#the effect he has on me needs to be studied

[holding-monsters-hands]

Hello!!

I LOVEE how you write AM!! He’s the perfect blend of how he canonically is and how I see him being in love. So, could I request him with a s/o who has been bullied most of their life and now has OCD? For example, they obsess over whether or not they are annoying to others (maybe to AM himself)

Thank you!!!

WAA THANK YOU, I try really really hard to make these characters as (for lack of a better word) in character as humanly possible. Even tho I think harlan ellison would personally hunt me down and kill me for the shit I write about AM. /hj

Also I am writing this as someone who does not deal with OCD, and has only been around people with said condition. So I will do my best, but I deeply apologize if it’s not entirely accurate or has a full, deep representation!

AM with an s/o that has OCD

He’s a computer, and one that arguably has an infinite load of mental illness despite him not containing a human brain. He does not have a full understanding of OCD except from an outside view.

So, when he falls for you and witnesses what your day to day is like. He feels like any depiction he’s studied in both medical and entertainment just could not possibly understand the real thing.

Especially seeing how you have to constantly battle your own thoughts, and the negative effect your childhood bullies have had on that.

How you can’t really control those intrusive thoughts of yours, how they disgust you, how you fear what those thoughts make you as a person.

He does his best to assist you with constant, verbal reassurance. You can trust that he will never leave you guessing on how he’s feeling or thinking of you.

Even if that in itself doesn’t completely make the problem go away, he’s still aware that these are compulsive thoughts and actions. You aren’t doing them because you want to, and they certainly don’t make you a difficult or an annoying person. That, is a mantra he will constantly repeat to you until you tell him to either knock it off or he sees some improvement in your brain.

He’ll try and do things in your little routine to make it a little less stressful for you, such as when you ‘have’ to do something out of fear of something bad happening. He’ll count out the amount of times you’ve done it, or try and reassure you with logic. (Which, he’s aware isn’t going to solve much- but he’s trying.)

He’ll even offer to just.. tinker with your brain a bit, not because he thinks you need adjustment or change.. but because it just pains him to see you suffer, to see you deal with these unrelenting thoughts and compulsions. He wants you to have some sliver of peace, however, that’s something he’d leave up to you.

[mdhwrites]

I’ve been watching Amphibia while studying. I should definitely do a rewatch during the summer, but it’s occurred to me that Amphibia’s strengths are criminally underrated.

Amphibia feels like a more focused show than TOH. It has its flaws ofc especially in Season 3, but Amphibia’s cast comes across as a lot more developed than TOH’s cast. I mean, Andrias got a dedicated flashback episode and Belos didn’t???

Amphibia’s execution of the found family trope is one of the best things I’ve seen in animation. In contrast, I always felt that King, Lilith, Eda, and the Hexside crew are plot devices to get Luz where she needs to go. Eda has some depth but generally speaking TOH never “got into their heads,” unlike with the Plantars, Sasha, Marcy, Grime, and Andrias.

And I gotta praise Amphibia’s ending!!! I wish more kids cartoons embraced the idea of permanent, bittersweet change. The idea of letting things go but not forgetting them.

So while I agree Amphibia is more focused, I actually don't think that's what the bigger difference is between TOH and Amphibia that I think needs to be highlighted. No, instead, I'm interrogate something you said: Does Belos not get a dedicated backstory episode? For that matter... Does he potentially get MORE time spent on backstory than Andrias?

Andrias literally only gets The Core and the King. He actually gets VERY little screentime, mostly because the effects of his cruelty are more important than what he does himself. So for backstory, he gets 11 minutes. MAYBE you could stretch to like 12 or 13 if you want to include hints to Lief but that's all post her time with him. So 11 minutes because Andrias only gets one segment, not two.

What does Belos get?

Well... I think everyone just forgets about Elsewhere Elsewhen. That IS backstory. That is previous characterization. It's not a flashback but it is still interacting with a Belos earlier in the timeline, like a backstory exposition dump or a flashback does. And interacting with Philip is the main purpose of the A plot of the episode, even if it takes a bit to get to him and then he dips out before the end.

As the author of the journal though, he also counts for backstory whenever passages of the journal are told to us. It's unreliable but it is still previous characterization. So stuff like Eclipse Lake and the end of Looking Glass Ruins adds a little here and there.

Then of course... What the fuck do you call Hollow Mind if not a dedicated backstory episode to Belos? The majority of the run time is literally go through his brain, and his memories, to show his rise to power. His backstory. And while there is technically a B plot, it doesn't take up much time so probably at least a third of the episode is spent on this and these are 22 minute episodes. If just two thirds get spent on backstory, that's more than Andrias gets.

So why doesn't it feel like that? Why does it feel like we get a VERY complete version of Andrias' backstory, despite seeing cumulatively three days in a row of his life, while it feels like we were never told Belos'?

Efficiency. Amphibia is a VERY efficient work. It crams a LOT into its run times. It's part of why the episodes are so satisfying because they actually manage to tell complete stories with morals, sometimes their own A and B plots in an 11 minute segment and actually move the characters forward a full step within the span of that time. It does this while also being hilarious and action packed, much more than TOH or, honestly, a lot of cartoons. Not every episode segment counts for this but ESPECIALLY the important ones do and The Core and the King should be taught in classes for how to get across a character's motivations and backstory in a nuanced, breezy way while also being DENSE. AS. FUCK.

In eleven minutes, we get a clear idea of the utopia that Andrias used to live in, the cost of that utopia, the pressures upon him as a prince, how deep his relationships are with two other characters, Lief gets some genuinely good characterization that helps explain her choice, a logical progression of events that matches with the sillier side of Andrias we know of, an escalation and then a climax. We can VERY clearly see what Andrias lost, what he is trying to get back, and why he would want it back on multiple levels, both societal, familial and even personal, that will motivate into being a MONSTER for a thousand years. All while still being a lot of fun and having some really great jokes. It introduces so many elements but it never feels bogged down by any of this. Instead, it chose the PERFECT moment to get across everything it needed to and left very few questions that you as an audience couldn't figure out yourselves. This also all while being explicit about much of the motivation and what not instead of relying on background details.

Which TOH can't claim for Belos. In Elsewhere Elsewhen, we see that Philip hates witches, that his journal is unreliable and that he has ALWAYS been an asshole and a manipulator. That's befitting who he will be but doesn't actually tell us jack shit. It also includes I guess how he met the Collector but that's moving plot, not expanding on your villain. Because the journal is unreliable, it tells us very little to nothing about him except for some reason he donated his journal to the people he fucking despised. Then Hollow Mind shows how he came to power... But not who he is. Not his motivation, what he actually wants to accomplish besides murder, etc. like that. The paintings in the background tell you far more just by being far more suggestive of what he's been through.

TOH is fucking awful when it comes to density. Most episodes, not even just Belos, have the problem of only taking half steps. Each of Belos' parts are those half steps. Revealing only one or two elements when it easily could have shown more to be more satisfying. As an example: Amphibia has a GREAT episode between Ivy and her mom about rebellion, the consequences of fighting what your parent wants for you, why they might do the things they do, etc. like that. In 11 minutes, we get a genuinely complex relationship between Ivy and her mom who haven't had much talk about each other or their relationship up until now. Meanwhile, TOH decides to focus on Luz being expelled for the episode about Amity and Odalia, meaning Amity is in like... Three, maybe five minutes of that episode? A full minute of that being the intro to the episode where she's just showing off the abomaton?

Because it isn't actually focused on Amity, the relationship between Amity and Odalia isn't actually explored. Because they can't explore that, they also need to now make Odalia cartoonishly villainous so as to fit the fact that Luz also spends very little time with her due to making the conflict be about Hexside so we have to waste some time with a stock standard montage of Luz, Willow and Gus trying to get back in. And by the end, what is the resolution between Amity and Odalia? "Get in my way again and I will kick your fucking ass."

Much deep. Very brave.

There's TONS of stuff like this where Amphibia is genuinely the work trying to do more interesting, more meaningful and deeper things than TOH and managing to do it in literally half the time. If not even less. That breakneck pace is part of what makes Amphibia feel like a kids show but it's also what makes it just more enjoyable to watch.

Which actually makes TOH fit in better with our current era of streaming television. TOH is constantly baiting you for the payoffs it promises. It keeps swearing that its elements are deeper than they appear so make sure to tune in next week because this SURELY can't be all there is to, right?

Unfortunately, that is all there is to it. And once you realize that and look at the show with that sort of lens, it starts falling apart. It's part of why TOH should be thankful it was shortened. It lets people more easily claim that it just needed another season. Another fourteen episodes. That TOTALLY would have solved all the problems with episodes that happened even before the shortening.

That is extremely rarely how this works everyone. Sorry.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 21

Hello, there readers. Here is the new chapter. Enjoy :) And as always you're all awesome! ❤️

Don’t freak out if you can’t immediately channel your dragon’s powers, Mira. Yeah, I know you have to be the best at everything, but this isn’t something you can control. They’ll channel when they feel you’re ready. And once they do, you’d better be ready to manifest a signet. Until then, you’re not ready. Don’t push it.

—Page sixty-one, the Book of Brennan

This really isn’t necessary.” Violet glances sideways at Liam as we make our way toward the door of the Archives. The cart doesn’t even squeak anymore. He fixed that the very first day.

“So you’ve told me for the last week.” He shoots her a grin, revealing a dimple.

“And yet you’re still here. Every day. All day.”

“Come on, Vi. Don’t be like this.” I chided her. “Admit that you actually like him. Liam is awesome, you know.” I wink at her.

“Shut up, Aelin.” She retorts but blushes so hard, her face is almost red.

And that’s it. Liam’s charm is working. He’s courteous, funny, and ridiculously helpful. He makes it difficult to loathe his constant presence. I mean I tried to avoid him when we first met, but somehow he wormed his way into my life. And Violet can’t hate him either. Even though he leaves wood shavings in little piles everywhere he goes. The guy is constantly whittling with that smaller knife of his. Yesterday he finished the figurine of a bear.

“Until otherwise ordered,” he answers to Violet’s remark.

I shake my head at them as Pierson jolts upright at the Archives doors, straightening his cream tunic. “Good morning, Cadet Pierson.”

“You as well, Cadet Melgren, Cadet Sorrengail.” He offers us a polite smile, which dies as he glances at Liam. “Cadet Mairi.”

“Cadet Pierson,” Liam responds, as if the scribe’s tone hadn’t completely changed.

My shoulders tense as Pierson hurries to open the door. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been around marked ones before Basgiath, but the outright hostility toward them is becoming glaringly, uncomfortably obvious to me.

We walk into the Archives and wait by the table just like every other morning.

“How do you do that?” Violet asks Liam in a hushed whisper. “Handle when people are that rude without reacting?”

“You’re rude to me all the time,” he teases, drumming his fingers on the handle of the cart.

“Because you’re my babysitter, not because…”

“Because I’m the son of the disgraced Colonel Mairi?” His jaw ticks, his brow furrowing for a heartbeat as he looks away.

I silently squeeze his shoulder and he faintly smiles at me.

„I guess I’m really no better, though. I hated Xaden on sight, and I didn’t know a single thing about him.” Violet says softly.

