#do they judge each other? they cannot

[carrinth]

Art prompt: Fox and/or Thorn having a well-deserved nap.

Fox and Thorn run into each other on their respective way to nap time.

[astranauticus]

ok i like rushed through the whole orv webtoon way too fast so now i have thoughts going in like 5 different directions but ep121-123 drive me so fucking insane actually. every time i think about those two conversations i have to sit down

[awordwasthebeginning]

.

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Losing Dogs

Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.

Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.

As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.

He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.

You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.

Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing in the chamber.

The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.

He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.

The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.

He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.

He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!

"I managed a cup."

Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.

He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."

Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.

Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"

You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."

His eye twitches.

I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.

Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.

He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?

You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.

He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.

"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"

Again, his eye twitches.

And then he realizes what you mean.

Ah. So, this is what you wanted?

He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.

He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.

When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.

You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."

He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."

With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"

You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."

He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.

You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.

Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.

"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"

His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.

"-and I will grant you all your wishes."

Aegon ticks.

The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.

You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.

Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.

In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.

You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.

You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.

You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.

Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."

His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.

Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.

In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.

And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.

He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.

You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.

He fucking goes to sleep.

You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.

The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.

It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.

Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.

So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."

You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"

Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?

You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."

He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"

You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."

He doesn't trust your smile.

"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."

"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"

You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."

Aegon pulls his hand away.

Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.

Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.

He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.

He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.

He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.

You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.

But then he found your flaw.

Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.

It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?

"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.

Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.

"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"

Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."

She strikes his cheek.

Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.

"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."

Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.

He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.

He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.

This was all Aegon's doing.

His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.

Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.

"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.

Aegon looks back.

You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."

Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.

"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"

You don't respond.

Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.

"We could jump together."

"What?"

Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."

Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.

He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?

"I am," you mutter.

Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.

"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."

Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"

You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."

Aegon does not respond.

"I can sing though."

His brow raises, "how can you sing?"

"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."

He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"No."

"..."

"..."

"Would you like me to hold you?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.

You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.

Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.

Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.

Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.

Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.

When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?

And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.

He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.

He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.

He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.

Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.

Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him. He wishes to pull you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.

He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.

He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.

He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.

"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.

You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."

He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."

Your expression drops, "what?"

He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.

He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"

"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.

"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.

He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.

"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."

Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."

You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."

He kisses you back.

He is blindsided by how his wishes came to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.

He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"

"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.

Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.

He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his spawn at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.

He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.

"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."

Your face falls.

Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.

"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.

He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."

You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."

When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.

Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.

He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.

He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.

Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.

"Husband," you curtsey.

Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.

You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."

Aegon looks at you.

"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."

His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.

"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."

His eyes widen.

"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."

Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.

He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."

Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.

His eyes are glassy. You pull away before he can kiss you back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."

His heart thumps as you walk away.

Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.

He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.

"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.

Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.

"Aegon-"

"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"

You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.

He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.

"Aegon," you mutter.

"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."

"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."

His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.

"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.

He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"

Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"

"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."

The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.

Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.

The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.

He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.

You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.

Aegon turns to you.

You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."

Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.

When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.

He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.

"Aegon-"

"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."

You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.

"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."

Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.

"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."

"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.

Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."

You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.

"I love you," he confesses.

"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."

"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."

His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."

Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."

"But I do hate this life I live."

He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.

"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."

"I made you miserable."

You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.

"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."

Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.

"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."

Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."

You sob and turn to your feet.

"Please... believe me."

You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."

You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.

A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.

He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."

You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."

"It was a long time coming."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."

He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."

You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."

Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.

You take a step back.

"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."

"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."

Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.

You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."

He knits his brows, "I'm looking."

"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."

Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.

He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"

Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.

Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.

Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.

Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?

When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.

Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"

"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."

"An accident?!"

Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

[transandrobroism]

notes/replies on that last post (about Florida moving to ban all HRT for adults) suggest it was struck down by a judge, which is a relief obviously. but i do wanna pick up on the response being "set up DIY networks for HRT! organise and help each other!" which is cool and all but... as the latest reblog comment points out, T is a controlled drug.

some quick and dirty googling confirms testosterone is a Schedule III controlled drug in the USA, with most legal sources suggesting possession and/or distribution of Schedule III drugs is a 3rd degree felony. conviction can mean up to five years in prison and a $5,000 fine. crucially, in Florida (where this law was intended to come into force), selling or distributing a Schedule III drug to minors pushes it up to a 2nd degree felony with a harsher fine/sentence.

i make this point because the response to HRT being restricted is often some variation of "mutual aid DIY network" or just flat suggesting DIY to people as the solution. which is cool if you're on estrogen, but possessing testosterone without a prescription is a literal felony in the USA. T is also a controlled drug in the UK, where trans people face long waiting lists for HRT - it's not illegal to possess T for personal use, but it is illegal to get them sent to you from abroad (importing a controlled drug) and to give them to other people (supply). to legally get T you need a prescription from a doctor.

in a hostile transphobic environment there is no guarantee that prosecuters will decide not to charge trans people for DIYing HRT. "set up DIY networks" for transmascs basically translates to "set up an illegal drug ring".

this is a form of transphobia that affects transmascs but does not affect transfems. it also affects nonbinary and intersex folks seeking or using testosterone HRT. in fact it could potentially impact some nonbinary trans folks worse because the medical gatekeeping around trying to transition as nonbinary is already an uphill struggle.

