#like for sure there is some resentment there. its present in the show and totally understandable

[charmallows]

i've seen a lot of takes on fantube family and i agree with just about every take on them in some aspect be it positive or negative but as an avid fantube family enjoyer my defense is that they're just really funny. fan and test tube care So much but they're horrible parents. they could never actually raise a kid and thank god they didn't Have to raise bot. bot's got their own thing going on. it's just that their mom and dad are there too being so supportive like they're at their kid's soccer game

[simplyreveries]

when they're pining; dorm leaders!

riddle rosehearts

becomes an absolute sucker and hates it but loves it at the same time. like he's wondering why he's doing all these things and going out of his way for your approval he'll be frustrated with himself but once he sees you smiling the slightest at him, he's a fool and forgets what he was ever upset about in the first place.

you get the best treatment whenever you're at his dorm, heartslabyul. the dormmates hate seeing it, the only perks they get is that riddle will be somewhat lenient with them whenever you're around. his attention will usually be strictly focused on you anyway.

whenever he catches you walking to school or just around campus, he'll try to always find some sort of opportunity to stick around you. He doesn't even actively plan on how it just happens and ends up finding something to do with you. He loves making small attempts to tidy your uniform, so he can graze your shoulder something. he'll always scold you and claim he's helping you be more presentable and proper.

trey and cater 100% know about his little (big) infatuation with you and think its sweet. with cater he hates because he's always teasing riddle in front of you and making oh-so obvious attempts at getting you two together whereas trey is more subtle about it.

whenever he has a class with you, he tries to impress you with his knowledge and intelligence. He feels so proud and smug whenever he answers a difficult question with ease. But he just looks like a total nerd.

he reads books upon books of love and romance, trying to figure out what would charm and woo you. but he ends up only making himself a flushed embarrassed mess while reading nevertheless he continues.

leona kingscholar

sigh

this guy... would be way too stubborn to admit to himself that he's caught feelings for you. At the same time, I think he's so not used to anything romantic that he doesn't even fully realize he does. Like sure he thinks you're annoying as hell and tell you not to bother him but if you actually do end up leaving him alone, he'll be like?? tf?

he prompts to just silently listening to you as you talk or observe what you're doing. it may seem like he's not paying attention, his eyes are usually closed or he's looking down inspecting the chess board as you two play but trust me he really is. Like actually remembers everything. a little frightening.

lowkey lurks around you a lot of the time, also no one really want to come around you when he's right there and he's perfectly content with that since leonas such a little bastard when it comes to jealousy.

ruggie asks you a lot to come to magishift practice so that there's a high chance that leona will actually participate if he finds out you'll be there.

he enjoys it when you show interest in his homelands. though he resents his brother and struggles with his royal family-- the culture and history are something he's very keen on and will share if you ask.

azul ashengrotto

this man's attempt at pulling you are so bad its funny. He thinks he's mr smooth know it all but he's a total mess. he keeps a good facade ill give him that but he's dying inside around you because he doesn't want to look bad. it's upsetting but his own insecurities really do make it hard for him when it comes to his feelings.

he really doesn't know what to do when he feels so intensely about someone at first, he would just prompt to doing what he always does by trying to find some way to get you into a contract... despite knowing at this point you know way better and give him this confused deadpanned look.

He didn't really want the twins particularly knowing how he feels but they could tell right away and think it's the funniest thing ever as he turns into a mess around you. azul did make a mistake of asking jade and floyd to try getting more information on you subtly but that ended up backfiring awfully when floyd went up to you saying stuff like "shrimpy~ whatcha doing after school today? azul wanted to know." he never fails to out azul EVERY time and thinks its so funny he'll be like "what? i did what you asked."

whenever hes alone in his office or something writing stuff he accidentally writes your name all the time. he also would write letters to you-- ones he'd never send and would die if someone read but its a way of getting out his thoughts and feelings. he becomes all smiley and sighing blissfully as he does. he really thinks about you all the time. he could be doing a scummy deal with some poor heartslabyul student and be smiling and thinking about what kind of necklace would look the prettiest on you.

growing up in the sea his whole life, human-land courting and navigating romance out of the ocean is difficult as he sometimes accidently may revert to his own kinds ways. though he does make sure to do his own personal research on what to do.

kalim al-asim

everyone including yourself knows just how much he's in love with you. he has zero qualms expressing it to you the moment he realizes that he does. kalim literally talks about you all the time, im sure jamil is positively tired of it by now. hes always like "oh! (name) said something so funny earlier-" or "that reminds me of when (name)...." you constantly live in his brain. jamil could be trying to help him study and do his schoolwork and he's laying on his stomach,,, head in hands,, kicking his legs and talking about you.

gives you so much... he wants to give you so many gifts and spoil you abundantly all the time and gets confused when you tell him that you don't really need most of them. he really cant help it he swears.

invites you to so many of his parties and feasts. he also finds any excuse to throw you one, like genuinely you could tell him that you passed a test by like 2 points and he'll immediately think that this is something thats needed to be celebrated right away.

of course, he takes you out on his magic carpet for rides all the time, it's a little nerve-wracking for the first couple of times but you get used to it and besides though he is energetic you can still feel relaxed enough around him because of how sweet and caring he is. he always tells you hes got you and means it!!

vil schoenheit

vil adores putting makeup or skincare on you obviously. he finds it so endearingly intimate, it's very calming too considering how soft he is, and you get free access to the best brands. he always smiles softly, and you may here faint humming from him from time to time as he does.

like riddle, he does make sure to smooth or fix your uniform for you whenever you're out at school, you could be talking to him, and he'll just adjust your ribbon for you and be like okay go on. honestly, it may be hard not to get nervous around him when even doing something as simple as having a conversation, the way he intently looks at you and slightly tilts his head in amusement. you have his attention always.

invites you to stay at pomefiore a lot, stay for some tea at least but that can turn into a long time since he intends to make it that way to be around you longer.

would actually be so flattered and would love it if you went out of your way to watch any sort of media he's been in. he pays attention to characters you liked the most out of him, just maybe so he could figure out your type more.

idia shroud

im sorry but he just reminds me of this audio

i feel like he lowkey stalks your socials because hes too awkward to talk to you. he definitely has some fake account though because he learned it the hard way when he liked an old photo of yours by accident and didn't leave his room for almost 3 days

during the beginning stages of his feelings for you at least, whenever he talked to you it's a quick mumble of something and he leaves, leaving you like ??? ortho comes up to you later and tells you what he said on his brother's behalf.

ortho is a big wingman for Idia, he's so supportive of you two it's so sweet. you genuinely bring out a not so gloomy side in his big brother and he loves you for that. he has to try less to convince him to stay in class! what if he misses a chance to look at you for five seconds in the hallway?

when does end up getting a little more comfortable around you, he does get very smug and even pretty overconfident if you were to compliment his tech skills, if you ever need something fixed or even specifically designed and made for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat. he loves it when you watch him do it too in curiosity, he feels so cool and smart, he just prays you don't see his hands shaking.

when you give him the slightest praise or validation, he'll be thinking about that for DAYS. he'll have this cheeky grin on his face too as he thinks about it.

malleus draconia

You're perfect to him and as soon as he mentions your name in the diasomnia dorm you better be prepared to be invited by Lilia all the time dorm as he sets you and malleus on totally-not obvious dates planned with him. But he really just enjoys your time together when walking outside at night, he enjoys sharing with you facts about nightly creatures and watching you as you look in awe.

malleus adores showing off a little with his magic, is it too hot? don't like all the heat?? boom he'll make it rain. make some pretty flowers bloom out of nowhere? easy. he does it literally all the time and finds your reactions amusing. you had to stop him though when he got caught up and almost did large thorns when he was talking about briar valley history.

wants to give you so many jewels and adorn you with so many necklaces and rings and such, it's a problem haha. malleus loves nothing more than seeing you wear any of them despite your claims of not needing them, he insists.

he never fails to refer to you most of the time as "child of man" barely even your own name. I mean you gave him a nickname so he may as well return it.

[expfcultragreen]

Basically what my previous post is circling around without saying is, everyone outside the matrix never got convinced of stuff like "theres no such thing as evil wizards trying to control you by telepathic manipulation" and everyone inside the matrix is so convinced that it for sure isn't real, that if you tell them "the shrinks KNOW sometimes it IS evil wizards but they have to adhere to the conspiracy narrative of that not being real otherwise evil wizards will target them, slash, their own evil wizard jig will be up" theyll just be annoyed and tell you to try more brain poison until you stop thinking that (or at all, really.... anything to keep the crushing mundane charade of the matrix intact)... anything that draws attention to the existentially threatening contradictions and incoherencies must be neutralized and ignored, yknow, "or else" 🙄

the systemic brutalization of people with psychoses is a manifestation of the "sane" mind hiding from the truth; a complex and dauntingly weird reality in which not all delusions are delusions and not all symptoms originate within (or indicate bad character on the part of) the person describing/presenting them

Like the "or else" is, everyone goes bonkers over who exactly is doing magic and what exactly theyve done with it and we get back into stupid bullshit like killing people accused of witchcraft. Ok but how much worse is that vs what we've BEEN doing where still theres no trial, people get wellness checked or sectioned on heresay and if they survive that (big if, cops often just get disgusted and kill us on the spot) theyre put on drugs that might make them suicidal, plus we've decided to insist without evidence that none of the reality-bending stuff people have experienced and been convinced of "symptomatic" "magical beliefs" by actually happened or if it did each impossible thing must have simply.... been possible actually like, everything is always "a coincidence"...if some dude walked on water in front of them theyd insist it was a hoax, or that the water coincidentally froze and unfroze right under him for totally natural unknown reasons that have nothing to do with magic

Like imagine for a second that, as usual, the matrix (aka civ, imperial capitalist hegemony, etc) is full of shit, built on lies, etc. And so, as everyone everywhere always knew, supernatural things happen all the time, but, in the matrix, most people are so afraid to acknowledge it due to the risk of sanction, pathologization, etc, that they maybe don't even consciously experience/process/form memory of a lot of it (let alone report it to loved ones and cashiers alike as tho theyre mulder having a hot flash).......and/or maybe supernatural forces actually avoid nonbelievers (ie people who aren't psychologically compatible with the bizarre)....but regardless, the matrix is this hotbed of anti-supernatural unreality, and if you get too hung up on that issue due to concrete personal experience, whether youve attracted abuse from people gaming the denialism system or are just spiraling on your own from the sheer volume of bullshit spackle, people (everyone) will tell you youre upsetting them, that you need to stop, that you should eat brain-shrinking potions until youre "normal", etc........

I look at the rewards for doing that and they seem hollow, plus the process itself is degrading. So much about life in the matrix is hollow and/or degrading...for some people (conservatives, the fash) that shit is their gospel, thats what they live for....the hollowness is soothing to them in its vacuum of substancelessness, and they actually enjoy being agents of degredation, it feels like beating sense into the world or whatever, of asserting the made up order-rules they draw breath from in their cage (and bitterly resent people for flouting, both inside and outside the matrix)

Its easy to get that Truman Show feeling, in the matrix. But there's not much place to escape to, the matrix is nearly out of new territory in its viral creep around and across the globe.......the whole thing of it is, a lot of people could wake up, yknow, look around, take in the creepy human batteryfarm of it all, overwhelm the machines, etc. But if you cant offer better than tastywheat theyll crawl back into bed and dream of electric sheep hollow steak

The matrix represents the majority of humanity at this point, there's no door to run to, no one to fairly turn to...we would overwhelm anyplace or anyone, it all has to be done "in situ"...standing in place.....ignore the idea of gatekeepers asking you what your favourite linux distro is or which burning man was the best year or when you went zerowaste etc etc, the point isnt moving into subcultural space its moving on as a culture, from being a shitshow nightmare that people run from, hide within, or never wanted to join in the first place. Acknowledging and addressing why all that is just automatically a byproduct of the matrix in operation, would be useful; i suggest that the matrix was designed to benefit a small aristocracy of fucked up capitalists (ie evil kings and tycoons; antisocial rulers) and everyone else is just sort of fuel for them, and, some people imagine or even observe, living a better life in a freer world and then we struggle either with wanting to take steps toward it or with being fought for taking those steps. But a freer world isn't like, a personal choice you can just make in any meaningful way. Its a paradigm shift. An unhappy minority of people benefit from the current paradigm, and an even unhappier majority cant seem to figure out what we would do instead, or worse, they dont like the vibe of the proofs of concept, they like the truman show battery farm life, they like bologna. Theyre not trying to escape the pointless pain of being a shitty cog, they think life IS pain, they think cogdom is virtuous suffering and they want everyone to suffer with them

[attackfish]

more swamp bender korra? its such an interesting idea! it kind of reminds me of kyoshi

Continued from: [Link], [Link], [Link], and [Link].

1. A teacher always learns from their student, and the first thing Toph learns is that Korra is nothing at all like Aang. She's brash, and loud, and when Toph tells her that earthbending is about standing her ground, Korra plants her feet in the mud like they're going to grow roots. If Toph didn't know better, she would think that earth was the girl's native element. She picks up earthbending so quickly that it almost makes Toph wish she could see what Korra would have been like turned loose with some badger-moles. And she reminds Toph a lot more of a little girl who learned earthbending from badger-moles than she does of that girl's first student.