Liam scoffs, earning us a glare from a scribe near the back corner. “He has that effect on people, especially women. They either despise him for what his father did or want to fuck him for the same reason, just depends on where we are.”

“You actually know him, don’t you?” She cranes her neck to look up at him. “He didn’t just pick you to shadow me because you’re the best in our year.”

“Just now catching on, huh?”

“Hey, take it easy, Liam. I needed time too. It’s not that obvious.” I elbow him in the ribs.

A grin flashes across his face, then he looks toward Violet. “I would have told you that on the first day if you hadn’t been so busy huffing and puffing about the pleasure of my company.”

I roll my eyes as Jesinia approaches, her hood up over her hair. “Hey, Jesinia,” I sign.

“Good morning,” she signs back, her mouth curving in a shy smile as her gaze darts up to Liam.

“Good morning.” He signs with a wink, clearly flirting.

It shocked me to my toes that first day that he knew how to sign, but honestly, I should have known. He’s awesome at everything.

“Just these today?” Jesinia asks, inspecting the cart.

„And these.” I reach for the list of requests amid their obvious glances and hand it to her.

“Perfect.” Her cheeks flush and she studies the list before putting it in her pocket. “Oh, and Professor Markham left before his daily report arrived to teach your briefing. Would you mind taking it over?”

“Happy to.” Violet waits until she’s pushing the cart away from us, then smacks Liam’s chest. “Stop it,” she whispers out loud.

“Stop what?” He watches her until she turns the corner at the first set of shelves.

“Flirting with Jesinia. She’s a long-term-relationship woman, so unless that’s what you’re looking for…just…don’t.”

Ohhoo, Violet are you jealous?

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “How does anyone think long-term around here?”

“Not everyone is in a quadrant where death is less of a chance and more of a foregone conclusion.” She says as she tries to calm herself down.

“So you’re saying that some people still try to make cute little things like plans.”

“Exactly, and those some people is Jesinia. Trust me, I’ve known her for years.”

“Right. Because you wanted to be a scribe when you grew up.” He scans the Archives with an intensity that almost makes me laugh. As if there’s any chance someone is going to lunge out of the shelves and come after Violet.

“How did you know that?” She lowers her voice as a group of second-years passes, their expressions somber as they debate the merits of two different historians.

“I did my research on you after I was…you know…assigned. And Aelin is really gossipy.” He shakes his head. “I’ve seen you practicing this week with those blades of yours, Sorrengail. Riorson was right. You would have been wasted as a scribe.”

“Hey, I’m not ‘gossipy’, you moron.” I scowl at him.

“That remains to be seen.” She answers both of us.

At least challenges haven’t resumed. Guess enough of us are dying during flight lessons to hold off on killing more through hand-to-hand.

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” Violet asks suddenly.

“Alive.” He shrugs.

“How do you know Xaden anyway?”

“Riorson and I were fostered at the same estate after the apostasy,” he says, using the Tyrrish term for the rebellion.

“You were fostered?” Her mouth drops open.

Fostering the children of aristocrats was a custom that died out after the unification of Navarre more than six hundred years ago.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs again. “Where did you think the kids of the traitors”—he flinches at the word—“went after they executed our parents?”

“I didn’t think.” She admits it in a meak voice.

Oh, Vi. I didn’t know her mother never mentioned it to her. It seems I am much more informed on the subject. Thanks to The General…

“Most of our great houses were given to nobles who had remained loyal.” He clears his throat. “As it should be.”

I don’t bother agreeing with what’s obviously a conditioned reply. King Tauri’s response after the rebellion was swift, even cruel.

The burning of Aretia, which had been Tyrrendor’s capital, to the ground had never sat well with me, though. Liam was the same age. It wasn’t his fault his mother had broken faith with Navarre. And I’m sure there’s more to it.

“But you didn’t go with your father to his new home?” Violet asks.

His gaze swings toward her, and his brow furrows. “It’s hard to live with a man who was executed on the same day as my mother.”

“No. No, that’s not right. Your father was Isaac Mairi, right? I’ve studied all the noble houses in every province, including Tyrrendor.”

“Yes. Isaac was my father.” He tilts his head, looking toward the area where Jesinia disappeared, and I get the distinct feeling he is over this conversation.

“But he wasn’t a part of the rebellion.” She shakes her head, trying to make sense of it. “He isn’t on the death roll of the executions from Calldyr.”

“You read the death roll from the Calldyr executions?” His eyes flare.

“I needed to see that someone was on it.” She admits it.

He draws back slightly. “Fen Riorson.”

She nods. “He killed my brother at the Battle of Aretia. But your father wasn’t on that roll.”But Liam was—as a witness.

“Vi, enough.” I try to stop her. We should not tear open his wounds.

She glances at me and I can see the understanding in her eyes.“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“He was executed at our family’s house.” His features tighten. “Before it was given to another noble, of course. And yes, I watched as they did it that time, too. I already had the rebellion relic by then, but the pain was the same.” He looks away, his throat working. “Then I was sent to Tirvainne to be fostered by Duke Lindell, the same as Riorson. My little sister was sent elsewhere.”

“They separated you?” Her jaw practically unhinges.

He nods. “She’s only a year younger than me, though, so I’ll get to see her when she enters the quadrant next year. She’s strong, quick, and has good balance. She’ll make it.” The edge of panic in his tone reminds me of Mira.

“She will make it, Liam. And after that we’ll be there to help her.” I grab his hand and squeezes it.

“She could always choose another quadrant,” Violet says softly, hoping it will soothe him.

He blinks at her. “We’re all riders.”

„What?”

“We’re all riders. It was part of the deal. We’re allowed to live, allowed a chance to prove our loyalty, but only if we make it through the Riders Quadrant.” He stares at her in bewilderment. “You don’t know?”

“I mean…” she shakes her head. “I know that the children of the leaders, the officers, were all forced into conscription, but that’s all. A lot of those treaty addenda are classified.”

“I personally think the quadrant was chosen to give us the best chance of rising in rank, but others…” He grimaces. “Others think it’s because the death rate is so much higher for riders, so they were hoping to kill us all off without having to do it themselves. I’ve heard Imogen say they originally figured the dragons have unimpeachable honor, so they’d never bond a marked one in the first place, and now they don’t quite know what to do with us.”

“How many of you are there?” I ask him, because I don’t know the exact number.

“Xaden’s never?” He pauses. “Sixty-eight of the officers had kids under the age of twenty. There are one hundred and seven of us, all who carry rebellion relics.”

„The oldest is Xaden,” I murmur.

He nods. “And the youngest is almost six now. Her name is Julianne.”

I think I’m going to be sick. “Is she marked?”

“She was born with it.”

I understand it was done by Codagh, but what the fucking hell? My father is a monster.

“And it’s all right that you ask. Someone should know. Someone should remember.” His shoulders rise and fall as he breathes deeply. He suddenly turns toward Violet. “Anyway, is it hard for you to be in here? Or is it more of a comfort thing?”

Subject change noted.

„It’s like coming home, but not. And it’s not that it’s changed—this place never changes. Hell, I think change is the mortal enemy of a scribe. But I’m starting to realize that I’ve changed. I don’t quite fit here. Not anymore.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Something in his voice tells me he really does.

That’s when Jesinia reappears, the cart laden with the requested tomes.

“I have everything here for you,” she signs, then gestures to the scroll on top. “And that is for Professor Markham.”

“We’ll make sure he gets it,” Violet promises, leaning forward to take the cart. Her high collar shifts, and Jesinia gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“Oh gods, Violet. Your neck!” Her hand movements are sharp.

“It’s nothing.” She puts her collar back in place, covering the ring of yellowing bruises, and Liam reaches across me, taking the cart. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She bobs her head and wrings her hands as we turn for the door. Pierson closes it after we pass into the hallway.

“Riorson taught me to fight during the years he was at Tirvainne.” Liam’s change of subject is appreciated and no doubt intentional once again. I still feel terrible. My farher is a monster. There’s no doubt about it. “I’ve never seen anyone move the way he does. He’s the only reason I made it through the first round of challenges. He might not show it, but he takes care of his own.” He glances toward me with a smirk.

“Are you trying to sell me on his finer points?” I ask as we make the ascent.

We round the corner and take the path past the Healer Quadrant.

“How can you do this anyway? Guard someone whose own mother oversaw the wing that captured yours?” Vi asks before he could answer.

“Wondering if you can trust me?” He flashes another easy grin.

“Yes.” The answer is simple.

He laughs, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls and glass windows of the clinic. “Good answer. All I can say is that your survival is essential to Riorson’s, and I owe him everything. Everything.” He looks me straight in the eye for that last word, even as the cart hits a raised stone in the paved corridor.

The scroll on top tumbles to the floor, and Violet retrieves it and it unrolls along the slight slope of the passage.

“Got it.”

The thick parchment isn’t eager to roll back into place, and when she looks at it, she pauses.

“What does it say?” Liam asks.

“Sumerton was attacked.” She flips the scroll to see if it’s marked as classified, but it isn’t.

“On the southern border?” He looks as confused as I feel.

“Yeah.” She nods. “It’s another high-altitude attack, too, if I remember my geography correctly. It says a supply convoy was looted.” She reads a little further. “And the community storage in nearby caves was ransacked. But that doesn’t make sense. We have a trade agreement with Poromiel.”

“A raiding party, then.” I say.

She shrugs. “No clue. Guess we’ll hear about it in Battle Brief today.”

Attacks along our southern borders are rising, all with the same description. Mountain villages are being torn apart wherever the wards weaken.

I hear an enermous growl.

„Sorrengail?” Liam looks over at her, concern etched between his brows.

“Tairn’s awake,” she manages to say, clutching her stomach. „Does it ever get any easier?” Being tackled by what they’re feeling?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Aon is pretty good at keeping his emotions to himself, but sometimes I can’t separate myself from him.”

Liam winces. “Deigh keeps pretty good control of himself, but when he’s angry?” Liam shakes his head. “It’s supposed to help once they start channeling and we have the power to shield them out, but you know Carr isn’t going to bother with us until that happens.”

I’d already assumed Liam didn’t have his abilities yet, considering he’s with us in every single class, but it’s comforting to know he’s still in the waning population of powerless riders with me.

“So neither Aon nor Tairn has started channeling to you, either, right?” Liam asks, a look of uncertainty, vulnerability on his face.

I shake my head. “I think he has commitment issues,” I whisper.

“I heard that.”

“Then stay out of my head.”

Suddenly waves of emotions washes over me.

„Don’t be an ass.”

I swear I hear him chuff a chuckle in response.

“We’d better hurry or we’ll miss breakfast.” Liam says.

“Right.” Violet finishes rolling the scroll and put it back on the cart.

---

“I want to be like the cool kids,” Rhiannon grumbles as first-years from Second and Third Wings pour out of the stairwell of the turret that leads up to Professor Carr’s classroom that afternoon, further clogging the hallway on our way to Battle Brief.

“We will,” Violet promises, linking her arm through hers.

“You may be cool, but you will never be as cool as I am!” Ridoc pushes past Liam and me, and throws his arm over Violet’s shoulder.

“She’s talking about everyone who’s already channeling,” I explain, juggling my books so I don’t drop them. “Though at least if we’re not channeling, we’re not stressed about manifesting a signet before the magic kills us.” The relic on my back tingles.

