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ericscroptop · 1 month

Text

Like Honey

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

✧ pairing: bf! sunwoo x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, oral— female receiving, p!ssy drunk sunwoo, filthy sunwoo, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, praising, pet names, kissing, aftercare, sunwoo is in freaking love with you

✦ word count: 5k words

✧ synopsis: you and your boyfriend are getting ready for bed, and he can’t help but want a midnight snack.

✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰

Spending time with your friends was always filled with boisterous laughter and excitement, but you were always left drained afterwards.

Tonight, you and Sunwoo had dinner with Chanhee and Changmin. It was frequent that you four spent time together since those two were some of Sunwoo’s bestest friends.

You adored them beyond words, but even if you could never become tired of them, your body signaled to you that you needed rest after a long day and time well-spent.

As soon as Sunwoo unlocked the front door and you entered your shared apartment, you immediately removed your shoes and put them on their respective spot on the shoe rack.

Exhausted, you trudged towards the bathroom, dreading removing your makeup but having to do so before you could finally hit the hay.

Entering the bathroom connected to your bedroom, you gather your makeup removal products and skincare, proceeding with taking it all off and washing your face. You then brush your teeth and rinse your mouth, doing all of it in comfortable silence while your boyfriend is getting out of his outside clothes and changing into something more comfortable in the bedroom.

When you’re done, you leave the bathroom and step into the bedroom, wearily smiling at Sunwoo. Of which, he reciprocates as he walks past you to begin his own night time routine.

You rustle through your drawers to pick out some sleepwear, opting with a plain white crop top and some basic black boy shorts. Some looser material would be ideal, but it seemed like a majority of your loungewear was in the hamper.

It felt a bit muggy all day to wear too much clothing to bed tonight. Even though air conditioning exists, you know with your boyfriend curled up next to you that he’d add even more heat onto your body. The less material on you, the better.

After changing, you grab the clothes you’ve shimmied off from the floor and head towards the laundry hamper tucked away in the closet in the bathroom.

You put away the dirty clothing, making a mental note in seeing how almost-full it is that you’d plan to wash tomorrow.

You catch sight of Sunwoo finishing up his own skincare routine, a white spa headband resting over his head, keeping his bangs pushed back while he washed his face.

You then navigate your eyes to his bare back, trailing all the way down to his bottom. Sweatpants hung low around his hips, leaving the waistband of his black Celine boxer briefs in clear view, exposed.

It’s kinda humorous and cute, seeing the juxtaposition of the soft headband with a bow on it adorning your boyfriend’s head while he was wearing pants that you and him both know damn-well outlined his cock deliciously and made his ass look great.

His body is well-toned, with his small waist, arm muscles that flexed unconsciously while proceeding with his night routine— or when doing anything for that matter, and his provocative back. You just admire lowkey half-asleep to yourself, appreciating all the duality he has to offer belongs to lucky you, and you only.

“Almost ready for bed?” you question, followed by an involuntary yawn. Sleep was calling your name, but you didn’t want to bury yourself under the covers until Sunwoo was concomitantly doing it with you.

“Yeah, baby.” he twists slightly to look in your direction at the sound of your voice, an arm raising up to remove the headband from his hair, those fluffy bangs of his bouncing out and hiding his forehead.

You stood under the doorway, right hand resting against the side of the doorframe, and left hand tucked behind your back with ankles crossed.

Sunwoo takes in your presence, his adam’s apple bopping as he swallows hard from his view.

His pupils were spellbound by you when he sees what you’re wearing. It’s hard to not notice the prominent buds that are your nipples clearly visible as the shirt you’ve chosen is snug and lightweight. As well as the outline of your areola’s, noticeable thanks to the bathroom lighting and due to the whiteness of your top.

Your bare legs are also left on display. Those tight cotton boy shorts highlight the curves of your body, and probably make your behind look damn-near perfect and plump. How dare you wear such tight-ass clothing to bed tonight? Are you aware that you live with a man who has carnal instincts and gets a hard-on just from listening to you speak?

As if you weren’t already beautiful enough, the compressed clothing only drew more attention to you. It accentuated every curve and dip of your body. Regardless what you thought about your body, Sunwoo always appreciated every inch of your skin. From your tummy, to any beauty, birth, or stretch marks, to your fleshy ass— all of it. He claimed and loved every part of you, internally and externally.

You shut your eyes for a moment, still in the same stance, pouting your lips cutely at Sunwoo. You don’t even realize what’s going on in your boyfriend’s mind right now, too sleepy to think clearly about anything. All you care about is him crawling into bed with you and catching some z’s.

Looking at you, Sunwoo smirks while he thinks you’re such an innocent little thing. Too tired to realize the effect you have on him right now. He could just eat you up.

And he might actually do just that.

Your eyes open back up as you hear him begin to take a couple steps forward, and your lips curl upwards thinking it’s time to actually go to bed.

Though as you begin to turn around, Sunwoo grabs hold of your wrist, stopping you before you can even get in a step.

You’re suddenly facing him, brows furrowed in confusion at him stopping you. He pulled you in against his chest, hands traveling smoothly down your body until they meet your rear.

He holds and palms at your ass through your underwear, wetting his lips with his tongue as he feels the bottom of your cheeks openly, left peeking out from the fabric.

His touchiness washes off any ounce of drowsiness you had momentarily as you register what he is leading into.

“I know what you’re thinking, but not tonight. I’m sleepy. We can have sex tomorrow, baby.”

Sunwoo merely sighs deeply, hands still on you as he continues to feel you up despite your words.

“Sweetheart…” he begins. “You cannot wear something like this and expect me to not wanna have my way with you.” he repositions his hands over either side of your waist, dragging his thumbs gently over your bare skin soothingly. You’re pulled off his chest, meeting his face, his eyes bearing desperation.

You bring your hands to his shoulders, massaging his muscles lovingly while shaking your head, honestly not surprised that your man is in the mood to play right now. When is he not?

“Most of my other pjs are dirty right now. Plus, I’m feeling kinda’ hot right now.” you simply say.

His thumb starts lazily playing with the waistband of your panties, flicking it against your skin. “Yeah? I’m also feeling kinda’ hot.” his eyes are solely trained on your underwear while he speaks, as if he were stuck in a trance.

You take a second to look down at his crotch, encountering the tantalizing tease of his package that is seemingly demanding attention.

He notices that you sensed his boner, biting back a chuckle once you shoot a glare at him.

“I’m just a boy.” he huffs out, sighing dramatically.

“Yeah, a horny one.” you scoff, about to playfully slap his hands off you before his quick reflexes catch them, his fingers enclasping with your own, now holding both your hands.

“Let me eat you out, gorgeous.” the lust behind your boyfriend’s dark brown eyes is heavily apparent. Although you were looking forward to slumber, your body begins to betray you and switch up. Your core can’t help but tingle, blood flowing to your pussy and swelling in excitement from Sunwoo’s words and fervent hunger for you.

“Please?” he whispers in front of you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes of his bore into yours, his hands still holding yours. His intense gaze and touch is causing your body temperature to increase even more, not just from the air.

His neediness is making you want to fold. The fact that he really is desperate to have a taste of you and focus the pleasures on you is saying a lot right now. He must really want you bad.

“Fuck, I just can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.” your top teeth capture your bottom lip for a moment, Sunwoo having possessed you and falling for his charms.

You were easy, but so was he. It was too easy to succumb to each other and be aroused when you two were infatuated with one another.

Sleep can fucking wait.

Sunwoo’s lips form a smile, cheering internally that he’s convinced you. He couldn’t help himself. He craved to show you how much he desired and felt about you.

His smile is still there as he dives towards your face, connecting his lips with yours. Your mouth opens and welcomes his, your hands thrown around his neck tightly as he slips his tongue into your mouth hungrily.

You each kiss one another amorously. His tongue brushes past your lips and dances with your own, stimulating yours and making your sex hormones spiral in excitement.

Sunwoo’s left hand pinches the skin on your waist, lost in your lips while his right hand grabs your jaw in attempt to keep you steady and as close to him as possible.

A hazy feeling inhabits your body, unable to think straight, just yearning for your boyfriend to keep attacking you insatiably with his lips. You’re already visualizing in your head him between your thighs with his mouth vibrating over your pussy, and that causes a moan to let loose from your throat in between open-mouth kisses.

