#well aware that some of this is probably me digging too deep for things that aren’t there but still!!! fun to look at

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Vash and Femininity: Trigun Stampede and its Themes of Bodily Autonomy, Exploitation, and Vague Gender Fuckery

alright sit the fuck down. we're gonna talk about THEMES

I was on Twitter- terrible idea usually, but a couple people I follow made some tweets that got me thinking about Trigun's overall themes, and here we are. So let's talk about some themes in Tristamp! And I'll take a couple looks at Trimax as well, just for fun :3

Let's look at how the showrunners utilize gender roles and exploitation of feminine characters to show how unhealthy Knives' obsession with his ideal of Vash is, and how horrific his exploitation of Vash and the Plants is.

Vash, from the beginning of Tristamp, is someone who cares about people's choices. When people kill others in front of him, he reiterates that whether someone lives or dies is not another person's choice to make. This is something he learned from Rem (a prominent female figure in his life). He refuses to kill people because that is not his choice to make. To kill someone is the ultimate removal of their bodily autonomy. They can no longer make any choices at all; they're dead.

Vash is also someone who has almost no choice in what path his life takes. He's constantly dragged around by outside forces, namely situations that are caused by Knives (which we'll get into later). Vash doesn't make things happen, things happen to Vash. The majority of events that occur are not his fault. He's pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. His entire life is completely out of his control.

This can be seen as early on in his life as the Fall, something he had no control over and had no idea he even had a part in. Even later, in the ship with Luida and Brad, after he's been rescued from the desert, he's kept in handcuffs right up until he's shown to be of use to them and the Plant on their ship. After that, he could theoretically say "no, I don't want to go to other ships and heal their plants," but he doesn't. He's Vash. He's helpful and nurturing at his core, and these people have done so much for him just by letting him stay, so he'll do whatever they ask, no question.

This carries over into his adulthood. At Jeneora Rock, he goes to look at their Plant at one simple request, doesn't protest when he's dragged into a duel-- he doesn't take initiative unless someone's life is immediately at stake. He lets people tell him what to do and lets himself get dragged around by the wrist. He doesn't even pretend to have control over his life like Trimax Vash does, which I mean. Fair. Why pretend to have a grip on your existence when it's impossible to do anything without a gun pointed at your head?

Vash is a very passive character. He's nurturing, kind, gentle- he's a guy that fits a lot of very typical feminine character stereotypes. If you wrote this same story but made him a woman, I wouldn't bat an eye (but I would definitely be looking at it a lot more critically, what with the amount of stereotypically nurturing/motherly female characters in media already.)

This contrasts directly with Knives. He makes a decision and carries through no matter what stands in his way. He takes initiative. If Vash is a passive character, Knives is an active character. Wherever he goes, he leaves a lasting imprint. He makes shit happen! If outside forces make things happen to him, he'll go out of his way to make sure that particular force doesn't affect him again.

These two tweets I saw are what got me thinking about this originally. I just feel like here's a good place to put them as a segue into talking about episode 11.

Episode 11 is where a lot of this feminine imagery really just. Explodes in your face. IT'S RIGHT THERE. You can't dance around it if you try. And it kind of reaches a peak when the connection reaches 100%, the gate opens, and. well. THIS happens to the Plants.

Plants, in both Trimax and Tristamp, are almost always typically feminine-looking. Knives and Vash are the only two who are male or even masculine at all. Knives, as the most masculine out of all of them, is the one trying to take charge, and mould the world as he sees fit, to a degree that is detrimental to both him and everyone else. And Vash-- passive, feminine, kind and nurturing, whose Angel Arm in the manga always sprouts decidedly feminine-looking Plant parts-- is the one being exploited for Knives' plans. It's no mistake that they made the giant plant formation at the end of ep 11 look like a giant woman that almost resembles Rem.

Vash wants people to make their own choices and keep their autonomy when it comes to their bodies and lives. Knives is the exact opposite. He wants all Plants to become independent and he uses Vash to achieve that goal, without asking what Vash wants or even knowing what the Plants themselves would prefer. He exploits Vash for the soul purpose of trying to make these Plants have Independent Plant babies. He's completely incapable of seeing that his choices are not for the greater good! He thinks he's saving them, but none of his actions are for the good of anyone but himself. He’s just violating them for his own gain.

They're really leaning into gender roles for these guys, but in a way that screams "HEY, LOOK AT THIS! ISN'T IT FUCKED UP? LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. LOOK AT THIS, AND BE UNCOMFORTABLE, AND KNOW THAT IT IS FUCKED UP."

Because it is! It's so extremely fucked up. They're using this imagery and these roles, something that makes most of us intrinsically uncomfortable, to drive home how unhealthy Knives relationship with his ideal of Vash is. That's the point. We're supposed to be uncomfortable with this.

Now of course there's some nuance to it. Like, you could see Knives as somewhat of a feminine and/or queer-coded figure as well, ESPECIALLY if you look at some of his panels in the manga, which could in turn lead to themes about infighting and control within marginalized communities, but that might be something for another post. :3

And there's definitely different ways you could take this! Vash, with all this feminine imagery, could be either transfem or transmasc coded, depending on what way you'd rather see it, which could lead into themes of how people outside the norm constantly face a lack of bodily autonomy and are exploited for purposes outside their boundaries. We could also look at Wolfwood and his lack of choice over joining the Eye of Michael and becoming the Punisher, and how masculine men (particularly men of colour) are often forced into violent roles against their will. If we look at Trimax, the exact same could be said for Livio/Razlo and people with disorders such as DID/OSDD.

There are many different ways you could spin these themes, some of which I don't feel personally qualified to discuss. If anyone who is qualified to talk about Wolfwood or Livio/Razlo or even other characters related to these themes, then god PLEASE add onto this post or make a post and tag me or something. I would love to read it!

Anyway, in conclusion: Vash is a feminine figure constantly taken advantage of and exploited and and he's so incredibly trans/nonbinary-coded that it drives me insane. Thank you

#whiskeys word soup #trigun #trigun stampede #HI. HELLO. THIS DRIVES ME INSANE PLEASE READ THIS #and seriously if anyone wants to make a post about wolfwood or livio/razlo or any other character exploring these themes of bodily autonomy #on GOD. lemme know i wanna read it #well aware that some of this is probably me digging too deep for things that aren’t there but still!!! fun to look at #what is media analysis other than putting on ur queer glasses and picking out trans allegories within stories #it’s been a while since I’ve made a full analysis essay kinda post!! this is how i normally format them bc it’s easier for me to read

[dragonsholygrail]

Beyond Desperation

Halsin Silverbough x Reader

a/n: Halsin and Astarion, my two main mans. I couldn’t not write something for Halsin. Some of the description may have gotten a little size kinky but dude is huge so it makes sense to me.

summary: After a particularly adrenaline endorsing fight ensues, Halsin needs desperately to feel close to you. His first course of action is to connect his body and soul with yours, replacing the aches of the fight with the aches of strenuous activities. Leading him to go a little bit overboard and apologize through vigorous after-care.

warning: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, biting, marking, body worship, light subspace, phenomenal after-care.

word count: 2.7k

It was due to a planned attack that started all of this. You had been there of course, fighting by his side. He had been particularly looking forward to it all day, his energy levels high despite his calm demeanor. You could tell having learned to read his body language and all the other things he never needed to speak aloud. Halsin was itching to help and frankly, so were you. Both of you aiming to look out for the natural order of things.

But then something happened that you probably both should’ve expected. In his excitement, Halsin had gone a bit too wild for a first turn of attack. After that, it wasn’t much longer until the entire fight was over and you all had clearly won. The other guys, while having gotten a few good hits in, couldn’t last long compared to Halsin’s stamina.

Afterwards, he went right to you, still overwhelmingly pent up from the very underwhelming experience of a fight. Checking to make sure you weren’t seriously injured. His heading straight for you was growing to be somewhat of a common occurrence. You tried not to look into it or think too deeply about it. You knew the way in which he cared for others. But that didn’t stop your heart from warming that he came right for you when becoming aware of his need. That he trusted you to be able to take care of him.

Though right now you were starting to feel a strange kindred bond that your opponents had with him. That's to say you were beginning to fear you too didn’t have the stamina to match up with Halsin. Your nails dig into Halsin’s stomach, bringing out a low growl from him as he helps you ride him into another orgasm for you both.

Like clockwork a hoarse scream is ripped from your throat as Halsin brings you to another one of your countless rippling climaxes. Your orgasm coats his cock just as your walls spasm around him and he groans, his eyes clouded over in a lust-filled daze. The only thing on his mind is bringing you to your peak once again, desperate to feel the way you clench around him as he empties himself inside of you. Desperate to see and feel your body as he gives you pleasure. Even as a puddle of your combined release soaks into the bedroom sheets of the local inn.

Your body convulses as sharp prickles erupt over your body from his deep thrusts and the beginnings of overstimulation. A whimper moves past your lips as you sag against Halsin’s broad warm chest, exhaustion falling over you after hours of euphoric bliss.

“You’ve done so well for me, dove. I knew you would,” Halsin’s low gravelly voice whispers along the shell of your ear as he leans down to your height. Your body twitches as he continues rocking into you though you can tell he’s restraining himself. Holding back from taking you again so soon after such an intense orgasm. You whine, burying your face in his neck as your hands trail up his overheated skin till they wrap into his hair. Both of you feeling needy for touch right now. For closeness and connection. “Sh, sh, sh. I’ve got you.”

“More Halsin, please,” you croak out, lips brushing along his raging pulse. Your hips start to move with his and your jaw drops, feeling the burn as his thick girth continues to stretch and split you open. But Halsin’s hands are right there on your ass, pushing himself inside you. Your body warps into him, a long mewl leaving you. But just as you think it’s about to get so good again, Halsin’s hands tighten, keeping himself firmly planted in your walls.

“Relax, it’s alright. Take your time. I know you got one more in you and I’m not going anywhere,” Halsin’s voice is a low rumble that vibrates against your skin as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. Your body still shakes but you’re itching to move, to keep him stuffing you full of his cum till he forces it out with another healthy dose of it. You truly don’t know where your minds gone when you reach this place with him. The crown of his cock rests sweetly against your cervix and it only serves to drive you deeper into insanity.

“Don’t- don’t make me wait. I can’t and I know you can’t either. I know you need it and I can do this for you. I want to do this for you,” you beg earnestly as a light fog grows heavier in your mind and your arousal for him heightens. You know this’ll give Halsin peace of mind, you know it’ll calm him after the fight you all went through. You want nothing more than to give that to him. So you whisper the one thing you hope will push him over the edge. “Just let go.”

Halsin is frozen, keeping you frozen along with him. His forehead now resting heavily on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone as he inhales heavy amounts of your scent. Then with a final squeeze to your ass, he lifts you up his cock, only leaving in the tip before his hips snap harshly back up into you. You cry out, cunt fluttering around his cock to which it responds with a twitch. Your bodies having been molded and in sync to each others.

Your hands caress his ears in order to intensify his pleasure. You feel the rumble in his chest and you press closer to him. Using his hold on your bottom, Halsin moves you up and down on his dick with ease, starting you both at a hurried pace. Your jaw drops, teeth nicking the skin of his neck.

“You’re ok,” Halsin breathes out, his voice low. You can hear the way he inhales and exhales roughly, tiny grunts leaving him with every wet smack of your hips meeting. You can only respond with broken whines, eyes fluttering as you lean all your weight on his imposing yet comforting figure. Halsin is more than prepared to carry you through this as he fucks into you.

His hands grip your body tightly as he fights for control, not wanting to be more rough than you can handle. His nails lightly dig into your skin, breaking skin in a way that has you moaning as pricks of pain join in with the vast amounts of pleasure. You know it’s sure to leave a mark or two but you can’t help but want more. Something that won’t fade away in a day or two.

You writhe against Halsin’s body, wanting his cock to touch every depth inside you as he maintains his frenzied pace. Lifting his head from your shoulder, he maneuvers around in order to more easily trail his soft lips over your heated body. He follows a pathway down your neck, tongue teasing your shoulder. His back arches so he can continue on along your chest. You gasp as his teeth bite at you softly, making your body buzz and quiver. His lips seem unable to leave your skin. You note the way his body shakes, his breath mixing with his groans and coming out in short pants.

You moan as his nails sink in a little further. Head thrown back you bask in every sensation you’re greeted with. It’s only when Halsin’s lips pause just above your collarbone do some of your senses come back to you. Though it remains difficult as you feel as though your body is floating in an air of bliss.

“W-what?” You try to ask through your haze, but talking proves to be difficult as every single thrust is punching the air out of your lungs. You barely even register it as Halsin’s teeth sink deep into your flesh. You’re so consumed by pleasure the puncture feels like faint tingles that only increase your ecstasy. You cry out more from surprise than anything. Your hands hold onto his hair tightly as you keep him right there inside you. Now in every way.

Halsin, so caught up in the way your tight cunt sucks him in with every thrust, the warm wetness encompassing him, and your beautiful body welcoming everything he is, he couldn’t stop the overflowing emotions whirling around in his mind. Before he knew it his teeth were out and burying themselves in deep. He was going to take them out immediately— he was going to apologize. But then he felt you tug him closer.

So instead he finds his mind completely spinning. Every time he starts to lift you up his cock, his hips snap back up into you as if desperate to stay. You whimper, back arching unnaturally as you’re unable to escape a second of pleasure, not getting a moment of reprieve. His brutal pace is relentless as he jackhammers his way inside you. You squirm but it only has him pressing harder into your G-spot, causing a sharp choking noise to leave you from the shock.

Your body tenses as you can’t escape the intense sensations inflicted upon you. You try to open your mouth and express it but all that leaves is a long moan that only has Halsin start sucking at the skin around his mark, his teeth still embedded in you. Your stomach clenches painfully as your orgasm reaches higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as you feel yourself burning from the inside out. That burning heat coming from the way his girth fills you, consumes you.

Halsin, having become attuned with your body, senses that you’re on the precipice of something magnificent. He doesn’t hesitate to slam your body back down on his dick and grind your clit roughly on the hair of his happy trail. You choke, your body jerking with violent force as the cord at the bottom of your belly snaps. A ringing echos in your ears and you can faintly hear your screaming beyond that as your climax crashes into you in waves, one right after the other as he doesn’t stop the stimulation on your clit.

A few moments later his teeth slip out of you as he goans from your clenching down on him. A few quick jerks of his hips and he’s emptying another load into your walls. You feel his cum flood through you, adding to the mix of busy sensations you’re experiencing. Yet this one has to be your favorite. Your body convulses uncontrollably and you feel a faint spark of worry as black spots suddenly surround your vision. You quickly call out Halsin’s name before you fall into darkness, your body going limp in his hold.

When you wake, you’re laying on the bed flat on your back. You wonder what woke you up and why you were asleep in the first place when a shocking texture brushes between your folds. You hiss, body jerking back. You look down just as Halsin’s head snaps up to look at you. Seeing a wet cloth in his hand and the tortured look in his eye has your memories flooding back to the front of your mind in an instant.

His gaze only lasts a moment before moving back down between your thighs. You see as that tortured look increases as his face twists. With a featherlight touch he cleans you up, being careful with the wet cloth as he wipes everything away. Your body aches but his soothing touch is enough to make you instantly relax back into the bed.

“Oh, Halsin,” you sigh, voice hoarse from your screams, watching as he avoids your gaze. Your limbs feel as though they weigh a million pounds, so all you can do is lay and watch as Halsin internally tortures himself over what just happened. Your heart flutters as he bends down, pressing soft apologetic kisses across your hips.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Halsin mumbles after a few long moments of silence. He grimaces, shaking his head as his eyes once again catch onto the forming bruises around your hips he’d just kissed. Looking away for a moment he puts some green paste he most likely made on his hands. He then leans forward, hands sliding over your bum and to the small puncture wounds from his nails. He makes sure to rub it in carefully to each mark. You wait until he’s finished and sitting back next to your legs.

“Halsin c’mere,” you call gently, loving the evident care shown from him while also needing you both need more. The air surrounding you is cold and empty as the fog is all but disappeared from your mind and you once again feel everything fully. You see Halsin hesitate, doing a double take to meet your gaze. Emotion rises in your chest and your voice cracks as you ask again. “Please, come here.”

His face twists in pain at the small break in your call. He doesn’t waste another moment before crawling up the length of his bed. Laying by your side he remains close while keeping a few inches of space between you. His eyes frantically move up and down your naked body, checking you over for what was probably the millionth time.

“How’re you feeling? Do you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He asks quietly, one question firing off as soon as he finishes asking the first. Finding your strength, you sluggishly lift an arm and cup his cheeks in order to bring his focus to your face. His cheek falls into your palm, soaking up your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you say in an attempt to calm his guilty heart. But Halsin immediately scoffs, not buying that for a second. In the moment, it had briefly scared you. But you were ok. Now, more than anything, you wanted to laugh about how he’d made you feel so good your body gave out. Though you could see he wasn’t in the joking mood right now.

“You cannot say such things, sweetheart, look at you,” Halsin says, motioning a hand along your stiff body, eyes following it. That same hand carefully lands around your waist. He rubs his thumb in calming circles, bringing a warmth to spread through you. Guilt continues to radiate off of him and it hurts your heart to see. He closes his eyes, angling his head to kiss along your wrist and down your arm. “I lost control— that is far from ok,”

“I wanted to go again. I don’t regret it, even now,” you admit, thumb caressing his cheek. Both of you subconsciously working to soothe the other. Halsin’s eyes open and meet yours. You can see his emotions going haywire through the depth of his eyes. He feels so much and carries so much on his back. He’s incredibly strong but you want him to know he doesn’t have to carry it alone.

“I was reckless. It was my responsibility to take care of you, make sure I wasn’t too rough. Now look at you,” he murmurs against your skin as he continues his soft kisses. With your hand now free of his face, you wrap it back into his hair. Such a simple touch from him has your heart beating out of your chest.

“Look at me. You’re taking care of me perfectly,” you express, letting your emotion shine through to him. His soft eyes flicker up to look at you as his lips reach your shoulder. They now look the tiniest bit more forgiving than they did a moment ago. Without moving even an inch away, his arms slip around your body. He curls you into himself, fully encapsulating you within his form. You hum contently, curling your arms between your bodies and brushing along his smooth skin.

“And I won’t stop. Is there anything you need?” His face now right in front of yours and his body surrounding you completely, you feel a million times better. Comfort and safety solidify themselves within you. Your eyes look between his as you can see his full attention on you and anything you may need of him. Right now the idea of needing more seems impossible as you have everything you could ask for right here.

“Just this.”

#halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin smut #halsin silverbough #halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x you #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin x reader #Halsin x afab!reader #halsin x fem!reader #halsin x female tav #halsin x gn reader #halsin x gn!tav #halsin x gender neutral reader #halsin x oc #Halsin silverbough x reader #Halsin silverbough x tav #Halsin silverbough x you #halsin fanfic #halsin fluff #halsin imagine #halsin fic #halsin romance #halsin the druid #halsin headcanons #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you

[sluttywoozi]

What Should We Become?

Title from Turbulence by Ateez

For: @sluttywonwoo my bestie and birthday queen

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 9.0k | Pairing: Yeosang x f!reader x San

You and San have been dating for years, you're well aware of his penchant for doing anything for anyone he loves. You just didn't know that extended to asking you to fuck his best friend, not that you mind.

