#novel readers are probably laughing at my theories

[stepmarchen]

Do you think Jeremy might be the one to find some sort of loophole or something to get him and Shuri cleared of all charges during the Holy Trial? Like we’ve seen how far he’s come since that first trial (and other characters have pointed it out as well!) and I’m pretty sure Jeremy had thought like “I’ll just have to find my own way forward, just like my tiny magical mother” or something during his talk with Nora about the necklace Theobald sent. It would make his character come full circle, from needing Shuri to get him out of legal trouble to Jeremy saving them from legal trouble.

hmmm i don't know! but that's a pretty fun possibility! I like the idea of Jeremy's growth showing itself in the form of reliving a similar experience. It totally ties in with the rebirth themes of ASM. I'd love to see Jeremy getting his moment of protecting Shuri in a way he couldn't do before (like Nora and his goal to make Shuri smile).

As of yet, all we know is that the church has ordered a holy trial against Jeremy and Shuri for having alleged incestuous relations. I'm not sure if there are any loopholes for parent/child love affairs... other than Shuri being their known adoptive mother.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Theo will end up involved in this trial somehow, and will make things take a turn for the worse. An affair with the Crown Prince on top of Jeremy and Nora would make Shuri look reaaaalllllly promiscuous. And that might be the Church's 2nd goal.

There was some foreshadowing with Lucas making comments about Shuri's wall of male protectors. Not to mention, he spilled a bunch of information about Shuri during his torture session with the holy knight. I'd assume that Lucas is the reason why the Church got their hands on the rumors in the first place.

Part of me wants Lucas to come back and have Shuri's back in an unexpected show of sibling love that we've seen hints of. And another part of me wants Nora to just swoop in and propose to Shuri during the trial. Everything's still such a big mystery and I have no idea how the trial will go down.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[feinv]

Okay but John Wick and mutual pining makes my brain go brrr. Maybe he is hesitant to act on his feelings because she is his friend's daughter and there's age difference and she is just too sweet, so he doesn't want to drag her into this whole assassin thing. And she has feelings too, but is hesitant because doesn't think she is good enough or doesn't think he's interested, so they're just pining, longing, yearning and he's slowly going crazy

anon😫 stop this madness.

dbf!john wick x fem!reader. fluff. mutual pining. legal age gap (whatever u wanna imagine).

it took him a while to realize what was happening. and when it clicked in his head that he was sweet on you, he cursed himself in the mirror for being a literal fool and letting his guard down. but you were just…so sweet and kind, and a literal goddess in his eyes. he was ready to worship the ground you walked on. you two weren’t even a thing and he was already doing exactly that.

you would think a man like him would be looking for a wife, and you are definitely not mature enough to be one, but even that wouldn’t stop you from having feelings because he is just so perfect, and always treats you like no men ever did, straight out of a romance novel. :( john would be thinking the opposite. you were so young and probably wanted to experience life and have fun, so why would you even need and old man like him.

obviously your dad doesn’t know about his affection towards you, so he always tries to find you a partner and john is like. “i did my digging on him. he is an addict,” because he simply cares for his best friends daughter in a platonic way, nothing else.

during family gatherings you would either sit next to each other, or directly in front, exchanging silent glances. when he is next to you, he would accidentally brush his fingers against your thigh, knees touching, resting his arm on your chair, behind your back. and he sees you turning into a crimson puddle. he keeps himself a little sane by excusing that you’re just a shy thing and that’s your personality, but deep down he wants knows he is the one making you feel butterflies.

after the dinner when everyone is sort of hanging out in their own way, you two would always find each others company. he used to think he wasn’t built for long conversations, but what a surprise was it to him that he just needed the right person. and it was you.

he was so mesmerized with you because not only were you the prettiest human being he has ever seen, but you were also so intelligent and well read despite your young age. he would catch himself discussing books he was convinced only he has read, but you were always so full of interesting ideas and theories he just couldn’t help but stare at you lovestruck.

there would be moments where you two would just stare at each other in a comfortable yet intimately tense silence, wanting nothing more than to just kiss one another. he couldn’t bring himself to do the first move unless he had your consent. and you definitely wouldn’t lean first and make a fool out of yourself. so you and john would share mute and desperate glances like two idiots before one of you would start up yet another random topic for a discussion.

this man would always make you giggle, laugh and smile to the point that your cheeks would be hurting, while he would feel himself slowly descending into madness with every passing day in which he couldn’t call you his.