“Fuckkk,” his chest rumbles as he breathes out and you pull away to catch your breath, shifting in place, anxious for more attention.

His hand that was still on your waist redirects to the other side of your untouched jaw. Now cupping your face, passion carried in his eyes as he searches every inch of your face, enamored by you.

“Tell me you want me to eat you out. Wanna hear you say it.” his intense stare makes you fidget. You crave for things to get going already but he always makes you lose any coherence. His bold nature always has you melting and shy, going dumb at his mere presence and flirtatious demeanor.

“Hm?” at your lack of immediate speech, those Bratz doll-like lips of his pout slightly, brows raised as he looks at you with pleading eyes, emphasizing with his teasing expression how he’s expecting you to use your words.

You’re unable to look away shyly as his hands still clutch to your face, no way of backing out. Curse Sunwoo and his ability to make you feel so weak and vulnerable.

You secretly loved it, though.

“Wa— Want your mouth on my pussy… please.” you shakily breathed, heart racing as you see the satisfied smirk on his face that appears at your words.

“Since you asked so nicely, I think I have to give my baby what she wants,” he says, in awe at how you do exactly what he asks. You’re just so perfect.

He pulls your face towards his own, lips locking once again. Only this time, the kiss is softer and more delicate. He held your face as he kissed you sweetly and slowly, soaking in the feeling of the warmth of your breath and the faint taste of the lip balm you would always apply at the end of your night routine.

Humming at the taste of you, he pulls away and wastes no more time, grabbing your hand and makes way towards the bed.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, sitting up straight as Sunwoo towers in front of you.

He moves around the bed towards the headboard and reaches for a pillow, placing it right in the center of the sheets.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” he instructs.

You follow his dominance, allowing your back to fall slowly onto the mattress, the back of your head hitting the pillow he placed for you.

“Good girl. I’ll take care of you.” he murmurs, bringing a hand to your knee to stroke it affectionately. Every inch of your skin prickled with goosebumps from this angle, waiting for Sunwoo to touch you where you needed it the most.

He suddenly gets on the bed, your eyes widening slightly as his arms and legs are now on either side of you, holding himself up over your body. Those beautiful eyes of his settle on your breasts, cocking his head as he stares at them shamelessly, making your face redden at him ogling your chest.

“The girls are sitting pretty. So pretty that I think i’ll keep your shirt on.” he chuckles, diving his face down into one of your mounds and sucking a nipple through the tight material, causing you to whimper at his unexpected act.

He’s teasing you, taking his time sucking at both your erect nipples through your shirt, and fondles with your tits through the fabric, smirking and looking up at you as he does so.

Your thighs press together at how erotic this is, fingers clinging onto the sheets from how this is driving you delirious. His teasing is addictive but painful. You don’t know if you can be patient any longer.

“Sunwoo!” you whine, swallowing hard and your shaky breaths fill the room— music to his ears.

And he’s just getting started.

“God, you’re so sexy.” he practically growls, removing his mouth from your clothed tits and looking proudly at the wet patches of his own saliva he’s left stained behind.

He crawls off over you and off the bed, starting to kneel down and position himself on the ground, getting ready to feast in between your legs.

One of his calloused hands paw at your exposed stomach, feeling your tummy up and down, toying with your senses even more as his fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear every time he rubs down, coming in contact with your pubic region as he does so.

“Sunwoo, please…” you faintly beg. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. Your pussy might as well be whining aloud at this point alongside you.

He’s eyeing your expressions, finding amusement in the way your brows creased, how your lips remained parted, and at your increase in breathing.

He then grazes his lips over your inner thighs, beginning to trail kisses over the skin. You can’t help but squirm a bit as he gets closer to the most intimate part of your body, causing him to keep his hand on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Hey,” he warns, making you whimper. “I know, sweetheart. But be good for me, ‘kay?”

He finally decides to end your sexual frustration and any more delay, thinking he’s played with your mind enough already to get you going.

And now, he should get to playing with that pretty pussy of yours.

His fingers hook around the waistband of your boy shorts, tugging them all the way down your legs.

Once fully off, he finds the gusset of your underwear, boldly bringing it to his nose and inhales with it making direct contact against his nostrils, feeling the dampness you’ve left behind.

“Mhmmm.” he sighs in pleasure of the arousing smell lingering, cock twitching in excitement, making you gasp and nibble on your bottom lip at the lewd scene. Watching as he visibly enjoys your dirty underwear, sending your mind into a fucking frenzy at how filthy he was.

He’s not embarrassed in the slightest at showing how attracted he is to you, and it makes you want to combust with cum just at that.

He stuffs the underwear in the pocket of his sweats for now, and his dominant hand finally seeks for your demanding region. He cups your sex and feels how warm you are down here, as well as the lubricating fluid you have produced thus far from sexual excitement.

You suck in a breath at his large hand greeting you, quickening heartbeat at the feeling.

“Awe, so needy, hm? She’s aching isn’t she?” his voice is laced with fake sympathy as he taunts you, eyes going back and forth between your own and your cunt as he speaks.

He has you whimpering desperately, making him snicker at the fact that only he can make you feel this way.

He dives in between your legs to press a kiss over your folds, emphasizing the pucker sound of his lips greatly. He then drags the broad, flat of his tongue up along your entire pussy, almost-painfully slow and leaving behind his spit.

“Ah, shit!” you moan, clenching the sheets in between your fingers, trying your best to not close your legs or squirm too much at the sensitive feeling. This is what you wanted, after all.

Sunwoo ganders over your glistening cunt, savoring how it’s served right in front of him. Extremely blessed that you present it to him and that he gets to call you his. He thinks this every-single time, and it’ll always leave him wonderstruck.

He takes a good whiff of your pussy, his throat rumbling as he groans from the smell of your arousal. Lusty to his nostrils.

“Always so fucking pretty, just like you, gorgeous.” he refers to your cunt and then to you, making you mewl like crazy.

He finally attaches his mouth fully onto your sex, beginning to suck and lick at your folds, his groans vibrating all over your cunt.

“Mmph— fuck! Sunwoo!”

His tongue parts through your pussy lips and licks open your hole. He licks and slurps hungrily as if you were a pudding cup, trying to reach every crack and crevice of your sex with his mouth. His saliva mixes with your arousal, creating a hot, wet mess down there.

You can’t help but arch your back at the intense devotion he’s showering to your cunt. Feeling like you’re so helpless as you don’t know what to do with all the pleasure coursing through your veins while his mouth makes love to your pussy.

Your dominant hand reaches out into Sunwoo’s fluffy locks, beginning to desperately tug onto his hair and pull it slightly, letting him know how he’s driving your senses crazy.

He raises his head up slightly, backing away from your folds momentarily, making you lose the grip on his hair. He licks his lips as he meets your gaze, drool starting to drip from the corners of his mouth.

“Got me so pussy drunk, baby.” he laughs, then starts attending to your cunt again.

His eyes are still locked with your own as he sticks an index and middle finger in his mouth together, coating them with the wetness of his mouth and pulls out with a soft pop.

Although you’re wet enough that you can take it without him having to lubricate them with his mouth beforehand, he does it for show, his cock throbbing at how heavy lidded your eyes are as you watch him in a awestruck daze.

Even with you knowing what’s coming, you still jolt as he inserts his two digits, hissing at the feeling of them sliding up into your hole.

He smirks as he crooks them just right, fingers curled while he pumps into your warm sex.

Those thick fingers of his now fill you up and you can’t help but continue to breathe heavily as a whole slew of sexual hormones are running untamed throughout your body.

Sunwoo then decides to simultaneously take care of your swollen clit, attaching his mouth back onto your pussy over the engorged bud, adding more feelings of euphoria to your mind.

Every-single nerve ending of your clit tingles from those pillowy lips of his and his tongue lapping around. You can’t help but buck your hips into his fingers and face, moaning nonstop from the stimulation of his fingers while he eats you.

“Sun— Su— Sunwoo.” breathless whines roll out of you.

“You like that? Yeah?” he breathes out in between sucks, smirking as his actions are making you lose control, moving uncontrollably and crying out his name.

He continues to drive his fingers in you nonstop, steadily thrusting them into you and brushing along your spongey walls.

