#i do think she needs to get better at taking criticism but at this point i'm just shitposting so that's not helpful to her LMAO
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What is your advice on handling criticism?
I saw your response to a critic on Lore Rekindled in the sub and it's very good and you could say, professional.
I have a big problem of people-pleasing, so if I get critcism (eventhough it's very polite), I get very sad at the fact there's fault with my work (I also suffer from perfectionism). It will drastically change how I see my work, and in the end I give it up 😭
fam i got teased tf out of for making it so wordy LOL
I totally get that struggle though, I know it probably doesn't seem it at times, but I do have the 'ole RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) due to being ADHD/autistic, so I totally relate to the whole people pleasing thing. It's hard to feel like something you made isn't making everyone happy! But that's also ultimately not what it's for. You can't make everyone happy, and your art doesn't deserve to exist any less just because some people don't find it their cup of tea.
I've definitely had to like, disconnect my work from myself over the years to get better at taking criticism. Not to the point that I get apathetic, obviously I should be invested in whatever I'm working on, but enough that when people criticize my work, it's not necessarily an attack on my own self.
And if they are clearly just out to attack me, then I dismiss the criticism, it's of no value to me.
Unless it's something that's specifically a result of my own values or biases bleeding into the work, most of the time it's people literally just saying, "I like this work, but I feel like it wasn't as strong as it could have been here and here" and that has nothing to do with me as a person, I'm just still polishing my skills and those outside opinions help to target specifically what needs improving. I think we as artists pour a lot of ourselves into our work, especially when we're just starting out, so it can be hard not to take criticism as an attack or rejection of yourself, but we have to ultimately remember that we are not 100% of our work. Even with works like LO, while some of the criticism I give of it is indicative of Rachel's values and personal preferences as a person, a lot of it is also just about the work itself and how far it's fallen beyond what I assume Rachel intended from the beginning.
I've also learned to separate helpful from unhelpful criticism. I'll use Time Gate as an example because I've gotten way more input on that series than Rekindled (just because I've actually like, intentionally sought out criticism for it). A common criticism in the past was that there weren't enough backgrounds and the story's pacing wasn't concise. It sucked to hear at the time, especially the backgrounds one, because I'd heard that one time and time again... but it was literally because I wasn't doing anything to improve them. You know what stopped those criticisms? Drawing backgrounds more LOL And I still suck at backgrounds tbh but I feel like I've definitely improved compared to the first few volumes when I was just drawing characters on top of white constantly LOL
old and busted:
new hotness:
(i think there's like a 4-5 year difference between these two pages. and the backgrounds STILL aren't perfect in those newer volumes but they still feel more finished than the older panels did)
So that was helpful criticism! My art wasn't as strong as it could be in a few specific places that people were clearly able to pinpoint, so I did what I could to improve those places and I'm still working on it.
Unhelpful criticism has just been either personal attacks (not valuable) or statements that are basically asking the comic to not be what it is, criticizing things that are features, not bugs. Things like "well I think the story is too anime-like", "it's a lot to try and read", "why don't you draw eyelashes on the girl character", etc. which are criticisms of things that I know are intentional. The story's anime-like because that's the story I want to write. It's a lot to try and read because it's intended to be a longform series for people who like reading longform series (people like me!). I don't draw eyelashes on Uzuki because she would look terrible with them LMAO (we even made a joke about that later on):
(the hilarious part is that that comment was definitely made with the idea that all women should have that makeup look, meanwhile mitsuhiro's pulling off the look so much better and he knows it LMAO
And actually, the example you're referring to where I responded to crit in the ULO subreddit, is also an example of unhelpful criticism, though the person who posted it definitely didn't mean any harm by it, but the crit was literally "why aren't Persephone's boobs big enough" which I thought was pretty funny. She still has boobs! I just don't draw them popping out of her top like Rachel does LOL I also don't give her the exaggerated pinched waist or broken spine that Rachel often gives her because that's all just to, again, emphasize her boobs, and it's often unnecessary, especially in a comic that's being marketed as a feminist piece of work, yet is often drawn completely through the male gaze. So yeah, that was definitely crit that wasn't really beneficial because it was literally just about Persephone's cup size lol
I know it's easier said than done, but when you feel that sadness coming on in response to criticism, remember that that criticism exists to help you, not hinder you. Considering you've been getting polite criticism, that means the people giving it likely have your best interests in mind and want to see your work improve. The only way to do that is to learn how to critically analyze your own work, and the only way to do that is to surround yourself with works whose quality you want to achieve, and get outside opinions. And if that criticism isn't in good spirit, then toss it aside. If it's not going to help you, then it's not of any value to you. And yes, it will take practice, there are still times I find myself getting overwhelmed, but ultimately I can't control what anyone else says or does, only what I do. So I funnel that into my work and I always keep moving forward.
Be at peace with the process of learning and improving, because you never stop having to learn, there's always something new to improve, and that shouldn't be taken all doom and gloom "I'll never be perfect", that's literally just the process and beauty of being an artist, there's always something new to learn and that's something that should be exciting!
Think about whenever you give criticism or have personal critiques of other comics. I'm willing to bet most of the time, you have those opinions with good intentions, you're not trying to attack anyone. So why not give yourself the same grace?
...holy shit, I forgot Uzuki's lipstick in the bottom right panel- （；´д｀）ゞ
#and i know i'm sounding hella hypocritical because i'm MEAN about LO lmaooo#but that's what y'all followed me here for sksksksk#i'm NOT entitled to her attention or acknowledgement#and also i genuinely don't expect or wish rachel to find my crits of LO here#i do think she needs to get better at taking criticism but at this point i'm just shitposting so that's not helpful to her LMAO#ama#ask me anything#anon ama#anon ask me anything
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i think everyone on sunnytwt needs to be sat down so i can explain to them what basic human empathy is. and then maybe i put them in a blender until they agree to write meta about the characters instead of whether or not charlie day got facial reconstruction surgery.
#ada speaks#u do not exist in a vacuum and your words have the capability to harm others#celebrities may not see your tweets but your balding transmasc mutual and your follower who feels self conscious about her nose will#it is fucking bizarre the way these people conduct themselves online#really. really fucking weird man#and then you see them acting like ppl are 'defending rich white men'#instead of taking issue with the actual shit theyre saying#whether or not you think rcg has been 'under the knife' or not#a) how is this any of your business. you are not entitled to this info nor do you have a free pass to criticize someone's personal choice#b) ask yourself why you feel you need to critique alleged surgeries and how they stack up to imposed conventional beauty standards#c) you do not *own* them. you can have opinions on your own attraction to them but#a person getting plastic surgery or hair plugs or whatever is up to them. not you. if it helps to make them feel better then who cares.#just because it doesn't make them attractive to YOU doesn't mean its okay to point and laugh#if a trans guy got top surgery and it was 'botched' would you act like they were stupid for getting it in the first place?#if a trans woman decided she wanted to surgically shave her jaw would you shame her for that?#it's their body. it's not yours.#for the record i don't believe any of them have gotten work done but think its a stupid thing to speculate on regardless#ive watched family members go through plastic surgeries of varying success. ive seen them get botox and hair plugs and everything#normal everyday people do it and it's not always about vanity#it can be for gender reaffirming reasons (and yes this includes when cis people do it) to alleviate dysphoria#trying to point out alleged surgical alterations made is just. gross#not to mention that holy shit MOST of the shit ppl are saying is like. age. different hairstyles. different facial expressions.#maybe if these people actually watched the show theyd be able to see the gang in action instead of staring at pics like spot the difference
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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
#blue eye samurai#mizu#akemi#kinuyo#bes#women are birds okay they are BIRDS#the let me die line is so SCARY AND SAD like a part of Mizu wants death but she cant? she doesnt know how?? excuse you show???#when all these other delicate birds are dying all around her#akemis character gets more and more gutwrenching upon subsequent rewatches because whenever she says her life is in danger#NO ONE BELIEVES HER - certainly not other women#because shes rich and pampered and that means shes safe and is worrying about nothing right? right?????#and it turns out that all of akemis instincts were right and she was in danger the ENTIRE TIME#also I need to make a post just for kinuyo because I am sad
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❥ she loves me like a dog
feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader
summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.
warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion
Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.
There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.
And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.
Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.
Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.
“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”
Your throat felt tight.
“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”
The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.
“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”
There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.
Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”
“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”
Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.
“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”
“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”
You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”
“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”
“Already on it, babe.”
With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.
In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.
A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”
“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.
Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”
You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.
Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.
“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”
Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.
Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.
Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.
“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”
At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.
You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.
You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.
At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.
Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.
“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”
#❥ my writing#❥ valentino#❥ vox#valentino hazbin hotel#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#Vox x you#Vox imagines#Vox headcanons#Valentino x reader#Valentino x you#Valentino imagines#Valentino headcanons#Valentino smut#Vox smut#Hazbin Hotel smut#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel x reader#Hazbin hotel x you#Hazbin hotel imagines#Hazbin headcanons#tw.dark content#tw.noncon#tw.violence#tw.abuse#tw.manipulation#hazbin hotel fanfic#Hazbin Valentino smut#Hazbin Vox smut
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coup de théâtre - IVE Jang Wonyoung (Ft. An Yujin, Naoi Rei, Kim Gaeul)
Part 2 of folie à deux.
IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male reader smut.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Masterlist word count: 11,849
coup de théâtre - a sudden and surprising event
"You're just not getting it." Wonyoung stresses as her hands settle on Rei's hips. "If we get too close here, it's going to ruin everything."
"So you don't want me right here?" Rei's shoulders slouch and she pouts in confusion.
"Watch. Yujin, you know what you’re doing." Wonyoung signals the other girl over. "Gaeul, ready?"
She gives a confident nod and readies her posture.
"Alright, music, cue.” That is your signal. See, that's the only reason you're here. Wonyoung insisted you help them out during their dance practice. With the speaker at your feet, you slouch against the mirrored back wall. You can see yourself, shorts and tee loosely hung from your body, in the mirror across the room. Between you and it, the four girls are ready to spring to life. They swear they'll make it big, maybe they will, but they're not there yet.
You hit play on your phone. “Five, six, seven, eight,” and three of the girls dance. Wonyoung watches as the girls inevitably get in each other's way. Rei goes to cross between Gaeul and Yujin and the gap is so small that she almost takes a fist to the face. The mistake brings them to a halt.
"See? We need better spacing." Wonyoung demands the point again and stands between the three, explaining how things will have to line up. The four of them flail arms, pointing at their feet, imitating footwork and readjusting as needed.
You'd argue she isn't even the best dancer among them, not that there's much disparity between them. But she's the one who insists they have to be critical or they will never get better. The girls take this school dance club more seriously than anything else in this place. They start from the top again with another countdown and another play from you. It doesn't take long for everyone to get back into the motion. Gaeul turns, Yujin shifts, and Rei steps. This time it all goes buttery smooth.
Hips sway and asses shake. Bodies glimmer with sweat under the studio lights. All their slender figures move with equal parts energy and sensuality. The original choreographer wouldn’t say it, but to say it's seductive wouldn't be wholly incorrect. From the powerful steps to the flowing graceful movements, the whole thing is a pleasure to watch. Every little flourish is alluring and equally mesmerising.
This continues, round and round, over and over and over. Slowly, they iron the kinks. Work out the errors. Find the minor adjustments. All until they're dancing with all the confidence they need to own the stage when the time comes.
The sweat on their bodies soaks in to the tops of their practice outfits. Each movement has their loose strands of hair cling to their faces, necks, shoulders. They're drenched, exhausted, but they keep pushing through the final attempt. The music fades out; they finish. Rei throws herself on the floor. Laying, legs extended and arms resting beside her, she stares at the ceiling for a while with a soft groan.
The other three head toward you (more accurately; their drinks). You lift yourself up onto the bench, taking a seat at the end and handing the bottles to the girls. Wonyoung sits right beside you and leans back against the wall mirror.
“Good job. That looked great."
"Yeah." Wonyoung barely manages that as her heavy, laboured breath requires most of her focus. She grasps her bottle with trembling fingers.
"That was good," Gaeul confirms as she takes a seat next to Wonyoung.
After handing a bottle to Rei, Yujin stands right in front of you. Drink in one hand and the other resting on her hip, at the waistband of her skin-tight leggings. "What about me? Did I look good? I think I nailed it." Yujin breathes as the words escape her lips. Her heavy lashes lower and gaze at you. A bright smile spread across her pink-tinged, sweat-slicked cheeks.
You reply honestly. "Yeah, you did. Perfect."
Rei lets out a couple of forced coughs to mockingly comment between them; get a room.
Wonyoung snickers at Rei's joke. Her breathing steady and her gaze on Yujin. "Looks like she wants to, don't you, Yujin?"
"You think?" Rei chimes in again.
“I think so," Wonyoung chuckles and swipes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "The changing room is free, but I can't promise I won't walk in."
It's like she insists on making it as awkward as possible. But there's no way she can know about you and Yujin. No. That's impossible. This must just be a coincidence—a light-hearted tease.
"So when's next practice?" Gaeul interrupts, saving you both your blushes. "I can't do any weekend practices, I'm going on a trip."
"Oh right, the fiancé," Wonyoung begins, and you brace yourself, because you know the kinds of things she usually says here. "why him? Isn't he kind of… beneath you?"
Wonyoung is every bit as blunt and harsh as usual. There's no ambiguity there—no double-meaning or clever innuendo. It's a comment born out of her own distorted view that everyone is beneath her.
Yujin turns round, glaring with her brows raised and silently mouths the words: 'are you serious?'
"I like him," Gaeul answers simply. You'd never met her fiancé but if there's one thing you'd learned about Gaeul in your limited interactions is that she didn't act on whims. If she said yes, it's because she really likes him.
"It's his huge cock, right?" Wonyoung is as brash as ever and Yujin almost chokes on her sip of water. Rei’s head snaps up, and she's staring from her laying position. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s caught in your throat.
"Maybe," Gaeul cuts through the awkwardness. Everyone pauses. The attention in the room rests on Gaeul, each of them not so subtlely urging her to keep talking. Yujin takes a seat on the ground at your feet, cross-legged, and ready for a story.
Gaeul has one hand scratching at her arm and the other gripping at the bottle in her lap. She hesitates a moment. Maybe she’s busy wondering if she should (or if she dare) say any more. And then she erupts in to a story that pulls no punches. "This one time, me and him got into it pretty heavy and I was deep-throating his—sorry, too graphic?"
There's a collective shake of heads. Even Rei has sat up to listen intently now. Gaeul gives the faintest smile in recognition and she continues.
"So there we were. I'm lying down and deep-throating his cock. I've got him all the way in my throat, and there was still more to go. I just couldn't. As much as I wanted his whole cock in me, it just wouldn't go." Gaeul gives a pout, lamenting her failure. "I tried so hard, I felt like I couldn't do it. Couldn't breathe. I didn't know how, not with that length buried in me. I felt so small, and... I loved it."