it is not easy for those of us on T to just DIY it and fuck the system. without a valid prescription our HRT becomes a banned illegal steroid that can land us in serious legal trouble if we get caught, especially if we're distributing it to other people as part of a mutual aid setup. i know we're all very "be gay do crime" for the memes but we are talking about an actual factual go-to-jail-irl crime here.

the fact that our HRT is an illegal drug unless prescribed by a doctor is a form of transandrophobia that affects trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people on masculinising HRT, and intersex people who want or need testosterone. it means that:

we cannot DIY transition without committing a crime, and have to weigh up that risk when considering DIY as an option

setting up a mutual aid testosterone DIY network is even more of a crime, especially if you want to use it to help trans teens

we are thus more dependent on placating medical practitioners and convincing them to prescribe us HRT

we will always be more impacted by any moves to restrict or delay access to HRT because we don't have an easy, legal DIY option

when access to HRT is limited for transphobic reasons, the DIY option comes at much higher risk

where access to HRT is severely delayed (as it is in the UK by years-long waiting lists), it is easier for transfems to start DIYing while they wait than it is for transmascs to do the same thing. in fact in the UK they've started selling estrogen HRT over the counter for menopause, so here if you want to start estrogen DIY all you have to do is get a cis lady friend to ask a pharmacist for menopause treatments. if you wanna start T you have to go on the fucking dark web (I'm exaggerating but... not a lot)

none of this is intended to suggest that transfems don't experience medical transphobia or gatekeeping and this isn't a "trans men have it worse universally across the board" post. there are undoubtedly some areas where it's harder to be transfem. however, this is one area where it is clearly and demonstrably harder to be a trans man. i am pointing this out because i keep seeing people saying that transmascs have it easier or there's no systemic or structural transphobia targeting trans men or we only ever experience misdirected misogyny or whatever. here is your proof that that is not true. this is a form of structural and systemic transphobia that impacts trans men and not trans women. and there is no possible world in which you can argue that testosterone being a controlled drug is somehow misogyny.

[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[paigesfuturewifey]

authors note! this is my first fic on here and i’m scared cause some of yall writers are SO GOOD ITS INTIMIDATING don’t judge too harshly ill get better i promise also this is short SORRY

“fuck!” you groaned loudly, dribbling the ball once more before bouncing it over to the ref.

this was your second foul of the night, and you were starting to think these refs were good for nothing.

the sound of paige bueckers clapping her hands obnoxiously loud only further heightened your frustration, taking the hem of your jersey and wiping your mouth.

“can’t keep up?” paige brushed her front up against your back as one of her teammates went to take the out-of-bounds ball.

you laughed dryly and turned to her, gesturing up. “look at the scoreboard, bueckers. you’re down by six.” you held your arms up, trying to create a barrier between paige and aaliyah but ended up grunting when paige got the ball, taking a step back and letting the ball fly.

“three.” she corrected the score with a smirk as she ran backwards to get back on defense. you huffed, getting the ball from your teammate and dribbling it down the court.

you looked the court over once, wetting your lips as you visualized the play you wanted to run in your head, the corner of your lips lifting.

paige makes sure to stay in front of you, but you took a jab step, as if she were going to drive forward, but mimicking paige earlier, you took a step back and let the ball fly.

paige jumped up, reaching up to try and block it but it was already gone and swishing through the net, making the crowd erupt in cheers. “can’t keep up?” you re-quoted her, holding up a three in the air as you jogged back to the other side of the court.

this is how the rest of the game remained, the two of you exchanging baskets and throwing insults at each other that only fueled the other more and more. and the fans absolutely ate it up.

somehow, somewhere along the lines, uconn ended up being up by a point with less than a minute left in the fourth, and that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

the timeout was called by Geno, and you made your way over to your teammates.

“bueckers, they’ve been letting l/n handle the ball all game. i need you to start playing hard man-to-man defense on her. we cannot afford to lose this lead, got it?”

“yeah, i gotchu.” paige nodded, squeezing the gatorade bottle into her mouth.

the two teams made their way back onto the court, and like you expected, paige was on your ass like she had been all game.

she was guarding you closely to the point where you could feel her abs press into your arm through her jersey. ignoring the heat that shot through you, this made you smile in amusement, looking over at how close she was in proximity to you.

you pressed your shoulder against her, trying to create space between you two, “nervous?” paige had the audacity to ask, earning a scoff from you.