Tags: est. relationship, boyfriend!san, bestfriend!yeosang, threesome, fluff, smut

Notes: boyfriend!san, you live together, pov lowkey all over the place bc i wanted to know what everyone was thinking soz

Warnings: so many feelings i did NOT plan for, food/alc mention, mention of past toxic relationship (yeo's), jealous san, mentions of san being possessive but specifically not in a gross way, nipple play, biting, oral (f and m rec.), fingering, squirting, they both have big dicks, protected piv, unprotected piv, spitroasting (hate that term so sorry), san cums inside, bc not discussed but they’re safe, open ending

Reader Notes: a bit more specific than usual bc this is for the bestie, ‘girlfriend’ used many times, she/her pronouns used, has breasts and a vagina, mention of marks showing on her skin, WAP

You fumble with the wrapping on the popcorn, cursing under your breath and trying to tear the plastic as Temi weaves in and out of your feet. San’s hand hovers just out of reach, ready and waiting to do it for you, but you pretend not to see it. He loves doing things for you and you love that about him, both because it means he’s considerate and also because it means you have to do less things, but sometimes you want to do them on your own. You know popcorn isn’t exactly the most impactful opportunity to make a stand, but it’s all about baby steps. 

The bag is finally turning in the microwave when his fingers catch at your shirt and he starts tugging you into his orbit. He’s big, broad, but still lean enough that you think you could lift him, probably, not that you’ve ever tried. You’re musing about how many piggyback rides he’s given you and how little you’ve given him when he asks the question. 

“Baby, how would you feel about sleeping with Yeosang?” He sounds nervous, his voice full of trepidation and the fabric of your top clenched in his hand. 

“Like a sleepover? That’s fine with me, I can take the couch if you guys want to share the bed, I know you like your snuggle time. Just know I'm taking Temi with me,” you respond mildly, unsure as to why he’s so on edge. 

You can see the pain enter his eyes when he realizes he’ll need to explain further. 

“No, I mean, like- Ugh! This is so hard!” He sucks in a deep breath before expelling it along with the words, “I want you to have sex with Yeosang!”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, alright,” you shrug, like he asked if you’d eat Italian for dinner, not have sex with another man. A man who isn’t your boyfriend. A man who happens to be your boyfriend’s best friend. A man who happens to be your friend. A man you happen to find incredibly attractive. 

“You agreed to that way too easily,” San pouts, pulling you closer with his arms wrapped around your waist. His fingers dig in possessively, as if to remind you who you really want, who you really love. Like you could ever forget. 

You met San and Yeosang at the same time and spent some time with both of them as friends before San confessed his feelings for you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Yeosang at all in those few weeks, about Yeosang and San, and just how their dynamic would translate to sex. 

But no matter how curious you were, and how prim and polished and perfect Yeosang is (and how much you want to wreck that perfection), San will always be the only man for you. 

How could you be with anyone else when San is the only one who knows you? When he not only gives you his pickles but orders an extra side of them, just for you. When he started wearing socks to bed because you hate other peoples’ feet touching yours. When he always makes sure you have your favorite lunch to eat with your favorite show, and always buys those star pimple patches you like, and brought home a soaking wet, shivering, brown ball of fur that you promptly wrapped up in a fresh-from-the-dryer towel and named Temi. 

San can read all of your moods, knows when you need extra attention or when you need solitude, knows when you want him all over you and when you can’t stand to be touched, knows how to calm you down and how to ramp you up, knows everything there is to know about you. 

He even knows the less cute parts, the ones you try to keep hidden away from everyone else. The jealousy, the insecurity, the fear of inadequacy, he knows it all. 

And he loves you. He loves you so much it shines out of every pore, so much it fills in every crack in your facade, so much he makes you glow with it. There’s no ‘but’, no ‘despite’, he loves every single thing about you because they’re about you. 

The best part is, you’re not even special. 

Sure, you’re special to him, but you’re not the only one he loves like this. He loves all of his friends with such intensity, knows them all better than he knows himself, would do anything for them. Even ask his girlfriend to have sex with them, apparently. 

Making the decision to ask must have been beyond difficult for him. San is made up of a myriad of lovely qualities, but one of the less lovely ones is his possessiveness. It never crosses the bridge into toxicity, never scares you, but he does get a certain look on his face when his friends get too touchy with you. Or when a guy asks to buy you a drink at the bar after he goes to the bathroom. Or when your ex texts you or your male study buddy invites you out for dinner or, or, or. 

But… you like it, if you’re being honest. You like when his eyes get heavy and warm on you and his grip gets tight and his body gets even bigger, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t enjoy his posturing, but you just can’t help it when you consider what often follows. 

(San blowing your back out.)

(That’s what follows.)

The discussion of details comes later, when your popcorn has cooled enough to eat and San has gotten over his petty jealousy at the thought of you being touched by someone else. He’d gotten petulant about it after like he hadn’t considered that part of the equation, but he seems to have grown accustomed to it. There will be rules, of course, such as, “He can’t cum inside of you. That’s just for me.”

And, “No marks, either.”

“And he has to wear a condom.”

“And-”

“San, we don’t even know if Yeo wants to fuck me yet. Why don’t we get that squared away before we lay out all of the boundaries, okay?” 

“Of course he wants to fuck you,” San almost sounds offended at the idea that he wouldn’t, “But, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he concedes. 

“What brought this on, anyway? Is this… something you’re into?” You ask, not expecting a yes but also not expecting the answer you get. 

“No, definitely not. You know I’m not a good sharer. It’s just that Yeo kind of wants to get back into dating but he’s a bit… unsteady after his last experience. I want him to have a good one before he puts himself out there again, for a confidence boost. And I know I can trust him with you, and you with him.” 

It’s… well, shockingly isn’t the right word, because San is kind to a fault, sometimes, but it’s an unexpectedly altruistic reason, and you’re all the more glad you agreed. You would have been fine with it if he just wanted to watch another man fuck you because you think that’s hot, but to know that he really just wants to take care of his best friend makes you even more sure of your decision. 

It helps that Yeosang looks like a prince and acts like one, too. You’ve wondered what he’s like in bed, if he’s the same or if he’s less refined, less quiet, less polite. He’s so strong, you wonder if he’ll throw you around or hold you down, or if he’ll handle you gently and hold your hand. You wouldn’t mind either, if you’re being honest. 

The weight of San’s suspicious gaze tears you from your thoughts. You send him an innocent smile and lean in, batting your eyelashes and puckering up for a kiss. He obliges, of course, deepening it before you can even think to pull away, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and working its way inside. You love how he kisses you, so thoroughly, so passionately, like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than you. 

By the time he pulls away, you’re breathless and brainless, all thoughts of anyone but San wiped from your mind. 

San decides to invite Yeosang over when you’re at one of your The Gals nights to pop the question. He literally feels like he’s about to propose as he paces the apartment, doing some last minute tidying and nervously smoothing his shirt every three minutes. It’s not like Yeosang’s never come over before - he’s nearly a regular fixture at this point. You and San had even considered giving him a key. 

This is different though, he’s about to ask his best friend if he wants to have sex with his girlfriend. He still can’t believe he even thought of the idea, let alone pitched it to you, but here he is, rehearsing different ways of broaching the topic as he anxiously awaits Yeosang’s arrival. 

He can’t be too direct or he’ll scare Yeosang away - he can be a bit skittish sometimes - but he also can’t dance around it too much or Yeo won’t figure out what he’s talking about. The guy is smart as hell but kind of slow on the uptake on occasion, a trait San is beyond fond of, though it makes it difficult to be subtle about things like this. 

‘Things like this,’ as if he’s ever done anything of this nature before, he thinks with a wry laugh and shakes his head. Sharing you was never even a concept in his mind until Yeosang had confided in him that he was scared to get back out there after his ex. He’d brainstormed a few ways to help but kept going back to how much you’d helped him through sex when you first got together. He’d been completely inexperienced and insanely nervous until you started guiding him, and everything flowed from there. He wished you could help Yeosang the same way, and then realized the only thing stopping you from doing just that was him. It would have been selfish not to at least ask if you’d be interested, and though he was a little surprised (and annoyed) that you agreed with no hesitation, he still believes this is the right thing to do. 

So when two timid knocks sound on the door, San’s nerves settle to a low simmer and he’s able to greet his best friend as normally as possible. 

The normalcy only lasts for so long, his anxiety ticking back up the longer he makes awkward small talk with Yeosang. He knows Yeo can sense that something is off but he also knows he'll never say anything about it, will just sit here and watch TV and talk about nothing until San is ready to tell him. It’s a wonderful quality of Yeosang’s, the fact that he can read him so well and knows not to dig, but today San wishes he would. He’s not sure he can find it in himself to ask Yeosang if he’d like to fuck you, and a good lead in might be the only way he can bring it up. 

Hours pass and San’s shoulders start to ache with tension. He still hasn’t said anything about the actual reason he invited Yeosang over today, and he’s starting to feel like he could vibrate out of his skin. He really didn’t think it would be this hard, definitely thought it would be more difficult to ask you rather than Yeosang, but here he is. It’s nearing bedtime and you’ll likely return home soon, and then what's San supposed to do? Ask Yeosang if he wants to have sex with you while you’re right here?

Wait. 

Wait, that might be a good idea. You hadn’t discussed when exactly this would happen but from your texts tonight, San already knows you’re turned on, and Yeosang is here, so…

So... he stalls until your key starts turning in the lock and Temi starts screeching in reaction, knowing exactly what that sound means. He’s sure Yeosang noticed his change in demeanor but he doesn’t bother explaining, knowing that Yeo is going to be very confused for however long it takes to go through everything.

He doesn’t want to just spring his plan on you so he leaps up and jogs over from the couch to greet you at the door, shouting, “One sec!” at the living room before pulling you into the farthest corner of the kitchen. You follow with a huff, yelling, “Hi Yeosang!” and turning to San only when Yeo responds, "Hiii." 

“Babe, hear me out,” San begs with his hands on your shoulders as he watches the confusion spread on your face. 

“You haven’t said anything to hear out yet,” you remind him, arching a brow at him in expectation. “You just dragged me in here and you didn’t even let me say hi to Yeosang.” 

“You did say hi to Yeosang, just now-,”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.” 

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but I have to tell you something!”

“Okay, so tell me! I’m not tipsy anymore and I either want to shower or fuck so-,”

“That’s good because I want to ask Yeo right now if he wants to fuck you tonight. What are your thoughts?” 

He hadn’t planned on sounding so frustrated when he told you but when the words start to spill out, he lets them. It doesn’t help that you’re really hot when you’re annoyed and he’s a bit upset that he’ll have to let Yeo have you first if everything goes well. 

“Um.”

The third voice startles him, makes his fingers clench your shoulders a bit too hard and at the breath hissed through your teeth, he lets go. He pets at the sore spots, whispering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” until you grab his hands and tell him, “Sannie, it’s okay. Let’s focus on Yeo.” 

He turns cautiously, unsure of what he’ll find as he shifts his attention to the statue that was his best friend. Yeosang stands perfectly still, his eyes alarmed and his mouth half open. San can’t tell if he’s scared or grossed out or offended or all three, and this suddenly feels like the worst idea he’s ever had. Not just the telling him part but the whole thing. Regret settles heavily in his stomach, mortification closing up his throat as he tries to find the right words to say. He’s about to start with the most teary apology of his life when Yeosang starts to speak. 

“Um, I do want to- I would. Like that. I would like to do that,” Yeosang says firmly, if a bit clumsily. He nods emphatically as he speaks, seriously, like this is an honor that’s been bestowed upon him, and San supposes it is. You haven’t fucked many people other than San and San has fucked nobody other than you, so to let someone into that aspect of your relationship is a sign of just how much you both trust Yeosang and each other. 

“Oh,” You and San exhale in unison, “Well, that makes things easier,” San continues. 

Shifting to lean back against the counter, San crosses his arms and looks directly into Yeosang’s eyes, “We have some rules.” You roll yours, pulling San’s arms away from his chest enough to slide between them and rest your back against him to break the rising tension. 

“I like rules,” Yeosang assures you both excitedly, looking more relaxed now that he knows there are restrictions. 

“One: you’re wearing a condom. I got a few different sizes, just in case. Two: you’re not cumming inside of her, even with the condom. Three: no marking-,”

“But you can bite!” You interject helpfully, making San nod and repeat, “Yes, biting is okay, just don’t leave any marks.” 

Yeosang smiles primly, nodding along as well. The look in his eye tells San he’s going over the rules in his head and he has to push down the wave of fondness in order to maintain his stern facade. As well as he knows Yeo would never do anything to hurt you, San still feels like he needs to protect you in a situation like this, and the rules make him feel better about entrusting you to someone else. (San also knows you’re a fully grown person and can make your own decisions, but you’re his girlfriend too and he loves you, deal with it.)

“And if at any point any of us wants to stop, all we have to do is say so,” San declares, making sure you and Yeosang understand that the situation is under your full control. He’s planning on just being a spectator, but if you’re up for it after Yeosang…

You and Yeo agree, exchanging nervous smiles and glancing toward the bedroom. It’s clear you’re both becoming antsy, but San has one last thing to say. 

“Okay, I just want us to remember that we’re all friends here. Well, babe, we’re more than that, obviously, and Yeo, you know you’re my man, but what I’m trying to say is that there’s no reason to be nervous because it’s all love here, right?”

“Right,” you parrot with a squeeze to his forearm as Yeosang smiles and twists his fingers together. He’s clearly still nervous but you seem perfectly at ease and San is reminded once again why this is a good idea. You’re just what Yeo needs to find his confidence again and San hopes that tonight is the first step to him finding his own you, too. 

Things are awkward once you all reach the bedroom. Temi is asleep on the bed so you have to take her to her favorite blanket in the living room. She stays asleep, the sweet little log she is, but you leave out a plate of food just in case she wakes up. It strikes you that you haven’t really gotten to prepare at all and though you’re used to just going at it with San, you need some time to get ready for Yeosang. You feel a bit disheveled after Gals’ Night so you continue straight into the bathroom to strip your dirty clothes and start the shower. 

Peeking your head out from behind the door, you tell the boys, “Just gimme five! Why don’t you get the condoms out, babe?” 

San does so, presenting Yeosang with a grocery bag of four boxes, sizes small to extra-large. He really did cover all of his bases (there were two possibilities that, as his best friend and also someone who’s seen him in wet swim trunks, San knew he could ignore). Yeo avoids his eyes and dips a hand into the bag, grabbing the extra-large box and clumsily pawing at the packaging. He finally rips it open, a roll of 36 condoms spilling out onto the bed, much to his obvious consternation. 

“There weren’t smaller boxes?” Yeosang asks, eyeing the multicolored packages splayed on the sheets. 

“Better safe than sorry,” San responds with a shrug, sweeping all but one condom back into the box before tossing the bag into the closet. 

Yeosang can’t help but agree, stepping back to sit carefully on the bed next to the condom, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his gaze anywhere but on San. He can hear the shower, hear the muted smack of water on tile, knows you’re naked in there. Can almost imagine the drops rolling their way down your body, slipping over the curves that he definitely has not been very well aware of since he met you. 

This feels insane, this whole situation, but Yeosang would rather die than leave right now. It’s not like he’s been lying in wait to steal you from San, but he did have a little bit of a crush on you that he never told him about. He’d known that San had fallen for you practically at first sight, and he could never put himself above his best friend like that. That said, this opportunity is one he’s planning on taking full advantage of. He’s still not sure why San wants him to have sex with you but he’s scared to ask, scared to jeopardize this arrangement and leave here without ever knowing you like this. 

Unfortunately, it’s something he needs to know before he can go any further. 

“San, why do you want to let me do this? You’re not the best at sharing,” Yeosang asks quietly, as if the lower his volume the less likely it is that San will change his mind. 

“Well,” San sighs, looking around the room to avoid his eyes, though Yeosang suspects that’s more for him than anything. “Your last relationship was shitty. She wasn’t nice to you and she was always ragging on you or telling you you weren’t good enough. You mentioned a few weeks ago you were thinking of joining some dating apps, so I wanted to figure out how to boost your confidence when it comes to stuff like this. But all I could think was that I wished you had someone like Y/N to help you through it like I did. And it occurred to me that you do, if I let you.”

The room is silent besides the low rush of the shower and Yeosang’s brain is anything but. Any other guy would just take him to a bar and play wingman, but here San is, offering to let him fuck his girlfriend if it means he’ll get some of his self-esteem back. He’s not sure it’s something he could bear to do, and he’s shocked San is willing to even try with how territorial he can get. Yeosang knows he can trust him though, and that he can trust you. So when San looks at him head on, his expression open and honest, there’s nothing else for Yeosang to do but thank him. 

“You’re a really good friend, San. The best.” 

You get a bit distracted in the shower and it takes much longer than five minutes, but you can’t say you regret it. You feel so refreshed, so dewy, and you know you smell good as fuck so now is the prime time to reenter the absurd circumstances you’ve created with your boyfriend. You’re a little nervous now, the small amount of time you’d been out of the dynamic leaving you feeling off-kilter and unsure. You know San is waiting for you out there though, Yeosang too, and that’s enough to give you the courage you need to push open the door. Steam escapes around you, framing you in what you hope is a flattering haze, and both boys’ eyes snap to you immediately. You freeze in place, your eyes wide and your fingers gripping tightly at the towel wrapped around your body as they take you in. San’s already half hard, likely a Pavlovian response to what happens whenever you’re at least semi-naked in his vicinity (you getting bent over or pushed up against the closest surface). Yeosang’s body is turned away from you so you can’t tell if he’s similarly affected but the expression on his face is that of someone who’s just seen an angel, which bolsters your confidence enough to let the towel slip down a bit further. 

You can feel San’s eyes on you as you tease Yeosang, know he’s smiling a smile far too sweet for this context, and you just can’t resist the urge to turn and look at him. 

You were right, his face is lit up with a grin that could rival the sun, but his eyes are steamy, heavy, possessive. You can tell he’s trying his best to step back and let you and Yeo get to know each other like this, can tell how hard it is for him to even share you at this level of undress, and you vow to yourself that every day this week, you’ll be swallowing his dick. He deserves it, to be taken care of and pampered and spoiled, and you know there’s no one better for the job than you. 

Stepping further into the room, you move to San first, pressing a kiss to his lips and attempting to move on. It gets out of hand quickly, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling the towel tight across your ass. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, nibbling on the tip and letting his own glide against yours before shifting one hand to your stomach and physically pushing you away. You break apart at the last possible second, your head angled forward even as your body is forced to move backward, wanting to kiss him for as long as you can. 

Yeosang waits patiently on the bed, standing when San pushes you in his direction and letting you fix the towel before taking your hands in his. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, wanting to check in at every step and also desperately wishing he could read your mind, if only to know what you think of him. 

“Good! I’m good. A little nervous. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m nervous too,” he whispers, like he doesn’t want San to hear after you’d agreed there was no reason to be, “But excited.”

“Me too,” you smile indulgently at him, wondering why you suddenly have the conversation skills of an incel when you’re just talking to Yeosang. 

Obviously, you know why. But you wish it wasn’t so, wish you didn’t feel so stilted, wish you could summon that easy rapport you always share with him. He seems to sense this, pursing his lips in that small smile you love before offering, “Maybe if I take my shirt off?”

“Oh. Oh, um, yeah, I think that could help. Maybe,” you breathe, forcing yourself not to blink as his fingers pull the fabric higher and higher, revealing rows of pale abs two by two. You think you count eight before you hear a throat clear behind you and turn to find San shirtless as well. Cooing at his rising jealousy, you blow him a kiss and rotate back to Yeosang, only to find a smirk on his face and his hands on his belt. 

When did he get all confident? You wonder, realizing that the switch happened at the same time San made his green eyes known, and suddenly, his change in demeanor makes perfect sense. San and Yeosang get into a little rivalry every now and then, just some friendly competition, and it seems this is going to be one of those times. Does that make you the prize? You’re not sure but it definitely feels like you’re the winner here, getting to experience Yeosang while knowing that San will be waiting for you when it’s all over. You try to remember you’re doing this for Yeo, not for yourself, but it’s difficult when you’ve got two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen wanting you. 

“Go ahead then,” You challenge Yeosang, just because you’re curious what he’ll do, and he reacts exactly as you expected. He blanches, one hand moving to run through his hair and the other reaching up to cover what he can of his chest, which isn’t much. It’s cute, adorable, really, the way he dropped the cockiness as soon as he was forced to commit. 