Squishy noises from the amount of wetness your pussy is coated in fills the room, only encouraging Sunwoo to continue the pace and maintain suction on your bundle of nerves.

His fingers are hitting you just right— in that special spot. He feels your cunt clamp around his fingers, giving them a nice squeeze. Oh, you’re so tight and close, he thinks to himself.

Your boyfriend is drawn to the way you ball up the bedsheets within your fists. How you buck up your hips so eagerly. The way the expressions on your face are beautifully screwed up— brows furrowed, mouth left hanging, eyes rolling back and fluttering.

He’s rock hard in seeing and hearing your reactions, blood rushing and flowing to his genitals as yours do. So turned on from the control he has over you, bringing you immense pleasure from his touches, and drowned in the pretty noises your body is making from your mouth and cunt.

The exhilarating duo of his mouth and thick fingers is becoming overpowering to your brain and body. If possible than already is, your breathing starts getting heavier and whinier in a stronger manner at the feeling of your stomach tightening and pussy feeling so full.

Every muscle in your body squeezes at the intense pressure crashing over you. Your body is in so much heat, beginning to feel that familiar coiled tension that you know all too well. Though this time, it feels slightly different. It’s somewhat stronger, and almost unbearable to keep holding it in. And uncontrollable.

The sensation has you crying out Sunwoo’s name and mumbling brokenly. You’re suddenly growing teary-eyed, shaking your head from left to right as the strong urge to release is raging to be let free.

Sunwoo evidently hears and sees you struggling and coming close to crashing down, so he begins to encourage you to relieve yourself.

“Let it go, baby! Ride it out on my face and fingers.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare hold back.”

“Show me how much you love it. I wanna see you cum on me. Show me, baby girl.”

Soft tremors from the inside of your thighs build into your legs beginning to shake nonstop as you listen to his words— even in your mind-numbing daze— and so you swamp his face, fingers, and entire veiny hand with your fluids.

High pitched practically-screams leave your mouth instantly as your clear fluid gushes out and splashes up into your boyfriend’s face, teardrops running down your heated cheeks from the feeling of relief.

You’re left speechless at the awareness of the amount of release coming out of you. It’s an amount that is foreign to you, almost like you’re squirting.

Your squirts synchronize with the way your pussy is pulsing as you orgasm, all slippery and runny fluid washing down.

Too focused on your release bewitching you, you don’t even process how you’re affecting Sunwoo.

He has never heard you this insanely vocal in the times you shared any type of sex. Nor has he been blessed with witnessing this much fluid spouting out from your cunt.

He believes you have just squirted.

And he’s the sole reason why.

“Oh fuck, baby!” your pleasure amplifies his pleasure, his cock pulsating under his underwear, making him buck his hips shamelessly into the air.

He grunts and groans as he does so, into your sex as he slurps some of your fluids and essence into his mouth. So tangy and sweet to his tastebuds.

You’re just so fucking sexy and always never cease to amaze him.

It’s so fulfilling. The rewarding feeling that he made you get to this point. Your squirt coinciding with your cum. All this just for him. Because of him.

His body responds to how he feels about you and this erotic scene by blowing a hot load of cum in his underwear. He can’t even be embarrassed about it. Fuck it. That was beautiful.

Your ears are ringing and you’re dizzy, feeling like you’re going in-and-out of consciousness.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo is trying to catch his breath as he comes down from his orgasm, still eye-level with your pussy.

He looks like a glazed donut with your pussy liquids glistening his face. He licks the corners of his mouth and rubs whatever remains with the back of his hand, and backs away from your cunt.

He crawls over the bed towards your side at your shivering state and lack of words, and immediately brings his hand to your hair, massaging and caressing your head.

“Hey, baby, talk to me.” his voice gravelly.

“Mhmm.” you moan weakly, eyes closed and barely fluttering open.

“You were so good, sweetheart. So fucking good.” he praises, pressing tender kisses against the flesh of your cheek, attempting to bring you back to your regular state of mind.

“Stay awake for me. Gonna clean us up, ‘kay?”

Sunwoo quickly gets off the bed, scurrying to find the baby wipes and towel to clean you up before you knock out.

He cleans you up first, making you hiss slightly at the feeling of any contact towards your sensitive pussy after coming down, but he coos at you and says sweet nothings during the short process.

He notices some of your fluids have left the sheets under your lower region all soaked and stained. It was no problem to him— he didn’t care, but he’d have to change them super fast and unfortunately move you off the bed to do so.

You’re suddenly picked up momentarily by your boyfriend, and he starts to carry you out the room, towards the living room, and places you gently over the couch.

You feel less hazy now and eyes are more open, curious as to what Sunwoo was doing.

“Gonna change the sheets real fast and i’ll be back to grab you and then get you some fresh underwear.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and you hummed, watching as he walked back into the room.

It didn’t take long for him to get on some fresh sheets, keeping his promise and coming back to carry you back to bed. He places you on the mattress and gets you into a fresh pair of panties, not being able to help himself in pressing sweet kisses onto your thighs as he swells in love from taking care of you.

He then adjusts you to be tucked under the covers and walks away, making you whine at him not immediately joining you.

“Sunwoo… come to bed, baby.” you pout tiredly.

He can’t help but melt at your cuteness and begging. Wanting nothing more than to be snuggled up by your side right now.

“I gotta clean myself up first. Give me a minute, sweetheart.”

You’re not sure what he means, not knowing that he came in his underwear. You were too far gone to notice he had an untouched release.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs and headed to the bathroom. He quickly removed his sweats and ruined underwear, dealt with the mess, and pulled on the clean underwear.

He took care of himself and walked back into the bedroom, finally joining you and going to do what you wanted to do in the first place.

Once his body hits the bed and settles, he pulls you towards his bare chest and you cling onto him.

You sigh contently as you close your eyes, happily cuddling into him.

With his bare legs entangled with your own, you are made aware that he’s removed his sweats and had to change.

Curious, you decide to ask him why.

He bites his lip before answering, feeling just an ounce of shyness, but honestly who cares? You make him weak all the time. He’s in fucking love with you.

“You made me cum.” he chuckles.

“Really?” you’re shocked and amused.

“Yeah. You squirted, baby. That was so fucking hot. You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“Wait what!?” N-no, I don’t think so. It was so intense. Never felt anything like that before.” you babbled, face reddening.

You’ve never poured out a release like that. Like, squirting? That’s what that was. You’ve obviously heard about it but didn’t think you were capable in doing so.

“Hey— I loved it. Don’t think too much about it. That was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen.” he tells you, making your face heat up even more.

“My little squirter.” he grins from ear to ear, earning him a kick from you to his own leg from underneath the covers at his teasing.

“Hey!” he responds to your kick, hissing but laughing slightly from your action. “That’s a compliment.”

“Let’s just talk more tomorrow, baby.” you roll your eyes playfully, and then shut them. You guys can talk more about this tomorrow. He’s already ripped you away from sleep by wanting to eat you— though, you cannot complain. That was singlehandedly the best oral sex you’ve ever had. But now, you just want to actually go to sleep with your pretty boy.

Sunwoo listens, smiling like an idiot at your figure. He ends the teasing (for now) and lays a kiss over your hair, rubbing your back as you rested against his chest, starting to drift off to sleep.

“I love you so much.” he whispers into the air, thinking you’re asleep already, but he says it anyways.

A quiet giggle surprises him though, making his heartbeat flutter at your beautiful sound.

“I love you, too.”

✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰

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themercyverse · 1 year

Text

Villain's Princess || MHA

Pairing: Dabi x Villain!Reader

Synopsis: Dabi is really set on calling you princess. It seems he does this to annoy you, but does he really?

Words: 1.1k

As you walked through the League of Villains' hideout, the smell of cigarette smoke and burning embers filled your nostrils. The dimly lit corridors were lined with old, rusty pipes and grime-covered walls that seemed to ooze danger. The sound of footsteps echoed off the walls, and you knew that you were not alone in this labyrinthine hideout.

Approaching the common area, you heard a familiar voice call out to you. "Hey, princess!" Dabi shouted from behind, his voice slicing through the tension like a hot knife through butter. You turned to face him and saw his wicked grin spread across his face, sending shivers down your spine.

