#which was why so many of the question options were limited

[bookwyrminspiration]

TLT's Religion + Trauma Survey Results!

About a month ago, I shared a survey regarding the impact of TLT's religion on fans and specifically fans with self-identified religious trauma. This was part of a larger group project for a class, but a handful of people were interested in knowing the results, so here they are!

Before we start: this was a very informal project and necessarily limited. Response options were limited, it didn't inquire into demographic information, data was analyzed manually, and Christianity was the focus/frequently presumed given its global prevalence and relation to the story. Several avenues of analysis weren't pursued given time and project constraints, so please keep all this in mind

The survey was open for about a week and received 965 responses

First, respondents were asked on a scale of 1-4 "Does The Locked Tomb's use or depiction of religion impact your reading experience?" From the entire pool, 83.6% rated it as at least slightly impactful (further broken down in the graph), and 97.4% indicated this was a positive impact.

In open response, respondents listed some reasons why, ranging from: "“it's just a part of the story” to “I enjoy the examination of the ways religion can shape someone's world view, or be used to manipulate and control” and "Religion is my autistic special interest and I love fictional religions!"

Respondents were then asked "Do you have, in your opinion, religious trauma?" The qualifications of religious trauma were intentionally non-specified and left to respondents discretion.

358 respondents, 37.1%, marked yes

This specific group of 358 were asked if this religious trauma impacted their reading of TLT. 66.1% indicated that it did.

Open response answers elaborated on this, saying: “I think reading it is cathartic for me,” “Space trauma lets me look at my real trauma without me or real people being hurt in it,” and “making religion a part of the narrative and drawing out the themes in a way that can be analyzed and picked apart made my experience with religion something I could look at in a similar way.”

The first question from the survey was then returned to, and the ratings of the 1-4 scale were looked at solely in the group of 358 respondents with self-identified religious trauma.

Of these, 90.3% marked a 2 or higher (compared to 83.6); 15% marked a 2 (compared to 22.1%), 31% marked a 3 (compared to 33%), and 44.3% marked a 4 (compared to 28.6%). Pardon the quick graph, as I made it in about 3 minutes specifically for this

Respondents with religious trauma, on average, rated the series' depiction of religion as more impactful to their reading experience than respondents without.

All respondents were then asked, "Has TLT helped you challenge or reinforce your ideas of and experiences with religion?"

Respondents elaborated that: "it reinforced my ideas of religion because I see religion as a means of controlling people, often abusive, and rooted in the supernatural" or "It challenged me to consider how religion can be both a positive force and a hurtful institution. I knew this to a degree already, having experienced both, but reading about it helped reinforce that nuance."

Respondents were then asked on a scale of 1-5, "Does the original text or the fandom contribute more to challenging or reinforcing ideas of and experiences with religion?" 1 is individual text only, and 5 is fandom only.

The majority of respondents indicated an equal impact from the original text and the fandom, however very few people were impacted only by the fandom (1.4%) compared to the number only impacted by the text (13.8%). This wasn't investigated further.

Finally, respondents were asked what religion they'd been referring to or thinking of when they'd been answering the above questions. The vast majority indicated Christianity or Catholicism, though we did not count exactly how many of each; it was clear it was the majority, and that sufficed for our purposes. A larger, more thorough study would be needed to look at Non-Christian/Catholic respondents' experiences in comparison.

The conclusion of all of this was that, as predicted, fans of TLT with self-identified religious trauma were more impacted by the series' use and depiction of religion. This was via catharsis, sympathy, identifying with the characters, and more.

The study demonstrates a function of speculative fiction that allows readers to engage with and process difficult topics (such as religious trauma) though a protected, distanced lens where no one real is hurt. This can be taken beyond TLT and to the genre as a whole, which is often dismissed as less literary or worthy of study than its classical counterparts, an opinion the surveyors argue against.

If you've made it to the end here, thank you again for all the responses and help! I hope you've enjoyed the results, and if there are any further questions feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer them. Upfront, yes there were 2 other components to the project (looking at queer demographics for the fandom and analyzing common themes in fanart and fic); those were my groupmates' sections, so I haven't shared them, but if you're curious I can always ask them if they'd be open to sharing :)

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #gtn #long post #fandom study #i know some people specifically asked about results so i'll try and find your urls to tag in the notes #cannot thank y'all enough for the help with this. we were NOT expecting that many responses #which was why so many of the question options were limited #if we gave too many and had like. 40 people respond and 20 of those each chose a different answer #or gave an open response #that makes it so much harder to extrapolate anything useful from the data #anyway. i'll stop rambling but thanks again! #was one of my most fun projects this semester

[kelstey]

who did this to you?

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : domestic abuse, mentions of disordered eating, toxic relationship (not with mattheo)

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

"gosh, will you hurry up?" cormac paced back and forth in your dorm as you were getting ready.

"i'm trying," you said trying to control your tears. you quickly set your foundation which was heavily packed on, covering the yellowing bruise underneath.

"fucking finally," he groaned. you got up and placed your robe on before the two of you walked down to the great hall for breakfast. thankfully it was the weekend so you could avoid as many people as possible.

you had tried getting out of the relationship, but he always gaslit and guilt tripped you into coming back. cormac had essentially isolated you from 90% of your friends and anyone you ever came into contact with.

he knew what he was doing, he was limiting your options of people to go to by making you out to be a bad person when you were secretly getting abused physically and mentally by cormac.

at first, he was the sweetest boy you had ever met. you thought you had met the love of your life - the man you would marry. you were terribly

wrong.

as soon as he had you wrapped around his finger, he switched. he constantly picked apart your appearance, belittling you and leaving you with minimal confidence.

he once accidentally slapped you during an argument, he told you he would never do it again. he lied.

at first your friends were concerned, they tried helping you, but cormac threatened you that if you told them, he'd hurt you. you were already hurting enough and you didn't think it was worth the risk.

soon rumours made their way around school that you talked shit about your friends, leading many of your friendships to end. you didn't know it was cormac who has behind all of it.

you spotted matthe staring at you already as you walked into the hall. you absolutely hated him - not for anything in particular, the two of you just never got along and have disliked each other since.

you sat down next to cormac as usual. a plate appeared in front of you, and you began to put bits of breakfast onto the plate. "remember to watch what you eat," he dug a hand into your thigh which caused you to lightly whimper as his nails etched into your skin.

"yes," you looked down at the plate, hardly enough for a baby yet alone a growing teenage girl. you began eating some fruit - filling yet good and cormac always appreciated you eating

'healthy' even though you couldn't give a fuck less what he liked, you would eat whatever when you were alone without him.

you finished and gazed around the hall, your eyes landing onto mattheos again. you sent him daggers, and he rolled his eyes before speaking to his friends.

"i need to go to the bathroom," you leaned into cormac's side. he nodded and you left the hall.

you walked down the hall and to the girl's bathroom, you looked into the mirror, noticing your makeup was slightly smudged and you could see the bruising.

"shit," you panicked, you looked through your bag for some powder and concealer, oblivious to mattheo who just entered the bathroom.

"who did this to you?" you heard a voice say and you jumped, dropping your concealer.

"fucking hell mattheo, do you know how expensive that shit is?" you picked up the concealer, forgetting momentarily about the clear bruise on your face.

"answer the question. who did this to you?" he took a step closer to you.

"no one," you said, it was hardly above a whisper though. you could feel tears well up in your eyes as mattheo observed your face.

"i'll fucking kill him," without a second to spare mattheo turned around and made his way back to the hall.

you followed, quick on his trail. "mattheo, please, don't," you tried to grab onto his arm.

"no - he fucking hurt you! why should he get away with that?!" mattheo was clearly angry, both at himself and cormac.

you didn't say anything and let go of his arm, looking down at the ground. you wanted mattheo to batter the shit out of cormac, but some part of you didn't want to see the guy you were dating get punched to death.

"i'll keep you safe," mattheo's hand reached for your chin, pushing it up slightly so you were looking up at him. "i won't let anyone ever hurt you again."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

#mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys #fanfic

[radiance1]

Danny is so, oh so very tired about the amount of marriage proposals that popped up in front of him. Not even a day past his announcement as Crown prince either.

He's thankful that neither of his four parents are pushing him towards accepting it, but it's everyone (besides his friends of course) else who either try and subtly suggest it or outright asks him if he's chosen a spouse yet.

He's only 14! He doesn't need a spouse! And they were probably far older than him too!

Even Vlad of all people took some kind of pity on him and just decided to be a normal (for a billionaire) guy who isn't trying to kill his dad.

...However, that doesn't mean he wants him to seduce him either!

(Danny: Stop trying to seduce my dad you low-budget vampire!

Vlad, calmly sipping tea: No.)

If he wasn't majorly burnt out from the number of proposals he has to sort through, he would most definitely throw him far across town, away from his dad and mom.

He needed to find a way to stop all of these letters that just keep coming, and fast. He doesn't know how much longer he could take of reading fancy script over and over and over again, his eyes already hurt enough.

He tried to ask his Father for help, his only response was to choose a consort that he saw fit to stand alongside him. Then he had to flee before he gushed about his pops.

He asked his pops, who only said that the answer would come to him in time. Which was of no help whatsoever.

He asked his mom, she at least tried to help somewhat. Giving him some equipment to ward off any ghost who would try and forcibly take him as a consort, which had a low chance of happening considering his strength, but he was happy about it regardless.

He then finally asked his dad, after making sure that vampiric leech isn't near any of his human parents. Surprisingly, he had a pretty good idea of what to do.

He was a halfa, wasn't he? Why limit himself to just ghosts? Surely, due to his half-human status he could choose someone near his age among humanity.

Well, not in those exact words, but it was a great idea regardless! Plus, they never did specify if he had to choose a ghost consort anyways.

Now he just had to decide who to pick, really. His two best friends are out of the option, they're close, but not in that sort of way. Plus, Sam is busy with Undergrowth and Tucker bonding with Technus who was apparently apart of his family tree somewhere along the line.

Then, when he was sorting through the letters and was sure his eyes were about to bleed from reading so many fancy words, he felt it. A tug in his chest, gently urging him somewhere, and you know what, it's way better than what he was doing now, so he answered.

He felt the clothes he was swearing in that moment fade into away into the outfit he wore for his coronation. A suit, a crown made of the coldest ice from the Far Frozen, a cape made from the stars along with various little knickknacks made from various gems and a veil hung over his face.

He looked pretty good, if he says so himself. Though he didn't and still doesn't know the purpose of the veil.

He appeared in what looked like an event for a high society party, most likely filled with various rich people. He floated up and quickly looked over the people and released a sigh of relief that Vlad wasn't here, say what you will, but he doesn't fancy meeting with someone who's actively trying to seduce his dad.

He folded his arms behind his back, trying to imitate the imposing figure of his father from his place in the air, looking down at the cultists(?) below who summoned him.

"Who dares summon me." He stated, rule number one, statements hold power, questions do not. The cultist below fell to his knees, either out of devotion or fear, he didn't know.

"Oh, Prince of the infinite, we called you today for the sole purpose of serving this world to one of your standing, please let us be your servants and spare us when you plunge the world into ruin!" Ah, devotion, then. His eyes bore into the woman (from the sound of her voice) below, his silence working well to unnerve her and the other guests.

"Hm." The reward was already stated, but he neither wants too nor will take over the world. "Denied." It was short, swift, and to the point in his books, he thinks he's doing well acting out Pariah Dark!

"B-but my liege, the king-"

"What the king has been known for in the past, has nothing to do with me. You dare to assume something about me, lowly human." The human below him was actually fully blown shivering, now, slamming her head down onto the floor and shouting out a number of apologies.

Rule number two, do not take back requests you have already denied.

Ok, now he feels bad, that probably hurt a lot. But he's already come this far so-

"Is that the only reason you have called me, or do you require something else. Much of my time is not something you can afford." The woman was most undoubtedly about to say something, probably more apologies, or maybe something else, but the sounds of fighting reached the room and the doors slammed opened, the body of a cultist(?) flying through the air and the appearance of what were most likely heroes.

"Well?" He let that question slide, the cold around the room descending around the woman below as a bunch of other cultists tried to fight off the heroes.

The woman seemed hysterical with worry, most likely not wanting to go to jail, perhaps. She quickly took her head off the floor and tried to stand up, almost falling back to the ground but managing to find her footing. "M-my liege, please help us!"

He tilted his head. "And as to what, would you give me?"

"The sacrifice, yes! The sacrifice!" The woman quickly pointed below him, and only then, did Danny realize there was a boy bound below him, only to be met with a glare.

Danny hummed. Yes. That will do. "It shall be done."

Danny waved his hand, ice sprouting from the ground to force the heroes and cultists apart and then blasting a hole through the nearby wall and to the outside, a path of ice leading down to the ground. "Go." He commanded, the woman nodding her head quickly and calling to the others and disappearing outside, he then blocked off the hole with ice.

He then slowly floated downwards, besides the bound human, ignoring the shattering of ice and footfalls of no doubt the heroes trying to stop him from what he was doing. He leaned over the boy- about his age- and asked one question.

"Do you wish to become my consort?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #oopsie #Ended up writing lol #Anwyays #damian wayne #ghost prince danny #damian wayne x danny fenton #He's the guy bound up by the cultists lol #Danny needed to find a consort to not have to deal with marriage proposals anymore #He's sure nothing would really come out of this #Surely after this he could just claim the boy as his consort- if he says yes- and they could just go about their seperate ways #pariah dark #dp clockwork #dp dark ages #dark ages #darkages #Danny has 4 parents and then one vampiric leech trying to worm his way in lol

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Six

— Little Big Gifts

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

You watched as Isabella tugged Max into yet another store with a tight grip on his hand. At this point, you were losing track of how many stores you've been in and out of.