You can tell he’s going to need some guidance from here, frozen as he is, so you gently take the hand hiding his pecs and pull him down to sit with you on the bed.  San drops into the chair in the corner of the room but stays silent, letting you and Yeosang work it out. You’re grateful for it, for him, for his quiet strength steadying the both of you. 

“Why don’t we just start with a kiss and go from there? Do you want to kiss me, Yeosang?” You whisper, shuffling closer to him while keeping your grip on your towel. 

“Yes. I do, please,” he answers immediately, scooting over a few inches with his knees pressed tightly together. 

Leaning in slowly, you brush your lips over his. You can feel his cupid’s bow, feel his breath, feel the minute trembling of his bottom lip as he waits for you to kiss him properly. You will, of course you will, but first you want to make him just a little bit crazy. You let your mouth graze his, sink your teeth ever so slightly into that bottom lip, giving the teeniest tiniest sucks every so often. Yeosang shivers against you, his body taut like a bowstring, his fingers gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles go white. He’s trying so hard to restrain himself that you decide to give him more, slipping your tongue into his mouth to glide against his and sighing into him when he tentatively nudges back. 

He tastes like coke and popcorn, the flawless combination of sweet and salty tasting even better on his tongue, making you suck at it in pulses and making Yeosang let out a quiet moan. The sound sends zaps of electricity through you, one of your hands leaving your towel to cup his face and kiss him harder. He’s addictive, his sweet little noises and his sharp jawline, and you force yourself to pull back before you can get too carried away. You can’t just kiss him all night, you’re- Well… No! You cannot just kiss him all night! 

Even if you want to. 

He tries to follow but you still him with your free hand on his chest while you virtually gasp for air, your mind racing as you try to figure out where to go from here. You’re feeling a bit scrambled, slightly out of sorts, so you seek out the person who always knows where you are even when you don’t. 

San’s already looking at you, his eyes soft even as his hands grip the armrests, and he raises a brow when you lock eyes. Instantly, he knows your predicament and helps you out of it. 

“Babe, being on the bed might be more comfy, hm?” He sounds slightly amused and you narrow your eyes at him in a playful glare as you and Yeosang get situated on the duvet. You’re glad his teasing is directed at you though, you have a feeling it wouldn’t be well received by Yeosang at this particular point in time. 

You wish you’d put underwear on under the towel - you’re not quite ready to be buck ass naked in front of your boyfriend’s best friend - but you hadn’t brought any into the bathroom and it didn’t feel right in the moment to go to the dresser, so here you are. One layer from said state, and a flimsy layer at that. However, you were born to persevere, laying down and tugging at the towel until it lays flat over you. Yeosang was busy taking off his pants, thankfully, and when you’re both finished fussing, you take each other in. 

Your eyes rove over him as he sits on his knees, his gray boxer briefs stretched tight over his thighs and his posture immaculate. You can see the outline of his cock, see it straining against the fabric, a couple spots of pre-cum darkened fabric dotted at the head. You can also see the XL condom next to him, and thank God you’re laying down because your knees just went weak at the thought of even seeing his dick. Let alone touching it. Let alone having it inside of you. You want all of those things, but there’s a nagging thought in the back of your brain that reminds you, Yeosang isn’t San.  

Yeosang isn’t San and he isn’t yours either, so you tell yourself not to get too comfortable with him tonight. You can get a little comfortable though, enough to reach for his hand and pull him closer, enough to ask him, “Do you want me to take this off?”

“God yes,” he answers nearly before you even finished talking, his words more like a sigh as he straddles your legs and drops to hover above you. Your fingers play with the edge of the towel, less so to tease him and more so to give yourself more time before he sees you naked. You’re not shy about your body but you feel shy with him for some reason, so you push it down slowly, baring your breasts to him inch by inch. 

He sucks in a sharp gasp through his teeth as you reveal yourself. His eyes go heavy-lidded and hot on you and he doesn’t look away, his gaze laser-focused and his hands clenched into fists next to your head. He stares, saying and doing nothing long enough that you start to squirm under his attention. 

“You can touch her,” San reminds him. He says it loudly enough that Yeosang turns to level a look at him, making San mime zipping his mouth shut and locking it with a key. He even tosses the key at Yeosang, who catches and offers it to you. 

“Why thank you, been looking for this thing for ages,” you beam, sliding the imaginary key under the part of the towel still covering you, much to San’s obvious displeasure. 

The little moment between the three of you breaks up the tension, allowing Yeosang to feel comfortable enough to shift his weight onto one hand and bring the other up to cover your breast. He keeps it light, squeezes just enough to feel the weight of you in his palm, but he’s already thinking about getting his mouth on you, getting his teeth on you. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you shiver, your flesh rippling under his hand in the most entrancing way. 

He didn’t expect to like teasing you but he does, likes moving to the other side just when you’re starting to settle down, likes grazing his nails over your sensitive skin and making you shiver, likes pulling and rolling and twisting your nipples until you’re moaning and arching into his touch. It isn’t long before his hands aren’t enough, and he’s barely able to ask if he can use his mouth before you’re whining, “Yes, yes, yes!” and sinking your fingers into his hair. 

You taste so good, so fresh and clean after your shower, Yeosang can’t get enough. He sucks, nibbles, licks his way from side to side, never settling on one spot for too long. His teeth don’t ever sink in enough to leave a lasting bruise; he wishes he could mark you but rules are rules, and Yeosang loves rules, so this isn’t one he’ll break. He’s content enough to cover every square inch of your chest in kisses, trailing them down your stomach and over your hip bones. 

“Can I eat you out? Please?” Yeosang nearly begs, hoping you and San will say yes but unsure as this hadn’t been covered in the pre-sex negotiations. 

You’re already nodding, but it must occur to you to ask San too as your eyes find his. He giggles at the look on your face, your lips pouted and trembling and your eyebrows screwed up as you silently plead with San. 

“Yes, okay, fine!” San exclaims, throwing his hands up as if he can no longer stand to look at your puppy dog eyes. 

But Yeosang doesn’t want to overstep any bounds, won’t risk this friendship just for some oral (even if he really wants to go down on you, like A Lot), so he says, “San, if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t.”

“No, it’s just,” he sighs, “It’s really nice and I’m scared you’ll like it too much.”

He likes oral, but he's never liked it too much.

It’s a little nerve wracking to watch you push the rest of the towel away, fully baring yourself to him. He’s sure you’re the more nervous one here, but this still feels like an important moment in your friendship and Yeosang can’t help but lean down and kiss you, just a simple, gentle kiss in thanks. For your vulnerability, for your candor, for your careful way of handling him. He’s just thankful to you. 

He’s even more thankful when he shoulders your thighs apart and licks into you for the first time. You taste… exquisite? Divine? Like all of the heavens concentrated into one being? Now he gets why San was so worried, because he’s already addicted. You’re wet, so fucking wet, that all he needs to do is glide his tongue through your folds to smear it all over. He likes it messy, contrary to his reserved nature, so he lets himself lose a bit of technique to get as much of you in, on, and around his mouth as he can. 

“She likes when you go inside,” San offers, but Yeosang wants to find his own way, so he grunts in acknowledgement and continues to devour you as he pleases. You’d both said this is for him, he can afford to be a bit selfish. 

You don’t seem to mind, if the way you’re writhing and whining says anything. To Yeosang, it says everything, though he’ll need to hold your hips down if he wants to keep going. Eventually, he does decide to slide his tongue inside you, just because you were starting to sound like you might cry, and when he does it’s mind blowing. The taste of you is so much more rich here and there’s so much of your slick seeping out that he can just drink you right down. It’s glorious, you’re glorious, and he’s desperate to make you cum. 

He fucks you with his tongue, pushes it in and out of your entrance and shifts a thumb down from your hip to rub circles over your clit. He experiments until he finds the pressure and motion you like and from there, it’s easy. Easy to let his groans vibrate into you, to reach up and put one of your hands back in his hair, to let you guide him. Easy to slip one, then two fingers in alongside his tongue. Easy to curl them up, hook them inside, spread you open and get right at your g-spot. 

“Can you squirt?” He slurs, his heart in his throat and his voice reflecting it. He almost doesn’t sound like himself, his voice so deep it rumbles in his chest and his words flowing together. His fingers are still pistoning in and out of you so you can’t answer, but San does, thankfully. 

“Yeah, she can. If you just-,”

“Perfect.”

Yeosang doubles his efforts, sinks another finger inside and moves his tongue up to your clit, pushing at it in pulses as he wraps his lips around it and sucks. He gets a bit rougher and faster with his fingers, fucking you like he means it, and your whines get higher and higher and higher until you’re keening, bucking up against the arm laid over your hips. It won’t be long now, he knows, until you’re flooding him with your wetness and (hopefully) crying your way through an orgasm. 

They don’t always happen together, but he wants to make them happen together for you, so he makes sure to focus on your clit even as he fingerfucks you into oblivion. You like it, he thinks, love it maybe, and soon enough, your pussy is clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside, so insanely tight that he thinks he’ll die when he gets his dick inside of you. You cry out, broken and pleasure-soaked, when you cum. Your clit beats like a tiny little heart and your walls undulate around his fingers as slick gushes out of you in spurts. It’s perfect, you’re perfect, and he’s already mourning the fact that he’ll never get to do this again. 

Once his neck and chest are covered in you, he finishes helping you through your orgasm and lets up. He would push for another but he doesn’t want to be greedy, so he gently places your legs back down on the bed and shakily sits up. You’re still panting, your lashes wet and your mouth open, and fuck if you aren’t the prettiest thing Yeosang has ever seen. The haze in your eyes clears up, your gaze finds his, and it’s two seconds of silence before you’re both giggling your hearts out. There’s something funny about making one of your best friends squirt, and it’s even funnier when it’s your best friend’s girlfriend too. 

“Have fun?” San’s voice breaks up your laughter, his jealousy evident though his restraint is too. Yeosang imagines this must be incredibly difficult for him, and once again he’s struck with the desire to thank you both. Who else can say they have friends like this? Friends who let him into their bed, who share themselves with him, who take care of him. Yeosang is so lucky, so insanely lucky, to have you two. 

“I love you guys,” Yeosang sighs, and it seems San can’t hold onto his annoyance in the face of his affection because his frown becomes a grin that dimples his cheeks and brightens his eyes. You’re looking similarly fond, your smile sweet and your hands gentle when they pull him to you so you can place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Love you too, Yeo,” You and San repeat in unison, on the same page in this as in almost everything. 

Yeosang doesn’t know what will happen after tonight but he’s secure in the knowledge that this won’t do anything but bring the three of you closer. He thinks. 

He doesn’t have long to linger on the thoughts, your hands coming to rest on his stomach and your nails dragging down to catch at his boxers. He’s ridiculously hard, doesn’t need any of the preparation you’re offering, might even cum if you touch him, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get your hands on him tonight. He nods when you ask if you can take his boxers off, tries to quiet the racing of his heart as you slowly pull them down. His dick bounces up and against his stomach, smearing precum on his abs before it bobs down heavily. He’s big, he knows, and the three fingers he’d given you should be enough, but he’s considering offering a fourth when he takes notice of the look in your eyes. 

You look like you’re not scared at all, like this is a walk in the park or a day at the beach, and it’s so fucking sexy that Yeosang just knows he can’t let you touch him too much or he’ll blow. You can touch him a little though, he decides, taking your hand when you hesitate and bringing it to rest on his cock. Your hand is smaller than his, warmer and softer too, and it feels miles better than his own. You definitely know what you’re doing, starting to stroke him and running your thumb up and down the frenulum and over the head, a combination that already has Yeosang seeing stars. He wishes he could let you keep going but he’ll cum if he doesn’t stop you, is even a bit nervous that he’ll cum the second he slides inside of you, but that’s a risk he’s dying to take. 

His hand covers yours, squeezing down hard at the base to stave off the orgasm, as he whispers, “Stop, stop, stop, I’ll cum.”

You smile proudly, wiggling your hand out from under his to grab the condom at his side and hold it out. For some reason, opening the wrapper and rolling it on feels momentous, like this is the point of no return. Which is ridiculous because you’ve already done all sorts of things friends don’t do, and because he knows he could stop anytime he wants. The problem is that he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t ever want to stop, but as he folds your legs up and glides the covered head of his cock over your clit, he decides that’s a problem for future Yeosang. 

Present Yeosang is preoccupied, mesmerized by how his dick covers the whole of your pussy. He could stare for days, months, years, but you wriggle beneath him in impatience so he lines himself up and starts to slowly push in. Your cunt sucks him in, your walls contracting over and over until he bottoms out with a strangled moan. 

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” He can hear San say somewhere in the background, but his head is swimming at the pressure of you around him and he can’t summon the words to respond. You are perfect, though, your cunt is perfect, and welcoming, and wet as all fuck, and he wishes he could make a home here inside of you but he knows he can’t, so he pulls back and pumps into you again. He starts slow, doesn’t go as rough as he usually likes to but you get impatient fast, wrapping your arms around his neck whispering, “Harder, harder, please,” until he decides to give you what you want. 

He pounds into you, slamming in and out and groaning as he feels your pussy get tighter and tighter around him. He thinks you might already be close, knows that as soon as you cum, he will too and this will all be over, so he breathlessly asks, “Will you ride me? I wanna see you,” pulling out and clumsily switching places with you when your eyes grow bright and you happily sigh, “Yes!”

His view as you climb on top of him is immaculate, your body all stretched out over his and your tits sitting perfectly. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, watching the bashful grin rise on your face and catching San’s nod in his peripheral vision. He’s also got his lips pursed and his knees bouncing, and Yeosang feels a little bad that he’s taking such advantage of the situation. San gets you all the time though, practically whenever he wants, so Yeosang feels he’s allowed to be a bit selfish just this once. 

He holds his dick up as you lower yourself onto him, swallowing him again in your blinding heat and making his head spin. You resume the quick pace, slamming yourself down on him over and over, and all Yeosang can do is lay there and take it. Well, he could grab your hips and fuck up into you but he’s enjoying being fucked too much to change anything about this. He’s always been the one doing the work in sex and it’s so unbelievably wonderful to just let you take him. 

You like it too, might even love it, he thinks. You’re making the sweetest sounds, your moans and whimpers and sighs intoxicating to him. You feel so much tighter around him like this, too, and he feels like he’s even deeper than he was before, your ass smacking against his balls with every thrust. He’s getting close, he’s getting so fucking close, and he knows he can’t cum inside you but he doesn’t want to cum in the condom either, but you hadn’t discussed where he could cum if not in the condom, and suddenly Yeosang is right there on the edge with no idea what to do.

“San, I’m gonna cum. What do I-,”

“In my mouth, Yeo. Cum in my mouth,” you interject, climbing off of him and stopping his orgasm in its tracks. He grips the base of his cock and peels off the condom as San takes you by the ankles, flips you onto your stomach, and drags you to lay horizontally on the bed. 

“Want me now or want me to wait, baby?” San asks you, one hand on your back and one on his dick. 

“Now, Sannie, I want you now,” you respond, your voice shot and your eyes teary as you turn to watch him line himself up and slide home. You whine his name and the sound soothes him, settles the simmering jealousy in his stomach and replaces it with heat, which only grows as he feels you adjust to him. He must be a bit bigger than Yeosang and that calms him a little bit more, even though he knows it shouldn’t. 

Poor Yeosang still hasn’t cum so San beckons him forward, ignoring how weird it feels to be interacting with his best friend while he’s fucking his girlfriend. Yeosang shuffles closer to you on unsteady feet, his eyes dark as he watches his dick disappear in your mouth. You’re so fucking good at sucking dick he’s almost jealous it’s not him in your throat right now, but he knows he’s got the better end of the deal, getting to fuck you raw and cum inside you. Getting to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning. Getting to go grocery shopping with you and brush his teeth next to you and take you on dates. Getting to love you. Nothing could be better than his life with you, and thinking about it has him on the verge of tears and on the edge of cumming. 

He normally lasts longer but he’s had to watch you get pleasured for an hour while having nothing to do with it, he thinks he can cut himself a little slack. It would be kind of beautiful and poetic if you could all cum together, so he slips one hand between your thighs and strums your clit in the way that makes you go fucking crazy, and fucking crazy you go. Your cunt seizes up around him, your back arching further and your thighs shaking. You’d be shouting if you didn’t have Yeosang’s dick in your mouth and though he misses your noises, he’s happy that Yeosang is having such a good time. 

It’s obvious he’s close again, his eyes screwed shut and his breathing labored, and thank fuck he is because San is cumming, fuck, he’s cumming, and you are too. Your pussy clenches around him in pulses, milking his cock and sucking his cum in deeper and deeper until he has nothing left to give. His head swims and through the haze, he can hear Yeosang swearing and groaning, hear your name leaving his lips, and San would be lying if he said it didn’t make him cum just a little bit harder. 

When your cunt has squeezed the last of his cum out of his dick, San drapes himself over your back, pressing kisses across your shoulders and snaking his arms around your stomach. He always feels so cuddly after sex and he knows the comfort is good for you too, so he stays as he is even as Yeosang pulls out and drops to his knees to press a kiss to your lips. That’s something San always does after you suck him off and he’s happy it seems to be an instinct for his best friend as well. 

San wants to let you and Yeosang have your time so he peels himself off your back and stands, lumbering over to the bathroom to get a warm, damp washcloth to clean you up. You may want a shower later and he knows you’ll want to brush your teeth, but this will do for now. 

When he re-enters the bedroom, Yeosang is laying on his back with you snuggled up against his shoulder. You’re talking quietly with each other, giggling like friends do at a sleepover, and San feels his heart grow five times bigger. He squeezes Yeosang’s free shoulder before he climbs onto the bed and settles in next to you. His hand touches Yeosang’s side when he wraps his arm around you but neither flinch away. They've just been closer to each other than they ever have and ever will be again, a little touching is nothing to them now. 

“So… Did it work?” San asks, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his cheek on your arm so he can look at Yeosang. 

“Did what work?” Yeosang responds with confusion, having not even a clue what San is talking about. 

“We did this so you could work on your confidence, remember? So you can start dating again?” 

“Oh, yeah, for sure, for sure,” Yeosang agrees absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the ceiling. 

“Good, we just want you to be happy,” you whisper drowsily. 

Yeosang doesn’t have the heart to tell either of you that he’s happier now than he’s ever been. And that he’s not sure he really needs to start dating again after all. 

"Babe, do you think you could go sleep on the couch? You know I like my snuggle time, and Temi's already there," San whispers in the dark. Yeosang jerks awake, and, affronted, scream-whispers, "I will go home right now if you make her sleep on the couch, you animal."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" San jerks against you, trying to defend himself from Yeosang's swatting arm. All that does is jostle the three of you closer and somewhere, somehow, in the midst of it all, you fall into blissful, sore slumber.

AN: thank you for being born bestie ily more than life itself! i hope this is everything we dreamed of and more 💖 and thank you @petrichor-mingi for beta reading!!!

#ateez smut #san smut #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang au #yeosang imagines #san x reader #san scenarios #san imagines #choi san ff #choi san imagines #choi san smut #choi san x y/n #choi san scenarios #choi san fic #choi san fanfic #choi san x you #yeosang fic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez san #✨emily writes✨ #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you

[kyluxtrashpit]

Transferring this post from twitter, with some edits and additions, because the mess that was the development of the sequel trilogy fascinates me on an extremely deep level

Okay so. You’re probably aware that Adam Driver gave an interview a few weeks ago where he said that the original plan for Kylo in the sequel trilogy was to get progressively eviler throughout. Which I’m not here for redemption vs corruption arc discourse, that’s not what this post is (because I prefer a secret third option), and what I want to dig into here is what makes this an incredibly curious statement

Because this is the first time anyone involved with the ST has mentioned there ever being a plan. So, let’s explore that for a second because why is he saying something that’s completely at odds with every other piece of information we have?

