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#these are my personal rankings (so you might not agree)!!
pochipop · 4 months
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#LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).
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#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .
#. characters! — rafayel.
#. warnings! — none .
#. word count! — 1.3k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
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Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)
You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.
“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”
You sigh.
“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”
“Call in sick.”
“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”
“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.
In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten. 
“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.
He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.
Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.
“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.
“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.
You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)
“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”
“You better,” he mutters.
“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”
You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.
“Be safe, okay?” He says.
“Always,” you nod.
Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.
His playful pout returns.
“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.
“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.
He sighs dramatically.
“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”
“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.
Rafayel rolls his eyes.
“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.
“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”
“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.
“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”
His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.
“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”
You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.
“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”
Rafayel gives a curt nod.
“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”
Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.
You play along and give him a mock salute.
“Yes sir, at once.”
Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.
“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”
You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.
You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.
As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.
“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”
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mactavishwritings · 1 year
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how would the 141 + konig and vaqueros react to reader (not part of the military,just a civvy) randomly having connections with a bid deal military person like someone on a higher rank💀 imagine them being "oh general ___? we had dinner at his house last week. i met him while I'm on a coffee run" or someone from 141 mentioning that they need something and reader is just like "hmm i might have someone for that"
this is so funny to me
ghost: he needed access to some computer data from a big law firm, but they refused to cooperate with him or the team. at dinner one night, you two were talking about your days when he mentioned his frustration with this law firm. “what firm is it?” you asked curiously and he told you it was a group called ‘Henson and co Law’. you started laughing and when he looked confused, you smiled. “i know their mom. i use to babysit them for her after their dad left the picture. let me see if i can get their mother to talk some sense into those brothers.” the next day, the law firm quickly gave ghost what he needed and asked him to give you their love.
soap: you two were laying in bed together, him having just return from a recon mission. “you know, this mission is being over complicated just because no one knows how to get into this gala. every time we try and get invites, they reject us!” he let out his frustration and you looked up from your book. “you talking about the Mason Gala? i can get you in. Helen Mason is my godmother!” soap immediately whipped his head towards you, desperately grabbing at your arm. “please doll! also your godmother is a multi millionaire?” you shook your head, getting your phone out to text the women and ended up securing the whole team and yourself tickets.
gaz: you two were on a facetime call while he was on a mission. the homecoming date kept being pushed back because one of the guys they were supposed to get intel from kept flaking. gaz was expressing his frustration with the whole thing when he mentioned a name to you that was super familiar. “wait a minute…you don’t mean Ben Klark? i went to high school with him!” you laughed when gaz lurched forward. “please tell me you still have contact with him! we need tech!” you nodded, grabbing your laptop to message him. the next day, three boxes showed up full with the Klark tech the team needed.
price: he hosted a bbq at your guy’s house every other weekend. you were bringing out trays of food to the boys at the backyard table. they were deep in work talk when you joined. “we just need to somehow get the Jacobsons sisters to agree to go undercover.” price shook his head, knowing the two girls would never agree. “you mean Vanessa and Amelia Jacobsons? their mom does my nails.” you mentioned causally, setting the tray of food in front of soap and gaz. “wait you know them?” price looked at you confused. “yeah the girls come into the shop whenever i’m in to gossip. i think i have Vanessa’s number. i can try and convince her if it’ll help.” you looked at the boys, confused as to why this was groundbreaking to them. the boys immediately started begging you to ask the girls and you giggled as you went back into the kitchen, grabbing your phone to text the two girls.
alejandro: you happened to be sitting in his office, waiting for him to take you to lunch when him and two other officers walked in. “what do you mean we don’t have a pilot? no one on this base can fly?” he sounded frustrated as the two officers shook their heads. “you need a pilot?” you asked, catching the three men’s attention. “why? do you know one?” one of the officers asked. “yeah my brother. he’s overseas in america but i’m sure he’ll be able to do it. he’s air force.” you grabbed your phone to text him. alejandro crouched in front of you, kissing your head. “you’re my favorite, did you know that? i’ll contact his C.O. and get him down here.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “you still owe me lunch.”
rudy: he was working in his home office when you entered, a plate of food in your hands. “rudy honey? you gotta eat.” you placed the plate down on top of the stack of papers he had buried his face into. “i will once i can get a reputable translator for when we go to russia in a few days.” he groaned, softly pushing the plate to the side. “i think i have a guy for that.” you pulled your phone out and started texting. rudy looked up at you, the look of hope in his eyes. “i’m desperate. everyone i reach out to is so sketchy.” he rubbed his eyes and you nodded. “Mikael Petrov. i studied with him in college. great guy.” you handed your phone to him with the contact pulled up. “you are a blessing.” he stood before kissing you gently.
könig: you were folding laundry in the family room when könig came home. he kicked his boots off before collapsing in his favorite chair next to you. “rough day?” you asked, not looking up from your task. “ja. everyone is busting my ass to find a hacker that can decode this transmission we intercepted.” you chuckled at the very militaristic sentence. “you could’ve just asked me baby. i know so many people.” you placed his pile of laundry on his lap before kissing his head. “you know someone? a hacker?” he looked concerned at first. “don’t ask. college roommate for all 4 years.” you laughed before getting your phone out. “Emila Davenport.” you gave him her number before taking the laundry basket full of clothes back upstairs to your room. “i’m gonna marry you someday, maus!” könig called out and you laughed loudly in return.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096
Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia
Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains
Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?
Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones
Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much
Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.
It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.
They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.
They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.
It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.
And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.
He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.
"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."
"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"
"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."
"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.
"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.
"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"
Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.
"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.
"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.
"Why?" Gregory asks mystified
"That's Bat's ex."
There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."
"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"
The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"
"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."
Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"
"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."
"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."
"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.
The boy tilted his head. "You know me."
Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."
"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."
"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.
"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"
Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.
"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.
"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.
"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.
"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.
"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."
"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.
"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"
"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"
Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.
Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.
When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.
What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.
"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."
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diedicontroversial · 1 month
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[discourse] in defiance of the author’s wishes (re: mxtx fandom)
table of contents : context  : moral arguments : addressing the legal side of things  : closing remarks
Context
on March 17, 2018, mxtx posted:
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“As long as you don't split or reverse the top/bottom positions of the main couple, I won't mind what you ship. I myself have a lot of fun shipping couples in mainstream shows, and isn't reading all about finding joy? You can imagine freely or ship whoever you like, just don't break up or reverse the top/bottom positions of the main couple.”
(I realise that the 不拆不逆 “no splitting or reversing” rule might be implicit within the entire Chinese danmei fandom, so i do not wish to single mxtx out. for example, i know that Chinese 2ha fans also go around policing people who ship, say, chu wanning with shi mei — so this isn’t just a mxtx thing. although i do not know if other danmei authors have explicitly stated “no splitting or reversing” since i have not been a part of other danmei fandoms.)
Nevertheless, “no splitting or reversing” became the constitution in Chinese mxtx fandom. Fans parade around with the slogan “拆逆死“ which means “kill yourself if you split or reverse”. Since the pronunciation of 拆逆死 (chai-ni-si) sounds like “chinese”, some fans on the Chinese internet have been putting “chinese” in their bios to mean “kill yourself if you split or reverse”.
From now on I will be referring to split/reverse ships as cult ships, as Chinese fans like to call them.
There are two main consequences of the “no splitting or reversing” rule (on the Chinese internet):
You will receive permanent bans with no option for appeal if you post cult ship fanworks in the novel communities on Weibo
It is implicitly agreed upon that you are not allowed to use individual character tags, the novel tag, or the author tag when posting cult ship content on any platform. So, for example, if you write Wei Wuxian x Jiang Cheng, you are not allowed to use #weiwuxian #jiangcheng #mdzs #mxtx. The name given to this conduct of tagging only your cult ship is 圈地自萌, which means “enclose a piece of land and amuse oneself within it”. You are not allowed to step out of your land. 
However, not everyone agrees with the practice of “don’t step out of your land” — this includes people from both sides of the debate. Some official shippers believe that cult shippers should not have any land to begin with, and purposefully leave the cult ship tag unblocked so they can police cult shippers at every opportunity. Some cult shippers believe that because their ship involves the individual characters, originate from the novel written by the author, they are in the right to use the individual character tags, the novel tag, and the author tag, and that people who dislike their ship should just use the block function. 
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Moral Arguments
There are two main types of moral arguments that Chinese official shippers make.
1. If you split the official ship, you condone cheating behaviour and that makes you a bad person.
The first argument is too trivial so I will leave the refutation as an exercise for the reader to do at home /j
2. You are not respecting the author's wishes and that makes you a bad person.
The author has wished many different things. For example:
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Screenshot 1 translation: I strictly forbid any crowdfunding or fundraising related to me, my works, or my characters, regardless of the purpose, whether it be for celebration, group buying, rankings, charity, or any other named activities.
Screenshot 2 translation: Once again, I emphasize: No new social media pages related to my works are allowed, nor organizing readers in a roundabout way, whether it be for celebrations, group buying, rankings, charity, or any other named activities. Please also refrain from flamboyantly organizing any collective birthday events.
Screenshot 3 translation: I've repeated many things many times and do not wish to repeat myself. Could everyone please just listen to my words occasionally.
(A brief aside before I address the second argument, something I used to say when debating Chinese fans: “I don’t think people who violate the author's wishes mean any disrespect. I don’t think they’re shipping or hosting charity events or birthday parties out of spite, but rather, it just so happens that the author prohibits a ship they enjoy or an event they organise. Just because I cult ship, for example, doesn’t mean I hate the author.” And they would respond: “if you really liked the author, you wouldn’t go against her wishes. You do not deserve to like the author. You are a mxtx anti.” And I would say, “I like my mom a lot, but I won’t listen to everything she says, simply because I don’t think everything she says is right. Plus, I don’t think the world can simply be explained by like vs. dislike. Also, Xie Lian said this: [For instance, if you admire or like someone, you won't always treat them well, no matter what happens.]” But then the most hilarious thing happened, in the revised version, a rebuttal for that scene was added:
【”For instance, if you admire or like someone, it doesn't mean you will always treat them well, regardless of what happens."
"Why not?" San Lang questioned. "If that's not possible, it only shows that this so-called 'liking' isn't anything significant."
Xie Lian shifted the conversation, asking, "Then... does it mean that aside from liking someone, the only other option is to dislike them? Are these the only two attitudes one can choose from?"
San Lang chuckled and retorted, "Why not? Right is right, wrong is wrong. To love is to love, to hate is to hate. Why can't things be clear and straightforward?”】
… ah.)
To address the second argument for real, i believe that producers retain no moral authority over the methods by which consumers engage with their products. for instance, i believe that choosing not to follow the official “twist, lick, and dunk” method when eating oreos does not constitute disrespect towards the oreo brand. Or to use another analogy, suppose a farmer selling apples insist that you peel the apples before eating them. I believe that it does not make you a bad person if you choose to eat the apples unpeeled, despite the farmer being the one who watered and harvested the apples from their trees.
I am thinking of potential counterarguments, and the strongest one I came up with is: “but products like oreos and apples are fundamentally different from intellectual property.” And I think the main issue here is that, to employ economics terminology, the content of novels like tgcf is a non-rivalrous good (not the novels themselves but the abstract content), which means that my consumption of it does not reduce availability to others. In other words, unlike Oreos or apples wherein after I purchase them, the specific items I bought are no longer physically in the hands of the vendor; after encountering characters like Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu still exists abstractly in MXTX’s head. This gives the illusion of ownership on the author’s part. I want to be very careful here because I think it’s easy to equivocate between different uses of the word “ownership”. I am not arguing that the author fails to retain ownership in negation of all the blood, sweat, and tears that went into the creative process, i.e. their copyright. Instead, I am contending that, just as I paid for my Oreos and apples, upon my purchasing of the Seven Seas version, the paperback Chinese version, and the revised uncensored version of TGCF on JJWXC, the author does not own the ways by which I choose to engage with these fictional entities. Once a work is made public, its ontology becomes independent of the author’s intent, and in all its readers’ heads exist distinct versions of the characters, in effect making them belong to all of us.
(There. As a bonus I have also resolved the issue of not being “chinese” enough. Ah, is this a bad place to make a communism joke?)
Addressing the legal side of things
In 2022 I wrote to the legal team at AO3, and here is their response:
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Regarding the “moral rights”, that’s actually a thing. Upon receiving lots of spam from 12-yr-old readers that “you are breaking the law”, I did a quick Baidu search (China’s Google) concerning the legality of splitting/reversing ships. Surprisingly, the search results yield “yes, it’s illegal”, and hence the 12-yr-olds' confidence. But that is akin to getting a cancer diagnosis from searching symptoms on Google. So I dug deeper. 
After reading tens of published papers and court cases, here are the key takeaways of what I found:
Given that intellectual property rights are a bit behind in China, they have largely based their laws on US copyright law. As organizations like OTW continue to fight for the rights of transformative works in the US, China probably will just follow suit.
The semantics of “distort, mutilate, or otherwise harm the integrity of their works in a way that harms the author’s reputation” is very vague and debatable. There are at least three ways to interpret it (I think one of the papers I read offered four). The first is that they only have to prove that you distorted the integrity of the work. The second is that you satisfy the condition of harming the author’s reputation. The third is that you satisfy both conditions (integrity of work and author’s reputation). It depends on the court. 
None of the court cases pertained to unserious, just-for-fun fan works. Usually what happens is someone makes a film out canon, for example, and sell it for profit, or someone publishes their own novel which contains characters from another published work. 
And that is for China only^ if you live outside of China, you are under another country's jurisdiction.
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Closing remarks
I am addressing this issue because it has impacted me and my friends in many ways. "kill yourself if you split/reverse the official ship" is probably the least of our concerns, mainly because it is such a popular phrase that we've become desensitized to it. @/Eleven receives private messages on Lofter on a weekly basis of people wishing her entire family to get murdered. A hualian main friend of mine has been posted to Weibo for following me; and I had to pull a Shi Qingxuan with "hey let's not be friends anymore if being associated with me is gonna get you cancelled".
mxtx has been through a lot and i understand where she's coming from. and maybe, the people who identify as "kill yourself if you split/reverse the official ship" don't truly mean it -- maybe they're just expressing their love for the official ship.
Recently i've been seeing the sentiments I used to only witness in Chinese fandom surface on Twitter and sometimes I worry that western mxtx fandom is going to turn into Chinese mxtx fandom, with the in-group/out-group mentality -- you're either with us or against us. At the end of the day, I do like mxtx, I admire her tenacity and I think she's a brilliant author, I love her works and the characters in them. I simply do not want to be backed into the corner of "anti" due to not following every order she gives.
祝墨香和她的粉丝们平安。
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threeletterslife · 2 years
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Hi Chanaaa! Idk if someone's asked this before but... OTP's from yoru stories?
i always have a different answer to this question! for some reason, my opinion on my characters' relationships changes over time LOL
just for fun, i'm gonna rank every single couple in my masterlist from best to worst :) (based on compatibility, soulmate-ability, overall romance, chemistry, their future etc.) - top ten are my ideal otps. top three are the for REALSIES otp
!SPOILER ALERTS!
1 - legends of darlaria (myg/jjk) lod is first for a lot of things on my blog. i'd say it wins best couple, highest wordcount, longest series, first two-member fic i've ever written, first explicitly magic-based story! as of yet, we haven't gotten to the meat of the romance, but the endgame couple is absolutely unstoppable. i don't think i've ever written two people more perfect for each other. they balance each other out in every way possible <3
2 - over the moon (myg) otm used to have the title of the #1 otp on my blog, but it's recently been bested by lod. the otm couple falls short in that their romantic journey is a lot shorter. lod's romance progression is much more natural (and takes years to become fruitful), while otm's romance can be interpreted as merely circumstantial. but otm still stands as #2 because the couple there—in my opinion—are SOULMATE MATERIAL. their chemistry, their dialogue, yoongi choosing OC over his "family??" i love these two together so much (and maybe because i'm biased since this is the type of romance that i would personally love to have)
3 - love yourself trilogy (pjm) before otm, ly tril was the #1 otp on my blog LOL. the couple has been through thick and thin. they've been tested by everything you can possibly think of in a modern couple: cheating, scary mothers-in-law, drifting apart, breakups, jealousy, etc. the only reason that they're now in third place is... well, the lod couple and otm couple have gone through objectively crazier challenges (a war??? the mafia???)
4 - sticky notes (myg) an absolutely BEAUTIFUL couple. however, while the top three otps are soulmates, i wouldn't go as far as to call these two that as well. but the reason that this couple ranks so high is that they're representational of a mellow but consistent romance. in their story, they also showed that they can bounce back from a fight! i think there's something beautiful about showing your love in other ways than spoken words. and though this couple hasn't gone through as much as the others below them in the rankings, their compatibility breaks traditional romance. they care for each other in unconventional ways, but it fits their styles. this is the biggest reason i ranked them higher than the ignis fatuus couple
5 - ignis fatuus (jjk) now this couple has been through shit. i mean, a zombie apocalypse? damn, could it get any worse? but throughout the course of the story, they evolved from simple acquaintances to close companions. though they never explicitly get into a relationship, if they did get into one, i'd see them going very far. it's not easy to care for someone at the level that they did during absolute fucking chaos. usually, in zombie apocalypse movies, it's every man for themselves. but they loved each other, and it showed in the way that they'd risk their life for each other
6 - (our very own) camaraderie (jjk) ideally, this couple would be placed higher than ignis fatuus. but they weren't placed in a life-or-death situation as the couple above were. and though their romance mostly blossomed when they were younger (high school), they showed emotional maturity by being able to console each other when distressed. and despite their rocky start, they grew into two amazingly compatible people! i think their chemistry is top-tier!!