2. Korra presents a problem for Toph. Oh, don't get her wrong, Korra is a delight, and wonderful, and the best kind of trouble, which is to say the kind Toph can encourage and give ideas to, and then hand back to her parents so that they can deal with any resulting mess. But she also presents a problem. And that problem is that Toph ran away to the swamp to get away from the world and its demands. So what does the universe do? It sends her the Avatar, a child, who by the simple fact that she is the Avatar, brings the world with her.

3. And Toph is no idiot. She knows a blatant sign from the universe when she sees one. The universe wants her to stop skulking around in a swamp, so the universe sent the freaking Avatar to her, along with parents telling her that nobody outside the swamp believed them when they told them their daughter was the Avatar. Toph resents this. She wants to be clear about that. She resents the universe interfering in her business in this way. And it's not like she's ever been inclined to want to do what she's supposed to, or what other people think she should do, and this just makes her want to do it even less. So she's going to play around with Korra in the mud for now, and the universe can just wait.

4. On the other hand, it occurs to Toph that when Katara hears about how the Omashu White Lotus chapter reacted to Tonraq, she is going to be furious. And she is probably going to come right down to Omashu give them a piece of her mind, on her way to the swamp. There are few things as entertaining in the world as listening to Katara chew somebody, as long as that somebody isn't Toph, out. And if Toph plays her cards right, Katara will totally allow her to sit in. Hmmm. Okay, the universe wins. She'll tell Katara about the Avatar.

5. Sure enough, Katara is OUTRAGED at the stupidity, arrogance, and cruelty of the Omashu chapter of the Order of the White Lotus, and she kindly informs Toph that she will be leaving on the next ship, and that the journey usually takes roughly fifteen days, And she will send Toph a letter by messenger hawk, now that she knows were Toph is hiding, as soon as she has gotten to the port, after which it will be only a day's journey for each of them to Omashu. Katara knows her so well. When Katara's second letter arrives, Toph packs up and travels to Omashu as fast as her earthbending will take her. She braves the city, an outright assault on her senses after her solitary life in the swamp, and finds her way to the little White Lotus chapter house. Katara is already there, drinking tea, and listening, apparently sympatheticly to the staff of the Omashu branch telling her all about the tedium they have to deal with in a provincial city like Omashu, why they even had a man from the swamp in a few months back trying to say that his daughter was the avatar. Can you imagine. Toph grins wolfishly, throws herself down on the bench next to one of Katara's unsuspecting victims, props her muddy feet up on the table, leans back against the mud brick wall, and prepares for a show.

[wnnbdarklord]

What I want people to understand is that when I say "I think Loki is acting OOC in the show" I don't just (or even *mostly*) mean "I don't think Loki would do that".

I mean "I don't think Loki would do that *in that way*".

Because sure, I can justify a scenario where Loki continues his "I'm gonna rule you" posturing after the Avengers. But I can't justify a scenario where Loki does it by jumping up on a rock and losing all sense of menace and subtlety.

Can I see a scenario where Loki gets apprehended by the TVA? Sure. But why does it happen 0.2 seconds after he stupidly approaches a force that's likely hostile? If you really want to show how badass the TVA is, make them work a little to capture Loki.

I don't believe Loki wouldn't immediately try to magic his way out of the TVA. I don't think he would be hostile about it, but to not even try to make an illusion that goes with them while he fucks off? Nah. You want Loki overwhelmed that his magic doesn't work? Hit him with that immediately.

While I can totally believe Loki would be feeling out of his depth and maybe even panicking about the TVA, I do not in a 100 000 years believe he would show his fear and confusion so openly. I don't believe he would broadcast his every thought and emotion, I absolutely don't think he would talk out loud to no one. He would stay quiet, observing.

I even believe he would ask "Do many people not know they're robots?" (or whatever the exact question was), but I don't think he would ask it like that, so earnestly, his insecurity and existential crisis plain for the world to see. Instead, it would've been sarcastic, all of his underlying emotions hidden under a controlled demeanor.

I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Mostly, where the fuck did all his subtlety go? Where did all his acting in control go? The quiet menace hiding a broken heart? Instead, we get...what we got. Someone unable to manipulate his way out a paper bag, who states his "plans" openly, who can't even act normally undercover for 2 seconds to get on a train, and so on.

This is why any justification of his actions falls flat on its face to me. Because it’s not about what he’s doing, it’s also about how he’s doing it. And he’s doing it like a clown.

Even if it is some grand long con, it sucks, because it's not being presented as one. It's being presented as though we should be taking the show's word for it. I, for one, refuse to.

For fucks' sake, Sylvie is acting more like Loki than Loki is. And oh look, she also gets his clothes and his competence and his sense of restraint. I'd like Loki to get them back, please. Because this isn't making me like Sylvie, it's just making me resent her. But mostly, I just resent Marvel for giving us even more shit when I was expecting post-Avengers Loki.

[blzzrdstryr]

Prima materia

Yandere!Kaeya & Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 4156

CW: Yandere themes, mentions of violence, death and NSFW

An angel.

That’s what Kaeya thinks when he sees you - he’s far from being a religious person, yet this word appears in his mind, vivid and burning, pushing out any other thought away. He stands here, starstruck and unsure what to do, devouring your visage with his eye alone.

Your first meeting is incidental - he walks around the Mondstadt, looking for the leads for the recent mass disappearance case. An alarming number of people went missing right before the Windrise festival. All are destitute alcoholics with no real importance, all except one - Javier Lawrence, who in this case is a rich alcoholic, and a reason why investigation even started. Mondstadt may be a nation of freedom, yet money and status still dominate most of its social dynamics.

Kaeya goes to Eula first - Javier was her twice removed cousin after all, she ought to know something. The spindrift knight is restrained in her speech, careful not to insult her missing relative, despite the deepening frown. She says almost nothing new, stating that Javier had a passion for drinking and wasting his days away, she also mentions his favourite places to wander while drunk - gardens, plaza and the forest outside the city.

Visits to the first two bear no fruits - Kaeya doesn’t find any eyewitnesses, but hears tons upon the tons of complaints and insults directed at the missing, so he heads for the forest, expecting to find the mangled body among the heaps of green leaves - being drunk in the forest deep is never a good idea, yet he finds none. He stumbles upon you instead.

You sit among the wild flowers and bitter herbs, head bowed, closely inspecting the plants in your hands and humming a light tune as you do so. There’s a certain serenity about you, some kind of magical elegance radiating off of every movement, it’s deliberate, yet relaxed. You remind him of the forest nymph from the paintings he saw - celestial and seductive, and totally unaware of the effect you have on him.

This feeling is further exacerbated by the simple white shirt you're wearing - the material is thin and half-transparent, already revealing the outline of your torso. Kaeya gulps when he imagines it getting wet and clinging to your body, your skin and nipples showing through the flimsy fabric. The only thing that spoils this otherwise perfect sight are small dark bruises both hands, blooming like two ominous roses.

“Hello”, he finally suppresses lustful urges and steps closer, distracting you from the herb picking. “My name’s Kaeya Alberich, I am the cavalry captain of the Knight of Favonius, and I want you to answer a couple of my questions”.

You turn unnaturally still upon hearing his voice, hands squeezing the plants, even your breathing is impossible to hear. You are terrified. Kaeya turns his head to the side at this picture, eyebrows raised - this is… a very interesting reaction.

“I am sorry, I am not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say, finally collecting yourself and raising your head to meet his eye, and Kaeya finds himself struck again.

Stars.

You have star-shaped pupils. Just like him.

He makes a step again, back this time, as his chest starts to rise and fall faster, breathing accelerating. Why do you have these eyes? He thought he was the only one left…

“Sir Kaeya, what brings you here?”he hears a familiar voice. Albedo comes from the forest deep, quickly striding to him and then stopping between you and the cavalry captain. Alchemist's face remains indifferent and his tone impassive, yet through the haze of confusion and shock Kaeya still notes how he protectively put himself between you two, as if shielding you from his gaze.

“Investigation. I thought asking… this lovely person a couple of questions might help solve the case”, he flashes one of his most charming smiles to Albedo, who predictably remains apathetic towards such displays. You, on the other hand, still sit on the forest ground and have your eyes shifting between Kaeya and Albedo, with fear and hope respectively.

“I am afraid you won’t find any answers here. They are under my care, and they don’t know anything about whatever your case is”. Albedo’s voice still remains polite, but Kaeya can taste the hidden hostility, he almost backs off from surprise.

“Well, that’s unfortunate”, he admits defeat and puts on a smile again - it’s a colder one this time, less genuine - and turns on his heels, throwing “have a nice day” as the afterthought, insides burning with the strange mix of disappointment and resentment.

He almost leaves the forest, as he hears Albedo talking to you: “It’s alright, [First], I won't punish you for speaking to him, he asked you first”. You reply something, but Kaeya is too far to make out any of your lovely voice, yet the things he witnessed today are enough to spawn a horde of questions.

Why does Albedo act so possessive? Why do you allow him to do so? What connects you two together? And most importantly: Who are you?

Thousand different theories fleet through his mind, as he mulls over new information. He doesn’t come back to that place, despite his curiosity nagging him to do so, he can’t - Kaeya is now acutely aware of the power Albedo seems to hold over you and returning might anger the alchemist.

Cavalry captain returns to the case of missing people, yet his mind continues to wander off, thought returning to your face and voice and body and the colossal mystery cloaking you.

***

Investigation progresses unbelievably slowly - if he was a gullible person, Kaeya would’ve thought that all of the missing just vanished into thin air - no leads, no traces, not a single clue of what might have happened, leaving the knights with nothing but straws to grasp at. To add to the severity of the situation after a week of receiving the case from Jean, Kaeya is notified about the new disappearance of two other people - Joachim and Luckas. They’re also a pair of alcoholics, the first one was last seen around the Angel’s Share, the second one was heading for the Dragonspine.

Kaeya goes to the said tavern - at first he just talks with the patrons, effortlessly fishing out the information about the missing person, which brings nothing new (again), then he gets a bit bored with drunk-interrogating others and decides to ask Diluc what he might’ve seen. And that also reveals nothing new (again) - Joachim has visited the tavern, ordered some wine and after a couple of bottles downed, left. Nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking, just a day of another Mondstadtian drunkard.

It seems that he isn’t destined to find whatever spirited Joachim away, so Kaeya leaves the city heading for the snowy mountain in the distance. He asks around the adventurers camp near the ruined tower, only to hear that Luckas was seen around the mountain.

Kaeya walks to the Dragonspine, already feeling the chill at the foot of the mountain, and his determination slowly melts - Dragonspine is one big freezing hellhole, full of monsters and Fatuis who for some reason decided to reside here, yet one particular face appears in his mind. Seeing you again might be worth the whole trouble - he noticed you a couple of times, always in the company of the certain alchemist, so if Albedo is in his camp, then you’re most likely there too.

Now inspired Kaeya quickly traverses the mountain, skillfully avoiding the hilichurl tribes and skirmishes altogether. After a short, yet frankly gruelling travel he finds himself finally arriving at the camp, your figure seen from the entrance. You sit near the alchemical device, tightly bundled up in layers upon layers of warm clothes, a book in your hands with no Albedo in sight. The alchemical apparatus is on, dyeing the whole room into scarlet shades, something red boiling inside of it, filling the air with the strange metallic scent. “Recent history of Teyvat”, Kaeya reads the cover and takes a step in. You remain still, too engrossed in reading to hear his footsteps, which he uses to take another good look at you.

Your face still looks lovely as it was on that day, yet there’s now a strong aura of frailness present - a greyish undertone of the skin, dry, chapped lips, pinkish-red rims blooming on your eyes, duller hair, even the fingers holding the books appear to be thinner. You look emaciated and exhausted, you must be sick.

“Hello”, Kaeya decides to pop the bubble of tranquility again - you quickly lift your head to look at him and almost drop the book: “We met before, in the forest, remember? I am here because of an investigation”.

“I am sorry, but I don’t think I can be of any help and I am still not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say and return to reading, pretending that he isn’t here.

“Well, that means we can introduce ourselves, so we won’t be strangers anymore and you will be able to talk to me without breaking any rules, right? Hello! I am Kaeya Alberich and I work as cavalry captain in the Knights of Favonius, pleased to meet you!”, he puts on his warmest smile and outstretches his hand to shake yours.

“I am not sure that this is a good idea, Albedo warned me to avoid outsiders”, you say, looking uneasy, as you throw a quick glance, past Kaeya, to the entrance of the camp.

“Albedo and I are coworkers, we both even had to work on some missions together, sure he doesn’t think of me as some outsider”.

“If you say so”, you sigh and cave in, your palm finally touching his. Kaeya feels the corners of his lips creeping up at the sensation, his heart skipping a beat or two: “I am [First} and I am… Albedo’s ward, pleased to meet you too”

“Now with introductions done, can I ask you a question?”, he takes another step and you nod - a step more and he might feel the warmth radiating off of your body, or hear your faint breathing, or smell your scent.

“Where are you from?”, your eyes widen at that. Kaeya finds himself almost hypnotized by this sight: the stars in your eyes shine with a renewed strength, the pale sunlight bringing out their warmth and radiance.

“I don’t really remember”, you admit, voice quiet and small: “Albedo says he found…”

“I discovered [First] in the heart of the mountain”, alchemist ends it for you, standing at the entrance of his camp with both of his assistants by the side, hands occupied by the local flora.