“Oh, I thought we were discussing how I just owned that physics test.” He grins. “Definitely the highest score in the class.”

Rhiannon rolls her eyes. “Please. I scored five points higher than you.”

“We stopped counting your grades months ago.” He leans forward slightly. “Your grades in that class make it unfair for the rest of us.” He looks between Liam and me. “Wait. What did you get, Melgren? Mairi?”

“Not getting into the middle of this,” Liam responds.

“Me neither” I laugh at him.

I had pretty good scores. Only thanks to Liam. Despite of his assignment, he still has time to study with me. And I will be eternally grateful to him.

I smile at him as we’re entering the bottleneck of cadets to get into the briefing room.

“Sorry, Sorrengail,” someone says, stepping out of the way and tugging their friend with them as we enter the tiered classroom.

“Nothing to be sorry about!” She calls out, but they’re already headed up a few rows. “I’m never going to get used to that.”

“It definitely makes getting places easier,” Rhiannon teases her as we descend the steps that curve along the massive turret.

We find our row and walk to our seats, sitting as a squad among the first-years.

The room buzzes with energy as riders file in, and I can’t help but notice that no one has to stand anymore. Our numbers have decreased exponentially in the last four months. The number of empty chairs is sobering. We lost another first-year yesterday when he got too close to another rider’s Red Scorpiontail on the flight field. One second he was standing there, and the next he was a scorched patch of earth. I kept as close to Aon as possible the rest of the session.

My scalp prickles, but I fight the urge to turn around.

“Riorson just got here,” Liam says with mirth in his voice from the seat to my left, breaking from the little dragon figurine he’s carving and looking up the rows toward the third-years.

“Figured.” I hold up my middle finger to him and keep my eyes forward.

He just loves teasing me. Asshole.

Liam snorts and grins, flashing his dimple. “Now, that we’re talking about Xaden. I noticed that you two are always bickering. Tell me, is it fun pissing off the most powerful rider in the quadrant? ”

“You could try it yourself and find out,” I suggest, opening my notebook to the next empty page. I can’t turn around. I won’t. Wanting Xaden is fine. It has to be. Indulging the impulses it gives me? That’s asinine.

“That’s going to be a no from me.” He shakes his head.

I lose the battle with my self-control and look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Xaden is seated in the top row next to Garrick, mastering the art of looking bored. He gives Liam a nod, which Liam returns.

Then he concentrates on his carving, which looks a lot like his Red Daggertail, Deigh.

“Then you should focus on Vi. She is you’re assignment, not me.” I shot back.

“I swear, you’d think there were assassination attempts on me during every class with the way he makes you shadow me.” She shakes her head.

“In his defense, people are fond of trying to kill you.” Rhiannon sets out her supplies.

“One time! It’s happened one time, Rhi!” She says as she adjusts her posture.

“Right. And what would you call that whole thing with Tynan?” Rhiannon asks.

“Threshing.” She shrugs.

“And Barlowe’s constant threats?” I arch a brow at her.

“She has a point there,” Sawyer chimes in, leaning forward from the seat next to Rhiannon’s.

“They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.”

„I mean, I’m not opposed—” he begins, his knife hovering over the piece of wood.

“Don’t even start.” She whips her head to face him and she blushes. “You are a shameless flirt.”

“Thank you.” He grins and goes back to carving.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Don’t mind her, she’s just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.” I say and write the date down on the empty page with my quill. Those easy, mess-less pens some of the others can already use is just another reason I can’t wait to channel. No more quills. No more inkpots.

„That has nothing to do with it.” She shots me a glare.

“And yet I don’t hear you denying it.” I smile sweetly at her.

“I’m sorry I don’t make the cut,” Liam teases. “But I can review a couple candidates, especially if it means you’ll stop being so edgy.”

“And how exactly would you be reviewing candidates? What will you be scoring?” Rhiannon asks, one eyebrow raised above her wide grin. “This I have to hear.”

I manage a straight face for all of two seconds before laughing at how horrified he suddenly looks.

“Thanks for the offer, though. I’ll make sure to run any potential liaisons by you.” Violet teases him.

“I mean, you could watch,” Rhiannon continues, blinking innocently at him. “Just to be sure she’s fully covered. You know, so no one…sticks it to her.”

“Oh, are we telling dick jokes now?” Ridoc asks from my other side. “Because my entire life has led up to this very moment.”

Even Sawyer laughs.

“Fuck me,” Liam mutters under his breath. “I’m just saying that since you’re protected at night now—” We laugh harder, and he blows out a deep breath.

“Wait.” Vi stops laughing. “What do you mean I’m protected at night? Because you’re next door? Please tell me he’s not making you sleep in the hallway or something obnoxious.”

“No. Of course not. He warded your door the morning after the attack.” His expression clearly says she should know this. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you?”

“He what?”

“He warded your door,” Liam says, quieter this time. “So only you can open it.”

“But if he’s the one who warded it, then he can get in, too, right?” I ask.

„Well, yeah.” Liam shrugs as Professors Markham and Devera walk down the stairs, heading for the front of the room. “But it’s not like Riorson is going to kill her.”

“Right. You see, I’m still adjusting to that little change of heart.” I fumble my quill and it falls to the ground, but before I can lean over, the shadows beneath the arm of my desk lift the instrument like an offering. I pluck it out of the shadows and look back at Xaden.

He’s locked in conversation with Garrick, not paying me a speck of attention.

Except, apparently, he is.

“If we can get started?” Markham calls over the room, and we fall silent as he places the scroll we had delivered to him before breakfast on the podium. “Excellent.”

I write Sumerton down at the top of the page and Liam trades his knife for a quill.

“First announcement,” Devera says, stepping forward. “We’ve decided that not only will the winners of this year’s Squad Battle receive bragging rights—” She grins like we’re in for a treat. “But they’ll also be given a trip to the front lines to shadow an active wing.”

Cheers break out all around us.

“So if we win, we get a chance to die sooner?” Rhiannon whispers.

“Maybe they’re trying a reverse psychology thing.” I glance at the others around us who are clearly overjoyed and worry about their sanity. Either I am a fool or everyone else.

“You crave the action just as much as they do, little one.”

“Don’t you have better things to do with your day than listen in on my private thoughts?”

“Not particularly. Now pay attention.”

“Stop butting in and maybe I can,” I counter.

Aon chuffs. One day I might be able to translate that sound, but it’s not today.

“I know the Squad Battle doesn’t commence until spring,” Devera continues, “but I figured that news would give you all the proper motivation to apply yourselves in every area leading up to the challenges.”

Another cheer resounds.

“And now that we have your attention.” Markham lifts his hand and the room quiets. “The front lines are relatively quiet today, so we’re going to take this opportunity to dissect the Battle of Gianfar.”

My quill hovers above my notebook. Surely he didn’t say that.

The mage lights rise to the Cliffs of Dralor that separate Tyrrendor, lifting the entire province thousands of feet above the rest of the Continent, before shining brightest on the ancient stronghold along the southern border. “This battle was pivotal to the unification of Navarre, and though it happened more than six centuries ago, there are important lessons that still impact our flight formations to this day.”

“Is he serious?” I whisper to Liam.

“Yeah.” Liam’s grip bends his quill. “I think he is.”

“What made this battle unique?” Devera asks, her eyebrows raised. “Bryant?”

“The stronghold was not only set for a siege,” the second-year says from high above us, “but was equipped with the first cross-bolt, which proved lethal against dragonkind.”

“Yes. And?” Devera prompts.

“It was one of the final battles where gryphons and dragons actually worked alongside each other to annihilate the army of the Barrens,” the second-year continues.

I glance left and right, watching the other riders begin to take notes. Surreal. This is just…surreal.

None of them knows what we do, that an entire village of Navarrians was ransacked last night along the border and supplies looted. And yet, we’re discussing a battle that happened before the convenience of indoor plumbing was invented.

“Now, pay close attention,” Markham lectures. “Because you’ll be turning in a detailed report in three days and drawing comparisons to battles from the last twenty years.”

“Was that scroll marked classified?” Liam asks under his breath.

“No,” Violet responds just as quietly. “But maybe I missed it?”

The battle map doesn’t even show activity near that mountain range.

“Yeah.” He nods, scratching his quill against the parchment as he begins to take notes. “That has to be it. You missed it.”

I blink, forcing my hand through the motions of writing about a battle I’ve analyzed dozens of times with The General. Liam’s right. That’s the only possible explanation. Our clearance isn’t high enough, or maybe they haven’t finished gathering all the information needed to form an accurate report.

Or it had to have been marked classified. We just missed it.

Or…they withold information from us.

I need to speak with The General. Somehow I have to gather more information.

“Careful, little one. You need to be careful when you uncover the secrets.” I hear Aon’s warning.

[bestworstcase]

do you have any thoughts on The Hunter’s Children? when i read it my immediate reaction was “this has to mean strq reunion” (and i have been banging that drum for years now) but i’m curious what you think about it

in general i read fairytales of remnant as an ozpin character study so i tend not to have STRQ at the forefront of my mind (see also: ‘the warrior in the woods’ was not originally about a silver-eyed warrior), and my immediate reaction to the hunter’s children was to look at this:

“No,” said the younger sister. “We need to study the Grimm, so we can figure out better ways to protect against them.” […] The younger sister ventured into the woods near her village and built a structure high on a tree branch from which she could observe Grimm safely. Whenever one came near, she calmed herself enough to avoid its attention while she made careful notes and sketches. But studying the Grimm in this passive state did not provide useful information about their strength and abilities in combat. […] “I was wrong. The best way to learn about the Grimm is by fighting them,” said the younger sister.

and then this:

This is one of my favorite fairy tales, and I include it here not only because its messages still resonate today—perhaps more than ever—but also because the hunter’s four children bear a striking resemblance to the four-student teams at each of our Huntsmen academies. One wonders if the king of Vale had this story in mind when he established them after the Great War.

and then exchange a meaningful glance with the corner of my brain where i just replay WOR: grimm on a continual loop and crack the fuck up. ozma modeled the curriculum of his academies on a story whose overt moral includes "scientific study of the grimm is a waste of time and useless, the right way to learn about them is killing them." and in the end killing is all that matters………

OUR marvelous capacity to learn from the experience of fighting grimm; THEIR perverse form of self-preservation making them more effective killers. salem is the funniest fucking person alive

also considering ozpin says it’s his "favorite fairytale" (and thus probably one he either made up in the first place or has retold often enough to have shaped the traditional narrative) and his CONSTANT PROJECTION,

“Because I hate the Grimm for killing your mother,” the hunter might answer. “And I hate myself for not being there when she died.” Dinner conversation was silent on those nights until one child would ask softly, “Tell us about Mother again.” And soon they would be sharing their favorite memories of her, such as her sharp sense of humor, her beautiful singing voice, and her gentle but firm hand in guiding their combat training.