7 - for everland (myg) another couple that's been through shit. their relationship was significantly shorter than the others', but they're still a formidable couple on my blog. definitely underrated. i think their romance is intriguing because it shows that love means you don't hang on. you learn to let go. you learn to take action to right the wrongs. the main character didn't even know what love was until she met yoongi! i think that's deserving to be in the top 10
8 - where the colors fade (jjk) i adore this couple. i wouldn't normally rank a uh, "doomed" relationship so high, but even after his death, OC remembers him, cherishes her memories with him—even though this all happened when they were much younger. i do believe they were soulmates to be but their time together got cut short
9 - into the spiritual realm (pjm) i think there's nothing more beautiful than two lost people coming together and becoming found LOL (as pretentious as that may sound). but in all seriousness, the itsr couple is steady, grounded, and i expect their relationship to last for literally ever. despite that, their ranking is on the lower side of top ten, because much more of the focus of itsr was on the main character's growth as a person. the romance was there, but not as powerful enough to be a top 5 otp
10 - a kiss to forever (myg) the last couple to steal the top ten spot! this couple is ~complicated~ and i feel like not everyone will agree with this placement. but i think the kind of love that they have for each other is slow, steady and growing. yoongi's supposedly dead; however, he becomes warmer, more amicable for OC. OC, on the other hand, goes through this journey of self-reflection. ultimately, they realize they belong with each other. and though OC's choice at the end is technically a depressing one, death is forever. and she chose eternity to be with yoongi. i think that's romantic. the only reason that they're in the last spot in the top ten (and not any higher) is that i can't help but doubt if OC would've made the same decision if she were older. maybe she was just in the slumps. what if she went to therapy, and began trying once again? i feel like that would totally change the tide. but then again, yoongi's boss did allude to the fact that they're practically soulmates
11 - the talent finder (jhs) another great couple! both have so much to grow and love and learn from each other. i love dynamic relationships, where each partner is able to grow into a better person because of the other. this is that relationship. they haven't been through immense tragedy or anything (why it missed top ten), but i find the start to their relationship pure and sweet. this is a couple that will definitely last
12 - our love like fibonacci (knj) now this is actual universe-given romance. it's ranked 12th and not higher because technically, i would argue that joon's not in love with the same person every time she reincarnates. her environment and upbringing mold her into a slightly different person every time. some versions of her have more chemistry with him than the others
13 - true love at first sight (jhs) this is similar to the talent finder, but the only reason that it's lower is that the learning curve is much steeper for the main character than it is for hoseok. they're still a beautiful relationship, and their love progresses very nicely, but i wouldn't guarantee that they would last. overall, their chemistry is lacking compared to the couples above them. hence, they didn't make top ten
14 - the exam (kth) i think that the romance here was cut short. it had so much potential!!! and though the period in which our two protagonists met wasn't that long, i think they'd make wonderful partners just by nature. then balance each other as well as complement each other. if their romance was a little longer, i would've ranked them higher
15 - propinquity (law of seesaw) (jjk) this is probably surprising. they broke up. yes, BUT somewhere inside of me thinks that they could still be a wonderful couple. the way that they resolved and compromised their conflicts!!! i'd say that they handled their issues better than some couples who are still together LOL. their chemistry is also undeniable. it's a shame that they decided that they were better off without each other. but they're both people who value their own freedom
16 - redefining destiny (jjk) interestingly enough, this isn't as high as you'd expect for an actual soulmate!au LOL. it's true that these two have literally fallen out of love to fall back in again... BUT, i personally don't think their chemistry was draw-joppingly good. i'm sure they'll get married, but i think they're just another average couple
17 - vernacular (knj) a romantic story. except... there's not really a future for the couple 💀
18 - across the madness (ksj) these two went through a LOT. (like literally.) but i'm not sure those experiences will change them completely. they might go on a couple of coffee dates and realize that they're not right for each other. their romance was most likely possible because they only had each other to lean on during their journey. but i could also be totally wrong. they could end up being endgame... however, the fact that i have to flip flop like this isn't quite a good sign. they're just a little too different
19 - on a cold summer day (ksj) the romance was there! it was, in fact, a relatively fluffy story. the only problem is, it reads as your typical college first dating experience. also, tinder
20 - the time traveler's playbook (kth) see, now this, i thought i would rank higher. but then i realized... there's not much actual romance at all. we just know that taehyung is very idealistic (hopeless romantic, if you will) and he's dead set on having his original wife come back alive. but how much does he really know about her anyway? the romance here just reads one-sided. it's mostly taehyung's journey—what lengths he will go through to find his love. and though they're also definitely a healthy couple, the couples above them have had much more screen time and better chemistry
21 - change of plans (ksj) one word: tinder
22 - lack of apathy (jhs) this is strange. the whole fic is about a horrible fight, yet they're not rated dead last. (but that's because the last few bottom spaces are reserved for the ~friends~ lol.) but i think the fact that they had this crazy fight shows that they care about each other. i think they would get back together and try again (and be successful!)
from 23 and below, there is little romance
23 - prescient (kth) the couple is together (and quite cute); however, their romance isn't centric to the story
24 - it runs wild (knj) they would not work out after the story ends LOL. but during the story, i would wholeheartedly believe in their romance. either that... or be suspicious if joon had ulterior motives
25 - of significant figures (knj) your average married couple
26 - whipped with a cherry on top (kth) a typical college romance. wouldn't exactly see it going too far
27 - insurrection (it's about time) (pjm) jimin idolized OC; OC never loved him back. however, they do still care about each other in a way that is beautiful. if not romantic love then friendship love.
28 - appetence (ksj) seokjin idolized OC; OC never loved him back. but it's worse than insurrection because they're both dead
29 - don't look back (ksj) seokjin idolized OC. OC did love him back. but their characters are too different. i don't see them working out. also, i'm not sure if OC really knows what love means
30 - fleeting forevers (pjm) there is a possibility of romance here, but i just think they're better friends
31 - resonance (kth) well... this was really just a schooltime "fling." logistically, it would not work out. unless taehyung sprouted legs
32 - cuss out (jjk) no way. i imagine that they'll go on one date and never see each other again
33 - tomorrow's another problem (knj) he was just acting 💀
34 - too young, too old (pjm) the imagination got too vivid in this one
35 - nothing a lil green can't fix (pjm) again, better off as friends! like they've 100% friendzoned each other. they are besties. they are meant to be this way
36 - all you see is blue (jjk) this "couple" is worse than fics like tyto and tomorrow's another problem because at least part of the feelings in those stories was really some version of love. but these two were only fond of the ideas of each other
37 - brevity (but most often not) (jhs) ... what romance?
38 - before the looking glass (jjk) there's nothing cuter than betrayal!
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wri0thesley · 7 months
Text
legally binding - neuvillette x reader (8.4k)
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monsieur neuvillette will ensure that he finds your brother not guilty at trial. for a price.
cw: not sfw, minors dni. DARK CONTENT. extremely dubious consent/non-consent. clothed neuvillette, naked reader. cunnilingus, threats of caning, blackmail, fingering, piv sex, coming inside. neuvillette refers to reader as "little one". reader is afab and is described using language such as 'breasts' and 'cunt'.
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“If the terms of our arrangement are not agreeable to you,” the honorary Iudex says to you, his gloved hands steepled before him as he sits calmly behind his desk, “you do, of course, have the right to say ‘no’ at any time. I shan’t hold it against you. It merely means that the particulars of our little entente need not be fulfilled on my end, either.” 
You press your lips together as frustration and anger war within you. You would like to explode at him; you would like to pull the books lining his office walls down and use them as projectiles to hit him straight in his infuriatingly calm and peaceful face. 
That he has the nerve to keep talking to you like this - his voice perfectly even, almost calm, his tone soothing and bordering on paternal (like you’re a little child who he’s telling the ways of the world to), when his proffered ‘agreement’ is so heinous . . .
“You’re utterly abhorrent,” you seethe to him, but the Iudex does not react to being called such a thing - merely tilts his head to one side.
“So you’ve said,” he agrees mildly. “But it does not change your position, does it?”
He is right in that. You stand there awkwardly for one moment more, debating if this is really the hill you are willing to die on; if you are indeed ready to trade away your dignity for the price of your brother’s freedom.
He seems to take pity on your floundering. 
“You agreed to this,” he reminds you, his tone unerringly gentle and patient. “But it does not mean you have to go through with it. I will keep the terms of our pact, my dear, as long as you uphold your own - but I will not hold it against you if you decide you are not . . . brave enough to follow through.”
You wince despite yourself at the deliberate emphasis of the word. You know that this is not bravery; you know, too, that what Monsieur Neuvillette is asking you to do is nothing short of corruption of the highest order. 
And too you know that the only person ranked higher than him you could conceivably go to is Lady Furina herself. 
“I’m sure that a guilty verdict for your brother would not be so bad,” Monsieur Neuvillette continues, and despite the mild tone he uses he must know that he is hitting you exactly where it hurts. “Incarceration is not the be-all and end-all, nowadays - why, many enjoy the Fortress so much they choose not to leave even once their sentence has been finished--”
“Don’t,” you squeak out, and Neuvillette stops speaking. You take a slow breath to steady yourself, and when your voice comes out this time it sounds far more certain than before. You’re proud of yourself, even, for the way that it quavers for only an instant at the end of your next sentence. “I’ll follow through on our agreement.”
“Lovely,” Neuvillette lowers his chin so that it rests atop of the steeple of his gloved fingertips. “I’m glad that you understand the position we’re both in. Well, then, shall we begin?”
You give him a jerky little nod, and he smiles at you like an Archon receiving a prayer of benediction. You stand there awkwardly for a moment more, before Neuvillette lets out a soft chuckle.
“Oh, you poor thing,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. “You really haven’t done any of this before, have you? Let me make it easier for you. Why don’t you disrobe and show me what you have on under your clothing, hmm?” 
You take a slow, calming breath. This is not so bad; you had known you would have to take off your clothes for this bargain. You suppose, if you had been a different kind of person, you might even have felt a thrill at the thought that it would be Monsieur Neuvillette who would be the first man to see you bared - but instead, there is just a cold thumping terror as you work at the buttons and catches of your outfit. 
You are dressed smartly but not prettily. You have never had much time for the fripperies that many Fontaine citizens prefer to indulge in - and especially for your meetings as a desperate petitioner with the Iudex, you had thought sombre was the way to go. This has carried through even to your undergarments - the chemise you wear is plain, without even a trimming of lace. Your brassiere is equally simple, as are the plain cotton bloomers that hide your most intimate place from his inquisitive eyes. 
You swallow as your thumb and forefingers fasten about the hem of your chemise - and then, thinking it better to rip off the bandage from the wound rather than pussyfoot about it, you pull it off and drop it in an unruly pile with the rest of your outer clothes by the Iudex’s desk. 
He sits there in silence for a moment that seems to stretch out for an hour.
“Not much for decoration, hmm?” He asks, after what seems like forever. You shift there awkwardly from foot to foot. You have never been looked at before like this by a man - and though you do not want him to find you attractive, the idea that he’s disappointed in what’s before him is equally horrible. He chuckles softly beneath your breath at the expression that must flit across your face. “Ah, please don’t mistake me as unappreciative. There is very little as lovely as simplicity, I find.” Your cheeks heat. “On that note - I think we ought to lose this layer too. Let me see you as nature intended, my dear.” 
You had thought that once the first layer of your clothing had been stripped, it would get easier, but you find now that it is much the opposite. Your hands tremble as you reach behind you for the clasp of your brassiere. It is cool in his office, but a bead of sweat rolls down the nape of your neck and sets your palm sticky and wet, and it takes you three attempts to unclip. 
You have never been shy before - you had certainly not been shy when you had barrelled up to the Iudex in public and demanded an audience with him, much to the distaste of all around him - but this is enough to make you feel awkward. 
The fabric falls away from the swell of your chest, and Monsieur Neuvillette makes a pleased little noise almost like a purr in the back of his throat.
“Ah,” he says. “Very nice. The underwear too, if you please.” 
Your nipples stiffen in the cool air of his office, the buds puckering and hardening under the twin problems of the temperature and Neuvillette’s stare. It is even harder to convince yourself to hook your thumbs into your underwear, but eventually your body agrees to your demands and you find yourself rolling the plain cotton down past your thighs and your knees and down to your ankles--
You fuss for a moment, putting them with the rest of your clothes, if only to delay the inevitable for a moment longer - that time when you will have to stand and display yourself in your full nakedness for the Iudex. But there is only so long you can conceivably push his patience, and sooner than you like you straighten your spine and try and jut your chin out and pretend that there isn’t a wash of humiliation drowning you as you wait for his next pronouncement. 
You’re surprised when he stands, leaving his cane leaning against his desk, and strides towards you with purpose writ clear in his eyes. Surprised enough that a soft, startled noise falls from your mouth as he reaches for you, and suddenly his gloved hands are palming the weight of your breasts. He lets out a slow, measured breath as his fingertips dig into the soft flesh there. You squeak again as his thumbs brush over the hard nubs of your nipples, and this time he laughs.
“Don’t be so surprised,” he murmurs. “Our agreement involved touching, did it not?”
“I-it involved more than touching,” you whisper, as poisonously as you can manage - but his thumbs are still slowly swirling about your nipples and the sensation of it is making you feel dizzy, little electric shocks of surprise zapping through your synapses. 
“Mm,” Neuvillette agrees. “But I am not so much of a villain that I would simply have my way with you without ensuring you were properly prepared, my dear.” 
You don’t know if this is worse, actually. If he had chosen the latter option, perhaps it would have been easier to close your eyes and grit your teeth and pretend to be somewhere else. But the way he is looking at you, the way he is touching you . . . those things make it far more difficult to separate what is going on from yourself. 
“I’m going to kiss you,” Neuvillette says to you - and you almost protest, until you remember the terms of the agreement once more. 
(“You will give yourself to me intimately,” Neuvillette had said. “I will have my fill of your body, and in return I will find your brother not guilty in court. Is this agreeable to you, little one?”
You had wanted to scream and shout and spit. It was certainly not agreeable to you; Neuvillette was a corrupt pervert, taking advantage of his position. How many other desperate petitioners had done this for him? 
“Oh,” Neuvillette had said, when you’d been unable to stop yourself biting out the last thing. “None at all. I’ve never been quite so intrigued by any of them or wanted to have any of them bent over my desk quite so much. I suppose that makes you special - and isn’t that nice?”)
You feel at his mercy like this, bare in his office, when he hasn’t so much as taken off his gloves - and indeed, the cool silk of those gloves against your heated cheek as he pulls you up into a kiss reminds you of who exactly has the power. He sighs softly into your mouth, teeth nipping at your lower lip. They’re sharp, and you gasp in surprise and win a low growl from Neuvillette himself. His kiss is wet and messy, and he seems almost disappointed when he pulls back from you with his eyes half-lidded. 
“Mm,” he says, “How many others have kissed you like that, little one?”
You press your lips together in a show of defiance, and he chuckles.
“As I thought,” he murmurs, lowering his head again - this time, the kiss he gives you is pressed to the top of your cheekbone. Slowly, carefully, peppered down your jawline. “Ah, don’t worry - you did perfectly well.”
You let out a noise of wordless disbelief and embarrassment that he could tell, which is quickly cut off when he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth instead. It is his canines that are sharp; you give a hot intake of breath at the scratch of them on your sensitive lobe that in turn makes him shudder. 
You hate the shivery feeling of pleasure that the bite sends zipping down your spine; a heat that settles firmly between your thighs, that mixes with the pounding of your heart. 
“Give in,” Neuvillette says softly. “You have no choice if you want me to uphold my word; you may as well enjoy it. I have no wish to be cruel to you, little one. If you like it too, so much the better.”
“I--I won’t--”
Your voice is reedy; it wobbles and shakes in the air. Both you and Neuvillette know that it is a stubborn and hopeless task, when his kisses and his tugging at your nipples and his soft nipping bites against your most vulnerable parts have already made a slick drip between your thighs you do not want to admit to. 
“A pity.” Neuvillette pulls back, and your body misses him - you find yourself making a soft noise of displeasure as his weight moves from in front of you and beside you, before he goes to stand beside his desk and takes his cane back into his hands, leaning on it almost casually. “Come here, little one. Bend over my desk.”
You flounder there, unsure now if you really are willing to go through with things the way that you had agreed to. Your throat feels dry. Disrobing had all been very well, letting him touch your chest had all been very well, but . . .
He taps his cane gently on the ground and makes a soft chiding noise with his tongue. 
“Come now, little one,” he murmurs, his voice perfectly agreeable. “It’s not so large a thing, is it? For the price of your brother’s reputation?”
You shake your head and take a slow, nervous step towards his desk - a large, terrifying presence in the room. How many people has he held the fates of in his hand as he sat here in the Palais Mermonia and read their files?
The reminder that you are indeed in the Palais Mermonia - that only down a hallway is a whole group of gestionnaires utterly unknowing of what their honourable Iudex is doing with the young citizen he has an appointment with - makes your heart beat faster, nervousness rise up in your throat like a tidal wave. One foot in front of the other.
You wish the walk to his desk was shorter at the same time as you wish that you would never make it to the end. 
It is not to be. Your bare hip bumps against the desk’s edge and you let out a slow, steadying breath. 
“That’s it,” Neuvillette says agreeably, and his cane taps on the ground as he comes to stand behind you. “Brace yourself on the table now; palms down. I’m not going to hurt you. Bend over and show me what I shall have the pleasure of conquering, hmm?”
You burn with humiliation as you do exactly what he asks; place your hot palms down directly upon the table and bend at the waist. Neuvillette sighs as if he’s terribly pleased with what he’s seeing. You start as you feel a gentle nudge against your bare ankle, and you realise that he’s touching you with his cane.
“Spread these apart a bit further,” he murmurs, and you comply despite the way you feel utterly debased by the treatment. “Ah. Very nice. Lovely, in fact.”
If you have one thing to be grateful for, it is that he does not mention what you both know; you are wet. The way he had touched and palmed at your chest, the kisses . . . you can feel the beads of slick on your inner thighs, the dampness of the folds of your cunt. The position he has put you in means, too, that you can feel the cool air on your exposed clit - the little button swollen and standing to attention. 
Neuvillette’s gloved hand gently comes to rest upon the back of your thigh. Slowly, slowly, he maps a path over your bared skin; the round curve of your ass where it’s presented to him, down and--
A hiccup of surprise escapes you and you almost rock back into him, but manage to stop yourself at the last moment, as those silken gloved fingers brush feather-light over the soft mound of your cunt. He does not press down yet; merely lets himself get accustomed to the shape of you. Your hips cant forward against your will as his fingertip brushes against the sensitive bud of your clit, a whimpering gasp falling from your lips. 
You have never been touched by anyone before - and the fact it is Monsieur Neuvillette doing it, under these circumstances--
You squeeze your eyes closed, willing yourself not to cry. You are grateful at least that he cannot see you; in fact, he seems rather preoccupied now, those long silken fingers spreading the plump lips of your labia further apart so that he can see your entrance.
“My,” he says, a smile apparent in his voice. “We’re going to have to do rather a lot of preparation, aren’t we? Sweet little thing, you look tight as a vice.” 
“I don’t . . .” You don’t understand quite what he means by preparation, but the soft rustle of his clothing still sets your teeth on edge. You’d known that he would disrobe too, of course you had, but it somehow all seems to be happening so quickly--
A strangled gasp escapes you.
The rustling was not him disrobing. Instead, he has knelt down - and his mouth is hot when he presses it to the sensitive places on the backs of your knees, his tongue wet as he trails it up the back of your thighs.
“Th-this isn’t what we agreed!” You say, panicked, as his mouth inches ever closer to the place between your thighs. Despite the heat of his tongue, the puffs of breath that escape him with his dry little laugh are cool. 
“Isn’t it, little one?” He murmurs, in between the wet kisses; you keen softly as he digs teeth into sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, fangs sending confused shockwaves of both pain and pleasure directly to your sex. “Let me see . . . Did I not use the terms ‘have my fill’? Why, little one - whyever did you think that would begin and end with my cock?” 
It’s too intimate. You have to be too present for it all, and the tears that have been threatening to spill out do so at the same time as his tongue oh-so-gently prods against your folds in interest. If Neuvillette notices that you’re crying, he doesn’t say anything - and you are grateful for that, as he presses his mouth fully against your cunt with a horrifically wanton wet noise and you realise that you are crying in no small part because his mouth against your heated core feels good. 
He merely mouths against you for a moment, his tongue delicate as it travels across your folds and drinks in your wetness. You shudder as he finds your clit, and his tongue flicks against it playfully. Despite what he had said about not having done this to any other desperate citizens, the way he works his mouth against you belies that he has at least some experience--
You know absolutely nothing about the Iudex’s private life, much like the rest of Fontaine. 
He pulls back from you to murmur against your thigh.
“You’re so wet, little one. It’s very charming. I think I shall use my mouth on you until you are glad to have the desk to keep you standing. It would be a hard-hearted creature indeed who would not want to feel you come on his face, under his tongue--”
You whimper out some kind of horribly embarrassing noise, as he returns hungrily to his former task; he licks at you and suckles at you like a man starved, and your body reacts with hot little shivers and shudders and jolts of pleasure. You make an attempt to curtail the pleasure - try to tell your body that it ought not to be enjoying this - but pure animal instinct wins out, and you are bent double over the desk whimpering helplessly, tilting your ass up to give him more room, and grinding your cunt into Neuvillette’s face despite all of it.
Neuvillette does not seem to mind at all. He groans into you instead, using the flat of his tongue to stroke as much of your cunt as possible, to work through your folds and suckle on your clit until your entire body feels aflame with strange new feelings. Every so often, he teases his tongue over your entrance, the tip circling the ring of muscle - but he does not push into it yet. 
His grip on your thighs is iron-tight. You don’t know when he let go of his cane, but both hands dig into the soft pudge of your inner thighs now, keeping you spread for him despite how the twists of pleasure make you want to squeeze your thighs together. 