“i don’t see anything to be nervous over.” you glanced her up and down, waiting for the ref to give your teammate the ball to throw in. “maybe,” you turned your entire body to her, “if you were nika muhl..” you could see how your words caused her to tense slightly, “or azzi fudd,” you whispered, leaning slightly forward to speak in her ear, “or kk arnold.”

paige’s jaw clenched, shaking her head. she couldn’t help the humorless laugh that escaped her lips, giving you credit where it was due. you were playing mind games, and you had her right where you wanted her. “fuck outta here and fuck you.” she muttered lowly.

you smiled sadistically, “do it yourself, bueckers.” you responded in the same low tone, and you watched as paige’s eyes darkened visually.

you smirked.

in the next millisecond, you were passed the ball, and it took paige two seconds slower than it normally would have for her to react. those two seconds was all you needed to dribble the ball down the court, passing it to your teammate who was open at the corner of the court. she let it fly, scoring the three just in time for the buzzer to loudly ring throughout the entire arena.

cheers roared throughout the crowd and you went to celebrate the win with your teammates, exchanging a hug with a few of the members of uconn.

you walked down the line as you high-fived the uconn team, though you noticed paige lingering around a little long. you narrowed your eyes, arching a brow when she spotted you.

when you guys got to each other, she held your hand in place, pulling you slightly away from everyone. “here’s what’s gonna happen next, you listening?” she looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

all you could do was nod meekly. she nodded at your nod, licking her lips before she leaned into your ear like you’d done earlier. “the next time i see you, it’s gonna be in my hotel room, and you better hope your ready for me, l/n.”

[mortalmab]

Merlin puts up a sheet in the armory where all the knights can see. It’s their names in brackets like a tourney list. They were not aware there was a tourney coming up? What is this?

They notice Merlin observing them and making some notations. Not just during practice but all day. When he sees them around the castle, when they are relaxing at the Rising Sun, everywhere. It’s getting unnerving.

After a few days, some of them have moved up in the lists and some have not. And they have no idea why. Sir Ban seems to have bested Sir Agravaine (though let’s be honest, most of them would say they weren’t surprised). Sir Gareth won against Sir Kay and would now be facing off against Sir Devore who had won against Sir Mellion.

Now the knights are on their best behavior whenever Merlin is around. They still aren’t sure what they are being judged on, but damn if they aren’t going to WIN!

The next time the brackets go up, more knights are knocked out of the running for…whatever the criteria are.

The knights are now doing their absolute best on the practice fields. King Arthur commends each of them for their form - on point like he has never seen. Some kind of fire has been lit under them and he doesn’t know why but he likes it!

The next brackets go up and still they are no closer to figuring out why the winners are winning. You would think they would be insufferable about it - like any tournament - but since they don’t know why they were winning, they can’t be sure they are doing the right thing to win next time.

The knights of Camelot are suddenly the most chivalrous, most well behaved, most dedicated to their craft in all of Albion. The people are amazed at their sudden kindness and generosity. Meanwhile each of them grow more and more paranoid as the brackets keep going up.

Quests! Maybe it was quests? The knights start going out on quests and the word fame of Camelot spreads.

Arthur cannot figure out what has come over them all.

Arthur: Merlin, have the knights seemed…different to you?

Merlin: oh, you mean since I put up the lists?

Arthur:…what lists?

Merlin: the lists where they think they are competing with each other.

Arthur: competing for what?

Merlin: I have no idea what they think they are competing for but they sure are working hard to win it!

Arthur: and how exactly are you determining these “winners?”

Merlin: oh I’m just flipping a coin. They don’t know that though and they are all being extra nice to me😁

Arthur: so this was all…

Merlin: for shits and giggles, yeah

[havoc-7]

The more that I think about the early episodes of TBB S3, the funnier they get to me. Like

First we have Crosshair, who is really getting to know Omega for the first time. His only real interactions with her in the past have involved his brothers being EXTRA protective of her, so in his head Omega is probably just this poor, scared, naive little kid. And then one day she just pulls up to his prison cell and is like “what’s up, loser, we’re getting out of here” and then proceeds to sneak him out of a high security government lab under the nose of the emperor himself (she knows our battle plans?? Of course she knows all of our battle plans, that’s a normal thing to teach a 12 year old…) Not to mention the fact that Omega gambled in a bar and won more credits than either of them had probably ever seen in their lives, so that they could bribe the space TSA into getting them off world (WHY does the kid know how to gamble). Not that Crosshair is in any position to judge someone’s parenting, but he has QUESTIONS.

Omega, meanwhile, is for the first time getting the full Crosshair Experience, complete with every bit of sarcasm, snark, and sass that the man has been bottling up on Tantiss, and she is not having it. No, Crosshair, I don’t really know how to fly this shuttle, why don’t you quit your backseat flying and get your butt up here and do this yourself? No, Crosshair, we cannot open fire on civilians in an airport, I thought that was just an inhibitor chip thing for you. No, Crosshair, we are NOT LEAVING OUR MAN-EATING HOUND ALONE AND UNSUPERVISED ON A RESIDENTIAL PLANET.

And then you have Hunter, who hasn’t been thinking clearly for five months and who probably is living off a diet of spiked lemonade and sour patch kids (to match the bitterness inside him), who went from thinking “oh yeah we’re gonna settle down on Space Greece” to “Wrecker, that one crime syndicate called us back, if we murder this one guy for them then they MIGHT give us some info on Omega, wheels up in 10”

And poor Wrecker finds himself as The Responsible Adult for the first time in his life, which is incredibly confusing and a little bit scary and Hunter, you are TOO CLOSE to the edge of that cliff!! He’s never really believed in vegetables before but Echo says they’re good for you so he spends every moment that he’s not trying to keep Hunter from starting a second interplanetary war over the disappearance of his kid attempting to convince Hunter to try an apple or something.