Falling behind a few steps, you took that moment to notice how Max and Isabella could've easily resembled a father-daughter duo to the strangers around you.

Pushing that thought away when Max looked for you, he smiled and held out his other hand—that was still holding a few shopping bags—as a gesture for you to come closer.

"How much money are you planning to spend on her?" You asked, looking at the increasing shopping bags in both yours and his hands, everything bought so far was for Isabella.

You had to physically stop yourself from grasping his bicep, cursing internally when you remembered that it wouldn't be the right thing to do. But you desperately wanted it to be a normal habit.

The first—and last—time you tried to pay was when you were checking out at the register in the first store of the day. Max lightly shoved you aside and tapped his card before you could notice what happened.

The cashier noticed and even commented, "let him pay for it, darling," with a cheeky wink directed at you.

Max looked at you, almost offended at the question you asked. "Until my account is empty," he stated with a shrug and a growing smile on his face when you shook your head. This would've been the perfect time to lean against him and smile at him, but once again you didn't.

"It would take a long time before that happens," you responded and he gave you a knowing look, "that's the point."

Isabella was roaming around the aisles with you and Max following behind. Every time she liked something, she would pick it up and look at you two with the cutest smile on her face while muttering the word, "please."

It reminded you of the day you first met Max through Isabella, since she was doing the same trick as today.

The only difference was that every time that happened, Max looked at you for permission as well and it felt like you were facing two versions of Isabella.

"Mama!" Isabella exclaimed when she laid her eyes on the prize, which happens to be hair accessories.

Little clips with bows, glittery ones, some even had flowers, and she loved it all.

"Pick out the ones you really, really like, Bella." If you didn't limit the items, Isabella would pick one too many. You stood beside her, holding each item that she handed to you.

There were lots of options, but your little girl was picky and this was one of the few times you were grateful for it. She picked out a total of six items, "because I'm six, mama," was her reasoning behind it.

You chuckled, "you can pick out seven things when you turn seven then, okay?" She nodded, and began counting how many months were left until her birthday.

Max watched the whole interaction with soft smile on his face, wondering how he had such amazing luck that he was able to befriend the sweetest mother-daughter duo.

Then, Isabella spotted earrings and asked if she could buy those too. "Your ears aren't pierced, angel." She frowned, "why not?"

“Do you want to get your ears pierced?" You asked, knowing it was a question you'd have to ask one day and it seemed like a good time right now.

"Yes please," Isabella nodded, and looked at both you and Max in anticipation. This time, you looked at Max for reassurance, wanting to know his opinion as well. Though you had no idea why his opinion mattered so much to you.

"It's going to hurt," Max commented or more so stated directed at Isabella, wanting her to know the process behind it. "I am a big girl!" She responded with enthusiasm, and by the tone of her voice, you knew that she had already set her mind on it.

"Okay, big girl, let's get you some piercings after we buy all this," you stated and she smiled brightly, holding onto your hand as you neared the cash register.

As Max reached for his wallet, you placed your hand over his to stop him, and he looked at you with a questioning gaze. "Max, you already did too much," you whispered, ensuring that your daughter doesn't hear you.

"What if I want to do more?" He countered, and you sighed. Then he added, "plus I promised Bella that I would buy her the clips she wanted, and she also asked for ice cream."

You knew he wasn't going to budge, so you let him pay but you needed to have a conversation with him about it.

You weren't used to this sort of treatment, and even after Max reassured you that it was truly his choice to pay, you felt bad.

As you walked out the shop holding Isabella's hand, who was beaming because of the new purchases, you looked at Max, "are you going to let me pay for the piercings?"

He debated it, knowing that if he kept paying, you might never take him along for shopping again. "If you insist," he shrugged and you smiled, quickly placing a kiss to his cheek in appreciation.

While you and Isabella continued walking, Max faltered and stopped midstep. He brushed his fingers against his cheek that you kissed with a small smile growing on his face. Then, he continued walking before you were able to notice that he stopped.

Isabella's nervousness almost matched her excitement as she sat in the chair. The piercer was a kind lady who understood both Isabella's nervousness and excitement.

She explained the process as it was your daughter's first time getting pierced. "Are you sure you want to do this, angel?" You asked, watching her wiggle around in the chair.

Still, her nod was just as firm, "yes mama."

Once the piercer marked Isabella's ear so the placement was precise, she looked towards you and Max then back at Isabella.

"Why don't you hold on to your mama and daddy's hand, you'll forget the pain and we'll be done in no time."

Isabella grabbed onto your hand but then shook her head, "he's Maxy, not daddy," she clarified. Max took a slight step back after her words, the realization dawning on him that he might've gotten a little too comfortable too quickly.

"I'm going to hold onto mama and Maxy's hand," Isabella stated, holding out her hand towards Max with a wide smile on her face, as if she didn't realize the words she spoke just moments ago.

Technically, she wasn't wrong which was why you didn't correct her. But, the truth of the situation wasn't something you focused on until recently, especially after the words Tyler spoke yesterday.

"Can you count to three for me?" The piercer asked Isabella, deflating the tension.

Your focus was completely on your daughter, mainly because you didn't want to think of the possibilities about your future with Max just yet.

The piercer didn't wait until Isabella finished counting, instead surprising her by piercing her ear a second earlier.

Max rubbed her hand soothingly as he noticed her eyes beginning to water but she didn't let a single tear drop. Inhaling sharply, she commented, "that didn't hurt too bad."

"You're a brave girl. Now let's do the other side," the lady commented and Isabella's eyes widened at her words. "The other side?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, "yes, angel, she has to do your other ear unless you only want one earring?"

Isabella shook her head, and sat through the same process for her other ear.

"Good job!" The lady gave your daughter a high five, then she walked away to gather the items needed for post piercing care.

You kissed your daughter's cheek, carefully avoiding any accidental touches to her ear, "my brave girl."

The chair she was sitting on was higher up, so Isabella held her hands out towards Max. He took a step closer and easily wrapped his arm around her, helping her stand firmly on the ground. “You're going to be the coolest kid in first grade," he told her which made her eyes widen with excitement.

"Really?" Isabella asked. "Of course! You got a new bag, new clothes, and even new piercings. You are going to have so many friends."

After Isabella shared her fear of moving to first grade after kindergarten, you and Max tried your best to reassure her that it isn't as scary as she thinks it is.

You went up to the cash counter to pay and the lady explained the steps that should be taken after a piercing for proper care.

Meanwhile, Max was holding Isabella's hand and whispering to each other but stopped once you returned. "Where to next?"

"Ice cream!" Your daughter cheered, and you couldn't say no to her even if you tried. After all, she did deserve ice cream since she put on such a brave face for her piercings.

After buying three different flavours of ice cream, one for each of you, it was time for a much needed break. You knew that Isabella was close to wanting a nap since you saw her eyes droop slightly once you sat down to enjoy some ice cream.

She leaned against you and wandered off into her own imaginative world. "I think we're done for the day," you turned your head towards Max as you spoke the words.

"You didn't get anything for yourself yet," Max commented and you shrugged, "I don't think I have the energy to shop for myself, plus you didn't buy anything for yourself either."

"And you're sure that you're not saying that because you don't want to spend my money?" He asked and you had a sheepish smile on your face that gave you away, “that too.”

Max tried to understand why you were so adamant on that topic. He didn't know why you were so hesitant to spend his money. He knew that if it were someone else, they wouldn't have hesitated. But then again, you aren't just someone else, you're you.

"Fine, mister rich, don't look at me like that. I'll empty out your pockets one day and then you'll realize what a mistake you made," you teased him, knowing that you would never do that. "But, I seriously don't have the energy to continue shopping."

"First, it won't be a mistake if I ask you to do it, and second, I'm here whenever you need me—or in this case, my card—just give me a call."

You were glad that Isabella was not listening to your conversation, because you wouldn't know how to explain it to her.

"You can't say things like that," you nearly whispered. "It's actually true, I'm free for the next ten days. During that, we're going shopping again."

You shook your head with a smile on your face, "I'll take you up on that offer then."

"Good." You leaned closer to him, without actually leaning on him. Even that little inch closer, brought a smile to both your faces but neither commented on it.

Then, when you looked at Isabella, she had almost finished her ice cream but you laughed when you noticed quite of a bit of it smeared around her mouth. "Oh, Bella." She giggled as she tried to wipe away as much as she could with her tongue before using the tissue that you passed her.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17

#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #fluff #f1 fluff

[harlowsbby]

Questions

Summary, just asking Jack a bunch of silly and random questions out of boredom.

Even though it was a cool and breezy day outside Jack and You decided it was best to spend a day indoors with one another instead of being outside.

The two of you were currently on the couch together wrapped up in one another when a question that you needed an answer to crossed your mind.

“Jack.” You spoke and watched as he turned down the tv slightly so he’d be able to hear you better.

“Yes babe?” He asked you and turned his head to look at you, a small smile formed on his face to which you returned.

“I have a question to ask you and it’s important.” Now the question wasn’t exactly that important but it was important to you and you needed answers.

“What is it babe? I’m all ears”. He smiled and gave you his full and undivided attention. You smirked and bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“If you had the chance to save me or save Urban from drowning who would you save and why?” You asked him.

Jack was puzzled for a second because he didn’t expect for you to say something as blunt and wild as that out of nowhere.

“Wait are you being serious? Like you really want an answer to this babe I just paused the movie for this.” He shook his head at you. “How many times have you watched mean girls?” You asked him.

“Enough to know it word by word.” You huffed. “Enough to know that ex-boyfriends are off limits to friends. That’s just like the rules of feminism.”He tried mimicking Gretchen Wieners in this high squeaky tone.

“My point exactly so answer my question.” You demanded.

“Would you save me.” You pointed to yourself. “Or would you save Urban.” You bit your lip and watched him intensely as he gave it a few minutes to think about.

“Honestly, I’d have to weight out my options here.” Jack admitted and you gasped. “Oh so all I am to you is an option? That’s good to know wish I would’ve known sooner.” You faked acted like you were hurt.

He smacked his lips and shook his head at you. “Come on babe you know what I mean like the pros and cons of either saving you and not saving Urban or saving Urban and not saving you.”

“I’m your fucking girlfriend I should be above all your little friends.” You spat and Jack chuckled. “Uh oh is someone getting jealous?” He teased.

“No, just tell me your little pros and cons list.” You admitted. He brought his hand up to his chin and started playing with his beard.

“Well the pros in saving Urban would be I’d still have my best friend and best photographer here, I’d still have my eating buddy, I’d still have my right hand man.” You rolled your eyes.

“And the cons would be well nothing Urban’s the best.” He confessed with a wide smile. “Okay so do me.”

He sighed dramatically. “Honestly babe I wouldn’t bother saving you.” Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as Jack doubled over in laughter.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding hey stop hitting me!” He laughed as he attempted to curl up into a ball to dodge your hits. “Be serious Jack!” You whined.

“Okay, okay so the pros with dating you would be I’d still have my girl, I’d still have you around to cook for me.” You raised your hand to smack him again but he quickly stated that he was joking.

“Honestly baby I could never pick between picking you or Urban the two of you both mean a lot to me and I’d be an emotional reck knowing the two of you are no longer living on this earth.”

You sniffed and rubbed your eyes as you turned from Jack. “Babe?” He said unsurely as you removed yourself from his grasp.

“You good?” He laughed. “I’m good I just I love you so much.” You cried out and flung yourself into his arms making him coo and laugh.

“You’re so silly you know that?” He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head and rubbed small circles on your back. “But you know you love me.” You admitted and removed your head from the crook of his neck, looking up at him.

“That I do.” He grinned. “But I do have a question of my own.” He asked.

“And what’s that?” You paused waiting for his question. “Who’s the best rapper me or Drake?” You sighed. “Drake.”

He gasped and put his hand over heart as if it was aching you laughed and escaped from his embrace. “Is that so? You know what when I catch you ima tickle you till you admit I’m the best rapper!” He yelled and quickly chased after you.

You were a squealing and laughing mess the two of you for a good few minutes till he eventually caught you.

(I know this isn’t much but I promise the next concept will be better! 😭💗)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

[leslie057]

rating things owned by nancy elizabeth wheeler

because she’s got a lot of little things. mostly they are very cute and strange little things.

starting off strong we have the prettiest tissue box in the world. 9/10, i think if i were sick it would make me feel better to have such a nice tissue box.

i’m fairly certain this is her diary beside it because her diary looks pink in the upside down version of her bedroom. so this is probably it? 11/10, i want to read it so bad. and very sweet pic with mom—7.5/10.

next up these pinstripe pants !! 10/10 i love them so much. oh and the index finger ring is there obviously, 8/10, such a consistent piece of her character.

a ribbon for being the bestest girl ever in the world. 10/10. also the card of cardinals: 6/10, probably just a christmas card or something rather than a symbol of her love for birds. but i still like it.

mr rabbit gets 11/10 for the name alone. and why does he look dead. i love him. he’s me.

descent from xanadu: QUITE LITERALLY 0/10. at first i was SO excited to cheer her on for reading a sex and drugs book at school but as it turns out? bizarre and gross. seems to go heavy on nonconsensual stuff. i snagged a free pdf and command f’d for whore and bitch. lots of results obviously (one use of c*ck crazy bitch…lovely). it seems men in this book say a lot of sexist stuff that the women pretend to hate but love which i can’t imagine is great for a teenage girl to consume. also just not sexy at all.

literally so bad, and this is not the worst of it.

sooo bad. the author was what 70 (??) writing that his female character got clinically DIAGNOSED with being a slut for every guy she comes in contact with. i know options for sexy literature were probably limited at this time but…please go check out something else. i wanna bonk her on the head with this book (paperback) and hug her. you don’t need to read this to be cool and sexually aware. moving on.

on the other side of that, the blondie calendar gives us a sense of the GOOD media she’s consuming!! a 10/10 no questions asked. we don't really get to see many of her hobbies or interests outside of investigation so this is a much appreciated detail.

of course like all good things in life the blondie calendar does get replaced. its replacement is what i will call Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #1 seen in her room in s4. i give it a 4/10 because idk what’s going on really.

and here is a very crunchy screencap of Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #2 from s4 which i will give a 5/10. note the boyfriend typical photography above it, for sure a 10/10.

there is also Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #3 which gets an 8/10 because i like the composition and the piano player. where did she get this and why. interior decoration is her passion.

the sleeping bag and crochet pillow setup. 7/10. would take a cat nap here.

pluto!! 15/10, the best mickey mouse character i would say. i hope her cousin is taking good care of him.

bulletin board 10/10. i love how obvious it is that she has had this up for forever. probably a nice constant in her life.

and my favorite pic up there is this precious one. look at herrr. 5000/10.

her floral weekender bag. 6/10, i like it, but not as much as i like the speedwalk and the toss into the backseat. she was SO ready for her lab takedown road trip.

trapper keeper is a 9/10 because they probably put anything and everything on trapper keepers back in the day and yet still she chose this lovely understated hot air balloon. elegant.

tom cruise poster is 1000000/10 actually. she is so loyal to that man. actually though not a great pic of him all things considered so maybe i give it a 999999/10. (i love it so much because i know for a fact that jonathan byers works proactively to never acknowledge this poster, because he is more mature than that.) (he is not more mature than that, in fact he is a little pouty about mr cruise.)