You don’t know how you’re still breathing, as Neuvillette’s tongue continues to lay claim to you. You can feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing; slick accumulating around your entrance, just begging for something to be inside of you (though, in truth, you’ve never had anything more than your own finger and even then had felt hot and unsure of it). He growls, tongue flicking out against your clit in a rhythmic drumming that makes you whine.
“O-oh,” you manage, through the lump in your throat. “Archons--”
He gives your inner thigh a warning pinch, just enough to make you stutter, as he pulls his soaking wet mouth away from you and murmurs;
“No, little one. No archons here. Remember who it is, who's here with you.”
You are almost tempted to throw his own words back into his face; to tell him that you’d made no such bargain that you had to acknowledge that he was there. That, according to the legalities of the agreement you’d both made, you only had to let him use your body - not your voice, not your head, not your heart. But the lack of his mouth on you now feels like a peculiar kind of torture. You want him to stop. You want him to carry on. The whimper falls out of your mouth to a groaning purr of satisfaction from Neuvillette himself;
“M-monsieur--”
“That’s better.”
His mouth is back on you, hungrily working his tongue between your folds. Hungrily suckling and stroking and working you over until you feel hot and boneless, trembling on the edge of something - your entire body is a taut string, pulled to the point of snapping. Your cunt is wet and messy with drool and fluid and slick, sliding down your thighs - you cannot see Monsieur Neuvillette, but you’d wager that his cheeks are wet and shiny with the same, if only due to the utter eagerness he was still displaying. 
It’s too much. 
With a whine and pitiful jerk of your hips, you feel yourself slide down into some dark abyss; the thread that’s been threatening to snap finally does exactly as it was always going to do, and a wash of shameful pleasure crashes over you like a stormy sea. Neuvillette lets out a pleased groan as you feel yourself let another gush of arousal out, hungrily drinking you in with lewd, wet noises that have your face as hot as any Natlan springs. 
He carries on using his tongue on you; licking, sucking, lapping like a man parched for water - just to the point where your over-sensitive body begins to complain that you are still too raw for such hunger, and then he pulls his mouth off of you. You stay there, bent double over his table, wheezing softly as you hear him dust off his clothes and the click of his reclaimed cane as he comes around to the other side of the desk so that he can look you in the eye. 
He really hasn’t disrobed at all. 
It’s a callback to the power imbalance between you both; a reminder that, no matter what, you are entirely at Neuvillette’s mercy. You are glad, at least, that he has a reputation for being honourable in his agreements - you have only the very vaguest flutter of a fear that giving him your body will be for naught and he will go back on his word. Everybody knows that the Chief Justice values that same standard he is entitled to embody. 
“You were crying,” he says, leaning forward and cupping his hand about your cheek, a thumb sliding over the apple of your cheek. “It suits you. I’ve never quite understood this human urge not to cry - you look terribly pretty with those diamonds on your cheeks.”
He leans in closer and closer, closing his eyes - and you go stock-still as he kisses the tears from your cheeks and pulls back, licking his lips as if he is savouring the taste of something special. 
“I-is that all?” You ask, a hopeful tone to your voice - but Neuvillette simply smiles at you kindly, as if you’re silly for even asking. 
“Of course not, little one,” he murmurs. “That was merely a precursor to the main event, to ensure you’re . . . sufficiently ready. As I have already said; I am no villain, and I have no desire to hurt you physically. I want to ensure your body is primed to accept me, for the sake of both of our pleasure. And it was pleasurable, wasn’t it?” 
You press your lips together, hot shame rising up your neck.
“No need to get shy,” he says to you, that soft, kind smile not leaving his face. “By the way you were grinding against my face, and how prettily you came for me . . . Mm, I’d wager you enjoyed it very much. But it’s alright if you are not ready to admit it; your body doesn’t lie, sweet one, and I know it will accept my fingers and my cock far more readily than you’d like it to.”
. . . You had enjoyed it. You had felt that pleasure that he was so willing to give to you, and the thought that you were actually deriving some enjoyment from this thing that was supposed to merely be about procuring assistance for your brother . . . You don’t quite know how to feel, as Neuvillette presses a paternal kiss to your forehead and you hear the slow click of his footsteps as he returns to the other side of the desk, where your nakedness and your readiness for him are far more pronounced.
“You really are quite lovely, you know,” he murmurs, letting his gloved fingers slide down the arch of your back, from the nape of your neck and down your spine. “Ordinarily, I’m not too fond of ostentation - but ah, you . . . You could benefit from a little more ornamentation.”
A palm, cupping your ass - giving it a slow, considering squeeze, almost too hard to be painful but not quite. 
“This, for example,” he murmurs, “would be lovely with some discipline. Imagine; how pretty you would be with welts from my cane.”
“Monsieur Neuvillette--!” It comes out in a panicked little gasp, but Neuvillette merely chuckles.
“Now, now, little one - settle down. As sweet as it would be - I am still aware of the legal terms of our arrangement. I won’t force you to give me any extra - and whilst caning you would be terribly satisfying for me . . . it doesn’t count as satiating my desire in that legal sense that is so important to us both.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. Somewhere inside of you, your heart pounds at the thought of letting him do as he wishes with you - but you squash it down, holding to the comforting lie that you are getting absolutely nothing out of the arrangement you had made with Neuvillette. 
His hand curves over your ass and slips between your thighs.
“A-aren’t you even going to take your gloves off?” You seethe at him, through clenched teeth, as a fingertip slides between the plump lips of your sex once more, to find the wet mess that he had left there earlier. 
“I fear it would be most unprofessional of me to undress in my office,” he says, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Forgive me, little one. I think I will stay as entirely clothed as I am able.”
His tone does not broker any argument, and you bite your tongue as he - slowly, maddeningly slowly - slides his finger through the valley of your cunt, approaching your clit with a near-torturous pace. Your breath stutters in your chest as his silk-gloved finger finally brushes over the delicate nub, and he increases his pressure from feather-light to something firmer as he begins to make slow, small circles on the pleasure point.
Your hips don’t know whether to shy away from the certainty of his manipulations or to lean into them, so you do the only thing you can think of and let loose a soft whine into the charged air of his office. 
After he has played with your swollen clit for a few more agonising moments, his fingers drag back through the soaking wet valley to toy with your entrance. You feel yourself flex as he comes near, as if your cunt is begging him to finally put something inside of you - and though he gives a soft chuckle, he does not tease you any further.
“I’m going to put a finger inside of you now,” he murmurs - again, you are not sure if it would be worse if he had not told you. With this knowledge, you have just enough time to catch your breath before he slides his finger into you with one quick movement.
It punches the air out of you. If you had not been bent over the desk already, you’re sure you would have lost your footing - but as it is, Neuvillette goes about opening you up with a kind of determined certainty. The finger inside of you gives a few lone pumps, working your tight insides open - you are wet and pliable enough that it does not hurt near as much as you had thought it would. 
“Good,” Neuvillette murmurs, “Are you ready for me to add another?”
Again, you want to whimper and scream and bite - but as he continues to pump his finger in and out of you, you realise with that same shame that the feeling of him inside of you is good and could only be improved if he filled you more thoroughly.
“Yes, please,” you whisper, your throat dry - and you are rewarded with another low murmur of praise, and the feel of a finger joining the first at your entrance. You take another steady breath, but you do not need to; two fingers fit inside of you with only the barest modicum of resistance, your body silky wet and tight and welcoming. The silk of his gloves rubs against your inner walls curiously, making you feel utterly dizzy with sensation. 
There is a purpose to this that there hadn’t seemed to be when he was using his mouth on you. When he was using his mouth, though he had said it was in order to make the final result easier on you both, you had gotten the distinct impression he had rather enjoyed the process - the sucking, the wet noises, the lewd sound of his tongue against your soaking cunt. But here, Neuvillette crooks his fingers inside of you and pumps them in and out and scissors them slightly in a way that leaves no doubt that he is ensuring you will be able to take something even bigger and wider than his fingers when we have done. 
He still does it all with a trademark thoroughness; he rests his other hand on the small of your back to keep you still as those digits plunge in and out of you. You dread to think how soaked through with your slick his gloves will be when he is done--
But he does not use his fingers upon you to completion. 
You feel it building up inside of you with the way he curls them just so, rubbing against a spongy spot inside of you that makes your thighs tremble - but he doesn’t follow through on the promise that begins to build, dizzying, between your legs. 
He pulls out his fingers with a slick pop and a wet clicking noise, giving your cunt a gentle pat on his way out.
“There, my dear,” he says. “It will still be a tight fit, of course . . . but I should cause you no undue pain. And, if I may be so bold, little one - I’m absolutely certain you’ll feel exquisite.”
This time, there is no question that the rustling noise you hear behind you is him partly undressing; that the soft pop is the sound of buttons being freed from the confines of his placket. He lets out a pleased sigh - you assume at the feel of his hand on his own cock. 
“I’ve been longing to touch you,” he murmurs, as he slots himself between your hips. “I had to prepare you, naturally - oh, but little one, I’ve been hard since the moment you walked all trembling and righteous into my office.” 
“D-do you say that to all of the poor hopeful people who come into your office hoping you’ll grant them justice, Monsieur?” You manage, and he chuckles. His hips fit neatly in between your own spread thighs, and you feel the heavy, silky, hot weight of something as it slaps against the meat of your inner thigh and leaves a sticky wet trail upon the skin there. His cock. His pre-come, on you--
“As I’ve said before, little one,” he murmurs, and he readjusts himself and you hiss yourself as his cock presses softly against the pudge of your outer lips. He doesn’t move it yet; merely lets it rest there, letting you get used to the size of him and the knowledge that he is going to put it inside you. “I have never been so intrigued by any of them to want to. But you . . . ah, this human quality of resilience! You’re utterly darling. There’s even still fire in you now, when I have you naked and at my mercy. Tell me, little one . . . what would you do if I went back on our agreement now and still fucked you?”
You half rear up, and the way your body moves has his cock nudging at your clit, against you - you find yourself half-enveloping the thick shaft of his cock with your labia. It makes you breathless that it doesn’t even come close to disappearing inside you; indeed, the stretch of it reminds you of just how big he is.
“You wouldn’t!” You say, a tone of petulant fury edging your words - Neuvillette makes a hum of agreement even as his gloved hands travel up, over the curve of your hips and then your waist, until he is cupping the weight of your breasts in them and your nipples are once more trapped between the silken pinch of of his thumbs.
“You’re right,” he says, calmly. “I value justice too much for that - but oh, you’re quite something when you’re full of moral fury, aren’t you? Justice . . . a funny thing, isn’t it? One might say that having you right here, in my office, naked and hot and wet and exactly where I want you is a just reward for my years of service, wouldn’t they?”
You don’t respond, and he chuckles; nips a bite into the sensitive part of your throat where the curve of shoulder and neck meet that sends another electric zip down your spine.
“I’m going to put it inside of you now,” he says, still as calm as a placid lake. “And then I’m going to fuck you, little one. Are you quite ready?”
He tilts his hips forward as an urge for you to do the same; to lower yourself back down over the desk. You hiss as his cock slips and slides between the folds of your cunt, but it is nothing compared to how it feels when he pulls back and the wet head of his cock nudges almost impatiently against your entrance. He does not let go of where he is still pinching and rolling at the buds of your nipples, sending light-headed little thrills right down to between your legs - your sex clenching at the emptiness, missing his fingers.
“As ready as I think I’ll be, Monsieur,” you manage, hoping the title comes out as barbed as you want it to - but then he is pressing inside of you, his cock opening you up, and you bump against the table and go utterly blank of thought at the sensation of being claimed.
It feels like all of the air inside of you deflates as Neuvillette pushes himself into you. He had been correct on one count - he had prepared you well enough that there is only a light sting, the feeling that is to be expected when something large fits itself into a tight hole. You wheeze over his desk, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, as he seems to keep pushing and pushing and pushing--
You don’t think you’ll possibly take all of him, and then he stops and you feel his pelvis pressing against your ass, and you realise he is fully inside of you now.
“There,” even Neuvillette sounds a touch breathless. “Didn’t you do well, little one? Are you ready for me to begin moving?”
His only answer from you is a huff, as he pinches your nipples again and you feel yourself clench around the cock buried inside of you. He laughs softly, and with a wet drag you feel him pull out of you - and then drive back inside again with a wet pap, the sound indecently loud in the quiet office. Neuvillette had already established when he had made it clear he expected you to fulfil this arrangement in his work chambers that the walls were thick enough no gestionnaires would come running no matter what, but you still have a vision of it happening.
Some poor underpaid Palais Mermonia worker, coming in to ask the Honourable Chief Justice some question or another, only to find him bent over a shivering whining citizen, naked on his desk. The thought of someone seeing you, at such a powerful man’s mercy--
You clench around Neuvillette again, whining softly into the polished wood of the desk, your body wanting to welcome his cock inside and keep it for yourself. It feels so good - you can barely stand knowing how right and full and warm you feel, how you know that if Neuvillette stopped fucking you that you would have no choice but to beg him to carry on and let you come. 
“Good,” he murmurs, as he finds himself a rhythm that makes you quake. Every drag of his hips sets your body aflame, every twitch of his cock makes you huff and whimper. You’re moaning, you realise, as if you are somewhere very far away. “There now, little one - doesn’t that feel good?”
You don’t reply, but you do not need to. The sound of him fucking in and out of you - the wet sticky slap of his cock as his hips bounce against your spread thighs, the obscene feeling of your own arousal drooling out of you, and the noises that keep escaping your mouth unbidden all do that for you. Your body does not even try to push him out; merely pull him in tighter. 
He stops pinching your nipple with one hand, dragging it back down the curve of your body to curl around your thigh, sneaking between you and the wooden drawers of his desk - and you keen a high-pitched little noise as instead of your nipple, he roughly pinches at your clit instead.
The sensation of that silken fabric, sodden already with your slick, and the mean little pinch pushes you over a precipice that you didn’t realise you’d been hovering on. You cry out this time, a moan that you feel certain that everyone in the whole building must hear - but that doesn’t matter, as you spasm helplessly on Neuvillette’s cock and you give him your second orgasm of the night. 
He fucks you through it, even as you feel your cunt flex and flutter around him. You feel dizzy, panting, whining - but Neuvillette’s thrusts have more purpose now, and a low groan that sounds almost inhuman comes out of him as you weakly try and push your body back at him to hurry it along. 
“I’ll come when I’m ready,” he practically growls, and you whine as his teeth fasten into the meat of your shoulder so that he is utterly bent over you - the rasp of his silken clothes against you, fine fabrics and adornments. The satiny brush of his hair over your heated skin. “And you will take every drop, little one - as you agreed to do--”
You nod helplessly, and he groans - and then his cock is twitching inside of you wildly, and he’s biting at you again and huffing and groaning and the plunge of his hips seems to hit deeper inside of you with every thrust.
You had never imagined the Chief Justice like this in all of your life, but there is something animal to him now; some latent kind of primal instinct you had never realised that the kind, fatherly Monsieur Neuvillette possessed. You know now he is not as kind as you had once supposed, but it is still something else entirely to see him and feel him fuck you like a man possessed.
He snaps, his hips wildly gyrating into you, slapping against your ass so hard you fear you will bruise - and then you feel his cock jump and he comes inside of you, thick ropes of his release shooting directly into your insides and coating you, viscous and full of him.
He gives another almost animalistic growl against your skin, letting his cock judder and shoot out a few final spurts of his own seed - and then, there is a brief moment of quiet. You can hear yourself and your own shuddering breaths, your heart pounding in your ears - and then, the slick, wet noise of him pulling out of you. He catches hold of his own breath, and when he speaks again his voice is smooth and kind as ever as if nothing more has transpired here than a meeting of minds.
“Marvellous, little one. You did so terribly well. Of course,” Neuvillette murmurs against your ear, his breath a cool brush against your heated skin. There’s the faintest scent of saltwater in it; you shiver despite yourself. “You do realise that the final decision does not lie with me, do you not?”
“Wh-what do you mean?” You’re too breathless to speak, still - laid out across Monsieur Neuvillette’s desk, on display like the most wanton of creatures. You can still feel his come rolling down your thighs, spilling out of you with every pant of your breath - you were so utterly filled and claimed by him that you fancy you can feel his come inside of you even now, in thick ropes and dripping pearls. 
“Well,” Neuvillette moves away, and you  turn your head, cheek cold on the desk, to watch as he re-fastens the placket of his trousers, the tails of his coat swishing about him. You remain utterly debased; your clothes still in a haphazard pile to the side of his desk. You do not yet think your trembling legs could even hold you up, and you have no choice but to let Neuvillette continue to drink in the sight of you akimbo over his office furniture. “Surely you understand it is the Oratrice who will make the final decision, my dear?”
Your heart beats double time in your chest. Your breath comes out in a panicked little gasp, and you rear up before you’re quite ready for it, staggering towards him to clutch at his lapels.
“But it always sides with you,” you say to him, hating that your voice rises in pitch pathetically. “You’re always in agreement--”
“Yes,” Neuvillette agrees with a low hum, and you hate him as one of his thumbs gently comes up to caress your cheek like a lover. “It will be greatly novel for Lady Furina to witness the disagreement, I’m sure. Still - the Oratrice does have the final word, as it always has.”
“But you promised!” You don’t care about dignity now, as you feel the hot splash of tears across your cheeks. Neuvillette takes in a shuddering breath, far too reminiscent of the noise he’d made when he’d pressed himself inside of you. His thumb slides under a tear now, to catch it upon the pad; you watch in mute agonies as he lifts it to his mouth and his tongue flicks out to taste you.
“Really, my dear,” Neuvillette says, with a sigh of satisfaction. “I thought you were better educated than this; you were so very charmingly certain when you first came to see me after accosting me in public. All of those carefully laid out little plans and charts as to why your criminal brother couldn’t possibly have committed the felony that everybody knows he did--”
“But you agreed!” You’re desperate now. He hums again, and one of his arms settles around your waist, keeping you pinned against him. “You said you would find him not guilty! You said he’d be freed!”
“I said one of those things,” he corrects you - and then he sees that you’re very much hovering on the edge of hysteria, and he sighs. “You poor little creature. When I asked you if you were certain and that you’d thought everything through properly . . . you hadn’t really, had you?”
“I . . . I thought . . .” You sniffle desperately, trying to grasp onto the threads of your righteous anger as the cool sting of foresight settles over you once more. Monsieur Neuvillette is correct; he promised that he would find your brother not guilty, and you had taken it for granted that the ruling of the mighty Iudex would be enough to see your brother free.
Not a word about the Oratrice had passed his lips.  
You’re shaking. It is only Monsieur Neuvillette’s arm around your waist that stops you from falling to the ground. You fear if that grounding limb left, you would drop to your knees and hug at his legs and rub your sobbing face against his knee and beg. The fact that you had . . . that you’d given yourself to him, and he must have known that he could not truly give what you were asking for . . .
“And what then?” You whisper, your throat dry. Neuvillette makes a considering noise in the back of his throat; a throaty hum. A hand gently scoops your chin up to force you to look him in the eyes.
Neuvillette’s eyes are blue-grey-violet, boring down into you. There is something ancient and terrifying that lies behind them, but as they look into your own they seem to almost flash possessive. 
“I happen to know the administrator of the Fortress of Meropide,” he says, after a long moment. “Of course, I’m sure you understand that it is not the most . . . welcoming of places. Your brother’s confinement will lack creature comforts. But . . . it doesn’t have to be quite so dreary.”
Against your will, hope rises like a soft flame in your chest. 
“You would do that?” You ask the Iudex. “Make sure that he’s . . . that it’s not so bad?”
“You misunderstand,” Neuvillette tells you, with a small smile. “I have fulfilled my end of our agreement now. I will find your brother not guilty. Legally, there’s nothing else that you need of me.”