And then it all culminates in this very tense, dramatic moment where they’re all staring at each other and Omega is like “yay now we can all get therapy!” and Wrecker is like “Echo come back I can’t do this on my own anymore” and Hunter is like “you can’t commit fratricide in front of the kid, you can’t commit fratricide in front of the kid” and Crosshair is like “TAKE YOUR SCARY CHILD BACK” and if that’s not peak Bad Batch then I don’t know what is

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A fun question your opinion: In each arc, what do you think is the theme of each arc? ( It can be a motif, messages, subject)

These are a mix of jokes and serious thoughts ^^ just to avoid the post from being too heavy overall!

The Rose-Red Tyrant:

Breaking free from perpetuating a cycle of abuse

You are your own person, not a puppet controlled by your parent/guardian

At the same time, you have to take accountability for your own actions (your background can explain your poor behavior toward others but it does not excuse that behavior)

Control that is too constrictive will only push away potential connections and experiences, keeping you isolated and complacent

Anger management classes are good for you, guys

The Usurper from the Wilds:

Let’s play fairly and be good sports!

Judging people for their merits rather than by titles or birth

What makes someone worthy to lead is noble behavior and attiude

Standing up for what’s morally right, even if everyone else seems to be against you

You have value, worth, and hope in spite of what others may tell you and put you down for

It’s totally okay to get revenge on the asshole that tripped you that one time/j

It’s technically not a crime if you don’t get caught (except Leona did, in fact, get caught)

The Merchant from the Depths:

Don’t be ashamed of your past self—embrace it, accept it, and use it as a point of reference for self growth

Be the bigger person rather than becoming a bully yourself

Let your accomplishments speak for themselves

There is no “easy way out” or shortcut; be prepared to face the consequences of your actions

Not everything is as it may seem (think about the “trick” with Azul’s contracts)

… Read the terms and conditions very carefully and think things over before you sign a contract 💀

Schemer of the Scalding Sands:

Wow, this baby can fit so much generational trauma!!

Sometimes you just miss each other’s messages or greatly misinterpret the other’s intentions (Kalim giving Jamil the benefit of the doubt, Jamil obviously being the Bad Guy and everyone else has to point that out to Kalim)

There’s a very complicated relationship between those in power and those without power; this can breed hatred for those at the top

Talent and skill left unacknowledged can fester into resentment

Institutions of higher education can and will accept monetary bribes, what are you gonna do about it?

Not everyone wants to reconcile and make friends; this is okay and should be more normalized

A Beautiful Tyrant:

You can try your best and work hard, but life doesn’t owe you anything (depressing thought, but unfortunately true)

Beauty is not limited to just one’s looks; beauty can also extend to one’s character and actions

Your worth shouldn’t come from external forces; if you are satisfied with yourself, you will always be “beautiful” no matter how you look or what losses you may experience

Public opinion and the entertainment industry are brutal af

Screw gender norms 😤

The Watchman of the Underworld:

The grieving process in general

Moving on from the past instead of fixating on it and letting the past consume your present and hold you back from a future

Learning to forgive yourself

Reaching out and making new support systems/opening up to others to help you cope

Bearing the sins of your ancestors (Shroud family curse)

The Lord of Malevolence:

Change is inevitable, all good things must come to an end; we must learn to accept them and bravely move toward the future

Love endures, transcending race (Sebek), blood (Silver), and time (Lilia)

Self-sacrificial love (Maleanor for Malleus, Lilia for the other Diasomnia boys, Dawn Knight for his own family, etc.)

Is it “true” happiness if it is a fake reality, a convenient dream?

We hate and fear what we do not understand, even though we have the capacity to

You cannot live forever in a happy fantasy world where none of your loved ones/favorite characters leave you, your trauma doesn’t exist, and everything conveniently pans out how you want it to; sooner or later, you must “wake up” and face reality (this point is particularly meta; it applies both in-game and in the real world, speaking to us players and our relationship with the escapist fictional content we consume)

Prologue: Welcome to the Villains’ World and Overall Main Story:

The power of friendship :))

Revisionist history (cuz… y’know… Great Seven and all)

We’re stronger together than alone

It’s okay to rely on others

We may be very different people from very different backgrounds, but it is still possible for us to understand one another

[ileftmysoulinnorway]

The Vampire Laws (according to the Children of Darkness).

Total of one hundred.

Written in Latin. The main coven was based in Rome, and Armand was sent from there to Paris. Is Latin his third language? ("French my fourth and poorest language").

They largely use the term "lamiae" for vampires (which makes sense given the part of the world), but not always.

The Five Great Laws

1. Quisque suum thalamum debet habere ducem e ... ponat ... doli.

(my translation) Each coven (literally „inner room“) must have its leader ... order ... Trick.

(used in the show) Each coven must have its leader and only he might order the working of the Dark Trick upon a mortal.

2. Dona tenebrosa numquam debilesdebile.. ... er.. aut iis qui necum potestatibus quidem obscuris suis vivere possunt debent.

The Dark Gifts must never be given to the weak ... or to those who cannot (in fact) live with their dark powers.

The Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled, the maimed or to children.

3. Nullus lamia vampiris debet scribere historiam lamiae vel quamlibet veram cognitionem lamiorum netalis historia inveniatura mortalibus et credatur.

