#officially a lightweight in all settings

[panb1mbo]

i can’t believe i used to hit the pen until it auto stopped i just took like a five second hit by accident cause i had my pen in my mouth but i wasn’t actually holding it and i accidentally inhaled longer than i intended and i am gone i am oh so gone

[theealbatross]

kiss me (s.s.)

Plot | You fought, kissed, and made up. But it could never be that easy.

or, Sebastian took two steps forward and three steps back.

Tags | insecurities, social pressures, obsessive tendencies, slytherin!reader, dark!seb and reader if you squint, but not really, underage drinking (theyre all 16-18 in this), they're just crazy about each other and can't tell anyone, kissing (duh) nothing too PG, happy ending?, read 4k words and figure it out, if the end made you scream say 'aye'

[ 6th Year ]

“Spin that fucking bottle!”

If you had known what absolute monstrosity you would create when you introduced muggle sleepover games to your housemates you would’ve gone to bed early.

But now, you were surrounded by drunk, nosy, Slytherins that were dead-set on exposing each other’s most embarrassing secrets. No one was safe.

“Imelda!” Everyone cheered, Grace quickly hooked her arms around the other girl’s neck when she tried to escape.

The party had long since been over, most of the students from other houses had already retired to their own rooms but those who had friends in Slytherin (like Poppy and Natty) or were too drunk to journey back to the spiraling staircases of their houses safely (like Everett and Samantha) decided to sober up for a while in the Quidditch Grand Champion’s common room.

“Are you actually as mean as you pretend to be or do you just not know how to make friends,” Natty slurred, pointing and wagging a finger at her.

If she was in a better constitution, she would’ve been able to brush off that accusation easily and with confidence but a dozen of improved (thanks Garreth) Firewhiskey shots later and the ever-guarded Imelda flushed in embarrassment to the surprise of everyone. The small circle burst out laughing, Imelda pushed Grace away in annoyance.

“It’s okay, ‘melda. We love you as you are!” Poppy was definitely still hammered.

“Next, next, next!”

The bottle spun and spun but your eyes were at the boy who had just returned from tucking Ominis in their shared dorm. You smiled up at him as he sat in the reserved space available just for him right beside you. “Omi?” you mouthed.

He squeezed your hands, silently letting you know your lightweight friend was now safely tucked in his own bed and ready to welcome the worst hangover he had ever known tomorrow.

“Well, well, well! Our brilliant, beloved, beater!”

It was when you turned your eyes back down on the ground that you saw that the mouth of the bottle was now undoubtedly pointed at Sebastian.

“Mate, I just got here!”

The crowd booed, Sebastian receiving light punches and playful jeers. “It’s the rules, Sallow!”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, the false inventor of such guidelines. You smirked, shrugging, “Rules are rules.”

Sebastian gaped at the betrayal. He gave you a look that lets you know he’ll get you back for this, even secretly poking your waist sharply. You didn’t like the way your housemate’s eyes glinted at the small interaction. Oh no.

“Alright, Alright,” Garreth shushed the crowd with two outstretched hands. “I have the million galleon question! I’m sure everyone will praise my genius for it!”

“Get on with it already!”

The Gryffindor threw a drunken glare at the voice from the back of the common room. “Now, I’m sure our dear Sebastian, despite receiving many letters of admiration and flutters of pretty lashes –”

“Gross,” Imelda grumbled.

“—has yet to officially court someone!” Garreth announced, arms stretched wide like he was a ringmaster about to start his greatest show. Everyone oo-ed and ahh-ed and cheered.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Sebastian, for all the eyes that were on him, managed to maintain the small smile on his cocky face.

It was true. You were not blind to the … physical developments he had undergone the last two years nor to the attention it had garnered him. The boy you had sneaked around Hogwarts with in your fifth year had disappeared and was replaced by a man. An unfairly tall, tanned, attractive man. You damn near walked past him again if he had not pulled you to his side on your first day during your 6th year.

You weren’t ignorant of it, nor were you dumb enough to deny your attraction to your friend.

But you are a lady. And his friend.

His most trusted, beloved friend (his words not yours).

You’d rather not risk your lifelong connection if he won’t. You know how to read between the lines as blurry as it had become. He’s lost too much and you refuse to become another scar in his soul. The both of you have had enough of that to last you till the next lifetime.

“So, my question is,” your eyes widened when you felt two hands on each of your shoulders, in your deep reverie you have failed to notice Garreth sneaking behind your back or that all conniving eyes and raised eyebrows were now on you.

Sebastian smiled.

“Kiss, Marry, Kill.”

[ 7th Year ]

It was by incredible luck that your 7th year of Hogwarts called for the Triwizard tournaments to be held in Hogwarts.

You were prepared to enjoy the event in relative peace. Happy that for once you would be the spectator of all the action instead of being the one in the middle of it.

Life just can’t make it that easy for you.

You did not even realize that Sebastian of all people had thrown his name in as consideration until he had been called and your dreams of a quiet last year in Hogwarts were shot to the depths of hell. It was the first time in a while that you felt true fear, the type that froze all your blood solid.

The fight that followed in the Undercroft was explosive.

“How could you be so reckless, Sebastian?! People die in these games! Why would you do this?!”

Just the thought of it makes your stomach sink. Sebastian will be front and center of this bloody battle of pride that is broadcasted to the entire wizarding world. It was different when it was the two of you jumping through all types of danger – this time you won’t be able to help him. He will be alone.

Yet, when you had expected a valid explanation and a plan out of all this madness he instead looked at you with such anger and vitriol that you physically flinched.

“Because I am sick of being just your friend!” Even Ominis pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. Foreseeing a tragedy about to uncontrollably unroll. “I’m constantly surrounded by you two! Ominis Gaunt, the scion of the purest bloodline in the wizarding world, the Heir of Slytherin who could do no wrong! How brilliant!”

He cackled a laugh, he looked like a man at the brink of insanity. How long had he been holding on to these thoughts?

“And you!”

“Sebastian enough –” Ominis tried to cut through his mania but he wasn’t having any of it. Once the words were out, there was no taking them back in. He was cursed – he will have to see it through.

“Famed Hero of Hogwarts,” each word was dripped in poison, the insecurities bubbling inside him caused him to lash out at anyone and everyone who dared question his decision. How could they understand? How would they understand a nobody? “Do you know how tired I am of being in your shadow?”

He felt the sting before he heard it, the slap drowned the Undercroft in silence. Then, the weight of his grave words sunk in. The green haze in his head cleared just to see the boiling tears falling down your distraught face.

What has he –

“Then let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian,” your face crumpled, physically pained by such cruelty from your dearest companion. “You’re on your own this time.”

That had been months ago, aside from the few classes you had together he had not even seen you anywhere else. Not even in the first game when he had sent you an owl begging you for a chance to apologize and dedicating his win to you. The victory over the other contestants tasted bitter when he couldn’t find your face in the celebrating crowd.

And the pit in his chest turned into a black hole when he caught Ominis at the edge of the celebration shaking his head. She didn’t come. He’s lost her.

Ominis refused to help him – not that he deserved any. In retrospect, it was ... silly – the insecurities he had been shamefully hiding. He knew his friends had never seen him short of an equal but it’s difficult to see the good when the entire world is looking down at you with cruel, disapproving eyes when your back is turned. Cruel whispers they made sure only he could hear.

“I thought he’d live somewhere more posh.” “Sallow? Dating her? That’s preposterous he’s an orphan with barely a galleon to his name.” “Why do you think they keep him around?”

It was stupid and irrational and he handled it in the worst possible way. Lashed out at the one person who least deserved it, who went through hell to drag him back out, then benevolently tended to all the wounds and scars in his humanity till he was himself again.

“Let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian.”

He slammed his head on the wall he was leaning on, the heartbreaking image of her distressed face was a nightmare that had chased him awake or asleep.  Sebastian may deserve this but you most definitely didn’t. He never deserved you.

Yet, here he was, sitting on the floor of the Ravenclaw Tower with a wilted bouquet of wildflowers he had picked before breakfast, hoping he could catch her somehow. He ignored the giggles, snickers, and confused questions thrown his way no matter how embarrassed he felt. He wasn’t moving from this spot until he can apologize – the silent treatment was torture worse than Crucio. And he had been hit with one.

At the first sound of the walls transforming, he was already up on his feet, his hands instinctively brushing his hair as if looking presentable would even out his chances of repairing his most treasured friendship.

The door opened and finally, your eyes met his. The tension was something that would choke even the greediest puffskein. Your eyes were wide, unblinking and your lips were pursed in a fine line that communicated how much you loathed being in his presence. He hopes you know that you could never hate him as much as he hated himself at this very moment.

“For you!” It was only when it was being offered to you did he realize how abysmal the dying bouquet he had been carrying in his hands since this morning looked. But it was too late now, she was already here, looking at the flower then back to him and all the lines he had practiced flew out of his head.

Instead, he just fell to his knees, prostrating, tears already threatening to fall down his face. He had never been an honorable man. “Sebastian! Get up!”

“I will do anything you ask me to,” The feel of her touch made his skin tingle. After months of not even catching your eyes or hearing your voice and it was more than worth it to suffer through all this humiliation just for this moment. Even if you may never forgive him at least he could apologize. He’ll have a better last moment with you than your fight. “I’ll win the games. I’ll quit. I’ll drop out of Hogwarts if that’s what you want just, please … forgive me.”

He felt your arms wrap around him but he was too distraught, barely comprehending that you had somehow pulled him back into the room until the two of you fell on the ground and the door of the room slammed shut. Still, he continued sobbing in your arms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he drenched your neck with his anguished tears. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian wasn’t playing fair but your forgiveness was a prize he was willing to cheat to earn. There would be no point of honor if he lost you – anyone else but you.

“It wasn’t anything you did. It was me,” he sobbed. “I just – you and Ominis became such incredible people that I realized it was me who had not become anyone. I am a nobody!”

“Sebastian that is just not true –”

“It’s moronic I know! But I just thought … if I could win these games … if I could stop being just myself and be a champion then I can finally earn the spot beside you.”

It was embarrassing to admit all that, the deep insecurities that had festered inside of him the moment he was finally faced with the reality of the world. That he was surround by great people who has and will achieve great things and he was … him. A failure, a murderer, a burden.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” your cold voice woke him up from his self-lashings.

He sniffed, nodding, finally finding the strength and shame to sit up on his knees in front of you. “I … I really am so sorry.”

He pinched his eyes shut, preparing himself for the worst. His nails digging in his palm in an effort to stop it from shaking. However, it took one touch of your palms to break through all his pretenses. “I forgive you.”

He crumbled in relief, jumping into your open arms in a mess of tears, snot, and even more apologies.

“I know, I know,” you shushed him, hands tight even as he soaked your shirt through. “Ominis talked to me and … Sebastian you really are so silly. What do you mean you're a nobody? You're the top student in our year! So much so that all those Ravenclaws have declared you their enemy. You're the greatest beater in our generation that even I have been receiving owls begging me to somehow convince you to play for their team when you graduate! I can't even imagine how many times I would have gotten in trouble or straight-up died if it wasn't for you! I swear you're so fucking daft sometimes!”

He nodded eagerly, taking any jabs you may have if it meant you were talking to him. Even if it was still difficult for him to accept that any of those achievements you dictated could ever surmount to what you had achieved he knew it wasn't smart to try and correct it now when you had just forgiven his transgressions. “Stupid, stupid, boy.”

It was there in that room that your fractured friendship was mended with a bunch of dead flowers and Sebastian’s tears.

To celebrate, you had produced a couple of leftover Hogshead Brew for the two of you to enjoy till you were tipsy enough to forget the past horrible months without each other and were now giggling to each other’s face as if to make up for all the laughs you were owed in the months of silence.

“Lay back down, your eyes are going to be swollen shut.”

He’s been crying so hard for so long that he was too tired to do anything but follow your words, laying at the center of the bed you’ve conjured and sighing at the warm cloth you pressed on his eyes that miraculously stopped the world from spinning.

If he thinks too hard about the shameful faces he had shown you, he fears he’s going to combust, instead he focused on the rake of your nails on his hair, the familiar scent of your perfume he had given to you as a gift for your birthday last year, and the weight of your head as you laid on his stomach while the alcohol coursed through his body.

“You shouldn’t quit.”

He folded the cloth in one eye to take a peek at you. You giggled sweetly, clearly taking the drink harder than him, and gods above did he miss it. His happiness was cut short however when you crawled over the length of his body and instead plopped next to him, your head resting on his outstretched arm.

Physical affection wasn’t new to the two of you – after what you had been through hugs and holding hands were something the two of you found comfort in, a reminder that despite everything, the two of you made it out together – but after a few months without it he was faced with the realization of how unconventionally intimate your friendship truly was.

“Like I said, Ominis explained to me how you’ve been feeling – only another man would ever understand a bruised man’s ego. And if this is what’s going to make you feel better then I will support you till the end.” He turned his head so he can look at your eyes. When you cupped his face he felt his gut curl on itself from adoration. “But make no mistake Sebastian, the two of us have always been equals. We’re kindred spirits, remember?”

Kindred spirits, he thought. He remembers the first time he called the two of you that -- something a little cheeky for the first witch who didn't sneer in disgust at the prospects of his less than favorable past time. The curiosity in your eyes then was one he had seen in his own, even then he had this funny feeling that you were going to get along very well.

If he only knew how right he was, he would've thought he was a prodigy in divination.

A tear once again pebbled at the memory but just as he closed his eyes ready to wipe it away you were already sitting up, throwing the wet cloth and pressing a kiss on the edge of it. Sebastian sucked in a breath, blinking to see you hovering over him now. He’s never seen you this zealous. The passion in your eyes is almost mirroring his own.

It would seem whatever was in that brew had smashed through your inhibitions and his pride as he let you continue peppering kisses all over his face.

“You are very precious to me,” she whispered fondly, her gaze soft, drunk and adoring then it turned dark, an emotion crossed your face that he’d only seen when you had been fighting the meanest of foes. “I’d blow this entire school up before I let any of them think they could take your place in my life.”

Sebastian shuddered, his entire body burning under your gaze.

Leaning over again, you pressed another kiss on his other eyelid. “I won’t allow anyone to take you away from me.”

On his forehead. “And you are not allowed to leave me. I forbid it, Sebastian.”

As pathetic as it was, the words were everything he needed to hear. The possession healing over all his insecurities like a balm.

He has always been a selfish lad. His parents and everything he had ever known were ripped away from him at too early of an age that it made him realize that he needed to protect Anne because she was all he had but even that exploded spectacularly into a tragedy.

And then he met you and finally, finally, he met his person. Someone who was seemingly made just for him. Someone who understood him for all his secrets and flaws and still called him a friend.

However, it would seem that he was cursed of a cruel fate. Because the one person who was supposed to be just his turned out to be the most sought-after witch of their generation with the type of magic that had not been seen in centuries. At first, it didn’t matter, he was confident of his place in your life. But as the two of you grew up, the reality that your position in society were skies apart was when his insecurities began to painfully blossom.

But this … it was nice to be claimed like this. To be able to hear and see the crazed obsession he had only seen in his own reflection be mirrored by the one person he needed it from the most. The whole world can laugh behind his back, it didn’t matter anymore. The most brilliant witch in history is in this bed with him, kissing all his insecurities away and branding him as hers.

He chuckled but was cut short when you pressed a softer kiss just by the edge of his smile. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, his ears failing to hear anything else but the next words out of your mouth. “Do you understand me, Sebastian?”

It has never been clearer: she is his.

“You are mine.”

With her final words, Sebastian’s brain seems to finally function again. A surge of alcohol and courage caused him to raise his limbs to cup your face, pulling you closer and closer so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since your first duel.

A kiss. A promise. The final bind that would lock your souls together forevermore.

You gasped, smiling through the kiss before you plopped your entire body on top of his, your body finally getting overwhelmed by the alcohol and all that has happened in the past hours – knocking you straight into a dreamless sleep.

For the first time in a long, long while, he was at peace.

The two of you may never remember this moment but he’ll know it in his soul. In this dim room, surrounded by her scent, and her skin, and her kisses – he has finally found where he belongs and who belonged to him.

He pulled you into him – tighter, closer. It didn’t matter, you were his.

Only his.

“Guess we made up?”

When you woke up Sebastian was already lounging in the ottoman by the end of the bed, casually reading a book while you were crawling towards him with your blanket over your head and suffering through a hangover.

If not for the redness in his eyes you would’ve thought you hallucinated his teary apologies.

He was quick to open up his form, grabbing a decorative pillow for you as you laid down on his lap dramatically. You don’t remember much but you knew enough that the big fight was forgotten and forgiven.

“Guess so, darling,” he chuckled nonchalantly, back to his cool, charming self as if he hadn’t been a crybaby in your arms just yesterday.

‘Darling’? That’s new.

You grinned, letting him pet you. You weren’t complaining, not being friends with Sebastian felt wrong and it was a miracle you stood your ground as hard as you did.