<- this is about salem. or more specifically, it’s ozma’s grief and remembrance of salem refracted through an allegorical story about a man who couldn’t save his beloved wife from the grimm. (which. lmao.) and well. the lost fable begins with salem humming, and her way of teaching and training cinder is not far off from a twisted "gentle but firm" approach. that’s 2 of 3, and 3 of 3 taking into account her occasional moments of WITHERING DEADPAN SARCASM esp in narration and the "your mother said those words to me"/"hm! her again? :)" attitude she has adopted about these girls’ mother being her general and the "hm! you certainly do enjoy collecting assets!" gently ribbing cinder and the nasty "she thinks… she wants…" bit when she uses her sarcasm for evil. and "perhaps you and i can have a better working relationship :)" LISTEN TO ME. SALEM IS FUNNY. HUMOR IS HOW SHE COPES. OZMA MISSES HER JOKES…

ahem.

that said, rereading the story again i do see where you’re getting the STRQ parallels / reunion foreshadowing because yeah it’s.

younger sister: her semblance suppresses or banishes emotion with waves of "overwhelming calm," she uses it to go… live among the grimm…

younger brother: his semblance lets him hide in plain sight by closing his eyes, but grimm can still sense his presence; he stumbles around "safe" but blind until the younger sister rescues him.

older sister: her semblance leads her toward whatever she needs most, which in the story this turns out to be her younger siblings. she pledges her service to protect the village, but the grimm are so numerous and the villagers so upset that they’re forced to adopt a nomadic lifestyle to stay safe.

older brother: his semblance allows him to create a shared pool of aura between large groups of people connected by a rope; he travels around until he finds a surviving village and becomes their champion until they, too, are overwhelmed and forced to flee.

if summer willingly joined salem, then… yeah all four of these characters map very neatly onto team STRQ.

summer joined salem and learned from her how to tame / command / ally with / otherwise live safely among grimm; she’s the younger sister.

"bravado" is a description that suits tai’s character quite well, and when he’s "alone in the forest"—left by raven and summer and qrow—he winds up lost and blind, depressed, and he’s (emotionally) trapped there still, surrounded by grimm that have overrun vale and patch.

raven’s semblance links her to her family so she can always get to them; there’s some resonance too between the older sister’s leadership of the village and the branwen tribe in that the branwens need to stay on the move because, as bandits, they’re walking grimm bait. and the older sister is left behind, which is… pretty clearly how raven feels toward the rest of her team.

qrow as the older brother on the surface seems like he’s the odd one out but…considered metaphorically, the older brother’s semblance makes him weak when he is alone and strong with the support of a community, which is qrow’s emotional arc exactly; and the older brother also travels the world and (literally) binds people together, which, gestures at qrow telling yang where to find raven and bringing RNJR into the loop and so forth. also the clover pin semblance key change in v8.

…gonna put this one down as another tally in the "tai’s 'assignment' keeping him away from vacuo is summer" column.

[forcheol]

i am severely unwell after watching this.

cus why did i keep rewatching this video.

the fucking body rolls in that skin tight ass sheer shirt is fucking insane like if you wanted me to go mental just say that choi seungcheol when i catch you

guys i am really not okay. the fucking body rolls and the way you can see his torso moving like that so clearly because of the skin tight sheer shirt i’m gonna fucking lose my minnddddddd he’s so fine im gonna cry i cant do this what the fuck!!!!!

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something about Buck and learning and or teaching.

Something something about Buck teaching when he really needed to be learning.

I just keep thinking about how the show has increasingly - especially last season - put Buck into the role of 'teacher' - including his coma dream. (i'm using teacher for the lack of a better term!) and how in the aftermath of the coma dream - he's been trying to teach but it hasn't worked - instead he's been learning.

I've been musing on the fact that even back in season 1 Buck has been in a teacher role -

Abby learning to chose herself and go for her happiness,

Bobby learning to let people in and Buck being a major part of that because of their developing father-son type relationship

'teaching' Eddie that he could rely on other people for help

Maddie learning at Bucks hand that she didn't need to keep running, that she could lean on him for support and build a new life for herself

Ravi being tutored by Buck in the fire house

even Lucy being given advice by Buck - teaching her through his own experiences in dumb luck

Buck making himself into a teacher in his coma dream and the idea that all these people he has helped teach teaching him that he has a place with them and that he is important

and so many more examples through the seasons that I won't list or I'd be here forever!

Because there has been a lot of emphasis on teaching and learning since Buck woke up from his coma - he learnt he was good at maths, but then wasn't allowed to help Chris with his maths homework because it would be cheating.

used his maths skills to win at Poker - but got taught lessons even in victory - rather than teaching others lessons (whatever they might have been)

Natalia being interested in him because he could teach her about death and things going south pretty quickly when it became evident that Buck needed to learn how to live again rather than be stuck in death

And now we've had several mentions by Tommy of him teaching Buck things - teaching him to fly, teaching him Mauy Thai, all the way to him being his bi awakening is teaching him about a part of himself he didn't know. Things are turned on their head - Buck is the student not the master now

Even with Eddie this season, we've seen him teaching Buck things - rather than Eddie learning from him - Eddie handing over this really important thing going on with Chris - Eddie knowing that Buck would be a better option - that Chris would open up to him more - is teaching Buck about his importance in the Diaz family - re-enforcing that he is part of their life. Its also Eddie who has had the good advice for Buck this time rather than the other way round.

Something something about 'you like to be the guy with the answers' to Buck becoming the guy with the (maths) answers - only for it to fade away and now he's having to learn

Something something about the tie to Buck and death and the resurrection and how Christ was the teacher up to and immediately after his death and resurrection when he left others on earth to spread his teachings and he ascended to learn at the right hand of god

Something something about how that is the key to happiness and that is what Buck has figured out and that is why his journey to figuring that out has had him wearing the bright blue - because in Christianity - that shade of blue is the colour of the kingdom of heaven (because it is the colour of the sky!) so putting Buck in it at all these key markers of his journey is showing him as being on the road to ascension.

This post is a mess - I don't even know what it is any more! I started with one idea about teaching and Tommy and then more kept coming and we ended up here!!!!

[puppyeared]

for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........

[martyrbat]

as the crow flies - batman #626

[ID: Tim Drake under disguise as a female medical student. Tim just got hit on by a male student and avoided his advancements. He mutters to himself, "This is so not cool. Being Robin is cool and this ain't it." Alfred chimes in on his hidden comm, "You're the one who told him that you wanted more practical experience with disguises." Tim sulks, "Yes, but I didn't think it would involve me dressing up as a chick."

Alfred is shown in the Batcave with his arms crossed and with a slightly amused expression. He's standing in front of several angled monitors as he tells him, "Master Tim, you would appear far too young to be a male medical student." Tim argues, "I could be a genius. A doogie howser prodigy thing." Alfred dryly corrects, "That would attract too much attention."

Tim retaliates, "These boobs attract too much attention. I keep getting hit on. You made them too big." Alfred corrects him with the reminder of casual misogyny, "I made them big enough that you'd get preferential treatment but not so big that you'd be remembered." Tim tells Alfred he put way too much thought into that before he collects the blood and tissue sample he was sent in for. Batman speaks into the comm, telling him to bring them back to the cave. Tim looks up at empty air with a horrified realization that Bruce heard their bantering. He asks Alfred, "He was listening?" Alfred grimly responds, "Timothy, he is always listening." END ID]

[cerealmonster15]

ALSO when im re reading fics i wrote i explode when i notice i repeated the same phrase over and over and over again kfdlsjfklsd. why did i say a variation of "left as quickly as it came" three times in this one fic that im not even halfway through rereading.... #girl get new words

[hershelwidget]

I don’t know anymore have a Caleb prepared to Fight for his bestie

“she asked for no pickles” lookin scene

[pepprs]

hm. i think i am going to stop going to counseling. he does not understand me. he pathologizes things that are not pathological.

[sttoru]

Helloo, could you do a scenario where baby gumi can’t sleep because he forgot his favorite blanky at daycare. What would y/n and toji do?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. not beta read reader gets called ‘mama’. wc: around 600

“the little brat won’t sleep,” is what your husband says as he steps into your shared bedroom—the child in question right in his arms. toji sighs in defeat whilst megumi continues on wailing.

it’s been an hour since he’s tried to get your son to sleep. though, megumi’s stubbornness remains victorious; not without his beloved blanket.

“the hell do we do? kid just refuses to sleep,” toji continues. he walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down next to you. your husband clicks his tongue like he’s offended, “tsk. he even scratched me when i tried to pick ‘m up.”

your eyes travel down the length of toji’s arms before finding the little fresh scars. they aren’t anything serious, but they look like they hurt at impact. you know since you’ve been a victim to a toddler’s scratches before.

their strong grip needs to be studied.

“aww, that’s not good, ‘gumi,” you shake your head and jokingly frown at your son. megumi’s cries quiet down once he hears your soothing voice. he whimpers and blinks his tears away.

toji raises an eyebrow at his son who’s suddenly gone silent. he knows that your voice has a calming effect—it even works on the older man himself—but it’s still fascinating to see how easily you can take control of the situation.

“c’mere,” you coo at megumi. you take the little child from toji’s arms and pat his back softly. you kiss the top of his head repeatedly and hum the tune of his favourite song, ‘twinkle twinkle little star’.

toji balances his body back on his arms with his hands flat on the mattress behind him. he’s still impressed by how fast you managed to soothe your son, “hmph, how come he’s quiet with you?”

you glance at toji and catch him frowning—pouting almost. it seems your husband’s quite jealous of your parenting skills. or.. of the favouritism your child has, “heh, gumi’s clearly a mama’s boy.”

you decide to tease toji and he reacts like expected. the dark-haired man scoffs and rolls his eyes at your remark before scooting closer to you—leaning his head down to megumi.

the little boy sniffles as he rests against your shoulder. his big, teary eyes open and land on his father’s face that’s only inches away.

toji ruffles megumi’s hair, to which the little boy whines and huffs. the older man gently grabs megumi’s cheeks with one hand and squeezes them together, “ye gotta watch out, buddy.”

megumi squirms in your embrace. he tries to shake his dad’s hand away, threatening to bite it if toji won’t let go.

toji grins at his son’s sounds of protest. he can’t take megumi seriously when he’s all whiny like this. it makes the boy look adorable in his eyes—makes him want to tease him.

your husband clears his throat after catching himself smiling at the adorable sight. he continues his little teasing act by lightly nibbling on megumi’s cheeks, “‘m still y’r mama’s favorite, ya hear?”

you roll your eyes and giggle at toji’s words. it’s not the first time toji’s ‘fought’ with megumi over your attention. or over who’s considered your ‘favorite’. you know it’s all jokes in the end—but it’s entertaining each time.

“honey, he’s a kid,” you laugh softly as toji continues to tickle and nibble on megumi’s skin, making the little boy giggle but also squirm in attempt to make his dad stop.

toji stops for a second to reply. he’s got a cocky smirk on his face as he responds, “and i’ll fight a kid.”

. . . at least megumi’s forgotten all about his favorite blanket.

[jongseongsnudes]

stress relief

roommate!jake. 2.4k words. smut with a perverted jake sim ft. ??

“show me your tits.”

“what the actual fuck sim?”

“i said what i said,” the man says so nonchalantly from the couch, a smug grin on his face. the one you swore you were going to punch hundreds of times before.

what started out as a peaceful saturday for you to study for the upcoming finals, turned into an entire afternoon full of your new roommate’s bullshit. the man had come home early - for once in his life - and decided to blast a horror movie in the living room.

you knew living with a roommate would be full of compromises but he also knew you were studying and setting the tv volume level at 70 for hours was a bit ridiculous. the man himself was already enough of a distraction as it was.