No vampire should commit to writing the history of the vampires, or any true knowledge of vampires, lest such a story be discovered and believed by mortals.

No vampire must commit to writing the history of the vampires.

4. Nemo lamia suamveram naturammortalibus unquam patefaciet et mortale vivat.

No vampire will ever reveal his true nature to mortals and lives as a mortal.

No vampire shall ever reveal his or her true nature to a mortal and let the mortal live.

5. Nullus lamia potestalium lamia destruere nisi quod dominus copuluspotestatemhabetvitae et necis super totum gregem suum.

No vampire can destroy another vampire except for the coven master who holds the power of life and death over his whole flock.

No vampire may ever destroy another vampire except that the coven master has the power of life and death over all his flock.

Other laws that are at least a little bit readable:

51. Lamia semper ad sep... re...bit vel uni simillimum.

A vampire is always ... or very similar to one.

52. Lamia non cognoscet gaudium.

A vampire will not know joy.

53. Non cognoscet lamia felicitatem.

A vampire will not know happiness.

54. Leges magnae lamiae ...olasse iudicatus exs... ... morte punietur.

The laws of the great vampire* ... judged ... will be punished by death.

*or more likely the great laws of the vampires.

55. Lamia(e) exilia punienda ...buntur in terra tumulanda.

Exiled vampires to be punished ... buried in the ground.

56. Lamia non ambulabit in locis lucis.

A vampire will not walk in places of light.

57. Vampires praedam e consortio rapient ...s profuxis[?] et vagi.

Vampires will snatch prey from the group  ... runaways and vagrants.

58. Lamia nunquam cognoscet delicias vitae vanitates saeculi.

A vampire will never know the pleasures of life and the vanities of the world/age.

59. Lamia non requiret solatium foci[?].

A vampire will not require the comfort of a family.

60. Vampires nunquam carnalem delectationem cum mortalibus requirent.

Vampires will never seek carnal pleasure with mortals.

61. Vampires nunquam mortalium consortia quaerunt.

Vampires never seek the company of mortals.

62. Vivere inter homines ....nt labentibus annis lamia ad insaniam.

To live among humans .... the passing years ... a vampire to madness.

63. Vivere inter homines alios videre senescere ac mori sicut lamia nunquam sequila[?] lamia ad insaniam impellet.

To live among humans and see others grow old and die, like vampires would never, will drive vampires to insanity.

64. Lamia non ....patem quaerunt.

A vampire not ... seek.

65. Vampires in choro[?] delectationem non reg...rent.

Vampires do not ... delight in dance.

66. Vampires in musica non quaerunt ....tem.

Vampires do not seek .... in music.

67. Lamia(e) non[?] actibus[?] delectationem quaerunt,

Vampires do not seek pleasure in perfomances.

68. Vampires litterae** voluptatem non requirent.

Vampires do not seek pleasure in books.

**thank you lilium-in-blue

69. Vampires magicae non ....ionem requirent.

Vampires do not seek .... magic.

81. Factor amittit fac....diendi f.lli sui cogitationes ..c ...tium est donum obscurae largi...

The maker loses .... his thoughts ... is Dark Gift ...

82. Lamia in alias formas inc..sa europaea mutare poterit sed numquam in ...rundom africanum vertere poteris.

A vampire in other forms ... European ... will be able to change but never in ... African ... will be able to turn.***

*** I have no idea what this means. Words are missing and the whole sentence can have a completely different meaning than what it looks like now. My first thought was that it was some kind of reference to Akasha and Enkil. Please don't jump to conclusions.

83. Veri filii dei potestatibus eam ...per fidem resistere possunt s.... ....e sunt creaturae infidelis damnatorum.

True children of God .... powers ... can resist faith ... are the creatures ... damned unfaithful.

84. Lamia corpora aquae salsae in aestus maximo et infimo .a.tum transibunt.

A vampire will cross bodies of salt water ... at high and low tides.

85. Ut tempus mortale depopulatur corpus lamia depopulabitur tempus ut anni decennia vertuntur in saecula millennii corpus petrificat et lamia volvitur in saxum.

As time destroys the mortal body, so the vampire will be destroyed over time, as the decades turn into the centuries of the millennium, the body petrifies and the vampire turns to stone.

86. Vampires victimas non relinquent ubi a mortalibus cognosci possint nisi tales dolores fuerint ut mors non sit causa praeternaturalia.

Vampires will not leave their victims where they can be recognized by mortals unless they are wounded in such a way that their death does not seem supernatural.

87. Lamia vera loquetur scobe[?] domino.

The vampire will speak the truth ... to the master.

88. Lamia domino suo asse obediet eique exhibebit quantum tale officium postulat.

A vampire will obey his master and will give him as much as such a duty demands.

89. Lamia ad omnes casus paretur.

A vampire is prepared for everything.

90. Lamia paratus ad immolandum se ad bonum testudinis.

A vampire is willing to sacrifice himself/herself for the good of the coven.

91. Paratus lamia paratus erit suum testudinum et dominum suum ab omnibusiminis externis et domesticis defendere.

A prepared vampire will be ready to defend his/her coven and his/her master from external and internal threats.

