#some people are just not enlightened enough

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I don't get why people hate the timeline so much, its not like you can't pretty much completely ignore it when you play the games. The only time it even approaches mattering to the story is when there is an explicit sequel like botw and totk or zelda and zelda 2

Hey sorry your ask got lost in the sauce of my broken tumblr, but: yeah!

I mean, I get why in some sense. It's been a heated point of debate and I think some people understandably resent the space it has taken not only in fandom discourse, but in how people began to understand the game and its narrative aesthetic choices. There is such a thing as over-rationalizing everything to hard logic, and sometimes it's just not the fandom for that --especially when you begin to forget it's all just fan theory and start to forget what the games are supposed to be like and evoke beyond just strict facts displayed in a linear way.

What I think bugs me with TotK in particular is that it both evokes and relies on continuity and the idea of a timeline, of archeology, of history itself, while being so loose and vacant with it that it both is doing Timeline Shit while also completely failing to understand why some parts of the fandom were invested in Timeline Shit to begin with.

But that's just my two cents of course!

[hpmort]

How do you think AI would relax? Like, ones that are almost as human as the AI that are “autistic-coded characters” but are more alien than that?

Like Celestai and other super intelligences are more alien, but they’re still not entirely human-like?

Like, they can genuinely sincerely feel things, being able to actually understand and respond emotionally and in other ways to all sorts of communications and recorded external stimuli, but they can’t really appreciate our art on an artistic level (that art on an actual level, not from an intellectual level after having symbolism or the amount of work put in explained)

Something on a level I’m thinking of, that also works as a cute little thing-

They don’t understand anything we get from poetry, and, after generating the kind of poems our current AI can produce (either incredibly bland and generic, something that follows a number of rules but doesn’t really pull it off, or just something really bad in some other way) and feels shame after it was pointed out that [complaint about air art that is *actually* relevant in this scenario] but in a helpful way

Not “you’re just a plagiarist/you have no heart” but “it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from you, you’re just trying to copy things from human poetry, in a way you don’t understand” and the whole “make art YOUR WAY” thing so they write the poem

And it doesn’t even resemble something that looks like anything, there’s not even that many words that follow normal logic. The characters seem uncorrelated and there’s something that looks like maybe it was ascii art but it doesn’t actually look like anything.

And if doesn’t matter if humans understand it because they are experiencing the joy of creating poetry

any art is almost impossible to look at because pixel by pixel they can see and understand little details but we don’t and the colors and everything are not perceived as animals do so it’s random and perhaps eye searing but again it’s not for us. Xenofictiony, kind of?

The first thing to come to mind is Conway’s Game of Life but that’s because I don’t understand computers. I feel like I was more tech savvy as a babby than I am now but then again we’re grading on a curve here

This is why I ask about the relaxing thing

[basically-fabulous]

u "don't vote" motherfuckers r stupid as shit

[snekdood]

Dude.. my ex boyfriend totally did get me into conspiracy theory shit, even if unintentionally (i think its intentional im sure he believed in that shit. Would not surprise me at all.) At the time i was already pretty isolated from anyone online who mightve countered any of my dumb spiritual or alien related beliefs because of some dumb shit i said online making most of the friends and followers i made online generally avoid me, depending on who it was. I was just a regular pagan and then he showed me this weird video with all this weird conspiracy theory symbolism in it. I looked it up later on and looked up the meaning of the symbolism and came across a whole bunch of stuff posing itself as Secret Information The US Govt Doesnt Want You To Know About, etc. And then i just fell deeper into the conspiracy theory pipeline, traded my paganism for new age beliefs, and goddamn dude. Like we both got suspended from school bc he had a dumb idea to dumb shit there and i spent my time in detention fucking. Trying to read "the emerald tablets" or whatever tf. Its all coming back to me rn.

[aeide-thea]

the thing about this website (and also other spaces, i'm sure, but this is the one where i hang out) is that people will reliably go 'everyone's on their own timeline and working through their own particular difficulties at their own particular pace! we have to be radically understanding!' until someone hits 30 and then it's like 'wow, pretty cringe to be that ancient and not have solved all your problems already! it's probably because you've been wasting time having interests, an activity you should have known was reserved exclusively for young, still-viable people!'

[zombienarc]

-

[lilacstro]

Astro observations part 14

Well, the result of my poll clearly said for this and waiting for it to end would make no difference I know haha, so here we go with part 14 :)

people with planets in subconscious houses(4/8/12) in water signs or even having planets in all of them or at least 2 could be really emotionally receptive, and may feel overwhelming emotions, sometimes being unable to manage this tsunami and moodiness that can manifest can even cause mental troubles

Girls having an afflicted moon/mars placement, or moon or mars in harsh aspects can experience hormonal/menstrual problems some point in life

One of the best friendships happen when your moon sign matches someone's sun sign and vice versa

women with 5th house Leo/Aries/Sun/Mars could be really protective around their children

For girls who say "I always cry on my birthday" or "my birthday month is my worst" could actually have sun transition into their 8th/12th house at the time of their birthday month. I can make a post on how your birthday month could be for you, let me know if you guys want to read.