Her face is turning a deep shade of vermilion as she relives the memory. Still, her hand squeezes tight around her water bottle and all the others wait for Gaeul to continue. Yujin is leaning forward, hands on her knees, eyes wide and listening closely. Wonyoung looks rather relaxed on her stretch of wall with her head laid against the cool surface. The sweat from her cheeks and brow slowly trickling down. But she's rapt, fixated, awaiting the story.
"The tip hit the back of my throat. I just didn't want it to stop."
As she describes it, her candid description, with no holds barred, the vision her story creates does something to you. Your mind races at the thought that it might have been any woman in Gaeul's position. Yujin. Wonyoung.
Wonyoung.
Her hand is halfway up your thigh, clearly excited at the image Gaeul is painting. You appreciate the gesture, don't misunderstand that, but there's enough sensory overload without having the weight of her fingers pressing into the firm muscle of your thigh. It isn't doing you any favours as the tiny beads of perspiration at Wonyoung's temple burn on her skin and her flush skin glows. There’s no blaming you for the fantasies that form in your mind. Each as naughty as the last.
Yujin.
She's staring out of the corner of her eye, eyes locked with you and a blank expression on her face. And you just wonder, what it would be like to have her mouth wrapped around your cock. It's difficult, staring down the girl you like while the girl you like (and regularly fucking) has a hand on your leg.
And you just want them both. Right here, right now.
Gaeul continues, "and he's just grabbing at me, palm on my face, gripping my head and he's just fucking my face." You can barely hear her over the beating of your own heart in your eardrum—drumming loudly.
"I must've been choking, and he thought that was hot. He couldn’t stop and I didn’t want him to. He had me pinned, pressing his fingertips into my skin."
Speaking of fingertips, Wonyoung's trace your crotch, blindly roaming and teasing.
"Fuck." Wonyoung's only word—just a whisper from her lips.
Gaeul continues, "I was in heaven." Her eyes are sparkling. They’re glazed over and far-away, lost in the vivid memory.
"Wow," Rei stares in awe.
Gaeul shuffles around in her seat. First running her hand over her legs, pressed together at the knees, before moving a hand over her waist and pulling at the clingy material of her black yoga pants, that stretch tight across her hips. "So... Um... Yeah I guess you could say I like his huge cock."
Yujin speaks now and her voice cuts straight to your core. "He must love that you're, like, a total submissive slut in bed."
"Sometimes," Gaeul is almost back in the room, no longer enraptured by the memories of being used.
"You must blow him any chance you get," Rei pushes.
"Of course." Gaeul nods. She seems pleased as punch, her mouth spreading into a wide grin.
The words spill from your lips, "what about in public places?" And well, fuck, you meant for it to sound a lot more coy.
"A time or two..." she pauses, puckering her lips as her brows lift together, her head tilts slightly, and her gaze lifts upwards as she wracks her mind. "Well, a few times, if that’s interesting to you."
"Very.” Fuck. “I mean. I'm just curious." Stop talking, idiot.
"Well, the details are a secret for now," she grins toward Wonyoung and Yujin, who share a smile and a look.
"How come I haven't heard about this?" Rei chimes in. "You've got a new story every other week, but not even a whisper of this?"
"Because this is naughty and embarrassing." Gaeul covers her face. She's clearly a confused mixture of turned-on and shy right now. She might be a bit hesitant to share her wilder adventures, but the others aren't at all apprehensive about listening to the dirty details.
"One more," Wonyoung requests. She sits at the edge of her seat with a hand planted on your crotch and the other resting on her knee.
"Another?" Gaeul inquires. "I think it's someone else's turn now."
"Gaeul is right. Yujin, ever done anything naughty in public?" Wonyoung asks, drawing in and passing on the attention.
"Not in public, but..." Yujin stares at you for a moment too long. Clearly, the whole not telling anyone thing doesn’t apply to the girls in this room. It’s all far too obvious. "But I did have some fun recently." She grins like the cat that caught the canary.
"How recently?" Wonyoung cocks her head and a few loose locks fall over her shoulder. "What kind of fun? Who with?"
"Just... some guy. He was a total sub, did everything I told him to." She drags her teeth across the plump swell of her bottom lip.
Some guy? Sometimes it feels like all you will ever be.
"Did what you told him?" Gaeul sounds intrigued. "What did you ask him to do?"
"Don't know," Yujin answers quickly. Too quickly. "Nothing much. Just something special for me." Her teeth are back against her lower lip, chewing on it before continuing. "Thing is, he’s a cute guy, and he was a real natural.”
"Did you cum?" Rei jumps in again, straight to the point.
"More than once." Yujin's face lit up. “I didn't let him fuck me, though. You should have seen the desperate look on his face.”
“Did you even let him cum? Poor guy.” Gaeul sympathises unnecessarily, and unknowingly, with you.
“I did, made him blow a load right on me.”
“Oh fuck, I love that.” Rei chimes in with an approving nod. “On my body makes me feel so hot.”
“I'm a face girl myself.” Gaeul admits before bursting out into embarrassed laughter.
Wonyoung stays noticeably quiet on this one. Of course, you know why. ‘Too messy’, she always told you.
“Yeah, we know all about that,” laughs Rei at Gaeul.
God only knows how you ended up in this situation. Sitting between four women, all gorgeous in their own way, each getting equally aroused by the topic of conversation. The atmosphere in the room, so humid and hot already, has seemed to intensify tenfold in the moments since Gaeul began her sordid tale. Now, with each question and subsequent answer, it was building steadily, the sexual tension increasing in magnitude with each word. The heat of their sweat-soaked bodies permeates the air with the burn of the midday sun.
"You didn’t even get fucked? You're no fun, Yujin. I need detail." Wonyoung is feeding off the stories and expelling the energy through her touch into your cock. You pull your knees up now, to try to hide what Wonyoung is doing to you. "Rei. Save us. Please give us something juicy."
"I uh, well..." The nerves in her face are clear. Rei is more than happy to press details from others, but now she's in the spotlight. "There was this guy I met online. I don't even know his name. He just went by an emoji."
"An emoji?" the other three girls say in unison.
"Yeah. An orange. Anyway, not important. So, we met up." Her hands run along her bare thighs, feeling the sticky heat of her palms and the cool beads of sweat along her smooth legs. "I kinda asked him to... I mean, it wasn't explicitly—" She begins her excuses as though her asking this anonymous man to come meet her was shameful. Her fumbling words get a giggle out of Yujin.
"Calm down, Rei, no-one is judging." Gaeul gives her friend an easy smile.
"This was just to hook up and no strings. He had a hotel room." Rei rubs at her neck. Blush overcomes her face.
"Love that vibe." Gaeul holds up a lazy thumb of approval. "The no-strings thing."
"So this wasn't a vanilla fucking, I bet. Did things get wild?" Wonyoung asks as she squeezes her grip on your cock in excitement. "Were there handcuffs or leashes involved? What was it, a spanking? Maybe even gotten yourself a strap, Rei?"
"Oh my god," the embarrassment hits Rei even stronger, even more colour blossoming into her skin, "you're unbelievable," she manages. "So, uh. Not that exactly."
"Yeah? Well, do tell," Gaeul smiles politely. "Might pick up some ideas for my fiancé."
"So there were handcuffs," Rei mutters, then shrugs in an almost nonchalant gesture.
"Yes!" Wonyoung whisper-shouts. "Nice. Let me guess, tied up and whipped." Her hand is the most motionless it has been on your clothed cock the entire time. As if it's frozen in anticipation.
"He restrained me. Cuffed me to the bed. Had his way with me," Rei reveals. It's obvious now she was looking anywhere but in your direction. "The guy was packing too. And knew what he was doing. My whole body was shaking, legs like jelly," she continued, eyes glassy, dreamy even, a thin film covering their beauty, staring ahead without focus. Her nails tap idly at her neck, like she is recalling the memory.
"Fuuuck," Wonyoung swears loudly. "That’s good." She can only speak in hushed tones now, the heat having sapped her strength and turned her speech breathy.
Wonyoung rolls her hips back. Just the slightest bit. But enough for you to feel it, a soft brush across the side of your leg. A brief acknowledgement of contact. An assurance, to you, that Wonyoung hadn't forgotten you or the movements of her hands.
"Shut up," Rei blushes at her friend.
"Look, you're squeezing your thighs together now. Just thinking about this mysterious Mr Orange is turning you on. You sure you're not dripping now?"
"Alright Wony, you're making it weird now." Yujin laughs at her, breaking some of the tension. "Sounds like you need to get laid. Still not doing anything with that boyfriend of yours?" The whole question rolls of her tongue while she’s staring at you. You’re caught in some unspoken, twisted game.
"Nope. Never will. You know I don't like him." Wonyoung’s words are ice cold. You never pushed for details on it, but you have picked up on bits and pieces of this before. As best you understand, her family pushed the relationship on her. He's some wealthy heir from another chaebol family. They never loved each other, or even knew each other properly. The relationship was purely political. Strategic.
"I have to go," Gaeul speaks while frantically tapping away on her phone. It's painfully obvious to everyone in the room what’s happening and where she's going. Her fiance is probably already getting the cuffs ready. But she doesn't seem to care to hide it and, to be frank, she cannot be the only person excited about the prospect of sex right now.
"You two girls should probably go too. I'm going to stay and work on my form a little." Wonyoung turns to face you. "And you're going to help me, right?"
"Of course, whatever you need." You respond automatically, feeling almost obligated at this point. Yujin chuckles at you. Probably internally mocking just how easy you really are. Just like how she described you earlier. Total sub.
"Okay, see you." Gaeul stands abruptly. “I need to—”
“We know.” The rest of you say together. She nods her head and then is heading for the door in a rush, collecting her stuff messily under her arm. She drops her hat at the door and stops to pick it up. While bending down, she looks back at the four of you.
“Have fun!” Rei calls out with genuine excitement.
Gaeul nods again and spins, rushing out the door.
Rei moves slower to leave, reluctant, almost. But once Yujin stands and is gathering her things, Rei follows suit.
“Aren't you supposed to be taking us home?” Yujin looks at you. She already knows how this will play out, but she wants to make her point.
“You could always wait outside for him.” Wonyoung responds for you with a cocky smile. There's no way she is letting you go.
“Why do you need him, anyway?” Rei asks.
“Rei, sweetie, look at her hand.” Yujin turns to her but gestures her hand out towards you—towards your lap.
“Oh. OH!” You can see in her face that she has so many questions, but the stare from Wonyoung makes her keep her mouth shut.
“Let's go,” Yujin places a hand on Rei's shoulder.
The two girls are walking away from you, and all you can do is watch their asses leave. Leggings hug one, the other in shorts, both thick. Plump asses, firm thighs, wide hips. The stretchy material of their clothing barely constrains them.
"Alright, now let's get down to business." Wonyoung immediately shifts to sit astride your thigh. It's not that she doesn't know that Rei and Yujin will spend their whole journey home talking about you two. It's just that she doesn't care.
She's straddling you. Her own leg pinning against your hard bulge. Wonyoung rolls herself along you, sending pleasure radiating in ripples throughout your body. Wonyoung smiles mischievously. "We've got half an hour, maybe."
Her hot breath hitting your face. It's hard to be sure how much of it is from her arousal and how much from the intense dancing not ten minutes ago.
"Fuck, that was so hot. The idea of Gaeul getting her pretty mouth fucked." Wonyoung lets out a satisfied sigh as she sinks her hips against your clothed leg. "Did you see her face? I bet she was creaming at just the memory."
Wonyoung's fingers slip under your waistband, then her hand follows them, wrapping around you and pumping. "You liked it." The confirmation is in her hand, but the grin on her face grows, evidently pleased to find your arousal. She licks her lip hungrily and gives a slow pump of her hand. "That's perfect. I really need a cock right now. In my throat."
As she says it, she backs off your lap, stands and steps away. Just a slight separation, but the difference is enormous: the absence of her hot, wet centre creates a vacuum—impossible to ignore.
She's already twisting around on her heels. Then she pulls her tight, tiny shorts down and takes her thong with them, squatting slightly to pass the clothes over her legs, leaving her bare ass in front of your face. She turns back to you, wearing only her skin tight tank top. Her sodden cunt is now right there, bare and as pretty as ever. "Clothes off."
Obedient and efficient, you pull at the bottom of your shirt to lift it over your head. There's no slow tease, just business: you lift your hips and pull off your shorts and underwear together, while kicking off your shoes.
"Get up," is her instruction, the stern bite on her voice only seeming to harden her demeanour. Wonyoung takes your place on the bench, sitting delicately, like an idol would. Cross-legged and her hands atop her knee. Her top still hugging her frame. She raises one hand and angles a single finger towards you, her wrist pointing to the ceiling. She beckons you, parting her plump lips and resting her head against the mirror behind her.
Mouth, Wonyoung signals again and, with that, you're moving towards her.
Wonyoung demands your attention. Everything about her is inviting: the playful half-lidded gaze as her tongue swirls in her mouth and she lets it roll slowly along her lip. Even just the sharp cut of her jaw and long strands that frame it are striking and you'll be the last one to object to giving her what she asks for.
“Wony—”
"Shh." A sharp sound. Her lips purse. Inviting. "come here."
Without a sound, your stiff cock presses toward Wonyoung's silky-smooth face. Though her lips are glistening and begging for you to glide in, they rest unmoving, arrogantly waiting for you to do the work. It is only for a brief moment, but it's infuriatingly unhelpful. The silence breaks though, and she groans in a mix of anticipation and irritation and tilts her face up, angling her hips against the edge of the bench as a soft hiss escaped her lips. "Now."
Your hand tangles into her hair as she wraps her mouth around you—wet, warm and oh-so very inviting. And she wastes no time in pushing forward and dragging your head in deeper, enveloping you, with her tongue sliding on the underside of your length. And she hums gently, the vibrations reaching you and rippling through the depths of your groin. She is eager for your cock, her hands reaching and clawing. A controlling grasp on your hips.
Your hands remain firmly wound into the strands of her hair, gripping as if you are afraid of floating away, all the blood in your system rushing to your centre, dizzying your brain. She began pulling your hips against her, directing the movements and ensuring each pump brought another inch into her mouth. She continues eagerly. Wonyoung's technique was a blend of savouring and indulgence, an incarnation of sheer passion.
Even from beneath you, Wonyoung maintains all power. She guides you without the slightest hint of effort. The flex of her shoulder, the flow of her arm. She pulls you in.
Deeper.
Every pump bringing your hips closer and closer to her face. Every move is for her, from the angle of her head to the arch of her spine and even the hollowing of her cheeks. She owns the power in your body—and she wants it that way too, drawing you ever deeper, encouraging more movement, silently coaxing and promising a glorious reward at the end.