(behind a cut for length, as I went and pulled a bunch of interview quotes and other materials and then analyzed them, you can scroll to the very bottom for my conclusions if you like)

So first, I went and found this, which I purchased many many years ago in 2017

In it, an interview with RJ himself confirms what the story has been for a long time: there was no plan, there was no required plot points, no endgame to lead to, just absolute freedom (I recall reading this then and feeling a spark of confusion and concern - what do you mean there was no plan?) 

I also found this, and while I don’t have the TLJ art book to verify it, another person on twitter confirmed it and also advised that RJ was even in the know regarding the Aftermath series (confirmed by him and Chuck Wendig at a convention) - so he knew a lot. And this plus the above shows that if there was a plan, it was abandoned before TFA was even released, likely even before it finished filming

And then we have the rather well known moment when JJ himself pretty much confirmed that the ST should have had a plan (question asked was about sw, even if JJ didn’t say it himself). Could this be shade at abandoning a plan instead of never having one? Maybe. But it’s unclear 

And as our last piece of evidence, we have confirmation from RJ that he asked JJ to change the ending of TFA. Which once again shows TFA was not finished when RJ, who explicitly said he was given no plan to follow, was writing TLJ

And that was the story all along, confirmed multiple times over. We can say for sure that as of the writing for TLJ being started, which was before TFA was even finished, let alone released, there was no plan. So it is certain that if there ever was a plan, that plan was abandoned at the very latest in early 2015, but I suspect 2014 is more likely

So why would AD say there ever was one? He has no reason to lie and I don’t think he is, he has nothing to gain and everything to lose by doing so. But with so many other pieces of evidence directly contradicting what he’s saying, I think we can also say that RJ is telling the truth too. But how can both be true?

Well, knowing the mess that is d/lf and also how disney treats actors I think it’s one of two possibilities:

Option 1: there was indeed a plan, likely pitched by JJ himself, and that d/lf agreed to that plan with no intention of ever following it through. They sold the actors on the plan, telling them it was a capital P Plan, but then didn’t ever tell them it had stopped being the plan, so that’s also why we saw the actors becoming increasingly frustrated throughout the series. They were told there was a plan, what the plan was, and then watched none of that come to fruition because it had secretly been abandoned long ago without their knowledge. It’s extremely scummy, but I could see disney doing it

Option 2: the plan was never a firm capital P Plan but rather was just the initial concept JJ had. No one ever committed to it, but since the actors couldn’t see the script, JJ’s initial vision was used as a “here’s my concept” kind of thing to sell the actors on without it being a firm plan. Just a concept that was used at the time but later discarded, as I’m sure a good number of concepts were. But it would be easy for that to get misinterpreted by the actors, and this gives us the less scummy option on the mouse’s part because it’s more about miscommunication than anything else

And if it is option 2, it’s also possible that the actors did know it wasn’t an confirmed plan, just a concept, but clung to those concepts since they were all they had. Which I can understand, given that not knowing the eventual story makes their jobs harder. I can totally see AD sticking with that initial concept even if he knew it wasn’t a “plan” per se, because he had literally nothing else to go on and he needed something to play the role. And once again, given how increasingly frustrated the cast got over the course of the trilogy, I suspect this experience would have been shared among the whole cast

Overall, I lean towards option 2 on this, because even though I do think disney is pretty fucking evil, option 1 might actually be a contract violation or at least open up the possibility of one. And plus, the entire story group would have had to be in on it, and if they did straight up knowingly lie to the entire cast and JJ, I just feel like that would be something which that many people can’t keep secret (plus wouldn’t RJ have accidentally spilled the beans when talking to JJ? Or was he in on it too? Too many players imo). I know it’s disney, but still, things leak all the time (as those of us who followed the tfa or tros leaks know lmao). Plus, I do agree with the adage of assuming stupidity over overt malice when in doubt, so I’m going to stick with that here

So ultimately, my suspicion is this was never a true, capital P, confirmed Plan, but rather the initial concept they used in place of a real plan (which they never made) because d/lf had nothing else to use to sell the actors on it and the actors had nothing else to cling to when actually playing the characters, so they used it where they needed gaps filled. And with it being more likely just a vague concept that was never committed to and was abandoned in 2014 than anything else, well, no matter how good or bad it might have been, I don’t even think it’s worth considering as something we ever would have gotten. It clearly wasn’t in the stars (ha) from very early on and thus belongs in the pile with the rest of the surely very numerous concepts that never came to fruition

And this, kids, is why trilogies need to be fucking planned lmfao

#these are just my thoughts #if there's any other evidence out there that contradicts this I'd be interested to see it #or any thoughts really #but I think this is as close as I'm going to come to cracking it until we someday get a tell all book lmfao #kylo ren #text #my post #meta #I guess

[spadesolace]

countdown

pairing: highschool au! minji x fem! reader

warning/s: angst, internalized homophobia

spring cleaning was a chore you hated but also enjoyed, most of the things you put away haven’t seen the light of day for years. to see some old class pictures in high school, cringy letters you’ve received and questionable literary works you’ve done (gosh, were you really that down in the dumps to write something horrific?) digging deep enough, something caught your eye, an item that you probably just threw in to clean up some space. a bracelet with your initials and someone else. who did you know that had the initials KMJ?

Kim Minji.

something feels heavy, clutching for your chest, breathing unevenly. no, you told yourself that you won’t cry because of her again. everything hurts, somehow it feels as if you can’t cry but you’re shedding tears, the room feels a bit smaller, too small for your liking, and everything is closing in on you. countdown from 10.

10.

Kim Minji…

9.

do you remember me?

8.

was our friendship a waste?

7.

what was it that made you push me away?

6.

was it the way I acted?

5.

was it my feelings?

4.

you know I can’t control it.

3.

if i could…

2.

would things be different?

1.

would things be the same?

“Y/N?”

turning around, you saw minji running to you. dazzling smile that would make heads turn and not look away, her melodic laugh, and the way her eyes shined as if they were the galaxy. letting the girl come to you as she started walking next to you, there was no need to rush, it's only a walk to the library for your english class.

“look what i made.” she showed you her bracelet, a friendship bracelet, with her initials. it had the colors of blue, black, and white. cute. 

minji started explaining how she learned it within a day, even giving you your own but did you want it? well, yes, but it was a friendship bracelet, shouldn’t minji’s initials be yours? probably not, you’re overanalyzing things again, so you took it despite having doubts.

in the middle of the day, before you could go home, minji stopped you on your tracks. exchanging bracelets because hanni told her it was supposed to be the other way (so, you were right), letting her do her thing as she took off her bracelet and wore it on you. something simple and you’re already blushing, it's not like she’s proposing despite having a few thoughts about it. such a simp.

you were self-aware of your feelings for minji and it was getting a bit harder to keep it to yourself but its not like you’re going to confess. there was no point in confessing, minji wasn’t like that, right?

maybe you were wrong, minji came running to you after hearing certain rumors of hanni liking minji in a more than friends way. she was considering it, actually thinking of giving her a chance and now… you just feel empty. there was no advice coming from you or the coldness in your tone was evident, minji wasn’t dense, she just saw right through you. did you act upon your feelings? as if.

minji wasn’t like that, right? she didn’t like hanni that way, if she did you would have known. you were in denial, jealous, a bit possessive but you didn’t have the right to feel that way. just a friend, best friend, close friend, classmates, nothing more. a relationship with minji was a fantasy that you wished for every time, from a wishing well, a shooting star, the candles on your birthday cake, and holding your breath through a tunnel (which was risky). you knew the consequences, it was made aware to you whenever your emotions get the best of you; holding her tighter, cold shoulder, passive-aggressive statements, and sometimes kissing her hand… you were deep in denial.

until she confronted you, through chat, not even in person.

the rest of the school year, you simply messaged her but to no avail, she ghosted you. sending your goodbye on graduation day, minji became a thing of the past as you finally took the bracelet off and said goodbye to that chapter. she was your first love and it brought you pain, misery, and a lot of trauma.

the second time you fell, you didn’t confess, doubting everything, she showed you the beauty of the world and how to love yourself (as cliche as it is). you would do anything for her, because you actually felt loved.

“Y/N?” now, you’re back in your closet, holding your chest, while the bracelet was now on the floor. did you fall asleep?

“its ok, take deep breaths, what happened? another panic attack?” slowly opening your eyes, finally seeing your girlfriend soothing your back as your breathing finally went back to normal.

“y-yeah… just saw this and things went to shit.” you tried laughing at it but she only looked at you concerned, finally noticing the bracelet, you heard her curse under her breath.

“its ok, haerin. i’m fine… how long was i out?”

“about 10 minutes, your mom panicked and called me immediately.”

after that, haerin helped you with spring cleaning, letting her finish the one with your high school items to avoid any more incidents. your mind wandered, does she miss you? did she regret what she did? or was everything nothing to her?

minji is the past, haerin is your present and your future. still, you wanted to send your thanks to minji for helping you grow as a person. wherever she is, you hope not to see her again.

“y/n, come on, let’s get some ice cream.” minji was right, you and haerin really had a thing going and you regret not taking it early.

#minji x reader #kim minji #kim minji newjeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #kpop x reader #kpop gg #angst

[melinoelliones]

Valentines Akira Fluff

You and Akira had decided to spend the night together once again, however today was no ordinary day, it was Valentines Day.

2.1K Words  

This is pure fluff/hurt/comfort, all SFW 

Happy Valentines Day Rena my love!! Yes, I got you for the server exchange and believe you me, it was hard to keep it a secret. I know you’re an Akira lover so I tried my best, oblivious bf x obvious gf realness. 

This reader represents Rena and how she acts so just be aware. Also she/her is used.

LOVE U RENA BABY, ENJOY

@kaveehs

I got the idea from The Neighbourhood You Get Me So High.

ALSO SIDE NOTE I’VE NEVER WRITTEN FLUFF SO THIS ISN’T THE BEST💔 

Oblivious. If you had to describe Akira in one word, that would be it. You could gift this boy a million roses and a diamond ring yet he’d still have no clue unless you spelt it out for him, you’d know that better than anyone.

You and Akira had been close since the day he transferred to Shujin Academy; trips to  Akihabara together, staying round one anothers houses, you had even joined The Phantom Thieves of Hearts for him. You were joint at the hip, the usual quiet and well mannered Akira was the complete opposite when around you, you brought out a new side to him. You were what Akira had needed to come out of his shell and truly live up to the title of “Leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts”.

Those feats aside, you had a soft spot for him, not the Leader, not the Joker, just Akira, his regular old self. One could say you had fallen for him, but you wondered what was the point if the other showed nothing back, especially considering the amount of times you hinted at wanting to explore something further.

“Can you get in already, it’s getting cold under here” you whined, Akira was allowing a draft to make its way under the duvet as he was lightly perched off the side of the bed, “Alright alright im coming”. He carefully slid himself under sheet, making sure to cover any possible openings as he knew you loathed the feeling of letting ‘warmth out’.

You were spending the night at Akira’s place tonight, this was super common for you guys as you spent what seemed like every waking minute together, his home slowly became your home. No hidden motives or agendas, just a casual ‘night over’ as you will, however the following day was a special one, or so you had hoped anyway. 

The small silence was followed up by some idle chit chat between you too, the usual rundown of your day and what to do the next. “What time is it by the way? My phone is charging” you asked, just curious as to how late it had possibly gotten while you talked, “It’s….. almost 12, what? We should probably get some sleep while we can, everyone's coming over to the shop early tomorrow” Akira exclaimed, his eyes in shock as to how quick time passed when you guys spoke.

“Oh, okay that's fair, but just curious, you do… know what day it is tomorrow right?” you questioned, the slight glimmer of hope that he’d remember or even care for that matter slowly fading as he responded, “Feburary 14th? What about it?”, confusion written all over his face.

“It’s Valentine's Day Akira?”, you scoffed in utter disbelief. “So? Is there something I'm not getting at, it's just like any other day is it not?”, Kurusu stared blankly, the nonchalant tone in his voice tipping you over the edge but you attempted to hold it in. Your heavy heart almost pushing tears to your eyes.

If he didn’t see the importance of the day then why show him any signs that you did? You knew deep down that he wouldn’t feel the same way you did, yet you would always try and dig for the minute signs that would tell you otherwise. Delusional is what Ann would always say but that wasn’t always a bad thing to be, but in this instance yet again, she was right. 

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you turnt to face the wall, covering yourself with the blanket you simply let out a sharp “Maybe to you it is, but whatever Akira, night”. The boys eyes fixed on the ball you had curled yourself into, sheets over your head to muffle your sorry attempt at controlled breaths to halt the flood of tears which were starting to trickle down your cheeks. You hoped he would assume they were soft snores however he could hear them clear as day. He went to tap your shoulder before catching himself, he watched on as the sheets shifted around as you repeatedly wiped the tears for him not to notice.

His heart sank, why were you so distraught, he didn't feel as if he had said anything out of the ordinary. In roughly an hour it was Valentines Day, what about it was special? You both weren't in any couple, you had no upcoming plans other than the meeting tomorrow, so it was just a regular Tuesday.

Akira slid out from his side of the bed making sure to grab his phone from the nightstand before silently slipping away.  “What was that all about?” he muttered to himself as he crept down the stairs from his attic room, “I feel like i’m missing something but what is it?”. 

The neverending unanswered questions engulfed his tired mind as he hit the cafe floor. Pulling out his phone he decided to text the group chat for advice, if he ever needed honesty those people were the ones to go to.

Akira - ‘Is tmr an important day? I’ve been made to feel like it is but with no explanation?”  

Morgana - ‘........’

Ann - ‘You did not do what I think you did.’

Ryuji ‘Fucking idiot’

Ann ‘We’ll be there in 10, don’t do anything else stupid’

Akira ‘I didn’t even finish?’

Seen by everyone

Taken slightly aback by their responses Akira slumped himself across one of the booths in the cafe, the sound of the clock ticking away as he waited. Morgana emerged from the corridor not too long after the last message had sent, without a word he curled into a ball on the edge of the table, “hmmpth”.

As the minutes went by Akira could feel himself drifting off, before he could act on said feelings he was rudely awoken by the front door slamming open, any home training those two had been given were long gone. “AKIRA KURUSU” they bellowed in unison causing Morgana to shudder off the table.

The new group members begun to make themselves comfortable as Akira perked up, the aura in the room wasn’t the usually upbeat one, he knew he had done something wrong just by that and the looks on their faces. 

“Who knew Akira was as stupid as Ryuji” Morgana splurted out sarcastically, changing from his cat form to regular form, “HEY? STUPID CAT this isn’t about me” Ryuji spat back, “anyway back to the matter at hand here, you really don’t understand why tomorrow is a big day?”. Akira shook his head in response, he truly had no clue, if he did he’d probably be fast asleep like he wanted to be.

Deciding to add her two cents into the conversation, Ann lent over the booth Akira was sat on, “she likes you Mr Phantom Troupe Leader, you can’t truly be that blind can you? I told her you didn’t feel the same but she doesn’t liste-”, “what are you talking about Ann? I do like her, I have always liked her?” Akira cut her off, his tone showing genuine confusion as he perked up in his booth.

“If you liked her, why did you act as if tomorrow was a regular day idiot? It’s not as if she hasn’t given you endless hints and clues…. let's be honest here”, Morgana choked out, he couldn’t contain his laughter any longer, the situation was beyond humorous to the little cat guy.

“Maybe I am blind, I didn’t see any of the hints, signs, any of that. I thought I was chasing something beyond my reach” Akira sighed as he slipped himself out of his seat and towards the locked cabinet opposite the stairs, the group watched on, heavily intrigued as to what he was doing. “Let me just show you guys” he huffed, pulling a key from the grate by the stairs to unlock the overflowing case.

Akira grabbed an armful of items from one of the shelves before aimlessly scattering them across the booth table the rest were sat at, their faces as if they were deer in the headlights. “What IS all this?” Ann spoke up, asking what everyone else was thinking. “Look closer” was all he responded with.

As they all rummaged through the items the pieces started to piece themselves together little by little. Lying before them were heaps of items from trips they had all been on ranging from figures and manga from Akihabara to photographs of you and Akira doing day to day activities, some of them were simply of you sleeping and pointing at things. 

Ann looked up at Akira, his eyes softening as Morgana shifted through the photos, “You do like her, don’t you” she asked sincerely, her hand tightening on his shoulder as a cheshire cat smile emerged on her face, “I have an idea, have you got anything to wrap with? A bag even?” she quizzed him as she paced back and forth.

Walking back over to the cabinet he pulled out a gift box, “I have this from one of the prizes I won on a crane game?” he suggested, unsure as to if that would be okay, “Perfect, everyone pick one item to put inside, this will be her gift!”, Ryuji added, trying to immerse himself into the activities. ”So you caught on I see” she chuckled to herself. Everyone carefully placed an item inside, Akira slipping in a few of his favourite photos at the top for you to see.

Taking a step back to admire the last minute gift, the group silently patted themselves on the back for the fast thinking. Ann passed Akira the box, her brows narrowing as she spoke, “go give this to her, but in all seriousness Akira, no one should go to bed upset. We’ll see you tomorrow”, her sincere tone clinging to him as she proceeded to leave the cafe followed by Ryuji, “She’s right u know” he chipped in as the door closed behind him.

Akira’s eyes shot to the cat facing him head on,”have anything to say there?” he asked sarcastically, “absolutely not, go to bed” Morgana hissed, strolling past him, tail held high. Akira sent a quick thank you text to the group before taking himself back to his bedroom, not before locking the bookcase, that was to be a secret between him and the others, for now anyway.

Akira slid into his side of the bed in hopes of not waking you but failed, you rolled over to notice him with a large box, the tense smile on his face baffling you. As you sat up he passed you it, “did you really go out at this hour and buy stuff just because of our conversation? What makes you think i want your pity gifts? Goodnight Akira” you scoffed, as you attempted to roll back over he placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“I love you”, the boy blurted out, the newly found frown on your face deepening before he continued. “I love you, I have for quite some time to be fair, I’m an idiot to have not taken the hints you sent me seriously, I shouldn’t have even needed you to show hints for me to muster up the courage to say it. This is also no pity gift, inside are items I deem thoughtful, every trip we take you point and I watch your eyes light up at your favourite things but you always say “I can't justify it”. You deserve more than any item on a shelf but in here are a couple things I noticed that piqued your interest in stores along with photos I took of you when I found you the happiest, I’ve had these for a while I pay attention to all that you do and take note of any little thing you say. You’re my best friend, and I’ll love you forever, Happy Valentines Day.” he spilled, letting every thought on his mind free. 

Speechless, you watched as Akira cupped your tear stained cheeks, his thumbs wiping the tears you hadn’t realised had started to fall. Pulling you closer you whispered “you’re sweet when you speak your mind”, an innocent smile making its way to your lips. “Is that so” he cheekily smirked, placing your lips on his, your lips gliding over one another effortlessly. The kiss was short but sweet, pulling away you could feel your cheeks heating up as your nervousness kicked in.

Akira planted a quick kiss on your forehead, he could tell you were flustered, “can I open this in the morning? I’m exhausted” you asked softly, he nodded whilst you placed the box on your bedside table. Akira let out a yawn as he slid deeper into the bed, “we need to be up early tomorrow, we should get atleast some sleep” he laughed, arms out for you to lay with him.

You allowed yourself to be pulled into him, his arms wrapping around your waist as you rested your head on his chest, “goodnight Akira, I love you”, you giggled as you noticed his heartbeat speed up as you spoke, “Goodnight my love”.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #akira kurusu #akira kurusu x fem reader #akira kurusu fluff #valentines day fluff #meli noel's work #p5 #p5 fluff #p5 x reader #fluff #fem reader #persona 5 royal #akira x reader #kurusu akira #kurusu akira x reader #joker x reader #meli noel #meli noel work's

[fruit-salad-ship]

BNHA 2.0

Ok I’ve been revamping BNHA au. I don’t like the story I’d made, fun but not my speed. So this second attempt ignores all the canon characters in the show, and probably happens way after whatever the show is doing now, in a totally different country. This is literally just me playing with world building blocks, not the story we know.