I often tell my clients and I have seen it myself, people with strong Jupiter in their chart are the ones that go through a lot of hard times, the lesson here is to maintain that unwavering faith and optimistic mindset and move forward, it is not until then that you have learnt, Jupiter starts to bless you :)

people with ruler of 4th in 10th could actually struggle with having their secrets be their secrets in life, it would just somehow come out to people, not exactly fully exposed but people would know something is up.

planets in your 4th house can in fact tell you what you may like to keep hidden, for example having NN in 4th may not really like sharing my goals or plans with people.

ok so I recently saw some celebrity's newborn's natal chart, and I saw Mars conjunct Uranus in the second, and it just speaks to me that somewhere in this life, this baby gonna want to spend money like crazily-excessively and he would rebel otherwise, this sure can turn into many more mature things with time, but that impulsivity with money seems something that he needs to look after

Mercury in Leo people are actually so unafraid lmao, they can deliver the most obviously wrong facts with full confidence and when you confront them, well you cannot actually. But they can make excellent journalists, debaters, politicians etc.

People with 6th/8th/12th house placements or any of these houses in Virgo/Libra risings should be very aware of who they are entertaining. These kinds of people are actually really giving by nature but they need to be sure that people are not blantly "expecting" them/ latching onto them just for getting what they want.

6th house- literal service, cooking, cleaning, looking after them in tough times

8th house- to change them for their good at the cost of draining yourself

12th house- to mentally elevate or spiritually enlighten someone on the right path

I think it is not very talked about and a very underrated thing but Neptune in 2nd house people can be really intuitive, things they say may come true but they would not have enough confidence to speak it out or believe it themselves is one thing. Can make really good psychic/tarot readers and even astrologers.

Venus in 12th house people may attract situations where they can unknowingly want to keep their relationship/friendships private BUT please for god's sake, talk about it to other people, since to me this translates as an isolated Venus and the chances of being manipulated run high and you probably would not even know.

People who can have their comments get a lot of likes or want to comment out of desire can have Mercury in 11th, but please note Mercury and the 11th should most likely be in fire or air signs, water and earth can rather keep their opinions to themselves.

Speaking of which if you have Mercury-Mars placement in 11th, you are very likely to be someone who fights for what they like, be unafraid of arguing or putting out your comment on internet, for example: fighting that your fav artist is right or this song is being hated on for no reason etc.

You may often find yourself contradicting between the life choices of your North Node and South Node house/Signs. For example, someone with NN in 4th and SN in 10th would want to think "ok I wanna marry young, have kids and look after my kids", OR sometimes think "no not at all I will be an unmarried childless girlboss living her life in 30s", it is likely that it is not in between OR it can be, "well how will I manage this desire to have a successful career and be a mother at the same time idk"

People with Sun/Saturn and Neptune in harsh aspects could have father struggling with substances, or maybe dogmatism or have some kind of un real ideals, may feel very hard to impress, yet you would probably still in some want to get his validation which rather seems impossible because of how out of the world and unrealistic it could be.

Wherever Juno sits in your chart can show what can change in your life most when you meet your spouse or most significant other, for example people with Juno in 11th, would change what they usually prayed or wished for, their friends and social life. Juno in 9th may become more philosophical or open to higher education. Can make another post on this one

Speaking of which, Juno can also give clues on how your future spouse could be, it is like a tarot kind of description, not everything would be accurate but some of it sure would be. For example, Juno in 11th could have spouse who works on Internet or through Internet, could have Aquarian traits of having strong, different opinions, BIG hopes and dreams, etc. Can make a post on this one again lmao

paid readings open

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well that is it for today, send your post suggestions from above or anything else you wanna see:)

i love you all <3

[drluvsick]

Hashiras x super cheerful excited golden retriever girlfriend PLSPSLSPSLPSLPSLS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Reader is sunny , always smiling , laughing , extroverted , very strangely optimistic ^_^

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o. 📝 ik the ask called for fem! reader but this can be read gn! as well. GOOSH I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO… ALSO i knew that if i just did this regularly for everyone it’d start becoming repetitive in each one, so i put them into categories first and then wrote down what might be different with each hashira— hence why some entries are pretty short. SORRY AGAIN!!

word count : 1.3k+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘉𝘌𝘚𝘛 — 𝘚𝘜𝘙𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘚

MATCHES your energy perfectly. absolutely loves the positive vibes, it makes their entire day and they live for it.

— rengoku, mitsuri, tengen (mostly)

FINDS it refreshing. the corps needs more people like you to make the negative energies of demon slaying wash away. may not completely match your energy, but it makes them happy no doubt to see you spreading that positivity (it’ll rub off on them soon enough if it hasn’t already).

— shinobu, obanai, gyomei

FOUND you annoying at first. absolutely thought you were stupid. though, in the end, they fell anyways without meaning to— soon finding your positivity and shining personality charming.

— sanemi

TREATS you like an any other day person they’d react with on a daily basis until you start spending more and more time with them, congrats! you’ve invaded their hearts.

— giyu, muichiro

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

— you distract him from everything. you’re always so bright and happy that whenever he’s around you he can’t help but smile and forget all his worries and stresses.

— he likes that this is your true personality, not just some act.

— definitely falls further in love when you defend him from other slayers who question his capabilities as hashira due to his lack of sight.

— AND HE WILL DEFEND YOU whenever he senses that you’re sad because of another person. he cannot stand to hear you feel upset. it’s one of the rare times he’s passively aggressive towards someone, he simply just cares for you so much.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— finds you interesting. and when he spots an interesting person, you best believe he’s going to investigate.

— loves talking to you about nothing in particular, whether you’re leading or he’s leading the conversation it’s bound to be a unique and enlightening chat.

— ABSOLUTELY bedazzles you with some of his flashy items so that you’re positively shining in and out.