“Aren’t I so gracious, dear?” you teased, poking his stomach to make him flinch. The two of you laughed. “What happened after I popped out that blasted poison from Hogshead?”

When you try to comb through your memories your headache fights back with a vengeance so you had hoped he would supply the blank pages in your mind.

He stared at you for a beat before sighing, looking truly as miffed as you. “I wish I remembered, I’m in the dark as much as you.”

And as much as he knows it was wrong to not try to remember, he also knew he wouldn’t be able to live through the embarrassment of what he might’ve been telling you while he was drunk and emotional again. It was a mistake but he was more than happy to let those blank memories remain blank. What’s important is that you are friends again.

“Let’s focus on the future now, hm? No sense digging through what would definitely be an embarrassing moment for me,” he groaned, pinching your cheeks when you gave him a teasing smile.

You hesitated, biting your lip but then nodded. “If you say so.” It was in the past after all.

Sebastian was glad you let it go. (He will regret this in years to come.)

“Speaking of futures, I had wanted to ask you,” he played with the short strands of your hair, heart full of adoration as he looked down at your face. “Go to the Yule Ball with me? Gotta have a pretty date for this year.”

You dramatically gasped, “The Future Triwizard Champion asking little old me? Also, I was your date last year, scoundrel!”

He burst out laughing, you jumped into his arms, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

His lips tingled, his head ached as it begged him to remember. But then you flashed him that bright smile and nothing else mattered.

“I would love to.”

The two of you were back to what you had once been. It would just be greedy to ask for more.

Right?

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Missing You | Lucien x Reader

Summary: After coming back home from a long trip to Autumn Court due to his emissary duties, Lucien is exhausted, but still more than willing for whatever touch you’ll give him.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: Lucien’s bad relationship w Eris, smut but like…comfort smut? is that a thing? p in v, sub lulu, yknow

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: I have not been feeding y’all good😔 so here’s a lucien fic since we all know he’s the best character in acotar hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

As the somewhat-official emissary of Night Court, there were things Lucien had to handle.

Such as the impossibly long mission he’d been sent on, an excursion to Autumn, to get reassurances that everything was running smoothly with Eris installed as the newest High Lord following a few recent riots and whatnot. The visit had been…awkward, to say the least, considering how Lucien wasn’t the closest with his elder brother.

Things were getting better between them. Slowly, but surely.

As soon as he was back in Velaris, the report he knew he should go give Rhysand be damned, he stumbled to the door of the home you two had, a simple, but warm and cozy one. Fitting for you, he always thought.

It was late then, he could hear the chirping of the nighttime bugs of Velaris, the birds quietly cawing before settling down. The moon was out tonight, in its waning stage. Clouds aimlessly drifted past in the midnight sky, and as soon as he had taken one step through the dod frame, he felt a small warm form collide with his body as you threw your arms around his neck.

“Gods, I missed you.”

You murmured into his ear, and he smiled softly, arms loosely embracing you back. And then he was suddenly all too aware of the grime and sweat soaking him from the journey home, the sleepless nights, and his anxieties.

“I know, love, but I need to take a shower.”

He relied in an almost apologetic tone, giving a small kiss on the forehead to you, before pulling out of the embrace even when you whined and pouted at him.

“Alone?”

You asked, giving him a pleading look. He sighed and nodded. Even after being alone in Autumn for so long, he needed time to decompress in a safe space, which was here. As much as you hated separating from him, you mumbled a little “okay” before he left to enter the bathroom.

*********************************************************

You had seen the exhaustion in his body language, the way his shoulders caved in, weighed down. Or how he hadn’t even noticed the dinner set out on the table, one that you’d specially made for him.

You couldn’t blame him for it, though. He hadn’t known, you told yourself as you slid the food into glass containers for tomorrow, how long you’d spent on it. And you couldn’t bear to be angry at him right now, when he’d been away so long, and had to be around his older brother as well. He’d slowly opened up about the problems between the two of them, the gap that never seemed to fill.

You felt bad for him, truly, but there wasn’t much you could do to comfort him other than give him space and be there when he needed you.

The sounds of the shower started up, water flowing down and hitting the bottom of the tub. Every second of that shower felt like an eternity because even though you knew he needed a little time to himself, you just wanted to hold him impossibly close and feel every inch of him and remember that this was real, that he was here and back.

Still caught up in your thoughts, you put up the now-packaged food and turned the kitchen lights off, walking quietly into your shared bedroom, and slipping your clothes off to don a thin, cotton nightgown. The material was always just lightweight enough to be breathable for your skin.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, before moving under the covers, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable and stretch the tension out of your body.

Not long after, your eyes began feeling heavy as you blinked, and the shower stopped, before Lucien stepped out of the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around his waist. If the earlier signs that he was tired weren’t enough, the fact that he didn’t even go through with his skincare or haircare routine tonight showed it clearly. He was usually so strict about it, the specific serums and oils, his hair masks and hydration, honestly sometimes it seemed more like he was speaking a different language when he tried to explain it.

But you liked hearing him talk about things he was invested in.

“Luci..”

You mumbled, sitting up slowly and rubbing your eyes. He only barely pulled some boxers on before collapsing into the bed beside you, one arm trying to pull you close. He sighed deeply, inhaling as much of your scent as he could when you moved closer.

“Missed this,”

He mumbled, looking like he was in a daze. Your hands began gently roaming his skin, beginning with his shoulders, rubbing the tension out of them as best as you could. The angle you were at currently wasn’t too great for it, though, so you shifted to where you were almost straddling him, your body lying above his limp one.

“Careful, I’m-“

The words died in his throat as he let out a breathy groan when you hit a particularly stiff spot. You leaned down slightly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, before starting a light trail down his golden-tanned skin. Every little inch of him received your kisses, his biceps, his abdomen, his legs, face, then you were at his inner thigh, gently rubbing the skin as his breathing turned to little pants.

You hooked a finger on the edge of his boxers, slowly tugging them down as you continued your exploration, all the way down to his cock. It was half-hard, and every tiny movement you made anywhere near it made it twitch. Your tongue darted out to give a little lick, at which Lucien whimpered, and then it was throbbing. Your hand snuck up your nightgown, pushing your panties aside as you began slipping fingers in, stretching and rubbing.

“Lulu,”

You cooed softly, a nickname you’d made for him long ago, and even to this day you swore the tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink when you used it. He sniffled, looking down at you with what almost looked like a pout. Sure, you’d seen him submissive before, but never just so utterly defeated and whiny.

“Please.”

He whispered, hips trying and failing to buck up, his body failing him. You gave a little lick again to his length, before you let your fingers slip out of you, and slid up a bit against his body. As soon as he saw your glistening fingers, his mouth was open and inviting, and you didn’t deny him any longer, letting his deft tongue lick and suck the slick from your fingers. His eyes rolled back in his head, growing slightly glazed over with lust.

You shifted a bit more, pulling your fingers away, only to gently wrap that hand around his dick, managing to pull a light gasp out of him from it, as you slowly sunk onto him. He whimpered and groaned, body near trembling as you suffered the slightly painful stretch.

When he was finally, finally all the way in, you let out a ragged sigh of relief, leaning down to lay against his chest, arms folding easily around him. He buried his face in the nook of your shoulder, hips barely able to move other than the tiniest bit of rocking back and forth. It was barely perceptible, but more than enough for the both of you.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained like that, hips barely rocking back and forth until you came undone around him with little more than a moan, and he spilled into you with a whimper. Tonight wasn’t the night for hard, demanding sex. Sometimes you both just needed something comfortable and soothing, while both were able to feel each other.

He eventually drifted off to sleep, breathing and falling into a deep rhythm, and you were soon to join him.

[seren1tyhaze]

Vibration

PAIRING: dilf!mark lee x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9K

SUMMARY: Going home with Jaemin after another date leads to a night (and morning after) that you will never forget. Especially after you meet his incredibly hot Uncle Mark.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I present my official gift to my fellow Markfs for our beloved Mark Lee's birthday. This has been a long-standing, half-finished wip that was heavily inspired by MarkLeeInARobe2023 during that one live during tds2 where we are all pretty sure he wasn't wearing any underwear. Hope you all had a wonderful Mark Day and that you enjoy this gift from me to you :)

WARNINGS: explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mild swearing

PLAYLIST: Vibration by Mark Lee, Daddy Issues by Demi Lovato

Beast on the loose, rocking on Close your eyes and look Feel the vibration Do you feel alive?

~~

“Shhhhhh…Jaem! We are going to get in trouble!” you squeal, dodging the tall man’s grabby hands as you wobble, almost dropping into the sparkling water of the pool under the night sky.

“Loosen up, silly,” he slurs back, bottle of tequila dangling from his long fingers dangerously over the slate tiles under your bare feet.

A third date with a cute guy from the IT department at work had turned into after dinner drinks and after after dinner drinks and dancing and shots and now you were stumbling around in the backyard of Jaemin’s house…?

“This is your house, right?” you ask, pausing and cocking your head to the right in punctuation as you watch him peel off his undershirt, his lightweight sweater long discarded half a bottle ago.

“I live here, yes,” he chuckles back, dropping down to let his feet dip into the light blue water of the beautiful pool set in the middle of the yard.

“My uncle is letting me stay with him for a few months before I find my own place.”

You take a moment to glance towards the large house in front of you. The entire back wall is floor to ceiling windows, giving a beautiful view of a modern and spacious kitchen, dim lighting illuminating granite countertops and shiny appliances. Jaemin’s uncle must be another one of these rich tech bros who never grew out of spending his money on shiny things. At least in this case you were benefiting from it.

You think you see some movement in the living room and are about to say something before you hear a loud splash and water shoots over your bare legs, dampening the flowy skirt of your thin dress.

Gasping, you shoot daggers at the smiley man in the pool, watching with interest as he dips his head back, running slender fingers through long auburn locks. You smile at him softly, tequila or lust clouding your judgment as you descend the stairs in the pool to meet him in the middle where your feet barely touch the bottom.

Jaemin’s hands find your waist underwater, pulling you closer to him as your dress billows out in the water, exposing you under the shimmering lights. A devious grin forms across his beautiful features as he tightens his grip on your waste and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Jaemin…don’t even think about it…” you warn, placing your hands on his shoulders preemptively.

Suddenly you are being tossed in the air and back into the water, head being pulled under the water and a muffled shriek bursting from your throat. You gasp for air as you break through the surface again only to find the charming boy in front of you laughing maniacally, clutching his middle underwater.

“Na Jaemin!” comes a loud voice, causing you both to snap your heads back towards the house, to find a blonde man with round wire frame glasses on the tip of his nose standing in black silk pajamas near the glass sliding door.

Jaemin is suddenly next to you and your heart is racing as the man takes another step closer to the pool, stepping into the moonlight. The rippling water of the pool is casting bright flashes across his face and strong frame, pants hugging his thighs before flaring out in a perfectly tailored length. His hair is on the longer side, similar to Jaemin’s but a beautiful pale blonde, dry and silky.

“Uncle Markkkk,” Jaemin slurs, tossing an arm around your shoulder, hand tangling instinctively in your long wet hair. You shrug violently in an attempt to get away from him, blush flaring up on your cheeks as you meet the stern man’s gaze.

“It’s late, use the indoor hot tub if you’re going to be out here. I don’t need pissed off neighbors,” he adds before turning on his heel to head back in the house. You don’t miss how his plump ass is accentuated by the silky material and have a hard time dragging your eyes away. Before he’s even out of sight, Jaemin’s hands are hungrily all over you again, sliding up your wet back to massage your shoulders.

“Jaemin, stop,” you warn, avoiding his kiss with a shake of your head. Getting caught has thrust you back to an embarrassed reality and you’re already plotting your escape via a long Uber ride back to your apartment.

“Don’t worry about Mark, he’s cool, I promise,” Jaemin coos, connecting his lips with your neck, wicked tongue making quick work at marking the skin there.

You melt under his touch, weak for that particular spot, and close the gap to connect further with his chest. Slotting your lips with his, you lick behind his teeth greedily, wrapping your arms around his neck and sighing against his lips.

“Fine, but take me inside, you owe me a shower and warm clothes,” you whisper against his mouth, linking your legs around his waist and grinding against his crotch as a silent promise.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed and sun streaming through the window. It feels late but when you check your phone you realize it was around the time you would wake up on a weekday. The house is silent and Jaemin’s backpack is gone from where he had messily strewn it the night before.

A note on his desk indicates he had been called into the office on this peaceful Saturday to deal with a possible data breach and you are welcome to anything in the kitchen. You check your phone to realize he’s already sent you money for an Uber and your heart sinks. He was cute, cuter than you usually went for and way too nice for you. You now know this has to be the last date with him, your commitment issues flaring up.

Mk usually plays tennis on Saturdays so the coast should be clear. Call me later xx

You sink into his desk chair, crumpling the note and letting it fall into the small waste basket. After a quick wash of your face and brush of your teeth, you shrug into one of Jaemin’s oversized hoodies, letting it drop long on your thighs and covering the boxer briefs he had lent you last night. Combing through your hair with your fingers, you pull the hood up over your head and pad downstairs, louder than you would have in someone’s home.

Making your way into the kitchen, you go straight to the fridge, yanking it open to find glass bottles of water lining the door. You uncap one and take it down in one gulp, thirsty beyond belief.

“Jaeminnie, we need to talk about last night,” comes the same voice who had startled you by the pool the night before.

You freeze, pushing the fridge door shut slowly. In the hoodie and boxers, with your hair and frame covered, you know you could easily be mistaken for the boy you had gone home with. You had similar build and heights and a quick glance over your shoulder confirms that Mark hadn’t lowered the newspaper he was reading.

“You can’t just keep fucking every beautiful girl you meet in my pool. What would my brother say about how I’m letting you spend your summer?” he continues in a condescending tone as you back up against the island, nervous to turn around.

“And by the sounds of you two in the shower, it sounds like she’s sexy as hell and quite the catch, so don’t you think it’s about time you settled down?” he finishes, lifting his tone up in a question, never lowering the paper.

You place the empty bottle down on the glossy countertop and cross the kitchen to the table where he sits, placing manicured fingertips on the top of the paper to get his attention.

“Quite the catch? Sexy as hell? Oh do tell me more about this beautiful girl,” you reply with a smirk, pulling the newspaper from the shocked man’s face.

“Jesus, fuck, I’m so sorry…” Mark trails off as you push the hood off your head, shaking your locks temptingly and giving him a quizzical cock of your brow.

“Don’t be sorry,” you start, leaning your hip against the edge of the table as you watch panic wash over his face.

His face looks freshly washed with no doubt luxury skincare applied immediately after and he is lounging casually in a dark blue robe with white trim, ML embroidered in gold thread at the chest. His toned chest is peaking through, belt loose at the waist and legs spread wide, bare legs ending in soft slippers planted on the floor.

“I heard someone leave early so I assumed it was you. I had no idea you were still here,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the dangling edge of the belt. His eyes are struggling to meet yours, as you train your gaze down at him with your hands now shoved in the hoodie pocket.

“He had to head to work. He said you wouldn’t be here,” you reply softly, now feeling bad for grilling him as he squirmed below you. He looked soft and sweet in the morning light, drastically different from the stern fatherly tone he took last night at the edge of the pool.

“Can I make you a cappuccino? Some eggs?” he asks, sitting up in the chair, bare knees bumping against yours and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Hmm I was thinking of how I could repay you for your hospitality. This is quite a beautiful home you have here, Uncle Mark,” you reply, brushing your hand across his that was resting on his knee.

He winces at the name but looks down at your hand on his, turning his over to let your fingers lace with his. The tips of his fingers are calloused and you silently wonder if he plays guitar, having noticed some framed records on the wall on the stairs.

“Mark, please, just Mark,” he replies, voice coming out gravelly, eyes dying to roll into the back of his head at the name.

“And it’s fine, I don’t know how to make eggs anyways,” he adds, squeezing your hand gently as you move your other to the belt at his waist.

“Of course a filthy rich guy like you doesn’t cook,” you reply lightly, dropping down to your knees, releasing his hand and placing both your palms on his knees, knocking the edge of the robe out of the way to expose his bare thighs. As far as you can tell, he isn’t wearing any underwear and the thought of his hardening cock bare against his thigh makes you squeeze your legs together.

Mark widens his legs as his eyes narrow, watching you sitting back on your legs in front of him, baggy material pooling around your thighs. Before you can reach to pull the knot of his belt loose, he leans down and you feel your eyes slide shut, assuming he’s going to kiss you. He chuckles instead, breath warm across your lips as he tugs at the hood of the sweatshirt.

“Take this off now,” he commands, sitting back up in the chair and pulling at the belt himself, letting it slip to the floor. The robe falls open, revealing a toned and lean torso accompanied by muscular arms. His cock is hard and flushed red against his stomach and an evil smile is spread across his lips.