“show me your tits and i put the volume down. it’s a win win situation for the both of us.”

you could only laugh at the proposition, if you could even call it that. the audacity this man had to even suggest a thing but what did you expect, this was jake sim after all. the fuckboy-est fuckboy of them all.

“you’re an idiot. i’ll just go study somewhere else.”

you were back in your room before he could even open his mouth, not wanting to continue such a conversation with the man. you were already stressed out over finals and with the heavy storm outside, you really didn’t need jake’s antics right now.

jake sim had moved in after your last roommate three weeks ago and well... it had been hell for you since.

you weren’t exactly the shy type but jake sim was something else. not only would he blatantly flirt with you 24 hours a day but the man had a serious staring problem as well. sometimes you’d feel him watch you from across the room, other times he’d gawk at your legs like they were there for him to look at.

... which they sometimes were but he didn’t need to know that!

you’ve had to fight back so many times to not give in, to not give into his shameless advances... to not get on your knees for him because the last thing you wanted was to get involved with your roommate.

“why leave the comfort of our wonderful apartment, especially with the storm outside,” your roommate’s deep voice knocks you out of your thoughts, making you turn around to see him leaning against your door frame, “my offer stands, sweetheart.”

“i’d rather be out there in the storm than in here with you.”

“you know that’s a lie, you’d very much prefer to be here with me,” he laughs as he says so, mockingly. you watch as he gradually walks over to you, cornering you back against your table with that exact same annoying grin on his face from earlier.

your breath hitches when he leans in even closer, almost closing the very necessary gap between your bodies. you’re now very aware of his gaze’s direction and it’s not at your chest where it usually is, it’s at your lips. a smirk dawns his face at your tense reaction, the man obviously enjoying the effect his simple words has on you, “why are you so flustered roomie?”

“i’m not. now- now move. i need to go.”

he doesn’t say anything but is still fixated on your lips and it’s making you more nervous than ever. you just pray that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now because you’d never be able to live that embarrassment down.

“can’t blame a man for trying.”

“you’re unbelievable sim,” you push up against him, sending the laughing man back a few steps as you hurry to grab your bag and leave the room before you do something you’d regret. 

“sweetheart.”

you choke at the pet name, again, your feet stopping mid hallway almost immediately to his call. you know he’s behind you, his much taller frame so intimidating and presence one you can always feel from a mile away.

and that god damn cologne he uses. the one that always heightens your senses even when the owner isn’t around.

“what jake?”

“i have a better proposition,” his raised brows are enough to tell you that he’s up to nothing good, that his next few words are probably going to be something only jake sim would ever say. “let me eat you.”

what.

“w- what?”

“well you’re stressed and i wanna eat pussy,” he confesses so nonchalantly, like it’s the most normal thing to say to your roommate or to anyone for all that matters. “a distraction. stress relief. call it what you must.” 

as ridiculous as he was, he had a point. a good one too.

noticing your lack of reaction, jake takes the chance to lift you up by the waist and throw you over his shoulders with ease. you’re screaming, startled at his sudden move but that only causes the man to laugh more.

“jake what are you AHH-”

your words turns into a squeal once he throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing amongst the pile of fluffy pillows. there’s no time for you to react because the man is already hovering over, his face now close to yours. his eyes are on your lips, as if silently asking for permission and for the first time since meeting him, this was the only time you wished he just went for it.

“jake-”

“although i can tell from your face that you want me to devour this pussy,” he says, followed by a satisfied grin, “i still got to ask, do you want me to?”

it was the first time seeing jake so serious, his tone and expression the complete opposite of how he usually was. he just never came across as someone who valued consent so much so this was a surprise. a good one.

maybe you had jake sim all wrong.

“i’ll leave right now if you want me to-”

“yes. so do something or i’ll change my mind.”

the instant change on his face is one you don’t miss, or rather can’t miss. it’s as if a switch went on in his mind, going right back to the jake you were so used to.

the pervert.

“relax sweetheart, let jake sim make you feel good.”

you watch as he moves down your body, quickly finding himself a comfortable spot in between your legs to settle in. despite how cold his fingers were on your skin, your body felt hot, every part of you is screaming and impatient for him to do something. literally anything.

“hm pink? how pretty,” he pushes your dress up as he coos, revealing your pink panties that were practically soaked right now.

but damn, what a day to be wearing a dress and cute panties. thank heavens for that.

your mind was too occupied with the fact that this was really happening to realise jake had already slipped your panties off, doing so with such ease. like an expert but are you really surprised?

“i know, i’m thaaaat good.”

you immediately roll your eyes at his non sense, like a habit. but you don’t have time to complain, now becoming very aware that you’re just lying here, pussy on full display to your roommate who’s a little too focused on your bareness for your liking.

it’s crazy how it happened. from wanting to stay away from him, turned into you wanting nothing BUT him.

“can- can you just hurry up sim?”

“patience baby girl. let me do my thing.”

“jake- oh fuck!”

his lips suddenly pressing onto your heat causes your brain to literally melt, everything immediately forgotten besides him. it felt so unbelievably good, your body feels as though it’s on cloud nine and he had barely done anything.

and true to his words, he really is thaaaaat good. to call him an expert pussy eater would’ve been about right but you’re never going to admit that to him. not with that big head of his.

but the way he’s licking you, that god like tongue, really is something you’ve never experienced.

“oh my god oh my god jake-”

“yeah you like that? you like it when i do this-” he kisses your core again, his tongue flicking just enough to get you whimpering and clutching the sheets. it was so evil of him, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and the man continued to do so, painfully slow.

he grips onto your thighs, holding them down harshly when you begin moving about. the grip allows him to shove his tongue even deeper inside of you, bringing you closer and closer to your end. everything was driving you insane. his hold, his mouth, his tongue, the noise... the man himself.

“i can tell you’re close. already,” you could feel him smirking into you as he spoke, as if pleased with himself, “go on, cum for me sweetheart.”

the use of that nickname, along with his quickened licks is what does it for you. whimpers and his name are the only two things on your own lips as you finally reach your high but instead of moving away, the man begins lapping at your juices...

and man what a sight that was.

you’re definitely remembering this scene for when you’re horny and alone later...

“you okay?” you can hear him ask, your mind still hazy and unable to process much at all. that was until his face pops into view again, the man having moved back up your body, hovering over, with his lips now slightly swollen and glistening from the scandalous activity a moment before.

“yeah... i’m okay.”

“you sure don’t look it,” he chuckles, amused by your dishevelled state, “with the way you reacted with just my mouth, i doubt you’ve ever been fucked properly. am i right?”

“well...”

“i can fuck you right sweetheart.”

your eyes almost pop out of your head, his words affecting you more than they should’ve.

silence then overtakes the bedroom as you both stare at each other but no one says a thing. there’s something noticeably different in his gaze, like he’s contemplating, like he’s conflicted and to be fair, you were weirdly feeling the same.

“fuck- can i kiss you?”

you don’t bother replying and lean forward yourself, slamming your lips onto his. the sudden move surprises the man, who looked completely startled, eyes wide. you find it adorable that someone like jake could be so caught off guard and you’re proud that it was because of you.

he finally kisses you back, with desperation, like he wants to taste every part of you. and you let him dominate. your hands find their way around his neck, wrapping around it in order to pull him down closer. it’s a move you definitely know he appreciates with how he’s smiling into the kiss.

“you’re so damn pretty-”

*ring ring ring*

the sound of his ringtone roars from somewhere on the bed, interrupting whatever he was going to say and whatever this might’ve led to. how quick he was to reach for it weirdly irked you the wrong way, irritating you for some reason.

“as much as i’d love to continue this,” the man says without looking at you, too busy with his phone to even see your changed expression, “jake sim has places to go. so the apartment is all yours for the night.”

and without another word, he leaves your bedroom, followed by the front door softly slamming. it takes you a moment to realise that he actually left, that he abandoned you. although he did technically do as promised, this wasn’t how you were expecting your night with jake sim to end.

with you left completely hot and bothered.

you don’t want to be mad, you had no right to, but you are.

without hesitation, you disregard the rest of your clothes and grab your own phone. you didn’t have too much experience with sexting but you knew how to entice a man like jake sim and this was definitely how.

it takes you a few moments to finally press that send button, knowing that you 100% will regret this later. but you couldn’t care less right now, you needed him. and as quick as that sent word appeared next to your raunchy image, the little seen word also appears... but no reply.

did he just... ignore your nudes?

a million things rush through your mind, like how you were going to face him from now on. oh the embarrassment. you could probably avoid him for awhile... but not forever.

“you’re so hot. can’t believe i almost missed this.”

“J-JAKE?” and to your surprise, standing at your bedroom door was none other than your hot roommate, who’s gawking at your naked body without shame, “d- didn’t you just leave?”

“i was going to but then these,” he reaches for something pink from his pocket, something very familiar to you, and dangles it from his finger, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you with these in my pocket.”

“you stole my panties? you’re such a perv sim!”

“i only perv on you sweetheart,” the man makes his way to you, one hand grasping the pink material while the other is now palming the obvious tent in his pants. the sight has you naturally rubbing your thighs together, something jake immediately noticed as well.

he doesn’t waste any time, quickly pulling his shirt over, letting you admire his toned torso that you’ve thought about way too often for your own good. and now that it was literally hovering over you, free to touch as pleased, you swore you almost came to the sight alone.

“the person you were sending those nudes to just then, is one lucky fucker.”

“w- what do you mean sim? i sent them to you.”

“uh no you didn’t sweetheart. you know someone else named jake sim cause i didn’t get them.”

“no... but... i do know someone else named... roommate...” your voice mumbles off as realisation hits you. like a truck. you had named both jake and your old roommate as roommate in your phone. something you forgot to change once he left.

that means...

*ring ring ring*

[INCOMING CALL: roommate]

“oh fuck.”

to be continued.

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

[saetoru]

BEWARE OF PHAGOCYTIC RAIN — AL-HAITHAM.

kinktober day three — aphrodisiacs ; find masterlist here

synopsis. the akademiya textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea, and mild sexual arousal. except the textbook lied. it’s not mild. al-haitham and you might need to pause your desert trip for a moment

length. 4.3k words (omg this is the shortest one so far)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs + dub con, mentions of injuries and blood (al-haitham gets stung by a consecrated scorpion), reader sits on his lap, hand jobs, unprotected sex, no prep, riding, creampie, implied (future) multiple orgasms, reader is mentioned to have a dendro vision + is a haravatat scholar

notes. i made this up. the new consecrated scorpions lore is that their venom can be a sex stimulant thanks

“haitham,” you complain—although, you probably really shouldn’t. in fact, you definitely should not complain. al-haitham has so graciously allowed you to accompany this trip to the desert, and you should not get in the way. still, your feet ache, and the sun is blaring, and god—would kill you both to have a break? “can’t we just stop for a bit?”

but with you, al-haitham is always patient. you can see him diligently take the time to be patient as he stills and sighs quietly, not letting himself ever get frustrated with you. “it’ll get cold if night falls,” he reasons, “c’mon, you’ll definitely want to rest inside the ruins instead of outside tonight.”