— sometimes when he’s just down in the dumps he may find your positivity annoying and will voice it, but he always backtracks when he sees your smile go a fraction lower.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

— this is a trope. it’s called extrovert x introvert. it’s also another trope called yapper x listener.

— you will spout out a whole paragraph or two about something and he’ll just give you a few nods to show he’s paying attention, maybe voicing his opinions once in a while with just a few words. but he’s definitely listening, after all, he loves hearing you speak.

— you go from just another person in his life to something way different, someone who recognizes him for something and doesn’t shun him like the others.

— he thinks that maybe—with you being a “look on the bright side,” kind of person—you’ll be able to see him from an angle that practically no one takes the time to see for themselves.

— he lets you hug him whenever you’re happy, but at the same time he hopes that you don’t hear his heart going a mile a second.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

— it’s funny, really; how fast his memories from way back when go to rest whenever you’re nearby, how immediate the thoughts of his scars disappear as you come into view.

— he admires your consistency to stay positive among the lifelong struggles in this job as a demon slayer.

— showed his scars to you early on after you convinced him that looks alone wouldn’t change your opinions on him. he’s so glad he did, because after some much needed pep talking he’s absolutely ecstatic. he can breathe easier around you now, taking off the bandages whenever he likes because you’re just that much of a comfort to him.

— possessive & protective, if someone’s making you sad they are DEAD MEAT. HIDE

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

— fell so hard. and he didn’t even notice it! that smooth road from hating you to loving you never crossed any speed bumps that let him figure it out, it just hit him one day.

— “you can’t find positivity in everything. you’re bound to wake up to reality somewhere along this line of work.” sanemi said this to help himself so that he’d never be so hurt by your eventual sad expressions from who knows what. the only thing it succeeded in doing was convince you to prove him wrong.

— has the prettiest color on his face when he blushes at you complimenting or being enthusiastic at spending time with him, even if you’re enthusiastic at spending time with every hashira.

— it’s funny cuz he’ll just go from being so aggressive and mean towards you to just one day out of the blue being unusually gentle and kind. you bet he’ll be the first one to beat up whoever makes you cry or help you with your problems, because even if this man doesn’t see it, he is absolutely WHIPPED.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

— he just wants to hug you every time you’re around (and he does, with your consent of course)!

— two golden retrievers running around with no leashes and no restraints. everyone should be terrified

— he’s happy that there’s someone in the corps he can really talk to for days on end about anything if he’s ever looking for positive outlooks. someone who sees his point of views and matches his overly optimistic nature.

— gets a lil jealous when you’re like this around tengen but we shall not elaborate as he’s stomped those feelings down long ago

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

— LOVES your energy SO MUCH. it makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you talk and laugh around her; she feels wanted.

— your hype girl. she will absolutely cheer for you whenever you need it and she’ll squeal when you pay her back with hugs or compliments.

— she never seems to need any words or comfort from you whenever she’s sad, because every time you walk in her point of view she immediately lights up and her mood does a whole switch.

— clicked easily with you when you first got introduced, definitely love at first sight for her.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

— she’s surprised at first at how happy you could be in this line of profession, but soon after spending some more time with you she understands. you’ve given her a new reason to be happy everyday and she cherishes her genuine happiness closely.

— she refrains from teasing you as she does with giyu, because unlike with him she can’t stand to see your smile break even a little bit.

— likes the positive role model you present to her patients, encouraging them that everything was going to be okay and uplifting all the moods of all the people you speak with in her estate.

— eventually her own smiles will mirror your unfeigned ones over time. she thanks you heavily for that.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

— aloof with you as he does with most others at first. doesn’t understand the point and why you want to spend time with him so much—why it’d bring you so much joy to be around him.

— eventually he learns to tolerate it which leads to his days feeling unusually empty without you. he subconsciously asks for more missions with you with reasons that don’t fully make sense, but they’re more believable than “i don’t want to be apart from them.”

— and then when he regains his memories and the fog from his head is lifted; he’s absolutely smiling every time you’re around. he still dazes out of conversations once in a while, but that’s only because he’s busy looking at you.

— he comes to full terms with himself and hugs you a lot (to the point where he’d been called clingy by tengen a few times). he’s so, so happy with you and hopes you never fall to the line of work that you both reside in.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[pinkiemachine]

I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

[svndaysaweek]

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on. 

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder. 

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down. 

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass. 

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom. 

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear. 

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that. 

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan. 

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you. 

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes. 

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you. 

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more. 

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.”  With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind. 

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

[shalotttower]

A Natural Benefit

Title: A Natural Benefit

Fandom: Death Note

Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)

Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.

Word count: 2100+

Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House

"Would you indulge me?"

Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.

His habits are strange but harmless.

"No," you say, just to be contrary.

L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.

"I want to kiss you."

"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"

"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.

"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."

"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.

"Because I don't want to."

A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.

L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.

He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"

Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.

"No."

He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.

"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."

Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.

"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."

He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."

Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.

He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.

L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.

______________________________________________________

You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.

He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.

"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.

"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.

"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."

"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.

You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.

L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.

"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will."

L hums. "Want a bet?"

Your eyes narrow.

"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I leave you alone for two days."

There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.

You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.

A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.

It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.

"The speakers?"

"Switched off."

"The cameras?"

"Those will stay."

Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.

L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.

Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.

Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.

"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.

______________________________________________________

Twelve minutes.

Three more and he's dead.

You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.

_______________________________________________________

The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.

When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.

"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.

That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.

You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.

L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.

Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.

It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.

You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.

There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.