As soon as you’ve removed the offending material, your eyes go immediately to his cock, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you take in the sight of him. He’s dripping with sex appeal and you can’t help but stare. He’s definitely older than you and Jaemin but can’t be too much older by the look of his physique. His face is young and the blonde dye of his hair makes it impossible to detect any grays, if he even has any.

“Now where’s that thank you I was promised?” he asks, tipping his chin down to speak to you, hand balled into a fist at his knee. His eyes continue trailing down, landing on your breasts being pressed together by your bare upper arms as your hands rest on your knees. You look like a dream kneeling before him in nothing but gray boxers and it’s taking everything in him not to fuck you over the counter top.

You lean forward, sliding your hands gently up his smooth inner thighs, taking his leaking cock in your hand and lowering your lips to the head. You listen as Mark’s breathing slows and hear a soft moan slide from his lips as you close your lips around him, running the point of your tongue over his sensitive slit.

You chuckle at the noise, sending vibrations across him, using your hand to work the base of his shaft as you kitten lick his head. You let your teeth drag lightly against him every once and a while, tasting his woody musk. You let your eyes slip shut, rocking back and forth on your knees, the energy coursing through your body making you feel more alive than ever.

A disgruntled noise from above draws your gaze up and his hand is suddenly in your hair, pulling the long locks into a ponytail to pull you off his dick.

“Come on, sweetie, I know you can do better than that. I heard how Jaemin fucked your throat last night - my bed shares a wall with the shower,” he grunts out, voice dripping with filth as he accurately recounts your actions from the night before.

Spurred on by his words, you take his cock deep in your mouth, brushing up against the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’re suddenly desperate to prove how well you can take him, despite being slightly bigger than Jaemin and holding far more confidence in the way he carries himself.

Mark lets out a high pitch yelp and you swear you can hear his voice break as he does, sliding his hand down your neck and to your upper back, causing you to shift forward and take him impossibly deeper. Your nose is pressed up into neatly trimmed hair and your eyes begin to water as he lifts his ass off the chair to thrust into your throat. You shift to accommodate him and look up through your lashes to him.

“Holy hell, that’s good,” he groans, arm muscles tensing as he digs his fingertips into your back, no doubt leaving bruises there.

You slide off him, dragging your tongue on the underside of his shaft and swirling around his tip. He squeezes his eyes shut tight behind his glasses, free hand pushing through strands of blonde that had fallen in front of his face.

Without much warning he is shooting warmth across your lips and chest, letting out a deep groan and reaching down to fist at himself through his orgasm. He looks down at you with a smile, lips curling up as if he’s about to say something devious.

“MELT! Babe, are you here?” comes a loud voice, echoing off the walls of the kitchen and causing you to pull back, heart pounding in your chest.

A tall, long-legged man in a polo shirt and athletic shorts appears, his socked feet coming to a stop at the sight of you on your knees on the glossy floor. His hair is dark and lightly permed, long bangs hanging perfectly over his eyebrows and a dainty gold chain laying against his tanned neck.

He gives you a long look up and down, eyes pausing on the cum glazing your lips as you freeze and dart nervous eyes over to Mark, who looks unbothered.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like Markie found something fun to do instead of tennis this morning,” comes his warm voice as he leans against the entryway to the kitchen.

“Ah Hyuckie, let me be, I texted you while you were golfing,” Mark says with a roll of his eyes and a huff, reaching a soft hand to your chin to pull you to your feet.

“Meet my not-so-better-half, Haechan,” Mark adds, comment directed at you as he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth, licking away the remains of his release left there.

You gulp and drop your head sheepishly, looking down to your bare chest and covering it nervously with your arms. Twice in less than 24 hours you had been caught in a compromising position and this time you simply wanted to melt into the floor.

Haechan closes the space between you and you feel a hand in your hair, pulling you up gently to meet his gaze. His eyes are sparkling and beautiful, dark moles dotting his cheek and lips plump and soft.

“She’s cute,” he says to Mark, dipping his head down to brush his lips against your collarbone, tongue darting out to taste some of Mark’s cum on your skin.

“Tastes good too,” he adds with a smile.

“Did you enjoy sucking off my husband, darling?” he asks, dark eyes swimming with mischief. He looks breathtaking up close, features just as pretty as Mark’s and voice dripping with lust.

“Husband…” you trail off, unable to form a coherent sentence. You shoot daggers at Mark, who merely smiles and rolls his eyes again before moving to the coffee machine and starting to make another coffee.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

~~

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Ed's Outfit 1 and Outfit 2

Soo...what kicked this off was me looking at Ed's outfits and relating them to real boxers and trainers. I've just been passively watching boxing videos and noting the stylistic choices Capcom decided to use for Ed and Balrog. And how some things so minor to Ed can still be used as a way to show character growth.

This little rant is going to be focused on Outfit 2 and a little on Outfit 1. Not so much so Outfit 3.

The first major thing I noticed was his Red Gloves in Outfit 2 and I originally thought they were the ones with the velcro strap that most Boxers today use. But they're actually the lace-up ones, that a lot of old-school boxers use.

Lace-up gloves usually require the help of another person to lace up them up for you. This is usually fine in a gym or before a fight, but it can be a pain when training alone. They’re slower to put on and take off, so they are not ideal for shorter bursts of training.

Lace ends could cut opponents, so the gloves are usually taped up at the wrist when fighting.

Glove tape is intended to prevent scratches, scrapes, and cuts from loose laces or velcro. It secures the lace or velcro in place, ensuring the gloves stay in place for the duration of the match. Lastly, glove tape offers an extra level of wrist support.

Storywise, I believe Balrog would've laced them up for Ed and taped down the laces every time Ed would've put this outfit on.

And you can see it in this shot of his gloves.

Another interesting detail about his gloves that Capcom included was the NS on the tape.

Of course In-Game it's meant to represent NeoShadaloo. But there's a purpose for signing the tape in Real life.

In boxing, this is done to ensure that the hand wraps are not tampered with after being inspected and approved by a boxing official. The official’s signature on a boxer's tape confirms that the wraps comply with regulations and haven’t been altered to provide an unfair advantage or added protection.

This has to be done when they are in the room or else they'll make the fighters do it all over again.

I could imagine the officials being on Ed's ass about this when the news broke out that he was training under Balrog. Moreso, not to lead into any foul play.

I'm not going to go too in-depth about the boxing Ed uses but know that because he doesn't have any formal padding in his Outfit 1, his fighting is considered bare-knuckles.

Bare-knuckle fighting today is growing popular in the underground scene.

And since Ed isn't hanging around Balrog like he used to, he probably opted to just use his wraps as the only form of protection for his hands.

ps. But boxers in the ring still wrap their hands before putting them in gloves to prevent any injuries to their hands.

Of course, in Ed's Outfit 1 he's dawning on some Boxing boots, but I can't say the same for his Outfit 2.

Most boxing boots are lightweight and they have a flat bottom to help boxers pivot and rotate, for technical movements. 

But for day-to-day training, the tread at the bottom of the shoe gets worn down fairly quickly and boxers burn through multiple pairs within a year.

The only downside to them is that they are pretty expensive so most boxers would save them until they step into the ring.

And although they have a high top, the shoes don’t provide a lot of support for the ankles. 

And since Ed doesn’t burn through many pairs of clothing like he used to in SFV, it seems reasonable that he would have a couple of official boxing shoes other than the ones shown in Outfit 1.

Another common shoe that boxers like to train in is Basketball shoes. 

Most boxing shoes that have a low top, still have a flat bottom and in the pictures above, it looks to be thicker. 

Like I mentioned before in SFV, Ed grew up relatively fast and he mentioned in his arcade mode how he kept growing into a new set of clothes every month.

Personally, I don’t think Balrog would’ve gotten Ed any official boxing gear until he settled into his own body. So basketball shoes are the way to go. 

It’s also good for newer boxers because of the density and weight. They typically protect the ankles, the bottom of your foot, and the sides a lot more than a boxing boot would. 

For someone starting off in boxing like Ed, getting the ability that he needs on his ankles, being able to move well without the fear of injury, and the bonus of moving around and performing fast, rapid movements, when he changes it out for a boxing boot, theoretically he would’ve been able to move quicker. 

And with Ed’s playstyle, he's seen to be pretty light on his feet. 

Wearing compression pants can help people check their form and correct things that don’t look right. Like if their knees are buckling, or if the athletes are staying upright, etc. 

Performance: Compression pants are specifically designed for athletic activities. They provide a higher level of pressure to the legs, which can help improve blood flow and reduce muscle fatigue.

Recovery: These pants can aid in faster recovery by reducing inflammation and assisting the lymphatic system in draining lactic acid built up from exercise.

Support: They offer more support and stability, which can help with balance and proprioception during a workout.

Overall a good piece to add to one’s collection for working out.

Boxing-wise, there isn't really much to say about the other pieces of clothing in his Outfit 1 and Outfit 2.

If it wasn't obvious, Ed's Outfit 2 was a redesign of his SFV outfit. And this also seems to be an outfit one would use to train in the gym in, rather than in the ring.

Mostly because of the regulations of wearing a shirt and compression pants.

Ed did mention in the Official SF6 news that he did want to look like Balrog and how much Ed idolizes him, so I thought that was cute.

And that's what mostly inspired me to drop this as I'm currently stressing about my clinicals to start. haha. Don't procrastinate kids. Time to disappear again!

Also, I was supposed to do one with Bosch specifically, but I can't really get behind his VA defending a gRapist.

How to wrap hands in boxing: Everything you need to know on how to wrap hands | DAZN News US

What is the purpose of pro boxers writing on their handwraps? - Poe

What is written on the taped-up hands of mma fighters and why? - initials gauze | Ask MetaFilter

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 3.9k ➠ warnings: cursing, drinking, i won’t say that they fight but there’s some… adversarial conversations in here ➠ genre: fluff, a smattering of hurt/comfort, a dash of angst, established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after on needlesticks and other metaphors, before between two palms) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ series masterlist

“…That was passive aggressive.”

“Cheers!” Everyone clinked their glasses in unison.

“To being one year migraine free!” You squealed, entirely unable to contain your excitement.

This was officially the longest you’d ever gone in your life without a migraine since your diagnosis seven years ago now, and the last year of that had been without one entirely, according to your tracking app in your phone. When you showed Sungchan the homescreen of the app proudly displaying ‘You’ve been 1 year migraine free!’, your boyfriend had suggested to go out for dinner with some of your friends still in the area to celebrate. You loved the idea, knowing that you never would’ve thought of something like that on your own. Being chronically ill had always been an inconvenience on your best days; something to overcome, to survive; something that made you feel at odds with your own body day in and day out. The thought of celebrating anything tangential to it never struck you.

The other part of what you were doing tonight, though, was most definitely not Sungchan’s idea.

“That’s the fanciest soda I’ve ever seen, Y/N,” Hendery cocked an eyebrow as you took a sip of your brightly colored, layered drink.

“That’s because it’s not,” you replied coyly.

“Then what is it?” Ten questioned. “Because I thought you couldn’t have alcohol.”

“Mocktail?” Mark asked.

“I can’t have it when I’m on my meds, so I skipped them so I could celebrate for once in my adult life,” you admitted. Giving Chenle, who was on your left, a bump with your shoulder, you added, “Chenle helped me out with what to order.”

“Y/N never even drank in high school, so she was a bit clueless,” your best friend confirmed with a snicker.

“Oh, you’re going to be such a lightweight!” Hendery grinned holding up his hand for a high-five.

“Not that you’re not an adult who can make her own decisions…” Ten cautiously prefaced his question. “But are you going to be okay if you skip a dose of your medication? Don’t you like, need that?”

“It was more than one dose,” Sungchan finally spoke up from your right, for the first time since the cheers. “The medications have half-lives of about a week or so. In order to minimize the chance of a reaction, she’s been off them for two weeks.”

The table was quiet for a moment, an awkward silence as you held Sungchan’s eye contact incredulously.

“He’s just upset I decided to celebrate one year migraine-free by doing something that will probably give me a migraine.” You turned back to everyone else, chuckling sheepishly to dissolve the tension. “Which really is a genius move on my part, I’m aware. But I feel like it’s kind of like lactose intolerant people who really love mac and cheese, you know? Except I only do it once every seven years instead of every other day.”

That earned you a loud round of laughter from everyone at the table—save for Sungchan, who remained quiet as he took a sip of his water.

“Pace yourself, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pushing his glass of water over to you. “You have literally no alcohol tolerance, remember?”

“Mmm… you’re right, sorry.” You set your rather delicious drink down to lean down and sip from the straw.

“Buzzkill,” Chenle stuck his tongue out at your boyfriend.

“Bad influence,” Sungchan retorted, moving your hair back so it didn’t fall in the open water cup as you gulped it down.

“I heard that!”

“I didn’t whisper!”

“Alright, you two,” Sicheng cut in from Sungchan’s other side. “This isn’t cute, lighthearted bickering. Chenle, you’re tipsy and Sungchan, you’re not actually upset at Chenle.”

Chenle knocked back the rest of his drink before covering his mouth as he burped. “Sorry, dude.”

“Yeah, sorry, Chenle,” Sungchan sighed. “Let’s get you home, man.”

“Ten and I will take him,” Sicheng offered. “You worry about your girl.”

“I’m…” You paused, squinting your eyes as you evaluated your current state. “It’s weird… it’s kind of like some of the stuff I’ve been on? For my migraines? Like this one I had… it uhm… it did… I can’t think of the word right now… but it made me really stupid.”

“Speech arrest,” your boyfriend filled in for you, rubbing your back. “It didn’t make you stupid, baby, it made it hard for your brain to grab the right word when you would put sentences together. So your neuro reduced your dosage. That was the topiramate.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you nodded, swaying ever so slightly in your seat. “That’s the stuff that I can’t have with alcohol.”

“Correct.”

You poked the very tip of his nose. “Maybe you should just be my doctor, Channie.”

He grabbed your hand in a gentle hold. “Wrong kind of doctor. And I don’t even have my degree yet.”

“And I’m not a fish…”

He burst into soft chuckles at that. “No, no, you’re not.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or what, but your stomach was doing flip-flops as you looked at Sungchan’s smile, like you were on your first date again. Scooting your chair closer to his, you snuggled up to his side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Are you tired, baby?” He asked, his voice tinged with concern. “Ready to go home?”

“We can go home, I don’t care,” you shrugged. “But I’m not tired.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I just remembered that you’re my boyfriend, so I can do this like… whenever I want…” You clutched his arm to your chest.

“I can’t believe you’re both dopey, snuggly, cuddly drunks,” Ten commented from across the table, shaking his head. “I never want to see both of you intoxicated at the same time.”

“Yeah, I think God designed this perfectly, actually, so that you two can never be drunk together,” Hendery added, still picking at his food.

“He does work in mysterious ways.” Chenle put his hands together as if he were praying, making the others break out into snickers.

“Anyway, we’re about done for tonight. Everybody have a safe ride home that needs one?” Sungchan asked, pointing around to your friends. After getting a round of yeses and thumbs-ups, he encouraged you to your feet. You were stable, but there was no way you could have been doing any obstacle courses anytime soon.

Your friends took the next hour or so to say goodbye to you, all of them giving you hugs goodbye and one final congratulations in turn before passing you off to Sungchan to lead you out to the car. You and your boyfriend stopped by the hostess stand up front for him to pay off the tab for your whole table before you could finally leave for the night.

In the car, he helped you maneuver into the passenger seat, buckled you in, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before walking around to the driver’s side. You leaned your seat back so you could curl up comfortably and stare at Sungchan as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee as always.

“Are you mad at me?” You whispered, hating that your voice was already wavering.

Sungchan sighed, not even needing to ask what you meant. “Look, baby, obviously, I would rather you not have stopped taking the medication that prevents you from going through awful, horrible pain so that you could drink one time in order to celebrate that very same medication working so well that you hadn’t experienced that pain for a whole year but… I get that it’s your health and your life and you made an educated decision knowing the risks.”

“…That was passive aggressive.”

“You’re still a bit tipsy, baby. We can talk about it after you’ve slept it off, and slept off the hangover, and slept off the migraine that you’re definitely going to get, and the rebound headache that you’ll probably get too.”

“No. You say that you get that it’s my decision, but you clearly have an opinion on it. You’re my boyfriend, I value your opinion. So go ahead. Right now.”

“I just…” He took a deep breath. “I just don’t get the sudden interest in drinking, now. You never seemed to have an issue with being sober during undergrad because of your medication. Trust me, you’re really not missing out on anything.”

“Exactly, you’ve done it, so you know it’s not a big deal, because you have that experience.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I never got that. You heard Chenle; I never drank in high school because I figured I’d have plenty of time to drink responsibly when I was the legal age. And then I got diagnosed with these fucking migraines the same year, and got started on all this medicine that reacts with alcohol. And the whole time I have people who do drink reassuring me that I’m really not missing out on anything, all the while drinking right in front of me, constantly. Every time we go out to dinner, beers in the fridge, wine on the counter, mimosas at brunch, it’s everywhere, and yet I’m supposed to believe that I’m not missing out on anything?!”