KITTY FIGURINE. 10/10. i thought it was just in s4 but i found it on her other nightstand in s1. very very adorable. i imagine it is now one of the first things she sees in the morning (well that and her blue telephone: 8/10) which is bizarre and cute. the mixtape drawer gets a 10/10 for reasons that i don’t think i need to get into.

white fingerless gloves! 10/10. so chic for monster hunting.

black fingerless gloves from s4. hmmm 3/10, they're cool i guess but they don’t feel very nancy and the white ones are so much better. especially because you may get the splatter effect of monster blood on them in a battle scenario, which would be badass.

piggybank (with her name on the side). 2/10 unfortunately i don’t like him. he looks at me like i took out his whole pig village and i just need some quarters. also did she paint this herself? in that case, 3/10 for customization lol.

pastel underwear drawer: 10/10. her committment to the hollistic aesthetic and color palette of her room is impressive here. it was a good idea to use this drawer as a deterrence against her little brother and a money hiding place but clearly he has no manners and is a THIEF.

STRIPED SOCKS. 10/10. i realize it's hard to see because she's moving so fast (slow down he is not going anywhere) but they are indeed stripey even though i would have guessed solid white. and wow what good sleeping socks. stripes are just cozier. hope she got lots of sleep in those.

#long post #bedroom analysis #stranger things #nancywheeleredit #character analysis #nancy wheeler #karen wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things details #jancy #< target audience #jonathan byers #jonathan x nancy #screencaps #ballet slippers necklace coming in part 2

[thatfreshi]

Little Stars and Such (Astarion x Reader)

It's here, the piercing fic, in which body-modded Tav gives Astarion hella piercings. I made a previous post with his piercing map in case you guys don't know the terms (I basically didn't until yesterday)

Tw - needles, implied sex

Recommended Song: Gregg's Woods - Alec Holowka

For the past couple of days, Astarion has been asking quite a few questions about your piercings. You had adorned your nose and face in tiny pieces of metal, all done by hand. Your little collection has grown over time, most recently with an eyebrow piercing once you settled down in Baldur's Gate once again.

"Do they hurt?"

"Like, when you pierce them? Yeah. You get used to it though. Surprised you don't have any honestly, elves are known for having the most elaborate piercings."

He stays silent for a moment, and you realize he wouldn't know that.

"Wasn't exactly a thing Cazador just let us do. Body modifications were mostly limited to demonic scars and being cut up for fun."

"Right... sorry."

"Don't be."

The conversation ended pretty abruptly, but picked up the next day while you were swapping out your nose ring.

"Do you ever get scared that your little ring will get caught on something and rip out of your nose?"

A sudden question, but a welcome one.

"I mean, sometimes, but not many people are that close to my nose. Unless you're planning on ripping out my piercing?"

You eye him suspiciously and he smirks.

"Oh, I would never."

This goes on for days, little prodding questions about all your accessories. One morning, while the two of you are lying in bed, you catch him staring at the helix on your ear.

"Astarion do you... do you want a piercing? Because I can do them. I mean I did these to myself."

"I've been thinking about it. I'm just a little nervous is all."

"Why my love?"

"I mean, I've never really had the freedom to do what I want with my body, in a lot of ways. That's one of those things I never got to explore, all the body modifications people are oh so familiar with. I suppose I could've done one with an embroidery needle if I was desperate, but that's just not something I had the liberty to think about."

You move a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Well, you have the freedom to do whatever you want now."

"Then perhaps I'd like a couple."

"A couple? You don't wanna start with one?"

"Nonsense! One would be sad and pathetic, and we know I am a man of extravagance."

"Alright, if you insist."

You then grab a notebook sitting on the bedside table, and begin to draw out a plan for his piercings. Astarion insists that he only wants them on his ears, because he doesn't want anything to ruin his perfect face. As you're sketching, you continue to talk.

"You know this is gonna suck, right? Since your ears are so sensitive?"

"Sensitive? What makes you say that."

You blankly stare at him until he gives up.

"Okay fine, but I'm sure it can't be that bad!"

"I don't know. I mean I'm going to stab multiple holes through your ears. You barely like them being touched."

"I've been through enough pain. Nothing compares to jagged cuts in your back, I promise."

There are many moments like that, where he says something tragic that you just can't bring yourself to argue with. Without another word, he curls up against you, and the two of you discuss the options he has. Eventually, you settle on five on each side, because he INSISTED they be symmetrical.

"Tav, what kind of idiot would I look like if I had one ear with a bunch of shit on it, and one just, empty?"

"I guess you're not wrong."

He decides on two helixes, two lobe piercings, and a daith. You're a little surprised that he's going all out on this, but you don't mind. Everyone has that thing that lets them feel free, the thing they finally do to show the world 'I'm my own person.' Besides, if he didn't like them he could simply let them heal back up, forget this ever happened.

You go to grab your little makeshift piercing kit, full of fine needles you've collected over time, just in case you ever lose some.

"Now, you'll have to wear some of mine since you don't have your own earrings yet, but I'm sure you won't mind because my collection is amazing."

He sits up in bed, his shirt sleeve softly draping off his shoulder. If he could still be in the sun, you'd imagine a beam of light coming through the window right now, illuminating his face. You sit beside him, gently placing the box of needles by your feet.

"Alright, I'm gonna walk you through this as I do it, and if you want to stop at any time we can."

"Thank you my love."

The thought crosses your mind, that he'd probably not let any other soul on the planet do this kind of thing. Any time he's let someone else have control over his body, it's been riddled with sin and scars. But you? You've always been kind, soft, present. That's one thing he loves most about you, that he feels like he can be present. Not drifting off somewhere else, not closing off his mind to defend himself, not playing a chess match in his head. It's, easy. Life is easy now, and isn't that something wonderful?

"Alright, we're gonna start on the lobe. You feel the needle?"

You hold it lightly against his ear, and he shivers a little.

"Mhm."

"Alright, don't tense, but it's gonna hurt."

You hear the air escape through his teeth as the needle goes through. A pretty clean job if you do say so yourself.

"Well?"

You put in a dangling gold moon, waiting to see how he feels.

"Painful, but not horrible."

"Want to go again?'

"Of course."

He says it a little suggestively, and you give him a playful push.

"Save it for later imp."

You continue with his piercings, taking small breaks in between for conversation. You've continued adorning his ears with astral-themed jewelry, little stars and such. By the time you've finished the last one, you're quite pleased with your work. Astarion almost doesn't let you put the last earring in since he's so excited to see what you've done. He had Gale teach him mirror image a while ago, so he could finally see his reflection whenever he wanted. After casting it and giving his ears a look, he smiles.

Astarion laughs at your comment, giving one of those genuine smiles you used to rarely see. You silently curse the people that took that smile from him, wondering how anyone could see this specimen and torment him. He's like a pixie, a little trickster, someone you could pick up and hold forever. You know you're probably the only one who sees him that way, the only one who would call him cute, but he is. He enjoys it, being viewed as something that isn't devious or sexual, but a bright presence. You told him once how it's ironic that he can't be in the sun, because he was probably sunnier than the sun itself. He'd never let you tell anyone else that though.

"I... I think I quite like them."

"I do too. It's fitting."

You plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Worth the pain?"

"Most things are my love. Like you."

His hand meets your face, taking you into a deep kiss. When you break away, you whisper in his ear.

"I think they make you sexier too."

A chuckle under his breath, lips meeting again, and the morning is soon wasted away in bed. What a joy, to wake up every day with him, with someone living their life anew. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Neither of you know, but it's exciting none-the-less.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Angel

Summary: Coming home from college without a degree has you scrambling to find your place in the world. Charlie just might be your savior.

A/N: I was thinking this would be set around eclipse. This was in the drafts for a while.

Warnings: Besides an age gap (reader in her 20s Charlie in his 40s) there is none.

Word Count: 3.1K

You didn’t expect your life to turn out the way it did, and neither did the people of Forks. If the confused looks you would get on the way into town were anything to go by. You had been a stellar student, assignments were early if not on time, and teachers never had a bad thing to say about you. You graduated and moved on to college like everyone would expect, but college was harder. It wasn’t even the work, it was you. 

For once you had no set path, everyone else just seemed to know what they wanted to do. After 2 years you realized how far behind you felt you decided to take a break. If you didn’t know what you wanted to do you were just wasting time and money. The loneliness set in soon after too. Although you have friends they’re all off doing their things, making their place in the world. 

Your dad helped if only by sending cringe Facebook posts captioned “It’s never too late.” His efforts were much appreciated but it’s not a good feeling when you feel like you are in last place for a race you didn’t even know you were running. Staying holed up in your room won’t help but at least you won’t have to run into anyone you know. You hate feeling like such a disappointment even though your parents assured you that would never be the case.

After a few weeks of licking your wounds, you started looking for jobs. You reach downtown and begin combing through your options. All of which would require you to run into people who would ask too many questions that you do not want to answer. Forks was already limited in what they had and if you wanted to avoid working for the Newton family your choices were much more slim. But you do take note of it just in case. Syphering through your selections you almost want to give up.

Turning the corner you bump smack into another person, you brace yourself for a fall that doesn’t come. Peeking through one eye you make out a badge and ‘C. Swan’. You immediately straighten yourself up after realizing you just bumped into Chief Swan. 

“You alright-”

“I’m so sorry-”

The both of you speak at the same time, a loud silence fills the air as you both stare at each other. Your wide eyes and his furrowed brow. You snap out of it first and bend down to pick up your fallen pamphlets, The Chief crouches down to help you. 

“You don’t have to do that Chief Swan.” He ignores you in favor of picking up the rest, stealing a glance at them before handing them back to you. 

“Charlie’s fine.” He scratches his head before telling you, “Since you’re looking we could use another receptionist down at the station.” Charlie took pity on you, Although he isn’t one for gossip everyone’s been talking about how you came back from university without finishing. He knows what it feels like to be lost especially in a town like Forks. 

“Really?” The prospect of working at the station was much better than any option sitting in your hands. “Is there anything for me to fill out?”

“No just stop by on Monday and I’ll have Helen walk you through everything.” His mouth forms into what you think is a half-smile, and you return it tenfold.

The conversation with Charlie was so refreshing you’re unsure why out of all the people in Forks he was the one to make you feel normal. You realize it’s because he’s the first person to not question or probe why you’re back here. Working at the station doing administration would be perfect. On your way home you mentally comb through your closet for appropriate clothes you can wear to the station for work. The combination list isn’t huge but you could make it work.

……..

Monday morning you awake at 6:00 am to begin getting ready, he never mentioned a time but you imagine how bad you would look strolling in there at 1:00 pm. You decide on black stretchy office pants, a chocolate sweater, and white sneakers that are comfortable enough to do sustainable walking. Grabbing your backpack you pack your essentials and bid your father goodbye before heading off.

On the way in you have enough time to stop for some coffee so you order for yourself and Charlie as a thank you. You make sure to get his black with no sugar, though you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover you can’t imagine he enjoys cremer. The last stretch of your walk toward the station has your heart pounding. You're not even sure what you are nervous about it shouldn’t be that hard since it’s Forks.

The station smells like stale coffee and mothballs, the atmosphere is mostly static but that’s given. Upon walking up to the front desk you see an older redhead who you assume is Helen. You smile as you approach her and she returns one.

“Excuse me, Chief Swan said to come up here for you to train me on administration stuff.” You hope Charlie actually talked to her.

“Of course, he told me about you yesterday dear follow me.” You set down your coffee before being given the grand tour. After a minute you’re back at the front being directed on your daily duties. Most of which is pretending to look busy, Helen prefers solitaire on her computer to get her through the day. On the other hand, you brought a book that remains hidden behind the ancient monitor in front of you. 

You thought about bringing Charlie his coffee but his office lights are off and his doors are locked so he must be out patrolling already. Within 45 minutes you’re given your first task of making more coffee, while the water pours out you see Charlie step into the break room. His eyes look surprised to see you but his face doesn't change, he peers around you toward the coffee maker before he can ask you to tell him. 