92. Super omnia custodiatte.

Above all, be vigilant.

93. Nullam lamia eg... posuere eget t.n.idunt quam.

No vampire ... needs to put ...

94. Si lamia in...niret socium lamia fractam testudinis regulas tali de..sta domino cousco referentur.

If a vampire ... vampire breaks the rules of the coven, such ... they will be reported to the coven master.

95. Defectum de .ae...is membris certi... facere faciet ..os criminum facitos[?] lamia ac s ... .a... miserit.

The failure of ... members ... will make ... crimes ... vampire ... will be killed/released.

96. Ignorantia testament.. regulae non erit acceptabile defensionem contra regulas praevaricationis.

Ignorance ... of the rules will not be an acceptable defense against breaking the rules.

97. Admissa in cr..am un ... via exeundi ...

Admitted ... way ... avoid ...

98. Pactum lamia s... et pacem[?] praesedit.

A vampire pact ... and presides over peace.

TL;DR: Very cult-like rules, calling for restraint, moderation, obedience. Lots of little callbacks.

Let me know if you spot any mistakes or can add anything. I'm used to translating from Latin, but not into English. Latin is a bit tricky, mainly because of the crazy word order.

[nadvs]

omg what if basketball!rafe takes reader out to dinner after a game or something, from sleeping with the enemy’s pleaseee

AHH SO CUTE YES OFC 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic

they keep hooking up after their first night together and rafe is in shock over how good the sex is and how much he enjoys her company. he’s a ‘hit it and quit it’ type of guy but he cannot get enough of her to the point where he can hardly wait for games against her college’s team because it’s a promise that he’ll see her.

one night a few weeks after they start being friends with benefits, his team suffers a loss by a few points against their worst rivals. he’s seething. the result of a game has a crazy effect on him. it always does.

he finds her courtside and while everyone around her is celebrating, she goes still once she notices him approaching her.

“close game,” she says, tilting her head while she looks up at him. at this point, she knows well enough how hard losses hit him.

eyes are on them. she can feel people judging how close she’s gotten to her side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete, but she doesn’t care.

rafe can tell she’s trying to make him feel better. underneath their usual harsh sarcasm and jokey insults, they’re two people who have a friendship built on sincere compatibility.

“your refs should be fired,” he mutters, pissed at how many calls against his opponents were missed. he’s sweaty and breathless from the game, his chest rising and falling at full tilt.

“oh, i’ll personally see to it,” she jokes. he scoffs, hating that he can’t stifle his smile.

“be ready in an hour,” rafe tells her. “i’ll pick you up from your dorm.”

“for what?”

“dinner,” he says assertively.

before he leaves, he pulls her in for a kiss. it’s a bonus that her ex sees. when she told him she wasn’t interested in max anymore, rafe couldn’t believe how relieved he was. he may have lost the game, but he won the girl.

rafe typically lays into his teammates after a bad loss. he’s a harsh captain but the guys respect him for it. but that night, he’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room. he’d never admit it to anyone, but knowing he’ll see her after this makes his anger lose its power.

she’s surprised that the restaurant he picked is as elegant as it is. she knows he came from money, but this place is nice. as they settle across from each other in a booth, she’s glad she dressed up.

“i didn’t say this,” she says, looking down at her menu, “but you’re right. the refs missed a lot of travelling on our side.”

“what?” rafe says, amused. “whatever happened to loyalty?”

“i told you i didn’t say anything,” she reiterates.

he taps his knuckles on the tabletop lightly, studying her.

“you don’t have to bullshit me,” he tells her.

“rafe,” she says seriously. “when do we ever bullshit each other?”

he meets her gaze, taking in how pretty she looks tonight. they’re just friends but on the outside, this looks like a date. he doesn’t mind.

“and you need to chill with the pushing,” she tells him. “you almost got fouled out.”

“did i?” he says with a laugh. he knows he did. he finds quite a lot of sick satisfaction in shoving his opponents.

“shut up,” she chuckles. “you won’t be laughing when you get benched.”

“don’t want that,” rafe mumbles. “who will you stare at then?”

“you stare at me,” she replies. “you said it yourself the first night we hooked up.”

“why are you thinking about hooking up right now?” he says, looking around the room. “this is a classy place.”

“you’re annoying as hell,” she laughs. “and for that, i’m ordering the most expensive thing. unless you’re not paying?”

“i’m paying,” he confirms. he doesn’t even want to joke about that. “and i’m coming over after.”

“depends on how this date goes,” she quips, looking back down at the menu.

rafe loves how laidback she is. how she can call it a date, but not expect him to be her boyfriend. it’s so easy with her. no expectations. just fun.

he never felt this good this fast after a loss. he doesn’t ever feel this relaxed with anyone. she may just be his best friend at this point.

she looks up, noticing his eyes on her.

“staring again?” she teases.

just a few seconds ago, she asked when they bullshit each other. they never do. he’d like to stick to that.

“yeah. you look good,” he tells her.

her skin flushes hot. she eyes him, the way the dim lighting washes over the planes of his face, the way he put an effort in tonight, dressing in a button-down instead of the usual t-shirt and sweats he wears whenever they meet for a booty call.

“at the risk of stroking your ego, so do you,” she replies.