[gordonradiotv]

A (Long Overdue) Celebration

Ah, hello, Readers!

It's Jox again! Some of you probably knew me as "Toony" back in the day, but it's been a looong while since I used that name. And it's been a long while since this blog ended!

On May 23rd, 2020 I started this little ask blog not expecting it to become much. But because of all of you, it blew up into something absolutely incredible! I wish I had the words to describe how this blog changed my life. I met my fiance because of this blog. I met lifelong friends. I gained the confidence to pursue independent passion projects like my webcomic Tip The Ferrymen and others. It's kinda insane to think a tumblr ask blog based on the haha funny HL youtube series would've had such an impact on my life.

So, I wanted to do something to celebrate the blogs 4 anniversary! Unfortunately we are a bit late to the mark due to some wild stuff that happened earlier this year, but better late than never! But finally it is done and finally Tumblr let me actually upload these lmfao. Without further ado, I want to announce:

GordonRadioTV's Soundtrack has been FULLY remastered!

With help from my lovely creative partner and fiance @stygiuscantus , the soundtrack for this blog has been fully remastered! Now, you can experience the whole story again with a fresh coat of paint. The tracks are also available on Selene's bandcamp, they're "pay what you want" as well! If you want to support Selene's work, here's a good place to do it!

I am also aware that some of you may be disappointed that the old tracks are gone, but for extremely private reasons that I will not be disclosing I no longer feel comfortable having those tracks up on this blog. To me, this is a fresh start to a project I hold dear to my heart and allows me to experience it all over again. I have loved every moment of working with Selene and she has put so much heart and effort into this, so cheers to new beginnings!

Selene herself also wanted to say a few words, which are included here:

"Four years ago, a friend of mine linked a little blog called GordonRadioTV in one of our Discord servers. Being fixated on HLVRAI at the time, I quickly checked it out, only for it to genuinely, actually make me laugh. I think I read all of the chapters up to that point (up to 3, I think?) in one go, because it was such a novel storytelling medium to me, and I was immediately enraptured. Little did I know that this little funny Half-Life blog would quite literally change my life, introducing me to new friends, inspiring me to experiment with my own art forms, and helped me find the love of my life, to whom I now life with together and am engaged to. Whenever Jox needed a new composer, I jumped in to help on short-notice, giving myself a brief crash-course on music theory to do so. I started this project months ago in the hopes that I would get it done in time for the anniversary, but, well, making 20 tracks takes a long time. I tried to put a lot of thought and love into each track, with each character having their own instrumental motif, and even some melodic motifs (namely for Gordon and Benrey). I truly hope that all of you like it; I am honored to be a part of the legacy of something that's so important to me."

-Selene Highchurch

Thank you all for everything. I have said it a million times, and I wish I had a new way to phrase it, but this blog means so much to me. This project means so much. Your support means so much to me. These stories are mine as much as they are yours, so much of this story wouldn't have existed without your participation. Thank you for being here. Thank you for playing.

And to alter the words of a certain scientist...

You've changed my life, everyone. I'd like to think it was for the better.

I don't know whats going to happen to us once this blog is done for good, but I know I'll never forget you. I hope you won't forget me.

Well...This is where I get off.

Goodbye, Readers!