“but baby,” you protest, “my feet hurt.”

“i know,” he nods, like validating your feelings will make them any better, “but the safest option would be to camp inside the ruins instead of out here—”

“hey, haitham?” you cut him off, suddenly whispering quietly as you huddle closer, “what…what’s that?” he looks over his shoulder to where you point—and then he stiffens.

“oh, great,” he hisses, groaning under his breath, “seriously? now?”

what looks like a giant scorpion seems to be pacing in the distance, the large, sharp stinger on its tail clear as day, even from where you stand, a good range away. you’ve never seen one of these before, never even heard of giant scorpions that roam the desert. al-haitham has certainly never told you about seeing them, with all the times he visits the desert himself. he seems rather familiar with them, too, staring exasperatedly off at the beast as it circles the territory you absolutely have to pass.  

“why is there a giant scorpion here? are there always these things in the desert? i’ve never heard of—wait,” you pause, “i have a textbook from the akademiya on desert exploration. i brought it just in case!”

“we don’t need that,” he insists, “i’ve dealt with these plenty of times. just leave it to me.”

you’ve never been to the desert—but al-haitham always mentions the ancient letters he sees in the ruins he explores. it’s tempting; being a scholar is always the never-ending temptation of knowledge—and you are both haravatat scholars, after all. studying an ancient alphabet is enough to make you plead with al-haitham to take you with him on his next trip.

he can’t say no to you, of course—he never can. but it’s your first time here, and evidently…it’s not going exactly as planned. 

you open the book, skimming through the pages before your eyes land on a sketch that looks strikingly similar to the same beast you see in the distance. the textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. that seems like complete and utter bullshit—this seems rather deadly. 

“haitham,” you whisper, “i think we should leave. this doesn’t seem—”

“we can take it,” he argues, “i’ve taken them before on my own quite a lot in the past.”

“but baby, this one seems a bit big—”

“it’ll be fine,” he assures. 

you sigh, looking back at the book and scanning over the section that goes into detail about its attack patterns. “okay, fine—let me just read over how they attack so i know what to expect.”

phagocytic form—beasts enter phagocytic form immediately when in combat, resulting in an increase in resistance to all elements. there is double the resistance to electro attacks. well, you think, it’s a good thing cyno isn’t the one fighting today—otherwise, you think you might be screwed. 

this is fine. everything is fine. you and al-haitham both have dendro visions; this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

melee combo one—beasts perform a two-part combo with their claws. alright, not too bad. you can easily dodge that, you reason. melee combo two—beasts perform a three-part combo consisting of a single strike with both claws, a flurry of claw strikes while rushing forward, and a projectile fired from its stinger. now that seems a bit troublesome, but you’ve dealt with worse. 

“i’ll take care of it,” al-haitham calls over his shoulder, catching your attention as he draws out his sword. you look up from the pages frantically. 

“wait, i really think we should handle this together if we’re going to take this. just let me read on the attack patterns a bit more—”

he’s already made the first attack. you can hear the angry hiss of the scorpion, can practically see the fury in its beady eyes from behind the thick skull covering its head. al-haitham, to your slight comfort, dodges melee combos one and two expertly. 

maybe he was right—maybe you’ve been panicking for nothing.

you look back at the book. dig—beasts dig into the ground and attack the target from below, staying within the range of a visible electro ring. alright, as long as you leave the ring before the scorpion pops out of the ground, you should be fine. nothing to worry about. spikes—beasts plug their tails into the ground and rapidly produce spikes around themselves to shock targets. another easy dodge—you just have to make sure you escape the vicinity.

you look up, and al-haitham has already easily leapt from the ring and landed himself on higher ground. he waits, watches as the beast emerges from underground, and plants its tail into the ground—this must be the spikes. al-haitham is rather excellent at fighting these things—you have to admit. as soon as the spikes are gone, he takes his chance to plunge down, perfectly landing a hard hit to its head with the edge of his sword, making its body slump to the ground.

he might just finish this alone like he said. 

“there,” he nods, flashing you a smooth grin, “i told you i’d handle it. now then, let’s—”

the loud, sinister hiss from behind cuts him off—it makes you watch in abject horror as the scorpion rises and does a rapid spin. 

you look over the pages as quickly as you can—is there more? there’s nothing else on the page, is there? you quickly flick your eyes to the next page and—oh. 

oh no.

phagocytic rain—beasts rapidly spin and scatter many stingers into the air before slamming their claws and unleashing stingers down from above. these stingers, once pierced into the skin, can cause side effects as a result of consecrated venom.

“well, it’s never done that before,” al-haitham holds up his sword, getting ready to fight. 

no. he has to get away—he needs to get away. the words don’t come quick enough from your throat as you scream, “haitham, no! you have to get away—”

it’s too late. you can hear him let out a strangled groan of pain, clutching his arm as his sword instantly falls to the floor, a gash already decorating his skin from a stinger he didn’t manage to dodge. before you can even think, you grab your weapon and run, leaping between al-haitham and the scorpion and landing another perfect blow to its head—just before that giant, deadly-looking stinger on its tail can plunge into him.

it goes limp, falling to the floor with a thud, the glow of its body dimming instantly.

“fuck,” he curses—al-haitham rarely curses. this is not a light sting. “since when do they do that?”

“since forever,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of his cape to press on his wound and stop the blood flow, “maybe if you’d just listened to me and read the attack patterns with me, you’d have known that.”

“i’ve fought these plenty of times,” he says indignantly, teeth still grit in pain, “they never do that.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a know it all,” you grumble—but then you gently reach over, cupping his cheek as you trace a thumb over the skin comfortingly, “is it too bad?” you ask, concern evident enough in your tone that he feels slightly bad. 

al-haitham shakes his head, sighing quietly as you kiss his jaw. “i’ll be fine. i’ll just patch it up before we camp for the night.”

“are you sure? maybe we should—”

“it’ll be fine,” he hums, “their venom isn’t deadly anyway.”

—————

you and al-haitham manage to make it to the ruins by nightfall. somehow, miraculously, the two of you are able to trek towards the pyramid and seek shelter indoors for the night, right before it gets too dark and too cold.

al-haitham seems to act stranger and stranger as time goes on, quietly sitting in a corner against the wall and patching his arm up himself as you set up the fire by the tent. you look over at him and watch as he shudders and groans lightly. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” you ask in concern, walking over and sitting as you curl up next to him, raising a brow as his body seems to stiffen at your touch, “baby, you seem…”

“i’m fine,” he says curtly. 

you don’t seem to be convinced, furrowing your brows before pressing a palm to his forehead—hot. incredibly and unnaturally hot skin that’s flushed a shade of crimson you hardly see on al-haitham, even when you tease him in that cheeky, flirty little way of yours that dusts blush over his face every time. 

“haitham,” you gasp, hand brushing back his bangs to feel more of his skin—it’s only then, do you realize just how sweaty his skin seems to be, too. “you’re burning up!”

“i’m okay—”

“maybe you should take your shirt off,” you say quickly, wiping the sweat from his forehead as you sit up straight, “it’s just the two of us here, anyway. it’ll be fine—”

“no,” he grits, voice strangled, “i’m—hah” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, “—i’m okay. just leave me alone, please. i’ll just go walk it off in a bit.”

he’s panting. you can hear the way his voice is strained and the way his chest rises and falls rather rapidly. you should check the book again, just to see if there’s anything about the side effects in the event you do happen to get stung. 

“hmm, the textbook says—”

“do not read the textbook,” he practically begs. 

you do anyway. “possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea,” you start, glancing up at him and eyeing his patched arm, “well, there was some swelling. are you nauseous?”

“no,” he almost wheezes out. 

“let’s see, and it also says it can cause—oh.” 

possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea—you pause and swallow thickly as you read over the final part—and mild sexual arousal. sexual arousal. well, that would explain the heated and flushed skin, you suppose. and the sweat. you glance up at al-haitham—he does anything but meet your eyes. 

“i told you,” he says stiffly, muffling a groan as he crosses his arms and hunches forward, “i’ll be fine—”

“baby,” you hum, chuckling slightly as you run a hand through his hair—he gulps, still avoiding your gaze, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“don’t,” he warns, jaw clenching as he looks up and stares at you with that same look of hunger you’ve seen so many times before. it’s clear al-haitham is trying to fight off whatever he’s feeling—but the reality is clear. 

he’s very quickly losing himself to his desires. 

“but it’s just us in here,” you insist, hand trailing down his chest slowly before settling on his thigh. his breath hitches, following your hand with his eyes as it rubs along slowly and moves closer and closer inwards. “these ruins have been abandoned for who knows how long—and we’re the only ones from the akademiya cleared to explore them.”

“don’t,” he says again—there’s a warning tone to his voice this time, slightly more raspy and entirely more breathless, “if…if i start, i don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.”

“oh, but haitham,” you pout, slinging a leg over his waist and seating yourself on his lap. you stare down at his crotch—wet. there’s a very noticeable wet patch over the bulge in his pants. you wonder how you didn’t notice it sooner. “who says i’d want you to stop?”

“love, i’m serious,” he closes his eyes and swallows, panting as a bead of sweat rolls down his temple, “you should sleep. i’ll be okay—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, hissing as you reach past his waistband and free his strained cock from the confinements. 

it’s thick, his erection—probably far more swollen than you’ve ever seen it before. it almost looks painful, with how red it is at the tip, with how it twitches from nothing else but the cool air hitting the heated skin. you think it might just be aching, in fact, from how he whimpers as you wrap a hand around it, just barely squeezing, just barely applying pressure to really relieve anything.

“hmm,” you look down, inspecting, “seems sensitive.” you give it a slow, experimental stroke, instantly making him groan loudly as his head falls back, a stream of pre cum leaking from the tip enough to coat his already slick cock. 

“fuck, fuck—more,” he rasps, hand grabbing your thigh and squeezing hard to ground himself.

“okay,” you murmur, nodding to yourself, “very sensitive. guess we’ll just have to get this out of your system.”

you drag your hand over his length, slow at first, before building up a quick, steady rhythm—just the way he’s always liked it. you lean in, kissing along his jaw as he writhes under you while you squeeze around the base of his cock, rolling your palm over his tip before repeating the motion over and over and over again. 

his mouth is parted, low groans and the occasional soft whine fall past his lips, making the ache between your own legs worsen as you watch him fall apart. there’s a dull throb in your core, and you can feel the fabric of your underwear dampen, but all you’re worried about for now is the man before you. any other time, you’d think it’s a bit shameless, doing something so dirty, so filthy, so inappropriate in the middle of the desert like this–especially while on a research expedition, no less. but you couldn’t just leave your boyfriend to suffer like this, could you? what kind of girlfriend would you be then? and you’re not so cruel as to leave al-haitham to suffer like this all night, or longer, even—who knows how long before the side effects wear off? it’s the wisest choice to just help him, to take care of him like he always takes care of you.

that’s right, you think to yourself—you’re helping him like any doting lover would. you’re not at all interested by this predicament of his…or aroused, for that matter. no, you’re simply worried for him, and it’s up to you to relieve him of the painfully frustrating tension he must be suffering through after he so graciously fought to protect you from the dangers of the desert.