“I bought you coffee on the way in, it is at the front desk.” You quickly leave the break room to get it before he can react. On your way back you inform him, “Black, no sugar, no cream.”

“Thank you.” As he takes the cup your hands brush his, and he can feel the increased beating of his heart. It’s the most contact he’s had with a woman. He likes it. Your bright smile gives him that butterfly feeling he hears Bella talk about with her friend.

“No thank you, Sher- Charlie I appreciate the opportunity.” He waves off your thanks as if he does stuff like this all the time. 

“You adjusting OK?” He finds he wants to keep conversation with you despite his nature. You may be surprised but you don’t show it, enjoying this interaction.

“Yes, Helen is nice and I get to just pretend to work all day.” You bump your hip against him before you can think better of it.

Charlie surprises you with a deep chuckle, It’s not a full-blown laugh but it’s more than enough. It’s no secret that Charlie is one of the more attractive men in Forks, but you didn’t think of him like that until now. Not many men could pull off the 70s pornstache, or his grumpy attitude without being a complete ass. Your thoughts are interrupted by Charlie leaning down to speak quietly to you.

“Well let me know if you need more books to keep you busy Bella’s got tons of those romance ones.” He rolls his eyes playfully and nods his head before heading to his office. 

In the wake of his leave, you revel in the way his deep voice felt so close to your ear. However, you don’t dwell on his actions too much because there is no way he was flirting with you. Making your way back to the front desk you see Helen packing up to leave, she informs you she’s taking lunch. 

Charlie lets out an exasperated sigh at the stack of paperwork waiting for him when he unlocks his office. The coffee you brought him goes straight down like a shot, he appreciates the fact that you knew he wouldn’t like the extra bullshit. Throughout his shift, he sneaks peeks at you. He pauses when he sees you talking on the phone, telling himself he’s only checking to make sure you don’t need help. But the way your lips move has him in a trance, he snaps out of it before you can catch him. 

Even though he spent a fair amount of time staring at you he managed to complete over half of his paperwork. He’s overdue for a break and he knows you could use one since you never took a lunch.  

You have been manning the phones even after Helen came back, you know you should’ve taken your 1-hour lunch but you were in a groove. At least until Charlie strolled up beside you to see what you were doing. You could smell Irish Spring wafting off of him with a hint of laundry detergent. 

“You busy?” It was a loaded question on his part but he didn't want to just command you to come with him. 

“Not for the Chief.” You turn your body towards him to prove your words, and in return the corner of his mouth lifts almost like a smile.

“Lunch on me then?” He asks you with his hands balled in his pockets.

“I’ll never turn down a free lunch.” You turn to Helen to check that she’ll be okay, and she gives you a wink nodding her head toward the chief telling you to ‘have fun’. You raise our eyebrows at the implication.

On the way out Charlie gets the door, and his veiny forearm peeks out from his uniform. You wouldn’t say you have a thing for hairy guys but yet again Charlie somehow makes it work. Luckily you could blame the frigid breeze for your flustered expression. You follow his lead to the cruiser and he opens your door for you again. Your bashful expression after thanking him goes straight to his lower stomach, it’s been a while since a woman looked at him so fervently. 

Once he’s in the cruiser a comfortable silence fills the air, and you think of all the things you could bring up with him later in the diner. So far all you’ve come up with are sports and books but honestly, that should be more than enough for Charlie. Orange leaves take up most of the ground, a warning for the upcoming months. The diner is the same as always when you pull up, you open the door before Charlie can hustle his way to where you are. The stern look he gives you only makes your sudden attraction to him worse. 

The bell above the door alerts Cora to your presence. Charlie saddles up right behind you urging you forward with his hand on your middle back. Walking past the patrons, you can feel the questioning stares. But you’re sure Charlie won’t pay them any mind so neither do you. At the booth, Charlie gestures for you to slide in first.

Cora turns to you for your order since she already knows Charlie’s by heart.

“I’ll do a burger and fries with a sprite please.” You smile at Cora as she takes down your order. 

“So,” You turn to Charlie, “What’s been going on in the sports world?” 

Charlie’s side glance is enough to make you laugh. “Steelers are cleaning up, they have a path to the Super Bowl.” He didn’t mean to look at you crazy but it was the first time in a while someone was genuinely interested in his interests. The flutters in his stomach make another appearance. 

“My dad’s a cowboy fan so it’s the same thing every year.” Charlie snorts at that. 

The sound of plates landing in front of you ends your and Charlie’s moment. Looking up your eyes meet Cora’s and you thank her before she leaves again. You and Charlie waste no time digging into your food. With all of your fries and most of your burger gone you throw in the towel, leaning back against the booth.

“You gonna eat that?” Charlie eyes the rest of your burger.

“No, you can have it.” After your acceptance, he finishes it in one quick bite. You wish you didn't find that attractive.

……….

After your first lunch together many were shared, Charlie would always schedule his break around yours to make sure you ate. He also wanted to spend time with you when the opportunity would lend itself. The feeling was mutual, you put in more effort with your work outfits and make-up. Every morning you would stop to get Charlie coffee on the way in, and Helen would always give you sly smiles. You figured she picked up on the undertones of your and Charlie’s interactions, but unlike most people, she kept it to herself.

That didn’t stop others from probing you about your “Diner Dates” with the Chief. When you were collecting produce a few older women came up to you under the guise of concern. They told you getting with a man that age wouldn’t be good for any girl your age, while it was good advice you know it wasn’t given with good intentions. Instead, you pretend to not know what they are talking about effectively outing their ill-informed gossip. Charlie also hadn’t shown any initiative to ask you out on an actual date so you’re unsure where the fuel is coming from. 

The next day at work you decide to pull back seeing as the entire town somehow thinks you both are dating. You took your lunch before Helen, the words of the older ladies on replay in your head. Sure it was the wrong messenger but it was the right message you don’t know what you were thinking. 

It didn’t last a day, Charlie came by the desk deliberately when Helen took her lunch. 

“Hey there’s some discrepancies with the evidence log of Riley’s stuff, can you help me sort through it.” Though he posed it as a question he began to walk toward his office immediately. 

Once you’re in the office he shuts the door behind you before he moves to stand in front of his desk.

“I just uh wanted to check that everything was alright,” He clears his throat before continuing, “That you feel comfortable or if there’s something I’ve done.” After he finishes your face morphs to shock.

“No of course not, I just know there’s been some gossip around town about us dating and figured I’d have lunch by myself.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow at your admission.

“I haven’t heard anything did someone say something to you?” His voice drops at the thought of anyone badgering you about this. 

“It’s not a big deal, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfo-” He cuts you off with a deadpan stare. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable with people thinking a woman out of my league is dating me?” His definitive words leave you stunned. “It is a big deal, do you remember who it was?”

“No it’s fine Charlie really,” You try to convince him.

“It’s not if means you don’t go to lunch with me.” He gripes.

“I didn’t realize you enjoyed my company that much.” You stare at him until he returns your gaze.

“Well I do.” He assures you.

The both of you stand in front of each other in silence, the smile grows bigger on your face at Charlie’s confession. 

“Does this mean you want to go on a date with me?” You inch your way closer to him, gently tugging his tie. 

“Of course I do, I was working my way up to it.” He swallows hard when he feels you get even closer to him. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes never stray from his as your smile widens. Charlie’s eyes fall to your lips just as quickly as he looks away. You grab his hands placing them on your waist before bringing your lips to his ear. “How about now?” 

Charlie’s hands firmly grip your waist when he feels your warm breath tickle his ear. His pants grow tighter when your perfume invades his nostrils. When you reer back to look at him he wastes no time planting his lips on yours. His mustache tickles underneath your nose but you respond back with the same fervor. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, Charlie groans at your eagerness. 

Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck to play with the hair on the back of his neck. When his tongue licks your bottom lip you eagerly open your mouth to him, pressing your chest against his. Charlie lets his hands dip to cup your ass through the jeans you’re wearing, earning himself a pretty moan from you. The way his tongue licks into your mouth gives you ideas of what else he would be good at. 

But all good things come to an end, and a knock at the door sends you two flying apart. You immediately focus on fixing yourself so it doesn’t look like you were in a make-out session with your boss. A folder catches your eye and you pick it up hoping to look busy. Helen peeks her head in to let Charlie know Bella is getting dropped off by Edward. Charlie’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the mention of his daughter’s boyfriend, you can’t stop the giggle that pours out of you. 

Helen slips back out and Charlie walks over to the far corner you’ve placed yourself in. “It’s a little backward now but would you let me take you out on a proper date?” 

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” You smile up at him knowing he knows you’re joking.

“How does Saturday at 7 sound?” He bends down to your ear before continuing, “I know a nice Italian place in Port Angeles.” When he pulls back he is glad to see the bashful expression on your face. He’s still got it. 

“It sounds great Charlie.” You get on your tip toes to peck him on the cheek before exiting his office. 

On the way to your desk, you see Edward and Bella sitting in the waiting chairs talking. As you sit down you see Bella’s head snap in your direction, her and Edward's conversation halting. You pretend to do work as usual until Charlie comes out to greet Bella and grunt in Ed’s direction. 

#charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight fic #charlie swan x female reader #twilight

[pheavampire]

Astarion, Cazador and D&D vampire lore

Let’s talk about D&D vampires and some lore inconsistencies in Baldur’s Gate 3.

BG3 is not a game about vampires. It was obvious we won’t get a playable character who will be 100% vampire spawn from the handbooks - the mechanical balance would be disturbed in comparison with other characters. But we can list some weird stuff and missing aspects. For fun, for fanfiction, for nerdiness.

I still wonder why Cazador even asked Astarion if he wants to be turned. Sure, he could do that, so he could say later „ha ha you asked for it!” but still - weird. Anyway, a vampire lord doesn’t need to ask - he just bites his victim, kills it by drinking its blood and boom, a vampire spawn is made. Almost made…

… because at first the victim needs to be buried and layed in the ground before it rises. That’s the next question - how the hell did Cazador make 7000 spawns? Theoretically he needed to bury them all, dig them back/wait until they dig themselves out or something and transport them to his dungeon without being noticed. His servants could do that for him, but it still is a pretty big thing to cover. Besides…

… accordng to D&D 3.5 edition: "At any given time a vampire may have enslaved spawn totaling no more than twice its own Hit Dice" which means it was impossible for Cazador to create 7000 spawns. Sure, Baldur's Gate 3 uses 5 ed rules, but I'm sure they didn't change this one that much. (BUT! We can interpret this rule as: a vampire lord can create as many spawns as he wants, but the number of enslaved ones is limited. That's all right in this case).

That being said, Astarion is surprised when he discovers that all Cazador’s victims are spawns now. One of his dialogue options is „I thought Cazador was feeding on you”. Well yes, he had to feed on them to make them spawns Astarion, I thought you noticed that yourself 200 years ago. But let's say I understand your confusion, 7000 spawns mean Cazador's hit dice is 3500. Lol.

As a vampire spawn, Astarion should be able to regenerate even without biting someone. To be precise, he should get 10 health points at the start of every turn until he gets killed. But ok, this one doesn’t work in the sun, so let’s say it’s justified… unless the party is in the underdark, shadowlands or other dark place. But yeah, that would be too OP.

Astarion should be afraid of holy symbols, mirrors and garlic. That would be quite irritating, as he wouldn’t be able to even get near Selune's stuff or Lathander’s temple (Lathander HATES the undead, just ask poor Jander Sunstar). But let’s say the tadpole gave him immunity.

Spider climb. Imagine Astarion climbing walls or even ceilings like a damn Spiderman - this is what a regular vampire spawn can do. If the tadpole took away this ability, that’s not very nice of it.

Claws. Astarion should be able to transform his fingers into claws at will. That’s right, it works like another melee weapon.

Coffins, graves et cetera - bunk beds in Cazador's palace are a very anti-canon idea. Because D&D vampires have really traditional weaknesses, they always have to „sleep” in the ground they were buried in to recover - just like Cazador. Jander I mentioned earlier invented an un-lifehack, as he was traveling through Faerun by keeping some of the dirt from his grave in his pocket. He was scattering it in the place he wanted to rest for some time.

A vampire spawn can be controlled or banished by clerics like any other undead. That's right, when Shadowheart casts this one, Astarion should roll the dice, or else he will have to run away from her like those zombies you banished during your playthrough.

Last but not least, vampires get damage if they are in the flowing water, for example river, but you already know this one from the early access Astarion. Shame they removed it, in was a bit irritating but I loved it. It reminded me Astarion is a vampire not only in the dialogues.

That's all I can think of now. My knowledge is a mix of 3.5 and 5 ed, do with it what you want. I wouldn't mind more lore accuarte Astarion fanfics though.

Shocked Astarion reading D&D Monster Manual. Or Libris Mortis.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #cazador szarr #cazador #vampire spawn #dungeons and dragons #d&d #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband Naoya and I was wondering how much worse he’d be if him and Y/N had to share custody of a child(How the Zen’ins let Y/N get a divorce AND get joint custody idk. Maybe it was Naoya’s last act of kindness to his wife). Hehehe, I feel like it’d be so messy

Heya anon!!

Couldn't get this idea out of my mind because I needed the angst :> I gotta say, your child here is the true victim. And yes, it would be messy. You'd end up hating Naoya for it—

But I won't say much, I'll let you read it instead :)

warnings: naoya is your ex-husband. you have a daugther named naomi. naoya's a jerk. naomi is a victim of his idiotness. toxic relationships. physical violence.

also, this is the work anon is referring to (can be read independently.)

Happy reading!!

Sharing custody of your beloved daughter Naomi with Naoya is, as expected, the most surprising, frustrating, and difficult (if not borderline impossible) things to do.

And no, it’s not because you must arrange your schedule to fit this new lifestyle—nothing that ever related to Naomi could be that.