“I could tell someone--” You start to say, but Neuvillette only lets out a soft little huff of laughter.
“Poor thing,” he says, “do you truly believe that anybody would take your word - the sibling of some no-good criminal, desperate to save him - over mine? You must understand that I have, as Iudex, a long history of doing only the best for Fontaine.” He lets go of your waist, and you are thankful that you manage to keep your balance even as he turns and sweeps away towards his desk. “I am also aware that I’m the subject of some . . . romantic fantasy, in the hearts of the ever-theatrical people of our homeland.” He seats himself in the great chair behind his desk, and looks back up at you with that damnable smile playing around his lips - small enough you could not call it mocking, soft enough you could argue it was an attempt at sympathy. “Why would I give that up, just to tumble some know-nothing worth-nothing young upstart in my office?”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times in speechless anger, before that cool foresight settles over you once more.
Because he’s right.
Why would he? Why would anyone believe you? 
“. . . How can I ask for your aid again?” You manage to grit out, through clenched teeth.
“You could fill out a form from the Palais Mermonia,” he says, rifling through the paperwork on his desk as if you have already left the room. “Talk to one of the gestionnaires about aid for those incarcerated, once your brother has officially been sentenced. The working time for a response is currently . . .” He tilts his head to the side again, as if thinking. “Ah, yes. Only a year and six months. I’m sure nothing untoward could befall your poor brother in that time--”
“Monsieur,” you step towards him imploringly. “Please--”
You remember your nakedness only when Neuvillette looks up from his desk and lets his eyes critically sweep you again. Your nipples, stiff and sore from his pinching fingers. Your thighs, wet with his release and your own slick. The bite marks from his fangs that litter your bared skin. 
His eyes narrow; the face of a man taking in something that already belongs to him. A dragon considering his latest addition to the hoard. 
You realise exactly what he is going to ask you for, in return for his continued aid, before he opens his mouth. 
“Well,” he says, with a small smile upon his generous mouth. It is a mouth many would describe as kind; at this moment in time, you cannot think of it as anything other than dangerous. “You did such a good job of convincing me to aid you today . . . why, we could make these little meetings more regular, don’t you think?”
You swallow thickly. 
The Fortress of Meropide. Under the sea, with no sunlight, for who knows how long. Who knows where he would sleep, or what he would eat, or what other comforts would be denied to him in his imprisonment? 
“Yes, Monsieur,” you whisper, your throat bone dry. 
“Excellent,” he smiles at you in clear dismissal. You feel . . . used. Cheated. Hollow. Utterly owned and laid claim to and conquered, your spirit deadened inside as you look at the corrupt official you had once held in such high regard. “Next week, then. Wear something prettier, please. I’m partial to blue. Now - you don’t mind, do you? I have cases to review.”
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singingcicadas · 4 months
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idw Ratchet is someone who follows orders and respects authority. He might follow his conscience in spur-of-the-moment decisions that allows him the leeway/initiative to act on his own (e.g. setting up clinic on Dead End, breaking cover to save Verity and Hunter, going to look for Drift, voting against Rodimus in mtmte) but he's never openly defied the orders of an acting leader. Regardless if he doesn't agree with said order and thinks it's stupid. Or wrong.
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Even when Ratchet thinks Rodimus' treatment of Drift is unfair, he never speaks up against Rodimus during the actual issue of the exile verdict. He only offers Drift silent support by helping him up on the way out, because Rodimus is the captain and you don't argue with the captain. Yes he thinks Rodimus is a crap captain and acts condesending towards him all the time but when it comes to rank and orders there's no ambiguity.
Voting against Rodimus in the crisis act is a legitimate expression of disapproval, made anonymously in private. He doesn't care about Rodimus knowing his vote, but in public it stays anonymous. He does tell Rodimus off about what he did to Drift, but again, he makes sure it's a private one-on-one appointment. He also doesn't make Rodimus formally revoke Drift's exile or sanction his search, he resigns his position as CMO and quietly leaves to look for Drift himself as a personal commitment.
Common stereotype of what Ratchet is not:
Medic ethics and commitment to patients comes first, factions be damned. I don't care if he's a Decepticon, he's my patient.
No he's not actually like that? When Megatron's in custody he's all lets dissect him awwwww why can't we dissect him why does mass murderers still get rights that's so stupid can't I just torture him a little?
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Like he spent the whole war patching up Decepticon-inflicted wounds and witnessing Decepticon-inflicted deaths. He's not a saint. He has as much good reason to hate Megatron and his faction as any other Autobot.
In fact he was pretty eager to ask Optimus about what he's going to decide as Megatron's punishment after he heard about Optimus frying Megatron on the voltage harness.
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Optimus has his heart on clemency. Ratchet's the one hoping for execution or something equally nasty. Even though their opinions doesn't line up, Ratchet's still 100% supportive of Optimus' decision.
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He repairs Megatron only because of Bumblebee's orders, and makes his unwillingness known.
Later in mtmte Ratchet does save Megatron's life of his own volition and repairs him again, but that's after he's lived with Megatron on the same ship for six months (again something that he considers to be a colossally bad idea but is forced to live with because of orders) and got to know him as a person. Not because of bleeding heart syndrome.
Also Ratchet's not just a grouch all the time. He can be blunt but also knows when to be respectful as appropriate to the occasion. He reprimands Wheeljack for being disrespectful to Bumblebee because leaders should be treated like leaders.
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The guy's been CMO since Nominus Prime, essentially the highest-ranking of his profession on the planet; you can't get to that type of position and hold it through consecutive leaders for millions of years without considerable interpersonal skills and knowledge of social protocol.
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Prowl does have Ratchet on his little blacklist but the stuff on there really just refers to Ratchet saving Verity and Hunter back in Infilitration. I read it as more of a testament to Prowl's pettiness than Ratchet actually being a problem.
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q-nihachu · 5 months
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Timestamps from Niki's stream with summaries of the Tubbo-Herobrine lore!
2h 39m - Empanada and Niki wonder why Tubbo is on so late with a weird skin. They decide to go talk to him.
2h 40m - They find Tubbo dressed as Herobrine, spinning on his back on the ground to music. Bagi explains that he has a date with Fred and is probably nervous.
2h 46m - Bagi uses rainbow jelly on Tubbo, and he resumes standing upright. He seems to have a sort of weird power where, when he points at people, they disappear or reappear.
2h 53m - Tubbo makes all of the eggs disappear and reappear. Niki asks him if he’s evil, and he shakes his head. She gets blinded for a few seconds.
2h 55m - Tubbo flies into the air and logs off.
(interim)
3h 9m - Niki, Bad, Empanada, and Richas are working on Empanda’s egg carton room when they see Herobrine-Tubbo on the tablist again. Niki goes to see what’s going on.
3h 10m - Tubbo, in a different voice: We are not done yet. Take me to shells. Shells now. Small little shells.
Niki figures out that he means the eggs but refuses to take him to where they are. He calls her the “Keeper of the Shells” and continues to ask to be taken to them.
3h ?m - Niki: Do you know Tubbo? Are you Tubbo?
Tubbo-Herobrine: Unimportant.
3h 26m - Empanada arrives.
Tubbo-Herobrine: Shell, I must share news. Are you important?
Empanada: to my family and friends yes
Tubbo-Herobrine: In everything?
Empanada: oh I don’t know?
Tubbo-Herobrine: What is everything to you?
Empanada: my family and friends
Tubbo-Herobrine: So you are important.
3h 30m - Tubbo-Herobrine points at Empanada, and she disappears. He thanks Niki, but she asks him to bring Empanada back. He says “In 60 seconds.”
3h 31m - He asks Niki if she’s important. She says everyone is important. He brings Empanada back.
3h 33m - Tubbrine says he needs a home, and Niki says they can help.
3h 34m - They find out Tubbrine is a creation of Tubbo from the Tubchunk. He asks them not to tell Tubbo about it.
Tubbrine: Creator will not be mad. Just will have to start over. When start over, I end. I end forever.
3h 38m - Tubbrine now says he needs the “Jump keeper,” seemingly referring to Niki.
Tubbrine: I struggle with jump.
3h 41m - Tubbrine stands in the water and says that it hurts. Niki puts down scaffolding for him.
3h 48m - Niki figures out that there’s a conflict Tubbrine needs help with. It seems to have something to do with Tubbrine’s ranking of the eggs’ importance. Niki thinks he’s looking for Sunny.
3h 51m - Tubbrine says he wants the egg with the aggressive personality that “may be powerful.” Empanada guesses he wants Moon, Sunny’s alter ego.
Tubbrine: May be childish.
Niki: Sounds like Richas.
3h 53m - Tubbrine says he can’t say Empanada’s rank, but she’s high.
~ 3h 56m - Tubbrine disappears.
3h 57m - Tubbrine reappears while Niki is afk and insists that Empanada go with him. She leaves a sign for Niki explaining and does.
3h 59m - Niki returns and starts to panic, searching for them, but quickly finds them nearby. She continues trying to decipher what he wants.
4h 5m - Richas arrives with Bad, and it seems to be what Tubbrine was looking for! Tubbrine questions him in a similar fashion to Empanada about importance.
4h 14m - Tubbrine makes Richas disappear, saying he was dangerous.
Tubbrine: Shell is now safe. 
Tubbrine: The rank dictates.
4h 15m - Tubbrine: What does shell want?
Niki: We want him back. Can you bring him back?
4h 17m - They ask his name, and he says “I am Creation.” He brings Richas back (about now? I might have missed it).
4h 20m - Creation says “Done” and leaves. Niki explains everything she knows to Bad, and they agree to respect his wishes and not tell Tubbo. They decide to go investigate the Tubchunk.
4h 26m - After not finding anything at Tubchunk, Bad and Niki plan to ask Tubbo questions without revealing exactly what happened.
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the-travelling-witch · 3 months
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summary: i'm back on my "'i have more knowledge on x topic than all your advisers together, i just couldn’t progress through the ranks for one reason or another, so you should definitely make me your concubine, so i can gossip about your minister of finance’s stupid proposal while wearing expensive shit and fine dining and then we slowly fall in love' royal au" bs again, so have some rambles because there are a lot of possible constellations here
characters: shouto :: kenma :: inui/koko :: al-haitham/kaveh x gn! reader
general masterlist
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𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎
You could practically feel the daggers being glared into your skull. This entire meeting so far, the prince’s closest adviser had narrowed his eyes at you, a gesture which you only returned with a coy smile.
Really, just because it wasn’t common for a royal concubine to attend a meeting concerning safety measures at the upcoming masquerade ball, there was no need for such hostility.
Then again, maybe the adviser was so foul-tempered because of the physical position you found yourself in. But it wasn’t your fault they hadn’t prepared another seat for you or that Shouto was notoriously unbothered with social etiquette. So, if the prince ordered his concubine to sit on his lap instead, who were you to argue?
You doubted he glared at you because he was aware you had been investigating him or that you knew he and his fellow spies were planning an assassination attempt on the royal whose arm was currently lazily curled around your waist.
Surely, “concubine” was not exactly the title you had had in mind when agreeing to work as an intelligence agent on the Todoroki court but considering the former crown prince Touya had basically gone up in smoke after an attempt on his life, placing yourself right next to the prince where an enemy wouldn’t expect might not be a bad idea.
Besides, since you had taken the prince up on his offer, you had been able to enjoy many luxuries you could previously not even dream of. Delicacies practically melted on your tongue, the material of your clothes was of a quality so fine it was like dressing in air and the library held rare books you normally couldn’t get your hands on just like that.
You also had to admit, pretending to be Shouto’s lover wasn’t exactly torture either. Not only was he as handsome as they come but he was also very well-mannered towards you even in private. The clumsy side only few got to see when he let his guard down was also quite adorable.
So, to say you were quite comfortable where you were and had no intention of giving up your spot any time soon was an understatement.
“Your Highness is it really necessary to bring,” the adviser paused momentarily as he gestured at you, “this person to a meeting such as this? How can we be sure they are not working for an opposing kingdom, relaying our security measures to the enemy?”
You caught yourself before a snort escaped you. Seriously, how was nobody onto this guy before you came around?
“I have no doubt about their loyalty to me and the kingdom,” Shouto said, tone even as always, yet his hand around your waist tightened. “Besides, their safety might be compromised just like mine, so this information should be shared with them as well.”
“That’s right,” you goated, a sharp grin on your lips as you reached backwards over your shoulder to run your fingers down Shouto‘s neck as you held eye contact with the adviser. “I’ve shown my devotion to the prince in ways you never could.”
Soon you’d watch the light drain from his eyes as you ended his miserable life but for now you’d find amusement in how they widened in indignation.
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𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀
“Your Highness! I must ask you to stay in the medic’s quarters!” Said medic was fussing around you as you pulled the outer layer of your clothes back on. “I dressed the wound and used a minor healing spell but you need to rest! A-and your medicine—“
“I can rest in my quarters too,” you sighed, already halfway out of the door. “Someone will come pick up the treatment later.”
The medic was still stammering long after you already set out towards your room, trying not to put too much pressure on your side. You didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal but apparently the monster’s claws that had grazed your skin were laced in some sort of venom, the pain of which left you wheezing when you received another blow to the stomach.
Half stumbling, half falling into your room, you reckoned whatever spell the medic had cast hadn’t done much to rid your body of the poison, especially if you remembered how he had floundered once you first drudged into the infirmary. No wonder you had gone behind your parents’ backs to employ someone who actually understood his craft.
“Whoa what happened to you?” Kenma lifted his head from his magic-driven game board at the sound of the door opening. His sharp amber eyes studied you from head to toe, taking in the ripped clothes and collection of bruises and scratches. “You look like death chewed you up and spit you back out.”
“Thanks,” you retorted just as sarcastically, working to rid yourself of the rest of your armour, wincing when you strained the area around your ribs. “Must be the poison.”
“Poison?” Immediately, Kenma had perked up, already rounding the table, his game forgotten. “What poison? And where? And why didn’t you lead with that?”
Usually, the guy tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping to blend into the background. But whenever you dragged in yet another weird and wonderful ailment from out in the wild, your shy healer found himself in the habit of becoming a little bossy. Other royals might take offence if their concubines used that kind of tone but you had to admit you didn’t really mind.
“Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a chance to explain,” you laughed, pulling your shirt off and letting it pile up with the rest of your things, then wriggled your eyebrows at the blond. “So, where do you want me?”
“You are the worst, even when you’re dying,” Kenma rolled his eyes before a warm hand settled on your bare back and nudged you towards the bed. “For now, just lie down. And tell me exactly what the hell happened to you.”
Without any resistance, you settled down and watched as Kenma got to work. It was fascinating each time, even if you didn’t understand much of it and you were the one having to be treated. Whenever he focused on something, he adopted this no-nonsense expression, lips tightened into a line and eyebrows drawn together. You didn’t even want to start thinking about the way your skin tingled where his fingers touched you, well aware that the reason for it wasn’t the magic Kenma used.
“I told the doc someone would pick up my medicine later,” you spoke up once your healer had finished his work and both of you were just lingering within the same space.
As always when you told Kenma something he didn’t want to hear, he made one of the most expressive faces of disgust a human could muster.
“I’ll make sure to trip on the way,” he shrugged and you were aware he might actually do it too. “I didn’t spend all this time healing you just so that idiot can poison you again with whatever concoction he came up with this time.”
“Just what would I do without you?” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, you didn’t miss how Kenma, the guy who used to flinch at people coming near him, leaned slightly into your touch.
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𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 / 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎
The golden light of the sinking sun illuminated the balcony as birds chirped their last songs of the day. In the midst of the flowers blooming across the railing and the castle walls, three people sat around a table filled with fruits, cheese and many other delicious foods, eating and laughing together.
“But to come back to your Minister of Finance’s proposal,” Koko, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off the kingdom’s budget sheet, spoke up. Splitting off a few of the coins from the stack in front of him to visualise the share he was thinking about, he offered his insight. “I think we should use a cut of the newly allocated funds to strengthen the army’s equipment. The knights could do with new armour, especially considering the neighbouring kingdom has been less than friendly lately.”
“What new funds are we talking about?” You inquired, not having been privy to the meeting prior this day. 
“The party we sent out recently was more successful than we expected them to be,” Inui clued you in with a small smile as he studied what Koko proposed.
“Ah, the expedition that was my idea and that I equipped with the right tools. In that case,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes, before you made the stack of coins levitate over your outstretched palm, “I think we should use it to build a magic tower. It would help more with defence than equipping the knights, considering what fun things I could do with one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Koko scolded, reaching over the table to snatch the coins back. “How should we justify the King’s concubine wishing for a magic tower?”
While you shrugged, Seishu took your hand and answered much gentler than the black haired man. 
“I have to agree with Koko. Not because I doubt you could do a lot of great things with such a tower but because we already had a lot of trouble explaining why the lightning only struck the enemy’s side in the last battle,” he sighed, giving you an understanding look he knew had you giving in already. “The public doesn’t know we have a magic user on our side and word of construction would spread fast. Don’t forget why you went into hiding in the first place.”
“Yeah yeah, I understand, no magic tower. But, how about,” you leant back in your chair, tossing a coin you had hidden up your sleeve before Koko could retrieve it, “one or the other magic tome? Nobody would even notice. Just say it’s for a new necklace or whatever else concubines usually get.”
“Are you suggesting we commit fraud?” Koko levelled his accusatory gaze at you.
“I don’t know, am I?” You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “It would be for the good of the people, after all.”
“How is you getting a new toy good for the people?”
“I could make the grains grow faster or whatever the people usually pray for,” you shrugged. “I’m at least granting their wishes.”
“I thought you were interested in necromancy recently,” Seishu laughed knowingly. “I’m no expert in the field but how is that helping with making the crops grow?”
“I’m sure a walking dead body or two would scare off the crows,” you said as seriously as you could. “It might also scare off thieves, now that I think about it.”
Koko just looked at you, horrified, while Seishu laughed at your nonchalance. When the former regained his senses, he reprimanded you again. 
“We are not using tax money, so you can experiment with the undead and unleash them on the public!”
“Eh, it was worth a try,” you relented before popping another grape in your mouth.
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𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 / 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
You were well aware of the whispers that filled the halls of the castle when you weren’t present. 
Kaveh was probably a more conventional concubine to take, considering his innate kindness and striking beauty. Clearly, when he waltzed into the room beside you, it was like the sun was rising before everyone’s eyes. Yeah, he was probably an expected choice.
Al-Haitham, on the other hand…
It wasn’t exactly his physique which raised people’s questions. Moreso it was his gruff temper and apparent boredom with most topics, burying his nose in a book and brushing people off with less than a single word at times, that made your staff shake their heads at your appointment.
Not that it mattered much what other people thought.
What did matter, however, was that your country’s infrastructure had improved significantly since you made your peculiar choice of companions. After most critical meetings concerning upcoming construction, your subordinates believed your return to your chambers meant you just had to relieve some pent-up stress. Yet, those “steamy” nights were spent hunched over maps and graphs of your nation, pointing out the flaws in your advisers’ proposals and redoing blueprints of planned buildings.
Perhaps nobody else in the castle was aware of it, but Al- Haitham and Kaveh were a genius strategist and brilliant architect respectively, responsible for the projects the public praised you most for. And that had been the nature of your relationship in the beginning. They patched out your advisers’ proposals and you made sure they were compensated accordingly, unconventional as the methods may be.
Though, you supposed, after working together for a while, the titles you had given them may not be so wrong anymore. Long nights spent agonising over the ideal location for a new project had turned into quiet evenings lounging around your quarters, enjoying fine wine and lingering touches. Having the two around had become a great sense of comfort to you and running into them between meetings and stacks of paperworks waiting for you made a spark of fondness flutter in your chest.
However, running into both of them at the same time also meant the unlikely pair were probably bickering. This time, you could actually hear them before you rounded the corner.