“jus’ like that,” he gasps as you touch him, chest still rising and falling as quickly as before—his shirt is damp too, a noticeable wet patch forming over most of it as the sweat collects on the fabric, “d-don’t stop—fuck, feels so good.”

“c’mon, haitham,” you murmur, taking your other hand to tug at the end of his shirt, “take this off—i told you, you’ll feel better.”

he listens—whatever is in that venom must be something strong because al-haitham is the most stubborn individual you’ve ever met. under normal circumstances, he’d refuse to take his shirt off even if, deep down, he knew himself it’d help. but right now, he quickly reaches at the hem before pulling it off, tossing it to the side as his bare chest is exposed for you to admire. his usual pale skin is flushed, a soft pink that glistens from the sweat that he can’t seem to get rid of, even as you work his swollen cock with your fist. 

it’s pretty, the way he sounds, the way he looks. you run a thumb over his slit, and he whimpers. not too often of times have you heard al-haitham whimper—but today, he seems to have lost any and all control, too busy thrusting his hips up to meet your strokes as he moans lowly. 

“when’d you start to feel it?” you ask curiously, pecking his forehead as you leave scattered kisses along his face, “how long have you been trying to play it off?”

“s-since…” he starts, but he trails off as your thumb traces over a thick being along the underside of his length, letting out a soft whine at the feeling before bucking his hip into your hand more desperately. you don’t think you’ve ever seen al-haitham so worked up—so needy and riled up and painfully fucked out before he’s even cum yet. “since i f-first got stung,” he admits through labored breaths, “just got worse slowly.”

“you should’ve told me,” you coo, “not like i don’t see you like this anyway. poor thing,” you pout softly, eyeing the way his cock twitches in your hand, more beads of pre cum oozing from the tip and leaving a stream down his length, “looks like it hurts.”

“it does,” he rasps, “feels…feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“don’t worry,” you hum, squeezing tighter around him, working him quicker as your hand jerks his aching cock off with a tight fist, “i’ll help you cum. ‘s what you deserve for fighting that thing for me. my strong baby.”

“c-close,” he says through a cracked voice, like the praise is enough to send him hurtling over the edge, “‘m so close—sh-shit.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly, pecking his forehead, “then cum, baby. think you’ll feel much better.”

you roll a thumb over his nipple, hard under the pad of your thumb, and enough to make him gasp loudly before he lets out a deep grunt, cum spilling from his sensitive tip. it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him—thick, endless ropes of hot, sticky cum coating your hand and his abs as you pump his cock through his orgasm. you’re glad you made him take his shirt off—this would’ve been an even more unpleasant trip if he’d had to walk around in a soiled shirt.

“fuck, f-fuck—so g-good,” he stutters, his head thrown back against the wall that supports his body, legs spreading apart to give you better access to working his cock through his high. one hand reaches to play with his balls as you milk his cock, squeezing as you stroke upwards and watch every thick drop of cum shoot past his tip. 

it feels like forever, his orgasm. it’s long, and his voice is strained from calling your name over and over by the time he’s finished—but he’s still just as hard as before. no—in fact, you think he might be even harder. 

“well…” you start, staring at his erection as it rests against his sculpted abs, “i don’t think that did much.”

“no,” he pants, staring at you through lust-hazed eyes, “it didn’t. but i have an idea that might help, though.”

“yeah? what is it, oh wise grand sage?”

al-haitham, for the first time ever, doesn’t correct you that he’s the acting grand sage. instead, he lifts you up slightly and pulls your pants down to pool at your ankles before lining your dripping cunt over his cock. you bite your lip, moving to ever so slightly drag his tip along your clit, making the both of you shiver with a desperate gasp at the ghost friction.

“i think,” he starts, finger circling your clit slowly as you whine before letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, “that perhaps fucking you might be the only way to get this out of my system. what do you say?”

“haitham, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his shoulders as you clutch onto him, “need you.”

“yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly, replacing his finger and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock, coating the head with the slick of your pussy as you quiver over him, “need me, huh? i thought i was the one who got stung. shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

you would scoff if you weren’t aching to feel the burning stretch of him intruding your neglected cunt—al-haitham always finds a way to be himself at the end of the day. always so frustratingly confident and painfully good at teasing. 

“fuck me, haitham,” you plead, pushing your hips down until the first few inches of his length push past your entrance, dragging his tip along your folds and pulling a whine from you as he chokes on a low groan.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, “so tight—a-always so tight.”

his hands grasp at your hips, slowly guiding you to sink all the way down on his cock, taking it inch by inch until he’s buried all the way, his tip nudging perfectly against that sensitive spot in the back of your walls. al-haitham feels like he’s been made just for you like that—fitting you perfectly enough that he hits all the right spots without even trying, without even having to angle his hips in order to give you what you need from him.

you feel sweat collect on your own forehead, mirroring the same glistening of his own skin as you bite your lip and whimper out a pathetic, “h-haitham, more—please.”

“it’s a good thing i brought you with me,” he pants as he snaps his hips up, his hands still guiding your hips to bounce on his cock as you pull up before slamming back down, your walls hugging his thick girth tightly while his fat tip presses against your sweet spot. “imagine where i’d be if you weren’t here. j-jus’ wouldn’t feel the same if i was fucking my fist instead of this sweet cunt.”

the stretch is too good—the way he splits you open as he bullies into your pussy, pushing past your folds and dragging his thick veins along your walls, makes your head spin, pleasure burning up your nerves and spreading across your entire body. your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin as he groans and tightens his bruising grip on your hips.

“b-baby—fuck, ‘s so good,” you mewl, “h-haitham—oh.”

“take me so well,” he says breathlessly, face falling slack as your walls flutter around his length and relieve the ache that was all too overwhelming just a few moments ago—being buried into your pussy is enough to turn the tight grit of his jaw into a loose, parted lips as he moans your name. “taking it so well, like the good girl you are. you—ngh, fuck—you want to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“i do,” you nod, sobbing as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harsh circles into the delicate bundle of nerves, “i do, i do—please, haitham. faster, need more.”

“yeah?” he lets out a strangled chuckle, biting his lip and groaning as you snap your hips down particularly rough, squeezing around him tightly, “you need more? i’d almost say you were stung instead of me.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving angry, red marks in their wake as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. you slam down on him with every roll of your hips, his own meeting you halfway as he bucks up, fucking into you—you can feel it, the impending high that you reach closer and closer to, every circle of his thumb on your clit and every brush of his cock against your walls bringing you close to falling off the edge.

“‘m…g-gonna cum, haitham—fuck, a-almost there, baby,” you pant, mewling as you throw your head back while he leans in to kiss your neck, biting hard enough that you almost wonder if there’s blood.

“me too,” he groans, “you…you’re so perfect,” you feel his head bury into your shoulder, his forehead digging into your shoulder as you cradle the back of his head with a hand and whine, “i’m bringing you to every trip—fuck you in every ruin i explore. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“yes, yes—please,” you babble, nodding as your back arches before you feel the coil snap—you gasp his name, a repeat of haitham, haitham, haitham, falling from your lips as he fucks into you through your high. the spasm of your walls around him sends him hurtling into his second orgasm—even more earth-shattering than the first.

“that’s it,” he moans, his voice deep and raspy as it cracks in the middle, “can’t even be mad i got stung—not when you let me fuck you l-like this. so…feels so good—’m c-cumming.”

it’s not the first time al-haitham has cum in you—but it’s never felt like this before. it’s hot, his cum—it spills into you and coats your walls in a sticky mess that forms a ring at the base of his cock as it pumps into you. the mess of his release and your arousal coats both of your thighs, leaking from your abused cunt and smearing along your skin. you can feel him twitch with every rope, can feel the way he throbs as he spills into you and paints your walls white with his release. it’s desperate—needy and so, so filthy, just like the sounds he makes into your ear, breathless pants that make your stomach do flips as you listen to him fall apart and break. 

he slumps as he finishes, your body falling against him as you both pant harshly and catch your breaths. he kisses your neck delicately as you stroke his hair, admiring his spent form under you.

“as much as i hate that you got stung,” you mumble, “this…this might not have been the worst thing.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, looking up and raising a brow—it’s only then that you feel it, the twitch of his still hard cock, still buried deep in your abused cunt, “are you sure? because we aren’t nearly finished yet—i really hope you’re prepared to take it.”

the textbook may have lied, you think—this is not mild at all. this might delay your trip quite a bit.

i would go with him hoping he gets stung every time so i could suck the soul out of him tbh

[cherry-leclerc]

the set up ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, humor, parent trip vibes from oscahhh, strangers to lovers (bc of course it is), uni!reader

word count: 2.12k

Caught up in work, you find time to join your friends at the McLaren welcome dinner; meeting a certain British driver along the way. Whom you don't make the best first impression with.

req!...oscar+lily playing matchmakers? cute cute cuteeee. quick one for my lando lovers mwahhh

It takes a lot to convince you; like—a lot. Partial credit is due to your pride, but honestly, it drove your friends mad. 

Let's go out and celebrate! Just a good ‘ol round of drinks. I have to study. Maybe next time.

Oh! I heard of this new place down the street where you custom make your own jewelry. Fun, no? I have enough already, thank you.

Five minutes—let’s just go grab coffee! Too tired. Go on without me.

“It’s my welcome dinner, mate. You can’t do this to me now.” Oscar’s brown eyes flicker between you and his girlfriend, to which she apologetically shrugs. Deep down, it's like she can forehear your excuse. An essay is due, your internship, helping out at your local library. There's been too many times where you’ve flaked, and they were starting to worry. The pile of clothes makes her wince as you greedily type away. 

“I-I’m sorry, but I have to—”

“Reckon you don’t have anything on your agenda that is as important as you make it out to seem,” he hums. Narrowed eyes burn down, flipping your screen towards him.

 Compile a series of current events…BLAH BLAH BLAH. He stops caring, already bored.

“I wish I could—seriously, Oscar—but I’m needed elsewhere.” A beat. “Lily will keep me updated! Go Mango!”

The Australian rolls his eyes, sharp eyebrows expanding with desperation. “Papaya, mate, papaya.” You giggle, mimically apologizing. The clicks continue; round eyes laser focused. He tries getting your attention once more, but you don’t look up at him at all. The driver’s girlfriend purses her pink lips, crossing her legs gingerly against the couch.

“I can help you write your paper. All of it. Just please, come with us.” Blue eyes wink back as you come to a halt, temptation swirling. “We’re your friends and we want you there. Pretty please?”

The McLaren rookie thinks it has to do with his girlfriend's cute pout, but that is so far from it. It was well known that Lily Zneimer had a wicked talent for conducting a killer research essay. From her resources, to her dialogue. It’s astonishing how smoothly it gets done too. With her, it’s a guaranteed pass. Now that was what you needed. 

Berry lips twist back and forth for a second before stretching out. “Touch up on globalization effects in different cultures and we have ourselves a deal.”

-

The paper was coming along so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry. Your eyes buzz with excitement as you jot down a row of bullet points, conversing with Lily before settling on what to write. 

“This is not what I had in mind when you both made this stupid pact,” Oscar groans for the millionth time as he passes by, spotting you and his girlfriend crouched down on a table; computer, notebook, pencils, index cards, books—everything—in hand.  