Dabi's bright blue flames flickered from his fingertips as he leaned against the wall, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What are you up to?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed at his use of the nickname "princess" that he had taken to calling you lately. It was driving you crazy, and you knew he was doing it just to get under your skin. But you couldn't deny that it gave you butterflies in your stomach whenever he said it.

"I'm just trying to get some work done, Dabi," you replied, trying to sound casual.

Dabi chuckled, and the sound echoed through the empty corridors. "Relax, princess. I'm just messing with you. You know I love seeing that look on your face."

You couldn't help but smile a little at his teasing. Despite his abrasive personality, there was something about Dabi that drew you to him. Maybe it was his confidence, or the way he always seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

As you continued with your work, Dabi hung around, making idle conversation, and occasionally calling you "princess" just to watch you squirm. But as the day wore on, you began to notice something different about the way he said it. There was a possessiveness in his voice that you hadn't heard before, a hint of something deeper than just playful teasing.

You tried not to read too much into it, knowing that Dabi was the last person who would ever admit feeling anything else than hatred and annoyance. But the more he called you "princess," the more you found yourself enjoying his tone and facial expressions concomitantly to his words. It became a secret code between the two of you, a way to show your mutual affection without having to say it outright, even though neither of you actually admitted to it.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Dabi continued to call you "princess," and you continued to let him, secretly loving the way it made you feel. But it wasn't until a particularly intense battle with the heroes that you realized just how much Dabi truly cared about you.

As you fought together, you couldn't help but notice the way that Dabi's muscles rippled beneath his shirt, his movements fluid and graceful as he took down his opponents with ease. Despite the chaos around you, there was a sense of calm that settled over you when you were near him.

And then, in the heat of battle, Dabi turned to you with a look of fierce determination. "Get behind me, princess! I'll protect you!" His voice was like thunder, ringing in your ears, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his words.

In that moment, you realized just how much you had come to rely on Dabi, not just as a comrade in arms, but as something more. There was a bond between you that went beyond mere friendship or even attraction. It was something deeper, something that you couldn't quite put into words.

As you moved to stand behind him, you felt a surge of emotion rise up within you. Here was a man who was willing to lay down his life for yours, who saw you as something precious and worth protecting. It was a feeling that you had never experienced before, and it both thrilled and terrified you.

For the rest of the battle, you watched in awe as Dabi fought with a ferocity that bordered on madness. His eyes blazed with a passion that was both terrifying and exhilarating, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at being the one he was fighting for.

And when the battle was finally over, you found yourself drawn to Dabi like a moth to a flame. As you stood there, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, he turned to you with a small, almost shy smile.

You were taken aback by the sudden display of protectiveness, but you couldn't deny the thrill it gave you to hear him call you "princess" in such a serious tone. You knew that he would do anything to keep you safe, and that thought filled you with a warmth that you couldn't quite describe.

As you caught your breath after the intense battle, you noticed Dabi looking at you intently, his eyes softening as he approached you. His usual smirk was replaced with a more serious expression, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at the sight of him.

Dabi gently took your arm and with his body, he covered the chaos of the battle from your sight. He turned to face you, his eyes piercing into yours, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through your body at his touch.

He spoke softly, his voice laced with more tenderness than usual. That really surprised you.

"I won’t let anything that’s mine get hurt, alright princess? So rest assured." He carefully lifted your chin and came closer to you, making you feel his hot breath against your skin. His words were simple, yet they held a depth of emotion that you had never heard from him before.

You looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and gratitude on your face. It was as if he was claiming you as his own, and it made you feel both exhilarated and nervous. You had always known that Dabi was fiercely independent and unpredictable but hearing him express his protectiveness over you was a revelation.

Despite his gruff exterior, you could tell that Dabi cared deeply for you, and his words were a confirmation of those feelings. As you gazed into his eyes, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, and you knew that you had found someone special.

From that day forward, you wore the title of "princess" with pride, knowing that it was a way for Dabi to show the world that you were his. The term had transformed from a teasing nickname to a symbol of his affection and protectiveness over you, and you cherished it more than any other title or honorific.

Thanks for reading <3

-mercy

#dabi fic #dabi x me #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #touya x you #touya fic #touya x reader #touya x y/n #my hero academia #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero #boku no hero x reader #bnha dabi

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doctorofmagic · 7 months

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A friend of mine sent an ask but requested to stay anon! So here's the question:

I'm not the craziest about this ship so maybe my perception is not as deep as the fans. But I can definitely vouch for their relationship. Stephen assisted Tony several times in the past, despite their conflict between magic and science.

There was a time they were on opposite sides (check Civil War), which can definitely be perceived as angsty juice. After that, they never really had their time to talk about it, but they became closer and closer thanks to the Illuminati (and I mean, not in a healthy way since this group is not supposed to portray goodness. It's complicated).

Still, despite all the troubles that ensued, they've become even closer, and Tony always goes to Stephen whenever magic is involved because he truly trusts him. In an alternate future, Tony even becomes Sorcerer Supreme.

616 is not the best source of food for this ship imo, tho. I think Midnight Suns and Marvel Action: Chillers (IDWverse) are more interesting in this regard, they feel more... how can I put this... married. if not, then certainly domestic.

And yes, I do have a list of recs for some ships (because I'm insane). It needs some updating tho, so my apologies if it's not complete. I'll do my best!

1 - Avengers v1 #116-118 + Defenders v1 #8-10 (read concomitantly) 2 - Marvel Team-Up v1 #50-51 3 - West Coast Avengers #78-79 4 - What If? v2 #113 5 - New Avengers: Illuminati #1 (one-shot) 6 - New Avengers: Illuminati #1-5 7 - Civil War #1 8 - New Avengers v1 #28-30 9 - Invincible Iron Man v2 #22-24 10 - Marvel Holiday Special #1 11 - Avengers v4 #8-12 12 - Doctor Doom and the Masters of Evil #1 13 - Iron Man Legacy #6; #10-11 14 - New Avengers v3 #1-7; #9-10 (+Infinity #1-6); #18-22 15 - Invincible Iron Man v3 #3; #5 16 - Avengers v8 #1-6 17 - Doctor strange v5 #1 18 - Gwenpool Strikes Back #3 19 - Avengers: Loki Unleashed! #1 20 - Magnificent Ms. Marvel #9 21 - Tarot #1-4 22 - Mech Strike - Monster Hunters #1-5 23 - Fallen Friend - The Death of Ms. Marvel #1

Extra: Marvel Action: Chillers #1-4

Aaaand that's it! (we don' talk about the MCU...)

Thanks for passing by, I'm sending you much love! Take care!

#how can the sorcerer supreme be of assistance?#ask #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark #iron man #ironstrange #marvel comics #rec list

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year

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"The Progressives’ design for the penitentiary did alter the system of incarceration. Their ideas on normalization, classification, education, labor, and discipline had an important effect upon prison administration. But in this field, perhaps above all others, innovation must not be confused with reform. Once again, rhetoric and reality diverged substantially. Progressive programs were adopted more readily in some states than in others, more often in industrialized and urban areas, less often in southern, border, and mountain regions. Nowhere, however, were they adopted consistently. One finds a part of the program in one prison, another part in a second or in a third. Change was piecemeal, not consistent, and procedures were almost nowhere implemented to the degree that reformers wished. One should think not of a Progressive prison, but of prisons with more or less Progressive features.

The change that would have first struck a visitor to a twentieth-century institution who was familiar with traditional practices, was the new style of prisoners’ dress. The day of the stripes passed, outlandish designs gave way to more ordinary dress. It was a small shift, but officials enthusiastically linked it to a new orientation for incarceration. In 1896 the warden of Illinois’s Joliet prison commented that inmates “should be treated in a manner that would tend to cultivate in them, spirit of self-respect, manhood and self-denial. . . , We are certainly making rapid headway, as is shown by the recently adopted Parole Law and the abolishment of prison stripes.” In 1906, the directors of the New Hampshire prison, eager to follow the dictates of the “science of criminology” and “the laws of modern prisons,” complained that “the old unsightly black and red convict suit is still used. . . . This prison garb is degrading to the prisoner and in modern prisons is no longer worn.” The uniform should be grey: “Modern prisons have almost without exception adopted this color.” The next year they proudly announced that the legislature had approved an appropriation of $700 to cover the costs of the turnover. By the mid-1930’s the Attorney General’s survey of prison conditions reported that only four states (all southern) still used striped uniforms. The rest had abandoned “the ridiculous costumes of earlier days.”