“Timaeus, sort and prepare ingredients”, he hands the herbs to the man: “Sucrose, you check up on [First] and give them.. the medicine, don’t worry I’ll just talk to sir Kaeya there”, Timaeus and Sucrose rush to the assigned task, with the latter taking out a red vial from the alchemical drawer, the liquid inside shimmering and glowing with an unnatural glitter. The last part is said to you, as alchemist gestures for the cavalry captain to go outside, quickly leaving the room.

Kaeya follows him as they both leave the camp - Albedo walks unusually quickly, not looking around even once to check if he’s still behind, and only when the both of them leave the camp far enough - so far that you, Timaeus and Sucrose turn into a small dots does he stop.

“What do you need? Why did you interrogate [First]?”, Albedo says, skipping all of the courtesies. His voice remains neutral, but Kaeya can feel the displeasure - it radiates off of his pose and faster speech, how Kreideprinz’s disinterested eyes suddenly turned cold and piercing.

“Easy, easy”, Kaeya half-laughs, raising his hands in mock defence: “interrogate is a strong word here, we two just had a friendly chat”.

Teal eyes narrow at this whimsical answer and alchemist’s face sours: “Leave [First] alone”, he voices, darkly and angrily - Kaeya almost backs off from surprise - it’s quite unusual to see Albedo express his disdain so freely and openly, yet he replies in the same carefree tone:

“I won’t, not until you say where they’re from at least. [First] has star-shaped pupils, we both know what it means”.

“I already have said that - I found [First] deep underneath the mountain, completely frozen. Cold must have trapped them in the ice and preserved their body for all these years, yet it also damaged their memory. They seem to be unaware of what happened to your homeland five hundred years ago, nor do they have any idea of the present world". Kaeya intently observes Albedo as he says that - alchemist is certainly hiding something.

"That's how.. Well, I wish [First] good luck in retrieving their memories", he decides not to press further - Albedo is already in a bad mood and won't tolerate him fishing for more information, nor will the alchemist agree to share what he hides. Kaeya asks him a couple of questions pertaining to the missing person and he gets the expected answer - Luckas wasn't seen by Albedo or any of his assistants either. Alchemist says it a bit quicker than he usually talks, Kaeya chalks it up to annoyance.

***

The first useful lead appears after the third disappearance this month - Masha Haedle, who was characterized as hardworking and passionate, yet troubled by her alcohol addiction, vanished on the way to her job. Her employer sent one letter after another, demanding her to visit her workplace, lest she will be fired. Haedle didn’t answer any of the messages, nor was she spotted anywhere in the next few days.

It was her concerned neighbours who notified the knights, who quickly connected her disappearance to the series of other missing cases and Kaeya was dispatched again - he decided to start by investigating her house and he was right in doing so.

Her place is barren, but tidy, Haedle's diligence and financial issues shining through the simple interior. Kaeya strides among the neatly cleaned house until he enters a small bedroom.

Unlike the rest of the place, the bed here is undone, sheets lay messily across the nightstand and floor, with a couple of plant pots knocked over, dry soil sprawled everywhere. He comes closer to this picture, taking in the small details - there's a trace of fingernails on the wood, as if the victim was latching onto the furniture as she was dragged back, a part of the sheets is actually burnt, with a small candle crushed on the floor - it could be knocked down when kidnapper attacked Masha, and the most glaring piece - an orange dimly glowing crystal.

It crumbles and disintegrates the same second Kaeya picks it up, but this short moment is enough to feel the warmth radiating off of it - it's a geo crystal, formed by the reaction with pyro.

Whoever attacked miss Haedle was using a geo vision to put out the fire, and might also be the reason of other disappearances. After all, a vision user kidnapping the drunkards is just as nonsensical as said drunks just vanishing into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

***

Mondstadt embraces the Windrise festival with the same warmth it always did, as citizens of all sorts start to prepare for the coming festivities. Some decorate their houses with dried and paper flowers that they consider anemones, others stock up on both sweets and wine, no doubt for a celebratory dinner, bards recite the new songs, praising the anemo archon and caroling the freedom that Barbatos gave them, and knights, both high and low ranks alike are piled with even more work.

Kaeya finds himself temporarily dispatched from the dead-end investigation, tasked to look out for any suspicious persons and possible lawbreakers, as a horde of tourists and traders flooded the city. He spends the entire day working, and catches a breather once the sun starts to set. This break, however, is swiftly interrupted, when Jean summons him, asking to deliver some messages to Albedo for the lack of workforce.

Unsurprisingly, the alchemist spends his time outside of the city in a temporary camp, preferring the fresh air and forest landscape to the human loudness and cheer. He finds you alone again, with Albedo nowhere to be seen. Seems that whatever disease has plagued you started to back off - your tone is still far from healthy, yet it stopped being so ashy and grey like the first time, and your starry eyes no longer look like you’ve cried all night non-stop.

You stand near the table, slowly sorting the alchemical compounds, with both sleeves rolled up, exposing the delicate, elegant wrists and the old bruising on the forearms. The setting sun almost lights your visage on fire - you look brighter, more vivid, than you did under the pale Dragonspine sun or the cool shadow of the forest. You look like you glow too.

Even with the fatigue, he still smiles - ah, you’re so easy on the eyes, he rests just by looking at you..

“Hello”, he approaches, distracting you from your task for the third time: “is Albedo here?”.

“He left some time ago, he wanted to sketch hilichurl tribe. Said it’s too dangerous for me, so I am just standing here, waiting for him”, Kaeya can sense a mild disappointment coming from you, which is not surprising - spending your time in the wilderness, while the city before you is set ablaze in the celebration can frustrate anyone. He gets an idea.

“I see you want to see the Windrise for yourself, am I right?”, your affirmative nod, “How about I accompany you to Mondstadt and we both have some fun?”.

“I would really want to, but Albedo asked me to stay here. I don’t want to disappoint him”, you reply, the hesitation in your voice clear as day.

“And you won't!”Kaeya retorts: “I will take all the blame, say that I spirited you away with my persuasion skills”, he adds dramatically and outstretches his palm in a theatrical gesture. You giggle at that, obviously entertained by his antics.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me”, you take his hand, before asking: “this is why you came? To invite me to a festival?”

Oh, he forgot about messages.

Kaeya leaves them in the secure box you pointed to, before taking your hand again and almost running back to Monstadt. Something tells him that Albedo will be livid once he returns to the now empty camp.

***

“Oh gods”, you gasp, looking at the burst of colors exploding in the night sky - some travelers have brought fireworks from Liyue and Inazuma and decided to set them off, creating a breathtaking scenery. Kaeya even forgets how to breathe, but not because of the fireworks, but you - you look so excited and amazed, and all kinds of colours reflect from your eyes, the stars in them resembling two large diamonds. He’s ready to kill for this sight.

The next half an hour are spent with him following you, as you excitedly run from one thing or another - turns out Albedo didn’t allow you much outside time, so even the main streets of Mondstadt are novelty to you. He drinks in your reactions, all the faces and sounds you make are stored away in his memory as you get amazed by the simplest things.

In the end, he decides to take you to the Angel’s Share, you’re already so cute and he can’t imagine how much more adorable you’ll become all drunk and giggly. He orders a bottle of a young wine for you two - made from the spring dandelions, it’s taste is perfect for the atmosphere of Windrise - it tastes of freedom and adventure, the spirit of Mondstadt encapsulated into a beverage.

“It tastes nice”, you comment, taking a small sip, “it’s sweet but not too sweet”, before your face suddenly contorts from pain and you bend in half, hands clutching your abdomen.

“[First]? What’s happening, [First]?”Kaeya rushes to you, his hands stopping your fall. You mumble something incoherent, before going limp in his hold - you are unconscious. He shakes your form to wake you up, yet you don’t respond, inner panic slowly rising - what to do, what to do, what to do?

“Did you give alcohol to [First]?!”, suddenly someone hisses near him. It’s Albedo again and it’s the first time Kaeya sees him so angry. “We need to get [First] to my lab quickly. Every second counts”, Albedo helps him to lift you up and almost runs out from the tavern, pushing others away to make way for Kaeya and you in his hands.

“Put them here”, alchemist point to the big wooden table, quickly knocking over all empty flasks down, uncaring of the equipment he might break, as he rushes into the further part of the room, taking out the already on alchemical apparatus from the depths of his cabinets.

The strange red liquid slushes inside, as Albedo swiftly opens the top and adds some hideous mix of blood and pieces of flesh into the device, the reek of blood and alcohol permeating the air.

Kaeya wants to gag. “What’s this?”, he asks, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“Medicine”, Albedo quickly replies, teal eyes shifting from the mix to your sick face.

Over time the stench subsides, and apparatus starts to glow and shimmer with that scarlet radiance Kaeya saw in the Dragonspine camp, replacing the stink with the same strange coppery scent. Albedo takes out a glass vial from his pocket and connects it to the faucet of the apparatus, collecting the fat drops of the produced liquid.

Kaeya takes a good look at the product, mesmerized by the strange glitter and shimmer - it looks alive, and then suddenly everything clicks - the origin of medicine, the smell of alcohol coming from meat and even the disappearances of the drunkards. He remembers the tales his father used to tell him, about khemia and the wonders and horrors it could unleash - artificial humans, endless gold and…

“Philosopher’s stone”, he breathes out, utterly shocked by his revelation.

“How? How did you know”, Albedo looks at him with scared eyes, almost dropping the vial with “medicine”.

“Why?! Why did you do that?!”Kaeya yells instead of answering the question, still shocked and horrified, a taste of bile appearing on his tongue.

Alchemist seems unsure and totally lost for a good minute, as his usually calm face rapidly shifts between different emotions: sadness, shock, horror, shame and even anger, until finally resulting into the expression of total defeat: “It’s for [First]’s sake”, he tiredly admits the dark secret: “The frost has severely damaged their internal organs. I’ve been trying to heal them, but to no avail”.

“So you decided to break alchemical laws and create the elixir of life”, Kaeya grimly concludes, face scrunching up from disgust.

“Yes”, an unsettling lips makes its way onto the alchemist's lips as he lifts his head and looks captain right in the eye: “I’ve broken the laws, killed people and used their bodies. All to save [First]. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, I’ve seen how you stare at [First] and I know what you want to do with them”.

.Was he that obvious?

“I see”, Kaeya replies, sensing the growing headache and rubbing his temples: “I won’t tell others of what you’ve done”. He can’t just imprison Albedo and doom you to a slow, agonizing death.

“I knew you would agree with me”, alchemist sighs “[First] is getting healthier, they won’t need… medicine as often, yet their organs will never be in a top condition”.

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many people per year?”

Albedo turns quiet again, the creepy smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared, as his eyes adopt that contemplating look again.

“No more than three people. Once I fix that liver damage you gave [First] with your wine, they won’t need no more than three transfusions”, he says his verdict and Kaeya weighs his words - three missing people per year is a miniscule number.

“I make at most philosopher’s stones per year and you cover my tracks in exchange for time with [First]. Deal?”, Albedo extends his hand for a handshake and Kaeya takes it, yet doesn’t shake it, asking instead:

“Can I get to taste [First]?”, he smiles, remembering your face and imagining your body.

“If [First] consents to that, then yes”, Albedo becomes that inexpressive again, yet he can still feel the displeasure and indignation coming from alchemist’s answer.

“I am sure they will, I think they like me”, he finally shakes the other’s arm.

They sit in a silence for a while, before the vial gets completely filled by the “medicine” - Albedo takes out a syringe and injects the mixture into your bloodstream through the veins on the hands. Kaeya smiles even wider, looking how a healthy colour returns to your face - he can’t wait to reap the fruits of this agreement.

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

[rcksmith]

Spring breeze — Spencer Reid

Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —

Part.2 Part.3 Part.4

A/N: I am marathoning Criminal Minds again and I can not express how much I loved the interaction of Gideon and Spencer!! So this idea came as an epiphany, and I love the conception of love at first sight. Maybe this becomes a serie...

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple:Spencer Reid/Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.

— — — — —

Something was different. Maybe it was the way the sun's rays cascaded down in an atypical way, maybe it was the breeze that carried a more lyrical intonation on its back, or maybe it was just the Earth that was adorned by an ethereal veil. Spencer didn't know how to point out what was really different, but he felt in his soul that something in the hemisphere had changed.

At first, when he took the subway to work, Spencer thought it was just an ephemeral sensation, just like those seconds when you feel the breath of the breeze more cold. But it didn't. The sensation accompanied him to work, to the plane, to the case, it stuck to him like a tattoo and Reid found himself looking around for answers that did not exist physically.

He considered all the theories that were possible to explain that destabilization in his subtly balanced world. But he found none.

“Are you feeling anything different today?” That's what he asked Morgan.

Derek shrugged, finishing packing up at the police station so they could go back to Quantico.

“No.” Then he looked Reid whit his obsidian eyes “Is something bothering you? Is the Genie feeling any peturbation in the Force? ”

Spencer chuckled through his nose at the Star Wars joke, but just shook his head in a 'No'. And the conversation died there. How could he explain something that even he didn't understand?

Trying to ignore the way his heart was beating fast, for no reason, in anticipation of something Spencer himself was unaware of, he wondered how long he was going to have that sensation. The feeling of euphoria, the taste of something, there was something exciting in the air, almost angelic.

But how long was that going to accompany him? One day? One week? Whole life? For the first time, Spencer didn't have the answer. And that was disconcerting.