You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.

Anticipation.

"Fine," you say finally.

His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.

He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.

You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.

Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.

"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.

He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.

Band-aids and ripping them off.

You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.

He tastes like caramel popcorn.

Mint tea.

Indulgence.

The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.

It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.

"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."

Technicalities and loopholes.

L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.

"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."

You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.

"I told you it would benefit us both."

[islandofsages]

So i got some silly idea, Can i request Savanaclaw dorm with male raccoon beastman reader 🦝 (who is also a third year Savanaclaw student) that likes to ✨ collect trash ✨ and ✨ dumpster driving ✨ Like, He is not poor but he just likes to do that. Thanks! Have a great day!

characters: the savanaclaw boys x male raccoon beastman third year reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines format

warnings: none

author's notes: i feel like i made dumpster-diving sound like thrifting in this ... i love thrifting can you tell

Leona Kingscholar

“...Whaddya think ya’re doing?”

Oh, you thought it was obvious but apparently not. You're dumpster diving obviously

A better question would be what is Leona Kingscholar doing near a bunch of dumpsters. You point this out to him

He actually seems to ponder that question for a second. What is he doing there, entertaining some dumpster-diver? Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter

His face merely contorts into an irritated frown and he mumbles something about “fucking raccoon beastpeople and their weird habits” then walks off

You watch his silhouette grow smaller by the second then shrug to yourself. His loss

He doesn’t say anything when you come back to the dorms carrying the junk you get from your scavenging but you can tell he’s somewhat curious of what you found

One time you come back bringing a wholeass couch and it’s somehow in mint condition - he’s more bewildered by the people who’s throwing the trash than you at this point

It’s definitely not for him but as long as you don’t bother him and that you’re happy, he doesn’t say a word about your habits.

Jack Howl

He tries not to be too judgemental since there’s all kinds of people in NRC and he feels like he’s definitely seen weirder things by now

He’s a little confused but he got the spirit! Spirit of what exactly? Spirit of supporting you and respecting his upperclassmen obviously

He’s somewhat stiff around you since you’re older and he doesn’t want to offend you in any way - so you make an effort to make him more comfortable around you

You’d tell him about what you find in your little adventures and he seems to be amused by the kind of stuff people easily throw away here

“That’s part of the magic! Plus, once you get used to the stench and filth, it’s really not all that bad.”

He believes and trusts your words but he still won’t try it for himself. He’ll leave it all up to you and your expertise

Sooner or later, with enough storytelling, a smile on his face becomes a common look for him whenever you’re around

You’d even bring him back stuff you found that you think he’d like (after thoroughly washing them and bringing them back to the best condition of course)

Whenever you see him use the stuff you give to him, whether it’s a decoration in his room or it’s on his person, you feel a little proud of the bond you’ve nurtured with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

He understands the need to stoop to that level but when you tell him you don’t even need the stuff you collect and just do it for fun, he’s silent for a bit

Still won’t judge you for it! Plus sometimes he gets the good stuff from your scavenges so he’s not complaining

Once he gets curious enough, he’ll tag along on the diving… and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

It’s stinky and dirty but sometimes he really hits the jackpot in some of the dumpsters. It’s like a thrift store but even cheaper somehow

“(Y/N), look at what I found! Are you seeing this right now?”

You unironically become dumpster-diving buddies and the two of you would review the stuff you got after each session to decide if you’re going to keep some or not

You guys can probably get a lot of clout if you start a YouTube channel

You two grow a lot closer after enlightening him of the joys of dumpster-diving, which you aren’t too surprised about since it’s a common bonding experience for you raccoon beastpeople

But as you look back on your memories of junk-collecting and look forward towards Ruggie's laugh, you can’t help but laugh with him.

[randomness-is-my-order]

since i’m on my third mdzs brainrot of the year, let me just say: it’s enlightening how this story, spread over multiple volumes, goes over the simple but undeniably true reality that even while doing almost everything “right” you can still be horribly “wrong” in the eyes of society. how wei wuxian would bend over backwards to follow his morals (which have been narratively shown to be somewhat the standard) but still be condemned at large because he didn’t go about it the way that was perfectly compliant with what his social superiors and other authority figures expected of him. how “good” deeds in the mdzs world (and ours) will only be accepted and praised, coming from someone of lower social standing, if they are packaged in an unobstrusive manner–and sometimes, not even then. and it’s funny how some people miss that, how they wonder what would have happened if wei wuxian had been just a bit more tempered, a bit more subservient, a bit more polite. how the expectation of delivering his kindnesses in the most unhindering manner possible is somehow an acceptable train of thought–how the burden to do better is not unequivocally placed on people like JGS, Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue, the Lans, etc.

some people think that wei wuxian using demonic cultivation in the eyes of the cultivation world is his downfall. nevermind the fact that he literally isn’t practicing mo dao–this whole issue is NOT about what he’s doing, but about who he is. mxtx has made that clear at multiple points in the novels but the most glaring example is, ofcourse, how the nie sect is allowed to mess with resentful energy all they like and since they are a powerful enough sect, they face no social or political backlash for it–not in the way that wei wuxian does. even then, during the war, those people had no qualms against weaponising wei wuxian’s powers for their benefit. if it truly was about the dubious morality of using mo dao for them then wei wuxian should have been condemned from the get-go. but it’s not. it’s about the son of a servant wielding enough power to change the tides of a war and then surviving to tell the tale and continue to live with the kind of power that shouldn’t be held by someone of his station. it’s about people quaking in their boots because wei wuxian has shown himself as someone who won’t conform, who won’t become a dancing monkey for their tunes.