To the same ends, most penitentiaries abolished the lock step and the rules of silence. Sing-Sing, which had invented that curious shuffle, substituted a simple march. Pennsylvania’s Eastern State Penitentiary, world famous for creating and enforcing the silent system, now allowed prisoners to talk in dining rooms, in shops, and in the yard. Odd variations on these practices also ended. “It had been the custom for years,” noted the New Hampshire prison directors, “not to allow prisoners to look in any direction except downward,” so that “when a man is released from prison he will carry with him as a result of this rule a furtive and hang-dog expression.” In keeping with the new ethos, they abolished the regulation.

Concomitantly, prisons allowed inmates “freedom of the yard,” to mingle, converse, and exercise for an hour or two daily. Some institutions built baseball fields and basketbaIl courts and organized prison teams. “An important phase in the care of the prisoner,” declared the warden of California’s Folsom prison, “is the provisions made for proper recreation. Without something to look forward to, the men would become disheartened. . . . Baseball is the chief means of recreation and it is extremely popular.” The new premium on exercise and recreation was the penitentiary’s counterpart to the Progressive playground movement and settlement house athletic clubs.

This same orientation led prisons to introduce movies. Sing Sing showed films two nights a week, others settled for once a week, and the warden or the chaplain usually made the choice. Folsom’s warden, for example, like to keep them light: “Good wholesome comedy with its laugh provoking qualities seems to be the most beneficial.” Radio soon appeared as well. The prisons generally established a central system, providing inmates with earphones in their cells to listen to the programs that the administration selected. The Virginia State Penitentiary allowed inmates to use their own sets, with the result that, as a visitor remarked “the institution looks like a large cob-web with hundreds of antennas, leads and groundwires strung about the roofs and around the cell block.”

Given a commitment to sociability, prisons liberalized rules of correspondence and visits. Sing-Sing placed no restrictions on the number of letters, San Quentin allowed one a day, the New Jersey penitentiary at Trenton permitted six a month. Visitors could now come to most prisons twice a month and some institutions, like Sing-Sing, allowed visits five times a month. Newspapers and magazines also enjoyed freer circulation. As New Hampshire’s warden observed in 1916: “The new privileges include newspapers, that the men may keep up with the events of the day, more frequent writing of letters and receiving of letters from friends, more frequent visits from relatives . . . all of which tend to contentment and the reestablishment of self-respect.’? All of this would make the prisoners’ “life as nearly normal as circumstances will permit, so that when they are finally given their liberty they will not have so great a gap to bridge between the life they have led here . . . and the life that we hope they are to lead.”

These innovations may well have eased the burden of incarceration. Under conditions of total deprivation of liberty, amenities are not to be taken lightly. But whether they could normalize the prison environment and breed self-respect among inmates is quite another matter. For all these changes, the prison community remained abnormal. Inmates simply did not look like civilians; no one would mistake a group of convicts for a gathering of ordinary citizens. The baggy grey pants and the formless grey jacket, each item marked prominently with a stenciled identification number, became the typical prison garb. And the fact that many prisons allowed the purchase of bits of clothing, such as a sweater or more commonly a cap, hardly gave inmates a better appearance. The new dress substituted one kind of uniform for another. Stripes gave way to numbers.

So too, prisoners undoubtedly welcomed the right to march or walk as opposed to shuffle, and the right to talk to each other without fear of penalty. But freedom of the yard was limited to an hour or two a day and it was usually spent in “aimless milling about.” Recreational facilities were generally primitive, and organized athletic programs included only a handful of men. More disturbing, prisoners still spent the bulk of non-working time in their cells. Even liberal prisons locked their men in by 5:30 in the afternoon and kept them shut up until the next morning. Administrators continued to censor mail, reading materials, movies, and radio programs; their favorite prohibitions involved all matter dealing with sex or communism. Inmates preferred eating together to eating alone in a cell. But wardens, concerned about the possibility of riots with so many inmates congregated together, often added a catwalk above the mess hall and put armed guards on patrol.

Prisoners may well have welcomed liberalized visiting regulations, but the encounters took place under trying conditions. Some prisons permitted an initial embrace, more prohibited all physical contact. The rooms were dingy and gloomy. Most institutions had the prisoner and his visitor talk across a table, generally separated by a glass or wire mesh. The more security-minded went to greater pains. At Trenton, for example, bullet-proof glass divided inmate from visitor; they talked through a perforated metal opening in the glass. Almost everywhere guards sat at the ends of the tables and conversations had to be carried on in a normal voice; anyone caught whispering would be returned to his cell. The whole experience was undoubtedly more frustrating than satisfying.

The one reform that might have fundamentally altered the internal organization of the prison, Osborne’s Mutual Welfare League, was not implemented to any degree at all. The League persisted for a few years at Sing-Sing, but a riot in 1929 gave guards and other critics the occasion to eliminate it. One couId argue that inmate self-rule under Osborne was little more than a skillful exercise in manipulation, allowing Osborne to cloak his own authority in a more benevolent guise. It is unnecessary, however, to dwell on so fine a point. Wardens were simply not prepared to give over any degree of power to inmates. After all, how could men who had already abused their freedom on the outside be trusted to exercise it on the inside? Administrators also feared, not unreasonably, that inmate rule would empower inmate gangs to abuse fellow prisoners. In brief, the concept of a Mutual Welfare League made little impact on prison systems throughout this period.

If prisons could not approximate a normal community, they fared no better in attempting to approximate a therapeutic community. Again, reform programs frequently did alter inherited practices but they inevitably fell far short of fulfilling expectations. Prisons did not warrant the label of hospital or school.

Starting in the 1910’s and even more commonly through the 1920's, state penitentiaries established a period of isolation and classification for entering inmates. New prisoners were confined to a separate building or cell block (or occasionally, to one institution in a complex of state institutions); they remained there for a two- to four-week period, took tests and underwent interviews, and then were placed in the general prison population. In the Attorney General’s Survey of Release Procedures: Prisons forty-five institutions in a sample of sixty followed such practices. Eastern State Penitentiary, for example, isolated newcomers for thirty days under the supervision of a classification committee made up of two deputy wardens, the parole officer, a physician, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, the educational director, the social service director, and two chaplains. The federal government’s new prison at Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, opened in 1932 and, eager to employ the most modern principles, also followed this routine. All new prisoners were on “quarantine status,” and over the course of a month each received a medical examination, psychometric tests to measure his intelligence, and an interview with the Supervisor of Education. The Supervisor then decided on a program, subject to the approval of its Classification Board. All of this was to insure “that an integrated program . . . may lead to the most effective adjustment, both within the Institution and after discharge.”

It was within the framework of these procedures that psychiatrists and psychologists took up posts inside the prisons for the first time. The change can be dated precisely. By 1926, sixty-seven institutions employed psychiatrists: thirty-five of them made their appointments between 1920 and 1926. Of forty-five institutions having psychologists, twenty-seven hired them between 1920 and 1926. The innovation was quite popular among prison officials. “The only rational method of caring for prisoners,” one Connecticut administrator declared, “is by classifying and treating them according to scientific knowledge . . . [that] can only be obtained by the employment of the psychologist, the psychiatrist, and the physician.” In fact, one New York official believed it “very unfair to the inmate as well as to the institution to try and manage an institution of this type without the aid of a psychiatrist.”

Over this same period several states also implemented greater institutional specialization. Most noteworthy was their frequent isolation of the criminal insane from the general population. In 1904, only five states maintained prisons for the criminally insane; by 1930, twenty-four did. At the same time, reformatories for young first offenders, those between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five or sixteen and thirty, became increasingly popular. In 1904, eleven states operated such facilities; in 1930, eighteen did. Several states which constructed new prisons between 1900 and 1935 attempted to give each facility a specific assignment. No state pursued this policy more diligently than New York. It added Great Meadow (Comstock), and Attica to its chain of institutions, the first two to service minor offenders, the latter, for the toughest cases. New York‘s only rival was Pennsylvania. By the early 1930’s it ran a prison farm on a minimum security basis; it had a new Eastern State Penitentiary at Grateford and the older Western State Penitentiary at Pittsburgh for medium security; and it made the parent of all prisons, the Eastern State Penitentiary at Philadelphia, the maximum security institution. Some states with two penitentiaries which traditionally had served different geographic regions, now tried to distinguish them by class of criminals. In California, for instance, San Quentin was to hold the more hopeful cases, Folsom the hard core.