Rather, because of the things Naoya was doing to spite you. He might deny it as much as he wanted, but what else could you call these… questionable behaviors?

First, through setting up thousands of excuses as to why the place Naomi was to visit with him was not good enough.

Sure, you could argue that as her father, he was entitled to… voice his opinion and choose an option that would also be of his liking—it’s their time together, after all, which didn’t happen every day; restricted to the weekends, per previous agreement.

But his suggestions were just so stupid, if not inappropriate for a child!

What made him think that spending the weekend over at this office was any good?

Or going to all these fancy restaurants that limit Naomi when it comes to her behavior?! She’s a kid, for god’s sake—the weekends are supposed to be a break from the boring school routine she’s subjected to on the weekdays!

“The amusement park is too noisy.”

“There’s too many germs at the water park.”

“She if wants to see a movie, she can do it at the house.”

Just to state a few.

It was highly infuriating, to say the least, to see how dismissively he behaved towards his own daughter. Angering enough, that the next time he said one of those stupid comments of his, you couldn’t help but lash out, wondering—

“Do you even love Naomi?”

Naoya remains quiet at your accusation, before opting to scoff in response, rolling his eyes, and leaving.

You believed that it wouldn’t get any worse than this. That it couldn’t.

But oh, how wrong you were.

By the next time Naomi returns from spending the weekend with her father, she runs to your arms as soon as she steps through the door, teary eyed and highly distraught, confiding you with words which prove Naoya can indeed be worse.

No, not worse.

Straight up atrocious.

“Naomi, pumpkin, what’s wrong??” you fret, taking the poor child in a tight embrace as she begins to cry.

“I don’t want to go with papa anymore…” is what she confesses, and at the notion of Naoya doing something stupid, yet again, your chest tightens with anger.

«Just what did he do this time?!» Your mind would frantically wonder, going through a long list of possible causes, hating each one more and more as you went past them.

And yet, no amount of preparation would be comparable to what Naomi eventually confessed.

“Papa made me call a… a woman mama.” She begins. “I—I didn’t want to, but he—he told me I couldn’t go back if I—if I didn’t do it…!”

That’s it.

Naoya has done it.

Officially.

You could respect his intolerance when it comes to doing something genuinely fun, or his lack of tact when being a father—hell, even you were accepting of it, outside of what the law said. Because deep inside you, you still believed he deserved to be in Naomi’s life.

And now that this new advancement rose to the occasion, regardless of how much it hurt you, you were also willing to accept the fact he was moving on with someone else.

But this…

This was beyond your limits.

Because if Naoya had any issues. it would be kept between him and you.

Naomi is nothing but an innocent girl that deserves to have parents that love her, and have nothing but her happiness in mind, doing all what it takes to ensure such a thing!

Not a father that immaturely tried to spite the mother of his child for bitter reasons.

And certainly not a mother that allowed this to go on for far too long.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You’d shriek the moment you got a look at him in his office, Naoya freshly out of a meeting, and rightfully taken aback by your sudden, unannounced visit—any other time, you would’ve cared enough to not have caused a scene, but when it came to Naomi, you didn’t care if this was all his employees and family would talk about for the upcoming weeks.

You just bothered to know what was inside his stupid little fucking mind to have demanded such absurdity from your daughter and disrespected you in the process!

“What are you doing here, Y/N—"

“I can respect you seeing other people, really, I do.” You cut through his words; this isn’t his moment to talk, after all. “In fact, I’m glad you have! Great, you’re moving on!

But I will not tolerate disrespect towards my daughter, or my role as her mother! Did you know Naomi came back home crying because you forced her to call a woman she doesn’t even know her mom? What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking of what was right.” He quickly interjects, a prominent frown on his face. “Do you think it’s acceptable to have this—this arrangement??”

“No, it’s not, because I should’ve gotten full custody of her!” you cry back. “I can’t believe you managed to convince the judge you were actually a good father to her! But let’s be real, that was your family’s money talking, wasn’t it?”

“Y/N—I won’t allow you to—!”

“Oh, but I have to?!” you gasp. “I have to take the way you treat Naomi weekend after weekend? Dismissing her like she was just a random kid, and not your daughter? Which you wanted to have if I need to remind you! And after all this, you still have the nerve to tell me I’m being disrespectful?!”

“Well, now that we’re talking about reminders, you’d do good in remembering you’re the one that filed for divorce! The whole reason this is happening at all is because of you!”

“Fine! I’ll play the villain if you want to—But I won’t stomach you hurting Naomi!” you cry. “She is your daughter, Naoya! At least have a bit of decorum when it comes to her!”

“Ha! I don’t recall having a daughter so insolent against her own fa—”

Naoya doesn’t even finish his words before your hand lands a slap across his face, a movement so harsh that effectively turns his head to the side, with a sound equally resounding in both his mind and office, that left him both speechless and startled as everyone else quickly exited the room, understanding it was best to leave in their own terms while they still could.

While you, on the other hand, frantically tried to wrap your head around the fact that not only was he comfortable insulting you, but your innocent daughter as well.

The one person that did not deserve any of the horrible things he was doing.

The one act you could never forgive.

“Do not, ever, talk about Naomi like that!” you hiss. “Naomi has been nothing but accepting of your irresponsible parenting! Far more than she should be! In fact, she’s—she’s always excited to wait for the moment she’ll get to see you again, since you don’t bother reaching out to her any other way!

And you still dare talk about her like that?! What is wrong with you, Naoya?! Why are you doing all of this?! You literally don’t have anything in your odds to be behaving this way!

You have a good job, no—you have your whole life set, and you’re moving on with someone else too! So, why must you keep hurting me and your daughter? Are you not satisfied with what you have? With your new life without the wife you hated oh so much?!

Or do we—do we have to be miserable just for you to be happy?”

But even then, Naoya doesn’t respond; instead, he just keeps silent, as if deep in his thoughts while placing his hand over his cheek, carefully feeling the marks of your attack underneath his fingers before eventually glancing back at you.

And you don’t know what it was—perhaps the silence following the turmoil allowed the depths of your emotions to finally settle, or maybe it was the disbelief of reaching your breaking point and hurting Naoya, an act you greatly came to regret later on, pushed you to it— but you’d end up revealing far more than what you initially wanted.

Offering a glimpse of your true feelings, a question that erupted the moment divorce crossed your mind, and filed the papers, continuing to torment you to this day, more so when doing what you did…

“Where—where did we go wrong?”

“You did this.” Naoya accuses—there was fury in his eyes, an expected sentiment after all that transpired. And yet, underneath that fire, something inside you was still able to discern that far from pained by the act… he was sorrowful both got there in the first place. “All of this is your fault—”

“What was I supposed to do, Naoya? Stay behind in a household where I was nothing but miserable, where your family wouldn’t bother respect me, or our daughter, and with you—you allowing all of it? Like we were deserving of it?” you breathe. “Did you…. all this time—Hate me?”

“No, I don’t hate you.” Naoya disputed. “I—I don’t—I never did.”

“Do you hate Naomi, then?” you fret. “How—how could you do that, Naoya? She’s your daughter, for fucks sake! A child! What could she have done to you to earn your hatred?! You—you even wanted her!”

“It’s not—It’s not against her—it never was. I couldn’t do anything to hurt—”

“Then what is it?! What is it that has you so—so angry at us!”

“Y/N—I—I don’t know—”

“Just tell me!” you cry. “Tell me!! Why is it always so hard for you to tell the truth?!”

“I never wanted to hurt Naomi! I could never!”

“Don’t lie to me—not after all the horrible things you’ve done to her! Do you really need us to be miserable just to be happy?! You have everything in the world! Why can’t you just let us go—"

“Because I never wanted you to leave!” He suddenly confesses, a shocking truth that hits you across the face, perhaps much sharper than the slape you gave him, leaving you silent all air leaves your lungs. “I never wanted that—that stupid divorce! Or for you to act like I wasn’t even important to you!”

“Naoya—what does that even—”

“You know damn well what I mean!” he hisses, burning tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “I—I could never hurt Naomi, I wouldn’t dream of it—but it was the only way to get you to look at me. The only way to see you again—or even—or even react to me!”

“Wha—what?”

“Ever since you… ever since we got divorced, is like I don’t exist to you anymore.” Naoya continues, lowering his gaze to the floor, the weight of his actions, as well as your hardened gaze, too much for him to take. “I call you, text you, even try looking for you at your house, but you’re nowhere to be found. Or even… interested in seeing me again.”

“And why would I want to do that?” you murmur, frowning. “With the way you treated me—the way you’re treating our daughter, why would you even think I want to do that?”

“Can you say with certainty, that you don’t feel anything for me anymore, then?” Your ex-husband adds. “That in your heart, there’s nothing—nothing left for me?”

“That’s… that’s not what matters.” You pause. “Not anymore.”

“So that’s it? That’s what you’re going with? You’re just going to abandon this marriage, like it didn’t mean anything?” Naoya takes a step closer to you, and while you move away from him, you don’t do the same at the second attempt, less when he placed his hand over your cheek, gently touching you the same way he’d done many, many years ago—when the two were, perhaps, still in love.

“It meant the world to me, Naoya.” You say, voice trembling, doing your best to not let the tears in your eyes slide down your cheeks—to no avail, caught by his gentle thumb. “There was nothing more than I wanted than to make this marriage work. But… it wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much I tried, or how many children we had—”

“We can still do it—we can still go back and make it better—right this time."

But deep inside you, you knew that wouldn’t be possible.

Because what you hoped Naomi would represent, the one last chance to save this marriage… simply became its doom, a tool for him to use against it as well—a declaration that truly, not even a blessing, like was meant to be for you and him, could do the now impossible task.

After all, if it didn’t happen during the marriage… what security did you have it would happen after? More so with the things he selfishly did to grab your attention?

It was unjust for Naomi. The one person you’ve long accepted to shift your whole existence for, and would willingly continue to do so, even if it meant letting go of what once made you happy.

Or wished that one day would.

Your work was carved out for you, you just… needed to stop being the delusional mother that wished for a happy, healthy marriage with the man you considered the love of your life…

And walk away from the father that is still unwilling to let go. the father from not letting go.

“I hope you enjoyed your weekend with Naomi.” You begin, moving away from his hand and getting a glimpse of his shocked, if not confused, eyes, which gave you the impression he knew what you were to say—

Or perhaps, the reluctance to accept this was to happen.

“Because it’ll be the last.”

Ex-husband was too merciful of a title to give him.

With at that happened, and all you needed to do…

No one was more fitting.

Oof, that was angsty :s well, it's safe to say Y/N and Naoya are not happening again.

I honestly always liked the idea that if Y/N and Naoya break up/divorce, they wouldn't date again. Sure, they'd try, specially with Naoya's family, but they would never move on. They can't—their fates were destined to be with one another, and if not possible, then that's it—no other person can come into their life.

Gee, how... dramatic of me lol. But, well, I like tragic stories :)

Anyways, I hope it was to your liking! Thank you so much for this angsty ask heheh. Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[etaindelaserna]

Hello, hello...What do you think are KakaSaku and DraMione’s each greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic each?

(Hope you don't mind, that I copy the same questions from that same ask of that anon about SukuIta).

P.s Also can I ask your top 5 fav fics of those 2 ships? Please and thank you.....

Greetings!✨ Minding? Are you kidding me? I get to talk about my favourite characters and ships soooo let’s get down to it, shall we?

Kakashi is a genius in all ways that matter to become the perfect shinobi: he’s intelligent, capable of cold logic, perceptive, talented and has the will to perfect his skills. To me his greatest quality is to think fast and outside of the box. Not only does he analyse situations quickly but he also knows how to adapt his plans according to the changing variables.

Greatest weakness? Hmm…younger Kakashi certainly had more than one but older Kakashi? I think, since Naruto and Sasuke were the troublemakers with the greatest potential he focused — naturally — too much on them and forgot all about Sakura’s training. He knew she had the best chakra control among them and still abandoned her. Maybe he thought she would be fine without too much guidance but I think he underestimated her potential because she acted a typical teenaged girl.

Sakura is intelligent. She might not be a tactical genius like Kakashi but she definitely matches his analytical talent. It takes her till Shippuden to not only be good at analysing situations but to also come up with good plans. That and her chakra control make her formidable.

Her greatest weakness? I have to go with simping for Sasuke. On the one hand focusing on getting Sasuke back and not wanting to stand in his or Naruto’s shadow helped with her training, on the other hand it limited her options of what she wanted to do/achieve in life. We never find out. She had the obligation to do something with her talent apart from “stopping” and “loving” Sasuke and it was waaaaaasted.

KakaSaku

To me it made sense that in another universe or time or under different circumstances those two characters could have been close friends or more. They are both intelligent and nerds in their respective fields, which are traits Sakura — even when she was a Sasuke fangirl — appreciated. They are both kind and empathic characters with similiar values. I always had the impression that Sakura definitely would go for a partner, who matches her intellect and competence. Canon-wise Kakashi never invalidated Sakura’s feelings or made her feel bad about herself for not being or acting like the perfect shinobi. Instead he looked out for her, saved her or comforted her. I think the moment Shippuden rolled around he also respected her as a fully fledged shinobi. He acknowledged her skills but never stopped looking out for her in dangerous situations. Kakashi showed her the level of care and kindness her love interest should have given her. But since Sasuke couldn’t allow himself to have such bonds, the contrast between his behaviour towards Sakura and Kakashi’s was even more apparent. Not even Naruto was so soft with her:

The softness of that gesture... During the Kaguya fight we get more than one scene where they are both so soft with each other. Not to mention every time Sasuke acts like a dickhead we get a reaction shot like this from Kakashi:

Kakashi was always good a reading her. It looked like as if they had some sort of understanding of one another that didn't require a lot of words, probably because they are both very perceptive. Apart from that I think the difference in their temperament is the best combination for a power couple. They remind me of Minato and Kushina in that regard. He, the quiet, logical and kind one. She, the explosive emotional and intelligent one with too much doofus energy. Take that and their shared history and you have so many interessting arcs and story building elements you can explore.