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A child is born to an unfit family, too busy for their daughter, ignorant to her quickly developing quirk. She is alone for so long until one day she becomes aware of her requests for time and attention becoming heard. It’s hard for her to tell why there’s been a sudden change, but she sleeps well when she gets days with her parents, blind to the fact that her deep sleep is from using up all her energy activating her quirk. She grows up realising that her family only love her at times, she eventually understands that she’s using her power to get their attention. The second she can’t keep it up, they go back to ignoring her, disliking her. The parents become wise to her power, scold her, are adamant that she must leave the house, she’s manipulative, she’s making them do things they don’t want to do which is the simple act of giving their child love, time, and attention. She is resented. She is removed from her family home.

Now you have a young girl with a quirk that can get any truth, anyone to say anything, it can get an item, food, money, shelter, even moments of strong emotion, it can provide so much with little to no trace. She is deemed too dangerous, she is removed from society, taken to a maximum security prison at a young age, isolated from the world until she hit her teens. Escape is easy once she figures out how. A touch of the hand, brush of the elbow, that’s all it takes for her to be in your head directing you. Plum is smart enough to know she’s on her own from here on out. She is quick to gain work, villains mostly, she runs with petty criminals, thieves, pick pockets, people who teach her that trust is not a luxury they can afford. Some try to take advantage of her, she’s young, they’re not, but plum learns her quirk can end people just as easily as any strength based power. In fact, easier. She kills. A lot of people. All who stand to threaten her in any way, it was self defence at first but eventually she developed a habit of tying up loose ends.

Plum at age 20 is cut throat, she’s been left to figure out her own path in life, a path that is lonely, but to her, lonely is ordinary. She’s always felt like that, like something huge was missing. By 25, she’s figured out how to remove anyone and anything from her life that scares her. She hasn’t run with petty criminals in years, instead mixing with politicians, leaders, CEOs, the top 1% who need her work to secure their ideal outcomes. Plums living a luxurious life, a nice car, a house, all the nice clothes and expensive jewels she could want, yet still she feels alone. By 30 she has messed with one too many high flying business man, crossed a few too many more. She’s hired home security, has guards, but seems they can’t quite hack it when faced with real powerful quirks. Not just grunts, she’s being hunted by actual hitmen now. Her money has to be invested more intelligently, she needs to be safe. Plum asks around, snoops and digs until one of her informants suggest a known wanted criminal who’s recently entered the system looking for employment. Plums fascinated, the file on this one is wide spread destruction, photos of craters in concrete, in steel, news articles showing the sheer power of this individual. It’s noted that no one knows their identity, and they seem to have an incredibly adaptive quirk that allows for evasion and escape too.

A meeting is set, and soon plum gets to stand in the same room as this individual. They’re masked up, dark gear, not talkative, simple yes-no answers. It’s a woman’s voice under there, but the build of her is powerful, tall, broad. Code name: Kingslayer, plum makes an offhand comment that she’s thankful she’s a queen then, and the pair agree mutually to a price, a schedule, and a few ground rules, notably that plums word is law, and fighting that is pointless. She explains her quirk briefly as a suggestion one, and asks of the woman’s. She says it’s a gravity quirk, plain and simple. Both women are lying to a high degree, it’s a lot more complicated than that. Explaining it is pointless however, all Kingslayer has to do, is keep her boss alive and well, and she gets paid in cash. Perfect. Only drawback is her boss is a clear asshole, but she supposed she’s worked for worse, least the pays good, who cares.

Peach, aka, the hired killer, has done this work for far too long, a child born of a volatile quirk marriage, after trying and failing to keep several children prior to her alive, bad genetics leading to quirks the kids bodies could not handle, her parents finally got lucky with peach. Her abilities manifested in what seemed like mundane gravity effects at first, but the more she grew, the more it was apparent that this was anything but. She was swiftly shipped away and trained, her family happy to sell her off to the highest bidder as a temporary rental. She was valuable, and as soon as she could prove it with a density quirk, as it grew and took shape, her work began. High demand for someone who can do what she did. It didn’t come without mistake, without injury. She learnt fast that her quirk had severe repercussions if done incorrectly. But peach trudged on, no option to get out, simply to climb the ranks. So climb she did. Past others, past her peers and cousins, past everyone in her way. Keeping her mask on was the only way to separate her work from her life, and thanks to keeping that habit up, peach was able to live a relatively normal life when she wasn’t working.

No matter what way you look at it, both women had found their way through immeasurable trauma brought on by a set of skills they’d not had a choice over, things they’d been simply “gifted” at birth. One was never left alone, pushed so hard by others that she became unstoppable. The other completely abandoned, pushed so hard by herself that she became ungovernable. Plum has the ability to gain anything she wants for limited time, but is always abandoned, she’s become fearful of making connections that don’t require her quirk to keep the other person happy and occupied, her trust is fleeting, so sure no one will stay if she doesn’t make them. She’s fine with peach’s few rules when working, accepts that the mask is a safety thing and will NOT come off, and hears her when she says to listen during an emergency situation.

Their relationship is tense, plum has all the control normally, and eventually ends up using her quirk to find out more about the woman she’s hired. It can extract truths, and when her bodyguard is cagey about things she’s coaxed to talk more, to give away details. It takes no time at all for the truths to come out, it’s little things at first, things that make this masked figure human to her, and if it’s human, it’s vulnerable in plums mind. Trivial questions like her hired hands favourite flavour, or what movies she likes best seem like nothing, but this is plum testing the water, pushing her luck. Peach let’s it slide, it’s harmless, until that is the girls collide, confront each other, and plum gets in with her quirk quickly, calms peach down and reiterates who the boss is. She peels back a glove ever so slightly to get a glimpse of this woman’s skin, so pale against such dark clothes. Nothing stops plum sitting in her guards lap and asking questions, getting answers, she’s holding all the power. Peach is fully aware of what’s happening, and could technically stop it, but it’d involve hurting her boss, a bad move for any employee looking to keep their record relatively clean. This is not the first person to push her, and it wouldn’t be the last, she puts up with it.

Plum feels rather fascinated by peach, the truths she’s extracted from her lead her to believe they’ve had to endure a lot, she feels kinship here, though she hardly recognises that feeling, doesn’t pay it any attention, too afraid that like everyone else, her guard will leave, she’s only here for money. The isolation is hard on her, plum never wants it, and peach eternally seeks it after being obsessively groomed to kill from a young age. She never had free time, so now her days off are sacred, giving that time up is not preferable. The girls have insane sexual tension, something that gives way to plum 100% using her quirk to get this woman to touch her, to make it so peach is not in control, that she remembers she does not hold the power in this dynamic, no matter how strong she is. Peach still does not break free, is grouchy about it, sasses plum a bit, tells her this is not a wise decision as her boss peels her mask up JUST enough to see the bottom half of her face, the scar on her lip, the complete contrast of her pale skin. They share a lot of hostile moments of passion, volatile, toxic, loaded confrontations that are just power plays, situations peach always loses. Brain over brawn seems to triumph here, so long as peach isn’t really trying to negate her boss’ quirk, so long as she doesn’t use her ult.

Plum is so afraid to NOT use her quirk because people won’t like the person she is, she knows what she does is bad, but being alone is scary, terrifying even. She hates it. No one is ever there for her without a reason, money, blackmail, manipulation, personal gain. Even this guard, this woman she’s come to rather enjoy, is only temporary. Plum is surrounded by people, but totally isolated.

There comes a time where plum’s life is endangered, she wrongs someone and they send killers after her. Her guard is tested, and she passes with flying colours. This happens repeatedly, over a long period of time, months of attempts on her boss’ life, and peach handles it. Her quirk is anything BUT a gravity quirk, plum comes to realise this seeing it in action first hand. With each failed attempt on plums life, the foe get tougher, people hire bigger, meaner assassins, until one day there is actually a viable threat that Kingslayer just can’t seem to slay. Peach tells her boss to hide, and not move from this spot no matter what, she’ll be back. Plum does as she’s told, but after a few minutes alone, she starts to panic. What if she’s been lied to? What if her guard just ran away and let her for dead. Plum leaves the hiding spot, starts to try to sneak out of the area, only to get nearly killed in one hit. Peach manages to step in just in time, but the fight is harder, instead of just going up against an enemy, now the guard has to attack them and defend plum. Her quirk is not built well for group tactics. They get out of this tense showdown alive, plums untouched, peach is hurt but fine, it’s nothing too serious. Their escape to a safe house is followed up by a moment to breathe.

Peach shouts at her boss, finally snapped, that she should have stayed hidden like she said, what she did was reckless and stupid, she could have died! Their arguing gets so heated, plum hasn’t been confronted like this before, not so accurately at least because peach has sat and watched her. She’s good at her job because she watches. Predicts quite accurately how someone will act, what makes them tick, their nature. She’s done this to her boss too habitually. Plums an insecure, lonely, untrusting woman with too much power and no use for it other than herself, and today she put both their lives at risk because she couldn’t trust. Plum hates it, hates being called out. Normally she’d get rid of someone who did this, just kill them, but she can’t, peach is all she’s got. Cornered, plum gets defensive, they argue more, and peach cant see the row going anywhere, so frustrated with how her boss is acting, how stubborn and blind she’d being. Peach grabs her arm and pulls her, hard, directly into her, this little woman’s gone through a lot today, she needs this. This lady who’s spent forever alone, who cant seem to even understand companionship of any kind, is suddenly engulfed in this hug. It’s all consuming, she instinctively activated her quirk upon being grabbed, a defensive reaction, peach felt it take hold, but if Plum doesn’t say any directions or commands, it doesn’t take effect…And plum in her shock of being held doesn’t say a word, arms around her surround in a way that feels like a shield. It’s so painfully obvious that this woman has never been held in a way that wasn’t initiated by her own wants. Plum can smell this woman’s perfume? Buried up in all the dark layers, swimming in just how full on this cuddle is, never had this before, not like this. The tears come, and they can’t seem to stop.

After that moment of weakness and a second to collect herself, Plum can’t even begin to fathom what peach is staying around for, she can’t give her the agreed money right now, she can’t offer her much of anything in this safe house, there’s no incentive for peach to stay and protect her. Imagine the boss’ surprise, not forcing an answer with her quirk from the only person who’s not run, when peach expresses that it’s simply the right thing to do, that even killers can have morals. That big woman is surprisingly well adjusted considering the upbringing she had. She has a keen eye and an observant mind. She sees plum and can only truly notice the scared lonely woman who has no real support, no one around to keep her grounded and comfortable. When she’s hurt she doesn’t tell anyone, when she’s stressed it never comes out, when she’s afraid she puts a brave face on. It’s all a front, there’s no two ways about it. All the months working for her and she never saw loved ones or friends, nothing. Peach can’t be unnecessarily unkind to someone who’s had enough of that for one lifetime. Perhaps she’s going soft, or she’s grown attached to this little woman and her awful behaviour, but theres something compelling in there, and its not her quirk telling her that.

Not a day goes by where plum doesn’t question her guards sincerity, they’re held up in this safe house making sure its ok to emerge again, and each moment that ticks by she’s wondering who’s bought Peach out, who’s managed to pull the rug from under her, people don’t just ‘do the right thing’. So finally, at her wits end with Plum’s caution, peach sits her down and holds her hand out. Her quirk can get any truth from someone right? So get the truth from her right now. Ask anything, and see that some people cannot be bought, or swayed, and do just tell the truth on occasion. Peach is so aware of how much this woman is still just a frightened child on the inside, she knows, she was there emotionally too, still is some days… so plum and her sit at a little breakfast table and plum goes to take her hand, asks her to tell truths, why she’s there, why help, why not leave? And the responses she gets are all real answers. She hears someone say that they actually enjoy her, even if she’s a brat and awful at times, certainly complex and toxic, but theres something strangely compelling about her.

Peach just wants to help her shed some of that fear she’s carrying around. The moments of physical contact, of sex, be it initiated by plum or not, has given way to tiny glimpses of plum as she really is, afraid, longing, lonely in a big world that was cruel to her. It left her reliant on whatever tools she had at her disposal. Theres no way Peach could ignore the way she would stay so close during those moments she was in control, where she could let her guard down a little, Plum would always hold her tight, even if it’s just hooking her finger around one of peach’s, or running a hand back to touch her. This woman who could get anything she wanted, was truly touch starved, not at all as calm and composed as she made out to be. There were enough occasions where Plum had gotten her quirk under Peach’s skin and immediately asked her to come closer, to hold her, be physical with her in numerous ways that while masked with an imbalanced power dynamic were actually all lined with gentle intimacy.No amount of money or power can make up for an empty heart, for her isolation. Peach saw right through her trying to hide behind the casual sex plum would demand, it was just a front.

Kingslayer is a notoriously hard person to find out about. No one knows her identity, and she likes to keep it that way. But when no one sees, and she’s out of the gear, she’d just a regular old citizen. Her free time spent feeding stray dogs, tending to plants, taking in the world around her with an appreciation that comes when you spend so much time destroying things, killing people. She’s surprisingly calm and jolly when she’s not working, people like her, she’s not at all as unkind and distant as you’d expect compared to the stoic front she has up for work. Plum has never seen this, hell, she’s never seen more than fragments of this woman’s body, little peaks. She has threatened to get peach to take the mask off on a number of occasions, but honestly? Plum would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little afraid of this woman. When she first saw her file, the destruction peach left behind, there were craters in photos, aftermaths of her fights. And yet plum’s not seen her do that yet, has no idea what kind of power she’s got. If she pushes peach too hard, will she lash out at her? A risk not worth taking, so far she’s been nothing but agreeable during work, kept her safe, better to not ruin it.

An opportunity comes up at a masquerade ball situation, Plum needs to get in there and infiltrate, charm, rub elbows with a powerful man, convince him to make a little phone call to tell his guards at his office to just go home, then to forget about it. Just lose that memory. But it’s a rather raunchy gathering, and plum is required to bring a guest, someone too ‘offer up’ into what is essentially a trade raffle, one night where people swap their guests and get a little freaky in this huge mansion where the party is held. She considers an escort, but then she’s going in without a guard. Brings this up with Peach who’s completely covered up all the time, says that its a masquerade-like event, she could still keep her face covered, no one would know. Peach worries about being exposed, her hair colour is a little odd sure, and theres no way she can expose skin, too many scars that are very telling. Thats a whole lot of people to kill if she’s revealed. No one sees her face and lives, it’s how she’s stayed safe this long. Plum says she wont even be there more than a few minutes, it’s just to get security called off elsewhere, they can leave as soon as she’s done. Through gritted teeth Peach agrees, if plum gets in trouble and dies, finding another job is effort she doesn’t really want to expend.

The pair end up dressed to kill, Peach does the full 3 piece suit, keeps gloves on, a black and white mask much like an old court jester, just glittery and elaborate, something plum picked out, but it did cover everything, hair included. She feels better about this. Not like her quirk requires weapons or gear, she doesn’t have to carry anything. Plums killing it in this regal looking dress, mask covering just the top of her face, gems and feathers, she’s making sure she’s noticed by her target. They show up, plum on the arm of her guard, staff walking around in barely anything, drinks offered, peach turns it down, plum takes one up. They seem to draw attention, this is the opposite of what peach is use to, but plum is thriving in this, it’s her thing, she fits in here amongst the arrogant and rich, blending in to take advantage of them. Honestly though? Her eye keeps wandering back to her guard, who’s really quite something to see dressed smart, she drags out the night just to see the raffle through, walk up on that stage and present her darling guest, her offering, and watch Peach play it very cool after whispering to her that they need to hurry up and get the hell out of here, she’s not being locked in a room with any of these people.

Plum sneaks off and does what she came to do, charms her way into the inner circle, gets to her mark, uses her quirk to call security off, and gets out casually. It’s all done, Peach watching her closely the whole time, trying not to give too much time to the people fascinated with her, and more so, the one man and his wife who’d purchased her time in the raffle. She’s quietly nervous, killing them would be such a pain. The girls regroup and go to leave, stopped by security, easily bypassed as plum touches their arm gently and smiles, tells them to let her and peach go, a sudden emergency has come up, this party can wait. They very nearly get out, but it’s been seen on the security cameras that they’re going, and someones paid for peach tonight, they can’t just let them leave now. Fine. They stay. Peach is irritated, getting chatted to by the couple who’d invested in her, plum watching on, amused, with a twinge of jealousy that she can’t place. Time comes, peach leaves with the couple, goes up to a room, they start to try to charm her into losing the suit, but she simply places a hand on each one of them calmly, and they fall. Grasping at their chests, trying to fight what’s happening, they feel their hearts heavy in their chests. Peach made their vital organs so dense they ceased to work. To most it would look like a heart attack, her quirk would wear off and they’d be untouched, no bruises no poison, no fighting. She places them in the bed making them light as feathers so she hardly has to touch them, after getting them out most of their clothes to throw around the room, making sure this scene looks like they’ve just overdone it, opened a bottle of Champagne, drank some of it to kill time, three glasses knocked or placed in natural ways. To anyone looking at this, the scene feels normal. The two bodies in the bed just look like they’re sleeping. Peach waits a couple hours, exits, leaving the ‘do not disturb’ tab on the door handle, retuning to the party.

The girls get to leave, unbothered by the security this time, and Plum wonders what happened in that room Peach wont tell her, says it doesn’t matter. She was in there a while though, and came out looking untouched give or take. It doesn’t matter, the job tonight was completed, they get home, peach back to her gear, far more comfortable now. Things play out smoothly, but plum HAS to know what happened, finally confronting peach with her one special brand of brat, saying if she doesn’t tell her what happened, she’ll use her quirk on her and get the truth anyway. A fair point, and not at all an empty threat. Peach explains she gave them heart attacks and leaves it at that. The ‘you can’t be that good’ comment that comes after gets the first ever genuine laugh from the guard. Plum didn’t expect to hear that, watching her composure crack and shake as she chuckles away at her comment. Plum’s heart jumps. She didn’t know she wanted this woman’s laughter in her life until that exact moment. The situation is explained clearer, another little branch of this woman’s horrifying quirk uncovered. It is so painfully adaptable, but only because Peach was trained ruthlessly her whole life. There was no breaks, no days off, no time to yourself, every waking moment was a drill, a test, a fight for your life, and she fought HARD. Plum didn’t have to coax her to answer her questions, seemed Peach was happy to oblige this one.

———————————————

I don’t know where Plum would finally see her guards face, like in its entirety, but it’d have to be dramatic as all hell! Be it Plum forcing her to take the mask off for some reason during an argument, or Peach ripping it off due to no other choice, injury, a quirk making it the only option, frustration. Maybe it’s even a moment of ‘I trust you, I’m letting you in, you have to see that trust is a two way street.’ MAYBE plum does something very thoughtful and open, which is not in her nature so she gets the only thing peach can give her, total transparency. Plum getting so hurt Peach as to give CPR? The mask HAS to come off, she’s not usually one to save people but this is different, she’s come to like this little shit of a boss. Comes around and sees the relief in a person face that she’s ok.

Idk yet guys, im just playing with ideas to avoid life stress rn.

I was thinking bout Grey being the personal trainer peach hires as a civilian, his quirk is a great counter to hers and she likes to train against that kind of a skill to gain tolerance. Drinking buddies. Maybe he’s got a t hing for her, and she don’t see it, or feel the same, but they just stick it out? Unsure, he was honestly an afterthought.

He could also very well be a cop trying to catch the girl out, always missing. But it leaves little to work with, not that id focus on him much haha, soz grey.

#bnha au #revamp #fruit salad

[videogamelover99]

What is the biggest Skk mischaracterization in fics that you see that you wish was gone or some tweaks you’d like to see changed? Personally my favorite things to see in fics is Dazai’s underlying struggle with sentimentality while also being a little bit of a control freak

OH BOY OH BOY ANON I IMMEDIATELY KNEW THE ANSWER TO THIS.