Sungchan bit his lip. “I’m sorry—”

“Hold on, I’m not done.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t care that people do drink around me. Like, I don’t want you to stop keeping alcohol around the apartment after this just because of me, Sungchan,” you added pointedly. “I just wish people wouldn’t fucking lie to me about enjoying it, acting like they’re making me feel better. Like, I don’t think you have to drink alcohol to be an adult, but when you’re an adult who has had that choice taken away from them by some outside thing instead of making the decision for yourself, it’s a lot fucking different. And I just… having it happen at the same time as my diagnosis… I know my neuro said that they were chronic and it was a lifelong condition, but before it really sank in as to what that meant, and how long my entire life really was, I had this stupid little daydream about being like a real grown-up and going out for drinks with my grown-up friends to celebrate some grown-up achievement like a promotion or something. That I’d be off of all the stupid medication.”

There were a few beats of still air in the car before Sungchan spoke up. “Are you…?”

“No, one more thing.”

“Alright.”

“I know you care for me, Channie, I do. If there is one thing you have shown me in the past three years, it is that you love me, all of me, in sickness and in health, and it has been more often than not, in sickness.” You squeezed his hand that was still overtop your knee. “You know my medications and conditions better than I do at this point. Like, I’m glad you’re getting a degree in molecular biology and are studying a fish, because I think if you actually became a human doctor, you would dedicate yourself to figuring out how to swap our central nervous systems to take my migraines and put them on yourself.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded.

“Truly, I understand that that is how much you love me and want me to be well and never be in physical pain again. And I love and appreciate you for that so, so much. I know that it hurts you, on the inside, to see me in pain. It hurts me to see you in pain, too. Remember when you got the flu last year and had to be hospitalized for two days?” You squeezed your eyes shut against the awful memory. “I got a stress migraine and didn’t even tell you until now because I knew that would’ve made you feel worse. But I need you to understand that sometimes I’m looking at the bigger picture when it comes to this stuff. I’m going to have my migraines for the rest of my life. And maybe that means I go thirty years without one. Maybe it means I get one a month. Recently, I got a whole year. But there will always be the risk of one. Like, that’s just something I’ve had to accept, and you are going to have to accept.” You poked his arm, making him pout for a second. “So, the way I see it, is that I need to strike the right balance between preventing migraines, and living a life I actually enjoy. And part of living a life I actually enjoy includes doing stuff I’ve never done before, like drinking, and doing it in a way that decreases other risks as well, like medication interactions. And yeah, that put me at a higher risk for migraines, but I’m okay with that. I can deal with migraines, I’ve dealt with hundreds of them before. One more in exchange for a new experience was something I was willing to do this time. Do you get where I’m coming from now, baby?”

Having finally been prompted to talk, Sungchan answered, “Yeah, I understand. I should’ve tried to talk to you about this and see what it was actually about instead of just assuming. I’m sorry I was a dick at your celebratory dinner that I suggested in the first place.”

“I want you to be concerned for me, Channie.” You brought his hand up to kiss the back of it. “Need my guy to make sure I don’t do anything too stupid while trying to enjoy my life. But maybe in the future we can both approach it from a more conversational and inquisitive angle than we did this time, hm?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He glanced over at you to pat your head, smiling fondly. “My girl’s so smart, even when she’s tipsy and pissed off at me. I got so lucky.”

“I’m probably like, only a little buzzed right now… we spent a long time saying bye to everyone. And you made sure I ate, and drank water, and paced myself.”

“Guess we’ll find out in the morning.” He clicked his tongue teasingly, taking your hand in his again.

“Well…” You popped an over-the-counter headache reliever for the first time in years. “Now I get why they call it a migraine hangover.”

Sungchan chuckled, setting your breakfast down in front of you. “And how does a real hangover compare to a migraine hangover?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, picking up your fork. “My body feels yuckier, but my brain is working a lot better. Like, I’m pretty sure if I saw a puddle right now, I wouldn’t, in the heat of the moment, call it a ‘pile of water’ with my whole chest.”

Your boyfriend burst into laughter. “Pile of water?”

“Yeah, that one happened in one of Dr. Son’s classes,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and holding your head in one of your hands lazily. “Socratic discussion, so the entire class was focused on me and my insightful commentary on what I thought the pile of water represented in the story.”

“I’m sure it was very profound, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you scoffed, opening your eyes just enough to get your next bite of food onto your fork and lift it to your mouth.

The next day, you were more than recovered from your first hangover of your life, but worse off than before. Somehow, in that year without a migraine, you’d forgotten how bad they were. And now, they were back with a vengeance. You couldn’t, in the moment, think what number this would be on a comparative scale to all your others, but it sure as fuck felt like a 9/10 at least.

The blackout curtains in your bedroom were drawn shut, you had an eye mask pulled on, your ear plugs in, and had all of your usually lovely scent plug-ins removed from the room. It felt like the slightest sensory input set off gunfire in your brain, and you would let out an immediate, visceral yelp.

It had started soon after you woke up, meaning that Sungchan came home from the gym to find you curled up under the covers clutching your head, unable to even move to get your rescue meds—the ones that never worked in the first place. He’d been the one to shut the blackout curtains, find your long-unused eye mask, fetch your earplugs from your go bag, take out any artificially and/or strongly scented thing from the room, and prepare all of your medication for you to take in one blind, desperate gulp. He didn’t need to ask how you were doing—obviously, bad.

He climbed back in on his side of the bed, the two of you having worked out that you’d let him know if you needed more or less physical contact during some of the migraines. You always liked having him near, to feel less alone, but sometimes the extra sensations on your body just ended up being too much to handle in the moment. Whether it was body heat, or clothes wrinkling in the wrong places, or hair poking you, sometimes you were just extra on edge, and it did more harm than good.

Right now, you were laying on your front facing him, face buried into your pillow, one of your hands clasped with his and your joined hands cradled to your chest, a comforting, grounding pressure on your sternum. The only indication you had that Sungchan wasn’t asleep was when his thumb would run along yours every so often, a silent reassurance. You’d squeeze his hand back, letting him know you were still hanging in there, you didn’t need anything more, just him.

You must have eventually gone to sleep, as you were now waking up. The eye mask was slightly askew, and you rubbed at your eyes as you pulled it off all the way.

“Morning, beautiful,” Sungchan whispered, then pressed a button on his watch, lighting up the time for a split second. “Or, 6:00 p.m. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you groaned. Your earplugs had fallen out of your ears somewhere, but you would find those later. “But the migraine is finally fucking gone.”

“Good.”

“Ugh.” You dropped your head back down to your pillow. “I can’t believe that migraine lasted two and a half days.”

“I was going to carry you to the ER myself if you woke up and still had it.” Sungchan sat up, and one look at his face told you he was serious. “I can’t believe I let you talk me out of it after you hit the 36-hour mark last night.”

“I told you I just needed to sleep it off.”

“Yeah, for 20 hours straight.”

You winced, and the reminder of how long you had been out seemed to suddenly snap your body back to reality all at once. “I need to pee. Also, I’m hungry. And thirsty. Holy shit, my breath stinks. Actually, my everything stinks— Oh my God I need to pee!”

Quite literally jumping out of bed, your knees immediately buckled, and you dropped unceremoniously to the floor. “Fuck!”

“Woah, baby, you okay?” Sungchan scrambled to follow you, coming to kneel down beside you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Channie,” you reassured him with a sheepish smile, slowly sitting up. “My muscles were not ready for that.”

“You were just passed out for 20 hours straight,” he reminded you, tenderly fixing some of your hair. “And had a migraine for two and a half days. Take it easy for a bit, baby. And you’re about to start weaning back on your meds. Your body’s going to have a lot to get used to again for a while.”

“Those weren’t full doses you gave me earlier?” You asked curiously.

“Hell no,” he snorted. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“That’s what I would’ve done.”

“You’re fully weaned off all of them. Starting back at your full doses would just make all the side effects that you were managing even worse. It might even give you some that you didn’t have the first time you were taking them.”

Your mouth silently formed an ‘Oh,’ and you grabbed Sungchan’s arm. “Thank you, Channie. I… You shouldn’t have to… Thank you. I love you, and I would kiss you right now, but like I said, I really need to brush my teeth.”

He leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back, there was a warmth glowing in his brown eyes. “I love you, too, baby. And hey, we’re a team, okay? We’ve got to do all this stuff as a team, and that includes health. Your health and mine. You’re not only in charge of taking care of you and I’m only in charge of taking care of me, that’s not how it works. That would be so unfair. Imagine if you never came with me when I got my flu shots.”

“Who would hold your hand?”

“Exactly.”

“But I feel like holding your hand once a year isn’t really comparable to this…”

“My point is that we’re a team, which means we share the tough stuff with each other, so everything isn’t on one person’s shoulders. You have a chronic illness, baby. You have to deal with all the pain, and medication side effects, and everything that I can never take from you no matter how much I wish I could. So let me pick up your meds from the pharmacy, and find you fun new band-aids for your injection, and keep a snack on me since you never will, and learn as much as I possibly can about this.”

“Okay, I get your point.” You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them to look at him. “How do you always know the right stuff to say to make me feel better, Channie?”

“I don’t always. I didn’t the other night at dinner,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I mean, you usually do when it comes to this stuff, with my migraines. You always…” you sniffed, your vision watering and growing blurry. “You always say all this nice stuff, and it’s not just talk, you really mean it too, I see it in how you act, what you do. Just… how are you… in love with me?”

“Y/N, baby,” Sungchan scooted over to take you into his arms, fully enveloping you with his body as you suddenly devolved into hiccupping sobs into his shirt. “You’re exhausted, right?”

You nodded against him, feeling how absolutely drained you were to your very core, despite the 20 straight hours you had just slept.

He hugged you even tighter to him. “Listen. I’m not going to list out a bunch of reasons that I love you, because I think that’ll just do more harm than good. So I’ll tell you this: I love you because I do. Because everything single thing I’ve ever found out about you, good or bad, has only made me more crazy about you.”

You started crying harder, clinging to him tightly, and he rubbed your back all through it.

“I-I’m so tired, Channie,” you mumbled into his collar, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand.

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I really need to pee…”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[lotusconstellation]

“Shy Confessions” Pt. 1

Reborn Sun Wukong x Gn Reader

Story by: @queenofroses22

Written by: Lotus_Constallation

When hearing about the great tales of Journey to the West, you’ll often hear the stories of the great and all-mighty Monkey King, also known as Sun Wukong. The great sage equal to heaven, the celestial monkey that was born from a stone and set off to cause mayhem amongst anyone that crossed his path without any concern or hesitation.

You would also hear about the laughingstock of heaven and, honestly, of hell as well. The tales of Zhu Bajie, also known as Pigsy, a man who used to be a heaven official but made the mistake of refusing to believe he’s lightweight when it comes to alcohol, leading to his banishment and being cursed to be a pig demon for all eternity.

It’s also no doubt that you would hear about Tang Sanzang, formally known as Tripitaka, the powerful yet peaceful monk who had set off to fulfill his destiny!

There is also Sha Wujing, also known as Sandy, there’s not much about him but everyone knows he’s a water demon who fought courageously.

And finally, Ao Lie, the white dragon horse, who was also disguised as a white horse for Tripitaka to ride on while they make the hellish adventure to get those scriptures.

All of the people I have listed so far are very obviously well known. Some more than others. All have backstories worth mentioning even if there isn’t much. However, what if I told you there was one other person who, too, followed the demons and the monk on their journey, but you won’t find them in any stories. Not even a brief mention of their name. And that’s because this person was no one special. I apologize profusely, but those are the words I’ve heard from time and time again when I would ask why this person isn’t written down in history like the rest.

Surely, if they were a part of The Journey and were brave enough to follow the rest down the path of chaos and destruction, with a high risk of death, and trusting your life with 3 demons, that in itself is special, no? Unfortunately, people don’t see it that way. If you do not have some sort of spectacular fact about yourself that would capture the eyes of a dozen citizens, then you are nothing but a worthless little pebble under someone’s shoe. It’s a harsh reality.

However, that is why I am here! I am here to tell the tales of {Full Name}, Whether people like it or not, Because I firmly believe that they too deserve to be written down in history, just like the rest! And who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two, but enough chit-chat, Let us begin!

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

This story starts with a small village that sits just at the bottom of a mountain. And on this mountain, lived a vicious demon.

The demon had been around for what felt like centuries, and often loved to cause havoc amongst the town’s people. The demon would poison the soil so nothing would grow, destroy stalls, steal from said stalls, smear mud and dirt on any clean laundry, and would run people over with a mysterious carriage. People of the village constantly prayed and prayed to any god to take care of this demon, but upstairs always remained silent. Eventually, after realizing that no one was going to save them, they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Chaos could be heard from a mile away as the townspeople shouted over each other.

“We must slay this demon!” Someone from the crowd shouted.

“With what?! Pitchforks and dainty knives? We’ve all seen what this demon is capable of, what we have won’t do shit!” Another one rebutted.

Throughout all this chaos, a rather average looking person stood off to the side, trying to share what they had to say, but their hushed voice was drowned out by all the other booming voices in the room. It’s quite funny, really. This person, {Name}, spent– heaven knows how many hours practicing what they were going to say, was also the first few to show up, only to be pushed into a corner. And no matter how much they tried to step through the crowd or raise their voice, all their attempts were futile. Eventually, {Name} let out a heavy sigh, before making their way through the crowd to leave through the front door.

Upon stepping outside, {Name} felt the spring breeze gently caress their skin, they inhaled deeply, letting the faint smell of blossoms ease their mind. It was a rather peaceful evening, despite all the ruckus going on in the house behind them. The air wasn’t too hot or too cold, flowers were starting to blossom from all around, the petals and their scent being carried by the wind, and the sun was just starting to set over the horizon, with the skies becoming a mixture of blue, orange, and a dash of red. Honesty, all of it was a sight to see, but sadly, everyone was too frightened to pay it any mind. Who could blame them though, really. With this demon who’s caused nothing but constant dilemmas and chaos for heaven knows how long, it’s no wonder everyone here would be in distress all the time.

{Name} sighed heavily once more before rubbing their temples, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. All the commotion, and the sudden sound of glass breaking was truly starting to get on their nerves. Unfortunately, however, it had always been like this, whenever the town’s people would try to talk about getting rid of this demon, it always ended up getting physical, and In the end, getting nowhere. Honestly, all of it was ridiculous and {Name} was starting to get irritated by it. I mean, that’s why they attempted to be a part of this meeting in the first place. They thought maybe, just maybe, they could take some initiative and try to have everyone think rationally for once, and not be so hostile and rowdy.

Though, I guess looking back on it now, it was stupid to think someone so bashful and run-of-the-mill as them, could make a difference. If they can’t even fake the confidence to take matters into their own hands. Then hell, what good are they? The thought alone made them feel…useless. {Name} tilts their head back, in a poor attempt to keep the tears from falling. However, the tears trickled down their face regardless. Embarrassed by their current state, {Name} took off towards the direction of a nearby forest. They didn’t know where they were going, they didn’t think of how close it was to nightfall. All they could think about was getting to a safe place to let out their woes without any judgment.

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

The labored villager continued to run throughout the unfamiliar territory, making impetuous twists and turns for heaven knows how long, trying their best to jump over fallen logs and moss covered rocks, and unaware of their ankles getting little cuts from open thorns and sticks.

{Name} continued on until they found a spot behind a tree, sinking down to the floor as they finally let go of all their sorrows. They didn’t want to continue living like this; Living in constant distress, with nothing ever being solved because everyone was already so stressed out and exhausted from this blasted demon. I mean, what did the people in the village ever do to him? Why must he keep coming back to attack everyone — even children? Is there some sort of unknown history we were all unaware of? Does the demon know something we don’t?

Whatever the case may be, {Name} just wanted it all to end. They couldn’t take another second of living in that village; where the people do nothing but scream and yell at each other and don’t take a second to just think rationally. There needs to be a change before this demon eventually gets bored of terrorizing everyone and does something worse. {Name} wanted to be that change. But they were foolish enough to think that would ever happen. “Why?” {Name} spoke. Their voice low and raspy from crying so much. They looked up at the starry night sky, unable to realize just how long they’ve been crying for. “Why must this happen to us? What did we ever do?” {Name} honestly didn’t know who they were talking to, or if they were even talking to someone at all. Hell, it would be a blessing in itself if their voice was even loud enough to reach anyone. “We have done everything. Prayed, made offerings, dedicated ourselves to you,” {Name’s} voiced a little louder, their face contorted with anger. “So why do you choose to ignore our pleas? Are we simply not worth your time?” A gentle breeze passed by, but {Name} paid it no mind as they waited for a response, a voice. A comforting breeze will do no good, it will not just magically make up for the constant neglect from the Heaven’s. {Name} knows they shouldn’t dare think this way, they know such thoughts would poison their soul, but they felt like they deserve some sort of proper response from someone. Their childhood had been damaged because of this vile creature, they watched as their parents went from kind and caring folks to aggressive and hostile ones. They used to welcome {Name} with loving arms, often trying to encourage them to be more confident in themselves, to not be afraid to stand up for what was right. But slowly, over the years, they started getting more…aggressive and uncaring towards {Name}.