When BAU's glass doors opened for agents to settle on their desks and Hotch and Gideon go to their respective offeces, a wave of icy breeze from the DC air reverberated through the enclosure. Spencer can see that Morgan shrugged in the wind, Emily looke for a coat in the black suitcase, but his own body didn't seem to be hit by the same breeze. For Reid, it had been a caustic, lyrical, almost spring, wave that carried the promise of something extraordinary on back. Almost divine.

In that split second, in a time as short as a blink, the feeling that his life would never be the same made him losing his breath. Spencer does not know what attracted his gaze to the BAU door, nor what made his whole body turn in that direction, like a magnet, like a wanderer in the desert who finds his Oasis. But he had been attracted, and as soon as a female hand pushed through the glass door and her figure came into view, Spencer understood the extraordinary thing that him heart was beating for in anticipation.

You.

It was as if the universe had been preparing him all day for that moment. As if the body itself tried to prepare it. Because if Spencer hadn't fell those feelings of euphoria all day, he would have drowned in his own reactions to seeing you.

In a burst, like a violin string popping, Reid understood what was different about the hemisphere, because why the air was ethereal, because why the night felt like poetry, and why the moon whispered swears of love. In that moment, Spencer understood the mysteries of the world, unraveled the riddles of life, drank from the wisdom of The Oracle of ancient Greece. In an instant, watching you enter, Spencer understood the reason for his life.

In an instant.

The world shuddered in slow motion, capturing all your movements, all your graceful gait, all your glory. An elegant black dress with thin straps modeled your body in an arcane, almost divine way, your legs were supported on black high heels, making your walk seem like a glide of honey.

You were not beautiful. You are gorgeous. You shone. Sparkled.

And, like an atrocious wave that broke over Reid and pulled him into the sea, that whole feeling that stuck with him all day came to accompany the female figure. Following in your footsteps like the tail of a long dress.

Spencer was sure that his life would never be the same.

They hadn't even sat at their tables when you showed up. Like the muse that came out of an action movie. And when you got close enough to attract the attention of Emily and Morgan, whose Derek opened his mouth when he noticed the female figure that was the personification of Female Fatal, Spencer felt himself letting out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. He knew that anyone with eyes and a little common sense would notice how overwhelmingly beautiful you were, so when Morgan turned his body fully towards you, Reid was not surprised.

“Hi." Your voice, to Reid, had a floral intonation “Do you guys know where I can find Jason?”

When his eyes met yours, Spencer felt his breath being stolen from him once again. Usually, girls like you didn't look twice at guys like him, Spencer knew that. Girls like you liked men like Morgan. Athletes, strong, Alpha Male. And because of that, it was an explosion in Reid's system when you took a few seconds longer in that eye contact and a delightful smile appeared on yours lips. As if you appreciate what you were seeing.

That was a shock. Was it true or was he misinterpreting the signs? Was him mind playing tricks on him, like the flickering shadows of furniture under the darkness and the flame of a candle? Spencer would not be able to say a word without stuttering at that moment even that him life depended on it. In fact, he was already starting to feel cheeks heating up. So he thanked any deities that might exist when Morgan and Emily responded to you and broke the eye contact between the two of you.

“Jason Gideon?” Morgan frowned slightly.

“He's in the office but...” But Emily couldn't finish the sentence before Gideon's voice came out over everyone's:

“Y/n?” It was in a tone that no one there had ever heard in Gideon. A sweet, loving intonation... paternal.

None of the three agents present there had time to express their thoughts in facial expressions before you said:

“Dad!”

Then the whole world took a turn and seemed to be terrified, making them feel as if they had been thrown out of the tenth-floor window. This time, Reid's eyes widened at the two friends, who also had puzzled expressions. Everyone knew that Gideon had a past, probably with divorces and children, a life he had left behind, but no one expected...that.

Perhaps Gideon's vision of a family was something that was only in the imagination, never something tangible. Until that moment. Until the most beautiful girl Reid had ever seen was the daughter of one of the men he respected most. Until him heart soared at alarming levels for him boss's daughter. Spencer had been in trouble before when it came to matters of the heart, but the trouble gained a position in the top 3.

“What are you doing here?” A rare smile appeared on Gideon's face, his brow slightly furrowed.

“We were going to dinner today, remember? In that new Japanese restaurant.” Your tone of voice was not resentful or hurt by the situation that was explicit there.

The life of a BAU agent take many things, some with a more atrocious force than others, and one of them was the availability of hours. commitments that count on presence.

“I totally forgot, I'm sorry.” Gideon's voice was always calm and controlled, he managed to speak from the most tender emotions to the most heinous crimes with a peaceful intonation. But to perceive traces of parental love was new. “The case was very complicated, my cell phone died and...”

“It's okay, Dad.” You smiled, making a casual gesture with your hand “I thought this happened, but I thinking it best to come here to see if everything was okay instead of waiting until tomorrow.”

Your smile, despite being the simple one, was the brightest for Spencer.

Gideon still had a fatherly look and a chaste and grateful smile when he turned to the other agents who were still puzzled.

“Y/n, these are agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid.” Jason introduced them to you “Guys, this is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Is a pleasure.” You smiled genuinely at them.

“I had no idea that you had a daughter!” Emily gave a low, slightly bewildered laugh that also made you laugh.

“Everybody says that.” You looked at your father again, having fun.

“I'm just going to go over some reports with Hotcher before I leave.” Gideon kept a chaste smile. “Why don't you wait here and then let's go get something to eat?”

“Of course, no problem, Dad.” You agreed, adjusting the thin shoulder bag that was on your shoulder.

As Jason went up to Hotcher's office, you turned to the agents again, with a gentle smile on your face.

“My dad said great things about you.” Emily smiled at your statement.

"I'm still chocked ." She laughed, and Morgan added:

“ I really need to know...” he looked around, in a playful suspense “Is Gideon really that serious outside the FBI?”

You laughed “Oh no! Definitely not.”

So you reached for your phone in the litlle bag, hunting for a photo on it and showing it to the three agents. It was a recent photograph where you and Gideon had their faces painted in easy ink. You had a skeleton mouth made with white and black paint, and Jason had a pink glitter butterfly covering his left cheek. You two were laughing in the photo.

Morgan was the one who let out a loud, dripping laugh, with a few tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“How is this possible?” Morgan was trying to catch the air.

“It was at the last Halloween, he and I bet that whoever lost in the snooker that day would have to paint a butterfly on their face.” You laughed.

“And did he lose?” Spencer found a voice for it, his mind failing to process the image of Gideon losing any game.

“I have my suspicions that he let me win” You joked “But I enjoyed the victory just the same.”

The conversation was light after that, Spencer refrained from much of the dialogue, a little fearful that you could hear him heart beating loudly whenever you smile in his direction. As the minutes passed, Derek and Emily had to go back to their duties and finish their reports, while you were sitting in one of the chairs at an empty table.

It was one of those moments when Reid tried to focus on the files in front of him to exorcise what was going on around him. Paperwork had always brought the lull needed to make Spencer meditate. It was almost like relaxation. But in moments like this, when something in the environment around him pulled his attention so much, he stayed on the same page for long minutes.

That must be why he didn't hear the wheels on your chair approach, and he didn't even notice that you were so close until you said:

“Are you really a doctor?” Your voice was low, soft, as if you didn't want to disturb the other agents who were working.

Spencer turned his head towards you, only to find the modern personification of what would be the Athena de Troia. You were close, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could smell your perfume. You smelled like the night, the excitement of nights and the brightness of the stars. And if Spencer looked deeper into yours eyes, he would sure they contained shine moonlight.

He swallowed, the mania for blinking compulsively returning a little.

“A-ahm yes. Not really a doctor, but m-my 3 Phd’s make me a doctor.”

He might be mistaken, but the smile that spread across your face was not just friendly, it wasn't curious, it was… delighted. As if the roles were reversed and he was the most fascinating thing in that room, not you.

The glow that was adorned in yours eyes had something lyrical, ethereal, wonderful. As if the brightness of all the galaxies were inhabiting your irises, moving in your orbit. At that moment, Spencer was deeply grateful to have eidetic memory, because 10 years from now he could still remember how you looked like a muse over there. DC night came in through the big glass windows, and if Reid had to describe that moment with the five senses, he would say that the world had turned the light down to a rose tone, the smell was heaven and your smile promised to contain wonders of the world.

Holy Mother of God, you are so, so beautiful!

“My dad said there was a genius on the team.” You said, your attention on him is always tender, adoreble. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Your perfume invaded him sense of smell once again, and he felt his heart beat faster once more. Spencer would have told you all the secrets in the world if you asked. He would have told all own secrets.

“No way.” He sat back in his chair to look at you better, oblivious to the exchange of looks that Emily and Morgan gave.

You rested your arms on Spencer's table, the chair next to his.

“You never thought of being like... the wizard Doctor Strange?” You hoped that Spencer knew Marvel “Before he was a magician, of course. But why didn't you want to be a surgeon or something?” You laughed “There is a phrase him says: I have a photographic memory and this is what made me ..."

“ ‘Get my diploma and doctorate at the same time’ " Spencer completed you, laughing softly “I know the HQs. Did you know that the Doctor Strange character was created during the Silver Age of American comics to bring a different type of character and mystical themes to Marvel Comics? It him has an intellectual coefficient close to 177 points and I have… ”

The more he rambled, the more a stunning smile spread across your face. As if you were enchanted with him. And you were. Everyone was noticing the way Spencer seemed to have you curled up on his finger, your eyes sparkling and a silly smile twinkling on your face, paying attention to every word he said. It was an overwhelmingly lovely sight to behold.

But just as everything had a time, an hourglass, your time had reached the last grain of sand.

“All right, Y/n.” Gideon went down the stairs, cutting the end of Reid's sentence “Ready?”

You stood up, agreeing with your father and smoothing the dress. When you put your hands on the chair, ready to take it back to place, you turned to Spencer once again:

“I'm going to bring my dad to BAU tomorrow, do you think me and you can meting and you give me the answer to the question tomorrow?” Your smile was able to light up the whole of Washington.

“S-sure!” Spencer's voice went up more high notes than he would like to admit.

And, even when you left, even when Morgan and Emily jokes him about it, and even when he finally lay down on his own bed, you were still the only thing that occupied Spencer's mind.

[robotwrangler]

Thinking a lot of postgame Yes Man thoughts tonight.. I have so many ideas about the development of his personality and morality depending on what sort of person the courier happens to be?

(Putting the rest under a cut because this post got kinda long)

So like.. to preface this, I’ve seen it said by a few people (and I agree) that, because it can be completed no matter what your courier has done beforehand, the independent/wildcard ending has the potential to be either the best or the worst ending for the Mojave depending on your courier’s actions leading up to it; it’s all dependant on what sort of a person your courier is, their moral compass, what they’ve done. A wildcard courier could be any sort of person; they could be the dumbest idiot, an absolute saint or the cruellest bastard who ever lived. And one thing that I think should be explored more is the way that this relates to Yes Man.

Yes Man doesn’t really seem to know anyone else. He knew Benny, of course, and possibly Emily Ortal to some degree, but there’s not really much evidence to show what their relationship was like; he seems almost a little scathing or resentful of Benny here and there, but mostly speaks about him in an indifferent, ‘just stating the facts’ sort of way that makes me suspect that they weren’t very close. His opinions on a few of the factions are actually quite different to Benny’s, so it seems his values are mostly his own and didn’t just rub off on him from Benny. As for other people knowing him, Benny is the only person in the game to mention Yes Man by name, so we can assume the courier is the only other person he’s actually spent any time with.

In a way, I guess you could say this means that Yes Man goes from Benny’s workshop being his entire world to the courier being his entire world, and this is where it gets interesting to me.

Everyone has different interpretations of what Yes Man means by upgrading himself to be ‘a little more assertive’ at the end of the game. Sure, word of god said something about it just being intended to mean that Yes Man would no longer have to answer to anyone but the courier, but I like to think that it could be interpreted differently, depending on what sort of a dynamic that particular courier has built up with Yes Man.

As much as I always roll my eyes at the ‘Yes Man is actually evil and manipulating the courier in order to rise to power and then betray them’ types of theories, Yes Man is clearly capable of forming his own opinions and feelings towards things and people.. so, after the battle of Hoover Dam, once his upgrade is complete and he’s no longer forced by his programming to submit to the whims of whoever he speaks to, would he really choose to remain loyal to just any courier?

Despite his people-pleasing tendencies, Yes Man always makes his preferences pretty clear when he presents choices of action to the courier. There’s usually one choice he seems enthused about, and another choice that he presents as undesirable, whether that’s because it’s a bad choice for the future of New Vegas, or just less appealing to him, personally. For example, his disdain for the BOS appears to be at least partially out of concern for his own wellbeing - if the courier tells him that they’ve sided with the BOS, his immediate disappointment seems to be mostly based on his concern that the BOS will really want to blow him up or scrap him for salvage; he almost seems insulted that the courier would side with a faction that would wish harm on him.

Anyway, this post is getting too long already because I have too many thoughts and I’m not capable of being concise ever, so I’ll try and get to the point: the unique dynamic that each different courier has with Yes Man could deeply impact the sort of person he becomes once he has more free will. Once Benny is out of the picture, the courier is presumably the only person in Yes Man’s life, so the way that they treat him and maybe even just their own personality could both seriously influence the direction he takes as a character.