Chuuya's characterization bothers the fuck outta me when it's done wrong. Dazai's too, but that fucker has masks upon masks and you can at least attribute some of the ooc behavior to that in order to enjoy the story. Chuuya? No, Chuuya is very frank about most things, so if you fuck him up it's soooo obvious.

My biggest pet peeve is probably when anyone writes Chuuya as a pining, sad mess who's relying on Dazai's approval for his own sense of worth, because it is the most prevalent mischaracterization out there and it's! So wrong!

Chuuya's feelings about Dazai (and most things where he has to question himself, in general), are hidden under such a deep level of denial that a bulldozer won't dig far enough to pull it out. He doesn't give two shits to Dazai's opinion (even if said opinion does, subconciously, influence him), because he understands where Dazai's awful outlook on the world comes from, and he thinks it's bullshit (I am begging people to read Stormbringer especially now since the official translation is out). He's not the one waiting around for Dazai to show up, he has his own life! It doesn't mean that he doesn't care, it means that he lies to himself that he doesn't care, and so any POV of Chuuya's has to account for that. His hurt about Dazai leaving would most likely diverge into "well I always knew he was an ass, it figures" rather than a hit to his own self esteem, at least on the surface. It's always important to know what feelings your character is aware of consciously vs subconsiously, with soukoku especially.

How do you show it then? Well, how Asagiri shows it, through actions. If you notice, he doesn't actually spend all that much time talking about what Dazai or Chuuya think on a deeper level in their POVs, prefering to show it through their actions or the eyes of others (Adam, Oda). Chuuya says he would be glad if Dazai up and died in a ditch somewhere when Dazai wasn't answering his calls in Stormbringer, but damn is it clear, with the threat of Verlaine killing everyone important to Chuuya, that he's actually worried. He sure as hell doesn't show it though! And I doubt he wants to aknowledge it in his own mind.

(Dazai, I think, is a little more prone to self-examination, but teen!Dazai's got similar issues with lying to himself or not wanting to think about something he doesn't like so)

I also just, really want to see more scenes with each character showing their strengths. With Dazai, it's obviously his mind, the way he can manipulate a situation in his favor through very subtle means, but his ability to read the room also comes down to his inability to cope with the lack of information. So it's mostly a combination of "look how cool Dazai is" (written well) and "wow he sure done fucked up this one huh" (I wanna see him fail and not know what to do for once, but feel satisfying).

With Chuuya, his strengths come from both his quick thinking and his skill as a fighter, which, you know, it's surprisingly hard to find a good fight scene with him. A fic I read had a fight scene inspired by the Birds of Prey movie, which, yes, is exactly what we should be going for, actually XD a cinematic scene showing off that character's skills. Chuuya keeps getting Godzilla fights...I want more scenes where he's giving the most dangerous government ability users in the country a hard fucking time by throwing bullets out of a helicopter really fast...or him just beating up a lot of guys with the objects at hand. You know, cool shit.

#that helicopter scene will forever be the best chuuya scene i stand by that #i keep writing about how to write fic but not actually writing fic...maybe one day #bungou stray dogs #bsd #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #soukoku #asks

[hendolish]

Your ficlets are so amazing!!!!!

I wonder, do you have any headcanons for your ships (I'm sorry can't choose one) with engagement? Who's the one who propose, when it happens and reaction?

I'm sorry if i make it complicated!

proposal headcanons ♡

hendolish

hendo would totally be the one to propose and he’d definitely put in a lot of effort into making sure they have the best day together leading up to a fancy dinner; sleepy and loving morning sex (jack’s favourite kind) and taking skye on a walk along the beach together beforehand. however, jack being jack, doesn’t really catch on that he’s being proposed to until hendo’s literally down on one knee in front of him because hendo does nice things for him like, all the time, anyway.

honestly, he hasn’t much thought about marriage before. it has nothing to do with jordan or their relationship it just hasn’t ever crossed his mind, probably bc he’s the younger of the two. but then as soon as jack sees jordan lowering himself onto one knee and he finally catches on to what’s about to happen, he thinks about marrying jordan; spending the rest of their lives together, growing old and all that, and suddenly he’s never wanted anything more in his life. yes, he says almost too loudly, the words ripping from his lungs, yes, hendo… i— yes. of course i’ll marry you. and jordan kisses him before anything else stupid can come out of his mouth, both with huge grins digging into their cheeks.

stonesford

jordan proposes to john and he’s a sap deep down so he wants it to be romantic and perfect but knows john wouldn’t want much of a fuss so he tries to strike up a middle ground for them both by doing it all in the comfort of their own home. he tidies everything up and makes it look nice before john comes back from training. there’s no roses or anything but he does light a few candles because they have them anyway and never burn them and dims the lights slightly. when john arrives home he’s still in his training gear, which is perfect really, jordan thinks, because it’s so informal and normal and just them.

john shouts hello and jordan calls him to the lounge. when john enters, it’s with a reproachful eye and a sigh, ‘don’t tell me the power’s gone out again, we really should just—‘ he pauses when he catches jordan standing there in the middle of the room, probably looking more nervous than usual, and he’s never nervous, and fiddling with something inside his jacket pockets until he pulls out his hand to reveal a ring between his fingers . ‘you …no way...’ john stutters then, sounding like he doesn’t know what else to say. ‘yep,’ jordan quips back, grinning giddily but feeling like the ring might slip from his shaky grasp any minute, ‘only if you want, of course.’ john calls him an idiot before rushing over to kiss him senseless in answer.

benaaron

okay so, the obvious answer here is that aaron proposes to ben. he’d make it ridiculously romantic and sappy, whisking ben away on some romantic holiday where they get to live in their own little bubble for a week or two before he pops the question… which is why i love to imagine it happening in a completely different way where ben proposes to aaron before aaron has the chance.

it goes like this: they’re tucked up in bed together because it’s winter and the heating hasn’t kicked in yet, bathing in each other’s warmth as they watch the snow begin to fall outside talking about stuff, and ben just says something like, ‘dunno why everyone’s getting married abroad these days, i’d love for it to snow at our wedding’. and aaron’s hand abruptly stops combing through ben’s hair. our he’d said.

ben seems unfazed and completely aware of what he’s just said as well, cheek still pressed comfortably against aaron’s chest, so it wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. aaron hopes, anyway. ‘you want that?’ he checks, feeling a burning need to, ‘with me?’ ben cranes his neck to give him a look that most certainly conveys, ‘who tf else would i be marrying?’ and aaron rushes to lean down and kiss him because he feels like his heart is about to burst from his chest.

♡

#went with my main ships for this but v happy to fill requests for other pairings with this headcanon hehe 🫶🏻 #england #england national team #england nt #england football #football #football rpf #hendolish #jack grealish #jordan henderson #stonesford #john stones #jordan pickford #benaaron #ben white #aaron ramsdale #headcanon #fics

[sirendeepity]

[ Nessian Week, day 7: Free Day ]

A/N: Did this one-shot sit half done in my drafts for, like, months? Yes. Did I also wait another month specifically for this day to come before publishing it? Also yes. Is there also a second version where everything takes a Feyre-like dramatic twist, but this time the C-section happens because Gwyn and Emerie don't take no shit from anybody? Who knows 👀

Some domestic fluff and a bit of random angst thrown in there, because where would be the fun otherwise? Hope you enjoy <3

@nessianweekk

W/C: 2.9k

T/W: --

Nesta had made a lot of plans throughout her life.

When she was little, she had planned—well, her mother had done all the planning, but that’s just a tiny detail—to marry a wealthy man and elevate her family’s social position, confident that that would, finally, make her mother proud. Little did Nesta know that just a few years later she would find herself without both money and mother. That led to her second plan: Tomas Mandray. The bastard. She was fully aware of what was going on inside his household—what was probably going to happen to her, too—but if marrying the boy meant one mouth less for her sister to feed, then so be it. Trading one misery for another wouldn’t have changed much for Nesta, anyway.

Her third and biggest plan almost worked—and thank the Mother it actually didn’t. Still, Nesta wouldn’t change anything about it. The war against Hybern forced her to open her eyes and come to terms with her feeling for a certain cocky male. Nesta couldn’t ignore them anymore, not when the risk of losing him at any moment had dug its claws so deep into her heart she was afraid she’ll never be free from the bone-shattering grip. Decades had passed since then, yet Nesta still woke up in the middle of the night, cold sweat drenching her nightclothes and the cruel hands of terror pinning her body to the mattress. Her eyes were open but the memory hadn’t stopped—the voices overlapping in her head. One was made of warmth and comfort, hot breath against her neck and a heavy arm pulling her closer and closer; the other was pain and sputtered blood, pleading her to go, run, save herself. She couldn’t, so she stayed. It had offered her a promise, one that Nesta found herself almost relieved to hear, knowing it would be fulfilled soon. She closed her eyes, now as she did back then, waiting for the fatal blow. It never came.

To her mate’s more than probable disappointment, being stuck in Illyria was not one of those plans. Not by a long shot. She’d grown to enjoy the place—the mountains and its inhabitants—but the breathtaking landscape was not the reason why she’d come here in the first place. She just needed to have a nice chat with a group of elderly Illyrian females and then they could fly back to Velaris. That was until Cassian vanished somewhere with Balthazar, never to be seen again.

“It won’t take much, he said,” mimicked Nesta, throwing yet another pillow on the sofa. “Just wait for me at the house if you finish first, he said. Forty godsdamned minutes ago.”

She punched and squished her tiny nestle of pillows and blankets until she felt comfortable enough against it, then reached for the book she left on the coffee table. A book that had vanished just like her mate, apparently.

Because you did leave it there, right? She questioned herself, digging through her memory and finding nothing of use. She wasn’t surprised, her brain has stopped working properly 7 months ago, give or take. Nesta leaned forward as much as she could without tripping over to see if it may have fallen on the floor, then swept her eyes around the room, hoping for a little yellow square to catch her eyes. And it did catch her eyes, on the kitchen table. Nesta cursed inwardly, rolling her eyes as she readjusted herself and looked down at her own sprawled body. The next time someone told her what a wonderful, beautiful thing being pregnant was, she’d choose violence.

“There goes my comfy spot,” Nesta muttered under her breath as she gripped any available surface to push herself and her 41 weeks rounder-than-ever belly up the sofa, trying her very best not to pull any muscles in the process.

She was halfway back to the living room when the front door opened, showing a 6’4 feet tall male standing in her doorway, wet as a puppy, drip-dropping on the floor.

“Hi, Nes,” he said, and she felt the sudden urge to punch him. Or kiss him. Or maybe both. “It’s storming outside, so we’ll have to wait until it’s over before I can fly us back to Velaris,” Cassian went on, kicking his muddy boots aside and taking off as many clothes as he could before stepping into the house itself. He let his gaze run over her, from the hand pinned on her back to give her belly additional support, to the black, oversized shirt she had on—clearly not one of hers because Gods forbid she could find at least one that fit her new demanding body—, to the yellow tome tucked under an arm. He even had the audacity to smirk at her I’ll cut your balls off and use them as earrings look—one of the newest addition to her collection—before saying, “Nice outfit.”

Nesta only inclined her head, contemplating how much time it would take her to wabble her way to him. Too much, she realized. It would be faster if she threw the book from where she was standing. Cassian sighed, clearing the space between them with a few strides. “How is the love of my life?”

“Yet to be decided,” Nesta replied, tilting her head up so she wouldn’t answer his chest.

“I was talking to the baby.”

Cassian sank to his knees in front of her, flashing her a lazy grin as he gently stroked her thighs before raising the hem of the shirt. Her pale skin, still a little shiny from the lavender oil she applied earlier, courtesy of Emerie’s exceptional taste, was a stark contrast to the deeply tanned pair of huge hands now covering the curve of her belly almost entirely. This time Nesta did smack him on the head with the book, earning herself a rumbled laugh and a pinched ass.

“You don’t really hate me right now, do you?” He asked between a kiss and the next, his damp hair leaving a wet trail on her stretched skin.

She didn’t answer, her heart too weak to form a coherent sentence, and when he stopped his greetings to the baby and looked up at her, she looked away a beat too late, feeling his lips curve into a smile.

“Come on, Nes. I’m sorry I haven’t predicted the rain. I told you summer storms in Illyria come when you’re least expecting them.”

He had told her that, many times, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be pissed about it anyway. The baby was a week late and they took a great risk by flying all the way there to meet the elders, and the last thing she wanted was to give birth in these conditions, without her family to hold her together while she regretted all her life choices. Nesta pushed the book against Cassian’s forehead, putting some space between her belly and his face, and spun on her heels, heading for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Cassian called after her.

“To draw you a bath before you catch a cold.”

“I’ll catch it anyway if I have to wait for you to climb up the stairs,” he said, moving behind her.

Nesta turned with her finger already pointed toward its target when Cassian lifted her up.

“Gods, you stink.”

“You’re welcome.”

Fifteen minutes later, Nesta was leaning against the bathroom doorframe, admiring her oh-so-gorgeous mate stripping naked in front of her. She was so glad at least one of them got to keep the muscles, and that the one was him. She dipped her eyes as soon as Cassian turned his back to her. How long would it take her to get back up if she knelt and took a bite of that incredible ass—

“Do you plan on taking that shirt off or do I have to do it for you?”

“If I get into that bath none of us will get out anytime soon,” Nesta replied, not meeting his eyes once even as he faced her again. Did she make a mistake or were there two more muscles on his torso?

He took a few steps in her direction, forcing her to raise her gaze. “Good,” he said, pressing his lips against the pointy shell of her ear, “because we have a lot of time on our hands before the storm ends.”

Said hands were now resting on either side of her belly, roaming south toward the rim of the shirt. Nesta closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, reveling in the constant warmth of Cassian’s body against her own, the roughness of his palms.

Right there and then, she decided she would give up and give in, lifting her arms so Cassian could peel the shirt right off of her, and bared her neck to him.

Right there and then, their baby decided not to be as enthusiastic about what was going to happen as they were, and started kicking. Hard. Nesta hissed in pain, gripping Cassian’s shoulders for support. Cassian, coming back to his senses, stroked Nesta’s back and placed his other hand on the belly-turned-punching bag, taking care of both the mother and the daughter at once.

“I can’t believe she’s not even out and she already has a favorite,” said Nesta through clenched teeth. Cassian laughed lightly, leading Nesta toward the still fuming bathtub, filled with bubbles almost to the brim. It took them a few tries to climb in and find the right position, but not much after they were both comfortably laying back-to-chest, hands rubbing soft skin.

“She’s taking her sweet time,” Cassian said after a couple of minutes of silence, “yet we’re still stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t have a name. What do we call her?”

Nesta, who was tracing soapy lines on the back of his hand and down his forearm, following scars and veins, stopped short in her tracks. “We’ll find something, eventually.”

He kissed her bare shoulder, muffling his chuckles against her skin, “I can’t wait for her to be here.”

With that, Nesta’s thoughts took off. “Yeah, me too.”

“Not so much enthusiasm, it’s only our firstborn child.” Cassian’s chest shook against her back as the tip of his nose stroked her fluttering pulse. His hand stilled, leaving her belly skin tingling, and Nesta shut her eyes closed, waiting. He knew something was wrong.

“What is it, Nes,” he said ever so gently, his mouth now brushing her ear.

“It’s nothing, really.” She knew she was being paranoid, and most—if not all—future mothers felt the same way she did, at some point or another, but that knowledge didn’t stop her troubles to pool at the base of her spine, crawling up her back.

“Whatever is going on in your head, I want to know. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or pointless. I want to know, all of it.” His tone didn’t falter once, didn’t even turn angrier, demanding. “Please.”

Nesta exhaled slowly, tipping her head back to rest it on Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian had never marched into her head and heart, taking control of her life. He’d waited patiently to be granted access, slipping past all her defenses almost unnoticed and taking root in the darkest part of her. Not pushing, not pulling: just waiting—for her to open up, for the light to find its way in, for the cracks to stitch back together, the scars to heal. The qualities she needed and loved most, all inside one huge bat. Patience, loyalty, unconditional love.

“What if I can’t do this?” Nesta stumbled on the words stuck in her throat, choking her. Tears swelled her eyes as she struggled to blurt out the rest, no matter how many times she tried to swallow down the lump. “What if I can’t be a good mother?”

She took it all back: the damn had broken, there was no stopping her now.

“It’s not like I ever had these great parental figures to look up to, and we all know I took after my mother more than I should have,” a laugh escaped her lips, tasting sour. For all her life, Nesta has feared the day she would truly become her mother’s daughter. It was her mother’s face she saw when she looked in the mirror; her mother’s voice she heard when she snapped and spit venom at anyone who got too close; her mother’s creature she became when her mind wandered a little too far back, whenever she read other people’s body language as easily as she would a book, and asked herself how easy would it be to take and take and take and leave only ashes in her way. Sometimes Nesta became her, so much so that she felt sick to her stomach. All these years, all this pain and anger and regret, and she still couldn’t let her go. “I don’t want to be like her, I don’t want our baby to—”

“Hey, stop. Stop.” Cassian’s hands tightened around her, anchoring her as she found her way through her too-loud thoughts, every word more grounding than the one before. “You’re not like your mother.”

A hand flew to her face, mixing salt and soap. “How would you know? You haven’t even met her.” Thankfully.

“You’re not your mother and you’ll never be because you care.” The words caught Nesta so off guard that, for a moment, everything went quiet. Nothing but the sound of water dripping and heart beating filled the room. “You care so much about this baby, Nesta. You’ve cared about her from the moment we’ve learned about her existence. When she wasn’t even a she yet.”

Two fingers pinched her chin, forcing her head to the side. Beautiful hazel eyes were waiting for her own, burning and melting all at once. She’s never been able to hide from his gaze, never been able to cover the ugliest truths from him. Nesta kinda hated how she loved it. It made everything much easier to overcome: knowing you won’t ever have to search for words you couldn’t find to explain what you couldn’t name. He’d always seen it—seen her.

Cassian’s voice soothed her nerves like a balm. “You already love her more than your mother ever did. I know that for a fact because I’ve been by your side every step of the way—and this isn’t just about the pregnancy.”

Nesta couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up, thinking back to how it started: the pain, the House, the Valkyries.

Look, how far you’ve come.

Nesta learned to live with this presence in her life. The timeless voice of the Mother making its way through her mind, the faint touch of her embrace, the feeble whisper of a presence following her every move.

She turned her head, catching the first rays of the sun shyly cutting through the curtain of clouds. Nesta couldn’t tell when it stopped raining. She was now able to go home, just as she’d wanted to. She should feel relieved, and yet she wasn’t—not completely, at least, because going home meant popping the bubble, and this bubble wasn’t that bad, after all. So Nesta kept quiet, reveling in Cassian’s hands roaming all over her body, Cassian’s lips tasting her skin, Cassian’s scent filling her lungs, Cassian’s love tending her frail and wounded heart. Anything, if done by Cassian, tended to have a whole different outcome. Content with just his reassuring presence, Nesta glanced out the window once again, mesmerized by how the light played with the mist rising from the forest blanketing a nearby mountain, curling around trees like it got stuck in their branches.

“Our kids will never know a day without their parents’ love growing up,” she said, breaking the silence.

Cassian agreed without missing a beat. “There will always be light. Only light.”

“Nora,” Nesta said, tasting the sound on her tongue.

“What?”

A small smile played on Nesta’s lips as she repeated, “Nora. Light. That should be the name for the baby.”

“Since when did you know Illyrian?” He sounded more surprised than upset, given his many attempts at teaching her the dialect.

“I do live with two outgrown bats, you know,” she shrugged it off, feigning indifference. Her heart, on the other hand, was in need of praise—it started in the bedroom, but it took control of every aspect of her life. Just a few words from Cassian, and she felt weak in the knees but beaming with pride at the same time.

The rumble of his deep laugh rolled straight to the tip of her toes. “So Emerie has nothing to do with it?”

“Who knows.”