Out of respect, I will not mention the things they have done. Though, I will say that it unfortunately got to the point where {Name} had become very skilled in tending to wounds.

The lonesome village felt another tear prick at the corner of their eyes, their head dropped as the fresh set of tears left little stains on their clothes. Please, just send someone, anyone, to take care of this demon. I would do anything in return, I promise.

…

The rapid crackling of leaves suddenly reverberated around the forest, {Name} nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard it. The lonesome villagers quickly wiped the remaining tears from their face before attempting to see the source of the noise.

From where they were, they managed to see a tall, humanoid figure running as fast as they could, the figure was wearing all black colored clothing so they could’ve easily blended in with the night. The only reason {Name} could see them was because of another figure dressed in all white colored clothing that was lazily thrown over the other one’s shoulder.

“WUKONG!! SAVE ME!!” The person in white yelled.

Without thinking, {Name} got up from their spot and started chasing after the strangers to the best of their ability. Their name wasn’t Wukong, but regardless the stranger was in trouble.

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

The figure dressed in black was fast, {Name} will tell you that. The figure was jumping around while also making unexpected turns—which threw {Name} off a bit—all while the person in white continued to cry out to someone named Sun Wukong. Which, {Name} had no idea who that was, but they’re assuming Sun Wukong is this guy’s friend. Though, what’s a bit strange is that this guy, despite crying out for help, made little to no effort to fight against the person who was holding him captive.

After what felt like hours, {Name} managed to follow the figure to a cave that was located at the top of the mountain. {Name} heaved while trying to force themselves to walk further up the steep hill. Once at the top, they leaned up against the entrance of the cave, trying to catch their breath. “I wasn’t built for this shit,” they thought.

A moment or two had passed before {Name} looked further into the cave, borrowing the faint moonlight, {Name) couldn’t help but sigh in awe.

The cave was covered in foliage, with a few small waterfalls that flowed down from a few openings in the walls, and the moonlight only gave the place an ethereal glow.

(Artist: Unknown. Source: Pinterest).

{Name} was astonished, never in their life have they ever seen something as elegant as this. It all made {Name} ponder about their own life choices. From their younger years, there were always these rowdy kids who always dismissed the adults' concerns and went as far as they wanted into the woods. The kids offered for {Name} to join them one time, but they timidly refused. Now looking back on it, Perhaps it wouldn’t have hurt to accept their offer.

After what felt like an incense time, {Name} carefully moved towards the cave, the light from the moon slowly warning the further they went, relying on the tiny luminous blue flowers that scattered throughout the cave. As time passed, {Name} couldn’t help but grow more nervous. I mean, what were they going to do? How were they going to save this stranger from someone who could be armed and is undoubtedly stronger then {Name} was, when just prior they were sitting in the dark crying because they can’t even get their voice to go up an octave or two.

Honestly, the smartest thing to do would’ve been to go search for this “Wukong” guy but nOoOo, they just had to prove themselves.

Sighing heavily, {Name} continued on, trying to ease their mind by taking in the scenery. Whoever that black-clad man was, and as horrible as it sounds, {Name} was glad this was the place the man led them to. While they walked, they suddenly came to an opening with a bunch of stone staircases leading in all different directions, leading to multiple different rooms. {Name} was about to walk past it before a rather rejoiceful voice echoed throughout the room. “How lucky, How lucky I am today!!” {Name’s} blood ran cold, they recognized that voice. It was the demon. {Name} had followed the demon back to where he lived!

…

Shit.

End of part 1!

I really hope you and Queen enjoyed it. I can’t guarantee when the next part will be out, but keep an eye out 👁️

Love you all!!

[brienneoftarth1989]

“Please, if you can, make one where Larissa doesn’t know, but the reader is too weak to drink, and when she gets drunk, touch Larissa and she takes responsibility for inviting the reader for a few glasses of wine, and just let her passion secret to touch her however you want. Larissa has a penis” - G4bE train wreck on A03

I Need Your Touch NSFW

Larissa Weems x fem reader

Summary: you are such a lightweight when it comes to drinking but you couldn’t turn the opportunity down when Larissa invites you to her office for a couple of glasses of wine. The drinks go straight to your head and your touchy side comes out.

Warnings: shifted cock, cunnilingus, teasing, fingering, soft, mentions of alcohol, smut

Request open

———————————

You have been working at Nevermore Academy for a little under a year now. As an outcast yourself you never thought you would be able to find a teaching job where you could express your true identity. That was until you found Nevermore. You immediately checked to see if there were any vacancies and low and behold there was.

You applied for one of the jobs that you would be suitable for and a few weeks later you were working at the new school. You had a very close relationship with your students and your colleagues but there was one person you just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. The Principal herself just wouldn’t leave your mind.

You also believed that Larissa had also caught on to how you felt about her. At first you would be able to gaze and admire her from a distance and not get caught but now everytime you even look in her direction she always seems to know you're watching. You always get caught.

Then the flirting started. As your friendship grew closer and stronger the level of flirting increased. At first it started out with the occasional long glances and the odd lingering touch when your hands accidentally touched. But now it’s the constant lip biting when you are around each other as well as the lingering touches becoming more frequent as well as lasting longer than is appropriate for ‘friends’.

Although this behaviour continued to this very day neither of you have done anything about it. You both seem to be keeping things entirely professional, scared that you both might cross each other's boundaries. That was until one fateful day.

The school day had officially ended and you were sitting in your classroom checking your emails and grading some work that you needed to give back to your students tomorrow in class. You had a couple of emails from students which you responded to first. Most of them just ask questions about the assignments you had set for them. You always prioritise your students as you want them to do well.

You then check the emails from your colleagues. One of them was emailing over the plans for an upcoming school outing and the other was talking about a change in the timetable and they just wanted to clarify with you that it was right. You then refresh your emails to see no new ones come through. Happy with the lack of new emails you closed your laptop and started grading your students' work.

After about 45 minutes of marking their work you heard your phone bing. You grabbed your phone and had a quick glance at the notification. It was from gmail informing you of a new notification. You sighed as you placed your phone back on your desk and opened your laptop back up.

You open your emails to see the new email had in fact come from Larissa. You face lit up immediately and you were quick to open the email to see what it said.

Evening y/n,

Hope all is going well. I have a spare evening tonight and a couple bottles of wine that I won’t finish myself. So I was wondering if you would like to join me?

Don’t feel obligated to come but if you would like to come see me come meet me in my office at 20:00 this evening. I hope to see you soon.

Larissa x

All you could do was smile to yourself. Thee Larissa Weems has invited you to her office this evening for a glass or twice of wine. This was the first time Larissa had invited you to her office after hours so you didn’t really know what to expect. Either way though you were excited and looking forward to the evening ahead of you.

You closed your laptop and finished marking the work that you were currently working on. You placed the remainder of the students' work in the top drawer of the desk before grabbing your laptop and locking up your classroom for the evening.

You then made your way to your room to get ready for the evening ahead of you. It was currently 18:00 which meant you had two hours to get yourself sorted and ready before heading to see Larissa. What were you even supposed to wear? You didn’t even know if this was something friendly or something more.

You definitely didn’t want to overdress but at the same time you didn’t want to underdress. This was definitely going to be a long evening especially if you were reading this all wrong. You decided to have a quick shower which meant you had time to think about what you wanted to wear.

Before you jumped in the shower you played one of your spotify playlists on shuffle. The first song that came on was Long Live. The songs continued to shuffle as you washed your hair and did your skin care routine. Once out of the shower you went to go and dry your hair. You styled it so it was half up and half down letting the waves of your hair really show. Once your hair was done you did some light makeup before making your way to your wardrobe to choose an outfit.

After having a look at the range of clothes in the wardrobe and trying a few on you finally decided to go with a white button up tank top, some black ripped skinny jeans and a dark green raglan open front cardigan. You then paired the outfit a black round buckle belt. You then had a quick glance in the mirror to confirm you were happy with your final choice.

The only thing you could do was smile in the mirror. You loved it and you knew that Larissa definitely was going to love your outfit. You just hope that you weren’t reading this all wrong. You glanced over at the clock and it was now 19:30. Alright you had half an hour to kill so you chilled on your phone scrolling through social media.

The time went by relatively quickly and before you knew it was 19:55. You grabbed your phone and had one final glance in the mirror making sure you still looked good. You locked the door to your room before making your way to Larissa’s office. It didn’t take long to feel the butterflies start to build up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside the doors to Larissa’s office. You knocked on the large oak doors and waited for Larissa to allow you into her space. “Come in y/n” you heard Larissa speak from the otherside of the door. You opened the door and walked into her glorious office.

The sight in front of you was absolutely breathtaking. Larissa sat on her fabric sofa in front of the fireplace with two glasses and two bottles of wine. Larissa looked over at you and all she could do was smile at you. “Come sit y/n, these bottles of wine aren’t going to drink themselves” she giggled slightly.

You walked over to Larissa and sat down on the sofa leaving a respectable amount of space between the two of you. She poured you both a drink before leaning back into her sofa. “So how have you been today?” she asked you.

You had a sip of your drink before answering her question. “I’ve had a relatively good day. My students got on with their work, all their assignments were handed in on time for once, I got a lot of my marking done and now I’m sitting here with you so I can quite easily say I've had a great day. How has your day been though?” you asked as you had another sip of wine.

“My day has been quite stressful trying to organise the upcoming school outings but I’m definitely glad you decided to join me for a glass of wine tonight. It will definitely keep my mind distracted from this work load” she laughed slightly.

“Haha I definitely know that feeling and I'm definitely glad you invited me to your office for a glass of wine. It’s nice to be able to hang out after work and not have it be work related” you said to Larissa as you glanced over to her.

The night continued on and one glass turned into another which turned into another. This was such a bad idea yet you were having such a great time. It wasn’t very often that you drank alcohol so when you did it normally went straight to your head. You also learnt that when you did get drunk you had a habit of getting very touchy with the person you were with.

You had no ill intentions, it's just that physical touch is your love language and it was your way of expressing that and there was definitely a very high chance of that happening tonight considering you were drunk and with Larissa who you had an extreme crush on. As the evening went on you found yourself getting closer and closer to Larissa.

The flirting was clear as day now and Larissa could tell that the alcohol had gone straight to your head. Did she really care? No but that was because she was also tipsy. The difference between the two of you was that Larissa could handle her drinks a lot better which meant she had a clearer head than you did.

As you had somehow made your way next to Larissa you decided to test the waters and rest your head on her shoulder. All Larissa could do was giggle at your boldness. She shuffled slightly before wrapping her arm around your body letting you huddle into her body. You sighed knowing that Larissa was allowing you to do this.

You decided to test the waters further as you let your hand travel down to hers tracing circles over the top of her hand. While you did this you turned your head slightly so you were to leave little kisses over her shoulder. You ever so slowly made your way further up her arm so you were leaving kisses on her neck.

Larissa adjusted her neck ever so slightly allowing you more room to continue what you were doing. As you continued to kiss her neck you let your hand move from her hand so it was now resting on one of her breasts. You started to massage her breast as you started to leave hickies on Larissa’s neck.

Larissa had not said anything. She hadn’t told you to stop and you took it all as a good sign. As you continued to touch the woman in front of you Larissa started to let out small whimpers due to the pleasure you were giving her. You were enjoying every moment of this and decided to test the water further. You let your hand slowly travel down her body so it was now resting just above her waist.

You were about to let your hand travel down further so you could lift up her dress slightly but she grabbed your hand leaving you frozen in place. Did she not want this? Have you done something wrong? Even though you were still very much drunk you could start to feel your mind start to sober up a little.

You looked up to see what was going on. You were half expecting Larissa to be looking down at you with disgust but she was giving you this care filled look instead. “What’s the matter?” you asked Larissa. “Nothing darling. Nothing at all but your drunk darling. I want this to happen trust me I do but we should both be in sober minds. I would hate for this to happen and then you regret it the next morning.

All you could let out a small whimper. You wanted Larissa so desperately. You wanted to ravish her and make her feel things that only you could provide her but instead she wanted to wait. You understood why but in the moment you didn’t really care, you just wanted her.

“I tell you what, how about we spend the night together, but just sleeping and maybe cuddling. If you still feel the same way tomorrow then we will do something about it. How does that sound?” she said to you. All you could do was sigh before giving her a response. “That sounds like a plan” you smiled before giving her a light peck on the lips.

Larissa responded to your kiss immediately. It didn’t take long before you ended up in her lap having a full on make out session. The kiss was passionate and you could spend the whole evening in her embrace. You were hoping that it would lead onto something more but it didn’t. Just as you were gonna let your hands wander her body she stopped you. “Come on you, let's get you to bed” she said, scooping you up and bringing you to her bedroom.

Larissa stripped you of your clothing leaving you in your undergarments before then putting one of her t-shirts on you. It was more like a dress on you but you were too drunk to really notice. Larissa got you to lay down in bed before putting the duvet over the both of you. As soon as your head hit the pillow you were out for the count. Nothing was going to wake you until morning.

Larissa laid in bed next to you just watching you sleep. How she wanted to spend the night properly with you it just wasn’t something she was able to do especially as you were both intoxicated. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you woke up the next morning regretting it all. It wasn’t long before Larissa fell asleep next to you holding you in a tight hug which caused you to unconsciously smile.

The next morning came round quicker than you both could imagine. You were the first to awake due to being blinded by the sunlight that was coming through the window. You groaned slightly not enjoying being woken up by this awful light. You turned over to get away from the sun to come face to face with a sleeping Larissa.

She was beautiful. She had no makeup on and her beautiful blonde hair was cascading down covering part of her face. All you could do was smile at the beautiful sight in front of you remembering everything that happened last night. You may get drunk quite quickly but 9 times out of 10 you always seemed to remember the night before.

You were definitely glad that you didn’t do anything last night just in case. You think it was more for Larissa’s peace of mind rather than anything else but now all you really wanted to do was show her the pleasure she was missing out on last night. You slowly leaned closer to her stroking the hair that was covering her face out of her way and tucking it behind her ear.

Your delicate touch caused the woman in front of you to start to stir in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open causing a smile to be plastered on her face when she saw you. “Morning darling” she whispered to you. “Morning” you smirked back at her just admiring the sight in front of you. “What are you smirking at? Do you even remember anything from last night? You had a lot to drink darling and you were pretty drunk” she said sitting up slightly.

“Oh I remember everything and I definitely remember you saying we would do something about this if I still remembered. So if it’s alright with you I would love to show you what you were missing out on last night” you said smirking as you lifted Larissa t-shirt over your head and chucking onto the floor.

Larissa moaned at the sight of you before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you body so you were both lying against each other. Larissa gently cupped your face before bringing you into a gentle kiss. The kiss was just as passionate as the night before. You also cupped Larissa’s face as your lips moved in sync. It was like they were meant to be together like a piece missing from a jigsaw puzzle.

The longer the two of you kissed the more desperate you both became for one another and there were too many pieces of clothing that were separating the two of you. You let your hands travel down her body grabbing the hem of her silk pyjama top before lifting it over her head.

You separated for a brief moment as the fabric stopped you both from kissing but it didn’t take long for your lips to find each other. You moaned into the kiss as you let you handle travel down her bare chest. As you massaged her breasts her hands travelled around your body lifting her shirt off your body before then unclasping your bra.

This whole time the only time the two of you stopped kissing was to breathe but just like drugs the two of you were addicted to one another and you never wanted to come down from this high. You pulled away from the kiss before resting your forehead on hers before gazing into her eyes. “Why did you stop?” she panted.

“Because there are so many other places I want to kiss other than your lips” you said smirking at the woman in front of you. You pulled back ever so slightly moving Larissa’s hair out of the way of her neck before leaving a couple of open mouth kisses on her neck before letting you tongue run the length of her neck from her collarbone to her jawline.

Larissa moaned at this action before adjusting her neck further to allow you to do whatever you pleased. You licked around her jawline before kissing her chin before gazing into her eyes and giving her another small kiss on her lips. Larissa was desperate to return the favour as she pushed you back ever so slightly so she could then repeat what you did to her on yourself.

As she did this she massaged your breasts which caused you to moan and whimper ever so slightly at her touch. Larissa left plenty of open mouth kisses in the crook of your neck as she continued to worship your body with her hands. Instinctively you were doing everything in your power to bring her as close to you as possible even though that was becoming near enough impossible.

You smiled at one another as Larissa worshipped your body. You decided that you have had enough in this position so you flipped the two of you around. You quickly removed your panties before sitting back down on the bed before having Larissa straddle your lap. You let your hands travel down her back before cupping at her arse and squeezing the hell out of it. This caused her to buck her hips and grind down into you which you definitely weren’t complaining about.