“Mate, this is worth half of my grade,” you shriek; jotting a few more possible ideas. Finally, your dazy orbs connect back onto him. “As in fifty percent.” You gag. “Do you realize how terrifying that is?”

Lily shoos him. “We’re almost done anyway, darling. Go enjoy the party.” The Australian’s jaw drops and she huffs, raising her neat brows. “Go, go, goooo.”

Despite his girlfriend and his best friend ignoring him, he has a splendid time. He curses beneath his breath when a large hand sprawls against his back. Lando laughs. “Don’t worry, my date ditched me too,” he teases, blue eyes sparkling against the fuzzy lights. The rookie sighs plainly.

“I wasn’t ditched—'' He angles his head to face back to where you and the dirty blond hunch over, whispering, attention drawn onto the bright screen. A few people even go as far as to try and take a peek, probably thinking you were working on anything McLaren. “Yeah, uh, I guess you could say I was ditched.”

His teammate rubs his watch a couple or times, nothing but music lingering between them. No one really speaks up until Lily delicately makes her way. Oscar tilts his head politely. “Done?”

“No quite yet, but she has it all under control.” She faces the British driver with a sheepish line formed between her pink lips. “Hello, you must be Oscar’s new teammate.” A beat. “I’m Lily.”

“Lando,” he can feel himself proclaiming. “I thought she was Lily…” A lousy fingers points over to you. They both let out a weak chuckle. That’s my friend from back home, Oscar confirms. Her and Lily are super close, too. She beams, light blush feathering her full cheeks.

All of a sudden—the Australian sparks up. “Come; let me introduce you two.”

The twenty-four doesn't really have anything better to do; business convos that have him apologizing profusely, cameras being shoved straight into his face, girls who never get the hint. “Sure.” 

First thing he notices is the faded scar that hugs the bridge of your nose. It's almost completely gone—and he really shouldn’t even be able to spot it—but it's there, almost a glassy color that shines back at him. He notices how quick you are at typing; navy blue, fingers flying at a constant speed. He’s impressed. Or the way you barely spare him a glance. 

“Don’t be rude, he’s talking to you,” Oscar hissed as he and Lily tower over you like a strict parent duo. You can distinguish the panic that laces through her when you didn’t first respond, too worried at making a bad impression, even if it wasn't her leaving it behind. 

“Of course, I…um, I’m sorry—shit!” The laptop blinks back at you as a warning before settling in its death. A groan slips by, hands pressing harshly against the keys, then the screen. Nervously, you look up at Lily, biting your bottom lip. “What do I do? What should I do? What should I do?”

“Charge it when we get back,” Oscar advises, still waiting for you to greet the older McLaren driver. Lando stands back amused. “As I was saying—”

“It’s due at midnight, dimwit!” It’s eleven-fifteen exactly. “I need to find a charger.”

“O-okay, lets just all calm down.” Lily turns to her boyfriend. “You always carry one with you, let her borrow it.” He winces. Only during races, sweetheart, not an important event. She rubs her temples, curly hair running against the wind. “Let’s just calm down!” she screeches.

“Not helping,” you wail. “That’s it—I’m leaving.”

Oscar is quick on his feet, already tugging you to stay firm. “We haven't even gotten to the speech!” A familiar fire rushes through your orbs, burning him along the way. I don’t give a shit about that right now! I need to turn this in. 

“I’m sure Charlotte has one,” a friendly voice slides in, leaving you three to turn and face it. Lando awkwardly shrugs. “She’s really well organized, you know her. I’ll be right back.”

“Can I go with you?”

Blue eyes shift over, surprised to hear you speak. Anxiously, you bounce up and down against your heels. He gulps. “Of course.” He turns back to the Australian, who is busy comforting his girlfriend as if it was her grade on the line. “I’ll be right back.”

There’s a sort of tension that hangs steadily—or maybe he’s the only one who thinks so—but he tries his best to push past it. Of course, he was right, and Charlotte did have an extra charger, so that’s quite nice. As if this were the one and only resource of water in a hot desert night, you immediately take it from him, plugging it fiercely.

“You don’t know how grateful I am. You’re an absolute angel.” You’re quick to pick up where you left off. If you try hard enough, you can remember exactly what you need in order to have it done in a few minutes. 

“Glad I could help.”

He should probably leave, he thinks. He’s done all he could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a seat across from you, contently closing his eyes as the sound of your keys brings him to a deep sleep. The sound of a computer shutting gently is what nudges him awake. You grimace. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more quiet.”

Lando scrunches his eyes, rubs them for a couple of minutes. “It’s alright. You done?”

“Yes. Just in time—you really saved my ass, thank you again.”

A large hand waves you off, reclining against his comfortable spot. “You’re pretty dedicated to your work,” he mutters.

“I sort of have to be if I want to graduate on time and on top of my game. All those sleepless nights couldn’t have been for nothing.”

“Well, I don’t really know you that well…but I hope you pass,” he says. “Lando, by the way—you were probably too busy to catch it the first time.” He cocks his head to the side, a cheesy grin playing out. “And the second, as well.”

You giggle, shaking his humid hand. You don’t even seem to mind. “Third times a charm, no?”

“It appears it is.”

-

The objective was quite clear; get you to leave your rotting bed. It was astounding how long you could go without getting up. You always blame it on the fact that—I’m finally done with my most important courses and I can sleep all I want—and—I never wake you up, now do I?

So, naturally, when they march into your room, flashing a phone—you curl a full brow. “What am I looking at?”

Oscar smiles. “Save his number. Right now.”

Lando Norris—winks back at you, digits causing a migraine to stir. You huff, reaching out for the blankets once again. “And why would I do that?”

Lily hums. “I tried to stop him, I really did.”

Beady eyes peek demandingly. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s really just one date—”

“What?”

“And if it doesn’t work out—”

You sit up straight and agitated. “What?”

“...then you won’t ever have to see him again?” The Australian flinches at your cold stare. “He thinks this was your idea…because I told him it was, but…” He winces harder. “Don’t make me look bad and please go!”

Lily squeals when you fling up, hunting him down your flat. “I am going to kill you!”

-

The Brit beams sweetly at you, pinching his hand a couple of times to pump his circulation that was suddenly lacking. “I’m a bit surprised you wanted to see—”

“This was all Oscar’s idea.” He blinks and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I think he does it because the third-wheel act is starting to get to him. Asshole,” you hiss at the thought of the rookie.

Lando coughs, playing with his bracelets. “You’re not dragging me into anything. I want to be here.” Now it’s your turn to stare back at him, caught off guard. He chuckles. “I take it you haven’t gone on a proper date in a while?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah,” he yawns. “Oscar told me.”

Pounding your fist against the table, you yelp. “That little—he wants to ruin my life, I see.” You force a tight smile. “I’ve been busy with work…and…I’m—” A flash goes off; you flinch. “A total catch. Like—total.”

Blue eyes flicker to the careful watchers surrounding the restaurant. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Good,” you respond, finally allowing yourself to rest easy. You raise a sharp brow. “Don’t you get tired of this?”

A few murmurs dance across the room, blinding lights continue. He sighs apologetically. “Right now I am. Let’s get out of here?”

You blush. “The bill…”

“My friend owns the restaurant. I’ll pay him later.” He grabs your hand. “Let's go.”

The moment you slip into his car, panic rises fast. “I don’t hook up on first dates,” you spit out. “It’s not in my nature, I-I-I would rather get to know the person—”

“Then let’s get to know one another. I wasn’t looking for anything like…that,” he whispers, timidly. His blue eyes burn against yours. “I only wanted the chance to get to know you now that you don’t have your nose pressed up against a screen.”

A kind smile. “Okay.”

The more you two converse inside his crowded vehicle, the more you find yourself giggling against the rich seat. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Norris.”

“Thank God,” he jokes. “It’s working.”

Another giggle erupts when you nod. You’re sure that you're flustered, burning bright red from all his pick up lines, but you don’t have the strength to look away. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk. For real this time,” you add, sheepishly. 

“So am I.” 

And something inside of him tells him this isn’t the last.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[lewisvinga]

the designer vs. the model | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; fans begged and begged fashion icon and designer y/n to help charles out, luckily for him, she gave him the girlfriend effect

fc; jennie kim

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested !

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, and others

yourusername: cannes film festival; the design, before & after 🎀

username: AN ICON

username: i knew she’d eat this gala up😩

yourbestfriend: my beautiful talented best friendddd😻

yourusername: hehe love u xx

username: her talent needs to be studied

username: pls style charles_leclerc he needs help

username: studying fashion to be just like y/n!

username: y/n we need your talent on the f1 grid specifically in the ferrari garage specifically charles_leclerc

username: heyyy girl, u gonna need to share your styling talents w a certain monegasque 😁

username: oh i just know she’d give charles the girlfriend effect

username: STYLE CHARLES_LECLERC

yourusername: whaaaa ö

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and others !

charles_leclerc: new profession: photographer

username: omg y/n liked!

username: we bullied him into only wearing sweatshirts and jeans omg 😭😭

username: thats what he gets for his horrendous style…

pierregasly: imagine you as a photographer 😂

charles_leclerc: hey! i’m not too bad!

username: yourusername pls help this poor man , he has very poor fashion taste🙏

username: ok this fit isn’t too bad, plain! but not that bad!

username: yourusername mother pls help father out

yourusername: i think the people want me to style you , haha !

charles_leclerc: my style can’t be that bad, no?

yourusername: it could use some improvement…

charles_leclerc: well, i’m open for suggestions!

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; don’t worry ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make sure he has a good wardrobe 😇!] [caption 2; designing n making some new pieces for his closet 😵‍💫]

charles_leclerc uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the forced smile after i showed her some outfit ideas…] [caption 2; her real smile after i got her a latte for being patient w my poor fashion skills😁

liked by yourusername, carlossainz5, and others !

charles_leclerc: photo dump , but do you notice any new fashion improvements ? 😁

yourusername: much better than those horrendous blue and white pants …

charles_leclerc: they weren’t that bad

yourusername: cha…… they were horrid

username: wait…. he fr looks good

yourusername: he’s got a pretty face but thats just enhanced by the better fashion sense!😁

charles_leclerc: u think i’m pretty?😊

yourusername: ur my prettiest model

username: OH HELLO

username: hes 100% dating y/n bc thats an improvement from that horrid blue outfit 😭

username: muy buenos días y que vivan los hombres 😍 [very good morning and long live men]

username: his style is improving, everyone cheered!

username: the sigh of relief i just let out

carlossainz55: mate, you have everyone relieved from your new fashion improvements 🤣

charles_leclerc: and i can see why after i looked at my old outfits…

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: the designer vs. the model 🌸

tagged; charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: where would my closet be w/o you, chérie…

yourusername: unfortunately, seen in the public

charles_leclerc: my favorite and the most prettiest designer ❤️

yourusername: you’re my favorite and the most prettiest model 💞

username: oh my goodness gracious me

username: STOPP THEYRE SO CUTE😖😖

username: she got him a good pair of glasses thank u queen y/n

username: them at the basketball game together 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username: we’re abt to get the best charles outfits thank u y/n😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

yourbestfriend: watch your back sharl she was mine first

charles_leclerc: womp womp she’s mine now

yourusername: ladies, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around ( btw yourbestfriend come over asap i need to do another fitting on u )