She had struggled so much during their lessons that they became very few and far in between, with Cassian having to prioritize his actual duties as General Commander rather than a “personal hobby”, leading to the meetings stopping altogether. But it was his mother tongue and the Illyrians, no matter how Illyrian they might be, were still his people. For centuries he’d been the only one fighting for the cause, and for even more centuries he will keep fighting no matter the odds.

Cassian had been the only one left standing one too many times—his beliefs hard to kill, his hope harder still. Nesta thought he might like some company.

#dee writes #Nora #nessianweek2022 #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta and cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #pregnancy fic

[shadowynn]

so, just finished my first rewrite of ch. eight, and let me just say, i did not expect it take the direction it did, but something just sort of took a hold of me and the words just started flowing. i didn't plan on revealing as much as i am now when i first started, but i think with the direction i took, certain things needed to be explained. and then after how long it's been since ch. seven, i think it's only right that you get a little extra.

i make no promises, but there is a chance, depending on how things go, that ch. eight might make an appearance tomorrow. i added 4k more words in the rewrite, so it definitely needs some more time to be gone through. but, i've been digging the direction it's taken and am excited to get it out for you all.

with this new direction, i totally did not mean for it to get so angsty in one part as it did (and not in the way you might think) like, i had the base idea for some backstory stuff, but when things started developing, i didn't expect it to take the dark turn it did, but here we are and i think it works well with the direction things are heading.

on that note, i debated whether or not i would give you guys a snippet of things, not because i didn't want to, but because i had a hard time finding something that didn't give things away. but, i think i found a part that i think isn't too much of a spoiler, so it'll be under the cut below. hope you enjoy :)

~

“I’m aware that all of this is probably normal for you, but it’s not for me. It’s foreign, confusing, and more than a little overwhelming. Having a mate might simply be a way of life for you, but it’s not the way I grew up. Perhaps it’s a bit different for you than others, but Hongjoong has known about me my entire life and has had two decades to think things over and make a decision. And I didn’t get any of that. I had it forced upon me before I even knew what was happening, so forgive me, please,” you took a deep breath as your hands clenched from your rising emotions causing the nails to dig into the skin of your sides, “if I seem to have some reservations about it all.”

“Which are perfectly valid, however hard they might be to hear.” As you neared the city’s entrance, [redacted] reached out to you, pulling you to a stop next to him. “And though it may be wrong of me to ask this of you, could you at least give us a try? Things may have started off badly, but is there nothing we can do to redeem ourselves? If it’s time you need, we can give you that. All we ask, all I ask, is that you give us another chance before throwing it all away. Angel, please, I'm begging you.”

The desperation in his voice caught you off guard. The way his eyes pleaded with you in that moment made your stomach twist and you were unable to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds as the feeling of vulnerability hit you once more. Here was one of the Seven, one of the most powerful in your world, all but begging for your forgiveness for the wrong he had done you.

You didn’t know what scared you the most. The raw emotion buried within his words, the way he was looking at you as though you were the only thing that mattered, or the fact that it was working.

You didn’t want it too, still hurt and bitter about what they had done to you, but goddammit, he was right. As a healer, you fully believed that everyone deserved a second chance at life, no matter what they had done. It was why you had been so willing to save the injured daemons. It was why you had been willing to save Seonghwa. Because who were you to decide whether or not they died? Who were you to decide whether or not they deserved a second chance? People made mistakes and who were you to deny them that second chance when they seemed so willing to change. When they were all but begging you to let them redeem themselves.

#in love and lore #in love and lore update #winnie speaks

[siriannatan]

What keeps goblins up at night - ScfWhip

I had ScfWhip on my mind and haven't written any S2 in a while so here's a thing

Scott was fully aware he was coming to Gobland at a rather late hour. He couldn't help it. Rearranging a whole empire so it suits him better was a hard task even for a demon as strong as Scott. And needed rocks. And fWhip was a hard goblin to find even if he was taller than other goblins.

The new demonic king of Chromia was planning to spend the night at the Drip, and catch fWhip early in the morning as he made his rounds around the cave. Colour him surprised when he saw lights in fWhip's house were still on. It was almost midnight outside. fWhip was usually asleep at this time. Scott would know, this wouldn't be the first time he'd be staying at the local inn.

L

With a hum and slight worry building up Scott decided to check up on the goblin king. Or whatever his title was. Usually fWhip had a perfect schedule and everything under absolute control as chaotic as he seemed to be.

"Hallo?" Scott called out, not to loud to not disturb the neighborhoods on the lower and higher levels of the caves. To his shock fWhip called back with 'one moment, Scott' so Scott waited. The goblin was the least weird about him being a demon next to the sheriff. But Jimmy seems like he simply could not care lass about literally everything.

fWhip didn't look all that out the ordinary when he opened the door with wide smile. Most inordinary thing was hom seeming to be tired. "How can aah... I help you?" He asked, stiffling a yawn in the middle of it.

"I was about to ask the same," Scott grinned. He always wanted to cuddle fWhip. He was just so cute and perfect size for cuddles. But he also bit and punched back whenever Scott tried in the past. "You're usually asleep at this hour," he explained further as fWhip tiredly blinked at him.

"Aaa, that. It's totally normal, I don't plan expansions closer to the Deep Dark every night," fWhip chuckled and stepped back. "But we can talk about whatever you came for now? I'll probably come back to bed once these plans are in my engineers hands," he rambled as Scott followed him further in.

As most goblin houses, fWhip's was bigger on the inside thanks to digging into the rock of the enormous cave the underground empire called home. As dangerous as the place was... It was also cozy and warm. So warm Scott had to open his coat and loosen his shirt. It was also eclectic and very fWhip with many small knick-knacks that had Scott's hands itching. Even if to just make fWhip come to his new mansion to retrieve them.

"I just came to ask about some rock trade, nothing to pressing, don't worry," Scott grinned as fWhip organised some papers. "I can come back in the morning or even later, when you don't look like you're about to pass out," the demon chuckled as fWhip offered him drinks.

"We goblins pride ourselves on our hospitality, I'd never live down the same of kicking out a guest," the goblin protested. Ears shuddering at the very thought. Hands on hips as he almost glared at the demon.

Scott raised his arms and giggled. An idea forming in his head. "Well, you don't have to kick me out if you let me stay the night," he hummed. His human disguise slowly dropping once his hat was off. He mostly wore it to not make other rulers too uncomfortable.

"I have only one bed but..." fWhip nodded, he was totally not suspecting the real motivations behind Scott's offer.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with a goblin as cute as you," Scott smirked and winked at the goblin.

fWhip looked at him with wide with shock eyes and slight blush. "You... I... That's not impossible but..." The poor goblin tried to get his tired brain to work.

"It's settled then," Scott grinned and easily picked up and carried fWhip to his bed. Luckily it was plenty big for the both of them. What does fWhip even need a bed tis big? Scott wondered as he undressed a bit more, not completely to not make fWhip too uncomfortable.

To add to his luck fWhip didn't for once protest being cuddled. Or Scott's pokey crystal bits. But that's probably because he instantly passed out. Snoring slightly and cuddling up to Scott in his sleep. Utterly adorable...

The morning had Scott waking up to a panicked scream and someone trashing in his arms. In his half asleep state he did the most logical thing and simply tightened his hold on whoever was complaining. "Five more minutes..." The demon hummed.

"I do not have five minutes, Scott," fWhip hissed, trashing even harder in Scott's unrelenting grasp.

With a yawn Scott took a mercy on the goblin and let him go. "You're adorable in your sleep," Scott grinned as fWhip hurried to get ready for his busy day. Stopping his string if complaints just for a second to glare at the demon.

"Some of us have things to do Scott," he huffed, frantically looking around for something.

"Where's that goblin hospitably now?" Scott sighed. "And your best is by your table," he added with a grin.

fWhip huffed. "I'm letting you stay in my bed until I come back from delivering those plans to the engoneers, that's plenty hospitable considering you're an annoyance," the goblin huffed, blushing as he finally noticed Scott's shirtless and reflecting all the light onto a colourful display on fWhip's bedroom walls. Just to quickly scuttle off with more mumbling about stupid sexy demons invading his house

"Don't lie, you liked the cuddles," Scott chuckled after him and flopped to the bed. He was definitely waiting until fWhip's back. If he had his rest planned then there was no way he was not coming back. He led his schedules too much for that.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #empires fwhip #empires scott #ScfWhip

[sophiethewitch1]

Chpt. 7 - Witch With A B

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None in particular. 

A/n: Sorry I forgot tumblr exists. In other words you get four new chapters so nice? Also, comment or msg me if you want to be added to the future taglist!

Your trudging through the snow is, as it always fucking is, miserable. Asa is in your arms again, because he can't walk with the rotting affecting him. He's chewing on a cooked piece of rabbit, silent as he watches you suffer.

And, shit, you are suffering.

As if God himself has come down from the heavens just to make you a little more miserable, the snow falls harder. White powder catches on your eyelashes, and you rapidly blink away the distraction. Your hands burn with the freezing air, the pressure you put on them after being literally impaled is not helping much. You were surprised they hadn't fallen off, from frostbite, infection or some other malignant disease.

Still, you trudged on. You were close to the hag's new hideout now, you'd started to see signs of her work in the woods around you. Hanging talismans, runes carved into tree trunks, an uncomfortable amount of skeletal carcases. You didn't know what half the things she did meant, but you knew they made everyone uncomfortable. Human and vampire alike.

The first part was probably intentional, the second part not so much. She'd welcome any vampire into her abode, and probably thought the bodies were welcoming. You wouldn't tell her they weren't, because you wouldn't like to bump into a blood-sucker on one of your visits. They fucking sucked well enough already.

The rustling of wood and feathers behind your ear draws your attention, and you huff. Looking over your shoulder you find Asa playing with your arrows, chewing on both feathered edges and rabbit bone.

"Asa, I told you to stop playing with those. They're dangerous," you chide, and he barely gives you a glance before going back to his incredibly fatal playtime. You sigh, shifting his head to your other side. He goes to cry, but the start of his wail is stopped by your stumbling.

He pauses, sniffing the air, and says-

"You're bleeding, Baba."

You take a deep breath of biting air at his words. That's probably why your hands hurt so much. Your wounds had reopened, and you were running out of bandages and disinfectant. Fuck, you don't know what to do.

You take another breath, like that'll make this all easier. Pausing in the wintery woods, you slowly let Asa down. The snow creaks under his boots, and you watch fang dig deep into bone. He leaves little bite marks along the side of it, another casual show of his supernatural power.

"Thanks for pointing that out, baby," you say, unwrapping your hands slowly from his little form. He pouts, but doesn't complain. You sometimes wish he would more, but not today. Today you were thankful for his careful silence, watching you like a hawk.

Looking down at your hands, you can see your bandages have cleanly bled through. You sigh at all the blood, wondering how much longer Asa could last before he had... an episode. If that's what you could call it, but you knew the true term the vampires used.

'Bloodlust.'

It was something you staved off with lots of raw meat and filling human food, but you were all too aware of the red eyes that followed your movements. Asa didn't want to hurt you, and you had faith in that above all else.

You didn't have faith in a child's self control, however.

After all, your blood was delicious, that's what he always said, anyway.

A crunch in the snow has your head whipping upwards, but when Asa doesn't pay the newcomer any attention, your shoulder's relax. Through the snow you see a familiar figure, a hunched crone with a staff in one wrinkled, many ringed hand. The woman you'd been looking for had come to greet the two of you herself. You feel a tired smile tug at your lips when you hear Asa's low growl.

Asa isn't scared of her, but he certainly doesn't like her, moving to shuffle behind you.

"My, my, is that you again, podzhigatel'?" the familiar Russian nickname falls from her lips, and you can't help the small flare of pride with the title. You had many nicknames, but this was your favourite. 'Hunter' didn't speak to your accomplishments, but the word the witch spoke did.

Arsonist. That's what it meant. Even if she spits it with disgust, you choose to take it as a compliment.

The crone's eyes flicker down past your legs to where Asa hides, and she gives him a grin with missing teeth. He hisses at her, reminding you faintly of the street cats you used to feed. Ah, damn this old bitch. She brought far too many memories with her sweeping robes and wicked grins.

"And malen'koye sokrovishche too, of course!" she reaches the hand not holding the staff out to Asa, but you slap it away.

She looks up, the smile she wore dropping into a scowl. You return her glare, knowing not to let this crazy woman a single step closer to you son. She leans back at this, giving an eye roll as she stretches to her full height. Or well, what she can, at least.

"Do you have anything for me today, or are you just here to eat my food and take up space?" she asks you, and you hide your wince. Your deal with the Witch of the North was a simple one. She helped you with Asa and all of his quirks, and you gave her... supplies.

Fresh ones, usually.

"...Rogues are skittish, an Abomination has been roaming," you reply, and she scoffs at that.

"They always are at this time of year. Your excuses are getting worse. Any blood?"

You bite into your lip, shaking your head.

She places her hands on the staff, nodding her head in a mocking way. This hag had never once cared for your life, and simply saw Asa as a way of furthering her goals. You didn't think she knew what empathy was.

"And you still won't give me the boy?"

In seconds you have a knife to her throat, rage burning in your chest. She laughs, waving her hand like you're old friends, not someone about to be slain and the slayer. She gives you a wink and says-

"I'd put that down if I were you. You well know I'm the only one who can help you - for whatever idiotic reason you've come here again," she croons, and you clench your jaw so tight that your ears ring. Still, you drop the blade to your side, not holstering it away just yet.

"I'll do it one day," you promise, and she claps her hands together, giggling.

"I hope you do! The great Hunter chasing me down and slaughtering me? My, it'd be a memory I'd cherish even in death!" she said with all the cheer of someone who had actually completely lost their mind. She was almost as irritating as Creel, and the only reason he was ahead of her was because of his simple obliviousness to how annoying he was.

You huff, shaking your head.

"I don't have anything to pay you," you say, and you suppress the shudder that rolls through you at the cunning grin she offers in return. She reaches her hand out again, palm splayed upwards to the falling snow.

"A debt then?"

Now, you weren't stupid. Debts were in the realm of the other, and the witch wasn't just called that for show. She had powers you didn't understand, and they terrified you. Her magic was closely intertwined with the same magic the blood-suckers used. Debts, truths and lies, names... All of it she wielded tight in her grasp.

An open ended debt was truly open ended. You would have to pay it back, you would be physically forced to by something you, human you, could never truly understand.

You were no fool. But you were desperate, and sometimes that was the same thing.

You take her hand, and with the other pull down your collar, showing the faded mark on your neck. In between the scars from the teeth digging into your skin shines a faint mark, almost glowing in the afternoon light.

The witch gasps, a delighted smile stretching over her cracked lips.

The inside of the Witch's house was as miserable as always. Rotted wood and foetid air, not to mention the miserable cold. The hag pushes at your back, shoving you further into the darkness. She takes a box of matches from her pocket and moves around the room, lighting a litany of candles. The warm glow doesn't make the space any more comfortable, revealing the interior of her hut.

Considering she moved so often it was a wonder why she always chose the most miserable places to shack up. You think it's a matter of aesthetics in this case. After all, a nice abandoned mansion wouldn't fit her jars of organs and fanged skulls.

She ushers you towards the table in the middle of the room, where you take a seat, pulling Asa into your lap. The crone takes to the back of the room, pulling dried herbs and strange salves from her shelves.

"So, who's the man of the hour? Or a woman perhaps? I don't know much about vampire proclivities when it comes to their fated-partners," she asks over her shoulder, and you wince. You weren't interested in telling her the details, merely in finding a way to get this mark off you.

You'd have carved a chunk out of your neck if you thought it would do anything, but the other humans you'd seen forced into this who'd tried that had just seen the mark pop up somewhere else on their skin. It was similar to a curse in that respect. And other ways too.

Because now that vampire would inevitably track you down, no matter where you ran. You didn't quite understand how the mark worked, but from what you did get, it seemed to almost have a compass-like system in it. He'd know whichever direction you were in at all times, as if you were his true north.

"That's none of your business," you cooly answer, and she grunts an answer.

"So be it. Blood sample, dearie?" she shrugs off your standoffish ways without a care, and you eye the needle in her hand. Your shoulders tense, your teeth dig into the skin inside your mouth, and you hear Asa growl. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of mould and earth. The witch watches you with a predator-like curiosity, and that doesn't help your anxiety.

Calm down. Relax, relax, relax, relax, relax, relax-relaxrelaxrelaxrelaxrelax-

You weren't there. You weren't inside the Walls. Gradually, your shoulders drift from where they were bunched up beside your ears, and you summon the balls to continue this unpleasant conversation.

"Is that one new?" you ask.

She grins, reaching her other hand out for you to offer your arm. You don't, simply staring at her in waiting. After a moment her grins falls into a wicked scowl.

"You know I treat you with the utmost care. Frankly, I'm hurt by your actions, podzhigatel."

You give her a disapproving look, tucking Asa tighter in your grasp.

"You have a seventy percent mortality rate, witch," you reply, and she laughs, shaking her head.

"But I do not care about those patients! You, however, are as precious as our little treasure here!" she coos at Asa, wiggling her old fingers at him, and you wonder if he's going to try and bite her finger off. When he lunges forward, teeth sharp, you don't protest. You do sag a little when the crone manages to make sure she doesn't lose a digit, darting backwards.

Well, her words do seem true. Still, you don't offer your arm, and Asa doesn't offer any extra of your space.

She sighs, looking at you like you're a petulant child. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you've been doing it far too much lately. Maybe they'll roll into the back of your skull and get stuck one day.

You think Creel will be the one to doom you to such a fate.

"Yes, yes, yes. You stupid thing, of course it's a new needle. I can't have you dying of a blood disease off somewhere in the middle of the woods, can I? Especially not now with..." her words trail off, eyes naturally flowing to the hidden juncture of your neck. You hate how giddy she is about it, but there's literally no one else to go to, so here you were.

Extending your arm, averting your eyes from the syringe.

The tiny pin-prick in your arm is infinitesimally small compared to the rest of the pain you've experienced in the past few days, yet it feels like the worst you've experienced in your life. It doesn't make any sense, but it doesn't need to. Creel often talked to you about the affects of trauma in his gang, and he'd once even whispered to you about the nightmares that plagued his sleep. You knew why it was.

That didn't mean you didn't fucking hate this weakness, that you didn't hate the fact you couldn't lash out and kill this evil fucking bitch. That you didn't hate the memories that flick past you like one of the DVDs you and Asa sometimes find.

That you didn't hate the sight of white sterile walls and blood drips, the lines of weathered, weak humans ready to be harvested like livestock.

"All done!" the crone chirps, and you feel the words like a slap. You blink away visions of things that aren't there, head lightly craning as you get a feel for where you are. You're breathing heavily, and Asa is whining into your arms. You strangle down a rope around your fear, hand curling through his golden locks to reassure both him and you.

That you aren't there. Not any more.

She gives the blood a delicate look, hums approvingly, and turns to the rest of her workshop. She starts to assemble the gathering of herbs and your blood, pulling them over to the table which you sit at so the two of you can watch. She's that type of person after all.

Plucking apart leaves and grinding floral herbs in her mortar, she, unfortunately, opens her mouth again.

"So? Are you going to tell me about the bonding, podzhigatel?" she asks without looking up at you, going about her task in a surprisingly methodical manner. If she didn't you would never come to her, but it still shocks you every time she starts one of her spells.

She doesn't seem like a competent person, but everyone has their things, you suppose.

"Will that be necessary?" you ask with a grimace, and she tilts her head to the side, making a grand show of thinking. We all do it, woman.

"Yes, actually. I do think it will be. A bond is something even I don't quite understand, much less those fools locked inside their towers. It's a very personal thing, a welding of two souls-"

"Okay, that's enough," you cut her off, and she cackles.

"Was it not very romantic, dearie? I can't imagine someone like the great Hunter would be very willing to let a vampire bite them," she says, snickering at the very thought. No, you wouldn't call that regrettable meeting 'romantic'. Not that you knew what that was, of course, but you still didn't get butterflies in your stomach thinking about the way your home had been ransacked and you'd nearly been killed or enslaved.