You couldn’t take it much longer with Larissa kissing your neck and having her grind down into your body. You needed to feel her, you needed to taste her, you just needed everything about her. You moved Larissa so she was now laying next to you allowing yourself to lay next to her so you were laying on your side. You nuzzled into the crook of her next once more as you let your hand travel down her body. Your hand slowly made its way down her torso over the patch of blonde curls and right to her hard throbbing clit.

You lazily drew circles over her throbbing clit watching her squirm under your touch. You continued to torture her clit before slowly rubbing the tip of your finger over her entrance slowly pushing a single digit in. Larissa gasped as you entered her. “Fuck y/n, please fuck me” she moaned out.

You complied with the tall beauty as you slowly started to pump your finger in and out of her. As you did this you rested your head on her chest and slowly started to tease her nipples with your tongue. She was a moaning mess and you could tell she was getting close. You could feel her walls clenching around your fingers.

You looked up at Larissa. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my fingers, I want to be able to lick them clean for you”. Your words sent Larissa into overdrive causing her to immediately cum all over your fingers. You let her ride out her orgasm before slowly pulling your fingers from her. You placed your fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. All Larissa could do was look at you as she came down from her high.

“Why don’t I get my strap? I would love for you to dominate me” you said to Larissa as you crawled up her body. As you sat down on her lap you felt something hard poking at you. You looked down to see a girthy 8 inch cock attached to the woman in front of you. “Oh I don’t need a strap. One advantage of being a shift shifter darling” she smirked as she lined her cock up with your aching cunt slowly pushing herself inside of you.

You gasped as she pushed herself fully inside. “Fuck Larissa your so big. Let me adjust to you” you moaned as you huddled into her neck. After a minute of letting your body adjust, Larissa ever so slowly started to thrust up into your aching core. This felt amazing and you never wanted it to stop. “Faster Larissa!” you moaned into her ear.

Larissa immediately increased her pace as she thrusted up into you. You sat back as you rested your hands on each leg. The sight Larissa must have right now watching as her cock disappears in and out of you. You threw your head back as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you getting close, baby?” she asked you. All you could do was moan out a somewhat coherent yes. “So I am a baby. Let's cum together. I can feel you getting close, I can feel you clenching around my throbbing cock. Cum for me baby! Cum all over me” she started screaming.

It was Larissa’s words that sent you over the edge. You screamed her name as you came which caused Larissa to release her load deep inside of you causing you to gasp as you felt her feel you up. You both slowly road out the orgasm before coming to a stop.

Laissa slipped out of you before shifting her anatomy back. You laid down to the woman next to you. “That was amazing Larissa. I knew I wouldn't regret anything” you whispered as you cuddled up next to her. “I know darling. How about we just chill and watch films for the rest of the day. For once I don’t have any important business to attend to” she laughed ever so slightly.

So that was exactly what you did, cuddled up together watching horror films and snacking on junk food.

[hirocimacruiser]

FD3S

Fully armed with Veilside Aero, powerful

Fully certified aero FD3S

I said, ``It's a rotary after all.''

I often hear voices. That's right,

Rotary has a unique feel that reciprocating doesn't have. It feels like it's spinning, but tuning is easy and the effect is great.

That's one of its charms.

After changing to FD, the engine

became a sequential twin turbo, and the power in the high rotation range became much more exciting. The combination of a completely lightweight body and a powerful engine means there's no need for more power. When it comes to FD class, initially

It would be a good idea to spend money on aero and suspension parts instead of engine tune. Therefore, we recommend this Veilside full aero FD. After all, it has a beautiful finish, just like the demo car at the shop. The silver body and suspiciously glowing aero parts create an indescribable atmosphere. Properly set aero

is cool. This FD has a normal engine,

An ARC cleaner box is attached to the intake, and it is equipped with a boost meter, Apex muffler, etc. The boost meter is embedded in the A-pillar, but since the boost is not being increased, there should be no need to worry about engine trouble.

When looking for an FD, it is safe to buy a dress-up tuned car like this one and then tune the engine yourself. Also, Aero is quite expensive to buy new, so it's like this.

It can be said that used cars are a bargain.

PIC CAPTIONS

●The interior looks just like when it was new, and you can't believe it's a 4-year-old model. Other than the boost meter built into the A-pillar, there are no noticeable changes to the car.

●The engine is completely normal, and the air cleaner has been changed to an ARC one. The FD is quite powerful even in normal condition, so it's a good idea to hone your skills before tuning the engine.

●Of course, the powerful VeilSide Full Aero is officially certified. This huge rear spoiler is also beautifully finished to match the FD's supple body lines.

INFO BOX

Infini RX-7

1992 model, inspection date October 9th

Mileage 19,000km 2,580,000 yen

Tune data: Veilside

Full aero kit

MOMO Steering

boost meter

Apex muffler

ARC air cleaner

- Blitz Blow Off Valve

GET 8 stage shock

Modena 17 inch Aluminum

SHOP INFO

Rabin Corporation

1-2-2 Shibahara-cho, Toyonaka-shi, Osaka 560

06-846-7864

Most of the FDs and FCs we handle have normal engines. We don't want any problems to arise after the customer has purchased the product. SA22C is also always in stock.

[kenrik]

Do you know a song by CreepHyp that was released in 2013 (Sayonara Utahime)? I saw someone mention it here on Tumblr, and I was surprised. Like, doesn’t it seem related to Gojohime? Also, Utahime’s CT was based on a song, and that song (by Akina Nakamori) is about love too.

I know that song. And it's creeping me out how accurately it could depict them. Two harmless character info in their official record -- lightweight and likes beer/drinking?? Utahime's name?? The message of the song???? 2013 release????? We know Gege-san likes his music. This song could very well have helped him build the relationship of Gojo Satoru and Iori Utahime. I maintain what I keep saying - of all the characters, Utahime is the most primed to break Satoru's heart.

Yuta--Rika

Suguru--Riko

Maki--Mai

Yuuji--Nobara

Megumi--Tsumiki

We know. WE KNOW Gege-san incorporates this type of relationship into the PROTAGONISTS' stories. GOJO is not just a protagonist. He is JJK.

From his best friend, to his students, HE IS A FULL CHARACTER. It's been DEFINITIVELY SHOWN in 236 that he still has a character flaw the manga still hasn't addressed --- that he only cares about strength and himself. Love and caring for others --- NADA. ZILCH. WHEN WE KNOW HE DOES CARE AND LOVE HIS PEERS AND STUDENTS COME ON.

A deeper relationship than what we know between Utahime and Satoru -- at their hour of need -- is most set up to SHOCK the readers. We never see her. Satoru always makes fun of her. The ONLY time we see them serious together was during Gojo's entry with hollow purple. Imagine if we actually get to see the depth of how their relationship has progressed through the years -- from that childhood bickering to going into the battlefield as a unit.

I'm not a gouta shipper for nothing!!!

[highqueenofelfhame]

a/n: if you've been here for awhile or read through my masterlist, you might remember this one. it became a fan favorite but it was written when i first entered the fandom and there have been things i wanted done differently. things i wanted to rewrite or write better. so i'm doing it. it'll be the same story you love, if you love it, just better, longer, more thought out. a lot will stay the same but alot will change. if yu're wondering what the fuck i'm talking about, a rough version of this story exits on my masterlist titled "all i ask of you." anyway. i hope you enjoy this.

rowaelin // 5.8k words // masterlist

Sweat trickled in little streams down his back, gluing the tan, standard-issue shirt he wore to every dip and curve of his torso. On most assignments, Rowan Whitethorn didn't mind his uniform. Generally speaking, the material was lightweight enough in most climates that they stayed comfortable. The boots were heavy, sure, but they were comfortable. 

In the middle of the desert, he hated all of it. The best time of the day was when he took it off to duck under a cold shower, then crawled into bed in nothing but his undershorts. Unfortunately for him, that was a long way off. The sun scorched them to the bone, and the slight breeze did nothing but send sand whirling through the air. 

When Rowan got out of the Red Desert, he never wanted to see a single grain of sand ever again. 

He walked down the street to the two small houses they used as a base. If anything, they were more akin to rundown shacks in a shanty town, but it worked. One was used for communications, and all their tech was set up throughout various rooms. They took turns on night watch, monitoring the cameras and comms for anything that looked amiss. 

The other house was where they ate, bathed, and slept. Nobody had a semblance of privacy here, save for the shitty little bathroom. All the men but Lorcan doubled up in the rooms and slept on glorified cots every night, often mumbling to their roommates to stop tossing and turning. Their beds tended to creak and groan with every subtle movement. On bad days, tension soared until they inevitably went outside to beat each other senseless in the form of hand-to-hand combat practice.

The houses were on the outskirts of an impoverished chunk of land that couldn't even be considered a village at this point, though once upon a time, it had been a well-populated township. Now there were just rundown buildings and dilapidated houses that people crammed into for shelter. Less than two thousand people remained living in the desolate stretch of desert. All of them were skin and bones, the malnourished ghosts of who they used to be. 

Over their last few months of being abandoned in the Red Desert, they learned that the breadwinners of the family, usually men, pedaled bicycles to the surrounding towns for work. A few of them were forced to walk, which was a feat in itself– the closest town was ten miles away and would take them well over two hours to arrive. Rowan had also learned, mainly from the children, that the ones that walked stayed in cheap inns during the week if they could afford it. Everything else was funneled into food and any other necessities they required, including running water that they really only used to cook and bathe.

Most of the women homeschooled their children to the best of their ability. Generally, they could read, write, and perform basic math. Much else was lost due to the lack of accessible tools for anything beyond that. Rowan had an intense respect for the people that dwelled here and did their best with what they had. 

On the other hand, he could kill every government official who continued to leave these people behind. There was no excuse for such an extreme display of poverty in this day and age. It was made worse by how kind the people were. They lived in the worst conditions they had ever seen, yet still found joy in the little things.

Case in point: a few of the kids that Rowan gave the candy from his MREs to were chasing a soccer ball around the makeshift pitch Fenrys had built for them. He and his twin brother, Connall, were playing with the gaggle of teenage boys and girls, their bright laughter chipping away at his frozen heart. It had been long since anything had threatened to thaw his frozen core, but those children whooping and hollering got to him.

Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, shaking his head but offering a tight smile when they shouted for him to join them. If Lorcan hadn't summoned him, he probably would have. They had done a fat lot of nothing today besides trying to stay out of the sun. Rowan had only left the communications house less than an hour ago to stretch his legs. 

Once inside, he found Lorcan sitting at the desk in the room they considered their office. It wasn't much more than a couple of chairs and a folding table, but it got the job done. Rowan rapped his knuckles against the door frame as he entered and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. 

"You wanted to see me?" There was no point in bothering with formalities unless people outside the Cadre were around. They rarely pulled rank amongst themselves. Rowan was second in command, but they usually viewed it as a partnership more than anything else.

"Yep," Lorcan exhaled, putting his pen down and bracing his arms on the edge of the table. Every muscle in his face was tense, down to the feathering of his jaw as he eyed Rowan. This didn't bode well. Whatever he was about to say wasn't good. There was no light hiding in the shadows of his dark eyes. Lorcan had a shit poker face when it came to bad news. With a jerk of his chin, he added, "Sit down." 

"What happened?" Rowan slid into one of the folding chairs across from him and braced his hands on his knees. 

 "We're going to be a team of six again, starting tomorrow morning." That was all? That didn't seem like the tragedy he looked ready to drop on Rowan's head. 

They used to be a group of six until Gavriel retired last year, and they still weren't used to being down to five men. While each of them brought forth their strengths and balanced out their weaknesses, an even number of people made things easier on missions because everyone could be paired off into two teams. During their last few, they had all wished for that extra body. Having another person would be great, especially if he was skilled enough to keep up with the rest of them. 

Though several special ops units existed in the Terrasen Navy, Rowan's was the most elite and the smallest. Every other team had at least a dozen men assigned to it, but it wasn't necessary with the Cadre, the name Rowan's ex bestowed upon them. All of them were over six feet tall and corded with muscle. What they lacked in numbers, they made up for in skill. There was a reason they didn't push to replace Gavriel when he retired. Nobody else was a match for them in any capacity and would have been in the way more than anything else. 

"Why don't you look happy about it?" Rowan asked, relaxing a bit and leaning back in his chair. Lorcan looked like he was grinding his teeth to dust and savoring the pain that came with it.

 "Because I'm not."

"You had to approve it. He must be good enough to hold his own with the rest of us." His commander wouldn't accept anyone unless he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could do his job with expert precision. 

Lorcan scratched his jaw, nails scraping against the stubble he hadn't bothered to shave away that morning as he said, "It’s not a he.”

Rowan’s blood turned to ice in his veins so quickly that he shivered for the first time in several months. Every hair on his body stood at attention, skin pebbling down his arms, shaking his head in a single sharp movement as he ground out, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to know who she was. Her name had been whispered up and down the grapevine over the last few years as she quickly climbed the ranks. At this point, she was almost as decorated as he was, and he had been at it for three years longer. Thousands of women served in the various military branches, but only one had ever been good enough to break the glass ceiling and become a Ghost Leopard. 

The Ghost Leopards were Terrasen’s most elite special operations unit. No other military group came close to the skill and drive they had. Most people didn’t even try to join— the physical, mental, and emotional strength demanded was too much for many to handle. Rowan’s unit was the best the Ghost Leopards had to offer. 

Rowan knew she had been part of two different ops teams, but never in a million years did he think she would join his own. Not because she wasn’t good enough. There was no question in his mind that she didn’t belong. Lorcan disliked the woman on a good day, yet he had approved her joining the Cadre after putting personal bias aside. 

No, she had definitely earned it; he could admit that much. Rowan had just doubted that she would ever want to share any amount of oxygen with him ever again. Her assignment to the Cadre likely hadn’t been her own idea. Whoever initiated it must well and truly detest Rowan, though. The gods were playing a cruel, sick joke on him. 

Lorcan’s features were frozen with tension, lips curling at the corners in distaste as he said, “Aelin Galathynius arrives tomorrow.” 

~*~

All five men stood in a straight line, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind their backs. They had decided on the dressed-down version of their uniform, foregoing the over shirts with patches, ranks, and names on them. They each wore the same tan t-shirt tucked into pants in a multi camouflage pattern in shades of brown. It perfectly matched the sandy ocean they were trapped in. 

Heavy black boots anchored Rowan to the ground while they watched the helicopter land a few hundred yards away, kicking up enough dust that they were all happy about the sunglasses and camouflage balaclavas they wore. Without them, the sand would be in every fucking orifice for days on end. 

The newest member of their team finally hopped out, landing with feline grace. To anyone else, she would have been unrecognizable with her face and eyes covered. Not even her hair peeked out as she walked toward them, heaving her bags higher on her shoulder. Rowan would know her anywhere, though.

It wasn’t until the helicopter returned to the skies and the dust settled that she finally pulled her balaclava down around her neck to expose her face. The aviator-style sunglasses stayed perched on her nose, and though her hair was slicked back into a bun at the nape of her neck, the golden strands still shimmered in the sun. The only difference in her uniform was that she wore her blouse with the sleeves rolled up and over her elbows.  Seeing her like this made his vision cloudy at the edges, the memory of their first meeting creeping to the forefront of his mind. He forcefully shoved it away.

The sixty seconds it took her to be within ten feet of them seemed to happen too quickly and in slow motion all at the same time. No emotion flickered over her face, not even her mouth, which usually wore a smirk. Aelin Galathynius was all business.

Hearing her name multiple times in the last twenty-four hours had his mind twisted around itself in a tight knot he couldn’t unwind. Typically, everyone avoided bringing her up when they could, yet now he was seeing her in the flesh for the first time in years. With his heart trying to break his ribs, he was surprised that he heard Lorcan call her by her last name when she stopped before him. 

It probably killed her to do it, but she saluted him the way she would any other commander. Lorcan gave her a nod in return, and her body relaxed. Aelin’s bags slid from her shoulders and landed with a thud on the ground at her feet. Rowan heard her sigh for the first time in ages as her hands dropped to her hips, and she gave them all a once-over.

Light and mischief danced in her fiery blue gaze until she looked at him. Any semblance of emotion flickered out like he’d extinguished the fire that burned within. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her eyes look so damn empty when turned on him. Her dead gaze yanked him two and half years in the past, holding him at gunpoint as he remembered the first time she had ever looked at him that way. 

“I promise. Okay?” Rowan’s hands held Aelin’s cheeks like she was the most precious thing in the world to him because she was. It didn’t matter what he said or did, though. That heavy sadness wouldn’t dissipate, and she wouldn’t look at him. 

“Rowan, I told you–” 

“Baby, it’s the last one, and then I’ll take a job in the city, and it won’t be like this anymore. It’s going to get better, and we’re going to be okay.” He only had minutes left with her, and he hated wasting it like this. It would have been better spent sharing kisses or with him exploring her body to prove how much he loved her. Instead, when they woke up, Aelin had retreated so deeply within herself that he didn’t feel like he could reach her.