Favourite Fanfictions:

I Found You Missing by Wolfy Tales

Unbroken by princezsupastar

Duty Before Honor by SilverShine

Will of Fire by Cynchick

Christmas Confessions by Cynchick

Draco always had a lot of potential. His intelligence and creativity as well as his love and commitment to his family are his greatest strength. I think during his attempt to kill Dumbledore all of these attributes are combined and show what Draco is able to accomplish if he sets his mind to it. He is a problem solver and is able to make connections that aren't obvious to other people.

His insecurity and need for recognition is what is holding him back. It's also what fosters his cowardness. For some reason he is the Malfoy heir and still feels the need to compensate for not living up to his father’s (?) expectations. He is also more tilted towards the easy way instead of working hard or taking responsibility.

Hermione is brilliant and very persistent. A deadly combination. When she has a clear goal in mind she is working rentlessly towards it. Sometimes even with no regard towards others. Her ambition, studies and her talent to think logical saved Harry and Ron more than once.

Greatest weakness has to be her disregard of other opinions. She can be close-minded and has a hard time accepting other views about the world, especially about topics she has already thought through. Everything she doesn't understand or isn't able to dissect with logic, is dismissed or questioned by her.

Dramione is an intriguing idea because on the one hand they are opposites of each other: the Malfoy heir and the girl next door, the pureblood and the muggle born, Slytherin and Gryffindor, Death Eater and Golden Girl. And yet they also mirror each other in various aspects: Draco makes fun of her blood status showing he his set in his view of the world but so is Hermione. Accepting other views is hard for her. Draco can be analytical and hellbent on achieving his goal. Similar to Hermione. He can be cruel but so is she. He knows exactly what to say to trigger people but so does she. They are both impulsive. He is insecure ablout himself as is she. He wants to be recognized as does she. You can ask so many story building questions with these setups alone — even when you don't count in both the canon and headcanon moments and the shared history of those two. The clashes of their personalities and ideals makes for pure entertainment and drama, but their similiarities and the conflict of them being on different sides of the war is what great love stories are made of. They play well off each other in every situation you throw them in. I always thought that Hermione needed someone who is as smart and ambitious as her, but who is also able to question her world views and who isn't afraid to push her limits. Also he would charm her with his ingenuity. As for Draco (and that's purly speculation on my part), I think he would've reacted well towards somebody, who values something other than the Malfoy name in him.

Favourite Fanfictions:

Inverse by Elesrea

Osculum Annuum by MyDelphi

The Green Girl by Colubrina

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8

Dragon’s Heartstrings by pinkinku

#dramione #draco x hermione #kakasaku #kakashi x sakura #favourite fanfictions #kakashi hatake #sakura haruno #draco malfoy #hermione granger #kakasaku fanfiction #dramione fanfic

[fromtheseventhhell]

Interesting how the Trident incident is the only moment where people question Joffrey's capacity for cruelty. He is almost universally considered one of the worst asoiaf characters, with no redeemable qualities. No one ever attempts to justify his actions when he abuses Sansa, orders Ned's executions, or any of his other many acts of violence. It's only this moment, a moment meant to introduce us to his cruel nature, that people seem to believe him to be a rational character with limits. It's honestly laughable. It's evident that the people who think like this are just biased against Arya; the majority of these arguments are centered not around Joffrey's violence, but Arya's actions to defend Mycah. People seem to truly believe that the better option would have been to let Joffrey "have his fun" and torment Mycah.

Debating how badly Joffrey would've hurt Mycah misses the entire point of the moment. Joffrey attacks Mycah because he's lowborn, he finds amusement in tormenting others, and he knows he can get away with it. He was quick to pull his sword and draw blood and, from what we know of his character, he undoubtedly would've taken it further. Arya stands up to him because she thinks that Mycah is worth defending which is significant considering she is the only one to do so. She is also the only character who mourns him and is affected by his senseless death, even books later (Ned is affected by his death but I wouldn't say he mourns him, although it is a moment that influences his feelings towards the Lannisters and Robert). Even if, which is a very big if, Joffery hadn't intended to go any further he had already crossed a line by attacking Mycah. The only alternative would be that Arya simply sits by and watches Joffrey further injure Mycah...and that's somehow the "better" option?

The people coming to the conclusion that Arya was the one who escalated the situation (and that it's somehow not Joffrey pulling his sword on an innocent boy) are coming from the perspective of the classist society that they live in. Joffrey attacking a lowborn boy wasn't an issue worth action, but harming a prince is "wrong". Mycah being attacked, and later murdered, is seen as inconsequential to the other characters (and readers) because he is lowborn. That's the thing though. You aren't supposed to look at this situation where a young boy is murdered for no reason and think that the only one who defended should've behaved differently. This moment is a criticism of the classist society these characters live in. It is significant that Arya is markedly less classist than a majority of other characters and cares when no one else does.

Further, if Arya were truly in the wrong for her actions then Joffrey wouldn't have needed to lie about what happened. From the very existence of the "trial" and Arya being given the chance to tell her version of events, we know that there wouldn't be any punishment if the truth of the situation had been told from the very beginning. The only reason there was an issue is because Joffrey decided to attack Mycah, and then later lie about what happened. Arya is not responsible for Joffrey's cruelty, Cersei's enabling, or Robert's subsequent apathy. The fact that people can't seem to comprehend this is maddening. I've never seen people have the same attitude towards Sansa for speaking up for Dontos, even though it incurred Joffrey's wrath and would've escalated had Sandor not spoken up. Why are Sansa's actions brave and kind, but Arya's are seen as stupid and reckless? What happened to not blaming young characters for the actions of others?

This is one of those things where the fandom decides for themselves that they know the story being told, without actually looking at how it's written. They would rather debate on (baseless) hypotheticals than look at why George presented the story to us the way he did. It takes an insane amount of misinterpretation to decide that Arya's actions are the reason for Mycah's death and misses a, rather large, point being made by the author. Notably, none of these people can ever provide evidence from the book to support their insistence that Joffrey would've simply left Mycah alone. You would think that since that's the basis of their argument and they're so adamant that their analysis is correct, they would be able to support their reasoning. It's almost as though the books don't support their interpretations...

#arya stark #ned stark #joffrey baratheon #the trident incident #anti arya bs #fandom nonsense #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #people are joining the class wars on the side of classism and that's just insane to me sdksdkdsk #you are not supposed to think that Arya defending a lowborn boy being attacked is wrong! or that her not being classist is wrong oh my god #yeah George's point was totally that it's better to bow to classist ideals than defend those who are unfairly treated /srs #he wrote a bunch of characters victimized by a bigoted society cause he was in a silly goofy mood he definitely wasn't making a point 🤪 #I've said this before but it really is alarming that George has more progressive ideas then a lot of people in fandom #anyways it rocks that Arya defended Mycah it rocks that she isn't classist it rocks that she wants justice for him #it rocks that she's constantly thinking about trying to protect those who can't protect themselves and that she wants justice for them #hurray for privileged characters growing beyond the ignorance of the society they were raised in!!! #praying people don't try and misinterpret what I said because my point about Sansa/Dontos isn't that she was wrong for speaking up for him #it's that people are hypocritical and biased when it comes to Arya and her behavior #the same people who say you can't blame Sansa for lying will blame Arya for Mycah and Lady's death it's honestly hilarious

[suzukiblu]

disappointed missing fearless

Cut for weird alien biology kinky porn but mostly just for length. Also, I don't know if there's an actual established ship name for Slobo/Kon but this is technically from a YJ polyam fic either way, so idk if it actually matters right now, hah.

Pretty sure I posted at least some of this excerpt before, but this SHOULD be the extended edition.

"The Boy Wonder just had to be our token straight," Kon grumbles, folding his arms. Which is whatever, fine, preferences are preferences and the dude's still his friend and he would still very literally die either for him or on his say-so, but is the idea of letting Kon go down on him every now and then and maybe also making out a little somewhere in there really that unappealing? Like, seriously? 

Bats are the freaking worst. 

"What's it matter?" Slobo asks, wrinkling his nose at him. 

"I mean, it doesn't matter-matter," Kon says with an exasperated sigh. "But also I just want to finally score some dick for once, man, and I still can't actually keep up with Bart's and Suzie only has one when she's in the right mood and Rob's isn't even into me, and I don't wanna go knock over a civilian for it, that's just–" 

"And that'd be all the options for dick currently available to your picky ass, yeah," Slobo cuts in dryly, leaning in towards him with a pointed look. Kon turns red. 

"Actually I kinda figured you were straight too," he says, glancing sidelong at the guy. "And very solidly monogamous, given all the time that you and Anita spend ignoring the rest of us in favor of rooms with doors that lock." 

"We ain't monogamous, she just don't like gettin' interrupted when she's in the mood. Though yeah, you're right about the straight thing," Slobo agrees with a dismissive shrug. "But also, look, I'm Czarnian. Which literally none of you bastiches are. And gonna be frank here, you and Anita got a lot more biological similarities to each other than Anita and a Czarnian chick would, so at this point I don't really give a shit what kind of hole I'm fraggin' so long as whoever it belongs to's got somethin' interestin' to say about the process." 

"Huh," Kon says, frowning to himself. "That literally never occurred to me as a thing that might be a thing, actually." 

"I mean, what, are you attracted to Branx and Bolovax Vikians and Karnans and Martians?" Slobo snorts dubiously. "Or frell, even Czarnians?" 

"Well, just the ones I like, but yeah," Kon says, a little puzzled by the question. They're all sentient species with free will and also he would absolutely let that one very specific Green Lantern just fucking step on him whenever the guy felt like it, so yeah, why wouldn't he be attracted to them? And . . . Kilowog, he's pretty sure said Green Lantern's name is? Kilowog's built like what a brick house wishes it could grow up and be. So Kon would definitely let him step on him. "Is that like . . . weird or something?" 

"Galactically speakin', yeah," Slobo says wryly. "Though I guess you're already a hybrid so I probably shoulda expected you to be less discriminatin' than the rest of the universe tends to." 

"So what, are you calling me a slut?" Kon snorts. "Like on a genetic level?" 

"Depends how many people you've screwed, galactically speakin'," Slobo says. 

"Not enough," Kon replies frankly. 

"Then yeah, pretty sure you're a slut," Slobo says with another shrug. "Especially if you miss dick bad enough to get in a snit on the couch over it." 

". . . I mean, okay, I haven't actually socialized with another dude's dick before," Kon admits grudgingly, making a face. "Unless watching gay porn counts, and to be honest I usually get bored if there's only one style of genitals onscreen so I don't do much of that. Just I just finally figured out that I fucking want dick and my options for getting it are frustratingly limited right now." 

"Then wanna actually socialize with mine?" Slobo suggests, which is an approach that Kon appreciates the straightforwardness of. "Seein' as it don't belong to a picky control freak or a hyperactive speedster or someone with a real fraggin' inconvenient tendency to turn intangible when they come." 

"Suzie does that?" Kon asks. 

"Accordin' to Anita," Slobo replies with a shrug. "And since I trust her with my literal fraggin' life at this point, I'm assumin' this ain't the thing she's picked to lie to me over." 

"Huh," Kon says. "Weird, but noted for future reference. And yeah, fuck it, let's socialize. Room with a lock, or . . . ?" 

"Naw, give Wonder Girl the chance to walk in on us, she wants to see your indestructible ass get wrecked real bad," Slobo says with a smirk, then sticks with that straightforward approach that Kon so rightly appreciates and immediately yanks his belt open and whips his dick out right there on the couch. It is not remotely proportionate to his build, and Kon definitely means that as a compliment. 

"Oh, is that the plan here?" Kon says, as someone whose mouth just went dry and who would also admittedly like to see his indestructible ass get wrecked for once. Like, that's a thing he'd like to get to do before he dies, that's all. 

"Damn right it is," Slobo says, smirking wider at him and giving his cock a meaningful squeeze. Kon glances down at it speculatively, wondering exactly how Czarnians fuck. Said cock is currently actively rising to the occasion, and also getting increasingly disproportionate to Slobo's build. 

Like. Very increasingly. 

Damn. 

"What'dya think? Wanna come on it, bastich?" Slobo asks with a leering grin and a very unsubtle tug. Kon flicks his eyes back to his face and just eyes him. 

. . . then he eyes his dick. 

It's actually, like, a very appealing dick. It might be a little smaller than Kon's own is, he thinks, but it's definitely comparable and still plenty damn big either way, all long and thick and heavy-looking, and it's got, like . . . ridges. Bumps. Textures. Like, Bad Dragon wishes it could design such a dick. 

. . . Jesus, actually, is that a knot at the base? And–

Oh. Okay. 

"Is your dick prehensile," Kon asks, officially just staring at it. 

It waves at him. 

"Is it?" Slobo asks with a smirk. 

"Fuck," Kon says as a downright vicious stab of arousal goes through his gut, and then he very suddenly feels very weird. Slobo cocks his head, looking surprised. 

Kon looks down at himself, because again, he feels weird. "Himself" is not there to be looked at. 

Well, like, it is. Just not in very . . . "him"-type fashion. 

"Huh," Kon says to the very nice pair of tits currently sitting all cute and perky under his S-shield. He blinks in absolute bemusement, and Slobo's expression lights up hungrily. 