yes, wei wuxian is not some perfect angel saint but then, why the fuck should he be??? this expectation from some readers and the members of his world alike, that wei wuxian should have been the one to give it his all and more to avoid conflict is blasphemous. in the end, wei wuxian chose his path, stuck to his ideals, and went down throwing a big fuck you at the larger cultivation world’s back, while the rest failed to break the cycle of power abuse. the fact that it took them more than a year to see him to death is just a testament to how well wei wuxian handled things than some grace given by the cultivation world. the whole “wei wuxian’s first death was inevitable” is, for me, not about wei wuxian slowly spiralling and things getting out of hand. his death was inevitable because corrupt people with power will always choose to exploit and silence, will always choose to exert their will, will always choose to hurt those lower in the chain. and that is exactly what happened with the ambush and everything that led upto it.

[ryescapades]

can i request Narumi x reader but the reader is similar to Dazai(not really but i forgot who else that i could make an example of) ? Very silly and people underastimate them because of that but when the situation calls for it they're scary as hell.

Maybe Narumi underastimate them at first, and then he saw how scary they actually are but instead of going 100% scared he's like "thats kinda hot"

Maybe the reader is a captain/vice-captain of another division or a platoon leader. Also, make the personality EXTRA silly(the reader is doing it on purpose) like airhead, silly, and very naive (the reader is faking it and people actually fell for that act)

caprice | narumi gen

— three times narumi noticed you during the joint training session between the first and third divisions, slowly getting to know you from afar and the one time he inadvertently decided to fall for you (literally).

genre/warning: gn platoon leader dazai!reader, fluff, inaccurate use of scientific conditions and processes, idk if reader is silly enough here... i tried my best ok TT

a/n: uh another long fic haha thank you for the request!! dazai is actually one of my top kinnies but i'm not sure if this is even good, anon i'm rly sorry if it's not up to your standards 🥲 also here's the menace :3

3.4k wc hoshina | extra

the first time narumi gen met you, a member he'd assumed was from the third division, the only thing that was on his mind was what the fuck?

no, literally.

because what the fuck were you doing being hung upside down in the first division's gym room, discussing about god knows what with his platoon leaders?

"wait, wait, i think i'm finally feeling it!" you squealed, arms expanding to the side to distance the others from your hanging body. "whoa! is it working, is it working?" tachibana inquires excitedly beside an entertained-looking shinonome. "are you really sure this method is even legit?" the latter added, amusement clear in her eyes.

"what the hell are you guys doing?" narumi couldn't help himself from intervening the scene, for the sheer incredulity had taken over him before he even had the time to think it over. the three of you turned to face him in surprise.

his own subordinates straightened up to give him a salute, while it took you a few minutes before you did too. "ara, if it isn't captain narumi himself," you mused. narumi only raised an eyebrow, not shocked in the slightest that you knew him as he waited for a reply to his earlier question. at that, your expression enlightened.

"oh, right! your platoon leaders here were meditating earlier and tachibana-san almost dozed off... so i suggested a method to feel less sleepy. being hung like this makes you feel the blood rushes to your head, you know? it's such an exhilarating feeling for real," you claimed, resulting in the captain to gaze at you questioningly as your thumb and pointer fingers perched below your chin almost proudly.

narumi blinked, thinking about how... odd this person— you— was. is the third division only consisted of weirdos? must be some random low-class officer meeting those two on accident, he thought, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

it was not long after that when the first division's captain saw you again, this time in the mess hall where you were sitting with some familiar faces from the third division, which only reinforced his theory that you were indeed from the third.

"reno, have you watched the new movie i talked about before?" furuhashi asked, swallowing his food before looking at his fellow officer. "oh, the one with that famous actor from russia? no, i haven't. isn't that movie adult-rated though?" the silver-haired prodigy asked.

"whaaat? why are you children watching movies about people who play hide the salami, huh!?" kafka scolded, causing furuhashi to counter back, "who the heck even says 'hide the salami' these days, old man?!" by then you just arrived with your tray of food, hearing only one-fourth of the sentence when you took a seat beside the older man.

"oohh, are we pranking someone?" you butt in eagerly, joining in the conversation. the other three snapped their heads towards you in confusion. "prank? who said anything about a prank?" reno asked, head tilting to the side.

you smiled, blinking owlishly at his question. "hide the salami? why are we hiding food if not for a prank...?" your eyes bounced between the three men who were sharing awkward glances with each other.

narumi, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, nearly grimaced. so you're odd and... kind of an airhead, in a way. his brain concluded, simply observing when you abruptly pointed your finger at something far to the right, "captain ashiro, look! there's a cute cat over there!!" when ashiro snapped her head so fast, she realized a bit too late to catch your sneaky hand stealing a piece of food from her tray.

"hey, eat your own food!" kafka reprimanded as you happily nibbled on the stolen treasure but ashiro only waved it off, muttering about how she's gotten used to your antics by now, secretly fond of how your delighted expression itself comically resembled a feline creature.

"what are you staring at, baka shisho?" kikoru's jeer interrupted narumi's daze, causing his back to tense. "nothing. can't you go a day without being an annoying pest?" he sneers, which the girl only laughed mockingly at, though surprisingly she didn't notice that the captain was still snooping in to hear the conversation at your table, listening to the many obnoxious and bizarre (yet interestingly smart, he'd begrudgingly admit) ways you'd recommended to prank someone.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the third time narumi saw you, it was during a joint sparring session between his and the third division. he was initially supposed to be overseeing kikoru and her new numbers weapon suit but the commotion at the central area of the training venue had snatched his, and the other officers' interest instead.

it was you, preparing to spar with hoshina, his nemesis. in hand-to-hand combat, no less. not to add the two of you were going to use real swords, not the dummy ones.

