of your mouth, all but basking in the sensation now. You’re glad for it, for his infinitely forgiving nature and his proclivity for giving second, third, even fourth chances to those that loyally followed him. Were he not so kind and magnanimous you probably would have found yourself kicked to the curb long ago. Were he not so understanding of your shortcomings as a mere mortal before his godlike presence you would have surely found yourself booted from the temple, never to return or be seen ever again. 

There was a kindness in his cruelty and you’re reminded of that when he pushes against you, going up on his hands now so he can properly grind himself on your face. You welcome it. Revel in it as you fuck your tongue into him again, delighting in the easy slide of it along his throbbing passage. You had him so obscenely coated in slick that you were sure the insertion of a finger would be a seamless one, but you don’t dare try it. Not without his permission first. Not without the risk of incurring further ire from him and, as if he can sense your thoughts, he twists around to look back at you. 

“Mmm, I’m getting close now … lie back for me, won’t you?” 

You freeze at that, a million questions running through your head all at once, but you give none of them voice as you slowly peel your mouth off him. This time you can’t stop yourself from reaching up to swipe at your wet chin even though it does very little in the way of good. You were soaked in spit from the nose down, something only a good washing could remedy, so you push it to the back of your mind for now and move to obey, hastily laying out flat on your back across the floor. 

For better or worse it doesn’t take long for you to figure out what he’s planning to do, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him shuffle around to kneel beside your head. He looks like an elegant, dangerous cat hovering over you, all the more so when he pins you with that serrated edge smile. The faint flush on his cheekbones doesn’t detract from the air of superiority he holds over you, whether natural or by design, and in fact only seems to highlight his almost preternatural beauty. You’d never known someone so pretty, regardless of their gender, and you can’t quite shake the feeling of looking upon a blessed work of art as he gathers the loose fabric of his priest garb in both hands. 

Then, to your surprise, he throws one leg over your chest, straddling you backwards with his front pointed towards your feet, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. You aren’t sure how to react, what to do, so you just lie there, prone and helpless, while he hikes up the back of his robe to expose his ass again. He was still denying you even the pleasure, the simple satisfaction of seeing his cock with your own eyes, but you were under the distinct impression that he must have been straining hard by the way he looks back at you over his shoulder. The simmering heat in his dark eyes gives him away. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” 

Effectively robbed of your voice, all you can do is shake your head. 

He chuckles at that, clearly amused but unconcerned at your lack of a verbal response, and you hold your breath as he starts to lower himself. You think you might really faint, as overwhelmed as you are by the whole thing. Somehow you manage to keep it together though and you groan faintly when he settles on top of you, not quite sitting his full weight down but enough so that you quickly find it hard to breathe. It feels like you really might suffocate in his ass this time, more so when he gives his hips a slight wiggle to get comfortable and make sure his puckered entrance was right where he wanted it. 

“There. That’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Your attempt at a response is horribly muffled and incomprehensible, a mess of gibberish that may not have made much sense at all even if you weren’t currently being smothered. That clearly doesn’t bother him, however, and you whimper when he reaches down to take your hands in his so he can redirect them around his waist and up to the front of his robe. 

“Hold this for me?” 

Numbly, you fist your fingers into the thick material and let him position them as he wanted. You felt silly and inconsequential, a thing and not a person with him seated upon you like this. Just like a king on his impromptu throne. But you were hardly in any position to complain. Even when humiliation cuts through you like a sharp razor blade, even when embarrassed heat floods your face to make you even dizzier than you already were, you still couldn’t find it in you to advocate against this treatment. 

If Geto Suguru wanted to treat you like a chair and nothing more then that was what he would do. 

If he wanted to treat you like an inanimate mastubatory aid then that was his prerogative as well. 

You were his to do with as he saw fit, and you have to make a conscious effort to stop your hands from shaking when he settles more firmly on top of you, puckered hole pressing tight against your mouth until you have no choice but to open it. He moans, very softly, at the sensation before reaching around, presumably to take his cock in hand. The eager clench of his ass tells you the exact moment he gives it a tight, savory squeeze. 

“Don’t forget to use your tongue …” 

He sounds distracted. Thoroughly preoccupied now, but you happily comply without protest as you reach out past teeth and lips to lap at him again. The responding groan is needy, perhaps even a little frazzled, and it slices through you like a hacksaw. You’ve never heard anything like that come out of him before, or anyone else for that matter. It was a heated noise that seemed otherworldly for as beautiful as it was. The kind of sound an seraph might make, if they could or would engage in an act such as this. 

Unbothered by the lack of oxygen you were getting, you dazedly poke your tongue up to dip it into the center of his hole. You were hoping, praying, to catch that sound again but all you get for your trouble is a breathy exhale that seems to waver at the tail end. That’s not nearly enough to discourage you though, and you crane your neck up to attack the center of his body with the same fervor as before, worming your way inside so you can massage along his pulsing guts. 