But invariably, these would-be therapeutic innovations had little effect on prison routines. They never managed to penetrate the system in any depth. Only a distinct minority of institutions attempted to implement such programs and even their efforts produced thin results. Change never moved beyond the superficial."

- David J. Rothman, Conscience and Convenience: The Asylum and Its Alternatives in Progressive America. Revised Edition. New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 2002 (1980), p. 128-134

#penal reform #progressive penology #progressive politics #rehabilitation #penal modernism #american prison system #penology #prison sports #prison community #prison discipline #convict uniforms #prison routine #classification and segregation #history of crime and punishment #mutual welfare league #utopia of classification #academic quote #reading 2023 #david rothman

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prokopetz · 1 year

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What really burns my ass about the Celeste modding community being obsessed with execution of janky glitch tech as the sole legitimate measure of difficulty and concomitantly having zero respect for puzzles is that the Super Mario romhacking community is turning out these amazing puzzle levels that are being played competitively at GDQ events and such, in spite of the fact that Super Mario isn't even a puzzle-centric game, while Celeste, which very much is a puzzle-centric game, is basically entirely absent from that scene.

#gaming #video games #celeste #super mario #game design #speedrunning #modding #romhacking #grumping #swearing

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musingsonthemahabharata · 7 months

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Forgiveness and Justice in the Mahābhārata

The main antagonists of the Mahābhārata, namely, Duryodhana, his uncle, Śakuni, and Karṇa (yes, if antagonists are to be named, Karṇa is one per the Critical Edition and per Kṛṣṇa’s comments) commit a series of horrific actions throughout the epic, motivated by greed, jealousy, and spite. Offences include assassination attempts, deceit, sexual harassment and assault. Still, what I love is that Kṛṣṇa and the Pāṇḍavas continue to offer them opportunities for redemption, which they refuse. The war comes to be, justice is delivered, and all the Kauravas perish. However, by finding their end, they find redemption in relative terms, and, as we learn in the last parva, all proceed to svarga, or to heaven.

First, I find it significant to underline that the characters are not passively forgiven and welcomed into svarga. As they refuse to redeem themselves, they are forgiven only AFTER justice is delivered and they are made to take responsibility for what they have done, and after direct action is taken against their misdeeds. Forgiveness or compassion are therefore not passive in this context. I would maintain that what is underlined here is that forgiveness and love do not imply blindness to another’s harmful behaviour; on the contrary.

Second, I highlighted that their redemption occurs in relative terms, because, at the level of the Absolute / Consciousness, there is nothing to be redeemed as there is no fracture, only flow; however, as Ādyashanti teaches, the relative concomitantly and paradoxically very much exists in the container of its own laws.

Of course, the cosmology of the war is much more complex than this and is neither an act of punishment nor one of revenge; I would say it is more of a re-establishment of equilibrium in the relative playing field.

I think this is beautiful to ponder on. No matter how far they fell into cruelty and dejection, they found redemption. Indeed, Draupadī herself as Śrī forgives Aśvatthāmā after justice is delivered, who commits the most gruesome crime there is per Kṛṣṇa (that of killing a child).

And, so can we, can't we? Redeem ourselves and make amends for our cruelties and for our mistakes. Take action when action is needed. And rest in “redemptive love” (another beautiful coinage by Ādya. I love him so much 😊 )

IG: @musingsonthemahabharata

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fatehbaz · 7 months

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Fencing became a primary mode of seizure of public land and resources for the benefit of individual ranching enterprises in the West. [...] Estimates are that 100,000 bovine animals roamed Texas by 1830. Three decades later, on the eve of the Civil War, that number had increased to an estimated 3.5–5 million. [...] In the boom years of the 1870s and 1880s, the cattle barons enjoyed “near hegemony” over western public lands by declaring a simple right of sovereignty. [...] Thus, part and parcel of the American colonial project was this type of land acquisition – the process of turning the public domain into private property [...]. [E]ntrepreneurs in the new cow towns such as Abilene, Kansas, sought out Texas livestock trails [...]. The most-well-known of the western cattle trails ran from Texas northward to the state of Kansas [...]. From 1867 until 1871, the 1,000-mile-long Chisholm Trail was the main livestock trail from Texas, a trail that ran from San Antonio [...] through Oklahoma and ended at Abilene. [...] They collectively drove 600,000–700,000 [cows] north from Texas during 1871 alone, all eventually bound for abattoirs in St. Louis and Chicago. [...] [Cattle barons] [...] rounded them up, claimed them, branded them, and enclosed them. [...]

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Infrastructural and technological developments at towns such as Abilene [...] at the termini of the cattle trails also represent a singularly important carceral phenomenon of the nineteenth-century United States Innovations in transportation, specifically, the “cattle car” (and by 1869, the refrigerated car that hauled dead animal carcasses) [...].

It was primarily British companies that played a major role in developing the transcontinental railroad in the 1870s and 1880s – the foreign “cattle barons” – and who eventually also shipped refrigerated cow carcasses to Britain in ocean steamers. [...] The first twenty-car shipment of cows from Abilene to Chicago was in September of 1867. [...] This north-south cattle complex expanded in the 1870s, as the demand for beef, tallow, and hides greatly expanded amid postwar [conditions].

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Concomitantly, one of the most significant instruments [...] was the revolutionary invention of wire fencing, which facilitated the enclosure of public pasture land for private use. [...] Netz argues for the critical importance [...] [of] the case of barbed wire [in] the violent enclosure and control of bovine animals during colonization of the American West. Joseph Glidden patented barbed wire in 1874 and opened a small manufacturing plant in DeKalb, Illinois, for its production, with large-scale production and sale eventually located to [...] Massachusetts. More than 350 barbed wire patents were issued between 1875 and 1890, although it was the Glidden patent that came to monopolize the market (and indeed, is the fence still in use today). [...]

One rather infamous early adopter in the Texas Panhandle [...] fenced in over 3 million acres of public range with illegal fences while others followed suit [...]. Also in the Texas Panhandle, [a] Scottish-backed [...] ranch pursued its own 3 million acre fencing project, operating on a grant from the state with an estimated 6,000 miles of fence. [...] Such [...] activities led to what has been called the “Fence Cutting Wars” in the early 1880s [...]. Estimates are that up to 7.3 million acres of public land was fraudulently expropriated by cattle companies in this way in the 1870s and 1880s.

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All text above by: Karen M. Morin. "Bovine Lives and the Making of a Nineteenth Century American Carceral Archipelago". A chapter in Carceral Logics: Human Incarceration and Animal Captivity edited by Lori Gruen and Justin Marceau. Online publication date April 2022. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

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eesirachs · 5 months

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i feel like i'm not the kind of person to have faith, but i want to. i grew up in the church but things pushed me to stop believing a long time ago. i think i want to, but i think i'm looking in the wrong places and i don't know where to start.

places of theophanies (god-appearances) in the hebrew bible: an inner thigh, a hateful laugh, a burial gone wrong, several holes and pits and wells, water-skins, erotica, and, for that matter, the sweat of sex; a body twisted over itself, a fish liver, a golden idol melted down and put into drinking water, (concomitantly) metal poisoning, a loaf of bread, dis-ease itself, bath water, a prophet's mantle, a bed that looks like a tomb (most ancient near eastern languages use the same word for bed and tomb, anyway), more holes and wells,