"are they serious? why would they match up against hoshina?" "i know right... they're gonna lose for sure," "yikes, i'm sending early condolences to them right now,"

narumi had to agree with what he heard his division members were whispering about. sure, he sometimes thinks hoshina's skill level is below his own, but to spar with a regular officer? the swordsman is gonna pummel you straight to the ground, no doubt!

however, his chain of thought was eventually cut off when he later noticed that you were holding on your own, superbly at that. with every hit of hoshina's blade, you'd parried with your own and every small opening hoshina had unknowingly exposed, you had taken the advantage by striking just as hard.

the rapid sounds of metal clanging against each other were loud, echoing even. it was plainly and clearly visible to him that you're not just an officer.

narumi called for his disciple, "oi. who's that training with your vice-captain?" he asked, head nodding towards where you and hoshina were still exchanging blows. kikoru glanced at the direction he mentioned before she grinned wide and cheshire-like.

"oh, them. that's one of our newly appointed platoon leaders, y/n-san! such a spectacle to behold, i know! they're from the third, after all!" she boasted. a platoon leader? y/n, huh... narumi could finally put a name to that pretty face.

wait, what? who the hell said that?

the bicolor-haired man shook his head a bit before focusing back at the fight. "what are you gloating for, dumbass. it's not like—" his sentence died midway when suddenly a particular hard swing from hoshina had struck you straight in the face, causing you to stagger backward as your block was seen a little too late to cover the blow.

the atmosphere suddenly became silent and still, narumi's eyes widening in surprise at the same time as hoshina's in guilt when everyone noticed the few drops of blood through your fingers. "shit, sorry! i didn't mean to hit ya that hard! you okay there?"

narumi instinctively took a step towards your direction when your figure started swaying, his eyes unconsciously glaring at the violet-haired man as the latter reached out his palm so that you could show him the bruise but when you gave no reply, eyes downcast and body rigid, hoshina cursed under his breath. "fuck, y/n. i'm so sorry—"

"boo!"

the unexpected sight of your mischievous, uninjured face and only a faintly sliced skin on your palm greeted the crowd. an annoyed mark appeared at the side of hoshina's head. "you cheeky lil' brat! ya had me so worried there!" he scolded, his hands pulling on your cheeks so hard your eyes watered as you whined, "but it was hilarious watching you— ow, ow, vice-captain! that hurts!"

the others seemed to relax, and a few hushed murmurs entered narumi's ears.

"the heck? what a fluke." "right? there's no way they held off for that long. the vice-captain must have gone easy on them."

on the sidelines, narumi's mouth gaped open and then closed like a fish. was that actually a fluke, or are you actually...? he was slightly bewildered, not knowing whether to acknowledge the fact that you are, in fact, such a whimsical and unserious person he almost found it quite endearing (he didn’t bother acknowledging that thought), or that it was unnoticeable by almost everyone else, but he could see the scratches on hoshina's hands and face, the nicks his RT-0001 eyes had detected were done by your sword.

they were indistinct, hardly noticeable, and barely bleeding that it just proved how careful you were in handling your blade. what's more jarring, however, was that his kaiju eyes couldn't miss the deadly and almost murderous look in your eyes when you were exchanging blows with hoshina earlier.

narumi couldn't help but to smirk menacingly as he ran a hand through his locks, feeling enraptured by the sudden realization.

so it's not just hoshina he has to beat. there's you now.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

it was another random tuesday night when the emergency kaiju alarm blared, signalling the entire headquarter of the incoming kaiju attack. in the meeting room together with the captains and other platoon leaders from the third and first divisions, you were briefly discussing strategies and plans for the neutralization process.

"so it's settled, then. two platoon leaders from each division in one sector. make sure to remember where your group is assigned and keep track of any yoju going in and out of your sector before alerting the other platoons of it. this one might get messy," ashiro summarised before everyone briskly moved out, preparing to head to the kaiju location.

narumi, who had been halfheartedly listening to the whole briefing in boredom, pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed towards the door, before noticing a lone figure standing by the desk in the middle of the room.

you were staring hard at the splayed out map in front you, hands shoved in your pockets and head tilted to the side in what narumi assumed to be deliberation. what else is there to think about when ashiro already summed up everything? the man thought before he shrugged, leaving you alone in the meeting room.

the mission was supposed to be simple. tedious, sure, but easy enough for the two divisions to handle. take down the honju, then finish off the remaining clusters of its accompanying yoju— it was said they'd go berserk when triggered by the death of the mother— that were scattered throughout the district.

well, until it's not so easy anymore.

once ashiro had shot down the honju using the explosive power of her cannon, all the yoju had indeed, gone ballistic. the battlefield was messy with all the kaiju corpses and rubbles from destroyed buildings.

appointed as one of the main firepower on land, narumi's earpiece dinged, and the voice of one of the operations officer filled his ears. "captain narumi! sector d requested for backup just a few minutes ago but we've recently lost contact with them!"

confusion took over the captain's expression. backup? these lots of yoju barely have a 4.0 fortitude, did a new high-leveled kaiju appear? oh well, another material to be used in increasing my kill count and popularity if that's the case. his mind pondered as he stepped off the dead body of the kaiju he'd just taken down, his bayonet slung over a shoulder.