“You’ve said twice now that it was going to be the last time. When is it actually going to be the last time, Rowan?” Gods, he really didn’t want to fight with her before he left.

“This is the last deployment I’m going to make,” he swore, and he meant it. He’d already told his commander, and as much as he had hated it, at the end of the day, Lorcan understood. “I don’t want to fight with you right now.”

“I wanted you to stay and pick me for once, so I guess neither of us is getting what we want, are we?” The look in her eyes wasn’t one he’d ever received from her. There was no warmth of love, just a distant chill that felt so tangible goosebumps crawled along his skin. 

 “Aelin,” he sighed, tugging her until he could wrap his arms around her even though she tried to resist. At complete odds with her expressions and words, her arms tightened around his waist, and she fisted his jacket in her hands. Like this was their hardest goodbye yet, she refused to let him go. 

They stood like that for several minutes, Rowan’s lips pressed to the top of her head while he breathed in her scent one more time. Nothing ever came close to how much he missed her when he was gone. Every deployment, he took something of hers with him, falling asleep to the faint scent of jasmine until time washed away any sign of its owner. 

“You’re going to be late,” she finally said, pulling back and wiping her face with the back of her wrist. 

“This is the last time,” he swore for a final time, taking her face between his palms and wiping at her cheeks. Aelin nodded, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder. 

“Yeah. Okay.” The goodbyes were always hard, but this time was different. A warning bell was chiming in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside. They made it through everything else over the last five years, and they would pull through this, too. 

“I love you.” Rowan kissed her, his heart shattering at the feel of her quivering mouth against his. A sob slipped out of her lips, her shoulders caving in. Aelin shook her head, letting it fall to read against his chest. “Hey. We’re okay.”

They were. It was an argument they’d had over and over for the last few years. While Aelin loved active duty, she had taken a desk job a few months ago when they had agreed that when Rowan got back from his last deployment, it was his last. Lorcan had begged him for one more tour because Gavriel was talking about retiring, and he didn’t want to lose them both at the same time. The day Rowan returned and told his girlfriend he was doing one last twelve month deployment, it immediately became a fight that wouldn’t end.

Aelin was twenty-six and genuinely loved her job, but she had wanted to start planning their future. Rowan was twenty-nine, and while he did want those things, he still wanted to keep building his legacy and rake in every ounce of glory while he still could. He wanted nothing more than Aelin, and he knew they could stick it out for one more year. They were strong enough to handle anything thrown at them. Of that, he was absolutely certain. 

While the fighting had led to a lot of high tension in their house, they still loved each other at the end of the day. Even when it was hard, and they went months without hearing each other’s voices or seeing one another, they shared such a rare, blinding love that nothing could fracture it.  

“I love you,” he said once more, kissing her trembling lips and wiping her tears away. 

“I love you, too.” But her eyes didn’t meet his, and it was the image of her crying in the foyer that chased him into fitful sleep every night after.

 ~*~

“Aelin Galathynius,” Fenrys drawled, shaking his head as he took her in. Over the formalities of the situation, Aelin pulled off her sunglasses and dropped into a low bow with her arms spread wide. As soon as she pulled her eyes from Rowan and looked at their mutual best friend, she grinned. 

“At your service,” she crooned with a wink. Down the line, Rowan snorted and turned on his heel,  just about stomping the entire way back to the house. Aelin’s eyes rolled, and Fenrys held his arms open for a hug. With a squeal and a joyous giggle, she ran for him and leaped into his waiting arms. 

 “As soon as Salvaterre said we were getting a sixth again, I fucking knew it was you.” His voice was low in her ear as he spun them in a circle, finally putting her feet back on land so she could hug Connall and Vaughan. Aelin made no effort to further engage in conversation with Lorcan. They tolerated each other on a good day, and he was still watching Rowan as he disappeared into what she assumed was their living quarters.

 “I missed you the most out of everyone,” she told Fen as he hefted her bags over one shoulder and threw his other arm around her to lead her toward the house.

 “Even more than you missed Whitethorn?” It was a joke, one that wasn’t rewarded with laughter but by a swift jab to his ribs. He winced, lips pulling into a harsh frown. Aelin couldn’t help it. She smiled.

 “Is he still being a bitter asshole?”

 “Worse, if you can believe it,” Connall chimed in. A sigh was desperate to creep out of her lips, but she swallowed it down. She knew when she got the assignment that it wouldn’t be easy for her, Rowan, or anyone that had to be in close proximity to them. Aelin also knew that she could check the baggage at the door when it came down to doing their jobs. In their downtime, however… She was making no promises. 

“We cleared out a room for you. Fenrys can show you which one,” Lorcan shot over his shoulder as he walked past them, headed toward the house next to the one Rowan had entered. 

“I don’t need special treatment just because I’m a woman!” Lorcan merely waved dismissively over his shoulder and slammed the front door behind him.

“I promise there is no special treatment here in Hela’s fucking armpit,” Vaughan mumbled, nudging her with his shoulder as he brushed past. Indeed, it seemed their living quarters were a far cry from her house in Orynth. Not that the barracks or living situations on special missions were ever anything to write home about, but this was particularly shoddy. 

Fenrys led her inside, gesturing to each fixture in the common areas and trying to sell them for far more than their worth. It wasn’t the worst place Aelin had ever lived in her decade-long career in the military, but his jokes had her in stitches by the time he led her to her ‘bedroom.’

Really, it was more of an oversized closet with a cot, a chair for a nightstand, and a single light operated by a cord that dangled from the ceiling. Someone had put a small fan on top of the chair that she turned on to test the airflow. Beneath the cot was just enough space for her to slide her bags, and the door shut almost all the way. It refused to latch, but you win some and lose some. It wasn’t the worst and definitely beat sleeping outside or sharing a room with any of the boys. Aelin had spent enough time with military men to know they smelled horrible. 

Not that she smelled like jasmine at all hours of the day, but the women tended to try a little harder than the men did. It didn’t matter that she knew all of them personally. Maybe it was a little sexist, but she stood firm in the idea that women cared a little more about body odor than men.

After the grand tour was finished and she’d peeked into the guys' rooms, they walked back toward the kitchen. Aelin had arrived much later than planned, and Rowan was already preparing his MRE for dinner. The others quickly followed suit, and Fenrys knelt on the ground to dig through the box.

“Alright, we’ve got spaghetti with meat sauce, chili mac, a chicken stew, regular mac and cheese, and lemon pepper tuna.” 

“Chili mac,” she said, firm in her decision. It was one of the best ones, and with their supplies looking a little low, she didn’t know how it was even an option. 

Fenrys handed her the dinner, and she quickly removed all the contents. Along with the main entree, it held a few other snack items ranging from a beef jerky stick to a packet of Sour Patch Kids and a few things in between. She hummed contentedly at the fruit punch powder packet that she would most definitely add to her water. 

Aelin was forced to sidle up next to Rowan to fill her pouch with water to activate the one-time-use heater that came with the meals. He said nothing as their shoulders brushed until she was finished, folding her pouch over to avoid spillage. Aelin handed her food off to Fenrys while she relocated everything else to the small table that would barely hold them all. By the time she retrieved it and took her seat, Rowan was already in his chair. 

Because she simply couldn’t pass up on the opportunity, she sat next to him, not bothering to avoid their knees knocking or shoulders bumping as she settled. Again, he said nothing. Just stabbed at his own pouch of beef and barbecue and pretended she wasn’t there. 

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment?” Aelin nudged his elbow with hers, tilting her head to look at him. Rowan finally relented and gave her a sidelong glance. 

The others, including Lorcan, were claiming their seats. To their credit, it seemed that they were trying not to eavesdrop, but that was impossible in this house. Lorcan, however, looked ready to jump between them and dispel a fight that would leave two of his incredible assets licking their wounds.  

“I was thinking about it,” Rowan replied tersely, not looking up as he shoved a bite into his mouth. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last few years?”

“Ah, so Connall was right then.” Bitter asshole to his very core, apparently. Fenrys snickered at her remark beside her while Rowan tensed. Aelin could have been sitting up against a concrete wall and wouldn’t have known the difference. 

“What are you missing most about civilian life?” Fen asked, likely an attempt to prevent a verbal sparring match. He popped a skittle into his mouth and settled back in his rickety chair.  

“I barely remember what it’s like at this point, to be honest.” It was the truth. Aelin had thrown herself so thoroughly into work that she was only home for a few days at a time. The longest she’d been home was for a month last summer. There were days when she didn’t know what to do with herself and days when her mattress felt too soft, or the food too indulgent. Aelin pondered, mouth twisting to the side. “Usually, I would say long, hot showers. But I don’t think I’ll be craving any sort of heat while we’re here. Probably my nightgowns. I can handle everything else, but sleeping in silk is wildly underrated.”

“Can you not share intimate details while we’re eating?” Rowan grumbled. Aelin whipped her head around to look at him, her brow furrowed.

“Intimate details, my ass. You’ve literally been inside me. I don’t think it gets more intimate than that.” Had she chosen nightgowns specifically to wiggle her way under Rowan’s skin? Maybe. But it didn’t make his reaction any less stupid. “How the hell is sleepwear an intimate detail?” 

Rowan opened his mouth to respond, but Lorcan beat him to the punch, looking for all the world like he should have told them to put Aelin in someone else’s company as he said, “On the topic of civilian life–”

 “Please tell me we’re leaving this godsforsaken place,” Fenrys cut in, eyes wide and pleading. 

 “I just flew halfway around the world, and we’re leaving?” Aelin felt as exasperated as she sounded. It was a long way to travel to just turn around and head right back. She wasn’t eager to be cooped back up on any sort of aircraft so soon. 

“In three days,” Lorcan confirmed, shifting in his seat to pull a roll of paper from his back pocket that he dropped into the middle of the table. Six pairs of eyes peered down, scanning the words even though it was upside down for Fenrys, Aelin, and Rowan. “I didn’t find out until this morning, or we would have waited for you to join us then.”

 “What’s going on?”

 “Since we’ve been monitoring the border here for months and nothing is happening, we’re more useful elsewhere. Another unit will be stationed here while we go to Rifthold.”

“What’s happening in Rifthold?” Rowan asked, leaning back in his chair. Aelin did the same while taking a swig of fruit punch, eyeing the unused drink packet from Rowan’s meal kit. It was grape, and she knew he wouldn’t drink it because it was too sweet. Maybe she could steal it when he wasn’t paying attention.

 “A threat on the Crown Prince of Adarlan’s  life.” Lorcan’s tone lacked inflection. He could have been talking about the weather.

“I’m all for preventing an assassination, but we’re the Terrasen military. Why are we getting sent in for this?” Vaughan had a point. A good one, too. Not that any of them were really complaining. Going back to civilization would be a damn vacation for them, the boys more than Aelin. She hadn’t been hiding in a shack in the desert for the last four months.

“Because all signs point to it happening at the summer ball, and our President, along with a dozen high-ranking officials from our government, will be in attendance. Preventing the Prince’s assassination will save their lives, too.” Everyone murmured their agreement. “We don’t know where it came from, though. Our source is unclear on that, which will be the trickier part. All signs point to it being an inside job right now because things have been intense between the king and his oldest son.”

 “Dorian has been speaking out against a lot of his father’s policies. The king can’t do damage control fast enough. It was all over the papers when I was in Orynth last month. As quickly as the king puts out one fire, Dorian starts another. ‘Inside sources,’” Aelin added air quotes with her fingers for emphasis, “Claim that the king is getting really fed up. It’s causing a lot of unrest and protests among the people. More of them seem to agree with the prince than the king. It would make sense for it to be his doing.” 

“That,” Fenrys drawled, holding one finger, “Is fucked up.”

“It is,” Aelin agreed. “But things have always appeared to be rocky between them.”

“We’ll be going undercover for a while. Adarlan’s government isn’t asking for assistance on the issue, probably because they’re starting it to begin with. But we aren’t willing to risk their version of ‘taking care of things.’ And if it comes down to it, President Galathynius–” Lorcan’s eyes shot to Aelin when mentioning her uncle, “–would rather save the prince’s life and risk tension with Adarlan over it.” 

“Considering the King of Adarlan is a sexist, racist piece of shit, I don’t blame him,” Connall mused, letting his hair out of the bun it had been in since Aelin arrived. She agreed with her uncle. Dorian did as much as he could as a prince, but as king… He would pave the way to a better world. 

“Do we have covers yet?” Rowan leaned forward, reaching for the stack of papers Lorcan had presented to them. As he sifted through them, Aelin noticed the commander’s face getting tighter with every page Rowan skimmed. Her brow furrowed as she looked over her ex-boyfriend’s broad shoulder. 

“You two…” Lorcan hesitated. Almost like he was dreading the news he was about to bestow upon them. “The four of us will be blending in with the commoners. Our base will be a large manor set far enough out that nobody will notice we all congregate together.”

Beside her, Rowan went utterly rigid. If she thought he was tense before, it was nothing compared to now. The tendons in his neck were ready to snap. She swore she could see his pulse pounding in his neck as a vein protruded in the center of his forehead. 

“No,” Rowan said, shaking his head and throwing the papers on the table. Confused, Aelin snatched them up to read them herself. Fenrys leaned in to read along with her, one of his fingers tracing down the edge of the page.

“It wasn’t my call,” Lorcan said defensively, right as her eyes landed on the incriminating words that had Rowan’s body taut as a bowstring.

“This better be a fucking joke,” she spat, pushing out of her chair and rising to her feet. It had to be a joke, a prank, a hazing for joining their stupid little boyband. The harsh lines on her commander’s face said it was anything but. “Married? Out of all five of you to make me pretend to be married to, it’s Rowan that gets picked?”

“We don’t know how dangerous of a situation we’re walking into.” Lorcan tried to sound calm, but his eyes darted between the former couple like they might burn down the world out of spite. Aelin was considering it. “Rowan is the best of us at hand-to-hand combat should you ever need the defense–”

“I can fight for myself. I can protect myself. Fenrys could protect me just as well as Rowan if that were truly a concern.” It was risky to shout at her commander so much, especially on her first day, but Aelin was just past the point of caring. Every fuck she might be able to give was caught in a tornado of sand, plowing through the desert in the complete opposite direction.

“You know better than anyone that Rowan has skill sets that would work well while masquerading as a Duke, just like you do for being a Duchess. Fenrys is too loud-mouthed, and the other two lack the general composure to pretend to be royal. Rowan always has the quiet, dignified mask in his back pocket. He can talk his way out of–”

 “I don’t care,” she hissed, taking several steps from the table.

 “Ace…” Fenrys said quietly, leaning back in his chair to grab her hand. “Lorcan has a point.”

 “I know he does.” Aelin’s voice was muffled while she rubbed at her face. Nobody objected or disagreed with Lorcan’s mild insults because it was the truth. Sometimes, Fen didn’t know when to shut up, and while Vaughan and Connall could easily look the part, they were missing something that Rowan just had naturally. 

 When he walked into a room, he carried himself like he was important. Unlike typical royals, it wasn’t because he was looking down his nose at anyone but because he almost commanded respect from everyone. Rowan, as a royal, wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. Aelin knew that. She just wished she had more of a heads-up before getting thrown into something that hit a little too close to home where their former relationship was concerned.

 “I’m sorry for yelling.” Her eyes met Lorcan’s, and he shrugged. Now was not the time for him to assume she couldn’t do her job because she was an emotional woman. It was sexist bullshit, to begin with, but her time in the military told her it’s what they all thought of the women. No matter how hard they trained or how many times they proved themselves, women were silly, emotional creatures that couldn’t handle anything.

“I expected it. I know it won’t be easy for either of you.” Aelin couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. Not the raised brows or the way her mouth parted at his words. Maybe she undersold him. Just a little. “Rowan?”

 “Yeah.” The word was flat. Seeing his face wasn’t necessary to know his eyes were probably as vacant as he sounded.

 “Can you handle it?”

 “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

No, they didn’t have a choice, but if it would save multiple lives, they would manage. Their tumultuous past would stay where it belonged when they were in public and doing their jobs. Maybe they would even find a way to be civil by the end of it. There was also the possibility of everything going up in flames, one violent explosion at a time until everything was burned and nobody was marked safe from the fallout.

Aelin really wasn’t sure which one it would be.

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma

[holmsister]

Snippet of writing in which I describe kabrus official knight armour because I read the iliad at a formative age and never quite recovered

Kabru's armour is not quite as decorative as Yaad would have liked it to be. He refused to get two sets made, so this is supposed to be both his parade armour and his battle one, and most of the decor has been sacrificed to practicality. He just allowed a couple details - his left pauldron, his open helm, his left greave and the sword's crossguards all have the head of wolves on them, mouths open and snarling. He likes this imagery. The lion for Laios and for himself the loyal follower and the watchdog. This is also why he insisted on unadorned steel. Gilding should be reserved for the King. Yaad will probably eventually force him to get himself a fancier parade armour, but that's in the future.