Suguru twitches on top of you, his breath coming a little quicker now as he slowly thrusts his hips forward and then back. You shudder at the realization that he was fucking into his fist, dragging out the strokes to elongate the pleasure of them while pointedly dragging his asshole across your mouth at the same time. It has you squirming underneath him, pitifully rubbing your thighs together in search of relief, no matter how blithe it might be, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He was intent on chasing his release now, and you struggle to keep your tongue moving when his motions start to pick up. 

Quicker now, he rocks between your mouth and his hand, letting out soft little huffs and groans while he does it. Nothing quite like that sound he’d first made but these were nice too. They were husky and hot, giving away the true extent of his arousal. You wondered if he was leaking precum all over his knuckles, or if he was using it to lubricate his palm. If he was rubbing over the glans with a blocky, callous worn thumb to stimulate the nerve endings there or if he was more focused on making his fist as tight as possible for him to fuck into. You wished you could see, that you could watch him tug himself to completion, but just getting to be this close to him while he did it seemed enough for now. 

Assuming you didn’t die here on the floor of his private chambers, smothered to death by his ass, you’d have plenty of material for your own mastubatory fantasies to last a lifetime. It was well worth the risk and the price you might potentially pay. 

“Oh, right there, love … deeper, go deeper!” 

You try your best to oblige even when the root of your tongue aches in protest, already stretched to its limit. Gasping and heaving, struggling just to keep from passing out, you forcibly wriggle it into the clenching heat of his body with everything you’ve got, determined to meet his every need. He responds in kind with a fervent thrust of his pelvis, riding your mouth with quickly growing need. You hadn’t expected him to be so affected, so caught up in the pleasure, but you carefully file it all away with what little wherewithal you still possess. It wasn’t much, hardly more than a drop of higher functioning thought left at your disposal, and yet that seemed to be all you needed. You could feel your own excitement growing in tandem with his and your body reacts to each sound, each shifting motion as if you were experiencing the same sensations as he was. 

And when his ass suddenly squeezes down on your tongue in a vice grip your pussy responds in kind, tightening to the point of discomfort. Suguru groans, just as beautifully as before, and it makes your toes curl while he faintly jerks on top of you, stiffly riding out what could only be a powerful orgasm. Elation quickly rushes in to flood your cotton stuffed head as if you’d experienced the same high of relief even as your guts clamp up, left hanging on the precipice indefinitely, but you try to tell yourself that you don’t mind it. His pleasure was your pleasure after all, and you were thankful just for that. 

Gradually, some moments later, he starts to relax on top of you and you suck in a gasping breath of air when he gingerly rocks forward to lift his ass from your face. The sense that everything was spinning around you at an alarming speed only increases as he moves to dismount and you squint against the faint light coming from the lamp in the corner. Even that was too much for your eyes after they’d adjusted to the darkness under his robe, a surprisingly apt metaphor for the malicious spell he had you under, but this too was something that didn’t bother you half as much as it probably should have. 

What does register in your mind as alarm, however, is the creamy white ropes of cum you find staining down the front of your clothes when you lift your head. It made sense, in a way. Where else was he supposed to cum if not on you? Still, you can’t quite keep the shock off your face and he titters quietly at your expression while he makes casual work of straightening out his robes again. 

“That’s quite a face you’re making. Is something wrong?” 

“No.” You practically croak. Stopping long enough to clear your throat, you try again. “No, nothings wrong, Geto-sama.” 

“Good. Now, I hope you’ll think twice before trying to stir up trouble again.” 

You visibly wither at that. “I will. I promise.” 

Drawing a stilted breath that sounds like the swing of a blade in the still air, he leans forward to brace one hand on the floor, looking at you up close. “Do you really? You know I won’t tolerate any lying.” 

“I do! I swear it!” 

The corners of his eyes wrinkle when he smiles, looking fittingly like a sly and powerful fox demon. “Good. I’d hate to have to punish you again for the same thing, but if you and that tongue of yours ever need a reminder don’t hesitate to come see me again. I’ll set you straight as many times as you need.” Then, with a sense of finality, he sits back and moves to stand. “Come. It’s just about time for dinner and I do believe your father will be joining us this evening, isn’t that right?” 

Your stomach sinks. You’d almost completely forgotten. 

No, not almost. 

You really did forget after everything that had happened today. Was it really any wonder though? It seemed like only a few short minutes had come and gone here in the secluded privacy of Suguru’s chamber but it had to have been going on over an hour now since he’d steered you through the door with a mindful hand on the small of your back. 