Keep going. Words unspoken but never more clearly conveyed. The flutter of her eyelids and the fire they temporarily conceal. Her throat contracting against the tip of your cock every time she guides you in. The warm comfort of the excess saliva running from her lower lip.
Eyes fixed on her pretty face and innocent gaze through the not-so-innocent act. Everything around you in a haze.
Deeper.
Captivating. Her movements never waiver and her determination is infallible as your mind clouds and you feel that coil in your belly tighten and constrict and burn through. You know this can't last forever. No matter how much you wish it could, but you're lost in the trance and there's nothing that could break you out of it—except maybe Yuj—fuck, not now.
Wonyoung stops, throwing you a look as if she knows. As if she felt the doubt inside you. She parts her lips and draws her head back.
In a move that washes away all those doubts, Wonyoung brings right leg over left and follows through the movement, lifting her legs onto the bench, feet flat and knees in the air. Back flat against the bench. Head suspended from the end of it.
You're on autopilot, following her face down, your soaked cock leading the way. You shift, putting your knees on the hardwood floor.
She puckers her lips, closing her eyes and arching her back. Wonyoung lures you in. Her tongue curls and reels you inside her mouth. Just an inch and then two, then three, then four. Your eyes revel at the sight. The mirror to your side only elevates the experience as you watch your cock disappear in her. Two Wonyoungs laid side by side, taking two cocks.
Wonyoung continues arching as you push on. Further and further and further.
Deeper.
Until... no more.
Until her eyes squeeze shut and the walls of her throat clenches, seizing down on you.
A strangled moan rasps in your throat as you lunge forward, trying desperately, selfishly, to press beyond the possible. You could lose to her right here and now.
Not now, no, not yet, not without fucking that tight little throat first.
Her throat bulging with the girth of your cock, her muscles desperately attempting to repel the foreign invasion.
Air is at a premium for the petite girl strewn out on the end of your cock. And yet, she settles, relaxes. She feels at home with a throat full of cock. Her long, slender legs remain folded together, yet while you were caught up in the intensity of entering her mouth, Wonyoung found the time to bury a hand between her thighs.
She's fucking her own hand. Rotating her hips and squeezing her thighs.
You draw out of her mouth, only for a second, just to give her the gasp of air she so desperately needs before you fuck into her throat again. Her legs clench as you thrust. Every little bit of pleasure that Wonyoung desires, she gets—as always.
There it is again, the vibrations against your tip as she moans.
Your fists full of hair and now, you pound into her pretty little mouth without pause. Creating the lewdest of sights. Wonyoung on the verge of orgasm, her face filled with you.
She's only becoming more of a mess as you fuck it, the saliva pouring from her mouth running over her. You keep going for so long that she’s spluttering. She’s choking now between the brief moments you give her, just like Gaeul was in her story. This is what Wonyoung wants, exactly how she wanted it.
It’s funny that for a girl so intent on you not making a mess of her, this is what she has become. She just has to really want it. Duly noted.
And god, is she fucking loving it. The pleasure washes over her as her body wriggles, and you continue your thrusting. She continues her own. Together, you take her to her peak. And you don't stop. Her hand doesn't stop—pushing past it, forcing herself into a state of bliss.
It's messier still. It's so fucking messy when she cums. Tears streaming. Saliva drooling. Sticky cum enveloping her hand.
And it's good. It's so fucking good when she moans on your cock. It's soft. It's tight. It vibrates, sucks—holds you and stimulates you. Her throat is—if only for a moment—the best sex toy that money can’t buy.
You have to give it to her, she’s playing the role of toy perfectly.
This toy? It plays with you.
She pushes her hand against the base of your cock. No more fucking. No more exploring the depth of her delicate throat. She had just came, after all.
That’s what matters to her.
You—you're on the edge and hanging on for dear life. The knot is twisted so tight that it hurts. And holding you on that edge is Wonyoung, holding you by the cock. An unmoving hand. If you weren't already on your knees, you would fall to them.
"Fuck, that was good." Wonyoung peeks around the cock she holds above her face, a wry smile painting her lips.
You want to reply, but your need to cum is clouding your mind like the most powerful of drugs. Words are just letters floating around your mind. Intoxicated by a woman, as you have been so many times. She's not just any woman.
"What's wrong? Aww, do you want to cum?" She playfully, with no real grip, twists and pulls her hand on your cock. It's not enough.
You let out a huff and nod.
She flashes an evil grin. "How about on my face?"
It's not something she's ever offered before. As much as you thought, so many times, about covering her pretty face in your cum, you never expected her to offer it. Perhaps that alone should serve as a warning. Too good to be true.
But at this point, you don't give a fuck. In her throat, on her face, you just need her to give you a sweet release. You chase it, pushing your hips towards her hands, desperately searching for friction. Blinded by lust, as dumb as a dog.
"First, tell me something." It says a lot about her. How she can be mostly naked, on her back underneath you, freshly fucked throat and all. And somehow she holds all the cards in this situation. "Did you fuck Yujin?"
"No..." It's not strictly a lie. You never put your cock inside her.
"I saw your dirty faces, the way you look at each other. And the way she told that story, about you, with you right there."
"Wonyoung. We didn't fuck. But even if we did, would that be so bad?"
"But she let you cum on her?” Wonyoung laughs aloud and starts playfully stroking your cock again. "You should have fucked her."
The action of her hand is torture, keeping you dangling and off balance. You were so close to the release and now she is holding you over the precipice, with no warning of a fall either way. You're as lost for words as you are for action. But truthfully, is it even a surprise that Wonyoung doesn't care if you do fuck her friend? She is the one cheating on her boyfriend, after all. Your only crime may be not telling her first.
"Now, will you cum on my face already? I know Yujin will never let you do this." And that’s it. The crux of it all. It all makes sense, doesn’t it? The reason this is happening, any of this here in this room, is because she refuses to be outshone. She intends to match act for act with all her friends, except Yujin. Yujin, she wants to beat—and the game is you.
And the irony is, she would never let her boyfriend do any of this.
"Fuck, Wony, you're insane," you grit, nearly delirious. This couldn't get any better. Two identical hot girls, mirrored and now they're getting even more adventurous. And Wonyoung finally ready to give you the satisfaction of blowing a load on her face? You couldn’t care less why it was happening, only that it was.
You fucking into her grip. In some metaphor for the whole relationship, your hips do work while her hand guides, keeping you aimed at her innocent face. She softly closes her eyes, slightly parting her lips. Waiting. She looks so beautiful, relaxed and comfortable, despite knowing what was coming. Despite the saliva still running from her mouth. Despite the post orgasm glow on her face.
"Anytime now." Wonyoung opened one eye, her face still pointing directly upwards. "Don’t make me ask again."
The feeling takes over, starting at the root of your spine, in the base of your gut, and bubbling like a cauldron ready to explode. Her soft hand strokes harder, working you the last few paces as her tongue slips past her pink lips, flicking over them gently.
The sensations erupt. That familiar hot-cold tingle. Those electrifying nerves firing off. You buck wildly, firing off ribbons of cum across Wonyoung's flawless, innocent face. Her lips spread apart in a wide open-mouthed gasp and then shut immediately afterwards.
And, amidst the spurting of cum and the euphoric high, Wonyoung deviously began licking, slurping, sucking. Swiping the fluid off her lips, catching every shot. Her face is the image of debauchery. You're fixated—stretching out the few remaining seconds of orgasm as your cock twitches in her hand and on her face. She's draining you dry with her naughty smirk.
Even when it’s over and done, she maintains that same confident look on her face. Her nose and lips are shiny and dripping with cum. But she never hesitates; her mouth parts and her tongue juts out, curling up to you. Your cock disappears inside, a wet-hot paradise. She's cleaning you. Swirling her tongue and sliding up the length, pulling off the mess. Sucking on the tip to coax the last remnants to pool inside her waiting mouth.
Your body burns. Satisfaction seeping out your limbs and leaving your body weightless, barely holding yourself over her on the wooden bench.
She draws you out. Dripping with her spit. Hanging heavy. Sensitive as her mouth lets go and pulls back, the suction releasing. Then, lips tight, mouth closing, her neck moving as she swallows.
Wonyoung twists and rises, sitting again the bench, in your kneeled position this leaves you eye to eye.
Pain. Stinging.
So much of it on your left cheek.
She just slapped you. She fucking slapped you. You're bigger than her, stronger than her, and yet you feel so small.
"Next time you fool around with another girl, you get my permission first."
Her voice is icy. You shake your head, holding your face. Staring at your reflection in the mirror; you're flush but one cheek is redder than the other. And you can see her too. She’s pulling up part of her top, wiping away most of your cum—the bits that didn’t already fall onto her body or into her hair, anyway. Her face looks like an angel's, but her actions betraying the illusion.
"Now make it up to me." She's looking at you through the reflection. Then, turning and facing you directly, she reaches out to hold you by the jaw, pulling your focus back to her. It’s hard to believe that she’s the one cheating here.
She slaps you again.
You're locked in a cold and silent stare. Tied together by tension.
You're stunned. Left at her mercy. Wonyoung dips her head forward, going in for a kiss, her heart-shaped lips plant directly on your own and before you know it, you're returning the kiss.
It's rough, and it's messy. She bites at you—hard—while her fingers claw your skin, running along your muscles. All until suddenly she pulls you, guides you. Not physically, but that's certainly what it feels like. Such is your response. You take her place on the bench, sitting while she leans over you.
Wonyoung breaks the kiss and leaves you to watch the scene unfold and admire her perfect form, lithe and slender but not without toned definition, which is exactly why she could pull off outfits that would send men insane, simply based on how she looks underneath.
Her hands splay across her flawless flesh. Deliberately. Slowly.
Never a movement out of place and ensuring her head is held high and regal—a queen's demeanour.
Standing over you. Looking down upon you, no less arrogant than before. It’s her natural position. Her default state. To have power over man.
If she didn't look so angelic, you'd swear she's a devil.
Starting at her shoulders, fingertips slipping over the porcelain skin of her arms until they reach the elbows and hop over to her waist, gripping the hem of her tank top. It doesn't sit as tight as it did before—bunched up, a little twisted, and dashed in cum. It doesn't sit in any fashion for much longer as she pulls it overhead in a single motion. The top lands discarded and forgotten. Her hair, damp and ruffled, now cascades over her petite shoulders in thick strands.
She's bare now. Head to toe. Your eyes dart all over, drinking her beauty like a tall glass of water. Taking in all her stunning details—she is a perfect portrait of a perfect woman, a fantasy even.
This image has been burned into your mind many times over. Yet somehow, each and every time feels new. Awestruck, you admire her petite body, the lean and firm muscles, and just enough of a pair of breasts that gravity calls their name.
"Wony. You're so—"
"I know." She cocks an arrogant smirk.
"I think—"
"I know." She stalks slowly closer. Like a predator over its prey.
"I want to—"
"Oh. I know." She's so damn cute when she giggles. It almost feels inappropriate for what's going down. And then the little devil rears within her again, manifesting in her expression. Darker than it was before.
Her fingers trace her flat stomach, rising and falling in time with her breaths. A cadence to them which tells a story of excitement, no less excited than the first time she teased you in your car. Now here, and over a month later, you still haven't gotten your fill. Even this—maybe especially this—could never be enough. The slightest and subtlest hints of arousal are beautiful on her. She's practically purring when she perches on top of you and pins you back against the mirror by the shoulders.
"Who does your big dick belong to?" She poses the question while delicately lowering herself onto you, staring into your eyes. You hesitate to answer, too stricken by the image of Wonyoung finding a comfortable seat on you.
"You." No matter what your relationship might be or who else was involved, in this moment, like so many before it, you are hers and no other. "Fuck me, Wonyoung, please."
"So very needy." The words roll off her tongue as the heat of her cunt skates up toward your middle. So close against your skin, you can feel her pulse throb against your stomach. Her petite ass pressing down onto your stiff cock. Her hands spread wide and palms flat on your chest, steadying her, giving her strength. Her hips roll, coating you with the wetness between her thighs. Back arched, neck strained, head tilting upwards. Every muscle flexes in her exposed form.
She is unadulterated eroticism, every grind of her hips and caress of her hands. An utter marvel.
"Don't. Move." Every word has her breath caught in her throat.
Been through this so many times before that there's an unspoken understanding. Wonyoung scoots her body over you. Hand reaching for your cock. Delicate fingers. Dainty, as she grips it, guiding, angling it against her. Lower, lower until—she finds the entrance and presses it against herself. A sharp intake of air. Her eyes squeezed closed. She holds there for a second until gravity takes control, hips dropping to impale her onto your length.
Your eyes roll back and so does your mind, back to the view of Wonyoung's body moving during the dance. Does she know she's mirroring those mesmerising hip movements on you? Maybe not. But it doesn't change anything. Not to Wonyoung. She does it so naturally—the consummate performer, who knows what works.
You're looking down. Down. Down to where she's perched on your dick. Admiring her tight cunt, working so hard to take you in. Muscles gripping. Walls clenching. Stretching to fit. Working her body downward.
Her ass never rests on you. This is all her work. Perpetual motion. Constant and consistent. Down and then up and then down and back up. Gradual. Calculated and controlled. Fingers raking at your chest as the motion of her body doubles as the dance, sending that intoxicating swaying motion through her and into you.
Eyes travel up. How her toned abs flex. Trim and petite. It all only serves to highlight just how pretty a figure she cuts. Elegant and alluring. Sinking down, squeezing you into her.
Higher. Her perky little tits in front of your face. Smooth, perfect, porcelain.
Higher. Her sharp collarbone, all the little contours, carved for her as though by the most brilliant artisan.
Higher. Neck curved, shifting from her swallow and gasp.
To her blood-red lips. They part and between them her tongue flicks, hitting her front teeth before she bites down on her lower lip. It stifles a soft moan until it's barely a whisper.
And her eyes. Sheer focus. Not on you. But on the mirror behind you.
On her own reflection.
All the time you spend to admire her, she is doing the same thing. Staring herself up and down. It is selfish and greedy. An egotistical desire. An intimate moment—with the person she truly loves most.
It's narcissism taken to a degree you've never seen before. An addictive kind of worship. For both of you.
"Wony..." holding your eyes up to hers, watching her as she's watching herself. She looks like a goddess. "Does it feel good? I love the feeling of my cock inside you," you say in an attempt to gain her focus. "Fuck. You're perfect."
A soft exhale as her eyes lock onto yours for just a moment, then her lashes flutter closed.
She takes a hand from your chest and plants it over your mouth. Her eyes flicker back to life and she's got them on the mirror again.
She's aggressive now. The girl in the mirror is hitting her hips harder than before onto the cock beneath her. Her crotch hitting against your own. You can't help but steer into the skid, being the silent participant she desires. You're pawing your hands at her cunt now. Figuring out then matching her rhythm and pushing your finger against her clit. It's obscene, hearing her wet cunt smacking against your legs.