“I’m telling you, if we use this type of wood-”
“It would rot under the environmental influences faster than you could complete construction.”
“Why, you…!”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled ready to calm down the situation somehow. Then, you came face to face with them and had an entirely new idea on how to mediate. Haitham had his arms crossed as he regarded the blond with an unimpressed expression, the pose accentuating the way his biceps and triceps flexed. With Kaveh turned away from you, you had a clear view of his back, as always exposed by the flowy robes he wore.
Sure, they might not be the most usual concubines you could’ve chosen, but that didn’t matter.
“Strategy meeting in my quarters, now. Royal orders.”
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diejager · 10 months
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who's the cruelest yandere out of the cod men in your opinion 😵‍💫 i wanna say price, but i'm interested in your own view!! ☄️🫣
Hmmmm I, honestly, never put much thought to who’s the cruelest of the bunch, but I am inclined to agree with you.
We all know Price, he’s an authoritative figure, he’s a Captain after all. With the rank and power of a captain, plus how successful his missions are, I’d say he’s also very respected. And we all know how respectable people hide dark secrets, no?? Price can be nice, but he can be as mean and cruel as he’s nice. He can be really cruel if he wants to, he doesn’t have a clean slate either, not with that stunt he pulled in MW1.
In my opinion, if given the opportunity (either as a yandere or simple a dark character) he’d be down right cruel, he’s a captain, he gets what he wants and what he wishes. With rank comes power, and with that, not much can stop him. He can still be sweet and soft, as any man, but he doesn’t shy from degrading and spanking. He might actually enjoy spanking, with a bit - a lot - of rope and handcuffs, it lets him have a lot more of control over you.
I’d put König somewhere behind Price tbh, he’s higher in ranking and power than Price, but he doesn’t do much about it, since PMC’s work differently than the military. I will say, however, that he can be rough and mean, cruel in a possessive way to show you who you belong to and who owns you. Bullying and possessiveness has a link in psychology (or so I’m told), and that just adds to the fire that makes König mean and imposing.
He’d definitely use his height and weight against you, pinning and degrading you in the cruelest way he can, a bully of some sort, but one just for you. König’s a dark man, as well, keeps his secret as close to his heart as he keeps his face hidden under his veil. He’s real physical, being bullied means that no one really wanted to be associated with him for fear of receiving the same treatment, so he grew up as a lonely kid. Which fuelled his possessiveness and jealousy. He’s extremely touch starved, it makes him like the thought of owning and belonging to someone physically and mentally.
Soap is third on the list, since he’s a bit more reckless and rowdy. He likes having his way, with how headstrong and boisterous he is, it’s at least expected that he likes getting what he wants. He’s not exactly cruel in a hitting or verbal way. He’s more of a “push over the limit” kind of cruel. He forgets your limit with how enthusiastic he is and it goes from nice to mean.
He’s not necessarily doing it on purpose, he’s just too enthusiastic! He’s a giver, but might give too much. And too much of good becomes bad. He’s a tad bit rough, beard burns and bruises, but he truly means no harm. He loves physically, kisses and hugs, hard hugs but only to show how much he loves you. Even as a darker character, he might be slightly more violent and degrading, but remember, he’s still headstrong and honest in the remake.
I put Ghost farther down cuz, well, he’s lived in a toxic household with an abusive father. He knows what it is to be hit, to be thrown around and to be berated for something he was innocent of. So while he is cruel to others, blunt and brutal with his words, he won’t raise a hand or his voice against you. It’s true that some of those that were abused grow up to become a cruel, callous and cold person, but that’s why he joined the military. It helps him control his sudden bursts of anger rather than taking it out on someone he cares about.
Even as a yandere or a morally grey character, if he learns to love someone, he’s not going to act out abusively. He knows what a toxic environment does to a person. He’s a soft carer, showing that he cares by memorizing your habits, your preferences, your little kinks and anything that makes you quirky. He might be a bit rough and mean, but he’d specify that he means none of it. After care is really, really important.
Lastly, Gaz, meh bby. Couldn’t do wrong in my mind. He’s precious and adorable. He’s dependable and likes to be praised and appreciated. I find it hard to imagine Gaz as someone cruel and demeaning. He likes being acknowledge for the things he’s done well, being given kisses and loving words. He’s a soft lover, he cares and gives a lot, but he loves being told how good he is.
We see how compassionate he is when he was first introduced in MW1, he doubts and hesitates, but always wants to help do good. He might have a slightly grey moral compas, but it’s extremely light when compared to Price and Ghost. He wants to help and means good, might be the reason he joined the military. Being strong and reliable to the person he cares about, to love you with all he can give. He’s not mean or degrading, unless you ask him to play the part, he won’t.
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reverie-verse · 5 months
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Anakin Skywalker x Reader: Crabbiness Equals Love
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Prompt: You’re from Earth, He’s from a Galaxy from far away. You’re sort of a normal person, and he’s a Jedi, that’s tasked with bringing you back to the council. You’ve known him for a few months and you’ve both had a rocky relationship, you’re friendly one minute and arguing the next. But what happens when the two of you are finally forced to work together? Things tend to come to light in odd ways…
Enemies + Friends =Love 🫶🏽🥹😊
Fluff this is definitely fluff😊
Yes I gave you knowledge in fighting because let’s face it, ain’t nobody safe out here in these streets. 😩😬
You have some knowledge in technology of the ship, given that you’re an engineer. 🤷🏽‍♀️ It’s how I developed the story😩
————————————————
“ Master, we've been stranded out here for two days! Go talk to her.” Ahsoka points out to you, Anakin had his arms crossed, staring off into the distance. Rex tried his best not to laugh, taking it as his cue to visit and speak with Obi Wan.
“ No” Anakin doesn’t budge, instead he sighs a deep sigh.
“Master, can’t you see how hard she’s working over there, tinkering away on the ship. Even R2 is going over there to help her out”Ahsoka tried a different approach, sounds of metal and sparks could be heard, R2 makes his little way across the dirt to get to you.
“ She's fine. She doesn’t need my help.” He continues his long distance staring, his stubbornness at an all time high. Ahsoka groans, throwing her hands up in the air. She turns away from Anakin making her way towards the ship. She could hear you cursing as you were banging on the pieces of the ship. She shook her head figuring she’d have to try to persuade you to speak with him.
“ Y/N?!” She calls out to you.
“ What?!” You replied as you twisted a piece of electrical together.
“What’s going on between the both of you?” Ahsoka lifts her eyebrow up at you, as she peeks into the little hole of which you worked out of.
“ Nothing” You replied, taking to wires and conjoining them, testing out to see if they’d work.
“ Really? Why do I get the feeling it’s not true” Ahsoka says sneakily, trying to get you to explain the situation. Or maybe reveal a detail about the relationship between the two of you.
“ No-Well-No-you know what, I need a power converter. I can’t do this without it, and that means I need to go into the city” You changed the subject avoiding Ahsoka’s statement.
“ Great!-“ Ahsoka smiles “-Anakin will go with you- ANAKIN! You have to go with Y/N to the city!” Ahsoka turns on her heel, making her way out the ship and to her Master. Anakin had moved to stand next to Obi Wan and Rex.
“ No, you go with her” He shakes his head, he refuses to be with you right now.
Obi Wan only smirks before speaking out “ I agree with your padawan, I think you should go with Y/N”
“ I don’t care what my padawan thinks, I’m in charge” He retorts.
“ Yes, while that is true, but I out rank all of you, so you will go with Y/N to the city,” Obi Wan replied as he rested a hand under his chin. You were standing at the end of the ramp. You grit your teeth, clenching your fists. Ahsoka smiles from ear to ear, Rex had to turn away from the scene.
You and Anakin both glared at each other. The word “Fine” left both of your lips roughly, as the irritation builds between the two of you.
“ Get your cloak” Anakin orders.
“ I am getting my cloak-here’s yours asshole” You threw his cloak at his face while you tugged yours on.
Anakin glared at you, catching it with ease shrugging it on. “ What did you just call me?”
“ I called you a-“
“ -Be safe you two! We’ll watch the ship while you’re gone!” Ahsoka interrupted you as she ushered the two of you along. From the looks of it, the two of you walked with a large amount of space between you, neither one of you wanting to be near one another. It was quite amusing to be honest.
Rex shook his head, a smile on his face “ Are you sure you want to send just the two of them? They might end up killing each other.”
“ Captain Rex, the hope is that they won’t kill each other. Maybe by the end of this the two will get along. “ Obi Wan sighs, shaking his head.
————
The two of you neared the city limits, as the two of you were about to enter, Anakin pulled his hood upon his head shielding his face, causing you to do the same. Both of you instinctively inch closer together, as your eyes surveyed the crowd. “ Stick close and don’t touch anything” Anakin whispers to you.
“ Oh come on, what are you, my gatekeeper? It’s not like I planned to touch everything while in the process of running away.” You replied sarcastically, your eyes landed on a building that looked as if it sold parts. That was the first shop you intended to visit, you began to move in that direction, Anakin hot on your heels, his eyes never drifting from the crowd.
“ No but you aren’t a jedi either, so someone has to watch you” He retorts, as he quickly wraps a hand around your bicep, pulling you back into him, to keep the creature walking past you, from crashing into you. His grip on you wasn’t as hard as you’d expect. He held you firmly but not enough to cause bruising. Interesting. You were less timid from the time you were first introduced to this life. By now you were becoming accustomed to it, the creatures, and the planets. The life of the galaxy.
“ Yeah well, I don’t need a babysitter. And who's to say I won’t become one just to spite you.” You yank your arm out of his grasp opening the door, your eyes looking for the section of materials you need.
“ Y/N that’s not how that works-What is your problem?” Anakin asks as he surveys the shop.
“ My problem? I should be asking you that, you're the one who’s got a stick shoved up his ass twenty-four seven.” You had finally found the piece you were looking for, you grabbed it turning to Anakin to show him the piece that you found. He of course had to make sure it was in good shape and condition before purchasing the item.
“ What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks you in confusion.
“ It means that you’re crabby all the time, at least with me. You're not that way with Ahsoka, Obi Wan or even Rex. Or that Senator woman” You take the item off the counter carrying it in your arms, Anakin takes his leftover credits, placing them in his pocket.
“ That ‘senator woman’ has a name, there’s nothing going on between her and I…-I’m not crabby with you all the time..” He tries to defend, as he ushers you outside, he makes sure to place an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He could feel an uneasy disturbance through the force, someone was here, and he could feel their eyes on you both.
“ Really? Cuuzzz it kinda looks like it- Listen all I’m saying is that ever since you and your space warriors came to earth to take me away on your little spaceship. You were fine but then after that two week grace period you’ve been nothing but crabby-hey!” Anakin pulls you into an alleyway behind a bin, his large hand covers, your mouth, your back pressed tightly to his chest, his side pressed against the wall, shielding you from the creatures who stopped at the alleyway.
“ Which way did they go?” One hisses out.
“ I don’t know, I lost them in the alleyway”
“ She’s with a jedi” Another growls.
“ So, it’s just one jedi against the four of us.-” The other voice chuckled darkly. Anakin’s com link blink, a sound emitted from it. You looked up at him as he looked down at you, he let go of your mouth as the two of you rushed to turn it off. Obi Wan’s voice comes through before you both could get to the button.
“ Anakin, where are you two? I do hope that you aren’t fighting. Ahsoka has finished a portion of Y/N’s work we still need that other piece-”
“ Did you hear that? It sounds like we got company” The group inched further into the alleyway.
“ Anakin? Come in, Anakin?” Obi Wan’s voice grew more irritated by the second.
“ Awe man, does that mean we gotta fight the lizard people?” You looked towards Anakin who was shaking his head at your reluctance.
“ Yeah-” His answer was short as he moved you out of the way, he lifted his wrist to his mouth “Obi Wan I’m a little busy right now, we’ll get there as fast as we can-”. Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, igniting it as the group of four closed on you both. You moved off to the side, your eyes landing on a speeder that remained stationed on the side, the owner nowhere in sight. The group grew closer, lifting their weapons up, pointing at the two of you.
“We take them together-Y/N?!” Anakin calls out to you as you take off running. You threw whatever object you found on the ground at one of the lizard guys. Using him as leverage you knocked the weapon out of the other guy's hand, the three of you now engaged in hand to hand combat. Anakin deflects the shots taking down his enemies. He too, is engaged in hand to hand combat, as he easily takes them down. However one of the enemies pressed a button on their wrist signaling for back up, a much larger group of thugs emerged from the opposite end of the alleyway.
“ Shit there’s more?!-“ As you both fought.
“ What did you expect, for there to be less?!” Anakin yells back as he kicks his opponent back.
“ I don’t know, maybe?!-“ You socked your opponent in the face, as he ducked your eyes landed on a speeder across the way,”- Anakin the speeder!” You yelled as you flipped a guy over, rolling yourself over his body, using his weapon to shoot at the other men.
“ I know-Let’s go!” Anakin twirls his lightsaber blocking off the shots, he slices one weapon in half as he force pushes his enemy away. You took off running for the speeder, Anakin following behind you. The two of you weave through the crowd, getting on just as the owner walked out of a nearby shop. The two of you hopped in starting it right away. Anakin drove the speeder while you sat facing the back of the speeder pointing your weapon at the enemies. As they fired at you both, you fired back at them, Anakin swerved through traffic. He makes a hard turn causing you to slide over, losing your shot.
“ Damnit!-” You shouted as you realigned your targets.
Anakin too busy lost in thought he smashes his foot on the break causing you to yet again lose your shot and slam into the dashboard. “ Anakin?!” You glared at him.
“ You think I’m crabby?!” The vehicle completely stopped in the middle of traffic. Anakin turned to look at you.
“ What?!” You replied in disbelief and shock.
“ Do you?” He insisted.
“ Are you kidding me right now?! We are in the middle of a speed chase and you want to talk about being crabby?!-“ Your grabbed your weapon, fixing yourself back into your position as the other speeders got closer. “-Now’s the time to start moving!”
“ I’m finishing the conversation we had earlier! Answer the question!” Anakin was determined.
“ Are you-Fine-Yes I do! Are you happy now? Will you stop arguing with me and drive?!” You started firing, hitting one of the targets causing them to fall off their speeder and crash into a building. You switch targets aiming for another one, you follow it.
“No I’m not crabby! No, I won't drive, not until we sort this out- together!” He crosses his arms.
You looked away from your target glaring at him “So help me-if you don’t start this damn vehicle-ugh fuck it!” You pull back your weapon slamming your foot down on the gas, Anakin momentarily takes his foot off the break, the two of you once again swerving out of traffic. Half of your body rests on top of him as you move through the current of vehicles, you aim to get the hell out of dodge. Anakin switched seats with you, allowing you to take hold of the driver's seat, and him the passenger. A hand that belonged to Anakin as he gripped onto your shirt holding you in place to keep you from falling out. The two of you shifted from side to side from your aggressive turn. The two of you barely make it out of the city, leaving the thugs behind in the dust so to speak.
The heat of your skin pouring through your shirt, it warmed his hand. For a second Anakin thought of what it might feel like to touch your skin. To feel the heat of it against his. The chemistry between you too was undeniable, the level of comfortability has always been there. For Anakin you were the one person he could be himself around. He could be sad, mad, sweet, humorous, annoying, over confident, and boyish. But you, you were honest, sarcastic, you were hilarious, you were kind and charismatic. You were right though, he was being a dick to you, sort of these past few weeks. When he first met you, you were kind and you offered to help where you could and when you could. He liked that about you-there were a lot of things he liked about you-he just wasn’t ready to admit it-not with so many people around…
By the time you reached the ship, you threw your cloak off and to the side of the ship with Anakin hot on your heels. Ooo you were so mad, you could literally murder him, not really but you wanted him to trip and fall on his stupid pretty face. Ugggghhhh. You grabbed the piece that Anakin helped you buy from the shop getting ready to work on it. Ahsoka, and Rex seemed to find a way to make themselves busy. Obi Wan held an amused smile on his face. “ I take it the two of you are still working on some things”
“ Something like that” Anakin shrugs with a smirk on his face as if he had a plan set in motion. A plan that only he wanted to know, Obi wan shakes his head smiling to himself. The two head to the cockpit with Rex following behind. Ahsoka, joins you in finishing your work with the converter, the ship finally starting up allowing you all to leave the planet.
——
You were sitting at the table near the kitchen of the ship, you had a cup of water. Your hair pulled out of its tight hold, allowing it to be in its natural state. You had your hands cupped around the cup itself, you stared down into it. Your mind adrift, your thoughts chaotic, you were perplexed, confused, exhausted and attracted to someone who might be attracted to someone else. Anakin was Anakin, you knew that and you knew the type of person he was. Sure the two of you hadn’t always fought, there were times you guys actually got along but right now he was insufferable. Annoying, he got under your skin on purpose, you just know it.
You rubbed your eyes, heaving a sigh, as if on cue Anakin himself walks into space. As if he had known you’d be thinking about him. You stood up taking your cup with you, you walked to the sink pouring it out and washing before setting it back on the rack. You turned to leave the space but not before Anakin reached a hand out grabbing your arm, causing you to stop in your tracks. “ Hey, hold on” He says softly.
“ Why? So you can irritate me some more, no thanks-“You moved to pull your arm out of his grasp.
“No, but I’m tired of arguing,” He admits.
You lift an eyebrow at him “ Really?”
“ Yes..and I’m sorry.” He says, his face contorting into a softer look.
“ For?” You sighed.
“ For my crabbiness” He couldn’t help but smile.
“Anakin.” You groaned.
“ Y/N” He whispered back, the grin never leaving his face, a chuckle rumbles from his chest.
“ That’s not funny,-” You tell him, a small smile of your own fights it’s way into your face.”-But, apology accepted I guess. I’m sorry for calling you crabby.”
“No need to apologize for it, I was an asshole these past couple weeks..” He looks down at the floor before looking back up to you “-As for the senator, it’s complicated.”
“ You were a pain in my ass…But tell me about your situation maybe I can help” Your hip leaned against the counter, your arms crossed. Your heart hammers in your chest at the same time sinking.
“She’s only a few years older than I am, she’s all I’ve ever known, she’s familiar” His hip against the counter matching your body language, Anakin completely faces you, he’s standing a little closer than he was before but not enough to force you to look up at him.
“But I thought Jedi aren’t allowed to fall in love”Your head tilts slightly to the side as you pondered the thought of it, Anakin tried not to follow your head movement, it was cute, your curiosity.
“ Well attachments are forbidden, possession is forbidden, but compassion is unconditional love- also forbidden-but these things…are crucial to a Jedi’s life” He smiles softly.
You squint your eyes at him “ I don’t-are you sure? Cuz I don’t think that’s-what the Jedi meant when they said forbidden..”
“ Y/N” He huffs.
“ Okay cool we’re just gonna ignore the code got it. So I assume that your friendship between the Senator and you has blossomed into-something more?” You gestured to him with your hand.
“ No, not exactly”
“ No? Wait hold on. You just said she was familiar, I’m lost- then who are you talking about?” Your eyebrows creased together.
“ She is familiar as a friend, someone like Obi Wan or Ashoka. I thought that she would mean more to me but then there was you” He whispered gently, he moved from the counter's edge, stepping closer to you, his hands taking hold of your hips pulling you towards him. Chest to chest his head angles downwards, your head cranked up to look at him.
“ Me?” Your eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise.
“ Yes, you. I can breathe when I’m around you, I can think, I can feel the weight of the order and the galaxy lift off my shoulders. You challenge me, you intrigue me, you guide me, you show me how to be better.” he dipped his head closer to yours, nudging his nose with yours. Your body and mind give you away instantly, melting in his hold, it was something you realized you hadn’t felt in a long time. His touch was intoxicating, and to him you were breathtaking. Such a quick switch of emotions, but he was done pushing you away, and you were done with ignoring how you felt about him.