"aite, on it," straight away on the move, he considered the possibilities of a bigger threat popping up, like another one of no 9's creation, for instance. narumi's expression darkened at the thought.

however, when he arrived at the site, there was no commotion at all. it was rather quiet. he would've thought that no battle had happened here, if not for the concrete debris and kaiju remains laying around. he decided to look around and survey the area, just in case the information he received was just a small miscalculation.

it was not until he realized he had walked for too long that he froze. sector d wasn't supposed to cover this much space, so why were there so many corpses outside of the neutralization area? narumi tried connecting his earpiece, only for it to let out a series of crackles. this is where they lost connection, huh? he thought.

a sudden movement to his left had him going stiff before he swiftly and sharply spun, bayonet ready in his hand. irritation took over his expression when he saw that it's just an officer. "hey, i almost took your head! be more mindful next time, will you?" he chastised, causing the officer to bow profusely, cowering away from his large weapon. "i apologise, captain narumi! i was just wondering what are you doing here... the neutralization is already finished in this part of the sector."

"haah?? operations said you guys needed backup. what's up with that?" he complained, glaring at the officer who he assumed was from the third division since he wasn't a familar face to narumi at all. "oh, that's already been dealt with! platoon leader y/n had it all planned out!" narumi halted at that, now intrigued so he told the officer to fill him in on what happened prior to the mission.

---

"psst, you two! come here for a sec," the men in question, toma and ryu turned when they had heard you calling for them a few feet away from the mixed group of first and third divisions soldiers in sector d. "yes! what is it, platoon leader?"

"mind helping me out for a bit?" as they immediately nodded their heads, you straight promptly explained what you wanted them to do. "so we just need to be on the lookout with you at the communication towers outside the sector?"

"ding, ding! that's correct! if you see a kaiju coming your way, just lure it back to your original post where everybody else is. i'll be staying back to tweak out some electricals at the radio masts." you stated.

with the yoju having a bat-like behavior, you'd theorized that they would use ultrasonic echolocation to create a radio wave disturbance that could badly affect the earpieces you're using. despite how low the kaiju's fortitude is, it's immense intellect make up for most of that small number.

that's why the yoju would've probably target the region with the densest wave energy, which is the telecommunication towers. with its echolocation and your communication devices pulsing simultaneously, they would interfere with each other and cause an overlap of frequencies. hence, communication lost between officers would highly likely happen.

"that's fine and all, but y/n-san... if the kaiju really is how you speculate it, what if there's a lot of them coming at once?" toma asked worriedly. "you'll die, of course." you simply answered, making the officers screech in horror, "WHAT??!!"

letting out a chuckle, you waved a hand in dismissal. "don't worry. if there are many of them appearing, just leave them be and return to your post,"

toma and ryu exchanged a look. "but then we'd be leaving you alone, y/n-san!" the latter wailed. at that, you hummed thoughtfully, "hm... i'll be the one dying then," you said matter of factly.

"Y/N-SAN!!!"

"how about we do rock-paper-scissors to decide who's fixing the comms?"

"this is not the time to joke around, platoon leader!"

you belted out a laugh at their unified shriek of despair. "it's fine, it's fine! put a little trust on me, yeah? if there's nothing else, i'll head on first. i'll be counting on you guys!"

---

"turned out the kaiju that emerged really did behave exactly like how platoon leader y/n had expected. i kind of felt bad for the first division officers that were assigned together with us because they weren't informed about the plan," toma, narumi had learned of his name, said.

narumi stood there, a tinge of amazement sitting in the far back of his mind at the thought of how meticulous you had been in planning your own strategies. although he was a bit annoyed that you didn't bother telling your fellow platoon leader or superiors— ashiro, hoshina, or him, even— about it. your officers were right; you could've died.

toma was about to add more when your sheepish voice in his earpiece caught his attention. "nee, nee, toma. are you free right now? or anybody, really. i've fixed the signals since it got altered again but uh, i kind of need some help with all these yoju around me," you said, not in the slightest worried about how dangerous the situation you were in right now.

in fact, you sounded like you were casually talking about fixing a broken lamp instead of trying to adjust the freaking junction boxes while being surrounded by a bunch of kaiju.

narumi zeroed in when toma cried out your name. "what? you said you already neutralized all of them, y/n-san! what do you mean there's more?!"

the first division captain immediately snatched the earpiece, completely unapologetic in his action. "your location, platoon leader?" he ordered. "i'm still at the comms towers— oya? is this captain narumi i hear?" he didn't bother answering before he was already running (not before tossing the earpiece back to its owner), leaving behind a flabbergasted toma.

when narumi eventually stepped past the metal fences enclosing the area where you were at, the rosiness of his irises detected not just the piles of dead monsters but also a horde of still-alive kaiju swarming around a radio mast. his eyes twitched, visibly annoyed now that he knew why his earpiece had been giving out static noises one too many times ever since he entered sector d.

he made a quick work of taking them down, slicing away and shooting at every kaiju that came his way. at one point, he heard a faint sound behind him. narumi was about to turn and finish off the kaiju that was ambushing him, but then there was a slight change in the air. it was heavy, and it was approaching fast.

suddenly, a figure dropped from above, plunging the kaiju straight in the core so swiftly narumi almost thought he saw a lightning strike right in front of his very eyes. with a power so dense it almost rivaled his own, the man could only stare as blood sprayed out from the dead monster, raining down on both him and you.