If the courier consistently disregarded Yes Man’s wishes, perhaps by getting cosy with the BOS and blowing up the securitron army and whatnot, would Yes Man hold resentment towards them for it? What if they were openly hostile towards him over the course of their partnership; would he really remain on their side once he finally had a choice in the matter? If they treated him cruelly, and he later killed them or left them once he had the free will to do so, would he then be more likely to hold distrust and resentment for humans in general as a result of his limited experience with them being so unpleasant?

On the other hand, what if a courier was kind and considerate towards him, and treated him with respect as though he were just another valued friend they’d made along the way? Would he enjoy their company, and choose to stay by their side even once his upgrade was complete and he was no longer obligated to help them?

Something else to consider is something I find especially interesting; what if the courier’s overall morals and their treatment of Yes Man weren’t exactly aligned? For example, a very good karma courier who happens to hate robots and only sides with Yes Man as a last resort, due to it being the only way to achieve an independent New Vegas, but doesn’t actually like him or befriend him? What would become of their partnership once the courier succeeded at the Dam?

Or, possibly my favourite concept, the complete opposite.. what about a courier with very evil karma who’s basically an irredeemable, bloodthirsty sadist, but they happen to really like Yes Man & think he’s neat so they become inseparable friends with him? What would Yes Man himself be like if the courier he was so close to was objectively a monstrous person?

And that’s one of the things I find the most fun to theorise about. Yes Man’s own morals are sort of a blank slate; despite how friendly and harmless he appears, he’s still really a big, formidable robot who seems to have accidentally been made far too self aware, and he may have a few opinions about certain things but when it comes down to it, Yes Man on his own is neither good nor evil. However, I think that depending on the kind of person the courier is, and the nature of their relationship, his morals could either remain quite neutral or develop considerably in either direction, so there are tons of ways to portray his postgame personality and they‘re all equally plausible because he’s just such a uniquely flexible character in that way.

Perhaps he picks up a mean streak from his evil courier friend and they have an absolute blast terrorising the wasteland and its inhabitants together! Or perhaps his loyalties lie with a kind and idealistic courier who tries their best to help people, and he comes to understand the importance of such things as he helps them achieve their goals! Either way, he’d still be the Yes Man that we know and love; the difference in him in those scenarios purely depends on the company he keeps and their actions towards him.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about this stuff for now; I’ve been wanting to write about this for about a year, so I hope you’ll all excuse how long this post got. This is still all total speculation, since there's really no way of knowing for sure what Yes Man would be like after the upgrade or even the extent of the upgrade in general, but I just feel like there's so much unexplored potential for character development and postgame story stuff. The most important point I’m trying to make is I guess just to remember to have fun with the dynamic between Yes Man and the courier! The wildcard storyline leaves so much up to interpretation in regards to him, so it can be really fun to experiment with that. And it’s cool to think that, in a way, the Yes Man that your courier interacts with is unique to them, because no two couriers are the same!

[crimeboyultimate]

Alright I talked about this on another account already but I think it’d be good to summarize my thoughts here too.

The dream smp in the beginning, the first bit of rp that got popular was the L’manburg revolution, and there was a reason for it. It was exciting! It was new! Stakes were high, and everyone was so hopeful and determined and alive!

Even as things got dark in the Manburg era, there was still life. Fundy the spy! George’s marriage to Ninja! Sabotage, madness, the festival! Even in the deepest pits of the characters hopelessness, there’s reason to keep going. It was one of my favorite arcs, personally, considering how close to home Fundy and Schlatt’s almost familial relationship hits for me. How Quackity and Schlatt fall out, how their relationship rots. And how even with everything going wrong, they still keep moving. They don’t give up. As someone who’s mentally ill, that arc really meant, and still does mean a lot to me. Even through everything, there’s some little bit of hope left.

Then, c!Wilbur dies to the hand of his father. It’s a fitting end to his arc, but it’s still so terribly sad to the viewer. Then comes Ghostbur! He’s an amnesiac, he’s unsure and sad and alone, but he’s still kind. He’s disabled, in a way, but almost everyone doesn’t take advantage of that (aside from c!Dream, but he’d sacrifice anyone to get what he wants). He tries to make amends! c!Fundy resents him, but he doesn’t act like c!Fundy doesn’t have the right to.

I think, personally, that the exile was the turning point. c!Tommy, a child, is exiled. He took total blame for the burning of gogy’s gay little mushroom cottage, because c!Ranboo was new and he didn’t deserve to get caught up in c!Dream’s bullshit.

And so, c!Tommy is alone. He has Ghostbur, his almost-brother. Any visitors are scared off by c!Dream. Any progress is destroyed by c!Dream. For fuck’s sake, c!Tommy started building his pillars and staring into the nether’s orange-red sea. Hope is gone. Across the sea, the prison is being built, with its one solitary cell. The egg has surfaced, c!Bad and c!Skeppy are falling apart, the cult grows. That shit with c!Ponk and c!Sam happens. c!Punz is in love with a goddamn robot, apparently. Even so, most people don’t watch Punz’s streams, so for them, there’s no fucking relief. No hope.

Even c!Charlie, who lit up the server for the whole time he was present, dies. Micheal (pig) becomes a source of stress, c!Ranboo and c!Tubbo’s relationship starts to fall apart, c!Ranboo dies. Everything’s dark now, permanently. Every one of the ccs wants to be a part of this lore, so they’re all doing it. And it makes the dsmp heavy, it destroys the stakes. Why hope for characters when it’ll only get worse? Hell, we all know there aren’t stakes anyways, considering that everything’s scripted now, so cs are lead only by their respective ccs, which will certainly only be further down into the pits.

That, I think, is why the dream smp is dying. Everything is heavy, everything is sad, everything is hopeless, and there’s no stakes anymore. That suprise when c!Eret betrayed L’manburg? That was real! The pain when things failed, the rage when pets were killed, the determination to win and to keep going? That was all genuine, and it showed. Some of the ccs are good actors, sure, but we can tell that they’re acting. And besides, if I wanted to watch a child being horribly mentally abused and manipulated, I would simply hang out with my friends at their houses. I’m not here for horrible atrocities and neverending pain and the dull hollowness of a lack of hope, we have enough of that in the real world.

I want the escapism of L’manburg, of building a nation with your friends for your friends, the friendship and love in every block placed. And I think that’s a common wish.

[cogentranting]

Some Jupiter’s Legacy George/Skyfox theories. Spoilers for the entire first season. 

I’m thinking/hoping that George genuinely is not the villain he’s made out to be. 

I think that Walter orchestrated the events that split the Union in order to get the rest of the Union to turn on George. 

We’re not given hardly any details about George’s defection. Some broad generalities about no longer believing in the Code. A few sweeping statements about him being the greatest Supervillain of all time, and the Union’s greatest enemy. But it’s unclear how much time they actually spent facing him. And there are a lot of details missing. 

But we do have Hutch saying that, according to his mom, it was the Union that betrayed George. So there’s definitely something more to unpack there. 

And then the flashbacks heavily emphasize the conflict between George and Walter. And mostly that plays as two fundamentally good, decent men who just do not get along. With Walter, you sympathize; he’s trying to protect his family and no one listens to him even when he’s making the smart play. Everyone listens to Sheldon over him even when Sheldon is sorta crazy. And you can see how he sorta got over all that, but now its those same issues coming back to make him turn now, that same jealousy that George called him out on back in the 30s. Walter knows what has to happen, Walter knows the smart play, but everyone follows Sheldon, not him so he’s finally gonna do something to dethrone Sheldon. But one of the main things that made Walter more sympathetic than not was the idea that eventually he figured it out. Eventually he’d be loving Uncle Walter, who is by the far the most sensible, patient, empathetic member of the Union. Except that we learn he’s not. 

George on the other hand presents this very entitled, shallow playboy facade and seems to be the one picking fights with Walter more than the other way around. But. The flashbacks repeatedly hit on this other side to George, to show that right underneath that facade is someone very caring, sensitive and empathetic. People just have a hard time seeing it. He makes sure his staff is well taken care of when he loses his money and has to fire them. He opens up to Sheldon about losing his parents and is the one to get through to Sheldon in his grief. He’s the first one to have faith in Sheldon’s visions and goes along with it even when he doesn’t fully believe because he thinks that’s what Sheldon needs. He’s the one who’s mostly responsible for convincing the others to come on the trip to the Island (which makes me wonder if Sheldon’s eroding leadership isn’t mainly because George isn’t there to get other’s to belive in him anymore). He talks about reaching out and trying to connect with Walter multiple times in their past and getting shut down. When they have to each put their hand on the wall to open the portal, its primarily Walter who is the issue, George is one of the first to activate the wall, and while Walter’s addition briefly throws him off, he pretty much instantly is able to push past that, while Walter struggles. When they’re talking about what person they’ve lost they would most want to see, George talks pretty openly about what he would do to see his mother again and it’s Walter who won’t open up at all, who never offers an answer. In fact George’s relationship with his mother is made a point of several times. It’s key to his characterization and its framed around a simple desire to say goodbye to her. Just craving connection and closure. In contrast Walter’s key relationship is to is father and that is framed around wanting to be the favorite child, wanting to be listened to and taken seriously. Walter’s is somewhat bitter and resentful. At its core George’s is childlike. But for most of the season, George’s characterization is colored by what we know (or think we know) from the present-- that eventually George is corrupted and turns on them all. So, it seems, his entitled, vain, reckless side won out in the end. 

Two men with shared relationships, each with two sides to them. George is either conniving and entitled, or loyal and empathetic. Walter is either jealous and controlling, or thoughtful and protective. And all along through the season their present characterization seems to tell us which of the sides won out eventually. George became a villain. Walter became the wisest most trusted member of the Union. But in the end the latter is revealed to be a lie. Walter’s jealousy and desire to control everyone else is stronger than ever to the point that is killing people and has turned on his own brother. And he’s framing George for it. 

It’s possible that the same happened with George. That the two being in conflict with each other for years drove them both to become their worst selves. But it seems more like we’re going to see a total reversal of what was initially established. That George is the one who’s better half won out. But that Walter framed him and convinced the rest of the Union members to turn on him (he’s a mind reader and can manipulate them to an extent as well, it wouldn’t be hard for him). 

Which could mean that the reason George can’t be found is not because he’s hidden himself so well, but because he’s been trapped somewhere by Walter. 

Three additional notes:  1. it may be that Walter turned everyone against George unfairly initially and THEN he kinda turned evil because of it, but his lack of presence in the modern story and the lack of details surrounding his villainy makes me lean away from it 2. The idea that he abandoned Hutch is, I think, important. Because so much of his 30s characterization revolves around being orphaned and never getting that closure with his parents, it seems out of character that he would then abandon his son. (or it’s evidence of how far he’s fallen that he’s become the thing that hurt him most).  3. It doesn’t seem like Walter has been evil for a long time, I think his full turn is very recent. Meaning anything he did to frame or trap George is about the grudge between those two personally, more than being part of a some grand scheme. However, he could have done other smaller scale things in the past that he’s hidden. 

[laurelier]

An anti/former harry fan has made several long blog entries about why harry is not political, just privileged and out of touch. Can we please prove them wrong? It makes me sad.

x/x/x

Listen, like.

Ok. Sigh. Big sigh. Because—here you know what I’m gonna put this under a cut bc frankly I don't wanna clog my blog up with discourse. So. If yal care what I think about this then keep on readin.

Honestly? Honestly. Honestly I know this isn’t what you want to hear but I…….. think this person raises some important points. I don't agree with everything, obviously—I wouldn’t be a fan of Harry if I didn’t see such gracefulness and compassion and strength in him and his work. But. Yeah. Some of this is stuff we should consider.

Here's the thing: personally, I don't necessarily think that H's reputation for quietness on social issues or for making soft statements is as awful as it's made out to be. Would I be elated if he said more? Sure, absolutely. He is so, so, so privileged, and he has such a huge platform. But what I see in him is a careful and thoughtful person who prefers to show solidarity through action or appearance rather than words. Which is, frankly, usually enough for me. I understand why it's not enough for some, but most of the time it is for me: I can take what he does and my interpretation of it and apply the goodness and kindness I see there to parts of my own life.

But really, getting to your actual question, I think this person’s point that if you’re pro-choice but are not willing to make unequivocally damning statements about abortion, you shouldn’t weigh in, is..... a fair one. It's interesting. Like, I don't totally know how I feel about this, to be 100% transparent with you. I don’t think I’d want to entirely gatekeep that conversation, and I want H to be able to express support for his fans in the ways he feels he can and should, but I do see where op is coming from there. Seen from a certain angle, H's statement does feel like a flippant nod to an issue that is very, very, very contentious and painful. And personally, I would appreciate a full-throated denouncement of laws prohibiting abortion from Harry much more than this kind of sort of maybe TPWK thing that we keep getting—but I think we have to remember that that kind of statement is not Harry’s thing. It's not, and hasn't really ever been; Harry’s music is all navel gazing and figuring yourself out, internal rather than external, and I don't think he promises us more than that. I don't think he needs to. And, like I said, I can understand why some would resent him for that, given his immense privilege, but really—Harry’s a human, and no matter what he says or doesn’t say people will scream at him and tell him he’s awful horrible evil or amazing gorgeous perfect, the combination of which has to be incredibly confusing, and not to baby someone who’s been read as a white man his whole life but—I don’t know that I’d want to try to make eloquent and perfectly measured statements on social issues if I were in Harry's position, either. I'd be terrified of my own platform. I just—he’s a person. Let him be one.