“what else d’you wanna stroke?”

“jesus christ,” she laughs, nudging his knee under the table. he smirks.

whatever tense feelings were left over from tonight’s loss are gone now. he’s good. happy, even.

[she-is-ovarit]

The intersection of male supremacy and white supremacy: Sperm donation corruption and rape by deception of women.

Jonathan Jacob Meijer.

(There is a Netflix documentary: Man with 1000 kids)

Several women went to this Norwegian man seeking a sperm donor. He had great hair. He had great teeth. He traveled and made Youtube blogs of everywhere he went, to all of these different countries. These women went through a private website as opposed to a clinic. He told these women that his intentions were to donate to a maximum of five families.

As they began getting pregnant and giving birth, some bumped into each other. And what a funny coincidence it was that they happened to share the same donor. And then more met and knew of each other. And some realized that their kids were in the same day camp together, and what were the odds of that?

And as it turns out, this man was operating under several different aliases and traveling internationally, donating to 11 different sperm banks under different names, providing sperm privately for women on the side. And he didn't just donate to five women, he donated to hundreds of women, many of whom connected with each other over social media and formed an online group where all were concerned with what he was doing. And this resulted in thousands of children directly related to this man internationally.

And he didn't just use his sperm, but would also meet up with his bald scarred friend and mix their sperm together in the sample bottle, so many of these women non-consensually conceived children with a man they had never even heard of without realizing it. And him and his buddy and other serial donors would "joke" that they were spreading their "white seed" when they would travel to places like Hong Kong and Kenya.

When he was finally tried in court he stated that if there was concern about incest, the children can all simply wear and use a social media symbol that brands them as his so they can recognize each other. And a female judge (who's name I cannot seem to find online) in a Dutch court, sentenced him to 100,000 euro fine for every time he donated if he was ever found donating again and required him to contact the donor banks and request his material be destroyed.

Donald Cline

(Also a Netflix documentary on this: Our Father)

A fertility (gynecology and obstetrics) doctor in the 1980s who welcomed women into his clinic before cryogenic freezing of sperm was a thing and it was freshly inseminated through a procedure. He let the women know that he was using the sperm of medical students and that there would be no more than three times sperm from the same student would be used. Some women, who weren't able to conceive with their husband for one reason or another, also came into the clinic wanting to use their own husband's sperm.

Years later a woman who grew up knowing that part of her DNA was from a sperm donor began wanting to connect with her potential siblings on 23&Me. She was shocked to discover at least 10 siblings she was related to. She got in touch with them.

It turns out that Dr. Cline proceeded to use his own sperm on the female patients, hiding somewhere in the clinic to produce it immediately before using it to inseminate unsuspecting women. This man covertly reproductively exploited several women and "fathered" 94 children. Whenever the children would try to meet with him, he would show up intentionally carrying a gun to intimidate them.

One of his biological daughters, who didn't realize Cline was her biological father until adulthood, even had him as her own gynecologist. He performed pap smears and breast exams on her. He knew that she was his biological offspring and she did not have the knowledge and therefore the option to decline being sexually examined by her biological father.

Dr. Cline was also tried in court by the victims; however, the judge was sympathetic to him.

____________________________________________________________

This form of sociopathy not only majorly creates significant consequences to the gene pool for our human species as these half siblings are at higher risk of incest, but the psychological harm done to the mothers and the children are horrific. Some of these (now adult) children have described an entire undoing of their self-identity, and many struggled in processing that the men who may have raised them was not their biological father. Some of these mothers are teaching their children to always ask whoever they date if they were ever conceived by a donor. These mothers now wrestle with conflicting emotions - the fact that they were betrayed, taken advantage of, and used to fulfill a man's god-complex, while also finally having a child or children that they love with all of their hearts who were a result of a violating situation.

These two men share two other things in common: they have both argued that they were "helping" these women. That these women came to them in need and that they were engaging in philanthropy and giving them what these women wanted. That they should be grateful.

And that they were interested in contributing to the white race. In addition to Meijer's comments in "spreading white seed", Jacoba, one of the child victims of fertility fraud/the reproductive rape of her mother by Donald Cline, described how he was using her mother as a pawn repeatedly to fulfill religious, male supremacist, and white supremacist ideals to spread the white race.

Now, look:

Presently there are little to no regulations or legal enforcement in preventing men from committing fertility fraud/this form of sexual violation and reproductive exploitation of women. There are little to no consequence for men substantially altering the genetic pool and using women as chattel and children as genetic products. In fact, Meijer was the first case in which a judge placed restrictions on male reproductive autonomy as a consequence for causing sexual, psychological, and evolutionary harm.

[heavenbarnes]

okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.

at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.

i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)

the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.

he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.

when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.

“pardon?”

“i had a family”

you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.

sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-

i had a family

had.

oh.

your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.

judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.

you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.

“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”

had.

oh god.

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.

you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.

“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”

the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.

had.

why is every thing in the past tense?

probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?

the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.

instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.

the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.

the tears break through of their own accord.

and he still won’t look at you.

“oh, simon”

your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.

first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.