You whispered, sucking in a breath before releasing it, “ I-You-This-Please tell me this isn’t a joke, cuz that would be really mean.”
“ If I was joking I wouldn’t have confessed the way I did. ” He smiles, one hand lifting up to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing against your cheek, he rubs his nose with yours as tilting his head to the opposite side. Within a second his lips were on yours, your hands grip his clothes, the hand around your waist tucks you further into his body, the hand that held your jaw, his long fingers connecting with the back of your head and hair. The two of you twisted in opposite directions, his lips engulfing yours in such a sweet, passionate languid pace though it quickly turned into a frenzy of rushed kisses. He was practically devouring you and you were fighting to keep up with him. You had to pull back needing air, you shook your eye, you needed to calm down for a second.
Anakin smirks, your eyes searching his face, his hair falling out of place, his lips swollen-“Shiiitttt, you’re dangerous-” You admit your chest heaving up and down, causing him to laugh. His hand slips from your neck and cheek moving to join his other hand around your waist.“-No I am serious, no wonder why so many women, and men fall at your feet” You laughed with him. He buries his head in the crook of your neck. Your arms wrapping around him holding him in place.
“ Mmm I don’t know what you’re talking about-” His lips move against your hot skin as he speaks.
Ahsoka steps through the threshold with a grin of her own “ -I take it all is well?” She asks, her voice startling you both, Anakin releases you, the warmth of him slipping away along with him. You lean with your back against the counter, your hands resting on top of it.
“ What, do you want snips?” He huffs as he stood half way in front of you.
“ Oh you know, just checking up on my Master and friend-” Ahsoka smirks as she lifts an eyebrow between the two of you. “-And to tell you both that we are nearing coruscant. Obi Wan wants you both up front.”
“ Thank you!” You tilt your head to the side to look past Anakin, giving her a sweet smile. Ahsoka nods as she walks away from the door moving towards the cockpit. Anakin turned to you causing you to shrug offering him the same smile. “That’s our cue” you push off the counter heading out to the hall.
Anakin follows behind you as he leans close to your ear “This isn’t over” He whispers to you, he kisses your cheek slipping into the cockpit. You rolled your eyes at him, which only made him grin from ear to ear. The two of you take your seats, Obi Wan and Rex piloting, Ahsoka in front of you.
“ Oh good, the two of you are finally getting along.” Obi Wan states. The two of you looking anywhere but at each other, sharing what could only be described as happy and secretly enjoying the new found relationship.
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bad268 · 5 days
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maybe a kimi antonelli x reader oneshot where the reader is a journalist and kimi and her fall for each other?
love your stories!
The Exclusive (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Journalist! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (thank you love! I had fun with this <3 I used to be a journalism major so it was fun going back to my roots lol)
Warnings: Aged up Kimi
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 1067
Summary: The exclusive interview with Kimi.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
Right now, it was just a hobby. A little blog you started before college that then turned into a podcast and full-blown career. At least, that’s what it was looking like.
You started writing about the Formula 1 feeder series’ years ago because you wanted to give a platform to the smaller categories, and it blew up. It also blew your mind that these people who were around your age were already getting their feet in the door to the pinnacle of motorsport. You also had a knack for writing, so reporting on the drivers’ and the series’ themselves proved to be easy for you.
Soon enough, you started getting invited on behalf of different teams to interview their drivers. Mainly Prema, ART, Van Amersfoort, and MP Motorsport, but they were the biggest teams in each category, so it made sense.
The first time you went to the track was with Van Amersfoort in 2021. There was a race at your favorite track of Red Bull Ring, which you had mentioned on the blog at one point, so they invited you. You had heard of a new driver joining one of the teams, but since it was not Van Amersfoort, you did not plan to do a deep dive until after the race weekend.
You were running through the garages, looking for your iPad, so you could interview Oliver Bearman, the championship leader. Plus, you were already a guest in their garage. Might as well capitalize on it.
You finally found it, so you pulled out your microphone from your backpack as you walked down the pitlane. Most of the drivers were getting the track limits rundown from the stewards, so you knew Ollie would be free after the meeting.
Almost as if it were planned, you ran into someone while you were distracted. Looking up from where you dropped the microphone and a paper with the questions you had for Ollie, you’re met with a brown-eyed, curly-haired boy, and you're a goner.
You couldn’t help but stutter out an apology, but funny enough, he was doing the same. When you both finally stopped stuttering out apologies, he said, “My name’s Kimi.”
You told him your name, and the rest was history.
There was an unspoken rule that from that moment onward, mainly because you two became official not long after. You were only a guest of Prema. It was just a joke that Kimi made up, saying he would crash if you wore any other team’s merch on a race weekend. Sure, you did not believe it, but it’s not like you had anything against wearing your boyfriend’s team merch.
It also meant that you got exclusive Kimi Antonelli interviews whenever you wanted, and you would ask (manipulate) Kimi into messaging any driver you wanted to interview. There was one interview that boosted both of you into the ranks of motorsport.
~~
“Kimi,” You said simply as soon as the podcast started.
“Y/n,” He repeated back as he looked at you over the microphone. You had recently started recording the podcasts to be posted to YouTube after being told to do it by Clement Novalak. He had a successful podcast, so you thought you better listen to his advice.
“2023 Formula 2 Champion has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”
“It does, yeah,” He laughed.
“Good, it would suck if you didn't,” You muttered into the microphone. “Anyways, I know this already because I’m cool, but I think my viewers should get the exclusive. Kimi, where will you be going next year?”
“I'm still racing,” He knew that was not what you were asking, but he’s been on enough of your podcasts to know that your fans love the banter.
“No shit, Sherlock,” You deadpanned with a dry laugh. “I mean what team will you drive.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He teased, eyeing you from his place across from you.
“I already know, and if you don’t spill the beans, I’ll say it,” You threatened. “I’ve got your PR manager on speed dial, so don’t even try to threaten me with Sophie.”
“Fine, I guess I’m going to Mercedes,” Kimi sighed in mock hurt, but you knew it was all for show.
“How does it feel to be teammates with the George Russell and share a grid with the guy who introduced us again?”
“Ollie did not introduce us, don’t get the story messed up,” Kimi accused as he leaned forward on the couch, causing you to do the same. “You and your clumsiness is what got us to meet.”
“Oh, please! You were a stuttering mess, too. Do not put all the blame on me!”
“I never said I was blaming you!”
“It sounds like it!”
“Why are we arguing about how we met? We are both saying the same thing!”
“You’re right,” You said normally as you leaned back on the couch before whispering, “for once,” Into the microphone. You looked up at Kimi as he also sat back. “Anyways, now that we’ve settled you’re going to Mercedes, what track are you most excited for?”
“Monaco,” Kimi said immediately.
“How did I know you would say that?”
“Probably because I told you this a couple of days ago when you tested this question on me, and I answered Singapore, but you said that wasn’t good enough.”
“Hey, don’t expose me on my own podcast here!”
“Ok, my answer is Singapore,” He changed his answer as he raised his eyebrows at you, almost asking you to dispute his answer.
“I’ll cut this out,” Spoiler, no you did not. “But I don't think that’s the right answer.”
“What do you mean?” KImi gasped as he laughed in disbelief. “It’s my answer!”
“What is so special about Singapore? It's literally just hot, that’s it!”
“Well, yes, but-” Kimi tried but was cut off by your laughing. Eventually, you died down, and he continued, “The atmosphere is insane.”
“The atmosphere is also insane in Monza or Red Bull Ring but ok.”
“I’ve raced there.”
“Oh! I didn’t even think about that!”
“You thought I would prefer a track that I’ve already driven and won at?”
“I forgot the implications of my own question,” You giggled at yourself. “Anyways, I think that’s enough for today’s episode. The blog post will be up tomorrow, and the video will be up by Sunday. We’ll see you on the track!”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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celabi · 1 year
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Winky face ☆彡 1.8k
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This is part of my scummy men thing, but idk when I’ll post that so I’ll just post this early 🤷‍♀️ that probably would have been out if I didn’t get carried away with this 👽 they were supposed to be like 200 words each MAX 🤡
Heizou is not ashamed to try and exploit his high rank in the 'important person' list to try and get what he wants— and being a member of the student council team means that he can get away with almost just about anything. He grins to himself, and raises up his fist to knock on the door. His fingers are twitching in excitement, and the wait for approval is almost antagonising to him, to say the least. So when he's granted access by the professor to enter with a loud 'Come in!', he nearly skips in his step to rush open the door, and walk inside. Many curious eyes turn to him, but he likes the attention, so he doesn't stop, and excitedly strides over to the teachers desk. "Hello ma'am! I'm afraid [name] will need to miss out on this lecture... she's needed in the council office. As soon as possible, preferably." A lie, but of course, nobody here needs to know that. He turns his head, and hardly needs to scan around the room because it's almost instant that his mischievous eyes lock onto your tired ones. He winks, and uses his finger to motion you to come over when the professor agrees to his request with no questions asked, just what he wanted.
When you sigh in defeat, and get up from your seat and start to gather all of your belongings, he just stands there and stares, stares at your delicate hands as they move around to grab your things, stares at your soft legs when you bend down to pick up that eraser you just accidentally dropped, stares at your pretty little face when you walk over to the door and reach for the handle— he draws a deep breath, bids your teacher and class goodbye with a careless looking wave, and quickly jogs over to follow you. "What's the rush?" You're already half way down the hallway when he turns around after shutting the door, so he hurries up on his feet to catch up, only slowing down when he's finally matched your pace. "We have all the time in the world right now." He happily grins, reaches for your book bag before you can detest, and hoists it over his shoulder.
"You might, but I have stuff to do...like trying to continue my education and progress in life." You don't bother to turn your head when his hand finds place on the lower part of your back, but you do however, start to speed up your steps when he slowly begins to lower it down and closer to your butt. Heizou ever so slightly pouts in disappointment when his advancement is brushed off by you so easily, but he quickly covers it up with his usual cheeky grin, and doesn't bother to comment on his loss. You turn the corner, and he takes the chance to step try and get close— but it's either that you had failed to notice that how his body is closer to yours then it probably should have been, or that you just didn't care, he's just happy it's working. "Ouch, like an arrow straight through my poor little heart." He clutches his shirt to add onto his playful act, and he swears that if he squints his eyelids hard enough, he can see a ghost of a smile on your soft looking lips. 'Got her...'
"So..." you clear your throat, and quickly gaze at him from the corner of your eyes, which he is already staring back at. "Where are we really going?" You ask, and Heizou blinks, before tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy— and if he wasn't already so high up in his pride, you almost want to call him cute. "Oh? Whatever do you mean, my dear?" He places a finger on his chin and taps it in thought, and can almost feel himself swooning when you look away and playfully roll your eyes at him.
"Well... if i am correct, which i know that i most certainly am, the councillors office is—" you abruptly stop walking, and he does too, watching with an amused smirk as you turn around and point your index finger in the direction that you had both just walked through. "—that way, meaning we are going the completely wrong way— and considering that you haven't said a single thing about that..." you trail off, and he would applaud you for your observation skills, if not for his hands gripping onto the hem of his shirt out of excitement. 'A women after my own heart... how sexy.' He tries to quell the fast beating of his chest but good god, you really were just perfect, a perfect women, everything that he's ever needed and more... he's really not sure how much longer of a wait he can endure before it finally gets too much for him to handle. He can already feel his patience running thin with each tick of the clock it's that antagonising. He gulps, and tried to rid of the lump that formed in his throat. "...you perhaps have some... ulterior motives?" you finish off, and he hums in delight.
"Ah, like always, you're right on the money! That's why i like you so much." He snaps his fingers, and nods to himself, the vibrant maroon strands of his hair fall down over his eyes, which he quickly dismisses with his hand. "Oh! And would you look at that, it seems we have already reached our destination." His chromatic eyes, full of nothing but mischief, look somewhat unsettling as they almost bore into your own, and makes you debate with yourself wether you should really turn around to where he's pointing or not. But of course, it's like Heizou can sense your hesitation, so he ushers you to do so with the offer of that charming smile. He knows he's got you, as he watches as you sigh in defeat, and give in. It's a storage closet, one with an old looking sign that says 'Authorised personal only' plastered right on the door no less. You blink cautiously, and quickly turn around to question his motives, but he's quicker, and is already reaching for the handle and pushing open the door, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in with him. "Hey—!"
It kind of smells, probably from everything crowding the room and stopping the vents from allowing clean air to pass through, it's also very dusty, like it hasn't had a proper clean in maybe years— and over the sounds of you hacking away at your lungs after you accidentally inhaled some of the dust particles that spread around from your sudden movements, you can faintly hear how the creaky door closes shut behind you, fantastic, now it's dark too. It's quiet for a moment, too quiet that you wonder if Heizou is still even here with you— but as you're about to call out for him to confirm, something is suddenly grabbing ahold of your waist, and pulling in. You squeal in surprise, but that quickly turns into a grunt when your back comes in contact with something firm. "It's pitch black in here... we should stay close together." His tone of voice... your body trembles as little shivers crawl up your spine, it's so... unnerving, in a way. He follows his own advice of being close, and presses his chest more firmly against you— the buttons to his shirt almost dig into your skin, but right now, being too nervous to say anything, you just bear the slight discomfort it brings you. His hands, even though small and slim, make you feel almost tiny in his grasp as they wander over the flesh of your hips and around your body— until his arms are caging you in tightly, so tight that to even think about trying to slither out is almost an embarrassing thought. Because to put it simply— he has you trapped.
"Heizou... stop playing around already. Did you really pull me out of class to just mess with me? Let me go so i can do something productive with my time." It sounds mean, but you're on edge, and he knows that— probably by the slight quiver in your voice, one which you're not sure formed from either the tense and eerie atmosphere that has suddenly clouded over the room— or the way Heizou's warm breath skims over the skin of your neck from just how close he is. Either way, goosebumps start to arise on your arms and legs. "S-seriously... I have to study. Exams are coming up soon and— and I can't afford to be wasting my time right now..." he doesn't respond, but the way the side of his head drops onto your tense shoulder is almost a wordless answer enough. You listen anxiously as he takes in a drawn breath, and if it weren't for your current situation— you'd probably crack a joke about how it seems like he's sniffing you because of the way his nose presses up against your skin.
"...are you aware of just how aromatic you smell?" Ah... so he was sniffing you. You shift around uncomfortably at the thought, but he keeps you in place. His chest is starting to rise and fall faster then it probably should be, but so is yours— and you're one hundred and ten percent sure that he can hear the pulsating beat of your heart increasing with each passing second from the place which he stands (which is not very far away, whatsoever). Your aroma is so sweet, he thinks, and shamelessly stuffs his nose back into your neck, where he's able to breathe in your scent again at a more close up level. So sweet that, he swears his hips are moving on their own, as they softly jerk forward and grind against your ass. So sweet that he blames the little moans he lets fall past his lips, on you, and your intoxicating smell, that has his hands running down your stomach and towards your crotch out of his control. Really, he can't help it... honest. You can feel how his cock starts to erect in his pants, and press up against you— making you whine in embarrassment. "Ah— come on, Heizou, s-seriously. I'm telling you, you need to let me go before someone hears us..."
"Well, my—" he grunts, and teasingly trails his hand down further, until his fingers are met with the elastic band on your pants, which he wastes no time slipping past and gliding his hand lower, where he finally, after what felt like decades, acquires what he has been looking forward to this entire time... your pussy. "—my intuition is telling me that... you're all i'll ever need, baby." You had him waiting for so long... surely you wouldn't mind if he just, pushed aside your panties and... took what he wanted? Right?
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itsharleystuff · 8 months
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⸻ 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰
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‘ necio porque no eres mía, mi fruta prohibida ‘
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t stay away from you, even if that means being your sneaky link.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, unrealistic car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating, feelings (left unsaid), fingering, hair pulling, praising, lots of kissing, pet names (cariño, sweetheart, hermosa), phrases in Spanish (no translations, sorry), mentions of reader wearing a cross necklace (not a rosary or any religious reference, but adding it here in case anyone might be bothered by it), no use of y/n. I think that’s all.
a/n: been listening to lots of romeo santos lately and now we have bad bunny’s new album so expect some nasty works from me (as soon as I get a break from uni cause damn). This os is a bit rushed due to my lack of time, but I really wanted to post something, please excuse my mistakes<3
‘ Is it better to feel everything with great depth in comparison to feeling nothing at all? ’
Occasionally, you think it’ll be easier if you could simply turn your emotions off and walk away. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that you won't go back to him, somehow —every so often in the weirdest ways— he always ends up between your legs. On and off, like one torturous, yet perfect loop that keeps bringing you back together.
Although, you were never actually together.
Technicalities, right?
Things were said and done once you started frequenting each other's beds. Above all else, Javier had clearly specified that he didn't want any feelings involved in the matter (primarily due to his job, plus the dangers that came with it) and you had stupidly agreed to that condition. Because honestly, the main reason why you got involved with him in the first place was the way he made your heart flutter, how he could make your skin tingle just with a simple touch and get your knees weak solely by surrounding your personal space.
It was all in vain, nonetheless. He had it for you, too. Badly. Though his realization came hard and late. You stormed into his life and swiped away any thoughts of having an emotionless relationship; your innocent curiosity, the softness of your touch and the brightness in your eyes whenever you'd stare into his soul while being tangled with him all night, all of it somehow carved your way into his heart.
Even if you were already seeing someone else, trying to move on, he'd still be all over you; chasing after you as if having all your attention was some sort of personal whim of his. The worst part? You'd give in every single time, surrendering yourself to him after putting up little to none resistance.
"Javier, this needs to stop..." were your words actually meaningful if you uttered them between kisses?
His hands coast up your thighs, delicately rubbing the flesh as his lips roamed along your jawline. "Why?" he sighed, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
"Why?" you mimic him, propping your weight up with both palms to his chest, slightly pushing him back. "You fucking know why."
The agent straightens his posture on the backseat of his jeep, forcing you to readjust your position on top of him. He takes a deep gulp of air whilst staring up at you with low, darkened eyes.
One thing was crystal clear: he had you right where he wanted you. His aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head, crowning his messy hair; the black shirt was ruffled from you tugging at it, a couple of buttons loose. His unsteady breathing and plump lips almost made him appear needy, if it weren't for the firm grip he had on your upper legs and the wide hunger his gaze reflected. Your yellow sundress had ranked up your thighs and the denim material of his jeans felt a tad uncomfortable beneath you. All that could be heard inside the car –parked somewhere next to an incautious road– was the storm happening outside and a song they were playing on the radio.
"Oh, yeah..." he chuckled sardonically. "I forgot I'm now your boy toy."
There was a bittersweet note on his voice despite the joking tone. "Shut up, asshole. It's not like I was ever anything different to you."
He muffled a laugh, his fingertips lingering on your feverish skin. The air inside the car was cold, contrasting with the warm heat of your bodies. Javier couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation; about how you couldn't believe that you meant anything more than a sweet time to him, when in reality, the few moments you spent together were the only ones where he could feel genuine joy. His hand comes up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
"You think very low of me, preciosa." Oh, if only he knew.
"I wish I did. That would surely make things easier." He shakes his head, holding back laughter.
"Does he know?" your brows knit together in confusion, shocked by the sudden question and the mention of the other guy.
"Know what?" you asked with a quizzical expression.
His big palm lowers to your neck, the other one sneaking under the hem of your dress, all the way up to your hip and setting on your lower back. "About me."
You tsked, rearranging the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure there's anything he needs to know about you, Peña."
He smirks, charming as ever. "How about the reason why you keep coming back to me?" The pads of his fingers rub soothing circles along your spine, all the while his eyes swallow you whole. "I don't mind being second in line as long as your frontman knows how to treat you properly."
"You're talking nonsense," you run your hands through his locks, brushing the hair out of his face. "You think you're any better?"