Her almost silent focus breaks. She's not stifling her moans anymore.
And fuck you for saying this: but watching her watch herself makes the moment fucking magical.
Her eyebrows knitting as the tides of pleasure crash over her. Her lower lip quivering. The wrinkles on her nose. Her chest fluttering. A struggle to maintain her posture.
She's shaking. From her arms to her knees and through to the tips of her fingers.
She throws herself forward against you.
Head on your shoulder. Her forehead against the glass.
Wonyoung's entire body is convulsing on you. A string of incomprehensible cries echoing against the empty walls. You grab at the flesh of her ass with your hands, clamping her tight, encouraging her to keep pushing back into you and ride out the orgasm. She is shaking violently in your embrace. She is grinding, squeezing, tightening, and quaking all at once.
You run a hand up her moist back, along her spine. Meeting many moistened locks of hair, sticking to her skin. You hold your hand at the top of her back, supporting her limp frame against you.
Her mouth is right by your ear. You listen to the final quiet noises of bliss escaping her. Washing out of her. She lets you know just how good it was, if not from those satisfied groans and the shuddering of her body, then from the deluge of her arousal pooling around your cock and her cunt. She is dripping cum. Hot and sticky, in more than one spot. It was messy. Messy, but it was unbridled fun.
"What the fuck was that?" you whisper. She raises her head off your shoulder and leans back, sitting tall on top of you. Still, your cock is inside, throbbing and ready for its turn. Her hands snake to your jaw and hold it tightly.
"Exactly what I needed."
"And the mirror thing?"
"What can I say? I look pretty when I'm fucking." Wonyoung laughs, soft and breathy, an intimate moment shared only by you two. Now it’s not like you should be surprised by any of it. On a scale of one to ten, Wonyoung is an eleven, though you imagine you asked her. She would give herself a twelve.
The hands leave your jaw, only to be replaced with the pressure of Wonyoung pressing forward again to kiss you. More? Finally.
"You wanna cum again?" she asks, words separated by kisses before moving to your neck.
"Mmmm..." is all the answer you can give, distracted by the feeling of her body shifting against yours.
Wonyoung pulls back from your neck to look at you, burrowing her hand into the hair at the back of your head. She squeezes into a fist, forcing a grimace of pain from you, which brings a grin to her lips.
"Is that a yes?" Her voice a blade edge against your ears.
"Fuck. Yes. Of course."
"That's what I thought." The sly girl, hiding the self-assured vixen underneath her exquisite exterior. "Stand. I want you to fuck me against the mirror."
Still planted to the hilt inside her, you begin to stand.
You're unable to pull out of the tight wet warmth that is Jang Wonyoung. Her grip tight on you—coiling around your cock—effectively pinning you in her. Her body melts against you like candle wax. Warm and lax.
She's weightless as you stand, her slender frame clasped around your body. It's easy to manhandle a girl this small—one of your hands, pressed firmly to her back, can encompass her tiny waist. Your other arm hooks under her ass, holding her suspended. And, for the time being, all of her is draped over and around you.
You press her to the cold mirror, and she shudders, arching her back. Her entire body stretches as if trying to get further from it—leaving a smear of sweat on it. Legs lock around your hips. Folded tight. Locking in the key. Caging you between her thighs. You hold her with a single hand now—curling it under her tiny ass. Fingertips gripping, digging into flesh. The other against the mirror—for balance.
You bend your knees, taking position, gaining posture. The slightest movement it causes inside her brings a gasp. She's clinging tighter to you. Her arms coil around your shoulders, her ankles crossed around the small of your back, her core tightening and squeezing her pelvis forward—grinding herself into you. The squeeze on your cock exhilarates. The pressure is immense—inside and outside. You've never had her this tight.
A rumble rasps through your vocal chords as a growl escapes your mouth. It vibrates against the warmth of her neck and into her small frame.
"Come on, give it to me, don’t hold back" her lips barely move as they whisper against you.
"Is that what you want, Wonyoung? You want me to fuck you as hard as I can against the mirror?" Your hips press firmly against hers. Her tight cunt does its best to embrace you.
"Fuck. Yes."
That was all the cue you needed, drawing back and then slamming yourself deep in her—and back again—forming the thrust into a series of unforgiving blows.
She bounces between your pelvis and the cool glass, rattling as her naked form is hit against the mirror. Small, supple and yielding, taking your full force, each movement amplified and exaggerated in her tiny frame. Her cries—from shock, surprise, pleasure, and delight—they echo. The lewd smacks of flesh hitting, the loud moans and the heat. It all collides right here on the wall of the studio.
It's frantic. It's furious. It's fucking euphoric. You're locked inside a beauty who is getting filled to the absolute brim by your cock. It's a power rush—Wonyoung's eternal play on control and dominance being robbed from her and your ability to just keep pounding into her tight, wet cunt.
"Ah!" Wonyoung winces. You pause for a brief second. Did she really mean stop? But a moment later, her lips curl into a grin, "Yes! Harder! Don't hold back. I need you to wreck my fucking pussy!"
And it begins anew—all the noise. The bouncing, slamming and swearing. And despite the fire and the fury, you can sense a strange calm. Like this is exactly where the two of you are supposed to be. This is exactly where the both of you always needed to be. Right here. In the moment. Because Wonyoung doesn't need a man and she didn't need someone who would fall at her feet and treat her like royalty—she has enough of those. No, all she ever needed was a dick who could fuck her within an inch of her life.
A hard slam sends Wonyoung crashing back to the mirror with a shrill yelp and a wide grin. "Yes! Exactly like that!"
Firm fingers twist into your flesh, her hands clawing, desperately grasping at anything she could find to ground her, all while your brutal assault continues unabated, sending waves of ecstasy cascading through both bodies. Her wails rise and break—crescendos interrupted—but never stopped. Both of you are a complete mess as the furious fuck brings out everything each of you are. The deep animalistic desires. And when you hear her scream, it is a different kind of high.
"Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop! Don't fucking sto—mm!" she struggles and gasps for breath, struggling to keep track of her words, the raging bonfire between her legs clouding her mind. "F-fuck..."
"Cumming? Cum." The only words you could manage. You could feel it too, the rising tide. A mountain climber, clinging to the peak, each and every muscle engaged in the fight.
"Yes—" her breath is snatched before another animalistic moan. "Don't stop." She pulls at your hair, claws at your back, a fierce warning. "Don't fucking cum yet."
She holds, gripping onto the ridge, the muscles in her arms, in her legs, her hands tense. The world turns, spinning, and spiralling—the two of you holding tight to one another, both grunting with the strain. She is cumming now, you know it. She spasms against you, against the mirror, and she’s becoming ever more difficult to hold.
Your feet are failing you, threating to give way. In a desperate act, you spin from the wall, drop to your knees, taking Wonyoung with you. There's no stopping you now. Feral. Bestial. Both of your bodies crashing together. She's arching, clawing, and pulling and urging you forward. On the hardwood floors, you fuck like animals. Your legs may have given way, but your hips don't surrender. Don't succumb to the exertion. You're fucking her in to the floor. Her tiny ass pressed against it.
The thundering smack of flesh.
Tumultuous breathing and roaring, unbroken moans.
Arching, bending.
Heating and rising.
You're right on the edge.
She never lets you finish inside.
"Wonyoung, I..."
"Don't fucking dare." Her voice sharp. You hold on to the feeling for dear life. "On me."
It's enough. You accept that it’s never in her. Never before on her, but now twice in a day. It’s enough. She can't possibly mean it...
"I'm—Fuck, I'm..."
"On me. Yes. Cum allover me." She releases you from her grasp and you pull back to your knees. She spreads herself for you. Arms out to her side, palms flat on the hardwood floors, legs pulled apart with her knees resting on your hips. Presenting for you.
Your hand wraps around your shaft, throbbing and hot to touch. You beat your cock for a few quick seconds, with balls tight, with Wonyoung laid prone for you, watching you stroke your cock.
Watching her. She arches, presses herself upwards, offering her breasts, her stomach... her face.
You don't have any time to think. It is happening.
You unload on her with a sharp grunt, met with a shocked gasp. Coating her petite form. The white stuff gliding across her porcelain skin, decorating the gorgeous girl beneath you. The lean cut of a dancer, now adorned in your cum. You shoot ropes of it across her perky little tits and narrow stomach and her pretty face. A sticky sheen glazes her and drips down. Her tongue flickers, collecting what she can and her mouth hungrily welcomes each droplet.
What's this, you wonder? Is this to be her addiction?
Every motion of her body screams need, sexual need. She wants it all, greedily licking and lapping it up as you drop the final rivulets of cum onto her tummy.
You're captivated as you watch Wonyoung, laying patiently under a sputtering of cum, a thin layer glossing parts her body. She didn't bother to wipe it or scoop it up, instead; it ran down her, following the channels carved out by her subtle contours. A work of art in your eyes—this pretty face, contorted in twisted lust—at the feeling of hot, sticky fluid painting her perfect body.
In all these moments you two have shared, this truly is a first. A messy, debauched cum covered Wonyoung.
"Does it feel good to cover me with your cum?"
You nod.
"Say it. Out loud, I can see it in your eyes. You like seeing your cum on my pretty little face? On my body?"
"I fucking love it, Wony," you mutter and she laughs, a laugh somewhere between playful and impish.
"I feel filthy," Wonyoung confesses with a devilish smirk. "I bet you love to hear that?"
"Yes. Yes," you breathe the words out as you desperately try to catch your breath. Her leg comes up, sliding her toes along the underside of your sensitive cock. Too sensitive.
"Agh," you flinch. "Fuck."
She pushes the tip of your cock against your stomach, rubbing her toes on it and you start to pull away, the friction causing pain.
"Stay." Her tone is a firm demand, in control of the situation—despite her current state. Your body obeys the instruction. Her toes start to roam across your softening cock again. Slick with her fluids. She twists, rubbing the shaft. Pinches, rubbing the head. Pulls, tugging down. The intensity of stimulation is mind numbing. A sick mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Who's the best?" Wonyoung asks. It takes a few seconds to process, a delay, and longer than normal. Your brain fogged. Too much to even formulate words.
"Who's the best, hm? Answer me." Her demand is no louder but feels heavier. Her foot slides down your cock, pushing at the base, pushing at your balls.
Your words are slow to follow.
"Wonyo—" she presses more, and a shock runs up the base of your spine. "Agh...you. Wonyoung, you." Your words choke up. "You're the best."
"Thought so."
Another moment of silent pause. She puckers her lips, sucking up and swallowing a patch of your cum that found it’s way to her hand. It draws your eyes to her, a silent spectacle. She locks on you, her gaze so steady and so piercing.
"And, who's going to clean this mess up so we don't get caught?"
"Me." The words tumble out, falling off your lips.
"Good. Your bathroom is down the hall. Don't get caught, and don't leave a trace." She recoils her foot and then climbs out of the mess the two of you left on the floor. Her step is awkward. Your load is now starting to harden on her. Her calves slick from her own cum. The gloss of it shining on her skin.
All the time, her face beaming. Satisfied and glowing. Wonyoung is relishing her depraved state. She doesn't wait for you to follow. Not even a look as she collects her clothes. Her shorts with the thong. Her completely ruined tank top. Both shoes. She starts to walk, again with that awkward gait.
After only a couple of steps she looks over her shoulder, back at you, still subdued on the floor. "By the way. That was your best yet. That… was amazing." She smiles softly and heads to the changing room. She disappears. Leaving your mind and your imagination to swirl as you stare at her spot on the floor long after she was gone.
The cum, her sweat, the stickiness—all the marks that prove she was there, the evidence that paints a picture of what went on in this dance studio.
You never see her leave. She must have slipped out between trips to and from the bathroom, and then the janitor's closet, which you eventually found. You thank the stars for Wonyoung's privilege—that meant no staff are needed on the evenings she is here.
What a strange silence it was as you cleaned—nothing but the rain outside. An unsettling contrast between what went on before. Almost tranquil—like that weird place just before waking, before reality has time to assert itself and erase the dream of the night before.
***
"It's dance practice tonight. I take it you'll be there again, following Wonyoung as usual?" Yujin mocks you playfully while playing with her straw between her delicate fingers. Her glass half-full of milkshake which she lazily stirs and drinks. Drinks loudly with a slurp on the straw.
"Don't you want me there?" you reply after swallowing the last bite of your meal and setting down your cutlery. The cafeteria is as lively as ever. Aside from this particular table, where it's only the two of you. It's not the type of table just anyone can take a seat at—Wonyoung wouldn't allow it.
"Doesn't matter. Wony's the one that invited you."
"She just wants me to—"
"Wants you to fuck her. Yeah, we all know." Yujin lets go of her straw, and it settles into the milkshake. You both lean back in the plastic cafeteria seats. She crosses her arms. "And no, it's not that I'm jealous. Don't even try it."
"I didn't say anything." You show her the palms of your hands. Not guilty is your plea.
"At least if I hang around, I can take you guys home, right? No need for your father to send a car." Always the people pleaser, you are.
"And did that happen last week? No, it didn't." Yujin picks up her drink and takes a slurp from the straw while staring at you. It's hard to tell if she's actually annoyed at you. Her words would say so, but her tones remain calm and soft when she speaks.
Besides, she knows that she could just as easily make the same demands Wonyoung does, and you'd be on your knees for her in a second.
But it's been 8 whole days since that night at Yujin's house. And she's yet to even hint that she wants it to happen again. The more you think about it, the more confused you get.
"Not interrupting am I? I can give you some alone time if you like?" Gaeul places her hand on your shoulder, looking down at you and grinning.
"Not funny Gaeul. And no. Sit." Unusually cold from Yujin, she avoids your eye and gives Gaeul a short-tempered response.
Gaeul walks around behind Yujin, giving you a wide-eyed glare as she goes. As if to say 'what did you do?' It's impossible to answer with words. It's all too much, too tangled.
She takes a seat next to Yujin, placing her iced coffee on the table along with her protein bar. It's typical Gaeul. She's always on the move, living life at an aggressive pace, constantly busy. Even now she's on her phone, scrolling through something. You can't see what from this angle, and you've barely got the chance to catch her eyes and smile at her. But her face lights up, the brightness mirrored as you smile back.
"They're announcing the casts tonight for the graduation performances." Yujin nods as her finger points toward Gaeul's phone.
"We already know how it's going to go down. They’re not going to deny the money and status of a Jang. And we’ll be there to back her up." Gaeul pauses and takes a sip of her drink. "For us anyway. That's all that matters."
Gaeul slips the phone back into her bag and then scoops up the protein bar, starting to unwrap it. Before she takes a bite she asks you, "what about you? Why didn't you ever sign up to anything?"
"Because he's too busy sitting in the back of dance classes staring at our asses," Yujin answers for you.
"Actually, I'm still new here, remember? I just haven't got around to it yet."