#start looking here maybe #ask

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familyabolisher · 1 year

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Historical writing nevertheless continued, taking new forms and developing old ones. Probably the form of written narrative most commonly associated with the period 500–700 is so-called ‘national history’: Jordanes’ Getica (mid-sixth century), Gregory of Tours’ so-called History of the Franks, Isidore of Seville’s History of the Goths, Sueves and Vandals, of the early seventh century, Bede’s early eighth-century Ecclesiastical History of the English People, and Paul the Deacon’s History of the Lombards (late eighth century), to which one should add the anonymous early eighth-century Liber Historiae Francorum, the early ninth-century History of the Britons attributed to Nennius and the late ninth-century Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and other works. Most of these works were written after the close of the time-span covered by this volume but, as they claim to relate the history of our period, they deserve treatment here. These sources were at first considered to be repositories of the age-old traditions of the different peoples of early medieval Europe. Since, in the nineteenth and earlier twentieth century these peoples were regarded as distinct racial units, in line with the ideas of the nation-state developed at that time, such works were seen to represent the foundations of the histories of modern European nations, their authors portrayed as the founders of national historical traditions. The information they contained was held to be reliable, transmitted down the generations, it was assumed, by oral tradition. As attitudes towards the nature of the barbarian ‘peoples’ themselves changed, so the ways in which these sources were viewed changed too. Most have been the subject of intense debate. The nature of Jordanes’ history has come under close scrutiny, and Gregory of Tours’ writing has become the focus of an even larger field of profitable debate, hardly any of which now sees his writings as forming any sort of ‘History of the Franks’ (as discussed above). Meanwhile, controversy has been provoked by the interesting suggestion that Paul the Deacon’s History of the Lombards might have been composed for a Frankish audience. The other sources have also attracted debate and revaluation. Not only are many of these works no longer seen as ‘national histories’, it is also recognised that they may represent instances of other genres entirely: the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, obviously enough, takes the form of a set of annals (Isidore’s History is also written to an annalistic structure); Bede’s is an ecclesiastical history; and so on. Gregory’s, as mentioned, was not written as a national history at all, though quite which – if any – genre Gregory was composing in is a matter of debate. At the same time, the purposes to which these sources were put, using the past to serve political needs of later centuries, were also served by works of many other kinds, never viewed as particularly ‘nationalistic’. The lesson of the scholarship of recent decades has essentially been that to understand these sources they have to be replaced in the contexts of their composition. The political motives behind their composition make them far more contingent, and concomitantly far less valuable as treasuries of ancient fact, than hitherto believed. At the same time, however, they become very valuable sources for the examination of the political culture and ideology of the times and places where they were written: mid-sixth-century Constantinople; early seventh-century Spain; late ninth-century Wessex, for example. These lessons apply to most other sources written in our period.

Guy Halsall, ‘The sources and their interpretation’ from The New Cambridge Medieval History, vol. 1: 500-700

#currently reading #by and large this is 101 Critical Source Analysis but: always helpful 2 remember how much 19/20th century scholarship constructed discrete #racial categories out of these works & the legacy of such a construction continues into the present day

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g-xix · 1 month

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Chaos Crew x Harry Potter [Alternate Universe]

ArthurTV!HP au where every day after classes you'll either find him down helping the care of magical creatures professor + listening and sharing what they've heard n know about Hippogriffs, or something alike, or find him cuddled in the library with a Newt Scamander Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them book, trying not to doze off whilst simultaneously being completely absorbed by the book he's read possibly a million times over, already.

ChrisMD!HP au where Chris got recruited as chaser for the Quidditch team and hates being woken up to practice every Saturday 5am - but will concomitantly race his friends down to the pitches after lessons, just to bun ArthurTV as keeper (he has 0 experience and is statistically the worst one to put as keeper) whilst he manoeuvres between the rest of his friends on the pitch and effortlessly managed to kick, punch, or throw the quaffle straight through the hoops. Initially, the boys practically fought to stay in the warmth of the castle, but when they saw how many girls would show up in the stands to do homework and watch Chris play? They were just as eager to get down to the pitches as Chris was.

George Clarkey!HP au where he finds out he's a parselmouth when Arthur finds a boomslang beneath their sink and pulls it out at 3am, causing George to shriek and clamber up onto the bed, hissing the serpentine language in horror - shocking not only Arthur, Chris and the snake - but even himself.

Arthur Hill!HP au where he gets scolded by his head of house for playing the Weird Sisters well past midnight, and thus scours the library (with ATV's help) until he finds a Muffliato spell which he uses to soundproof his dorm so that him and ATV, Chris n George can listen all night.

#chaos crew #youtube #youtuber #youtubers #chrismd #chris dixon #arthurtv #atv #arthur frederick #arthur hill #george clarkey

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neartheeasternfence · 2 months

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The Yakuza Prince

Impressions; Chapter 55

Since there are three or more intermittent panels in which Doumeki is wide-eyed, he looks appreciably astonished to hear that Yashiro is impotent. He tries not to divulge the privacy of Yashiro that he knows, even though he is virtually ‘sharing’ Yashiro with Inami. But Inami must have caught it on. I like the way Doumeki described that Yashiro’s body cannot be helped (lustful) (ch.50, vol.8). He does not attribute Yashiro’s ‘lustfulness’ to a matter of personality. More precisely, I like the prudence of this author in these details. Doumeki would have thought that Yashiro’s body needed constant care for its ‘lustfulness,’ and he has taken on that task, and done it. And then he might well have realized that he did not want any other man to do it.

Inami also offers some business information. The two almost have reached the same view that Kai may have had something to do with the Niki kidnapping. And that about Okuyama, it appears he has been reclusive recently.

Hirata had temporarily occupied the position of a deuteragonist during his conflict, and from now on, it seems Tsunakawa will be so. He is an intriguing type of yakuza in this work. Yashiro, Nanahara, Sugimoto, Hirata, Doumeki, and probably even Misumi drifted into the yakuza world as outcasts with nowhere else to go, and then, they formed a pseudo-family there. But for Tsunakawa, it is the family business. He was born into a declining family as a scion. The baby grew up and undertook both obligations imposed on him and promised privileges without being daunt. Young Tsunakawa was an irreverent yakuza prince, radiating a glistening ambition to rebuild the small kingdom he was to inherit.

10 years later, he still “has forced himself” from the corresponding need (ch.37, vol.7), and the Sakura Family has many enemies. At the same time, he appears to be a pretty good family man. Since the Family has survived through a system of hereditary succession, it is likely that their patriarch, the clan leader for generations too, has managed to balance the family business and family life. At a very young age, Niki understood the significance of Doumeki’s missing small finger (ch.37). It is natural for her that men who serve Papa would attend to her as well. Do not know what kind of life she will choose for herself after she grows up, yet for now she has accepted the fate of the yakuza little princess. It was Tsunakawa himself who cut Kai’s left eye. Then it looked like Kai lost his left small finger and was excommunicated from the Family. When Okuyama-gumi became independent, he must have settled there. Indeed, Okuyama seemed to be calm, or “a man who does not know what he is thinking (ch.49, vol.8).”

Doumeki bowing to Tsunakawa, replying, “I understood,” it feels like all the more ‘manly.’ It would be partly because his neck looks thicker, but also because it can be figured readily that he is in control of his swirling emotions for Yashiro under the equable attitude he shows to his superiors. The car on the next page would be parked near the gate of the Tsunakawa house. Doumeki has the media in his hand, putting a pained expression on his face. Then he drives to Yashiro’s high-rise condo.

Four years ago, when Yashiro took a cigarette out, it was one of Doumeki’s functions to light it (ch.15, vol.3 or a line drawing end of vol.3). Yashiro neither asks, “Are you back?” nor “Why do you take it away?” He might have been surprised, otherwise centers on this moment. He must feel reluctant to let go of what their reunion and the ensuing concerted action have brought.

Yashiro and Domeki seem to be getting closer emotionally, not only physically. Concomitantly, Doumeki has been in a dilemma between his loyalty to the Sakura Family and his private emotions toward the former boss. On the other hand, Yashiro’s trauma has never been unresolved. That is why he has needed Inami for the last four years.

What Yashiro had undergone was too relentless to overcome as if nothing untoward had occurred. It should be impossible to do such. By all means, however, I do hope his severe psychological load due to the profound devastation to his fundamental sense of safety, security, and faith in others -- his anxiety and fear of his existence -- will lessen, and he will be able to deal with them more moderately. Expect how further the work explores it...

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #saezuru chapter 55 #鳴鳥不飛 #twittering birds never fly

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etirabys · 9 months

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I was in a funk – the kind of funk where, although I was not particularly unhappy, my mental narration (and concomitantly Posting) dried up. This is slightly akin to being dead in my opinion.