"Oh, cariño. I know I am." If it weren't for the confidence in his voice –as if he spoke freely and unquestionably–, you'd probably be laughing. "I'm sure everyone knows." His index and middle fingers trace your collarbones in light, feathery touches and slowly slide down your chest, avoiding the chain around your throat. "And if he doesn't, be sure to tell him."
A shiver runs throughout your body when his thumb sweeps across your sensitive nipple over the flimsy fabric of your dress. The hand on your lower back moves to press you firmly against him, grinding your lower body on top of his and pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.
"Javi..." you can't muster up the words nor the courage to push him away before he's kissing all over your neck and shoulders. "God, you're insufferable."
He chuckles, and the sound is not only attractive but contagious, plastering a smile on your face. The thin straps of your dress slide down your arms, making your boobs nearly spill out the front, though neither of you actually care. Both his hands squeeze your ass as he buries his face between your breasts, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin. That, he thought, was something you probably wouldn't want the other guy to see.
You unconsciously started searching for friction, moving your hips in tandem to relieve some of the increasing ache that settled between your thighs. You sighed when his mouth started peppering kisses all over your exposed tits, giving special attention to your hardened nipples. He knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it, your favorite spots and positions; all he needed to do to have you trembling, screaming and begging for more... He knew everything and he boasted on it.
"Oh, you really love me," he mumbles, voice strained with lust as you keep rubbing yourself against him, using him just like he enjoyed best. "Don't you, corazón?"
You pull his hair harshly, forcing him to look at you in the eye, the chain of your necklace colliding against his chin. The gruffly groan that leaves his lips goes straight to your core. Javier loved it when you were a little mean and bossy; it amused him.
"I like you better when you're quiet," you hiss, kissing all over his jaw and licking a long stripe along his throat, taking your time on his Addams' apple and the spot between his neck and shoulder. That, added to the constant, leisured movement of your body against his crotch, had him panting and grunting in seconds.
The sight of pleasure contorting his features as he completely loses himself and starts bucking his hips upwards has you dripping and clenching around nothing. "Fucking lier," he spits out, "you love it when I'm noisy."
He was right, as per usual. But you decided to ignore it. "I'd like you more if you weren't such a cocky bastard. Tal vez así no tendría que buscarme a otro."
A wolfish grin purses his lips and his eyes gleam smugly, "Necia y mentirosa. You're every man's dream."
You lean forward to kiss the crook of his nose, feeling his strong arms enveloping you, guiding your movements just as you both liked best. Your lungs fill with air and you grasp the back of the seat, feeling a certain tension building in the pit of your stomach each time the right amount of pressure was applied to your clit. Javier relished on the way he could make a complete mess of you without even having you naked, his cock twitching in his pants with the mewls that left you; having you all hot and bothered prompted his own excitement.
"Everyone's..." your breath fanned across his cheek as you ducked down towards him, lips so close to each other’s that he could already feel the ghost of their touch on his mouth. "But yours."
If you really believed that, then you were ragingly clueless, for he knew deep down that he'd go to wit's end and back just for you to be happy.
"Especially mine, sweetheart." He doesn't let you reply, swiftly catching your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
It ignited something within you that could only grow bigger and stronger, like a forest fire. An intense feeling that settled in your loins and expanded throughout your body with every touch and every single kiss. It was melting your bones and fogging your brain deliciously. His hand rested on the nape of your neck to hold you close as his mouth explored yours in depth, meanwhile the other slid between your bodies to palm your clothed sex, wet with your arousal.
"Fuck..." he gasps amidst, gliding his index and middle fingers across the soaked fabric, spurring you on.
Despite the fact that he'd done this a dozen times before, the way you'd easily give in to him would always do it for Javier. Your sweet whimpers and ragged breaths were his own sort of addiction, the moans that escaped your lips when moving your panties aside made all his blood rush towards his lower body.
His fingers gather the slick around your entrance and then brings them back to your clit, teasing it with slow, circular motions. He takes his time to play with you, refusing to thrust his fingers in your core and only managing to get you wetter and more desperate by the second, toying with your patience. The moment you try to wriggle, his grip becomes stronger to keep you still, digging his fingertips so strongly that it'll definitely bruise afterwards. At this point you can feel your own arousal smearing on your inner thighs and dripping down his jeans.
"Don't be mean, Peña..." you mumble in complain, your hands wandering over his chest, struggling to keep your mind on track.
"Beg for it," he whispers in your ear. "Be nice and I'll do as you say."
You bite your lower lip to hold back your noises while his fingers drift across your slit. "Please..." you kiss the soft spot behind his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin. "Javi, por favor..."
He hums lowly, pressing his middle and index fingers to your entrance at the same time as he shushes your moans with a kiss. His mouth is all over yours, his tongue running along your lower lip before going past your teeth. You can barely breathe, the feeling of his digits inside you and the sloppy kiss had your head spinning. You're certain that if it wasn't for the rain or the music in the radio you'd definitely be able to hear the sopping sounds of him working on your pussy. Javier curses when your head draws back, not wanting to part from you, the sweet aftertaste of the kiss still lingering on his tongue.
The leather material of the seats cracked each time you moved, and the crystals were starting to mist up from the shock of temperatures. Despite the windows being polarized, the blue, kind of grayish light of today's twilight shone beautifully on your glowing skin, leaving him absolutely mesmerized.
"Do you ever show him this side of you?" he mutters hoarsely, watching you from below as you shut your eyes and claw at his shirt, feeling his thick fingers curling inside, stretching you open. "Does he touch you like I do?" He's quick to find your weak spot and hit it repeatedly, slow and steady at first, bringing back his wet digits to your swollen bud. "Can he fuck you like I do? Please you like I do?"
You shake your head in denial, panting and unable to form any coherent sentences. The warmth between your legs started spreading throughout your belly, thighs quivering and waves of pleasure washing over you.
"Use your words," he coaxes, burying his face on your neck to inhale your perfume, the one that's all over him, his clothes and sheets; like you were marking him as yours. The familiar tickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin, added to the heat and the well-known thickness of his dick underneath you doesn't fail to make your body waver.
"N-no..." you stumble upon your words, "he can't. No one else can... Sólo tú."
"Mhm," Javier kisses your jaw lovingly, the feeling of his chest flushed to yours pushing you over the edge. In that moment, he just knows you're close by the way your cheeks heat up and your brows furrow, as well as how you start squeezing his fingers. "You can come now."
And he didn't need to tell you twice, for you were already falling apart, tugging at his hair and struggling to catch your breath. His hand leaves the apex of your thighs and starts caressing the smooth skin of your back, giving you chills from the dampness of his fingertips. You lay your forehead against his, and with your eyelids hanging low you press a soft kiss to his temple. For a while, you just stay like that in silence, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist and listening to a bolero song playing through the car speakers.
Javier's heart thumps against his ribs whilst the beat reverberates through you in a constant tempo. His natural musk dazes your mind; a mix of cigarettes, fresh soap and manly cologne. The intimacy of everything suddenly sinks in and your lungs swell with all the contained love you had for him, crushing you under its weight. You can't let it crawl back to you, knowing you have to keep it well buried within your bones. 
"Javi..." you purr, lips grazing his ear. "I need you."
"Yeah?" his coarse voice makes you shudder. "I'll take care of you, cariño."
You reluctantly break apart form his embrace and, with a playful smile, you decide to take his sunglasses off, carefully tossing them to the passenger's seat. He appeared invested in your game, his prying eyes following your every move. Then, you suddenly grabbed the hem of your sundress with both hands and took it off in a quick move, discarding it somewhere on the floor and leaving you solely in your tiny, ruined underwear and golden necklace. The man in front of you couldn't be any more swoon over your naked body, his brown eyes now blackened with desire.
"Mi niña hermosa," he coed.
Your smile widened as his palm covered the curve of your waist. It's almost as if he's never seen you like this; though the image of your bare skin is something he could never tire of, your beauty being something he'd describe as ethereal, if he were the artistic or poetic type— which he wasn't.
"You're staring," you say, feeling his free hand coming to grope your breast.
"I'm admiring," Javier replies with a grin, thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. "You're a menace, d'you know that? This body and that face of yours... Engañarían a cualquiera." The cool metal of his watch gave you chills when you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. "No one would believe that you let me fuck you senseless in the back of my car."
You giggle at his words, starting to spread kisses on his knuckles, "People would think you've corrupted me."
The pads of his fingers gently pull your lower lip, the same two digits that were previously inside you. He doesn't need to vocalize what he wants you to do, since you immediately pick up on it. Your mouth opens up steadily, allowing him to press both fingers to your tongue. With no hesitation, you eagerly begin to suck and lick at them without breaking eye contact, his heavy gaze looking at you fixedly.
"Perhaps I have," he murmurs rasps out, brushing the hair away from your face with an uncharacteristic delicate demeanor.
Frankly, you are incapable of conceiving how can he have so much power over you, your actions and thoughts. The way he peers at you with close scrutiny and sincere devotion makes you feel like a woman, in all sense of the word. He's aware of it and is not afraid to demonstrate it, to be at your mercy. And it only made you want him more.
You desperately tug at his belt while he drags his fingers from your lips to your chin and neck, letting you do all the hard work. There's an arrogant attitude to him as he merely 'admires' but doesn't go anywhere near as to putting any effort into it; he wants you to work for it, have your fun with him as you please and then let him show you why no other man can reach his level. He’s very aware of the fact that he's the only man whose dick you'd beg to have inside and he wallows in that knowledge, like a bragging child.
"Shit, Javier..." you fumble with his fly, silently pleading for his help while he absentmindedly kneads at your flesh, enjoying the show you're putting on for him. "Work with me, please."
"Anxious, aren't we?" he scoffs, taking your wrist to place your hand on his crotch. "What do you want, cariño?"
"A ti, Javi," the feeling of his cock throbbing at your confirmation only reaffirms how much he loves it when you verbally express your desires. "I want you."
Both his palms rest on your shoulder blades and his face gets closer to yours before talks again, "Then fucking take me."
His voice gave you butterflies and the way he spoke went straight to your core. A muffled moan vibrates in your chest when you reach for the base of his neck and pull him in for an aggressive, frenetic kiss. It's a blur of actions, a clash of tongues and teeth that happens at the same time as your hand sinks to his lower abdomen, swaying over the trail of hair that runs down his mound, with a touch so light that it makes his knees feel like jelly. The warmth and softness of your palm against his length pulls a groan deep from his throat, finally getting to release some of his pent-up tension and get the attention he's been craving from you.
You swipe your thumb across his swollen tip, surprised by the amount of precome that is dribbling and how easy it becomes to stroke him. Javier gasps at the contact, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to breathe. Just like him, you know exactly what he finds most pleasurable. You know his body as well as you know his mind; his pet-peeves and favorites. So freaking close, and yet— so, so incredibly far from his grasp.
"Cariño," he calls out your name in a languid drawl, clutching to your waist, "don't tease."
"Mhm," you're accustomed to the thickness of him, how heavy and long he is. However, it's always nice to feel how easily riled up he gets because you. "Not so fun when it's done to you, is it?" you purposely trace the vein on the underside of his dick and he snarls through gritted teeth, an unrestrained sound that makes you throb.
"Fucking hell-" the chocolate brown in his eyes is entirely consumed by the pitch black of his dilated pupils.
You drag your index along his jawline, slightly lifting his chin to square his gaze with yours. "Come on, big boy. Lift your hips so I can do this properly."
He can't help but laugh. "What now?" he snarks, doing as you say, nonetheless. "You're gonna talk me trough it?"
The man pulls his pants down just enough to give him the sufficient mobility. You don't have the patience to reply to his mockery, though you're sure he'd love it if you did so. Instead, he pushes your panties aside as much as the fabric permits and you glide the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your arousal and the remains of your previous orgasm. His hands are still on your hips but they're simply resting there, giving you the freedom to do as you want.
With a firm grip, you carefully guide him to your entrance and sink down his length, drawing a sharp whine from your lips and a low, depraved moan from him. The stretch he provides always manages to send your mind into oblivion, filling you up so good, to the extent that makes you believe no one ese could fit your body so perfectly. Your mouth falls agape and you clasp his shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded; beads of sweat started rolling down your neck and his temples when you rested your forehead against Javier's, eyes kept firmly shut.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks once you'd manage to sit every last inch of him deep inside you. "Want me to move?"
You shake your head 'no', gazing back at him to meet his preoccupied expression. "I'll do it," you stammer through the haze of rapture. "There's something I want to try."
His brows furrow in genuine confusion and a tad of concentration, but nods either way. Both his palms lay flat on your ass cheeks as you throw your head back and start moving at a leisured pace, biting your bottom lip and tangling your fingers in between his damp curls. You ride him like it's your first time doing so; grinding slowly and calculatedly, barely bouncing and more like swaying your hips rhythmically, feeling his cock nudge that particular spot that has your thighs trembling.
"Fuck-" Javier inhales heavily, using his strong hands to guide your movements without a change of cadence. "Look at you, sweetheart," he coos, his thumb grazing your clit in a very delicate manner that makes you yelp softly, "you look so pretty when you take it."
A wave of heat pools at the base of your spine, prompting you to tug at his hair. "Jesus Christ- you feel amazing..."
Your fingers slither upwards to pinch your nipple, adding to the slick between your legs. He grunts in annoyance, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, ducking his head down to fondle the sensitive area with his tongue. The sounds that leave your mouth have an immediate effect on him, thrusting his hips further into you involuntarily. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as he meets your rhythm with an intensity that makes you dizzy.
"Such sweet noises you make," he praises in between shaky moans. "Oh, fuck-" is followed by a string of curses in spanish, sounding akin to a growl when you clench around him, leaking onto his shaft. "My perfect girl."
Your hands are never steady, roaming across his clothed back, chest and scalp. His on the other hand, hold onto you like his life depended on it— the fervor of it all, the way you call his name as you bear down on his cock and engulf him in your arms is borderline intoxicating. He lays his forehead on your shoulder, overwhelmed by just how good everything feels.
And that awakes something in you. Javier is not the quiet, laid-back kind of lover. Though he does let you take the lead from time to time, he's never surrendered himself to you like he is right now; panting and whimpering beneath you, murmuring adorations against your skin. And it's so hot for some unknown reason. It makes your pussy a dripping mess.
"Javi, look at me," you pull his hair with mild force and he consequently throws his head back, darting his eyes up to meet your stare. The way you keep bouncing on his length makes the dangling cross on your chain hit his chin continuously. None of you actually care. "D'you think I ever do this for him?"
He doesn't answer, but the grip on your waist tightens and his brows knit together. Then, he shakes his head faintly, "No."
Your thighs are starting to feel sore, but you pay no mind to it, still too drunk on the feeling of fullness, the ravishing sensation of his dick stretching you open and hitting all your weak spots effortlessly. "That's right," you pant, pressing your cheek to his temple. "Only you."
He rubs his nose on the side of your face and you can feel the all-too-familiar scratch of his mustache on your flush skin. You breathe him in, his soft hair smelling of sandalwood shampoo. "Only me," he echoes in a gruff, possessive note.
Suddenly, his pace starts picking up and you feel unable to keep up with him, this new sensation nearly making you cry out in euphoria. Javier moves his head enough to press a sweet kiss to your jaw and you glance down at his lips before going back to his lust-blown eyes. His calloused fingers glide to form tight, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he keeps steadily working on your cunt; he muffles your moans with a mere brush of lips that leaves you longing for more.
You cup his face in your hands and lean forward to connect your mouths once again. It's slow at first, filled with fluttering emotions that come bubbling up your chest. You melt in his embrace, your bodies melding together as you explore each other. It's deep and passionate but still controlled; filled with a profound earnest that expresses all that cannot be said between you, but that is throughly felt.
The sensation is positively dazzling, making your heartbeat race like you just ran a marathon. The heat gathers on your lower stomach again, starting to build your second crescendo. His cock throbs inside you when your nails scratch his scalp and the kiss becomes sloppier– wetter. But it isn't the only thing that is. Javier smirks against your lips when he can no longer just feel your slick, but rather hear it too. Each time he snaps his hips, the lewd sounds of your pussy drown any other noise around. It eggs him on.
"Mírate," he forces you to look down at where you're connected and the vision is nothing but obscene. The whole scene being a glistening, sticky mess. "I've truly ruined you for anyone else."
You don't retort, your senses beginning to cloud with every single thrust. You desperately cling to his shirt, your knuckles going numb as he keeps his relentless pace. Faster, harder, deeper. He can tell you're close by the way you wrap around him, how you can't hold back your cries and drop your lips next to his ear.
"Javi, I can't..." you stutter as he soothingly runs his fingers through your hair and your vision becomes blurry.
"It's okay, you've been so good," when he speaks, his voice sounds contorted by his own high overpowering him. "Come for me, baby. I've got you."
And that's all it takes for the coil to finally snap. Your body shivers from head to toe and you go completely limp in his embrace. Your whole world is spinning, feeling slightly lightheaded as your orgasm washes over you. Javier fucks you through it, thrown over the edge by your reaction. He feels your teeth sink mildly into the flesh of his neck and all of the sudden everything in his life comes down to this very moment; all he can perceive, all he knows and cares about right now is you.
As pleasure rushes over him, he whimpers, his hips start to falter and a couple of filthy moans scratch the bottom of his throat. You call his name softly, his head falling back as he reaches his high. He comes in warm, thick spurts inside, coating your walls and spilling from your entrance whilst he works his way through his climax. An odd sense of serendipity overcomes the satisfaction that settles within him when his lungs fill with air and his heartbeat stabilizes slowly.
He hears you murmuring sweet nothings to him, feels your warm, velvety lips spreading kisses on every inch of skin that you can reach. He feels shaky, peaceful and weirdly alive. Your image surges again in front of him, making his chest swell; that characteristic guilt beginning to creep into his system. Deep down, he knows he can't keep doing this to you— holding you back, tying you to him. Though it wasn't entirely his fault.
"¿Qué piensas?" you wonder, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
Confused, you attempt to move and give him some space, but he cradles you in his arms, keeping you close. Your feel sticky with sweat and his spend dripping down your inner thighs; yet, strangely safe at the same time, letting his cock grow soft inside you.
"I don't..." he talks gently, not directly to you. "I don't wanna let you go."
There's vulnerability in his words, in the way he holds you. "You don't have to."
That's not what I mean, he wants to say. Instead, Javier leaves a tender kiss on your forehead. Push me away. Please, push me away. But you don’t do as he prays for, to his dismay.
“I guess not,” he mutters. “But it’s getting late and I want to take you home before nightfall.”
You reluctantly roll to your side, wincing from the sense of emptiness that comes with the action. “I suppose it’s for the best. I’m going out for dinner tonight, anyway.”
He playfully cocks an eyebrow at you, “With him?” you nod distractedly, taking a box of tissues from the Jeep’s glovebox. “Shit, I might need to fuck you again. Make sure you’re really satisfied and full of my cum when you’re prancing around him.”
You smile, carefully rearranging your clothes. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time.”
In the end, no matter how either of you feel or whatever may happen in the near future, one thing is very certain: you won’t stay apart for long.
156 notes · View notes
dykealloy · 1 month
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Rec list please ✍️🏻
(with tropes and just a smidge of reason why the media is recommended <- both very optional of course)
oh boy. okay. Confession time, I've watched a ridiculous number of shows out of east Asia so this is a good opportunity to share some faves from recent memory. If there's going to be one running through-line with these recs it's that I love character-driven narratives which explore interesting interpersonal relationships (socio-cultural commentary is a plus).