A shudder races through you at the reminder but you quickly shrug it off, clambering to get on your feet as well. “I’m so sorry for keeping you like this. I’ll change as quickly as I can and - -“

“Ah, ah. That’s not what I told you to do, is it?” The knowing smirk on his face grows, sharpens and slices through you like a knife. You’re wholly mortified at the way your pussy throbs in response to it, drawing attention to the fact that you were soaking into your underwear. It felt like you’d already cum at least twice, but you knew all too well that that was not the case. “If I’d wanted you to get cleaned up first I would have said that, wouldn’t I? Hm? I told you to come. You’re not going to disobey me are you?”

“No, Geto-sama, o - of course not!” 

Chuckling, he turns to make for the door. “Then let’s get a move on. I’d hate to keep your father waiting.” 

You hesitate only a brief moment, slowly glancing over yourself one last time. The threads of sticky semen splattered across your front were quickly drying but not nearly at the rate you would have liked. They were leaving behind wet, globular stains, the darkened patches in the fabric regrettably noticeable by your estimation. Maybe they wouldn’t be as obvious to other people though. Maybe they’d just assume you spilled water or some kind of oil on your clothes. Maybe no one would ask any questions. 

Not quite convinced your luck would hold out, you hurry to follow after Suguru just as any devout lamb following their shepherd should. Through heaven or hell, fire or high water, you would let him lead you to any stretch of this earth and back as many times as he saw fit, in whatever condition pleased him. Even now, even after your dehumanizing trial, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to earn his good graces and stay in them. 

Absolutely nothing.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[ray935sworld]

Please I'm so sorry for Alex like he got Marc in his team and now Gresini is Marc's team he'never be able to escape Marc's shadow😭

Don't mind me. So... On gresinis insta you can see that Marc's folder has 48 pictures and started at the end of November while Alex ones starts in August 2023 and contains currently 38 pictures.

Now to the Gresini poster which seems to have started at the end of 2023, so I don't know if they got a new admin but anyway

First off we have the one from 27.11.2023 which was the first time Marc Marquez was on a ducati, during winter the Valencia official testing:

He is the goat and they are using that. Of course they do. But still, Alex is their only currently present rider so their winter season picture is him

Then christmas came around and they focus on Nadia and them as a team, so both are shown as their bike presentations came up. Both are shown in the same pose

Now next thing was Marc's birthday. They portrait him as the joker, the badass antagonist that's known for his smile (respect at the PR dude for realizing the similarities btw)

Then a few months later... This was Alex birthday post... A teaser that he's not single anymore... Like... FOR REAL?! His brother gets compared to one of the well known, most badass villains in comic history and for him you spoil that he's not single anymore... I'll let you have your own thoughts for that one.

So Marc gets the badass villain and Alex isn't single... Okay. Great.

Then the poster for each race started.

The first one definitely decided how much they'd milk Marc for their pr.

Marc. The goat. Again. The new hope. And I don't think I have to remind you that they literally brought A REAL GOAT. A REAL ANIMAL. TO SHOW THAT THEY HAVE THE GOAT NOW.

So here are all poster that only include Marc:

(but the 93 times was in honor of his 93th pole so that migh not count)

Those are the Alex solo posters where one is his contract annoucement and the other one was ahead of the european elections...

So while Marc got 5 cool poster based on epic movies, he got 2 that made to be are funny and aren't even race week related.

And those are the ones were both are included

And the one were none of them was the focus

Furthermore I'd like to point those sgnificant PR-moments out. In Gresini's 1000th GP, Marc was the one holding the flag on the podium. And the team made him a P4 trophy which was honestly adorable, but I don't think Alex ever got one.

Another thing are his dances. Gresini even pulled a competition who could do it best to win GP tickets

And while I haven't counted the posts, I'd say one look on Insta is enough to see that Marc is their current PR face. Most posts are about him.

And that's okay.

Marc is an 8 times world champion. He is the one everyone is watching and talking about. He is the cente rof attention and as team, Gresini is selling him as excactly that. So they post about him and pull the focus on him.

Sure he is also the one bringing in the results. He is the on the podium and getting the points, while my favorite 2 times world champion has so far only 1. And as much as I love Alex, he just isn't as sellable as Marc

Which leads to a very intresting question...

How will Ducati corsa, which is currently only using Pecco, their golden world champion boy, deal with him? On one side you have an at least 3 times champion, maybe even 4 times and potentially the current one. But you also have Marc Marquez who has one of the largest fanbases with an "where you go, I go" mentality. And after all, the PR people, CEOs and however they are called, they only want to sell their bikes and merch and make money.

So... who will be the focus?

And what if Marc wins the 2025 title? What about Pecco in 2026 or afterwards? How long can a team based on them actually keep going?