I reread DWJ's The True State of Affairs (novella, one of her earliest works, atypical) and it unkinked me immediately. I've been reading DWJ since I was so young, and find her style so substantive and pleasant, that the thoughts started flowing again – at first sounding like her, then reverting to my mean.

#rambl #dwj #the true state of affairs

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totallynormalbehavior · 11 months

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Title :Cigarettes after sex

Beelzebub x MC

NSFW (MDNI)

Beelzebub 's palm seems to scorch your thigh.

He navigates the road easily.After a few hours of driving, the car stops at an empty parking lot. He leans back, taking a lighter from the inside of his coats pocket.

"'mma smoke." He side glanced you.

The almost imperceptible quirk of his brow lets you know Beelzebub asking permission. You let out a helpless sigh. "Go ahead, I'm used to it."

His thumb flicks the lighter, shooting a spark while staring at you, sucking air with the cigarette between his lips until the end burns. "Used to?"

"You and Bael. Back then." You shrugged indolently, and then asked, "what happened to you and your friend ?"

Beelzebub blows a breath, the smoke starts to waft inside the car. "It’s a long story..."

He sees your gaze and puts out the cigarette by the car handle, uncaring of the burn marks it'll leave. His green eyes flick to your lips; he lifts a hand to cradle your face, concomitantly he leans in. "Princess." He holds your chin. "Instead of looking at me like that, do what you do best."

You and Beelzebub move to the backseat of his car. You lie down facing the front window and shifted your body to face his form above you. He starts a trail from your mouth down, to your chin, to your throat, following an invisible line between your chest, and then burying his face in them, giving your nips little friction. Your body archs when his lips ghost over your clothes, reaching your tummy. You feel him reaching for your wrists.

Raising your sandals, you poked his groin, rubbing the soles to his glaring bulge. A little innocent play-

Click.

Your hands are handcuffed on your back. Taken aback, you voiced out your confusion. "Beel, what are you doing?"

Beelzebub looks down on you as he takes off his coat and then starts to unbutton his shirt. His jade green eyes darkened and the tent in his pants seemed to be larger.

"Isn't it obvious, princess?" His voice grew deeper, a little course. "I have to punish you for leaving."

He places his knee between your thighs, grazing your crotch while he leans back, his cold gaze looking down on you simultaneously took of his tank top in a deliberate manner, just slow enough to tease you. He unties your and leaned down while he starts to undress.Your breasts perked up, nipples hardened because of his touch. Beelzebub squeezes your breast a little too strong, it makes you hiss. As if to apologize, he nuzzles his face between them, his lips skimming on your soft flesh. The fringes of his hair is almost tickling your skin, but the feel of it is enough to leave goosebumps.

Finally, his mouth latches on your nipple, and you let out a low moan. "Beel”

The way he sucked your breasts was as obnoxious as before. Loud; smacking his

But then he'd swirl his tongue, and your back arcs.

He'd get entertained with your breasts for a little while, until he gets bored. A pop sound would echo when he's done. Then, his fondles grow heavy. He'd pinch your skin; he'd tug at your nipple until you complained to stop. The sting would linger and he'd blow at it, tingles would spread and your body shudders. He lets out an amused sound.

He moves away, lifting up your legs while he positioned his face to your crotch. You weren't wearing any panties and your arousal soured the air. Beelzebub groaned at the glistening view. "Fuck,I missed this."

He kisses down along your inner thigh on one leg, his breath fanning your skin and you could feel yourself trickle in anticipation. His kisses backs up and he switches to your other leg. He bites your skin between his teeth and pulled. You flinched.

"Fuck you, Beelzebub !" The handcuffs digs into your wrists.

He chuckled. "Soon, doll" He proceeds to give you a hickey where no one else but you and him can see.

He continues to touch you lightly, featherlike pressure of his lips ghosting over, careful not to accidentally graze your clit. He brings a finger to run up and down your folds, up and down, like you would do when you touch yourself, except better because of the callouses He wouldn't press his tongue, not until it starts to drip down there from his caresses. And if you asked, he'd do it sooner.

"Beel.." You beg, while trying to slip off the handcuffs in vain. "Please just start."

He gives you a bored look coupled with a lazy smirk.

But if he really was bored, no one could make him do anything. Your heart stutters when he places soft kisses on your mons, the area above your clit. You feel like mush and your heart is gooey at the action, good enough to make you moan.

"Just eat me out already!"

He pools his saliva in his mouth, making sure his tongue is thoroughly wet, dripping the excess on your folds. He keeps his tongue relaxed, and then he flattens it over you, the wide coverage makes you mewl. With his tongue still, his head motions upward until he reaches your nub where he puts pressure. At this point your lost in a world where only Beelzebub eating you out exists. He repeats the motion over and over.

He picks up on your breathing going faster to which he deliberately slows down. Your needy whine turns into a desperate whimper when his tongue slips inside.

Bringing a thumb to your clit hood, Beelzebub circles around it while his tongue darted up and down. The sounds you make because of him is adorable. He slots the whole length in, his nose bumping to your clit. You moan loudly, your legs are shaking so you squeeze them on his shoulders. He finally brings his tongue up to your nub while he inserts two digits inside and found you were so wet already. He keeps a steady pace until the coil inside you grow tighter and tighter and -

Your body convulsed; your mind wiped blank.

It took you a minute to notice you trapped Beelzebub 's head between you. He laps you up before pulling back to kneel, unbuckling his belt. You giggled.

"That good, huh?" He stared at you amused.

"I remember when you were so bad at eating me out."

"Hmm, seems like you had fun." He slides down his zipper with one hand, and the other holds his length with precum leaking. "I need a little help here, princess."

Wanting to return the favor, you sit up with hands still cuffed behind your back. You take your time in kissing all over his shaft especially the sensitive underside.

Just breathing next to it had him rearing to go. You start licking softly like you would on a popsicle. He grunts quietly when your kisses starts to turn sloppy, wet smacking noises resounded loudly, as well your his heavy breathing. You lock eyes with Beelzebub as you wipe his precum on your lips to make them wet. Your mouth closes on the tip. And his hands fly to your hair gripping hard for a second, forgetting themselves until he regains self-control. He runs his fingers through your hair, petting you as encouragement. Your mouth pops again when you spit on him for more lubrication.

Resuming eye contact you take him deep, making him bunch up your hair once more. "Princess-"

You ignore him by going on with the steady motion and he had to pull you away. "Get in this position." He makes you lie down again, rubbing himself on your folds, teasing the head before he thrusts in. Good. "So good, Beel.." The way he splits you open is always one of the best parts. He calls out your name lovingly as he lifts your right leg for a deeper angle. He thrusts harder this time.

Shit. For a moment, you forget Beelzebub does it rough.

Your pussy still feels sensitive. "I- I can't. Beel, slow down!"

His skin slaps against yours. You messily try to keep up with his pace but he throws you off by raising your leg higher, reaching your deep spot. "Hmm? Slower?"

"Please, Beel."

Sweat beads roll down his face, all over his body and the scent inside the car thickened. "I'II slow down if you answer me, princess. Who do you like better: me or them?"

Fuck. You swore your heart stopped for a moment.

How are you supposed to answer that? The reason why they liked you in the first place is because you didn't choose.

"Answer me, doll!" His thrusts are even rougher now, and his pants heavier.

"I don't know- That's not fair! You know I won't choose!" You arch your back when you feel his pace become messy and uncoordinated. "I'm-" You peaked at the same time as Beelzebub exploded inside you.

Steam builds inside the car, the windows as foggy as the cigarette smoke, and yours and Beel's breath mingled as one. It's been half an hour since he uncuffed you. Since he made you choose. You and him lie naked on the backseat. His chin rested was just above your head as you're on top of him.

Beelzebub stared in a daze at the headliner, his right arm hanging down from the side, a cigarette stick between his fingers; while his left hand is on the back of your shoulder, making you distinctly feel the cold metal of his wristwatch on your skin.

"Hey."

You tilt your head to look at him. The soft forest green in his eyes made your stomach twist.

"Forget about it."

You hide your face in his chest and he pats your head.

But you don't think you could, so you think of him.

#what in “hell” is bad?#whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #WHB hc #whbfanfic

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