"Yeah, because you're too busy staring at our asses," Yujin persists with a coy smile.
"Sure. Let's call it that. So I've been too busy staring at your asses to sign up for any classes."
"Alright, not too loud." Gaeul laughs. How did the conversation always end up going the same way? And how are you always in the middle of it? Thankfully, Gaeul decides to bail you out. "So, bro, any plans to go to the party tomorrow night?"
"You mean the one I didn't get an invitation to?" you're quick to ask back.
"You can be my plus one."
"Boyfriend not in town?" Yujin is quick to ask before you can reply to Gaeul.
"Nope. But I can't let that spoil my fun, plus it means I can bring a friend." Her eyes flutter back across to you. "Unless you've already got a plan for tomorrow night?"
"Sure, why not? Not like I've got much else going on. Are you going to be there, Yujin?"
Yujin swallows the last slurp of her milkshake, the loud straw sucking noise filling the void of the pause. "I'll be there. Actually, I need you tomorrow, before the party."
"Before?"
"Yes. You're going to help me pick a dress." It's not exactly the exciting rendezvous that sprung to mind. You weren't even sure exactly why you had to go. Why Yujin would need your opinion?
You open your mouth to speak but before even a syllable comes out, you spot Wonyoung across the room, heading towards the three of you. Yujin catches on and follows your gaze, not long before Gaeul follows suit, twisting in her chair. For a moment, the three of you are watching Wonyoung stride over the tiled floor. Each footstep seems to make the world grow quieter. People all around seem to part for her. It's not even conscious on their part.
It's hypnotising. It's captivating. It's utterly spellbinding the way she moves.
She has a sense of dignity, class, and poise. There's an elegance to her, and just a hint of sway in her hips. At the same time, Wonyoung's every movement also screams of a fierce strength. An undercurrent of steel. Not intimidating—not intentionally at least. Maybe simply the natural impression of a strong young woman, fearlessly unapologetic.
She reaches the three of you, greeting with a grin. "Did I miss much?"
Gaeul is the first to reply. "Just talking about the party."
"Oh exciting. I've seen the guest list. I can't wait." Wonyoung slides gracefully into the seat by your side, carefully placing her designer bag on the table. No need for her to say any more, Wonyoung and high-brow parties go hand-in-hand.
The room around you is slowly, subtly coming back to life. Sounds from everywhere start, one by one, to creep back in. The conversations return. The low hubbub. The clattering of trays. It's getting loud again.
Wonyoung continues, "and I do need to get out of the house. Father is away again and mother drives me insane."
"He's away again?" Yujin asks, shuffling in her seat and then leaning forward. She brings her palm to her chin and her elbow onto the table.
"New York this time. Something like that. Company business." Wonyoung dismisses. You are well aware that they've never been close. He's worked from the earliest day she can remember up until now—that’s the life of the head of a chaebol. She told you before about how he's rarely home. And even when his body is, his mind is still half-way around the globe. His wife probably suffers for it, too. She raises the kids alone.
And look, you were never one to pry, so the details aren't all there, but Wonyoung seemed confident that her father wasn't exactly faithful. The kind of stories you'd normally imagine just being made up by rich housewives who had too much time on their hands—but she told you he had quite the appetite for the kind of services the elite always seemed to appreciate.
"New York?" Yujin thinks for a moment, living in her own head. "I could do New York. Me and you? A girl’s trip. That sounds..."
"But what about the guy?" Gaeul points at you.
Wonyoung puts her hand on your leg, sliding down and rubbing your knee. "You'll stay here and wait for us, won't you?"
"Well, I was thinking that, you know, you could take him with you?" You never saw this coming. Maybe you should, but it caught you off guard. The three of you in the Big Apple for a week? Sign you the fuck up, and then some.
Not that you'd have a chance in hell of affording such a trip. The reality is often harsher than the dream.
"We could, but I don't think it would be fair on Yujin. Unless we..." It takes the others a moment to figure out exactly what Wonyoung is implying.
"No way, don't bring me into this. You already said that it would be weird. We’re too competitive."
They're speaking in tongues now and Gaeul's face full of confusion likely mirrors your own.
"What are you two talking about?" Gaeul questions, for her sake and yours. But before she get's an answer, she's looking out of the corner of her eye. She freezes for a minute and then turns to face the vice principal. She's headed right for your table and the four of you succumb to silence.
There's not many reasons a staff member would visit a group of students while they're eating at lunch. None of you are late with an assignment nor have you failed any tests. Not even a recent school event gone wrong. It must be something worse.
"Am I interrupting?" The Vice Principal stands over your table, looking over the four of you.
You all shake your head in unison, a lock of hair falling over Yujin's face, which she quickly sweeps back behind her ear.
The vice principal points in your direction, pointing right between your eyes. "You. Principal's office. Now."
The eyes of the girls fall on you. All of them shocked by the statement.
It's unheard of to be dragged into the Principal's office on a random Friday for seemingly no reason.
What's your first reaction? A chill in your stomach. Butterflies in flight, soaring. Fingers gripping tight to the fabric of your pants. Heart racing in your chest. Feeling dizzy. Lightheaded.
"Ummm. Can you tell me what I'm doing wrong?"
"You can ask the principal. Move."
***
"Take a seat." The principal gestures with an open hand at the two chairs across the desk from her. She's staring right at you through the reading glasses hanging on her face. Her perfectly pressed suit makes her look powerful—imposing.
And this room? This tiny room, with its uncomfortable hard-backed chairs in front of the big imposing mahogany desk? That's as much of a psychological tactic as it is functional. Because you know this; everyone knows this: the people who sit in these chairs are invariably there to get told off.
This room is designed with a sole purpose; to cause you discomfort and make you feel small. Make you regret your actions. Remind you that this isn't a friend's house, and you don't get to act up here.
"Sit." She insists. The tone of voice is harsh, but you're certain there's an undertow of regret there too. You sit, almost falling into the chair in the most awkward and graceless way. It squeaks under the pressure, but thankfully, no sound comes out of your mouth. Not a peep.
"Effective today. You are expelled from the institution."
What the fuck?
"What the fuck?"
"You will be escorted off the premises immediately. Your bags, belongings and text books will all be packed and returned to you at your registered address."
"You can't do this!" Can they? How is this fair? What went wrong?
"You will not be able to return to campus, as the academic board has taken into consideration the severity and inappropriate nature of the events that occurred on the grounds."
The severity and inappropriate nature...
Her words—they hit hard. Suck the air out of the room, leave your lips dry, and a strange emptiness in your belly. Your fingers grip tight to the armrests of the chair, fighting for a grasp on any emotion—any hope or words to grasp onto.
Nothing.
There is nothing you can say. No reason or explanation you could offer. Nothing.
The walls around the both of you stand, large, impenetrable and collapsing on you.
"The evidence produced to myself was conclusive. You and an unknown partner committed obscene acts last week in the school library. That is grounds for expulsion without appeal."
Unknown partner? Of course.
Now what?
coup de théâtre
Next part
#wonyoung smut#wonyoung x reader#ive smut#ive x reader#male reader smut#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#Yujin smut#Gaeul smut#Rei smut
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Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop
Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.
BULLYING
Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.
Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"
Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)
Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point
But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".
Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.
And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.
Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.
Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.
This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?
Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.
Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!
She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]
On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.
I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#vivienne medrano#vivziepop critique#anti spindlehorse#anti vivziepop#viv get a grip#vivziepop#hazbin#hazbin hotel#call out post#analysis#creator analysis#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel critique#hazbin critical#hazbin critique
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Help Wanted 2: Lets Talk About Sun (Spoilers for Help Wanted 2!)
Okay,
I've had some time to digest Help Wanted 2. What a freaking roller coaster. I'm assuming you all have played/watched/seen Help Wanted 2, so be advised if you haven't seen everything we have access to so far, I'll be bringing it up.
One thing I'll say upfront is its nice to know Sun and Moon ARE older like I theorized. They're tied to the Fall Festival which took place in 1970 per one of the prize collector posters and the fact they deal with the carousel. I think Steel Wool also tried to point out and confirm Moon is patient zero for....I guess I should say Vanny's influence in the PizzaPlex. He's definitely the favorite to be pitted against us. I'm STILL losing my mind over the Princess Quest Ending.
So, the DCA fandom has been all across the board, ranging from "I love sassy Sun" to "Sun is SO mean. This ruins my headcannon." I don't think it really does. At least, it doesn't have to.
Our first encounter with Sun in front of us is Arts and Crafts. This minigame is located in the world we eventually learn is AR. We also are clearly a new FazBear hire. Sun is definitely sassy, and let's face it, VERY critical of what he defines as a mistake. BUT the flip side of that coin is he is still nice when you do the art correctly. He calls you friend, he wants to help you. If the player eats the crafts, he loses his mind. It's because he's worrying for the player due to the effects eating the crafts will have on them, ie: "That is how you get ulcers!". (By far, MY FAVORITE line of Sun's btw. Kellen stated that line and the indigestion line were both improved btw- genius.) He still doesn't want Moon to get you, he doesn't want to get in trouble. The one threat is after you've been hitting him several times and you've outright pissed him off. (I personally, think the "I should turn off the lights myself" was a drama king being a drama king.) Then we take the mask off. We see everything destroyed and Sun acts like the Sun we've always known. "I'm perfectly fine where I am. It's better this way. It's safer this way." "Keep the generator on. Without it I won't be able to help you." He's the same as he's always been. We've just seen a new layer.
What we ultimately have to come to terms with, is that Sun is a control freak and a perfectionist. He thinks he "has" to be. He doesn't want you to move from your craft table so he can watch you like a hawk. Do the job you are assigned. Get in, get out. Do the art HIS way, and follow HIS rules. If you don't, bad things can happen. Bad things HAVE happened. Another explanation could also be that maybe he isn't as free of the glitch trap virus as we thought? He can be sassy, he can be brutally honest, he can be concerned for us, for children, and his own darkness can rear its head, all at the same time.
Steel Wool could also be trying to slam into our faces that Sun is incomplete. He is one-half of a whole. He has good intentions, he means well at his core, but he cannot stop, regroup, and act rather than react. He gets stressed, and can't cope and adjust. Instead, he demands control back when he feels like he's about to lose it. Moon is calm, calculating, and logical. It's why they need to be whole and why Sun is so grateful to Cassie when she fixes them to become Eclipse. As Eclipse, they both find the parts of themselves they've so desperately needed.
#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf dca#help wanted 2 spoilers#fnaf theory#sun and moon fnaf#fnaf sb#fnaf the daycare attendant#daycare attendent#sundrop#fnaf sundrop#fnaf eclipse
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if you feel comfortable doing so, how do you think the grid would react if gzd was going through a rough patch and she’s being like really quiet and in her head?
i’m kinda slipping back into this era and i just need the grids comfort
THIS IS ALL I NEVER WANTED
pairing: lando norris x driver!reader / daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x sebastian vettel
warnings: reader feels defeated and is ready to give up. swearing. mention of sexism.
author’s note: the comfort fic is finally hear, lmao :) sorry that it took me this long, got caught up with gentle hit, but it’s here now !!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''That's the car of Y/L that goes into the gravel- another DNF for the young driver.'' Crofty commented as he watched her retire from the fight for the third consecutive race.
Meanwhile in the car, Y/N's radio was bombarded by her engineer. ''We're so sorry, Y/N. A podium was possible, but we'll keep pushing harder for next time. We'll debrief.'' Marco apologised, frustration and guilt audible in his voice.
''Understood.'' The indifferent tone came as a surprise to the team and viewers, but it was understandable as the driver hadn't been able to finish a race in over a month.
The ride back to the paddock was humiliating to say the least. The pitiful looks from fans, the judging eyes of critics and the loud whispers didn't do much to brighten the dark cloud that was her mind.
Her post-race interviews also weren't a great help to her already declining confidence.
''It's the third consecutive DNF for you- how are you managing to stay positive and to not lose hope in the car?'' Nathalie asked her, sounding compassionate.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Nothing is positive at all,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I think I'm doing everything right and then it all goes wrong for some reason.''
''I'm working hard with the team, but it doesn't seem like it's paying off at the moment. I'm just very disappointed and I- yeah, well, I hate the car.''
The reporter in front of her wasn't used to the visible pessimism of the female driver. Y/N was known for her cheerful and up-beat character, always open for a chat and ready to take on any challenge. That figure seemed to be missing at the moment.
''I hope it gets better for you, Y/N. You're an amazing driver and I wish you good luck for the next race weekend, thank you so much for talking to us.'' Nathalie rounds up the interview before signalling to her cameraman to stop the filming.
Y/N was about to leave, but a gentle grab of her wrist stopped her. ''Hey, darling- don't let this get you down, alright? There are many people rooting for you here, me included, and we all want to see you do well. You have incredible talent and we know these lasts results aren't a reflection of that.''
The Sky Sports presenter had a soft spot for the young woman ever since her arrival to the paddock. Nathalie has always been amazed by Y/N's ability to shrug off all the sexist remarks and to prove the people that doubt her wrong.
''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' The soft smile on Y/N's face was a fake one, even a child could spot that. However, her words and gratefulness were genuine and that's all that mattered to Nathalie.
The driver moved quickly between the different journalists, not in the mood for the long and lovely chats that would have happened had she crossed the chequered flag. ''If one more person reminds me of all the DNF's, I'm going to knock myself out with one of these microphones.'' She mumbled to her team's press officer, making the woman laugh but also look at Y/N with a bit of concern.
Luckily for her, all the media responsible people must have listened to her prayers and went easy on her- maybe sensing her agitation and worsened mood. She and her press officer moved back to the team's hospitality, where a dreaded team briefing would take place.
''Obviously these aren't the results that we want. We want wins, podiums and points.'' Her team principal started off the meeting, standing at the head of the table. ''It is clear that changes need to be made, whether that be the car, the strategy or the driver even.'' The eyes of the team shifted from their leader to the young woman staring daggers at him.
''It's not my fault that the fucking engine blows up or that another drivers decides he wants to play bumper cars.'' Y/N defended herself, not seeing why she should be replaced.
He shook his head. ''I didn't say it was your fault, but we have to look at all the options and that includes you, Y/N.'' The man clarified, taking a deep breath.
The woman rolled her eyes, causing Marco to send her a stern look that said ''Please, don't make this harder on yourself.'' She got his sign and sat up straight in her chair, figuring her slumping didn't give off a great impression.
The briefing continued for another hour, going over all the alternatives they had and all the work they had to do while waiting for the next race weekend. ''Alright- thank you, everyone! Have a great break.'' The team principal dismissed the team.
Y/N was the first one to get up and leave, debating if she would slam the door, but she didn't want a Kevin x Guenther moment with her boss.
By the time she was on her way to her hotel, most fans had gone home themselves and the paddock was occupied by crew members cleaning the place up. Y/N had a slow pace while walking, not in any hurry to leave the circuit.