Granted, this particular instance is a bit tricky because being pro-choice *is* black and white right-wrong for me, where something like gender or sexuality (other issues he's often demonized for not "speaking out" enough on; utter BS, that) is very much a gray-area ~different for everyone and he'll share when he's ready or able~ type thing, but this idea of entitlement to all of Harry’s opinions and thoughts is still so tiring and frustrating to me. I'd like it if we could just let him figure things out at his own pace.

And, also: listen to what he's saying. Right? Like. He literally never said "abortion". I do think he was making a nod to it, but honest, the way I read that statement originally was—Harry doesn't want anyone to tell *him* what to do with his body. I hear, more than anything, just straight-up bodily reclamation there. Someone had to point out that it could be applied to the Texas law for me to get that part of it. It's layered. I feel like he's letting those who hear him decide what he means (yet again). And I see why someone might take issue with him making a statement that, because it's vague, could be misconstrued (even to the point of being twisted into an antivax statement, but I don't really think that's Harry's fault, it's pretty clear where he stands on that issue)—or see this as him maybe kind of going, eh, let's just throw abortion in there while we're at it as if that's not an issue that would deserve its own statement—I just. That's not what I take from it. And in any case I agree with op, in a twisty turny kind of way: I can't expect my politics to come from Harry Styles. I am a fan of Harry Styles because I think it's awe-inspiring that he shares his shifting, expanding knowledge of himself through his art, always with his trademark, ever-present grace and softness and vulnerability.

Really what it comes down to is. The person whose posts you linked said that his statement, if it's about abortion, is inappropriate because it puts the onus on those people actually harmed by the issue to "fix" it by supporting one another, and again, yeah, I can see why they said that—but I still don't think that's the only way to read it. What I hear when I hear Harry ask us to have one another's backs is: kindness is absolutely foundational, kindness is everything; acting human towards yourself and others, even when others do not, is not weak but is rather an act of defiance and it is very, very brave; is a way of fighting, really, for goodness; this is a world in which we all must take care of one another, and it's courageous to do so. He didn't say all that any more than he made a clear-cut statement about abortion, but still.

Whether H means for all of his equivocation and shallow-seeming statements to have so many interpretations isn't really my concern, at the end of the day. I don't know what's in H's head. What I do know is what his art has done for me—so even though it might sound hard to believe after reading this longass answer that I've written you today, nonnie, I do try to focus on only what I can see of H, remember that he's a privileged human being who, like all of us, is far, far, far from perfect, and not idolize him too much. It's important to encourage accountability for what he doesn't say and maybe should, but equally so to hear what he does.

[mc-critical]

I was curious since you were just talking about Suleyman sisters. Which one is your favourite and what would you change in their storylines? (Me: I would Sah being in love with Ibrahim and her and Hürrem being enemies, because I truly someone from the imperial family liked Hürrem)

I honestly love all of them. Even though they all share a similar purpose in the narrative on the outset (that is, being antagonists to Hürrem), they have distinct motivations and personalities that always succeed to make them so interesting to analyze.

Despite of that, I have to say that my favourite is Hatice. She's the one who felt most fleshed out, with the widest arrays of personality and relationships and I sympathize with her in nearly every level. While I know that S03 Hatice could turn people off and I could understand why in theory (good flanderization is still flanderization after all and her "Heel Face Turn" could feel underwhelming after Hü's huge E63 victory and it lowkey makes for kind of a soft reset of the show's status-quo, but not only I haven't seen this actually being used in arguments against her, but this is solely a writing problem that didn't even originate from her and wasn't totally fixed until the end.), I felt this was the most logical step in her arc and her development made complete sense, no matter how flanderizing it was and how tragic it ended up being. [poor Hatice :(] I have analyzed her character and why I love her so much as well in more detail here.

The one thing I would change is, again, her spending more time with Osman and Huricihan. The need of having kids was set up as a very important part of her character from the beggining and Osman and Huricihan's birth could've felt as a new wave of hope after the devastating child losses. It felt like they were the start of an entirely new chapter of her life where she could enjoy the company of her kids the way she so wanted to, but the birth of Huricihan and Osman ended up being only the finale of Hatice's worries over her children, a satisfying end to these arcs of hers where she could finally find happiness at last and with this it was over. It wasn't built on at all and this whole angle of Hatice's character was seemingly dropped just like that. While I get that her storyline was very densely packed and they may not have had time, they could've given us a few scenes at the very least, especially in S03B where they would play part in empowering even more Hatice's tragic arc, being a reminder of Ibrahim. Not to mention that Huricihan would've been a much better character if that set-up existed.

I adore Şah Sultan, as well and I actually enjoy her dynamic with Hatice even more than her dynamic with Hürrem, because it tells us much more about who she is. It was so enjoyable to watch these two sisters confront each other on not so few instances, while still loving each other. I love how Şah's ambition contrasts so well with her genuine care for the people she loves (like Hatice and Esmahan) and how her pragmatism could actually get in the way of that care, while we could still see that the two coexist in her regardless. It makes her motivation so interesting to figure out in a way we haven't seen before or after with any other character. Her love for Ibrahim.. while yes, I get that it may seem a little weird, putting so much stuff in their past into another context that could draw the line between "this makes sense" and "how exactly did that happen?", it explains why Şah may have this deep seated resentment to Hatice, it is a nicely used plot-device to drive conflict between them (the conflict set-up in their past that is outside of their clash of ideals and philosophies in the present and near future) and her and Lütfi later. It makes her more interesting, too, because it shows her ability to let go of her feelings when she sees is necessary. Her approach is also very interesting and unique (at least at first) and while I find most of her scenes with Hürrem generic, she was a formidable and effective antagonist. I also find interesting that in rewatch, you do see that out of her and Hatice, it's Şah who is more elitist, interestingly enough. (because while Hatice mostly pulls rank out of ignorance or when she's challanged outright, Şah pulls rank not only in confrontation, but in casual conversations with people around her, as well - E87 is a perfect example of this. She also views the dynasty as something even more valuable that shouldn't ever be touched - her not wanting to fight Mihrimah in the end, even though I'm sure she could've outsmarted her if she truly wanted to, she wanted the most out of anyone in S03B for the dynasty members to have each other's backs and support each other no matter what and she was as ready as Hatice to stand behind what the dynasty represents, but not on a more personal level like Hatice, rather on standing behind its laws and traditions, like Ayşe Hafsa.)

What I would change with her, is that intrigue of hers that succeeded to have Hürrem be exiled for the third time. There's nothing wrong with the intrigue neither writing-wise, nor with Şah's character in it, and I kinda appreciate Hürrem's overspending there as a parallel to Mahidevran's overspending in S02, showing that they're not so different after all in a bunch of cases. But otherwise, the whole thing felt like pointless filler that only repeats some aspect of previous storylines. Yet another harem riot, though not as large in scale, and that almost contrived exile, which served nothing in the end (except for showing how Hürrem has gained a decent network of political allies, but that was shown before the exile, too). I would probably make it a far more complex, but still to the point intrigue, the outcome of which sure wouldn't be another exile for an episode. This also wouldn't have been the ending culmination of Şah's careful plans against Hürrem, either. (Ayaz Pasha's death afterwards was relatively quickly planned in comparison! Like.. c'mon..)

Fatma is my least favourite sister of the sisters, but she certainly has her moments. I love her debut and I love how fun loving she is, I sorta wish we saw even more of that. I actually don't recall a moment where Fatma ever pulled rank on someone in the way Hatice in E26 did and Şah so casually does and if there truly isn't any moment like that, then I love her even more for it. What is even more interesting is how her motivation is a promise made to Mustafa (even though this whole motivation is kinda strange writing-wise, since she's an entirely new character and the devotion to Mustafa could look like something the writers only came up with in the heat of the moment for S04A's bad use of flashbacks and to make yet another antagonist for Hürrem... Fatma could've been next to Mustafa when he was a child in Manisa and she liked him as a child, who knows? That coupled with Mahidevran probably reminding him of Fatma's existence, as well.) and how far she's going to go to fulfill it, even after his death. It all showed a side of hers that is willing to put the dynasty members in intrigue (the way she put Selim and Bayezid against one another and even when she played that game on Mihrimah), an interesting contrast with the other sisters, who would do anything but, at least not so consciously. (I'm referring to Şah's very first scheme against Hürrem, in E85-6) I love how she scolded Mihrimah in E121 and I love how they showed her sorrow for Mustafa's death. (that little scene where she said: "I failed.." was so touching, honestly... It shows how devoted she was to it all) Her relationship with Kara Ahmet is also pretty great.

What I would change with her, is her part in the menopause plot. The episode itself is such a weird and tonal mess, but Fatma there was at her worst and I don't agree with her making fun of Hürrem like this. I get the purpose of the episode and scene, but it still sits wrong with me and since that was our first episode with Fatma, it rendered her a little petty for me when I was first watching. I wouldn't have had Fatma tell it out loud for everyone to hear, I would've probably made her show Hürrem she knew in a confrontation similar to Hürrem and Mahidevran's (hey, a part of their formula could work for once!) between both of them during the entertainment. I would have also given her a little more balanced screentime. In some episodes it was very fine, but in others, it felt like she was more shoved into the background.

About Hürrem having at least one dynasty member to like Hürrem - I agree, it would be a breath of fresh air, to say the least, there should've been this kind of variety. If there is one I would make a friend of Hürrem's (at the most part), that would be Beyhan.

I would have given her more screentime, especially in S01-2, she could be there to advice and support her sisters even more and for them to calm down from the games and intrigues. She wouldn't play such a big role in the story, aside from an arc or two that would be different from working against Hürrem. Her and Hürrem would be usually on good terms, since her emotional maturity would let her understand at least a bit of her side of the story and wouldn't be so quick to accuse her. (as she wasn't when she learned of how Hatice learned about Nigar and Ibrahim) Beyhan can't be fully on board with her, of course, because moments where Hürrem tramples on Hatice's happiness directly or indirectly could put them at odds, but I feel Beyhan's personality and shtick would be the best suited for a friendship with Hürrem of sorts. Since she still wouldn't be part of the throne war, Hürrem would have no reasons to act against her personally, either. (now, S03B could be a problem, but then we could... have her return to her castle permanetly?) It would've been epic if Şah had only her dynamic with Hatice in the story, but I don't think that alone would be enough for the writers, because they sure were searching for someone to replace Ibrahim as a more prominent antagonist until S04's switch of focus and enrichment of storylines. 

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[mikauzoran]

Marichat/Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail: Betting Against the House: Chapter Six

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Six: Fidelity

Marinette was so engrossed in her sewing project that Tikki had to inform her that Chat Noir was tapping on her skylight.

“What?” She looked up with a jerk, her stitch going crooked as her hands accidentally moved the material.

“Chat Noir’s here,” Tikki repeated, glancing back up towards the skylight. “Or, he might have just left. I don’t hear him knocking anymore.”

Marinette swore under her breath as she pushed herself up out of the chair and sprang into action, ascending the ladder up to her loft at double her normal speed. She didn’t see him at the window, so she pushed it open and pulled herself up onto her balcony.

He turned around from where he’d been leaning on the balcony railing, taking her in with soft eyes she was more used to seeing as Ladybug.

“Uh…hey,” he greeted, raising a hand tentatively.

“Hey.” She blinked, eyes going to the rose in his other hand. “Is that…?”

She pointed.

He followed her gaze, looking down at his own hand in surprise. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

He lifted the rose, holding it out to her as he timidly advanced. “I think you dropped this—I mean, I know you dropped it. I saw you drop it, but… Did you want it back?”

A cloudy expression set into her face as she stepped forward to take the rose and then stared at it thoughtfully.

It didn’t look like her thoughts were positive ones.

“You don’t have to take it back,” he hurriedly added. “I’ll keep it if you don’t want—”

With a jolt like one suddenly waking in the middle of a dream, Marinette’s gaze whipped around to her right, and she began searching the streets below.

“…Uh… If you’re looking for Adrien Agreste, he’s gone,” Chat informed gently, not all together sure that she was even looking for him in the first place.

Marinette looked back to him in surprise. “He is?”

Chat nodded. “I kind of saw the…er…little scene…between you and him. I was here to see you, and I just happened to catch…whatever that was. Sorry.”

She held up her hands and waved them, seeming to come back fully to the present moment and out of her thoughts. “No, it’s okay. It was…” She winced, biting her lip. “It was nothing. Um… Did you want to come in?”

“May I?” He took a hesitant step forward. “I don’t want to bother you. I heard…” His brow furrowed, and he lowered his voice. “I heard a couple things. Are you feeling okay? I heard you were sick.”

She averted her gaze, her cheeks colouring slightly. “Thanks. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not actually sick. I just…I kind of feel like crap. I probably look like crap,” she laughed ruefully, glancing down at her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt and touching her hair self-consciously.

“You look cute,” he chuckled. “I dig the messy bun.”

She cracked up at that. “Thanks, but it got that way by accident rather than design. It was a fully-functional, respectable-looking bun earlier before I rolled around and pulled on my hair in grief and messed it up.”

He clicked his tongue, waving away her protests. “You’re rocking it, Princess. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

Her lips settled into a soft smile, and she motioned for him to follow her down into her room. “Come in, Minou. I could use a friendly face. For some reason, today, it feels like everyone’s against me.”