(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)

second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.

that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.

and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.

but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.

you don’t care.

you love him.

third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.

the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.

the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.

the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.

the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.

and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.

grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.

it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.

you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.

as if you weren’t already.

you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.

it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.

reminding you that he was there.

that he loved you.

that he needed you.

just as much as you needed him.

and god, did he need to be needed.

did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)

did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)

did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)

did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.

like you were doing for him now.

“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”

you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.

not that you mind.

not that you ever mind.

[deepmochi]

Astrology notes: synastry edition 🪐💋

Read here ⚠️

Note: take what resonates. This may not apply to everyone if these notes don't resonate, just scroll. This post applies to romantic and platonic relationships.

🦋 Moon conjuct sun make people see what the other person has in themselves. Both understand the other but also judge them.

🪼 Venus in the 12th house has a veil under them. This in a synastry give "dating vibes" even for platonic friends/ relationships. For romantic ones, gives, they are secretly dating vibes "friends with benefits".

🦋 Mercury and Sun aspects in the same signs make them a very competitive couple lowkey. The sun has masculine energy that the mercurian finds "interesting" or useful.

🪼 North nodes- sun people aspects aren't for long term relationships. The north node person signifies someone who comes and goes; they don't stay too long. This is perfect for "people come and people go" D.O's line in love shot.

🪼 Asc-Venus aspects in synastry always like to compliment the other apperance. They appreciate those "that skirt looks good on you" comments. They got a self-esteem boost and a reminder that the person cares for them.

🪼 Men with their sun sign in your 1st house are perceived by you as hot. This could lead to a night stand or intense chemistry.

🧊 Venus opposition Venus gives very subtle vibes to each other like. There's is always one who is more oblivious to the other. If other aspects interfere, mind games are possible.

🪼 The same element in a placement produces a very similar reaction. You may feel very drawn to that person. For example, A Leo Mars woman will feel attracted to fire sun or venus (aries or sag) men. They have similar fiery traits. This applies to men for their Venus signs. A man with a Libra Venus will find airy personalities very attractive and (bonus points) with an airy rising even more.

🦋 Mars is about motivation, drive, your temper and temperature. Yes, First house goes checked your blood pressure and heart rate. Whenever you get mad, you should listen to your heart 👀, please.

🦋 Don't trust tik tok astrology notes. I just heard someone saying Mars in the 1st likes to work under pressure like for daily work Girl...I'm Mars in the 1st and NO. My heart cannot resist that.

💙 Also, first house mars synastry can be a feisty couple. In public or private 😗, the "I hate you" type, and then they kiss each other.

🦋 12th house-Venus synastry can be very pretty if they decide to go with the flow. Without judging the other, or forcing to be like others (society roles).

🦋 Their venus is in your 12th house, it indicates that they feel loved by you in ways they cannot describe. This sometimes also mean blurry lines. If they don't know your relationships status, communication is useful. Don't let your mind read signs.

🐦 Venus in the 2nd, guess? People likes to buy you things. If someone has their sign in your 2nd house, they will buy you things easily. Also, they can prefer to eat together or show physical love (hugs or hold hands) even for friends. Taurus rules the 2nd house.

🦋 Insecure men with your lilith sign in their Venus (conjuction) will not asking you out. THEY'RE SCARE OF YOU. They believe you will break their heart. If they do ask you out, they are ready to fight the world for you.

🦋 Love doesn't equals obssesion. Pluto in the 8th synastry repeat after me: Love isn't obssesion!

🐦 Men with your Venus sign in their Sun sign will be easy to read. If they will like you, you will see it. They cannot play mind games.

🐳 Dating your 12th house sign especially in the sun or moon, it's something I don't recommend at all. They will make you feel "confused", even if they don't try it.

🪼 Women with Mars in the 1st house make fragile men feel inadequate. You can see those men feeling threatened by these women.

🦋 If he has his Mars in your 1st house, he thinks you're hot . Girl, don't even doubt it.

📫 The venus sign in a man chart depicts his ideal type. However, what he needs could be found in the moon. Good aspects between Moon-Venus: a long-term commitment.

🦋 People in your 5th house feels very flirty with you. So, the tension is there, yes, but don't be too delusional. Flirting doesn't mean a serious deal, just be aware of respect if you are in a relationship.

🪼 🔞 If people have their sun or moon in your 8th house, you will see them as more attractive in a romantic/sexual way. It's highly posible to have sex, even if they're not your type.

🐳 🔞 Water in the 8th house in a person's chart indicates "emotions + pleasure". Usually women like to be dominated. Men prefer to dominate. Both prefer dynamic partners with a good aftercare.

🦋 🔞Men with water in the 8th house like to have sex in beaches, in the bathroom and when things gets emotional. Angry sex too.

🦋 Conjuntion and trines have good things, but we cannot ignore the bad things. For example, moon conjunct moon; good things, you understand each other; bad things, you may become twins (for good or bad), too comfortable in the relationship, forgetting romance and passion.

🦋 Sun signs are important to considered if they don't match your Jupiter sign. It could indicate possible obstacles in your marriage.

🪼 Friendly reminder, a perfect synastry doesn't equal a perfect relationship. Please, if the person doesn't respect you, leave them. Not matter how perfect is the synastry in paper.

Take care, lovelies 💚😘.

Credit: @deepmochi