"Shit, you really do like me, huh," he says, letting go of himself and reaching out to put his hands around Kon's suddenly very, very narrow waist. Like . . . way too far around, actually. That's . . . an experience. Wow. "Never had Kryptonian pussy before." 

Yeah, well, you're not the only one, Kon thinks only slightly hysterically.

"You can't get knocked up 'til you go through a full cycle, right, so can I stick it in raw?" Slobo asks like this is all just perfectly normal, which admittedly for all Kon knows about Slobo's life experience and alien biology in general it could in fact be. He thinks of several thousand reasons to say no, but given both who he is as a person and also how bad he really, really wants to finally score some dick for once . . .

"Yeah," he says, then half-reflexively flicks his eyes back down to Slobo's cock and licks his lips. Slobo grins. 

"Nice," he says. 

Anyway, Kon's suit lasts about five seconds after that. Which–it doesn't fit him quite right at the moment anyway, so it's whatever. It's very weird to see tits and ass and a statistically improbable amount of curves when he looks down at himself, but it's weirder feeling Slobo's hands and mouth roaming greedily all over said statistical improbabilities as the other pushes him down against the cushions. The prick hasn't even kissed him, which: rude much? 

Not that Kon's really complaining, because if he wanted "polite" that bad he wouldn't be socializing with Slobo at all, much less his dick, and Slobo is currently making his way down his body and clearly on a mission to kiss him somewhere. 

So yeah, the "weird" feelings are very rapidly losing out to the "holy shit, do that again" feelings. 

"Holy shit, do that again," Kon says. Slobo grins sharply up at him and then Kon meets his clit and his clit meets Slobo's very eager tongue and anyway Kon now officially and intimately understands why people who've got one bitch so damn much when a partner ignores it. Like wow, does he ever. "Ohhhhh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god–!" 

So that's pretty distracting, for at least a couple minutes there. 

Not that Kon's brain is in any condition to be noticing the passage of time right now. 

"Frag, you're already dripping. Wanna get off on my tongue a few times or just get straight to the main attraction?" Slobo asks as he hooks his hands around Kon's currently statistically improbable and also badly shaking thighs and licks his own very slick and shiny lips. Kon remembers the sight of the guy's big fat disproportionate dick very, very vividly, then immediately spreads his thighs as far as he can without the back of the couch interfering. 

Possibly he damages said back of the couch just a little bit in the process. 

Like, just barely. 

"Main attraction," he says firmly. Slobo grins at him again. 

"Damn, rolling out the red carpet here, ain't we," he says. "Gonna make a guy feel downright appreciated like this." 

"Put your dick in me right the fuck now or I will put you through the fucking wall, asshole," Kon threatens, and of course it's Slobo, so he just grins all the wider. 

"Fraggin' flirt," he says with obvious approval. 

Then he puts his dick in him. 

Kon's vision very literally whites out at the way Slobo feels sliding into him so big and hard and big and deep and big and good and he jerks up instinctively underneath him and makes some really, really undignified noises as his body seizes up. The couch might suffer a little more damage. Kon doesn't give the slightest bit of a fuck. 

"Holy shit, did you just fraggin' come?" Slobo asks in obvious delight. 

"Shut the fuck up," Kon barely gets out past the aftershocks making his whole damn body twitch and tremble under Slobo's, and Slobo laughs and sort of . . . rolls his hips, kind of, and Kon moans. 

"Shit, you're tight," Slobo says, sounding approving again, and this time in a way that makes Kon shudder even harder than he already is. "And soaked. Feels like I just stuck it in somebody's sloppy seconds. What do you think, bastich, want the whole thing in your snatch? Think you can take it?" 

"Yes," Kon chokes desperately, and Slobo does the only gentlemanly thing that Kon has ever seen him do, which is immediately just thrust into him balls deep. 

That is definitely a knot, yeah, Kon notes. 

And definitely Slobo's dick is prehensile. 

The literal only reason that Kon doesn't fucking scream is because they're in a building full of active superheroes and god fucking forbid somebody come and "save" him right now. Like, Cassie can watch if she really is into that, but if anybody in any way tries to fucking interrupt he is gonna straight up just become a supervillain. 

Unless it's a supervillain interrupting, he guesses, in which case he's just gonna take a page out of Wonder Woman's book and give them the Maxwell Lord special. 

Either way, he emphasizes deeply with Anita and her locked doors. 

Real deeply.

#kon el #slobo #superboy #not sfw #anonymous #rinfic #wip: gender? I hardly know her!!

[thereadersmuse]

Why would the whores talk about Pen? Be for real, they wouldn’t know she exists

Your ask was close to being deleted and not answered at all due to your condescending language towards sex workers. But, considering the age of many fans in this fandom I have decided that taking time to answer this ask could serve as a platform for education rather than promoting ignorance. Because I am sure you didn't mean to sound as rude as you came across.

Sex work is work. And so far, all the male leads have used a sex workers services numerous times during the show. Colin doing the same is not special nor surprising, especially considering the time period. Calling sex workers 'whores' is derogatory and overall uncalled for. It shows what you think of the character of these women who are using their bodies to earn a decent wage - especially in a time period where the options for female labor were limited to serving roles and back breaking labor, all of which did not pay well. Women in this time period who were not of noble birth did not have a lot of options. They also did not always have the protection of male relations for monetary support or future prospects. They had to make their own way and provide for themselves and their future.

Sex work is one of mankind's oldest professions. Women and men have been doing it since the start of time. And if that is someone's choice (and they are not being taken advantage of or trafficked) that is that. It is not my journey, but I can respect their choice.

To close, your ask was in response to a post I made yesterday about a fictional tv show, so we are all being hypothetical here. But the sex workers in question can probably read and are very likely plugged into the ton's Gossip. They work in an industry where they have access to men of all stations and people talk when they are in an intimate setting. They also likely know the serving staff at the party. That is just a few examples. So why wouldn't they know about the latest tea? I could absolutely see them all in the afterglow, talking about how Miss Penelope Featherington took everyone by surprise at the last ball with her gorgeous dress. Meanwhile Colin is staring at the ceiling going-

#anon ask #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin

[beaconfeels]

WIP Wednesday

Nobody tagged me but I felt like sharing something this week. I think most of the people I tag in this sort of thing have already been tagged this week, but if you see this and want to share, please say I tagged you! More from my Steter runs away fic. The plot thickens.

”So I took pictures, and researched, and I became convinced that this family had a stolen artwork just hanging out in their wine cellar. Long story short, I took the painting. It was easy, really. They weren’t werewolves, and they threw a lot of parties where security was lax. I suppose they thought nobody would notice the painting, or think it was real if they did. Just like that, it was mine.”

Peter smiles at the memory, and Stiles shakes his head. Smiling too.

“How’d you get rid of it? I read that it’s often when people are trying to sell stolen artwork that they get caught.”

“Exactly. It took me about a year to find a suitable buyer, by which I mean someone unscrupulous enough to buy it, and one who I had enough dirt that they wouldn’t rat me out to anyone given the chance.”

“Of course,” Stiles says, laughing. “So you were always this devious, huh?”

Peter shrugs. “Some of us are born to deviousness, some of us have it thrust upon them. I was born to it. You seem like the thrust upon type to me,” he adds.

“Maybe,” Stiles admits with a smile. “So who’d you sell it to?”

“A pack in Colorado. The alpha had an obsession with art, and they were so sure of their power that they left a nice paper trail for a lot of things that the DA would have loved to get her hands on. I drove it over to them on spring break, and walked away with more cash than I could have imagined when I started dreaming about building my own wealth.”

“How much?”

“Two million. Which was a fraction of what the painting was worth, but that’s how it can go when you’re selling stolen goods, and my options were limited at the time.”

“Wasn’t there a reward out for the painting? I thought a lot of famous stolen ones are worth millions if you can find them.”

“On that particular painting the reward was only a half million more than what I was paid for it, and it wouldn’t have been worth it even if it was three times as much. All the red tape, the questions, the wait for the money, if it ever came through. Even if it had all gone smoothly, my pack would have known I had money, and I didn’t want them to.”

Stiles leans forward, his interest piqued even further. “Why not?”

Peter has always liked this about Stiles, the way he is so curious about werewolves in every aspect, from how their bodies work, to how packs function. Even given the very limited accurate information available on the internet and through a reticent Derek, Stiles had figured out how to help Scott control his wolf. If only everyone involved had been as curious and intelligent as Stiles, everything could have gone very differently. But that was a regret for another time.

“Because traditional packs are very communal. What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine, that kind of thing.”

Stiles wrinkles his nose in distaste. Peter couldn’t agree more.

“Even though in my pack that still meant plenty to go around, like I said, it still meant nothing was really yours. Any money you earned went to build pack wealth, and that meant only a couple people in power got to decide who had access to what, and how much. They would have forced me to hand that money over, and had I wanted to go live on my own, they would have refused to help me. The pack is stronger together, blah blah blah.”

“That’s fucked up,” Stiles says. “That’s like, cult level shit.”

“It can be, when the power is abused. And as you know, power is often abused.”

“You said ‘traditional packs,’ does that mean not all packs do that now?”

“There are thankfully many packs who recognize how dangerous it is to live like that, how harmful it can be to someone stuck in a bad situation. Many have abandoned it, but unfortunately many of the most powerful and influential packs still live like that.”

“Gross,” Stiles says. “So what happened after you sold the painting?”

#steter fic #steter #wip #my writing #having fun with this one #whilst also being very out of my depth ha! #I’m not the best at plot #but actual things besides falling in love are gonna happen in this fic #help

[sminiac]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡— Homesick | 02. Uncertainties

⋆ xikers Hyung-Line + Choreographer!Reader

Synopsis — Signing a fixed term-contract with KQ Ent. Comes with a promise of more opportunities and exposure for your work. You hustle to exceed your own limitations by creating choreography for xikers next comeback as requested, the only problem is you’ve never been this far away from home before, and with hard work comes burnouts in hand. Fortunately, the form of comfort closest to you is the five oldest of the group.

Warnings — Confrontation, lil bit of arguing… :b

➪ Series Master-list

“No you’re definitely an idiot for that.”

Mingi’s hunched over the stovetop, laughing unabashedly to himself as he glides the thick cut of steak around the bath of melted butter and herbs that the cast iron skillet holds, so distracted that he doesn’t feel the sharp narrow of your eyes puncturing at the back of his head, not necessarily finding the same humour in your situation that has him snorting so loud you can hear it over the hot crackling sound in front of him.

Another week added to your tally of three, and the Minjae situation was still biting you in the ass.

Slumping further into your own pity-party thrown at the sleek island that overlooks the entirety of his kitchen you can feel the heat continually rise throughout your face the more details you drop, you can’t place where it comes from exactly, but there’s one too many options that shouldn’t be there.

“But it wasn’t just me, that’s the issue here Big-head-gi! It just… feels like I’m the one cushioning our fall even though it was a conjoint effort.”

You like Minjae, at least the most any sane person in your place would, but the more you questioned why you played along to begin with the harder it becomes to understand.

Breaking and chipping away at your problems was never an issue back home, but neither was becoming intimate with clients, during work hours nonetheless, but to dig and ponder was deemed excessive due to your profound understanding of self, close friends had mentioned it being both a ‘blessing and a curse’ but you never understood what they meant by curse until now.

The more you search, the more incoherent and foolish the explanations become, almost stagnant. It’s hard to say that you wish to be back home, in your bedroom, when you’re quite literally doing something so many people can only dream of, but the comfort of your bed, your family, seemed far more welcoming than whatever this is now.

Mingi was obviously not your first pick for help, but your people get so caught up in life, different time zones, scheduled events clashing head on even with so much preparation, which is why you’re sat on an uncomfortable chair that’s more for aesthetics than it is for practicality as he cooks up his post-gym meal instead of lounging on his ridiculously nice couch together and talking about life like usual.

When you’d first seen the massive thing that took up most of his living space you immediately thought of how stupid the purchase was, completely neglecting the fact that he’s an idol, which means he has idol money.

The place is big enough for there to be some distance put between the two of you for privacy reasons, even more with how frequently he’s over at Yunho’s, sometimes it makes you wonder why the two men didn’t just move in together, but it gave you a roof over your head and a good decompressing conversation or two whenever he popped in so it wasn’t your biggest concern.

When the rules had been laid out for better functionality and use of his place Mingi may have been a little stressed, it had been a long time since he’s been in contact with you, or even seen you in person and not just in clips of your dance classes posted to instagram, and people change, luckily though, things quickly became familiar again the more you interacted, by the day it feels like the two of you are bonding more and more over the beginning stages of your careers and how intertwined they were.

Mingi’s laughter eases out, the faint wash of sound from the movie he put on makes its way into the air along with the fragrant smell of the sirloin that’s washed in another round of butter that he spoons over it, you can tell he’s not completely used to living by himself after having seven roommates for years, but he’s older now, you are too, maybe it’s just something you have to get used to.

He impatiently shifts his weight from one foot to his other during his finishing motions over the heat of the orange grates, softly hissing to himself as he attempts to stretch through the tender pull of his muscles.

His large shoulders pitch up, redirecting your attention back to him, as if you can see his face his lips purse to really highlight his cluelessness. “Well what are the boys saying about you now? Not anything mean, right?” He catches you off guard with that one since you left the room without a minute to waste once quit time was called, it was impossible to continue to hang around like the guys asked you to knowing what Hyunwoo saw, and the invites to join them during their breaks continued to be declined.

Mingi’s shameless when it comes to how quickly he stresses for you, he finds that it’s unavoidable, innate, who else will worry for you here if he doesn’t? Especially from the silence he’s met with when placing the skillet down and turning the heat off before turning around to face you, you sit there with a blank stare at the shiny surface of his marble countertop, the nail of your thumb repeatedly pokes into your bottom lip whilst internally trying to fish out any convincing reason as to why you don’t know.