“I promise they’re not really,” he attempted to comfort her as they made their way down into her attic bedroom.

She hummed ambivalently, dropping the rose off at her desk before taking a seat on her chaise and gesturing for him to sit at her feet. “Can I play with your hair? Please?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound too eager as he sat between her knees, his back to her.

They sat in silence for a good minute or two, Marinette running her fingers through his hair to comb it and then separating little strands into sections to braid, before she finally spoke up, mumbling, “…Today kind of sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered a little more balefully than made sense since she didn’t know that he was the chief cause of her strife. “Did you feel like talking about it?”

“No. I mean, yeah, but…” She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “It’s complicated.”

He waited a beat, debating before remarking offhandedly, as if he had no personal stake in the matter, “…I hear that Adrien Agreste is persona non grata around here. Apparently he’s dating that awful Lila girl?”

“Lila freaking Rossi,” Marinette hissed. “I don’t know what the heck is the matter with him. How can he just…? She is worse than awful, Chat Noir. She’s a bully and a liar and—ugh. I don’t even,” she growled. “How can he even stand to let her touch him? He knows what she’s like, and still he…he…” Marinette petered out with another “Ugh!” of frustration.

Chat swallowed hard, guilt wrapping its fingers around his heart and squeezing painfully. “Maybe…Maybe there’s some piece to the puzzle that you’re missing,” he suggested cautiously. “Maybe he has a good reason. Maybe he doesn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” she pouted sullenly, her temper cooling somewhat. “He could stand up for himself and say no for once. He’s always been like this, Chat Noir. He never wants to cause trouble, and he always avoids confrontation. He’s spineless.”

Chat winced, feeling the jab slide clean between his ribs and puncture a lung.

“He just appeases everyone and lets them walk all over him. It makes me sick sometimes to watch him cave without a word. I don’t know what I ever saw in him, and I don’t know why I put my faith in him,” she muttered bitterly.

“Maybe it’s more complicated than you think,” he offered in a flimsy attempt at self-defence. “I’m sorry he let you down, Marinette. You’re totally within your rights to be angry, but you can’t know what’s going on inside his head. Maybe he has a good reason, and you’ll feel bad later for being so harsh on him.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She blew out a long sigh, dropping her arms from his hair to loosely hang around his neck and resting her head on top of his. “I’m just really hurting right now, Chaton. He was the one person I thought I could count on in my struggle with Lila, so I’m feeling utterly betrayed,” she whimpered. “It’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when I can’t imagine any circumstance that would compel him to date her.”

Chat closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe through the aching pain in his chest. It killed him to sit there useless while she was hurting—while he was hurting her. But he couldn’t explain himself. She’d insist that he stop, and then what would have been the point of submitting to Lila’s ever-increasing demands over the years?

He had to see this through to the finish.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered helplessly. “I wish I could do something to make it better for you. Know that I would do anything to make it better.”

“Well,” she chuckled halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood. “You could start by not trying to make me behave rationally and think about things from Adrien’s point of view. It would be easier if I could just demonize him and lash out at him with all of my righteous fury.”

“Sorry to take away your scapegoat,” he laughed weakly.

“Yeah,” she teased, giving his hair a little nuzzle. “Whose side are you on, anyway? Mine or his?”

He twisted around to face her, kneeling at her feet and gazing up at her earnestly. “Yours,” he stressed, desperate for her to believe him. “Yours. Always yours, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

She blinked at him, taken aback by his vehemence.

Slowly, a warm, genuine smile danced across her lips, and she leaned in to brush a delicate kiss against his forehead. “Thank you.”

His heart nearly exploded as she pulled back and smiled down at him with a soft look that made him think that maybe he had a chance after all.

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Anytime,” he replied dumbly, struggling to get his brain and his mouth to work in concert. “You’re welcome. Always.”

She laughed—a light, airy sound that made his heart soar—and it was obvious from the smug look on her face that she could tell how smitten he was.

He couldn’t bring himself to care. So what if she knew she had him at her mercy? He trusted her with his heart.

“Wanna play video games?” she inquired, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked at her, his brain still scrambled from the memory of her lips against his skin.

“If you have time,” she hastened to add, nerves flaring up at his lack of a response. “I mean, I know you’re busy what with saving Paris and regular life stuff, but…if you weren’t doing anything, I was supposed to be hanging out with my friends tonight, only that’s not happening because Adrien is a traitor, so if you wanted to hang out, play some Smash Brothers, have dinner with me and my family, snuggle on the couch and watch movies…? I could use the company,” she confessed.

“Yes to all of the above,” he replied enthusiastically, finally getting a handle on how his mouth functioned again.

Adrien was still floating on cloud nine when he returned home several hours later.

 Lila had pressured Adrien into agreeing to come up with a romantic surprise for her in response to Adrien’s claim that Nino had been consulting with Adrien about a surprise for Alya the previous day (since Adrien was, allegedly, so good at that kind of thing), and Adrien did not aim to disappoint.

He escorted Lila to her locker where she found beautiful orange lilies inside.

“Oh, Adrien!” Lila squealed, leaping into his arms and giving his cheek a joyful kiss. “They’re beautiful!”

He couldn’t tell if she were just putting on a show or if she were genuinely pleased with the gift.

She was certainly satisfied with the response of the other students as they cooed and raved about how sweet Adrien was, what a cute couple he and Lila made.

Marinette stood apart from the others, looking on in a mix of resentment and pensiveness.

Adrien wondered if she knew anything about the meanings of flowers. If so, she might know that orange lilies were not a nice gift. Perhaps she was wondering if Adrien knew the implications of the flowers he had given his girlfriend.

She caught him gazing at her and turned away, going to her own locker. Once there, she gave a start, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she spotted the sunflowers, tucked inside and waiting for her with a little note attached.

Adrien’s heartbeat quickened a little at the pleased smile gracing her lips and the rosy blush rising in her cheeks.

Alya was the first to notice Marinette’s surprise and draw the attention of the others.

“What’s this, Girl? A secret admirer?” she trilled excitedly.

“Alya, don’t—” barely made it past Marinette’s lips as Alya swiped the card and read aloud, “‘For my Princess. I hope these sunflowers brighten your day, even though they’re not half as radiant as you are. Much love from your not-so-secret admirer.’”

The girls chattered excitedly all at once, completely forgetting about Lila to join in the speculation about Marinette’s mystery boy.

Lila turned a venomous glare on Adrien, hissing dangerously under her breath, “Your ‘Princess’, is she? You did this on purpose to upstage me, didn’t you?”

Adrien frowned, leveraging all of his acting skills to feign wounded innocence. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. Those flowers aren’t from me.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed, scanning him intently.

“He’s just a friend,” Marinette insisted over the din of her friends. “Just a close friend that I play video games online with. He’s a total flirt. He’s not even serious. He knows I had a rough day yesterday, and he was just trying to cheer me up.”

The girls didn’t seem to buy Marinette’s story entirely, but her persistent denials seemed to mollify all but Alya.

“Oh, Honey. I think he’s serious, even if you’re not,” Alya hummed skeptically, pitying the poor boy who had fallen for her rather oblivious best friend.

The other girls joined in with sympathetic hums of their own.

Adrien turned to Lila. “I feel like you owe me an apology for your accusations of infidelity.”

“How about not?” Lila growled quietly, shoving her books roughly into Adrien’s arms as she continued to seethe over Marinette inadvertently stealing the spotlight.

 The week stretched on with, luckily, only a few minor incidents to mark it.

Marinette continued to hold a grudge against Adrien, but she was more than happy to spend her evenings with Chat Noir.

He was glad that he could help her feel less alone, even if it were just in some small way, and the time he passed with her was a balm for him too.

It was a relief, after dealing with Lila’s ever-increasingly ridiculous demands all day, to cuddle and watch Disney and Studio Ghibli movies with Marinette, to bake cookies together, to play niche video games, or just to sit in her room working on separating things but enjoying the other’s presence.

Nino kept giving Adrien worried glances, looking like he was this close to saying something several times a day.

It made Adrien sick with anxiety.

He shouldn’t have told Nino. It felt like he had the sword of Damocles hanging over his head and never knew when it would drop, when Nino would break his promise and try to tell everyone about Lila, ruining years’ worth of Adrien’s sacrifices and hard work to protect Marinette.

If Nino asked him if he were okay one more time, Adrien was going to cry.

All he could do was lie and say he was fine, all the while knowing that Nino knew he was lying.

“Just don’t say anything to anyone,” Adrien kept repeating, and Nino would nod, assuring, “Yeah. No. I won’t.”

But Adrien could see the way Nino tensed around Lila, how he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes whenever she invaded Adrien’s personal space or asked him to do things for her.

The week was rough and already wearing Adrien down by the end of it.

He felt sick with guilt over hurting Marinette and sick with fear about when Nino was going to crack and spill the beans. That wasn’t even taking into account the hell Lila was putting him through.

Lila was steadily getting worse. She was growing bolder with her public displays of affection to the point where Adrien was genuinely uncomfortable.

The casual touches and the expectation of cheek kisses had quickly crossed the line. More than anything, he was sick of the sensation of Lila clinging to him. The constant contact and her weight and her warmth made his skin crawl. He couldn’t wait for evening to come so his personal space could be his own again to share (or not share) as he saw fit.

Adrien had always been a little touch-starved, but, now, physical contact was something he found himself recoiling from, sometimes even with Marinette.

On the third day, Lila made Adrien move to the back of the class to sit with her, and it was torture to be separated from his friends. Classes had been a brief reprieve from Lila’s presence, an oasis where he didn’t have to think about her for hours at a time, but, now, even that solace was stolen from him.

He missed passing notes with Nino and the little sweets his best friend would often share.

Adrien had considered it a victory when, the previous year, he’d convinced his father to allow him to eat lunch at school with his friends. Now, he found himself wishing he could go home for lunch again because Lila had gotten it into her head that she needed to sit on Adrien’s lap and that they needed to feed one another to show what a lovey-dovey couple they were.

Adrien was quickly finding that he had little appetite during the day. He scarfed down leftover baked goods from Tom and Sabine’s as well as whatever the Dupain-Chengs had for dinner in the evenings when he visited Marinette, but he couldn’t keep much down during the day.

The smell of Lila’s cloyingly sweet floral perfume made him feel nauseated.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he was certain that something had to give, and soon.

He was afraid it was going to be him.

Adrien was at his breaking point, so maybe that’s why, when Ladybug asked what was wrong that Sunday on patrol, he gave in so easily and spilled his guts to her.

[specterchasing-a]

Let The Words Fall Out || Alfie & Eddie

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @yikesimonfire & @specterchasing

SUMMARY: Eddie heads over to Alfie’s apartment during a time when they could both use the company. One thing leads to another, and Eddie decides to be honest for both of their sakes. 

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia tw

There was no reason for Eddie to risk climbing from one balcony to another. Alfie agreed to let him come over, and would likely answer the door for him if he knocked. But his legs were already dangling on either side of the conjoined railing by the time he realized his options. At any rate, the balcony route felt more familiar to Eddie, something he appreciated now more than ever. He preferred things this way. It almost felt normal.

“Hey,” he greeted his neighbor as he slid the glass door open. Usually, his arrivals came with more panache, but recent events watered down his usual flair. Eddie considered Alfie for a moment, a sad smile pursing his lips. As expected, the atmosphere between them felt different now. He didn’t want it to, but when had he ever gotten a say in that sort of thing, anyway?

“So, we’re clear to be total bummers today, right?” Eddie questioned as he plopped down beside Alfie on the couch. “‘Cause, I gotta admit, I’m gonna have trouble if we’re supposed to play happy.”

“Hey,” Alfie croaked in response. After he told Eddie to come over, he’d taken up his usual spot on the couch. Waiting. His palms were sweaty by the time the other man sauntered in; fists clenched hard enough that his short nails bit into his skin. There was no denying that Alfie had a tendency to be rigid — standoffish, even — but the way he held himself now was something Eddie very rarely experienced. Halloween 2017, to be precise, not that Alfie was even remotely thinking about that now. No, he was too busy wondering if he was making too much (or too little?) eye-contact to be worried about how tense the rest of his body was. 

As Eddie joined him on the couch, Alfie forced a laugh and slackened his shoulders a considerable amount. The tension was still present, but with any luck it wasn’t noticeable. “Total bummers,” he agreed. “I couldn’t fake something like that right now, anyway. Not going to ask you to do it.”

Alfie’s lips pressed into a tight line as he glanced at Eddie. The sad look in his eyes reminded him of the last time they were alone together. Since then, Alfie’s jealousy had shed its skin to reveal tatters of guilt and sadness beneath. Did it show? 

“This whole Nell thing, it — it’s been rough.” Far worse than it would have been if things were normal between him and Eddie.

Eddie noticed as tension faded from Alfie’s frame, same as he noticed some of it remained. So, this was the new normal: fake laughs, forced eye contact, and regret. He felt the familiar itch to reach out and touch him in a way he hoped would be soothing, but he couldn’t do that anymore. It meant something different now, something less harmless. Eddie felt an awful surge of jealousy for the man he used to be, the one who could place a hand on Alfie’s arm and feel warmth instead of guilt. Now, he had to settle for busying his hands by twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie said with a nod. He couldn’t look at Alfie for too long, not when every glance felt like prodding at open wounds. “I think I’m still in shock.” His mind was filled to the brim with rapidly swimming thoughts that picked at his peace of mind like underfed piranhas. It was all too much, too much to keep to himself.