''You're going back to the hotel?'' A voice behind her spoke up, making the female driver yelp as she didn't expect someone to walk up on her.
Y/N turned around, Lando looking at her with a grin. ''Did I scare you?'' He laughed, finding amusement in making his friend flinch.
''You could have been a serial killer for all I know, you idiot.'' She slapped his arm, the tension leaving her body as it was only Lando and not some creep.
''Only on track.'' He winked.
The young woman frowned at his action. ''Please, never do that again.'' Her feigned disgust with his wink resulted in a light push from her friend.
''So… you're going to the hotel now?'' Lando asked her again, not having received an answer yet.
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, I could use some sleep before the flight tomorrow.''
''You, uh, wanna take a car together to the hotel? You know- that way we're not wasting gas, I guess.'' He nervously asked, mumbling the question almost under his breath.
''Sure,'' Y/N chuckled, ''Seb will be proud of us.''
They decided to take his car as she wasn't in the mood to drive anymore and Lando didn't seem to mind. She was grateful for Lando's company, at least her bad day would end on a good note.
''Sorry about the race today, I know you could have done more.'' Despite being competitors, they were also great friends and it's not fun seeing your friends have bad results.
Y/N sighed. ''My team- they're, uh, thinking about replacing me.'' She wanted to get her worries off of her chest and Lando bringing up the race seemed like the perfect oppurtunity for it.
''What?'' He exclaimed, not anticipating that sentence to come out of her mouth.
''They say they just have to think about all the changes they could make to get better results, but they've been talking an awful lot about the junior drivers so I'm just preparing myself for it.'' She clarified for him, resting her head against the window.
Lando let her words sink in. ''They- they can't possibly do that, you're one of the best drivers on the grid.'' It came out louder than he intended, but the thought of one of his best friends not being with him on track anymore upsets him.
''They can do that,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I'm impressed I lasted this long- I just know the FIA will be throwing a party now that they don't have to be feminists anymore.''
''What do you mean 'lasted'? You're not going anywhere, we have enough races left where you can show your true skills.'' Lando took his eyes off the road to look her in the eye, perhaps wanting her to see how serious he was.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any further.
The car stopped in front of a red light. ''Hey,'' Lando put his hand on top of hers, ''I'm being serious. We've been racing against each other for over 10 years now- you're a good driver. You'll probably be a World Champion one day.''
''You really mean that?'' Her usual confident demeanour had been traded in for an insecure one, her voice coming out smaller than normal.
He chuckled, nodding his head. ''Of course, I wouldn't lie to you.'' The gentle way he was looking at her assured her that he was in fact being serious and meant everything he said.
''Thank you,'' Y/N turned her hand and squeezed Lando's, ''now, shut up and drive me to the hotel!'' She pushed his hand away. ''Enough of this emo shit.''
''This is the one time I am being nice to you and you just reject my love.''
''Stop being so emotional, Norris.''
''There she is!'' Daniel loudly announced as Y/N stepped onto the plane, his hands up in the air.
She tiredly waved at everyone, exhausted from the lack of sleep she had gotten. The young woman groggily sat down next to her Australian colleague, Michael sitting in front of them.
Daniel snickered at her disoriented state. ''Good morning to you, mate.'' He greeted her, his infamous bright smile on his face.
''It's fucking early, what are you so happy about?'' She mumbled, while trying to find a good sleeping position.
''I'm grateful that I get to live another beautiful day, Y/N! We don't appreciate our existence enough, we need to-''
''I'll be grateful for my life when you shut up and let me sleep.'' She interrupted him, closing her eyes and pulling her hat slightly over her face.
The McLaren driver opted for another teasing comment, but he could see the obvious exhaustion she had going on and let her be, a light pat on the shoulder working as his way to say ''have a good nap''.
About an hour later the turbulence of the plane woke her up from her much needed sleep. Y/N took her hat off and noticed Daniel still awake, scrolling on his phone while listening to music through his headphones.
A soft push against his arm brought his attention from his device to the woman next to him, immediately smiling upon seeing that she's awake. ''Sleepyhead.''
The beam on his face slowly changed into a nervous frown, worrying his friend. ''What is it? The reality of life finally settled in?'' Y/N awkwardly said, trying to cheer him up.
''No, uh, it's just that uhm interview you did with Nathalie yesterday- I watched it.'' He answered, sympathy written all over his face.
''Oh,'' she sat up straight in her seat, ''well, you know it was just after the race so obviously I was very frustrated. You know how it is.'' The driver tried to come off as nonchalant, failing horribly.
''Lando told me, Y/N.'' Daniel revealed, wanting her to drop the 'it's not a big deal'-act.
She sighed. ''Oh, that little snake.'' She muttered under her breath.
''No, I'm glad that he told me. He said he's never seen you so defeated and the way you were talking to Nathalie- you haven't given up, have you?'' Daniel had seen how her recent race results had affected her, but he wasn't aware how deep her frustrations and insecurities had settled in.
Her silence to his question was an answer in itself.
''You've been working your ass off since you were like what? 5-6? You're not gonna throw all of that away just because of 3 bad races, right? That's nothing like you.'' The Australian ranted, baffled over her ruined confidence.
Y/N glanced outside her window, seeing they were high above the clouds. ''I'm not throwing anything away, it's just… my teams seems to have already made up their mind and are just waiting on the right time to tell me that someone else is taking my place.'' The young woman clarified, her words not helping Daniel's growing worries.
''They would be fucking idiots to replace you, you know that.'' He sneered, rolling his eyes at the thought of another person driving in her seat.
She weakly chuckled at his response, not finding much humour in the insult to her bosses.
Daniel's shoulder gently pushed against hers. ''Hey, maybe you need to talk to Seb or Lewis, they're better at this pep-talk shit than I am.'' He suggested, figuring the two older men might have more of an influence on her.
Y/N let his words process for a few seconds, considering seeking a listening ear in either of the world champions. ''I- I don't know, Dan. They probably have better things to do.''
''Like what?''
''I don't fucking know- planting trees, feeding Roscoe, whatever.'' She blurted out, making both of them laugh at the random activities they could be doing.
''Just think about it, I think you'd feel a lot better after talking to one of them.'' Daniel didn't want to push her, knowing it would have the opposite effect on what he wanted for her.
A tired smile made its way onto her face. ''I will, thank you.''
''Good,'' his face mirrored hers, ''and if they do replace you, they're just like Netflix.''
''Like Netflix?''
''A bunch of cunts.''
''I've never seen her that quiet.'' Sebastian mumbled to the Brit next to him, observing the young woman who sat slumped over in her chair.
Lewis looked over at her, being as equally bewildered as his German colleague. ''I don't blame her, all the stuff they've been saying about her is awful.'' He whispered back.
''What do you mean?'' Sebastian frowned.
The Mercedes driver uncomfortably shifted in his head, leaning more towards his friend. ''People have been saying a lot of shit on social media and those fucking annoying journalists certainly don't help. Also, that interview their team principal did.''
Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mention. ''Hanna showed me, that was so out of line. He knows people have been wanting her out since the day she got in- shame on him for making all of that so public.''
Her team principal had given a quite lengthy interview over the break between the race weekends, publicising the team's problems and their possible solutions, which included a hint to a potential driver change-up.
''None of the DNF's were even her fault, it's absolutely ridiculous.'' The slander on her name greatly upset Lewis, aware of the talent she possessed and it made him angry that there was even a chance that she might not be on the grid with them the next year.
''I know and it has taken such a toll on her, Daniel said he talked to her, but I'm a little worried.'' The Aston Martin driver told Lewis, his puzzled look turning into one of sadness.
The Brit scratched his voice. ''Maybe you can give her some confidence? You've known her for a long time, I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''
Sebastian slowly nodded his head, figuring the World Champion might be right. ''Yeah, I'll talk to her later.'' He confirmed, still watching the obvious daydreaming woman from across the room.
The driver's briefing went on for about half an hour more, the director seeing the visible boredom on every person's face and calling it a day for everyone.
Y/N couldn't have been more relieved that the meeting was finally over, wanting nothing more than going back to her own hospitality and figuring out ways to make the car work, and actually finish this time around.
She was one of the last people to leave the briefing room, only George, Lewis and Sebastian walking behind her. The latter tapping her shoulder. ''Hey, haven't talked to you today.''
''Yeah, lots of briefings with the team, you know.'' The younger one responded, giving him a quick glance.
''How's that going?''
The woman remained silent for a few moments, considering how much she should tell her mentor about the current state of her place in the team. ''Uhm, well, it's going… decent, I guess.'' Y/N muttered, trailing off.
''Decent?'' Sebastian repeated, as if asking ''are you serious?''
''There are like a bunch of reporters around us, what do you want me to say?'' She replied, a defensive tone to her voice.
The German patted her back, sensing her agitation. ''It's okay, let's discuss somewhere private.'' He calmed her down, suggesting a different place to have a conversation.
''Okay.''
They opted for her personal driver's home, that being the closest space where they could talk with just the two of them. Some of her team's staff had given the Aston Martin driver some weird looks while they walked through the hospitality, but he brushed them off.
The pair sat down on her small couch once they arrived, not much space between them.
Y/N felt some nerves settling in her stomach as she waited for Seb to start speaking, not knowing what he was going to tell her.
''I'm just gonna be straightforward,'' he started off, ''you can't continue with this attitude, cause you're only setting yourself up. You are a great driver, Y/N. We all have our off weeks, we're not perfect.''
''I understand that this isn't a nice situation to be in. Trust me, this green vegetable that I'm driving isn't doing much better at the moment,'' he chuckled, making her crack a smile, ''but if there's one person that can completely turn their season around, it's you.''
Y/N avoided eye-contact with him, not sure how to respond to his kind and encouraging words. ''I appreciate that, Seb. I'm not giving up, it's just… very difficult and people are constantly bringing it up, and making articles and shit- that doesn't help me at all. I'm still gonna do my best, but… yeah- it's just difficult.''
''I know it's hard and I've heard the media has been hard on you. That's what they do and they see you as an easier target for clicks and whatnot,'' Sebastian rolled his eyes at his own mention of the media, ''But you're better than believing their words.''
''You are a talented driver, you have so much potential. Do you think I would have spent all these years with you if I thought you shouldn't be in F1?'' He asked her, a look on his face that told her he wanted an answer.
The young woman timidly shook her head. ''No, you wouldn't have done that.''
Sebastian smiled at her response. ''See?'' He put his arm around her, pulling her closer into him. ''Whether you believe it or not, you're leading this new generation. You're a decent car away from being a World Champion, you know that right?''
''Did you talk to Lando? He also said that.'' Y/N nervously grinned.
''Just accept the truth!'' The German squeezed her shoulders. ''You've proven that you can do anything. You don't want to let down all those young girls that started karting because of you, right? What message would it send to all of them that their role model quit, because she got bumped off the road or her car simply decided to turn itself off.''
''You're right,'' she sighed, admitting to herself she needed to drop the pessimistic attitude, ''I don't just owe it to myself, but also to them.''
Sebastian nodded along to her words, letting out a deep breath. ''I'm relieved you're seeing it, I don't like seeing you like this. It's weird not seeing you smile or making fun of the drivers.'' He smirked, patting her shoulder.
''I guess everyone deserved an off-day, tomorrow I'll start again.'' Y/N grinned, laughing at Sebastian's reminder of her fondness to poke fun at their colleagues.
The senior driver gave her one last squeeze and stood up from the couch, adjusting his pants. ''No more frowns, alright? You're gonna do great this weekend and you're gonna show everyone why you deserve your seat.''
Y/N nodded, more confident than when she first walked back into her driver's room. ''Yes, I'm gonna do my best, Seb.''
They bumped their fists as if to solidify it was going to be a great race weekend for them both.
''And go easy on me tomorrow with the teasing.''
''I'd rather be run off the track again then let that happen.''
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#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#f1 x you#f1 oc#lando norris x you#daniel ricciardo x you#sebastian vettel x you#formula 1 fic#female f1 driver
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My Boyfriend
Itadori Yuuji x GN! Reader
Cw - GN! reader, you/yours pronouns, headcanon, established relationship, pet names (My love, Angel), a little bit of angst, fluff, Maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You and Yuji are different, you're cold and rude, while Yuji is the complete opposite.
Word count - 721
Everyone was surprised when they found out that you and Yuji were in a relationship, you are someone who is rude and cold while Yuji is the opposite. Some people cast worried glances at Itadori, fearing that he was being treated badly in the relationship.
- But little do they know that in private you're simply very gentle with Itadori, the target of harmless jokes from him.
"Angel, touch me, you know I love when you touch my hair." You say in a muffled voice, your head buried in Yuji's neck, with your arms around him in a tight hug.
"Ow, look at you, so needy you're almost begging." He says in a playful tone, taking a hand to your hair to play with it and stroke your scalp, receiving a snort in return. You quickly squeeze Itadori's side, tickling him. "Hey! Stop that-" Before he can finish speaking he is cut off by his own laughter, giggling wildly as he tries to get you to stop tickling him.
"Enough! Enough, please!" He begs after a while, you stop and give him a smug smile. "Sorry, I think it was you who was begging." With that he opens his mouth, a visible expression of shock, then cracks a smile. "Wow, who knew you had such a dirty trick up your sleeve."
"Be quiet and cuddle me for once." You bury your head in his neck and hug him tightly again, leaving him with no escape. He smiles and starts to play with your hair, so he also strokes your scalp, enjoying the moment.
- Well, apart from that, you're like a personal watchdog, always defending Itadori from negative comments or mean looks, trying to protect him from the malice of others.
Itadori is sometimes criticized mainly for being Sukuna's receptacle. Some Jujutsu sorcerers look at him differently, as if he were someone bad.
"Do you know who he is?" A girl asks her friend, pointing at Yuji. "Yes I do, be careful, he's Sukuna's vessel, better stay away from him." The boy says this, without noticing you approaching.
Your eyes narrow when you hear the boy's comment, and you stop in the middle of the path and walk towards him. When you get close to him, you touch him on the shoulder to get his attention, the boy turns around and is greeted by you. The look you give him is enough to let him and the girl know that they've said the wrong thing.
"Uh, hi." The girl says, catching your eye, only to be met with a cold stare. You both remain silent, while you clear your throat and look directly into the boy's eyes. "Look here boy, if I hear you saying anything more about my boyfriend you're screwed." With that, the boy swallows, knowing you're not joking, and the girl stands still in silence.
"Of course, I apologize for him, now we need to go." She says, pulling the boy by the arm and walking away, you look at them until they turn and disappear down the corridors.
Yuji finally notices you and calls out to you, smiling happily. "You took your time, I was getting worried." When you hear his words, a small smile appears on your face and you go to his side to sit down. "Sorry for the delay, I had to sort out some problems."
- And the main thing, when Itadori is feeling tired and exhausted from having so many responsibilities, you are there to help him. Always holding him and telling him how much you love him.