For now, this is the ideal set for him. Built for the asymmetrical elven fencing style, instead of clumsily adapted to it, the maille of half-foot make, thin and lightweight, the shape less clumsy around his bust, elbow and knee cop leaving him mobile even with full coverage on his limbs. He has worn it before, trained in it to get used to the weight distribution, but he has never gotten the chance to break into it properly. He was reserving it for today.

It shows - the steel is blinding in the sun. It feels too new, too pretty. He cannot wait to get it dirty.

A pageboy - Adhemar, he thinks - approaches him nervously.

"Sir Kabru?" He asks.

Nervous might have been an understatement - He seems about to pass out in fear.

Kabru gives him a reassuring smile, even thought he can't help but feel a little flattered by what an intimidating figure he cuts, apparently.

"What's the matter, Adhemar? Do my adversaries have something to say?"

The page looks so awestruck at Kabru remembering his name that he stutters for a bit.

"I. Uh. There has been some discussing about the, uh, established order of duels."

Kabru tilts his head and purses his lips.

"I have decided upon the order based on the levels of duelling experience as self-reported by my challengers. I thought I would even the playing field thusly, as there's only one of me and many of them. I'd met the more experienced first, at the top of my strength, and least experienced at the end, when I am more tired and possibly wounded."

"Yes, ah, uhm, the challengers, they, uh. The dwarves... they say they should go first as that is the right of hospitality. And the nobles want to go before the peasants."

Kabru sighs. He was kind of hoping that showing his skills in the first few duels would help making his day shorter. Especially for the dwarven challengers - duels are a big production in their culture - but also for the green noble brats, a few duels before their turn would have given them more time to realise how out of their depth they were and find a face-saving excuse.

Whatever. He did what he could. It's their funeral.

He asks for a stylus and two wax tablets and quickly devises an order for the duels based entirely on age and rank, with the dwarves at the top as their 'esteemed guests'.

He grins reassuringly to the kid as he gives him one of the two tablets.

"If this is more to my adversaries' liking, we can proceed immediately, Adhemar. No need to discuss this further, just give me a signal from your side of the field. I'll have this brought to the king's tent in the meantime." he says, gesturing to the other tablet.

The page looks at him as if he is the sun, accepting the tablet with a deep bow.

"Thank you, sir Kabru." He lowers his voice and tilts towards him with the air of sharing a secret. "We field pages are all rooting for you. Everyone who has met you knows there isn't a finer warrior or a nobler man than you in all of Melini."

"Except for the King," Kabru says, still smiling reassuringly.

Adhemar bristles. "Of course, except for His Majesty!" His correction is earnest, and Kabru's smile widens.

He pats the kid on the head.

"Your support is greatly appreciated and won't be forgotten. Go now. Let's not drag this any longer."

[taskforcedistortion]

This is the official Taskforce Distortion account. Before anything, we will answer some questions for you.

//FINISHED ARCS: #Mew out of the bag. Please heed the content warnings about this arc before continuing.

What is Taskforce Distortion? Taskforce Distortion is a group focused on the protection of the Multiverse. It is ran under multiple divisions; the Rocket Division, the Aqua Division, the Magma Division, the Galactic Division, the Plasma Division, the Skull Division and the (new) Star Division. Our leader keeps their identity hidden for the safety of all involved, however we all run under guidelines set by them.

What is the purpose of each division? The Rocket Division monitors the activity of "Teams" both active and not. This division having access to top of the line security and surveillance systems to monitor such activity. Any unusual activity will be reported to the leader and a plan of dispatch will be acted upon with swiftness. The Aqua and Magma Division share responsibilities of monitoring irregular seismic activity in the current universe's planet, as to not let a catastrophic event similar to that of the Hoenn incident ever happen again. A smaller responsibility is to also monitor the health of the oceans and land to try and fight back pollution and habitat damage. The Galactic Division monitors the Distortion world, keeping an eye on the activity of the Giratina to make sure they do not cause havoc to any universes that reside in said plane of existence. The Plasma Division monitors known pokemon breeders and professional trainers to prevent illegal activity, be it pokemon abuse or inhumane training methods that don't necessarily fall under the league or law's definition of abuse. The Skull Division is our eyes on the ground, sent out to monitor areas of interest along with the Rocket Division. And finally the Star Division, which isn't a full division, as there is only one member, however it is one of the most important additions as it's lead member is a prodigy hacker, allowing us much farther reach than before.

//Active Ask Games

//Cards and other Division Leader/Agent info

//Please note! And before you ping the account!

//Taskforce Distortion Discord!

//Other info under the cut!

//Putting this at the top here so it's seen- Please do not call them cops- that's not the interpretation I want for them because it makes me very uncomfortable.

//Ooc. This is a sideblog! Unreality. Mod is an adult and goes by she/her he/him pronouns. All art I use is my own! I follow from @theshadowqueenofthedistortion, more info about me on my main! Here's some of my other accounts as well!

//Semi-Serious blog, I will participate in active silliness and also write serious stuff. Will sometimes touch on death, abuse and a few other things, I will tag the serious stuff with their appropriate tw/cw tags.

//Lightweight magic anons on for this account. Pelipper mail is definitely on! This isn't a villain account, but feel free to treat it as such IC! I would like the drama~ //As an addition, anon hate IC is allowed, however, note that I will curate it, and if it is really harsh and you don't specify it as IC, I might delete for my own comfort.

//No Shipping, a lot of the stuff in here is closed off.

//I am very open to crossover stuff!

//Pokemon in this universe have human levels of sentience, though multiverses that don't are well known and won't be questioned.

//Real life animals exist along side Pokemon in her universe, like divergent evolution (not the pokemon thing, the science thing)

//Anon hate is encouraged as I wanna have my portrayals of these guys respond to that stuff =D please say who it's for though, other wise I'll just guess.

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TaskForce Announcement: A announcement of a situation that the taskforce are involved in! If you would like the Taskforce to look over a situation, feel free to send an ask! (If you aren't the person running the event however, I will need permission from the person who is running it ^^;)

//Response tags have been moved to the Agent and Leader master post

[goodboyyyy]

By request 😉

You'd always been skinny for your age, but recently you'd been trying to bulk up. There was a cute Asian girl you liked, and even though you'd brought her flowers and taken her on a few dates, you weren't sure if she was interested in you. You knew her family was pretty traditional and preferred she dated Asian guys- her three other sisters were dating huge, ripped Asian dudes- so you thought working out might make up for it. You didn't want to hound or bother her- you weren't a fuckboy like that.

You ran into her older brother one day at the gym.

You got to talking and he offered to start giving you some pointers and training you. You accepted- his body was awesome, after all. He was kind of an annoying douchebro- all he talked about was lifting, not being a pussy, getting pussy- all kinds of dumb disrespectful stuff. You never understood how guys like this always had girlfriends- but you saw pretty good gains with his help over a few weeks so you kept at it.

One day after you were done he invited you to grab some food. You stopped at a dumplings spot next to the gym. He said he knew the owner so you guys got to eat for free. That was cool. He ordered and asked for extra sauce. It was almost like he'd nodded his head over at you when he asked.

You dug in, exhausted from your workout. The dumplings tasted great, and the sauce was amazing too. The more you ate it, the more you wanted it. You finished it after eating only two or three dumplings and asked for more. He just smirked at you, and bought another two over which you quickly devoured. You had so much energy suddenly, like your body was pulsating with it.

"Dude, do you wanna hit the gym again? Just a few extra reps," you asked.

"I think that sounds like a great idea man."

You walked back in and it was odd- it seemed like everything had shrunk a little. You didn't realize it was because some things about you were slowly changing after your meal- like how you were slowly getting taller, thicker, dumber, and how your features were changing- skin becoming more bronzed- hair thinner and shorter- your mind was on one thing- lifting. You started on the cable machine. The usual weight you did was suddenly very light to you.

"Because that's some pussy lightweight shit," you said with a chuckle.

"Wait- why did I think that?"

Before you could think about it more he nodded at you, increasing the weight. "Just start lifting bro. This is gonna be the best workout of your life Brett."

"Fuck yeah man," you said, getting to work. Something felt different about this workout- like you could feel every muscle pulsing and swelling. You grunted, sweat leaking from your pits. Every pump accelerated the changes. Your features became more Asian as your body became more ripped. Everything got even smaller as you got bigger, taller, broader. Your hair grew longer in some spots, receded in others, turning into a nice fade. Part of you was registering the changes, confused, trying to hold on to your old self- but your mind was changing as quickly as your body, telling you you looked better this way, that this was how you'd always been. Lifting. Eating. Hanging with your bros. Fucking. That was your life. The old you was slowly being erased, replaced by an Asian muscle fuckboy- and you couldn't stop it, you didn't even want to stop it.

"Looking good bro," he said in front of you proudly after your first set, leading you over to the mirror. A ripped Asian guy was staring back at you. You were almost confused, but this was who you were- you'd always been this way. You'd spent hours building this body, bruh. Tons of lat raises and pressed for these capped shoulders, hundreds of bench presses and curls to get these defined, bulging pecs and arms. Memories of all the years in the gym filled you. "That sauce gives a great pump, doesn't it? Let's go do the next set and make this official, Peng."

"Fuck yeah bro," you said dumbly, responding to your new name- wait, new? No, this had always been your name. More memories overwrote everything that had been Brett. You were Peng, the ripped Asian fuckboy. You'd always been Peng. You loved being Peng, you thought as you strode over on your big, powerful legs and grabbed the cables again, lifting the full stack with ease now.

Whoever Brett was, he was weak. Peng was strong- a hulking virile beast. Why would you even want to be Brett? You felt the veins popping in your neck, felt the sense of masculine superiority that came with being the alpha that Peng was. Sweat started leaking out of you again, and what was left of Brett trickled out with it, leaking out of your pits and onto the gym floor. The transformation was complete. You were Peng now, and Peng loved getting some good pussy right after a workout. Sliding your huge Asian cock into a bitch was all you could think of. Your cock and balls had swelled along with you, pumping out ten times the amount of testosterone they had before. You'd be fucking a lot more now.

He led you back over to the mirror, inspecting you. "The best one yet. Now you'll be perfect for my sister. Lets head home, bruh," he said.

You got to his house and his sister didn't even recognize you. She had no idea you used to be Brett= you were just Peng, now. That was all you'd ever been. She played coy at first, but by the end of the night, she was wrapped around your dick, grinding against it dutifully while you lay sprawled out on her bed with your big arms stretched overhead, showing off your biceps and shoulders. You smiled cockily as her moans filled the room and her long, painted nails dug into you. She had been your dream girl- you'd felt lucky that she'd even looked at you before- and now she was bouncing on your cock, begging you to cum in her as she climaxed over and over again.

Damn, it was good to be a man.

[smash-64]

2023 Game of the Year Countdown #5 Pokemon Trading Card Game  (and also the Pokemon Trading Card Game Neo! romhack by Cataclyptic that added Gen 2 Pokes) Nintendo GameBoy Color, 1998

This entry will include two games, but one is simply a romhack by a fan. However, that romhack is probably the best romhack I’ve ever played. First, the original.

Pokemon Trading Card Game came with the addition of GameBoy games to the Switch online subscription, and for many, it was their first experience with the TCG. My best friend and I taught ourselves to play back in the day, but we were poor kids with little allowance to spend on cards and never had any good decks. I used to read about really expensive decks filled with holographics and rares that won tournaments and always wished I could make one of my own. The pinnacle was always the Haymaker deck: a deck built around a few Pokemon with high HP and cheap attacks that could KO opponents before they could do anything about it.

The thing is, the Haymaker deck is so hilariously powerful, you can essentially stomp the CPU without even putting together a complete version of the deck. The best versions rely on Energy Removals and Super Energy Removals to hamstring opponents, and Gusts of Wind to force your opponent into switching to suit favorable matchups. I never pulled a single Super Energy Removal at all, and was lacking full sets of numerous Pokemon that were staples in the Haymaker deck, yet I was still able to absolutely blast the CPU. It was easy, but it was also fun.

However, the true experience came from the romhack created by Cataclyptic. The romhack creates a full set of new cards, removing most of the old ones from Base Set, Jungle, and Fossil. Instead, we get all the Johto Pokemon, as well as a few returning cards that have been balanced. I found the balanced cards to be wonderfully tailored to be good, but never TOO good. It was surprising to see that almost every card felt useful. Many were based on other cards, and I fell into a Meganium and Bellossom deck. There were two Meganiums, with one able to heal status conditions and the other able to shuffle energy cards among your Pokemon. Meanwhile, Bellossom was clearly based on the Do the Wave Wigglytuff of Jungle lore. However, this Bellossom felt more balanced since it was a stage 2 evolution, and the attack required grass energies, not colorless. As a result, it took longer to both fully evolve, and power up your Pokemon, since you couldn’t utilize the Double Colorless Energy.

I was also a fan of Jumpluff, as the entire evolutionary line only required a single grass energy for every attack. As a result, you had a whole line of Pokemon that felt true to their original design of being lightweight, quick Pokemon. I loved the attention to detail on this sort of thing.

Additionally, the cards themselves were created in the same GBC sprites that the original game had. Some look better than others, but I think almost all look better than their original counterparts. Clearly crafted with love by Cataclyptic.

Finally, before I get inundated with messages and comments telling me about the official TCG sequel that was only released in Japan, I did also try the fan translation of that game. However, I didn’t enjoy it much at all because they severely restricted so many things. Part of what was fun about the game to begin with was being able to get booster packs at a rate significantly above what my poor childhood self could afford. However, the very premise of Invasion of Team GR! is that they’ve taken all the Pokemon cards, making them very scarce. As a result, you can’t get cards nearly as easily. And with the extra sets added to the game, you can’t get the ones you want very easily, either. 

Additionally, the entire strategy behind most of the Team Rocket cards is to disrupt play, and while that might be similar in one way to the Haymaker strategy I previously praised, the Pokemon themselves are all pretty weak. It feels like you’re just playing Trainer cards and nothing else. I’ve seen some strategies that make people discard most of their deck instead of KOing their Pokemon. It very much fits the MO of Team Rocket, but it just isn’t quite for me. However, if you like blue decks in Magic the Gathering, you might enjoy this one. 

If you like the TCG or the original game, play Cataclyptic’s romhack! I’d buy a physical cart of it, if I could.

[diabolus1exmachina]

MGA Twin-Cam 

From the late 1940s until the MG factory at Abingdon closed in 1980, it was the huge American demand for British sports cars that brought sufficient orders to keep the production lines in business. While other countries around the world and the home market were important, none was as important as North America. The modern-looking, streamlined MGA was introduced in 1955 and this too proved to be a sales success in MG's most important market. Of a total production of 101,081 MGAs, 81,401 were exported to the USA, some eighty-one per cent of the total market. Owing to the importance of this market, it was not surprising that BMC was keen to support any efforts MG might make to promote their products in America. One route was through record breaking attempts such as the supercharged MG Twin Cam EX181 which Stirling Moss and Phil Hill drove in 1957/9, setting world class records. The other was through sports car racing. Perhaps the most important circuit for MG in the post-war period in the USA, and also a major fixture on the international racing calendar, were the races held on an airfield circuit near Sebring in Florida.

These were established in 1950 by former Briggs Cunningham team manager, Alec Ulmann, who decided to mimic the French 24 Hour Le Mans concept by running endurance races for production sports cars. From the first six hour race in 1950, MGs figured well in both overall and class results. From 1951 the race was lengthened to 12 hours and was particularly gruelling owing to the bumpy nature of the circuit. In that year an MG special placed fourth overall and TDs won the team prize. By 1956 the MGA had arrived and three north American MG importers entered standard cars with aero-screens and straight-through exhaust systems, finishing a credible fourth, fifth and sixth in class. The following year they were more successful, taking the team prize and gaining first and second in class.

In 1958 the higher performance Twin Cam had been announced, but there were no officially-supported MG entries that year. In 1959 the competition department at Abingdon became serious and prepared three Twin Cam coupes to race and shipped over a mass of spare parts and a fourth practice car. Entered through the MG concessionaires, The Hambro Corporation, all three cars finished in a very wet race including a second and third place result in the 1,300cc to 1,600cc class. A class win at Le Mans also added to the momentum so in 1960 Abingdon once again prepared the factory team, this year with many more modifications. For racing the three cars got bigger SU-carburetors, a close-ratio four-speed gearbox, locked differentials, bigger fuel-tanks, a modified cold-air inlet system and additional oil coolers. The bumpers were deleted, lightweight alloy-hardtops from Vanden Plas, and a special cockpit tonneau panel to accommodate a hypothetical traveling suitcase (a new FIA requirement for 1960). two additional spotlights, while the whole car got a typical painting in British Racing Green with different stripes per car to distinguish them on the track. The three race entries were registered UMO 96, 93 and 95.