“You can still talk to me about anything,” Alfie told him earlier in the day via text. Eddie desperately wanted to believe him, so he took a leap of faith.

“Bex is missing too,” Eddie blurted. “I think she is, anyway. Either that, or ignoring me.” He resented himself for not knowing which option he preferred. “And… something else happened too.” His eyes closed tightly for a moment as he recalled his conversation with Morgan. When they opened, his gaze turned to Alfie. He ignored how badly it hurt.

“I think I’m making a mistake, Alfie,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alfie bobbed his head in agreement. These days, he was all too familiar with the feeling of ‘shock’. Eddie and Bex. Eddie in his office. Nell’s strange behavior. Nell’s disappearance. Just because he could count it on one hand didn’t make any of it less disconcerting. “Bex is missing too.” Five fingers now.

“Oh,” Alfie very nearly whispered. Of course. Everything was always about Bex. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise. If he wanted to maintain a friendship with Eddie, he would have to get over hearing about her. Eddie needed him to; that’s what friends were for.

A sixth metaphorical finger was raised when the words “I think I’m making a mistake” fell from Eddie’s lips. Alfie’s brow raised, his head turning slightly towards Eddie with a look of confusion — and concern — etched into his features. “I don’t think they’re related,” he began slowly, careful of the words he chose. As far as Alfie was aware, Bex wasn’t part of Nell’s search-and-rescue mission. “But, with all of these portals opening and closing, I—” A soft sigh escaped him before his knees turned inward to Eddie’s own. “I can’t imagine she’s ignoring you, Eddie.” He wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t if he were Bex — if Eddie was his boyfriend. “Why would she?” he murmured instead. 

Alfie didn’t understand, but Eddie couldn’t blame him. Vague confessions rarely led to clarity, and the amount of information he dumped in his lap only made things murkier. He needed to choose his words more carefully to make sure he didn’t do more harm than he already had. Eddie nervously ran his fingers through his hair as he fell back against the couch. 

“No,” he said unhelpfully, shaking his head lightly as he recalibrated. “I mean, plenty of reasons, actually.” Morgan supplied him with a thorough explanation as to why Bex might cut ties with him. Bex didn’t seem to agree with her, but she didn’t have a view of the full picture, and Eddie trusted Morgan enough not to divulge a secret like his. Not yet, he hoped. If he was lucky, he still had time to prove he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“But that’s…. I think something else is going on, something worse.” With Bex, the safe bet was always on the worst case scenario. “And that should be all I’m worried about. She’s my girlfriend, I should be consumed with concern, and—and I am.” He nodded as he spoke, relieved that the words felt true. “But there’s more to what I’m worried about than a few missed messages.” Eddie’s appreciation for his own honesty already started to wane.

“Last time I saw you in person, you said I owed it to myself to try being with her.” Eddie’s gaze fell onto Alfie again. “Let’s be honest, you only said that because it’s what you thought I wanted to hear, and you weren’t… wrong, but…” He trailed off, scanning Alfie’s face as silence overtook the conversation for the time being. Eddie found comfort in the familiar lines and curves he observed. He let out a breath. “This isn’t right,” he said. “I’m being selfish by making her play a part in the lies I tell myself.” Fear rooted itself in his eyes as he realized there was no coming back from what he was about to say. “Alfie, I’m gay.”

It was physically impossible, but Alfie was certain that his heart leapt out of his throat at Eddie’s confession. The words preceding it were a rollercoaster of emotions; sadness, jealousy, empathy, and a hint of regret. Of course Eddie was worried about Bex. After all, they were friends when Alfie first met her and he knew firsthand what it was like to be concerned for someone’s well being that he cared for platonically. In one fell swoop, whatever jealousy he felt towards Bex and Eddie’s relationship dissipated. Of course. Everything Eddie said weeks ago suddenly clicked. He shouldn’t have been so relieved. It was selfish to think that this changed anything, though. At the end of the day, Eddie was still just his friend and he needed to support him now more than ever.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Alfie offered a small smile. “Me too,” he blurted, a gentle laugh trailing behind. “You… already knew that.” His eyes searched Eddie’s for a moment as he wracked his mind for something more substantial. But words never came easy for Alfie — something Eddie was well aware of by now. Desperate to fill the silence, Alfie reached out and tentatively squeezed Eddie’s upper arm, never breaking their shared gaze. 

“I’m proud of you, Ed,” he dared to say. “I— I know that doesn’t make anything less terrifying for you, but I am, if that counts for anything.”

The fear in Eddie’s eyes shifted into relief upon hearing Alfie’s response. He let out a soft laugh that mixed with a restrained sob in the back of his throat. He didn’t expect to be met with rejection or scorn, not from Alfie, but he didn’t think comfort would be possible so soon. His gaze fell to their laps momentarily as his body relaxed. He was safe, he was okay, if only within the walls that surrounded him. That was enough, for now. His eyes quickly reclaimed their connection with Alfie’s, exuding voiceless gratitude as silence reintroduced itself. Eddie didn’t mind the quiet, for once.

His gaze flickered to Alfie’s hand as it reached for his arm before he leaned into the contact as much as he comfortably could, as if pleading for it to not end.

To say Alfie’s next words caught him off-guard would be an understatement. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time someone told him they were proud of him. Surely, this wasn’t the first time some expressed pride in him, but it felt an awful lot like a first. Tears bloomed in his eyes, two or three adventurous drops spilling down his cheeks, as he stared at Alfie with unbridled admiration. 

“You have no idea, do you?” he asked quietly. Eddie understood Alfie underestimating how important he was, but he wouldn’t abide by it. “Out of everyone I know, there isn’t anyone else I would rather hear say that to me.” Alfie ranked higher than Eddie’s parents when it came to people he wanted to impress; higher than anyone else he’d ever met. “You are the most important person in my life, Alfie, hands down. If it wasn’t for you, I might not even know this part of me existed.” Eddie realized he might be getting a little ahead of himself and took a moment to recover. “Not saying that I think you’re the reason I’m gay, pretty sure that would’ve been a thing either way, but… the way I feel about you, have felt about you, makes it a little less terrifying. With you, it just feels so natural, y’know? Like taking a breath, or checking the weather. How I feel about you shows me that I’m not broken, because who in their right mind could get to know you the way I do and not feel this way?”

“I am still scared, and I don’t know what’s next, but I do know that I’m an idiot for ever thinking this is something I could run from, or that I wanted to run from it in the first place.” Eddie’s voice shook as he spoke, exposing his lack of confidence, but he persisted in spite of doubt. “Being with Bex showed me how rare whatever it is that’s between us is, and it’s also shown me how much it hurts to live without it. I don’t wanna trade you in for something the world expects from me, not when I have a chance at being happy with someone who makes me feel like there’s a future worth sticking around for.”

The tears in Eddie’s eyes warned Alfie that he said something wrong, but his facial expression told a completely different story. His first instinct was to brush the tears away, although he questioned whether or not it was appropriate. Before he had a chance to decide what was proper, Eddie began showering him with compliments that rendered him speechless. Alfie’s brow knit together and his eyes searched Eddie’s face, as if he’d find more truth there than the words being spoken. As much as he wanted to believe each syllable that spilled from Eddie’s painfully beautiful lips, his mind was clouded with disbelief.

“How?” Alfie finally uttered with a small shake of his head. “After the way I’ve treated you, Eddie? I— How?” A knot formed in his throat as Eddie spoke and it kept his own thoughts from bubbling to the surface. “After that?” After the conversation in Eddie’s apartment. After he dodged straightforward answers with someone he considered his best friend? After years of playing hot and cold, all because he didn’t know how to cope with his feelings for Eddie? 

The hand against Eddie’s arm was quickly displaced to brush his hair back as remorse replaced the look of bewilderment on Alfie’s face. “You don’t deserve that— you didn’t— you never did,” he warbled. Soon after, his fingers moved away from Eddie’s face and reclaimed its position against his arm. “You’re right. I told you to try it with Bex because I thought that’s what you wanted to hear — because you were upset, and I’d already made it so much worse by not being supportive. Because you deserve something — someone good. Someone that makes you happy, and I…” Tears stung at his own eyes as he choked over his words. “I made everything worse, so how…? How?”

Considering the man he just confessed his love to was Alfie Ramirez, Eddie should have seen disbelief on the horizon. Even under the guise of friendship, getting Alfie to accept a compliment felt more like pulling teeth than telling someone they looked nice. It broke Eddie’s heart, the way he never saw himself as a person worthy of being told how phenomenal he was. And, he really was phenomenal. Despite their past and the way Alfie made Eddie question his significance, he kept hanging onto their friendship because the moments he knew Alfie valued him made uncertainty worth it when it reappeared.

“Do you have any idea how much hell I would raise if you pulled the same stunt I did?” Eddie asked with a shake of his head. His hand raised with a thumb extended and ready to wipe away Alfie’s tears. He sometimes forgot how priceless the small beads of liquid were, but that could be blamed on Alfie’s emotional state outweighing all else in his mind. If he could, Eddie would forge a future where Alfie never felt the need to cry again. “The whole town would burn.”

“You earned that reaction,” Eddie insisted. After a moment of nervous hesitation, his hand gently repositioned to cup Alfie’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not saying I deserved how it made me feel or anything, but I think both of us were justified in how we acted, don’t you? So, maybe we weren’t graceful about it. Oh, well, this is life, not The Nutcracker.” He shrugged softly as his thumb gingerly brushed back-and-forth against Alfie’s skin. His heart raced faster than usual, the anxiety of his confession still present, but he willed himself to remain in the moment he currently shared with Alfie. There would be time to worry later. Now, he needed to play his part in making sure they landed on their feet after weeks of free-falling.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re perfect. Stubborn, self-deprecating, reclusive, and you have the worst diet I’ve ever seen, but still perfect.” It felt freeing to admit to Alfie how he felt about him without worrying his secret might be discovered. Without the burden of stealth, Eddie felt more like himself than he had in a very long time. “All you’ve ever done is given me something to look forward to, whether it was feeling you close to me or hearing you say my name like you wanted to strangle me. I’ve never cared much either way because, deep down, I know what our foundation is built on.” And that was love. Now that he was free to be himself, it seemed like he couldn’t stop from overflowing with all the words that had been left unsaid over the years. It made him feel both excited and uneasy at the same time.

The notion that all of White Crest would be reduced to ash if Alfie got into a relationship elicited a chuckle from him. No matter how emotionally-charged the conversation was, Eddie still managed to make him laugh. The bastard. His eyes closed at the sensation of Eddie’s thumb against his cheek and he let out a content hum. It felt surreal. 

Naturally, Eddie wasn’t finished with his typical comic relief; something Alfie was more than happy to oblige. “For the record, Doritos are cholesterol free and have two whole grams of protein.” His lashes fluttered open as he shot Eddie an impish grin. But even in the midst of their banter, Eddie found a way to keep them on topic. 

Alfie wasn’t keen on believing everything the other man said about him, expertly deflecting each compliment with humor instead. That had always been their normal, after all. Even in high school, well before their friendship blossomed beyond acquaintanceship, passing comments from Eddie were brushed off with nervous laughter and self-deprecating jokes. During their more recent years as neighbors, Eddie came to know him better than most; arguably, better than anyone else in his life. But no matter how much more sincere the compliments became, Alfie could never fully accept them. He’d run the risk of falling for Eddie if he did, not that he was at all successful at delaying the process. 

For the first time, Alfie allowed himself to lean in to Eddie’s touch, turning his cheek towards the hand pressed against it. His breath quivered as a cocktail of emotions coursed through him; excitement, nervousness, relief. “Can we just… stay like this?” he said finally, still reluctant to accept Eddie’s songs of praise. He wanted to relish the moment without worrying about Nell or his curse — or worse yet, Bex. Right. Bex. Savoring the moment was a fool’s errand so long as she was still technically in the picture. This was fleeting — even if only for the time being. 

Eddie tittered at Alfie’s Dorito-inspired interjection. “In that case, I take it back, your diet is clearly the best it can be,” he said with a matching grin. If he wasn’t mistaken, things were beginning to feel like they did before the night at the bar. Better, actually, when he thought about it. Now, nothing stood between them except for his unfortunate relationship status. Eddie felt queasy at the idea of explaining to Bex why he couldn’t be with her, but he knew it needed to happen sooner rather than later. When he heard from her next (he couldn’t cope with thinking in terms of ‘if’), he would set the record straight. And he knew someone who could help him do exactly that, if that bridge hadn’t been reduced to ashes, at least.

When Alfie asked if they could stay the way they were with his cheek pressing into the palm of Eddie’s hand, the urge to kiss him was undeniably strong. He managed to refrain by promising himself to make up for lost time in the future.

“Of course, we can,” Eddie said as if it were obvious. “Just not yet.” His hand parted with Alfie’s cheek as he moved forward to wrap his arms around him. Clinging to him on the couch made for a mildly awkward position, but it was worth it to feel him close. “I know I’ve already kept you waiting for too long, but I need a little more time to clean up the mess I made. I don’t want anything I’ve done to take away from good this is.” His face nestled into the crook of Alfie’s neck. “I know exactly what I have to do.”