No, that wasn't your idea of romantic.

"There were two of them," is the first thing you say, and even that makes the witch pause.

"Truly?"

You tilt your head to the side, analysing her suddenly shifty expression. You didn't like the look of curiosity on her face on a good day, and especially on a day like this one.

"Yes. One of them was the one who..." you gesture vaguely at your neck, and the hag seems even more interested.

"The other didn't bite you?" she asks, dropping a handful of garlic flowers into the mixture.

You think back, but can't remember if he did. You don't think he did, at least. But your memories were hazy, as was common with extreme blood loss.

"I can't recall if he did," you answer, and she hums under her breath. She makes a waving hand gesture, telling you to get on with what you did remember of the story.

"They were both elder vampires. I don't know how I managed to fool them, but for a while they thought I was a vampire too."

"Probably the scent of their soulmate messing with their heads," she says, her words muttered like she's thinking outloud. You frown, knowing that can't be it because only one - a flash of silver hair in your mind - marked you. And you knew enough about soulmates that you only got one of those, not two.

"But only one of them marked me."

She hums again, tilting your blood into the mixture now. Only a few drops fall in, but a wifty, dark smoke seems to travel upwards from the mortar. It looks like a black smoke, but you know it's something unnatural, and you have to suppress a shiver at the sight.

"My mistake, then. You must've gotten very lucky. Keep going, podzhigatel, I'm interested now."

Her response makes you unnerved, but you can't quite spot why. So instead, you continue on with your tale.

"I lured them towards where my best traps were, and then it's sort of... blank. I can't remember much else, but I know Creel saved us and one of them... bit my neck," you finish, and a glazed look falls over the hag's eyes. You wait for her to say something, but as you do, her eyes slowly grow white, and you realise something strange is happening here. Her eyelids flutter closed, and your shoulder's tense, something niggling at the bottom of your spine. Her eyes snap open.

"Duck."

And then, the roof caves in.

-

NEXT CHAPTER

#the bow and the arrow yandere x reader yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere story #oc x reader #yandere oc x reader gender neutral reader

[thespacelizard]

for the ask game, shen 26 and 41, rizeth 30 & 55 (because i cant resist my Feelings over him), zeth'rinn 42 and viz 48!

fox you love giving me questions that make me have to dig into character lore for these boys. making me do work smh :p

26 - Guilty Pleasure

Ooh. hm. i don't know that Shen feels super guilty about any of the things he enjoys, but probably his upcoming addiction to serial romance novels would qualify. yes they're not that good, yes most of the plots are the same, yes a lot of them are just thin excuses for erotica but dammit if they're not compelling.

my self-indulgent headcanon is that if Obedience the Series existed inside of Obedience-verse, Ashenivir would be its number one fan

41 - What’s their morning routine like?

He's had different ones over the years. When he was at the Shrine, he had morning meditations/meditation dances, and yes the Shrine sucked but he does miss having those. (we're gonna work through those issues in arc 4 don't you worry).

At the Arcanum he's usually up early, works on some studies for a bit before breakfast-call, then tries to get to the dining hall early enough that it's not too crowded so he can enjoy peace and quiet and food.

Despite this, he's not necessarily a morning person: he's bad at Going To Bed At A Reasonable Hour ft Just One More Chapter. The fact that drow only technically need 4 hours of reverie to function saves his ass.

…can i also interest you in Married To Rizeth Morning Routine, which very often features sleepy kisses, making tea, and kneeling to drink it whilst Rizeth strokes his hair at the kitchen table, or on the couch? Because. That is. everything to me.

30 - What was their adolescence like?

Bad. If we're talking literal teen years, Rizeth was a terrified kid not yet taken to House Velkon'yss. His original House were very minor, and he was acutely aware of how easy it would be for someone to just murder all of them for their assets. Like they were nobility enough to have to adhere very publicly and strictly to Lolthite tenets, but low-ranked enough that they had very little in the way of protection. It wasn't a very stable environment to grow up in.

If we're talking 'loose drow/elven definition of teens' - also bad. He got sent as a consort to House Velkon'yss in his early 20s, which was technically a trade-up, but he was basically just there to be a fun treat for the Matron and the elder daughters to play with. He spent as much time as possible hiding with books, and learning to shove all his feelings deep, deep down. I think he had some 'friends' at Sorcere, as much as he was willing to risk being friendly with anyone. I haven't fleshed all of it out, but I think he did fall for another boy there, and it ended with him being cast aside for the other boys benefit. Or death. I haven't decided.

There are in fact more reasons than just Elian'la being a bad ex that he's got so many hangups around intimate relationships.

i will also say that I do imagine that when he was sent to House Velkon'yss, it was more of a 'the Matron saw him and went "i want him, give him to me"' and there wasn't really a choice. I kinda picture that his mother was much more of a performative Lolthite than a religious one, and really did just want to keep him safe and alive.

55 - What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other?

Ooh, this is good. I'd say Rizeth's core trait is probably selfishness. Now hear me out: not in a bad way. He's just very protective of himself, wants and tries to be as self-sufficient as possible, and has a hard time trusting things relating to him to other people - that includes work things as well as emotions.

His best trait is his protectiveness. People don't often see that because of how cold he comes across, but he's very protective of all his students, and obviously of Ashenivir. He might be strict on classwork, but he also has zero tolerance for bullying in his classroom, and for parents who try and start shit with him, other teachers, or other students. If you fall under Rizeth's protective umbrella, he will defend you with all his heart - even if he sounds like a bastard doing it.

Worst trait is the same as the core trait, but flipped. He closes himself off because he doesn't trust anyone but himself to care for him. He doesn't leave space to let anyone in, even when he needs help. He brute-forces his way through difficult health, emotions, and work because he's convinced he's the only one who needs/can do it.

All of these interact to make the Rizeth you know and love - a protective idiot who needs someone like Ashenivir to grab him by the heartstrings and say 'hey, dumbass, it's okay to let people care about you, alright?'

42 - What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

the thing he did in OSHA game that pissed Jarlaxle off, which was:

find out that there's Something Up in Mythen Thaelas

find out that Jarlaxle/BD have lost all contact with the city

get expressly forbidden from going to find out what's going on there

lie to a group of BD agents that he had permission to take a group there

use the knowledge Valas gave him of the local area to sneak said group into the city, which was overrun by Elvrae and her mind-control staff + several hundred Lolthite cultists

get stuck in said city until OSHA showed up to save his ass

48 - What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Vizaeth's entire life is a low point :p

Probably the period of time when he was Xunhrae was the worst, before he figure his gender out. He was a wreck, not only self-destructive but completely willing to take everyone down with him. I mean…he still kind of is, but he's more self aware about it now.

His other low-low points are things that have been in fics, namely, all the times where Pharaun wasn't giving him attention, or otherwise wasn't prioritising him. So after Pharaun slept with Rai, and after what happened with Nalfein in like lovers do, those were all devastatingly low points.

I still think his highest point was Pharaun vivisecting him. The person you see as basically divinity walking putting their hands all over your guts? God, the only thing better would have been if Lolth was there to watch.

(send me character questions for this game!)

#c: vizaeth thaezyr #c: rizeth velkon'yss #c: ashenivir zauvym #c: zeth'rinn baenre #obedience fic blogging #obsession fic blogging #enjoy your rizeth feels

[whentherewerebicycles]

oh i am powerfully grumpy today let me list the reasons why to break their hold over me! and then i will list the substantive good things that will counterbalance the grumpiness.

WHY AM I GRUMPY

didn’t sleep well and got up too early (this, as you will see, is probably the root of all other ills)

was pretty cranky with ruthie at 5am because she wouldn’t poop and wanted to just wander around outside & take a little walk instead. which fine but i was so tired and grumpy already haha. and then i always feel like a CRUEL MONSTER after i have spoken to her a bit sharply because she is a sweet little girl and sometimes you just don’t have to poop ok! also sometimes when i have been short with the dogs i am like oh great this is like a two-second glimpse of the lowest setting of sleep-deprived parenthood i bet i am going to handle that GREAT. (you can see here how i was already in that Mood where your crabbiness starts magnetizing all other free-floating crabbiness in the ether towards it)

got a little cranky on the phone with my mom because it felt like she was taking a liiiittle dig at me about the salary cut i’m taking (i don’t think she intentionally was i was just already kind of grumpy and sensitive) 

i am experiencing some lowgrade anxiety about the HSG test tomorrow, partly because i have read that is going to be moderately painful and partly because i am worried it will reveal bigger problems

my lead just straight up stood me up for a meeting today lol... i was on the teams call for 10 min just waiting and then she didn’t respond to any of my messages so i hung up but can’t really wander away from my laptop in case she calls me back... i’ve been just kinda Over It for a while but man it is annoying when she does stuff like this. also lol she did the thing in a meeting yesterday where i offered to review this tiny inconsequential project real quick with my boss and my lead jumped in to be like “to make the best use of [boss]’s time, i think it’s best if i review the content first to ensure everything looks okay” which is code for “i am going to make one formatting change and then schedule a meeting with our boss without inviting you where i imply that your work was so shoddy i had to make MAJOR changes to salvage it.” i was just like sure girl. whatever. enjoy these last few days of getting to powertrip over me. you are so close to being in my rearview mirror forever.

i only have like 1-2 pointless work projects left before my last day (next friday) but they are so pointless and so hazily defined that working on them plunges me into a deep work despair spiral even though i am SO close to being done with this stupid job. i know i need to just pull myself together and finish them but wow. i hate this.

some IRL friend stuff is making me a little bit irritated and i just need to sit down for a minute at some point and decide if/how i want to react to it. it’s genuinely not a big deal it’s just one of those situations where there have been multiple small annoyances that are not exactly anyone’s fault but cumulatively just make me feel a little put-out. however i am aware that if i’d slept 2 more hours last night i might feel totally different about it so i am just bracketing it today.

phew okay. now WHAT ARE SOME OF THE GENUINELY GOOD & MEANINGFUL THINGS IN MY LIFE THAT ARE FILLING ME WITH A SENSE OF GRATITUDE THAT I GET TO BE ALIVE IN THIS WORLD IN THIS MOMENT?

i wrote for 3+ hours this morning and feel really intrigued by the project... not sure if i have a sense of where it’s going yet but it’s been quite a while since i’ve been in that headspace where you wake up and reach blearily for your phone right away because you’re just HUNGRY to review the writing you did the previous night & start working on the new draft. i am very, very much hoping that a change of job and scenery will jumpstart my creativity a bit... i think it’s just challenging to write when literally nothing is happening in your life. you have all this open unstructured time, which means you don’t value any of the time you have (because if you don’t write in THIS empty moment you can always put it off to the next empty moment!), and then you are just sitting at home not experiencing any social or intellectual stimuli so i feel like you don’t get that “lots of ideas sloshing around in my brain... new encounters triggering new ways of looking at or connecting them... back-burner brain stuff simmering while doing other activities” stuff going. ANYWAY this is all to say it feels good to be writing again & feeling excited about writing whether or not this one sticks. i am just happier when i am engaging in the practice of making things even if i am not finishing things.

part of why i started writing again is that i got two extremely long, detailed, thoughtful comments on my last story from another writer that just made me feel so, so good and creatively energized. all comments are soooo good/valued but i feel like there is something extra special about getting that kind of extremely detailed feedback from a talented writer who picks up on why you did certain things and has a very clear sense of the really, really time-intensive revision and redrafting work that goes into weaving multiple layers into a story. i read the comments yesterday and at first was happy but also kind of in a funk about it - like it was SO nice and affirming to receive them but i have also kind of built that story up in my mind to be the best/most fully realized thing i’ve ever written and can sometimes get down on myself feeling like i’ll never be able to top it or even repeat it. but then i read the comments several more times and started thinking about some of the specific scenes or choices the person was highlighting and just remembering how many times i patiently reworked not-great versions of those scenes to just steadily make them better and more effective. and i was just like okay listen. it just takes hard work and time. i have to put in the hard work. i have to invest the time. i have to give up the fantasy that the first version i write (or the second version or the tenth version) is going to be, or should be, perfect. i’m so proud of that polished final work but to get there i had to really keep the draft shitty and unfinished and patchworked-together and rough around the edges so that i could have the flexibility to rearrange things and torpedo what wasn’t working and generate new ideas through new combinations of rough material. so get over yourself and get to work, you idiot, or you really will never make anything again because you’ll have gotten wrapped up in some fantasy of doing things perfectly the very first time. ANYWAY it was a journey haha but those comments got me moving again and it really made me remember again how much i value being part of a creative community where you get to have that kind of engagement with other readers and writers.

i think it’s going to be a stupidly gorgeous day out! and then a stupidly gorgeous next week or two! soooo nice to have nice weather!! spring is here!!! i scrubbed down the deck last night before bed finally and am now just awaiting the delivery of the outdoor rug and side table.

 i had a really, really good catch-up call yesterday afternoon with a former mentee i worked closely with for a few years in my last job. i thought she was probably reaching out to ask about a letter of rec or something but it turned out that she actually just wanted to tell me about how this project she started years ago with me has continued to grow/evolve and has led to these pretty major institutional changes around making caste a protected class at our university. she was just like, ‘i’ve been thinking about you so much all year because everything we’ve been doing is rooted in the research ethos you taught me in that program. and then it just occurred to me that instead of just thinking about you i could reach out to tell you about how much you shaped this work.’ it was just so good to hear from her and so amazing to hear about this stuff she and her co-organizers have been able to achieve in the last couple years!! it made me feel really good/happy (for her but also obviously it’s just nice when people say nice things about your teaching impact!) and i also feel like it kinda lit a fire under me a little bit... like this past year has been so isolating and i think one thing i’ve missed is the way that students’ passionate commitments push YOU to be more engaged in your own life/community and more awake in your own life. i feel like this student in particular always pushed me to be more honest you know... she’s one of those people who is continuously pursuing difficult, important work because she believes it’s the right thing to do and she knows she has the skillset to do it. so i just want to hold onto that feeling you know... like as i begin to become more involved in the life of a campus community again and more connected to students i just want to keep pushing myself out of this period of isolation and into the world to do meaningful work.

#teaching #personal

[batnsons]

okay, catching up on Ted Lasso season 3, I’m midway through 3x5 rn. Thoughts on the season so far (spoilers and LOTS of thoughts under the cut!

Sassy's right, Ted is indeed a mess and I love him so so much and I want to give him all the hugs. (I'm also mad at her for the way she handled that but I'm not surprised, we've known she's like that from day one.) I wish this man would realize that it’s okay to be hurt by things, that he’s allowed to be upset when people hurt him, and he’s allowed to defend himself. But I also greatly appreciate that he’s always trying to take the high road. Him telling Michelle he was upset with her was soooo important and I’m so so proud. We had the beginnings of another panic attack, early on, after he found out and then it was cut off by Zava, but I wish we'd gotten more of a follow up on that. Cause there had to have been some aftermath to that. Also, I've been on the Ted is Jamie's Dad wagon since almost day one and this season is giving me SO MUCH. I hope we get to see so much more of them.

JAMIE!! My sweet Angel Boy. He’s emulating Ted so much this season and it kills me. It’s so so precious. He’s growing so much, and he’s trying so hard, and he’s just!! He’s doing so good! I do wish they would address his trauma responses, though. He’s clearly still having them and I wish they would talk about it. I’m not a fan of the way they’ve had Roy be so aggressive to him without any repercussions, when Jamie is clearly reacting with trauma responses. I’m not sure if that’s a writing point or if Phil is just doing that himself but I would really like to see it addressed. (@altschmerzes and I have talked about this a lot, they’ve got their own posts on the subject too that I really enjoy.) I am, however, delighted at the way Roy has taken Jamie under his wing. He’s been the only one to notice so far that Jamie is upset about Zava (and for good reason!) And I love that.

SPEAKING OF ZAVA. I DESPISE THIS MAN. First off, he’s just WEIRD. But second, he’s a nightmare!! And Jamie’s the only one who sees it! His speech about Zava being a diva and unpleasant was really delightful. (“And I weren’t being’ Ironic, I were neon’ hypocritical”. Have I mentioned I adore Jamie?? HES BECOME SELF AWARE!) Anyway. He’s got manipulative abilities not quite up to Rupert’s standards but, they’re still pretty bad.

And now on the topic of Rupert: this fucking PRICK. He’s manipulating the hell outta Nate and it’s making me mad. He’s gaslighting him, and essentially “love bombing” him every time Nate seems to be showing remorse or regret. And it’s so interesting because you know this is exactly what he must have done to Rebecca, and is probably now doing to Bex (although she seems like she’s well aware of his tendencies and is hitting back in her own way. Those digs about him being old?? Yeah. I hope we get to see Bex and Rebecca bonding later, I want to see Rebecca helping Bex out.) He’s an absolutely brilliant manipulator and I realllly hope we see him get what’s coming to him. And I love that Nate is showing distaste for his “activities” with the assistant.

And now for Nate. I went into this season absolutely hating him (not as much as much as Rupert, but close), and now? Now I just feel bad for him. And I love that we still see bits of the old Nate coming through. He really is just being absolutely played and manipulated and his ego and pride are the only things in his way now. He’s too proud to let himself admit that he’s been wrong, especially in front of Rupert. He’s in too deep and he’s floundering and he’s only got Ted as a lifeline but he’s very nearly burned that in his lust for power and prestige. But he so desperately wants it, you can see it. I really do hope we get a redemption arc, honestly. Never thought I’d say that. But we are now seeing the crest of that wave, so to speak, where we saw Jamie at the beginning of the series. And Jamie was able to claw his way out, so shouldn’t Nate now be able to as well?? It’s really really interesting, the way we’ve seen their stories parallel each other. What we’ve seen from Nate here is what we didn’t see with Jamie: the rise of the ego and pride as a survival mechanism. So here’s hoping we get to see Nate being pulled from that riptide just like Jamie is. But he’s gotta make the decision to reach for that lifeline himself. I really hope he does.

As for everything else: I feel like Rebecca is floundering, trying to cling desperately to this idea that she has to be more successful than Rupert in order to prove to him she doesn’t need him. But she’s missing the reality that the only person she needs to prove anything to is herself. I’m so interested to see where the rest of her growth takes her. Trent I’m delighted to see more of, I love that he’s hanging around the club now. He’s so fun and a lovely outside perspective for them all. Colin has got one hell of an interesting storyline happening on the sidelines, and I’m so so curious to see where this goes. I love that Trent was given the same missing piece of information that we were given as an audience, it makes for a really interesting audience stand-in, seeing him react to the things Colin says and does knowing what we all know now as well. Makes for some really interesting storytelling. I’m a little, not sad per se but… bummed? at how little Sam content we’ve gotten so far but I think that’s remedied later so I’m not too worried about it right now. Beard and Ted are delightful as always, I’m always so thrilled by their comfortable relationship, they’re like two sides of the same coin that function so so well together. Platonic soulmates, honestly. And then there’s Michelle. I’m so mad at her. But I’m even more mad at the therapist. I’m sorry, that man’s license should be taken away. And I’m glad they straight up had someone say it was unethical out loud but I really hope they bring it up more. Because it’s so so wrong and so unethical it’s unbelievable. Michelle is less at fault for this than the therapist, for sure, but I’m still mad at her for all of it. And I’m so glad Ted told her he was upset. Because regardless of who she’s dating, Ted absolutely should’ve been consulted before she introduced a new partner to their son. Like, that shit’s not okay. At all. Add in that he was their couple’s therapist?? (Which brings into question all sorts of other things, mind you.) Nah that’s messed up and I’m so angry about it.

Tldr: so far I’m ultimately very happy with this season, the character arcs are hurting me and also giving me so much joy. Rupert is a prick as always, and Ted and Jamie are my boys.

#rey rambles #ted lasso spoilers #tl meta #ted lasso meta #tls3 #ted lasso #jamie tartt #nathan shelley #colin hughes #rebecca welton #roy kent #rey's endless list of favorite characters