In no ranked order, here's my top ten:
Hamster running the emotional gamut wheel (well-written stories about grief, closure and family)
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Move to Heaven (2021) Korea, 10 episodes, Netflix Summary: Han Geu-ru is an autistic 20-year-old who works for his father’s business “Move To Heaven”, a company that specializes in crime scene cleanup, where they collect and arrange items left by the deceased and deliver them to the bereaved family. When Geu-ru's father dies, his guardianship passes to his uncle, ex-convict and underground MMA fighter Cho Sang-gu. Per the father's will, Sang-gu must care for and work with Geu-ru for three months to gain full guardianship and claim the inheritance. Eying money, Sang-gu agrees to the conditions and moves in.
This show knows exactly what it is and executes with excellent writing and characterisation. While it does have an overarching narrative, Move to Heaven is structured so that you're exploring a different person's story each episode, so it has a lot of flexibility to explore themes of grief and closure through different lives and relationships, and when I tell you this show can hit emotional beats... (<- may or may not have cried through most episodes on my first watch-through. Emotional terrorism). These stories are really beautifully portrayed and though there are effective comedic beats, there's this clear authenticity in not needing to undercut or distance oneself from the vulnerability of the subject matter.
Geu-ru and his uncle (Sang-gu) add a lot of needed levity, with Geu-ru's need for consistent, structured, methodical routines constantly clashing with Sang-gu's chaotic and combative approach to life. Sang-gu's character arc (though predictable) is just so satisfying. It's kinda hilarious seeing Geu-ru (and his father by extension) inadvertently poke more and more holes in Sang-gu's initial plan of "take the money and run" the deeper he incorporates himself into the space and purpose that his brother once took up, and it's very heartwarming to see these polar opposites slowly develop a respect and appreciation for one another.
Tropes: reluctant to responsible parental figure, tear-jerker
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Oh No! Here Comes Trouble (2023) Taiwan, 12 episodes, GTV and iQIYI Summary: Pu Yi-yong was a typical 17-year-old student with a passion for drawing and a hereditary talent for calligraphy. After he wakes up from a bus accident that claimed his father's life and left him in a coma for two years, a 19-year-old Yi-yong must now find his place in the world again. This becomes more complicated when spirits begin approaching him and asking for his help.
This show actually has a lot of similarities to Move to Heaven e.g. exploring different side-stories each episode, focus on victims forgotten by society (the lonely, the homeless, the outcasts and the minorities), themes of grief and closure, polar opposite characters learning to work together, breaking me emotionally at some point. But Oh No! Here Comes Trouble differs in tone (distinct directing style), quirky humour (Taiwanese comedic style is just different and I love it in this show) and presentation (urban fantasy/mystery).
Yi-yong might be one of my all time favourite characters in media. From the outset he presents as this classic, one-dimensional, grumpy delinquent teen (e.g. resting-bitch-face syndrome, scrappy mullet, academically behind, no social grace and a tendency to accidentally hit people in the face with softballs). As fun as that is, the more you watch, the more this show challenges these assumptions. Yi-yong's mum (also an A+ character, god I love her) is a hairdresser, and often uses Yi-yong as her stylistic guinea pig. Yi-yong's not super intelligent, but he's compassionate (albeit at times reluctantly so). He really listens when people talk to him, whether they're trying to comfort him, give him advice, or asking him for assistance (though he often questions and expresses frustrations about his own ability to help other people). There's a humble gentleness to him.
Yi-yong was already struggling to juggle his dreams of becoming a comic artist with the practicalities of his life before he fell into a coma, then he woke up two years later, having completely missed the perceived "pivotal juncture" associated with the transition from youth to adulthood. Time moved on, and so have his peers, leaving an almost 20-year-old Yi-yong lost at sea with no paddle, no map and grieving the loss of his father. And now he has supernatural beings approaching him and insisting that he is the key to settling their unfinished business. To Yi-yong (and to popular east-asian social standards), Yi-yong is a loser. He's academically unintelligent, has no clear aspirations or discipline or future prospects, his family is far from wealthy, he's got zero social status, smarts or rank. Yi-yong is just as much of a forgotten outcast to society as these spirits are.
He does eventually get assistance in the form of Chen Chuying - a junior police officer (helping substantially with the mystery investigation side of things) and Cao Guangyan - former one-sided rival schoolmate and current med student who coincidentally moves next door (initially maintains the outsider perspective of Yi-yong as a hooligan until they get to know each other a little better, by which point Guangyan is already helping Yi-yong get back on his feet) who form a very well-rounded, loveable cast.
I wish I could talk more about this show, I am very fond of it. Please do watch it and if anyone wants to discuss it my dms are open.
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Tropes: ragtag trio of idiots, urban fantasy, mystery, tear-jerker, reluctant hero
Get your pussy up get your money up (life is giving lemons and survival is the name of the game)
Honourable mentions here: Yeon Sang-ho popped off with Train to Busan in 2016 and South Korea has been throwing bangers into one of my favourite genre pools ever since. If you're interested in more zombie series I would strongly recommend checking out All of Us are Dead (2022), Happiness (2021), Sweet Home (2020) and Kingdom (2019).
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A Shop for Killers (2024) Korea, 8 episodes, Netflix Summary: Jeong Ji-An tragically loses her parents as a young girl. Her reserved and mysterious estranged uncle, Jeong Jinman, acts as her sole guardian and care-taker, raising her with tough love and a survivalist mindset until she leaves for university. One day, Jung Ji-An hears that her uncle has suddenly passed away, and returns home, where she learns the truth behind her uncle's business and by extension, her past.
Ji-An is locked inside a building with no communication with the outside world, nowhere to go, and with assassins after her head (not ideal). Unbeknownst to Ji-An though, her late uncle Jinman prepared a thorough defense system for this very event, setting her up with home-terf advantage and a very dangerous fortress against this army.
Ji-An and Jinman's story is told mainly through flashbacks as Ji-An attempts to survive the raid on their home. Their dynamic is definitely a repeat of the stoic, initially cold father-figure type "I am neither your mum or your dad, and I can never be" to the orphan child that we've been seeing more recently of late. I'm not mad about it. It's a good formula. I won't go into the type of person Jinman is, or the nature of his work/business. Going in blind and slowly figuring this out with Ji-An was a big plus in terms of the viewing experience for me.
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Tropes: reluctant parental figure, home alone antics
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D.P. (2021) Korea, 12 episodes, Netflix Summary: Ahn Junho is enlisted to serve in the South Korean Army as part of his national service obligations. He eventually goes to the Army's Military Police. While getting used to life in the MP, Junho's street smarts lands him in the D.P. (Deserter Pursuit) unit. Junho is assigned with Corporeal Han Hoyeol to capture deserters, revealing the painful reality endured by each enlistee during their compulsory duty.
imo D.P.'s is at its most enjoyable when Junho and Hoyeol are working as detectives with limited time and resources. Hoyeol's presence especially adds needed levity. He's like the show's own eccentric little court jester (at least until season 2, where he becomes the show's own tortured little court jester). You don't know how much you're missing Hanyeol until he shows up and you're finally given some space to breathe.
This show's gotten a lot of praise for its realistic social commentary around the vicious cycle of bullying, hazing practices, corruption and abuse within the South Korean military. It's well written and fast-paced, and it definitely doesn't pull its punches. I probably wouldn't recommend this show were it not for the quality of its writing, its ability to balance the depressing subject matter with pockets of dark comedy and everyone's favourite dynamic duo Junho and Han Hoyeol. All the content warnings for this one.
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Tropes: ptsd, abuse, brotherhood, idk man straight up not having a good time
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Weak Hero Class (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki Summary: Straight-A student and loner Yoon Sieun utilizes his wits and tools to defend himself from a boys school full of shit-heads. He slowly warms up to Ahn Sooho, the school's strongest fighter, and Oh Beomseuk, the new transfer Student.
Sieun is here to answer the age-old philosophical question: "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit?" Even though Sieun is physically lacking, he's very capable of baring his teeth and using his smarts to fight like hell. It's so cathartic to finally see a short, weak, bullied protagonist willing to go violently feral upon provocation.
This show's tone can get pretty dark and surprisingly violent. The true core behind why a lot of people love this show is Sieun and Sooho's friendship. Sieun starts off as a grumpy, glaring, withdrawn hermit with no interest in anything that isn't studying (honestly idk how Sieun keeps finding himself in these situations like. All the kid ever wanted was to hit the books). I won't spoil too much, but watching as Sooho slowly peels away that protective shell Sieun encases around himself is a thing of beauty. I strongly recommend you give the first episode a go (free on youtube).
Tropes: angst, bromance, badass bookworm, adults are useless, abusive parents
Detectives smashing you over the head repeatedly with gay subtext (not explicitly gay but if you have a brain and any semblance of a gaydar that thing is going to be going off like a geiger counter next to the elephant foot)
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The Devil judge (2021) Korea, 16 episodes, Netflix and Viki Summary: Set in a dystopian version of present-day South Korea, the world is bereft of law and order and the court justice process has become like a reality tv show. Head Trial Judge Kang Yohan mercilessly punishes the guilty and corrupt, earning him the "Devil Judge" monicker. As bitter rivalry takes shape between Yohan and the highly ambitious Jung Sun-ah, who has risen from poverty to become a corporate social responsibility foundation director. Into this turbulent world enter two childhood friends on a mission for true justice and determined to discover the secret Yohan is hiding: rookie judge Kim Gaon and detective Yoon Su-hyun.
The Devil Judge tackles the concept of the anti-hero (battling evil with evil) and questions why these figures are idolized by the public. It also challenges the naive faith in the rule of law and whether or not the established systems should be upheld or not. The screenwriter has however made it very clear that he focused way more on the relationship between the characters than conveying his own message and boy oh boy is that reflected in whatever Yohan and Gaon have got going on (serious come-hither eyes, gratuitous physical touch, themes of power, justice and corruption, Yohan pressing Gaon up against the nearest hard surface on at least four separate occasions, etc.).
Kang Yohan, the titular anti-hero/main protagonist operates within a failed state and a corrupted judiciary. To a certain extent he knows the self-destructive path he walks is doomed to fail, but to right the system and take revenge, he's on the lookout for a someone that can out him as the Devil and become the messiah that Yohan himself cannot be. It does come off as very "anime" at times (theatrical presentation, tragic backstories, bad writing when it comes to women, naive characters and overly dramatic tone) but hey, if you have very few qualms with that, chances are you're going to have a blast.
Also the OST for this show absolutely fucks. It has no right being this good. Jung Se Rin really popped off. I have Enemy of Truth as a staple in a lot of my playlists.
Tropes: idealist vs jerkass pragmatist, anti-hero/vigilante, whump
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The Worst of Evil (2023) Korea, 12 episodes Summary: Set in the 1990s, a former DJ starts selling a new powerful drug. Since the police know little about its origin, rural police officer Park Junmo is assigned to go undercover and infiltrate the criminal empire responsible for the drug trade between Korea, Japan, and China. Junmo later discovers that his wife, Yoo Euijung, also a detective, has volunteered to participate in this dangerous mission and seems to have a past with the underground drug king (and Junmo's boss), Jung Gicheul. The deeper Junmo entrenches himself as Gicheul's subordinate, the more unrecognisable he becomes to those closest to him.
Junmo could have let Gicheul die or slip away like several times in a row, indicates he has zero idea why he does this, then says the line verbatim "I look up to him and I like him and my body follows my heart". What am I supposed to take away from this. This show has everything. Early 90s homoerotic cigarette lighting, sodomy, incredible cinematography, betrayal, close-ups of Junmo's bloody face squished up against Gicheul's thigh. There's some scenes where Junmo is looking at both his wife and Gicheul framed in the same shot like the goddamn camera is daring you to question who he is more jealous of. My biggest complaint is that there was quite literally no need for a wife-stealing plot - the most compelling, messiest gay situationship was right there for the taking.
In episode 9 post-gang war hallway-slaughter, a blood-soaked Junmo hops up onto a table on all fours with a knife between his teeth, locks eyes with Gicheul then proceeds to slash a man's achilles tendon and if you listen closely enough you'll hear me in the background screaming YOU HAVE BECOME HIS DOG. 10/10 watch this show.
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Tropes: mafia, undercover, bodyguard, make him worse, devotion and loyalty gone bad gone nuclear, maybe if they fucked nasty about it we wouldnt be in this mess
Beyond evil (2021) would also go here and has similar vibes to the above two, but I personally don't have much to say about it. Unhinged slutty old man, gay stuff going on over there, etc, etc. Citrinekay sums it up nicely here. Guardian (2018) would probably also go here. Definitely check these out if you enjoy/like the sound of these shows.
Lighthearted fun romance (I am not escaping the lesbian fujoshi accusations)
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Cherry Magic (2020) Japan, 12 episodes Summary: Adachi is a salaryman with low confidence and a tendency for self-deprecation, resulting in him often acting awkward around others, not being sure how to assert himself in the workplace, and constantly comparing himself to the company's golden boy - Kurosawa. Things become further complicated when Adachi finds out after his thirtieth birthday that he has suddenly gained the magical power to hear people's thoughts if he touches them. Adachi struggles with his newfound touch telepathy when he accidentally discovers Kurosawa is in love with him.
Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard!? (Yes that is the full title, Japan you are killing me) is very sweet and wholesome and the humour hits and I believe in Kurosawa Yuichi supremacy. I know self-deprecating characters can be a downer for some people but Adachi comes off as very relatable and seeing him slowly gain more confidence in himself and his abilities is heartwarming. Great serotonin-booster. If you find this show's premise interesting there's a high likelihood you will enjoy it.
I didn't care so much for the second couple but if you're like me it's easy to skip through these scenes (you won't be missing anything).
Tropes: office romance, telepathy, pining
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Semantic Error (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki and Netflix (region-dependent) Summary: Cho Sangwoo is the epitome of an inflexible and strict rule-abiding person. When talented graphic design major Jaeyoung discovers Sangwoo is the cause for his delayed university graduation, he sets out to take revenge (by becoming Sangwoo's biggest, brightest daily annoyance). Jaeyoung finds himself in hot water when he inadvertently develops a crush, and junior computer science major Sangwoo is about to encounter some serious errors in his usual programming.
This is a classic polar opposites attract story, with Jaeyoung the loud, extroverted, brash foil to Sangwoo's reserved, withdrawn, morally black-and-white, logic-first persona. As much fun as it is to see Sangwoo's ordered world thrown into chaos, it's equally enjoyable to witness Jaeyoung jump from being obsessively committed to annoying Sangwoo, to being whipped for him (and the subsequent difficulties this causes for Jaeyoung - a popular, attractive, talented, bi artist used to getting his way - in trying to pursue a highly irritated and emotionally closed-off Sangwoo, who is being challenged with a side of himself he hasn't had to grapple with up until now). Also Jaeyoung has an incredibly hot lesbian best friend which was great. for me specifically.
An entertaining, cohesive story with great actors who have fantastic chemistry. What more can you ask for?
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Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, university, pulling pigtails
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Old Fashion Cupcake (2022) Japan, 5 episodes Summary: At the critical juncture of a mid-life crisis, Nozue, a 39-year-old office worker, is stuck in the dull, mundane grind of wake, work, sleep. But due to his age, he's convinced he's well past the point he can take risks by trying something new. As such, he continues to decline promotions at his job and romantic advances from potential partners. He confides one day in his 29-year-old subordinate, Togawa, making an off-hand comment about a desire to be like a young girl - capable of feeling excitement and joy in life again. In an attempt to inspire him to move forward, Togawa suggests an "anti-aging experiment" and the two of them go on a journey together to help Nozue feel young again.
First things first - a large portion of Togawa's proposed "ant-aging technique" involves frequenting dessert cafes and restaurants that are catered towards a younger female demographic and fuck me the food in this show always looks so goddamn good.
The boss/employee thing might turn people away from giving this a shot but what I really love about this show is that despite being Nozue's subordinate (and younger than him - which is a bigger deal in Japan), Togawa is extremely blunt and unafraid to tell Nozue exactly what he thinks (so long as Togawa believes it will ultimately benefit Nozue in the long run), and it's very clear that he does this because he has a strong sense of respect for Nozue (and because spoilers - Togawa is so down bad for his boss like okay boy DAMN. Go get your esoteric old man). This show is also great at conveying emotion and inner conflict without dialogue (I've enjoyed coming back for a re-watch and picking up on little nuisances in Togawa and Nozue's behaviour that I missed the first time around).
Overall this is a very cute, very wholesome coming of age/queerness story that reminds you that it's never too late to pursue what interests you, try something new, and enjoy life while you're at it.
Tropes: fingers in his mouth friday, pining, age gap, office romance, food as a love language
That's it! If you want more recs from a genre hit up my inbox, I had a fun time pulling this together and have many more in the chamber where that came from.
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sezez · 4 months
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Throughout Poppy Playtime, the Protagonist is quite the mysterious character. But in Chapter 3, we get a bit more info on them. I find the Protagonist very interesting and I hope that MOB Games might give us a clear answer on them. (And I may sound stupid for saying this over and over, but I really want the Protagonist to have a voice so we can hear what they're thinking about all of this)
The Protagonist is employee who happens to look like a specific scientist/employee familiar to the toys:
It's by this point that the Protagonist might be a scientist or someone who knew about the experiments and came back to find the employees, but is now gonna help Poppy to redeem themselves.
But, I personally believe that the Protagonist was a normal employee, they didn't know about the experiments and only came back to search for the missing employees.
But you may say: "But the toys recognize the Protagonist." Or "There are clear signs that the Protagonist knew about the experiments."
To which I know and agree with. But if the Protagonist did knew about it all, then why bother to come back if they knew what the toys were capable of?
Anyone who knew that Huggy is alive is about to get the hell out of the factory the moment he disappeared. And yet the Protagonist didn't. (But maybe it's also because the door leading to the entrance closed itself, I keep noticing that while everyone else doesn't.)
Anyway, I also think that the Protagonist might look familiar to the experiments. Like the Protagonist's hairstyle is similar to a scientist, or their face looks like higher rank employee or perhaps is the way they're dressed. Just something about them looks familiar to every toy.
The toys are (un)welcoming the Protagonist back after leaving them:
During the nightmare, the Protagonist runs into a radio on the floor and it's saying something in reverse. This is what it said:
"8-8-1995. I find your presence intrusive. After all this time you've return, you come in here and yet you kill and murder. You pillage and destroy. Your presence was demanded 10 years ago and yet you didn't show up... 8-8-1995. You were suppose to be here, why weren't you here? You missed the event, you missed the meeting, you missed the party. You have no right to be here... 8-8-1995."
I believe this is Exp. 1006 talking to the Protagonist, he's mad that they weren't at the factory during The Hour of Joy on August 8, 1995 and got killed. And now the Protagonist is back and they're killing he's subordinates, ruining and interfering his plan.
And 1006 doesn't seem to be the only one who's mad, the other toys too. For example, Mommy Long Legs, she seems to hold a grudge against all employees of Playtime Co. and wants them to die.
Is the Protagonist really gonna help Poppy:
This has been on my mind for a bit, because I wonder if the Protagonist is gonna help Poppy just like that?
Poppy lied to the Protagonist about letting them escape and then the train crashed, hurting the Protagonist and getting dragged by Catnap to a crasher that could have killed them. And when the Protagonist and Poppy do reunite, she just left them on their own while she and Kissy Missy were above on the elevator, even though she literally said she was there to help.
And it's suspicious that the next destination Poppy leads the Protagonist to is deep below, where possible all of the dead bodies of the employees are.
Why would she lead the Protagonist there?
If the Protagonist is a employee who had zero idea about the experiments, then it's quite understandable for them to be angry at Poppy and not wanting to do any of this any longer because they just wanted to know what and where the other employees are, and the Protagonist got the answer, they're all dead. That's it, it's time for them to leave and never, ever come back.
If the Protagonist was a scientist who was involve in the experiments, then perhaps they're doing it because they feel guilty and want to redeem themselves. But if the Protagonist is actually evil, then they're just helping Poppy to cover up everything and possibly betraying Poppy in the process.
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