At this moment, Yuji is lying on top of you, his head buried in your neck, crying as he vents to you. "I'm so tired, it's so frustrating." He says through tears and sobs.
One of your hands caresses his back and the other plays with his hair. "Shhh, I know, my love, but you're doing your best." You kiss his hair and then let out a sigh. "You always do your best, I know that, I'm always very happy to have such a strong, beautiful and amazing boyfriend like you."
Hearing your words, Yuji cries even harder, hugging you tighter. "I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do without you." He lifts his head from your neck and begins to kiss your cheek.
Please don't translate my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
#ftm reader#male reader insert#male reader#anime x male reader#jjk x male reader#itadori x reader#gn reader#yuji x reader#jjk x gn!reader#gn!reader#male!reader
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There are many things that frustrate me with the writing of Annabeth in the PJO TV Show, but I think one thing that I haven’t seen people talk much about is the mini-arc of Percy needing to help Annabeth with her sense of fun/humanity.
Just so we’re clear, I absolutely hate this arc.
Prior to the show’s premiere, I believe there was a quote from Rick discussing new-ish things that we’d see in the show, and one of those things was Percy helping Annabeth “tap into her humanity”. I can’t find the exact quote, but it should be on the series update Twitter account if you search it.
When I first read this quote, I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant, but I thought maybe we’d get an expansion of the theme of forgiveness that we got in the original books, or maybe we’d get an arc about Annabeth’s pride and how that gets in the way of her relationships with others. Or maybe they’d try and break down the ways in which Annabeth helps to uphold the gods’ ways of doing things, and align her more with the mortal point of view (which they essentially did, but not the overall point).
What I certainly wasn’t expecting was for them to strip Annabeth of most, if not, all of her smaller/softer traits, and give her this unusually stoic and stiff personality, where she suddenly has no familiarity with casual aspects of the mortal world (movies, Disney world, common idioms), and needs Percy to introduce these concepts to her in an effort to “unlock” her humanity.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Words cannot emphasize enough how much I despise this arc. Not only is it entirely nonsensical for Annabeth not to be familiar with these things (she was with her dad at least until the age of 7 and she goes to a camp full of other children who are regularly in contact with the mortal world; do you seriously expect me to believe that at no point in her 12 years of life, she never saw a single film, heard of Disneyworld, or heard common idioms and slang terms from her camp-mates? Seriously???)
But ALSO!
Book!Annabeth had PLENTY of humanity to go around! Even with her pride and initial coldness towards Percy, she plays hackeysack with him and Grover on the first day of their quest! She has a cute silly crush/admiration/infatuation on Luke. She nerds out big time over the St. Louis Arch! She’s the first to steal clothing from Waterland! She screams and cries when she encounters the mechanical spiders! She has an expression of sadness when she shares her backstory about Thalia and Luke! She gets lost in her little construction game at the Lotus, so much so that Percy has to use her phobia to pull her out of the trance! She grabs Percy’s hand when they first enter the Underworld because she’s scared! She tears up when it’s time to leave Cerberus!
And you stripped her of all these things, because you’re so desperate to overemphasize the Percabeth romance, and you felt that it was absolutely necessary to have Percy educate Annabeth on “unlocking humanity”??? Why!!!!
Not only did Book!Percy help Annabeth discuss things about bad parents and approaching forgiveness, but Book!Percy already had something important to offer Annabeth: loyalty, trustworthiness, and reliability. You didn’t need to take away her already-present traits and wits to convince us that Percy was the type of person she needed in her life, because we can already see what he offers her in the books. So why oh why did you feel the need to give us the silly “tap into your humanity” arc? Why did you turn her personality into something that it wasn’t? Why did you take away her depth just so her character could better serve Percabeth?
I don’t even necessarily agree with the criticism that this version of Annabeth feels like it prioritizes Percabeth more, but I can see why people made that complaint. Y’all took away so much of what made this character endearing, because you felt like it was a much bigger priority to have Percy help her unlock humanity than to let her be human prior to meeting him and outside of him. Not only does her personality get shafted, but her relationships with other people get shafted too! Her interactions with Luke are affection-less, she sent Grover off on his own in the Lotus so she could go off with Percy, and I don’t even think that she and Chiron interacted once this season; I don’t even think she mentioned the part about her calling him to come pick her up after she attempted living at home again!
But don’t worry; we’ll get plenty of scenes doubling down and tripling down on how Percy is the center of her world now! Yay!
#rick riordan#annabeth chase#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo hoo toa#pjo series#pjo tv show#percabeth#pjo tv crit#anti pjo#anti percabeth
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The Gaang being 'bad parents' didn't ruin their characters.
I've seen this argument tossed around a couple times and it's honestly one of my least favourite criticisms of lok.
Katara (and Sokka but we have no confirmed kids for him, which seems unrealistic with how much game he had) lost their mother as children and their father was forced to abandon them when they were barely starting their teens. They were raised by their grandmother with little to no peers of their own age.
Aang did not know his parents and a huge chunk of his childhood was him being groomed into taking up the mantle of the avatar and mastering airbending. He also was isolated from other kids his age. His closest parental figure was Gyatso who was more of a teacher than a father. Also the Air Nomads were literally wiped out so that adds to the trauma pile.
I really don't think i have to talk about Zuko's family life here, but at least he had relatively positive parental figures in the form of Ursa (though i do have a burning personal dislike of ursa) and Iroh. Despite this his struggle around the subject of his family and his trauma relating to his upbringing was a focal point of his character arc.
Toph was raised in isolation by her asshole abelist parents who did not listen to her, sent people to capture and bring her back and then disowned her. (If my cursory understanding of 'the rift' is correct, I need to actually read it because i am unreasonably obsessed with the Beifong family.)
Where, pray tell, were they supposed to learn proper parenting skills? On their brief stint as child soldiers? While fighting a war as literal children?
There is the argument that they must've matured later in their lives, of course. But you can only recover so much from copious amounts of childhood trauma.
Being a bad parent doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. Sure it makes you a failure in an incredibly delicate and important aspect of human life but it doesn't make you a bad person. And saying that it does takes a lot of nuance out of the conversation.
Like, do you know how easy it is to fuck up a child?
Especially that the ways the members of the Gaang 'fucked up' as parents feel mostly in character.
Bumi was going to face some struggles with self worth due to being the firstborn child of the Avatar and arguably one of the most powerful waterbenders in history, while being a nonbender himself. That much was unavoidable, no matter how his parents approached the issue.
And Aang was obviously going to be over the moon when Tenzin was born. Think about it. He's literally the last of his people. He has no one else 'like him'. No one else to pass down the traditions, the teachings that Gyatso and everyone else he cared about and who were horrifically murdered to. Aang is getting older and he feels like his culture and history and his entire life before he got trapped in that damned iceberg will die along with him. And then Tenzin is born and Tenzin can take up the mantle that had been thrust upon Aang.
I'm going to withhold my judgement on Izumi and Zuko, since we barely know anything about them. She seems well adjusted but that's all i can say right now. But Zuko has also been shown to be extremely, painfully aware of how fucked up his family is and has clearly been putting in a lot of work to unscrew what his ancestors have screwed up.
Toph situation feels very tragic to me,because it's obvious that she thought she thought she was doing better than her parents. She gave her daughters the freedom to do what they want, to not feel opressed and trapped like she had. How was she supposed to know that she was making her girls feel like she didn't love them? (Here's another post of mine about the Beifong family and how they just feel like they're cursed or something at this point.)
TLDR; I get annoyed by people saying that the Gaang being 'bad parents' ruined their characters, because to me it felt like it actually enhanced them.
Neither Aang nor Toph acted out of malice or a lack of love. On the contrary, Toph was trying not to repeat her parents mistakes, accidentally committing a bunch of her own. While Aang probably didn't even realise that he was neglecting Kya and Bumi.
But just loving your children doesn't always make you a good parent.
I think these flaws only add to them as characters. It makes them feel more real.
It's unrealistic and, frankly, just plain boring to go 'oh the Gaang were all good people so they would be good parents too.'
The Gaang were a gaggle of traumatised children forced into saving the world, because the adults around them failed them, that then grew into traumatised adults who have no idea how to be good parents.
#badly voicing my thoughts#avatar legend of korra#i know i did not write this out correctly but it is like 3 am and i am tired and mad and stressed#avatar#avatar: the last airbender#the last airbender#legend of korra#aang#avatar aang#katara#sokka#toph#toph beifong#zuko#ursa#iroh#bumi ii#kya ii#tenzin#firelord izumi#lin beifong#suyin beifong#the beifong family#the beifongs#wow look at all these traumatised people
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I want a really specific Luffy/Sanji/Zoro fic where it's focused on how Zoro is probably not able to be numbed or knocked out.
I want to do a post at some point about how Nami, Usopp and Zoro are the humans of the crew. The ones without devilfruits, no genetic stuff, and completely human.
You can absolutely argue that Zoro has whatever the fuck is going on with the demon stuff but until that's clearly discussed I'm going with the human thing.
Back to Luffy/Sanji/Zoro.
I'm really sold on the idea that Zoro burns through numbing and pain medications like it's nothing.
He can be knocked out or made completely numb but it requires a unreal amount of medication, enough that the amount is usually unavailable or risks overdosing him and making him very sick.
So, how many times has Chopper had to dig out shrapnel and bullets while Zoro was completely aware and felt everything?
Or stitched him up while Zoro held the skin together for him?
How many times has Chopper had to rebreak bones that had healed wrong if they were separated for a period of time and Zoro didn't set it right?
How about cauterizing wounds?
Concussions?
Blood loss?
What it he needed surgery because of a wound, and Chopper had to cut into him without being able to numb him at all?
Oooooof
I fully believe Chopper has had to do some of those. However, when Zoro is too out of it, or it hurts to much to not jerk away or fight back... I think Luffy and Sanji would have to hold him down. The only two with enough strength to get him still enough that Chopper can do what needs to be done without worry.
Robin could be added to that, I think. I like to think Zoro and her have a strong friendship and she's seen enough shit to know sometimes things have to be done even though it sucks.
What sounds does someone make in a situation like that? How much can the human body take?
If he was out of it enough, would he plead with Luffy to let him up? He would absolutely call for Luffy when everything hurts and I'll die on that hill.
It would be a blessing if he passed out but how long would he be passed out? Just long enough for everyone to breathe before he was awake again and struggling?
Is it worse when he's quiet? Awake but so exhausted he can't even try to jerk away?
The rest of the crew hearing everything but knowing better than to go try to help.
Having to act like they can't all hear anything and desperately hoping that Zoro passes out soon.
And Zoro is Zoro. No one really talks about it. They're all aware, of course, but Zoro never brings it up or complains.
He's actually really good at holding still, clenching his jaw and curling his lip back in a pained snarl. Every muscle in his body tense and his back in a rigid arch.
This isn't new to him. He's always burned through this stuff quick but it's definitely gotten worse as he's gotten older and stronger.
Luffy and Sanji only have to hold him down for the really bad ones. It's more of a precaution, a comfort of all of them.
They're the only ones to hold him because even blind with pain, Zoro knows them.
Even when his world narrows down to hurthurthurt, he won't fight them the way he would someone else. He trusts them to be strong enough that he can be a little weak if needed. Only a little.
Luffy being cautious and untrusting of anyone other than crew while Zoro recovers and gets his feet back under him.
Possessive and protective in the way all captains are. A extra edge to it because it's Zoro and Zoro is his in a way no one else quite is.
Sanji hovering, always something in his hands because his way of caring is food. The pain usually takes away Zoro's appetite but it's the best way Sanji knows to heal.
Luffy curled around Zoro when he naps on deck or when they go to sleep at night, trying to make sure nothing hurts and reassure them both that Zoro's okay.
Both of them running a critical eyes over Zoro because infection is a whole beast of its own. They want to make sure that if there's even a hint of one, they catch it as soon as possible.
Touching Zoro constantly because if they feel tense muscles they know he's hurting and if he's running a fever they can work on cooling it down.
🌊
The strawhat crew holds a grudge against a few people. Most of them obvious but always at the top is Garp, Blackbeard, Judge, and Mihawk.
Because they don't know exactly what went on while they were all separated for 2 years but they hold Mihawk accountable for Zoro's eye, even if he wasn't the one behind that particular scar.
They know Zoro felt all of it and they weren't there with him. And anyone who is responsible for that kind of pain to one of the crew goes right on the shit list.
#i just like monster trio and the tag on ao3 for them is so smol ☹️#one piece#zoro#sanji#luffy#zosan#zolu#zolusan#monster trio#tony tony chopper#strawhats#mugiwarapirates#straw hat pirates#mugiwara crew#setting sail with greyskyflowers
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The way some people talk about “misogynistic writing” with the female genshin archons—specifically Nahida & Furina— kills me a bit, because while i do feel there’s valid criticisms of genshin’s writing to be made (especially regarding Ei, who I do feel was done a massive disservice writing wise), often I see people seem to come from a place of not understanding the writing/characters well, and/or leaning into like…very reductive ideas of what makes a female character “good” that honestly says more about their biases than Genshin’s
For example, a common complaint I see against Nahida & Furina is about them being made to be “weak/unserious” and how this is bad writing because genshin is unwilling to take their characters seriously—but the way this is argued seems to suggest Furina & Nahida would be better characters if they were more physically powerful, mature, or “cooler” in some way. But I really dislike the notion of girlbossification being seen as the one standard of good writing for women. A girl being strong and independent and able to punch things really hard isn’t a marker of inherent good writing
Nahida and Furina not being physically powerful or completely sure of themselves is the point. Their lack of life-experience-based maturity and overpowering physical strength are intentional and points of strength for their character writing, not flaws or weaknesses:
Nahida is the God of Wisdom—her primary source of strength is her intelligence, which comes from her curiosity about the world that is intrinsically linked to her being very caring by nature. The reason Nahida is at a disadvantage in physical strength with the antagonists—Scaramouche and Dottore—and doesn’t have an epic moment where she brute force overpowers them, isn’t because Genshin is treating Nahida like an incompetent joke, it’s because her character highlights the overall theme in Sumeru’s AQ that power isn’t everything and strength/wisdom comes from many places.