The skins red, irritated from how blunt it is.

“Y/n—”

“Do you think they’re saying bad things about me?” You blurt out, your hand pulling away.

His brows settle into the centre of his face, a puppy-like tilt to his head at the failure to grasp what you’re trying to say. He rests back against the counter, pretty much sitting on top of it due to his luck with genetics, a look on his face that urges you to keep talking.

“Well, Hyunwoo didn’t seem like he was going to tell any higher ups from the way he was talking, but he could’ve very well told the rest of the guys.” You explain.

“That’s probably not—”

“If he told them won’t they start acting weird around me? ‘Oh there’s our choreographer who’s supposed to help us improve for our next album that also made out with our leader and got caught like an idiot’ how do i answer to that? How does anyone?”

Mingi allows you to keep rambling, feeding into your own worries, pulling at completely nonsensical possibilities one after the other. He doesn’t know Choi Hyunwoo very well, or really at all, the most he knows is his birthday, his hometown, his face and a really niche fact about him that no one else can say from the top of their head, but that’s only because he does that for everyone he knows. What he’s sure of though, absolutely certain of, is that Hyunwoo would not out you to their CEO or any person of control over your stay in Korea, so he lets you go on and on and on until there’s nothing left to say.

By the time there’s a little left to say and not even a vague idea of how to say it his serving of steak and white rice are polished off, even having so much time to prepare two hot cups of tea for you and himself. He gently places the cup down in front of you with a closed-mouth smile, one that resembles a dreadfully sympathetic mom. “I don’t know if you’ll take my advice into consideration since you’re really dramatic, yet still so self aware? like to the point where it’s kind of annoying, but it doesn’t seem like you’re invested in him romantically, so a little kissing won’t do you any harm.”

You take in what he has to say because the thought of turning it away and shielding his words with your back wasn’t fair. Your hand raises up over your eyes, pauses, and then drops over the bridge of your nose with an irritated whine as your eyes squeeze shut to keep the frustrated tears from rolling down your face. “What kind of advice is that? You guys are idol’s ‘gi, it does do harm, an unbelievable amount of harm!” It’s easy to be careless, but the aftermath never exactly came with a big warning sign.

A deep hum clears from his chest, sipping slightly at his cup before he places it beside yours with a fleeting grimace at the bitterness covering his tongue.

“Okay, well, you didn’t let me finish? but i literally mean it won’t do you any harm. Minjae’s getting intimate with you which means he likes you, he’s Hyunwoo’s hyung, and Hyunwoo’s a big softy for his members. All I’m saying is he wouldn’t take you out of the picture when you’re making Minjae act the way he does.” There’s another sip from his cup, it’s small, and then he pulls it away from his mouth before contemplating about continuing to drink it until he’s knocking back the cup and drinking down as much as he can. Hongjoong did say that it’s effects were much better than the taste.

“Which is?” You ask.

“Stupid, obviously, but happy. You’re in the clear Y/n, especially if the choreo you’re working on for them is as sick as I hear it is. They want to excel on stage? You’re their best bet.”

Okay, maybe confiding in Mingi wasn’t a total lost cause. Shockingly enough, he had quite a lot to add on to his unintentional —but very much needed— confidence boost, by the end of it he helped you realize that you weren’t actually on the cusp of being kicked out of his apartment by KQ, going dead broke, and your contract being prematurely terminated all at once.

The only issue you had stood with the youngest of the five, and how you’d reconcile over a problem that wasn’t personal in the slightest? You don’t know, and your hardheadedness never made for an easy agreement.

That was where Mingi’s helpfulness started falling short, it also made him consider writing down every tidbit about his juniors that he can from now on.

The most he could proffer to you was keep the courage flowing, but the illusion of self-confidence didn’t quite convey with the strength and intensity you intended to achieve in such little time, or else Junmin wouldn’t be choking back his nerves whilst asking: “Are- uh, are you okay?” As he pokes gently into the side of your arm. He doesn’t talk loudly, fearing it may be out of turn, but he struggles with pushing his concern aside when you look so wrapped up in your head, he wonders if maybe it’s just his age shining through because he can’t convince himself entirely that it’s none of his business when you look so troubled.

He knows that you aren’t the loudest in the group which he’s sure is because of how fresh you are to the industry, albeit second-handedly from what he knows, but you aren’t as silent as a mouse either, this is where he starts to become unsure, but if he were to guess it’s because of how frequently you worked with different people who strive for the same level of talent you exude as to why you’re able to maintain a surface level relationship with your students but lack a little in connecting on a person level.

It shouldn’t be looked into that deep, he almost thinks it’s an invasion of privacy, but he just can’t shake the ephemeral interactions you had with him or the guys, how cute he thinks you act even if it’s through a detail lacking description from his members. Still, the smile you greeted them with when walking into their dorm strained your cheeks, he could see the way they twitched, struggling to uphold the expression; it was right then when he knew something about your day had shifted your mood completely before agreeing to come over for dinner, another thing that nagged at him was the timeframe between both your absence and your return wasn’t very long, and from what he knows you don’t have many friends around the area, wherever you’re staying, or maybe even in general.

He’s pushing it, and you remain unmoving for a minute longer, eyes on the tv, so still that he wonders if you even heard him. He tries to keep a neutral face as he scoots closer to you so no-one behind the two of you can see his face from the couch, but Minjae’s too alert for his own good that his eyes pull from the bickering taking place adjacent of him and redirects a little too quickly to the back of your head. Originally he just wanted to see your reaction to the silly argument, but his smile flattens seeing the way Junmin’s mouth opens but no sound comes out from how quickly you look over to him.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m good.” You say, your lips purse as you smile again. To Junmin it’s anything but a genuine answer because it’s the same exact look that you had when walking in, to Minjae it’s an approach to cracking the shell you seem to put yourself back in every time you aren’t performing.

Junmin’s heartbeat is so fast that it vibrates throughout his whole chest, he never was the best for small talk, but he nods, clearing you to look away as he eyes your knee that his hand is close to, his own knee even closer that whenever you move it bumps into him. If he was to offer a comforting touch would you allow it? He can’t bring himself to ask in fear of being laughed at.. but you always touched them when adjusting their posture during practice, telling them it was fine, that they were doing good, would it be fine if he did the same, what would the difference be?

A warmth of body heat that isn’t your own covers the inside of your leg, just under your knee.

You look down at his hand as it unsteadily almost hovers over you due to how unsure he is.

Junmin’s never tried harder in his life to keep a dorky grin from getting the best of him when you silently grab at him, digging under the tips of his fingers and running against his skin until they’re resting in the empty space, tugging him closer into your side so your hands can rest comfortably between your legs. He likes it, not having an emptiness there, your fingers fit so perfectly with his and you’re actually holding it back, there’s a grip and not a flimsy, forced endurance of his affection.

All he can really hope for is that you’re finding some kind of distraction, or at the very least a bit of relief from your fret.

Minjae watches the both of you like a hawk, making sure Junmin doesn’t push into things too fast, that you’re deciding things for yourself and not the enjoyment of others.

Trying to subtly get a better angle he unknowingly adjusts himself directly into Yechan’s personal space, the closer his head inches the more possible it becomes to knock directly into the youngest. Yechan tries to further lean his way out, but the arm rest keeps him locked in the small space.

“Okay!” He shouts, moving swiftly he leans his weight onto the couch and swings his feet up and over to meet the floor. He does a little spin as he pushes himself up, one that’s flashy enough to catch everyone’s attention and startle Minjae out from his trance. “the longer I sit here the hungrier I’m getting, so… time to eat?” His thumb juts out pointing back towards the kitchen.

Hyunwoo doesn’t take long before he nods silently from the crowd, hoping to separate himself from the angel on his shoulder and its bothersome nag about his morals and the unfair treatment you’re receiving. He can’t continue to let himself dwell on the complicated situation for much longer, one that continues to gain momentum by the way Junmin rests his head on top of yours or he knows his mouth will start running away from him in minutes.

This wasn’t a matter for his youngest members to concern themselves with. You are adults, after all. He steps over legs and feet, brushing past Yechan without a word as he makes his way out of the area. The youngest nods, smiling until the corners of his eyes crease, “Any requests?” He asks.

Hyunwoo moves instantly to busy himself once he’s away from everyone. Usually in instances where there’s a few people from the group who have to fulfil a task away from the rest he’d opt to take the least physically demanding job, Minjae clocks this as soon as he walks away without a complaint or at least a half-assed excuse. To anyone else it might be normal, or they’re dismissing it with the justification of having a guest over, but he knows.

He remembers how many times Hyunwoo would offer up one of the youngest five to take on his role just so he wouldn’t have to, but today he’s not so persistent.

“I’ll—”

“I’ll help too!” You squeeze twice at Junmin’s hand before your grip starts to loosen and you’re shifting yourself to stand up, it takes him a second to let you go, a big part of him doesn’t even want to, but before he can make a decision your feet are already pulling you away. His hold on you lingers until the distance pulls you apart, and only when you’re walking away does he realize that everyone around him most likely saw his fingers fit snugly between yours and how badly he wanted to keep holding onto you.

“You can stay, Yechan. I have Hyunwoo, I need to talk to him anyways.” Your hand brushes against his forearm as you pass by, a small reassuring gesture that’s topped with a smile, only hoping that if you really needed the help that Hyunwoo wouldn’t be an asshole about it.

He’s quick to decline, spinning on his heel. “No it’s okay, I don’t want you t—”

“It is okay, go sit please, then we’ll eat and get to the details about the choreography you guys wanted to discuss.”

Soft. That’s how Sumin would describe the guys whenever you’re around, so he isn’t completely surprised that Yechan gives in so easily to your request of leaving it to you. He has his moments of quietude amidst the yelling and the biting, there’s always something going on whether it’s himself starting up or someone else— always something to pick apart when he feels like it.

The one thing he can’t quite understand is why you’re so reduced in character when it comes to Hyunwoo’s presence as of late, and he literally means as of late. The whole time you’ve been in the room with them you seem to shrink whenever you hear Hyunwoo’s voice, it’s like he intimidates you back into a thin shell of yourself instead of being fully present. You’re watered down and pliable to the touch, he doesn’t like it, he wants you to be loud, wants you to take up space and assert your place in the midst of nine. And if not all, then at the very least him and his older members will break you out from those encasing traits that keep you palatable and meek, he hopes, it would be much easier if it were only a casual hangout and not work oriented.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth as soon as Hyunwoo hears your feet padding up to the counter, the unfamiliar weight to them against the floor. You don’t walk like you dance. He barely got full look at you before sighing and then promptly turning his back towards you again.

It’s not always the easiest being nice to someone who you can’t say fully deserves it, and the feeling is unfortunately, incredibly mutual.

Your courage is baseless as you make your way to the left of his side, but your actions don’t relay to that.

“We’re figuring this out.” You say flatly, your nerves have your voice dropping, but he mistakes it as confidence slipping in, it makes him snicker knowing exactly what you mean, ‘what can I do that’ll make you stop treating me like the villain?’ but it’s hard to even have an idea of what your punishment could be when his own confidence was never built on a foundation that could outlast your torrential downpour, he never expected it to drag out for this long.

His resentment was as lukewarm as it could get, seeing you and Minjae was like a light scratch at his skin, but the more you acted on his own judgment the deeper the wound digs.

Couldn’t you think for yourself?

“There’s nothing to figure out.” His eyes are absent, there’s no weight to what he says, if he really meant it couldn’t he at least look you in the eye while saying it?

You stand there puzzled as he dismissively works his way around the room, opening drawers and fetching supplies before closing them and moving to the next. “Okay,” you say. “then can you stop acting weird around me?”

The vehemence of your desperation is hard to tiptoe around, Hyunwoo’s never quite experienced enmity with someone else like this before, sure maybe a handful of times where his members mistakenly stole a few of his snacks or finished off his shampoo, but nothing ever escalated past a few glares.

“That’s kind of hard to do.” He mutters whilst moving to the fridge, pulling it open and searching for whatever it is he needs.

“Why? You’re not communicating with me at all here.” You say. “And I’m tired of having to brush off your spiteful jabs at me during practice like it’s nothing, I’m only here to help you become more in tune with your body.”

“Are you sure?”

The way he talks is as if he’s already gotten to your answers before you could even break that far in yourself, it’s infuriating.

“Among other things, yes. Other things that aren’t your business.”

“I think you’re naive.” He says.

“I’m starting to think your awful attitude isn’t just because of what I did.”

The sound of the fridge door being slammed shut makes you jump. Hyunwoo turns, his front now facing towards you for the first time since you walked in.

If there was no reliable conviction in his aversion towards you, there certainly is now.

“Am I right? Maybe you’re… getting jealous, that you aren’t getting as much attention from me compared to Junmin, or even Sumin.” There’s no time to let the nerves swallow you whole now, not when it’s the first time in days where you’ve felt so confident about yourself, and Hyunwoo isn’t running away yet, you assumed he’d be hightailing it out of here if you were wrong, but he can’t do much other than stand there as you make your way closer.

His fingers flex at his sides, anxiously swallowing down your every word, and the tone of voice you speak in that he’s never heard before.

“Don’t bring up what you were doing in that room again, I can’t—” he tries to look away, but you’re already so close that your fingers draw him right back, and he follows your guidance so easily, just like when you’re helping him on a move he can’t quite understand.

“You can’t, what?”

His tongue wets at his lips as his eyes find yours, in a proximity that’s new to him he’s shaken by not knowing where to exactly look.

Your expression softens as your thumb runs against his cheekbone. “Hyunwoo. Can’t what?” You ask again.

“Can’t stop thinking about you like that.”

🛫 Chapter 3 ⟢ …

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