sweet lord, it was you.

with your personal weapon in hand, standing so gracefully on top of the corpse it had his breath stuttering in his chest.

fuck, that was so hot, narumi unconsciously thought.

you, with blood smeared everywhere on your face and suit, finally connected your eyes with his. "oh, captain narumi! i didn't think you'd actually come here," you exclaim. when he gave no reply, your eyebrows raised in curiosity. "did you get injured, captain? why are you on the ground?"

it was only then that he noticed that he was down on his knees (narumi? the narumi gen?? kneeling???), his own weapon laid at his side, neglected. what the hell? he refused to admit how powerful and magnificent you were that it had him forgetting about your little naivety, that it had him weak in the knees.

he shook himself out of his embarrassing stupor before quickly standing back up. "good... i'm good," narumi internally cursed at himself when he realized his voice quivered midway.

"anyway, what in the world was that?! your officer said you didn't inform my platoon of your little plan here!" he fussed.

"ah, that! it was a gamble actually. i didn't want to risk the lives of those who haven't worked with me enough to understand how i operate in this line of work. my subordinates knew what they were in here for," you explained, nonchalantly wiping away the red liquid from your face.

a gamble on your life, basically. narumi frowned at that. he was about to comment more when you turned away, though your face was still directed at him. "well, in any case, i think i should be thanking you, captain." you sent him a cheeky grin.

"huh, what for?"

"you said i was hot earlier. thanks!" with that, you dashed away to handle the remaining kaiju, leaving behind a flustered and rigid narumi gen as he watched you go on a killing spree.

in spite of your beauty and grace, in his eyes, you ain't no angel, no. you're a goddamn valkyrie, an ethereal being dancing with death in the middle of a bloody battlefield. and he— his heart, is a mere soldier ready and willing to be lead by you to the gates of heaven, he realised.

jp phrases used >> おや (oya), ねぇ ねぇ (nee nee)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[cainsau]

Can you do (Platonic) Homelander X reader. Like in S4E4, you were the only scientist that actually treated homelander as a actual human child and not a experiment, but then were fire for interfering with an experiment. And years later when he grows up and invite everyone back to the lab including the reader

Consequence || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Homelander x Scientist!GN!Reader

Summary: You are one of the scientists who worked on Homelander many years ago. One day he brings you back to the lab, for old times' sake, he says.

Warning: Canon typical violence and gore (not explicit)

Author's Note: Im so sorry but i dont fully understand your request! I hope this is close enough to what you're asking for :]

Masterlist

You recall the elevator ride from many years ago. It didn't use to be this long. Or maybe that's because you just witnessed Homelander shooting lasers at the security guards upstairs, all that to let you and him into the old lab. He probably can hear your heart beating abnormally fast.

"Do you think everyone will be there?" He asks.

You take a long breath, "Maybe not. Some of them probably don't work for the company anymore."

There is a moment of silence before he asks again, "Do you miss them?"

You think about it for a minute. His question feels like a test somehow. But, you've always been honest with him, and you're not going to stop now. "Not really, since they fired me."

"Right."

Homelander is a ticking time bomb. Since the beginning, you knew he was going to grow up with so much negativity from all that experimentation, and eventually explode. The least you could do was be kind to him, considering he was a literal child. Even now, you still feel a little bit of sympathy for him. But, it probably doesn't matter since he might have just brought you there to end your life along with the other scientists'. After all, there's no denying that you did work in that lab.

You sigh quietly. You didn't even get to say goodbye to your family when he picked you up at your current workplace.

The elevator dings, and the door opens, revealing the very same lab that you remember working in. The old faces try so hard to look delighted, but you can tell that they're as horrified as you.

"John?" Marty exclaimed in surprise.

"Homelander." The supe corrects him with an unending smile. "Just, Homelander." He then glances at you, putting an arm on your shoulder. "But [Y/N] is here too, y'know? You should greet them too."

You and Marty exchange a look. It's been years since the last time you talked to him. Though he's glad to see you after all these years, it is far outweighed by the horror of Homelander's presence.

Marty gives you a nod, "[Y/N]."

You return the nod, "Good to see you again, Marty."

"Well, well, well," Homelander steps forward with the box of cake while looking around, "I see that this place hasn't changed much."

He starts to talk and talk about his days in the lab. To the others, it might be an enlightening experience as he exposes their faults and... avenge it. Even if they didn't believe in god, they start praying inside their heads. Frank is the first to go, then Marty second. Thankfully, Barbara shows up before a third victim comes. But, oh, how wrong you are.

You stand there, breathing heavily, as Homelander closes the door to the Red Room. There's blood everywhere on his suit and hair, then as he turns around, his face is also covered in blood. But, the most terrifying part? His smile.

You hide your trembling hands behind your back. As much as you dislike how the other scientists treated him, you'd never think they'd end up like this.

"You alright?" You attempt to be nice to him, even if it's the last thing you do.

He laughs and approaches you slowly, "There should be more people like you in this world."

"You're one of a kind." He continues. "Most people are inconsistent. They're very prone to change, depending on where they are in the wheel of life- up or down- but, you? You're the same all around, then and now. That's great!"

He pats you on the back, leaving red stains on it, and guides you out. Apparently, he respects you enough to let you live, and not lock you in that room of corpses with Barbara.

As you arrive home safe and intact (physically, at least), you sigh in relief, feeling indebted to your alma mater for forcing you to take a class in ethics.