She outsmarts both Scaramouche and Dottore through her ability to strategize—if you’re trying to sell Nahida as a character who embodies wisdom, it’s far stronger writing wise to have her use her wisdom and mind to overcome narrative conflict than have her be all powerful. If you don’t think Nahida revealing she’s trapped Scaramouche in a dream loop after he tries to rip her gnosis from her, or her standing her ground against Dottore and forcing him to bargain with her when he attempts to intimidate her into giving him what he wants doesn’t make her “cool” or interesting….idk ! Maybe it’s not the writing and just your personal preference for character appeal
Furina —without getting too deep into 4.2 spoilers—has an arc revolving around the loneliness & conflict of needing to mold yourself into a performance for a greater purpose, and grappling with personal identity and autonomy in the aftermath of performance and repression shaping your life. I really don’t understand how people watch how she’s handled and come away with the conclusion her character gets bent around Nuevillette’s man pain/the fact he’s just so ~much more competent than her unless you’re just really not interested in trying to engage Furina’s writing or taking it in confusingly bad faith
Her struggling with lacking the physical power/competence a god “should” have is, again, the point of her character and they are very clear where that lack of ability comes from within the writing. Her narrative actions follow an arc that revolves around this internal conflict she has—she feels very established to be her own person and they certainty don’t shy away from expanding on Furina’s emotions without it only being done as footing for other (male) characters
I think Nahida & Furina were just not what people were expecting the Dendro & Hydro Archon to be like, I also see a lot of complaints that neither of them “act like gods” or “seem very godlike” but see, in my opinion, one of the central themes to genshin overall is to examine the relationship between humanity and the divine. Part of this also includes calling into question what a god should be, especially in relation to humans/having a sense of humanity
The center conflict within Nahida & Furina’s characters is that their sense of humanity is at odds with being held to what being a god “should” be. Nahida is imprisoned by the Sages who treat her with disdain for being a child and not being inhumanly perfect enough to be useful to them as a deity. We see Furina try to engage with her people earnestly in a more human way before realizing she needs to put up the performance that proceeds to shape her life & state of deep loneliness for the next 500 years to be taken seriously and fulfill her duties. You aren’t supposed to look at Nahida or Furina and think they’re all powerful otherworldly divine beings. You’re supposed to view the, as people—people who are young and inexperienced regarding their position in life. Venti and Zhongli act like people in the same way—the only difference is they have more experience and have had the time to accomplish more feats as original members as the Seven
Again, it’s not that I don’t think there’s criticisms to be made. Genshin to me sets up Ei to be a character who requires a lot of self reflection/growth and thought with handling her moral dubiousness, and then out of desperately worrying she won’t be likable enough, seems to bend over with trying to insist on Ei being palpably appealing while not following through on a lot of what her character really needs to feel well handled. (I feel they barely even address Ei needing to rebuild trust with her people and it’s only more clear when you now see Furina spend a lot of time handling something similar despite doing less um, government oppression thsn Ei did for instance HDJNDJDJ. But I guess me pinning where my personal dissatisfaction with her writing comes from is another post in of its own and more based in general issues with Inazuma vs viewing it as misogynistic writing alone) The trend of not letting a female character grapple with her morality and try to push her being livable at the expense of addressing her complexity does honestly feel it falls into a misogynistic writing trends. I am really bummed out with Ei’s execution when genshin has proven through other characters along with Nahida and Furina they are capable of handling a character like her writing wise imo
But I really think, again, if someone thinks none of genshin’s women are engaging or interesting, or that Nahida and Furina aren’t taken seriously enough narratively while seeming to not really understand the intent of the characters’ writing, or want to take them seriously unless they’re cool/girlboss-y enough, I feel it may say more about their ideas of handling women in fiction than it does about genshin. I get personal preferences and not being really into a character, but people so frequently frame it as a possibly misogyny pattern with how genshin writes the female archons and I can’t help but disagree. I think sometimes people don’t consider what the story is trying to say with the characters vs what they think is cool or want (and of course what we all think is cool or may want/expect narratively is always informed by our own biases). There’s a level of subjectivity in how you can interpret writing and narratives of course but they’re just not interpretations I feel fit into what’s presented in the text !
#fern.txt#nahida#furina#Genshin#archons#THEY DONT GET MY GIRLS GUYS#fandomferns#slight 4.2 spoilers for thr furina bits#I keep it mostly vague tho#smh it’s not like I see genshins writing as the holy grail but sometimes I think it’s solid#I enjoy nahida and furina a lot and feel people just don’t get it a lot#and yeah some of the ways ppl don’t get it…does feel kind of like. damn. misogyny.png#which especially kills me a bit when it’s funneled through a lens of insisting their issues w the chars r bc of sexist writing
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hi! saw that youre taking requests! could i have a theo x slytherin reader, where they both dislike eachother but are part of the same friend group, so pansy locks them up somewhere?
Not Him | t.n
pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: Theo and you have a strong dislike towards each other which results in you guys arguing about everything. Your friends get tired of your constant arguing and decide to do something about it.
warning: Its not really slytherin reader but they are friends with the slytherin group,bickering and years of unresolved tension(but not for long;), mentions of firewhiskey
words: 1.3k
taglist: @dvarlinggg @bellysbeach @clioscauseforconcernbylovejoy
a/n: here you go!!! it's my first one shot so I hope you like it. I hope I did the request justice! criticism is very much welcome and my requests are open!!
"No, that's wrong! Obviously, Slytherin is gonna win against Gryffindor!"
"Nott, you and I both know that Gryffindor beat the Ravenclaws, all i'm saying is that they're good"
"Not better than us."
"Well... you nearly lost against Hufflepuff"
"Yeah, nearly-"
"OKAY, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU TWO," Pansy exclaims while stomping towards you and Theodore. Her face twists in anger and annoyance as she starts waving her hands around, "Do you two not know how to have a single conversation without arguing?!"
"Yes actually I do, however, I'm not so sure about l/n," Theodore smirks and looks at you in a cocky manner.
"Watch it, Nott, I'm sure you've never been taught manners," you say as you flick your hair back and lean back with a glare.
Pansy watches the whole interaction and realises that something must be done. Then she gets it. One brilliant idea.
She turns towards the rest of the group and loudly announces, "My dorm, 10 o'clock, bring drinks and snacks." She then walks off with a smirk on her face.
"What is she planning?" Mattheo groans.
☆☆☆
You're in your dorm thinking about what to wear to Pansy's little get-together. Theodore's going to be there... oh how you hate him, with a raging passion. His cocky attitude and dumb opinions. You hated how he had to argue with every statement you made and how he would tease your every action. You hated his perfect hair and his heavenly eyes. You hated how he made you feel, the butterflies you felt in your stomach whenever you argued and the hotness your face felt when he leaned in to state his point.
Were you ever going to tell anyone how you felt? No. Were you ever going to admit your feelings to him? Hell no. He definitely didn't feel anything towards you and you weren't going to embarrass yourself, especially not in front of him.
Just then Pansy bursts into your room without a care in the world. "Sure Pansy you can come in, thanks for asking" you say sarcastically.
"Boooo whatever. There's a more important discussion that we need to have."
"And what is that?"
"That thing you and Theo have going on."
You face scrunches in confusion, "What are you talking about?"
"You sooooo have something for him and he has something for you and you guys need to sort it out because the rest of us are getting tired of it," she states as she goes to your wardrobe and picks some stuff out for you to wear.
"Wait- what- no- what? I don't have a thing for Theo, I mean he's attractive but his personality ruins that. He gets on my nerves" you stutter as you walk towards your bed and grab the clothes Pansy threw on it.
Pansy stares at you dumbfounded, "Whenever you argue and he turns around you get a dumb lovesick smile on your face. Also, his personality isn't bad, he's the one who gave you that book you were so excited about receiving on your birthday."
You stop in your tracks and turn around. "THAT WAS HIM?" You remember receiving that gift, it just appeared on your bed with no note from the giver. It was a book that you picked up on a trip to the bookshop at Hogsmeade however you didn't end up getting it. Theodore was there but he was busy picking up his own books and arguing about some book that you both had read. You didn't realise that he noticed you put it down after realising that you forgot your money in your dorm.
"Yes that was him, and he's done so many other things that you've failed to notice but I digress. Put on your outfit and hurry up, it's nearly 10." She gives you a kiss on the cheek and, after dropping all that information, leaves the room.
☆☆☆
You enter Pansy's dorm and are immediately greeted with the smell of firewhiskey and the sound of music. Lorenzo appears next to you and throws his arm over your shoulder, "Hey! Come on everyone is waiting for you!" He leads you to everyone sitting on the floor and everyone greets you except Theodore who looks at you up and down his eyes clouded with a feeling you have no time to decipher as Pansy pulls you to floor and stands up to announce something.
"Let's play a game" groans are heard from some of the boys " I suggest seven minutes in heaven!"
"Well since your hosting Pans then i guess we've got to," Blaise sighs
"Absolutely right, Blaise," she says as she grabs an empty firewhiskey bottle and puts it in the middle of the circle. She sits beside Draco and flicks her wand to spin the bottle. The only sound in the room was the bottle against the ground, everyone was holding their breath in anticipation.
The bottle slows down and points at... you and Theodore. All the other boys start howling and you look up and see Theodore already looking at you. Your breath catches and your stomach turns as he looks at you with mixed feelings. One specific feeling being longing.
"Fuck," you mutter, trying to find a way out of this situation.
"Something wrong, princess" he smirks while standing up and heading to Pansy's closet. You sigh dreading what was to come but knowing there was no way out. Getting up, you walk past Pansy and send her a glare while she just laughs at you.
You walk into the cramped closet and see Theo looking a little nervous while squashed, which makes you giggle a little. He notices you and immediately removes any emotion on his face and puts on a smug look. You hesitantly sit opposite Theo, knees touching due to the lack of space in the closet.
"I don't even know what they expect us to do," you say.
"Kiss maybe," he says lowly yet holds eye contact with you.
"In their dreams maybe," you scoff yet your heart beats faster and you look away from his searing eye contact. You start picking at your nails but suddenly a hand covers yours, making you look up at Theo's hypnotising eyes.
"Maybe not," he looks down from your eyes and glances at your lips.
"Theo..."
"Don't tell me that you don't want this to," he whispers your name.
"I... I do" you look at his soft, pink lips and move slightly closer and he does the same thing.
"Good," and then his lips crashes into yours as he pulls you into his lap. Your fingers run through his hair as quiet moans and whimpers are released by the both of you.
He releases your lips from his captivating touch and pants out, "God, do you know how long I've wanted to do that."
"Oh shut up," you blush as you pull him back into the kiss. His hands move all over and come to a rest on your hips to pull you closer. You bite on his bottom lip which he lets out a groan to.
Unaware of the time that has passed a loud banging on the door pulled you two apart quickly. The door then opened showing the grinning group.
"What happened here?" Pansy said knowingly, elbowing the unfortunate person next to her which happened to be Enzo.
"Piss off, Pansy," Theo said sticking his hand out to help you up which you gratefully accepted after he had stood up and dusted his trousers off.
"Now Theo personally I think you should thank me," Pansy laughs.
Theodore walks by her with a blushing face and you in hand who is equally as flustered. "We're leaving."
#my first one shot!!#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#harry potter#slytherin boys#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott imagine#theo nott x you
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hbomberguy posted a video and i have opinions about it
i never made the active choice to stop watching James Somerton's content but when i stopped having a job that'd let me listen to videos for hours straight, I slowly became interested in other creators. i remember finding a couple of his videos contradictory in their analysis and do remember being annoyed by the "white women/teenager girls" comments a lot. oh yeah and that TELOS PICTURES ALWAYS REEKED OF A SCAM. Hearing James describe himself as a business major first in the pitch video weirded me the hell out. I feel like not enough people are talking about this particular part of the story but the man crowdfunded $60k USD and has produced nothing but stock image posters in return after years.
this man saw his community as nothing but to steal from and profit off of and clearly sees himself above those voices he robs. the point in the video that broke me was right in the beginning in the james half was the Mulan section. the tactic of erasing Jes Tom's words and passing it off as a personal observation of the community instantly reminded me of all the times James has confidently talked on the experiences of trans, nb and all queer people of color throughout his career and the fucking similarity of the language. that moment made me pause and scream. it instantly put into scale that this wasn't just one of the first video essays he'd ever made, it was EVERYTHING.
I want to pretend the queer media I see is made from a place of genuine care of the community, all of us do. but we as a collective need to stop catering to the consumption of content sludge. we need to be more critical and more aware. any time james mispronounced a character or place's name, i would always brush it off as a bad voice take kept in because of the videos' length that wasn't fixed in production. no, that was because james didn't care enough to learn the principle facts of the topics he was covering. (him spelling "shonan" in that AoT script made lose it). he wanted our ad revenue and your patreon money and by stealing the work of actually talented queer people, he basically won.
hbomberguy, lovely chaos bisexual, did a service to our community by making sure millenial and zoomer queers will never let this mf try to grift his way into the entertainment industry again. i have more to say about this video, especially illuminaughii bc she's an especially abusive and toxic person who i also watched a fuck ton at my old job. i certainly need be a bit better about where i get my info from, especially if i'm going to be repeating it to someone else. in the age of tiktok and the speed of misinfo there being insane, i just beg us young queers to think a bit more critically before we post.
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49
It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺
The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.
Word Count: 7,225
Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.
She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.
On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.
Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.
Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.
“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”
She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”
Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.
She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”
“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”
How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.
But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.
He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.
She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.
His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”
Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”
She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”
Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”
This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”
He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.
Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.
Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”
He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”
This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.
Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.
Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”
He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”
She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”
Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.
Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.
Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”
Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.
Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.
He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”
“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”
He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.
“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”
His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”
He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”
Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.
His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”
Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”
She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”
“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.
“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.
Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
She grinned. “You spoil me.”
He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.
But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.
All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.
“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.
She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”
Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”
The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.
“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.
Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”
Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.
But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.
No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.
Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.
Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.
More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.
“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”
Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t.
~~~~~
Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.
Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.
Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.
It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.
“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.
He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.
“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”
Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.
Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”
But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.
His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.
Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.
“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.
She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.
He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”
Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.
Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” Elain growled.
That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”
“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.
Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”
His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.
Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”
He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”
She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”
“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”
Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”
He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”
She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”
“In the car,” he confirmed.
“Kaden’s overnight bag?”
“In the car.”
“The car seats for the twins?”
He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”
Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.
Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”
And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.
Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”
Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”
His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.
A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.
She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”
He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.
But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”
Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.
After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.
Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.
They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.
Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.
“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.
The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”
He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”
She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.
Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.
Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
And so, they waited.
Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.
He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.
Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.
Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”
Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.
Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.
But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.
His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.
“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.
“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.
He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”
Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.
The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”
Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.
They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.
Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.
The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.
Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.
Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.
“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.
He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.
“Suction,” Chen ordered.
“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”
“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.
So, he did what any father would do.
He prayed.
He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”
Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.
His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”
And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.
Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.
“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”
His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.
She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.
The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.
Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.
He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.
~~~~~
Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.
“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.
Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.
Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.
She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”
He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.
Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.
Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.
It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.
Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.
She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.
Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.
Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.
“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.
He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”
Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”
“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”
“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”
At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”
She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.
He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”
Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.
Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.
She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.
“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.
Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”
He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”
She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.
His head dipped in confirmation.
Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”
He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.
She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.
Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”
“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”
Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.
“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.
Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.
“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.
She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”
He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.
“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.
Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.
It put her on this very path.
She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.
“Perfect.”
She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.
“Your first family photo.”
Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”
He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”
“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”
“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”
Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”
His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”
“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.
They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.
Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~
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