[illumose]

No way out - chapter two

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PAIRINGS : female reader x dean winchester • female reader x platonic! sam winchester

⋆⭒˚.⋆ SUMMARY OF THE SERIES / masterlist of the series

She’s been stuck in this town for a year. A whole year of creatures roaming at night in search of a human stupid enough to go out. There was no way out. All the inhabitants tried to flee at some point but the road always drew them back to the dinner. Yet, she’s still holding onto the hope of getting out and the two men who arrived in a 1967 Impala might be her only chance.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ SUMMARY OF THE CHAPTER

The first night in town is always rough but the newbies seem more intrigued than scared. She wonders whether it is the first time they come across monsters.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ WARNINGS .ᐟ.ᐟ : mentions of madness?

author's note : you can be added if you want to! Also, it's a slow chapter because I need to set up the universe before the action gets more intense.

wordcount: 1.1K

CHAPTER TWO: first night, first doubts

Every night, she has a routine. She never goes against it. First, she locks all the doors and windows. Then, she places the talisman above the door. This way, she knows that they cannot come in. Next, she covers up all the windows with old sheets found in the basement. It's not a matter of protection but of sanity. Whenever she sees one of them, she internally freaks out. They look disturbingly too human for her liking. That's also how they trap people. Sometimes, they put on a show, acting hurt or needing companionship. Some will be insensitive to this, others will fall for it.

Once everything task is completed, she makes herself a cup of hot cocoa and goes upstairs to her bedroom where she'll spend an hour reading a thriller novel. Sleep does not come easy. She always fears one will be smart enough to find a way in. At around midnight, she'll fall asleep but never fully. Her mind enters a nightmarish world where all her dearest friends die, one by one. 

This time, she's got two disruptive elements to her routine. Dean camps out in the living room, his eyes glancing at the darkness outside and the weird creatures roaming. As for Sam, he's eager to help and follows her around. She already likes him. 

"How does the talisman work?" asks Sam, an eyebrow raised. His fingers barely touch it, as if he were afraid to disarm its magical proprieties. 

Her eyes linger on the symbols engraved on the rock. She knows their strokes by heart. She remembers a bold woman, called Sadie. She had strongly believed that carving the symbols on her body would suffice to keep the creatures away from her as she tried to escape from the forest. The next day, Jade and Boyd had found her body, or whatever was left of it, in the pasture. 

"No one truly knows. It needs to be hanged above the front door to be effective. Boyd once survived in a car with this. Somehow, if all the doors and windows are closed, they cannot come in. That's my only source of comfort if you wanna know. Without this talisman, we'd all be dead by now."

She has no true explanation to give. It's all a mystery, so far. No one knows anything. They come up with theories but there's never an answer. 

Dean's head bends a little. He's looking directly at the red-headed man. 

"Don't mind this one, he's the biggest piece of shit I've ever encountered," she says.

He lets out a little laugh. "Given his weird-ass smile, I get it. He seems pretty curious to see newcomers, though."

She sighs, "he probably thinks that new food has arrived." The red-head creature is a constant in her nightmares. He's the one slashing Kenny's throat and ripping Jade's heart from his ribcage. 

"He's not the weirdest thing I've seen." Dean shuts the blinds abruptly, his head shaking. 

She wonders what he meant by that. They don't seem scared, and it's practically impossible to be calm on the first night. She's never seen newcomers accept the situation with this much tranquility and peace of mind. They should be pacing around the house, shoulders trembling and tears dripping down. 

"How about a card game? To take our minds off all of this," suggests Sam. He takes out a small pack of cards from his pocket. 

She nods. They sit around the kitchen table. President is the game she used to play with her grandpa. It reminds her of his house, a small trailer parked in a pasture. Real estate developers tried many times to buy out this plot of land, yet her grandpa never budged. It was his land. She remembers the crickets and the humming of the birds every morning. Here, they don't have this. Animals stay silent. She barely sees birds. 

Dean wins the first round. He's quite good at this game, and he becomes incredibly cocky. "Perhaps we should stop here, for your own sake, Sam."

"Says the man who cried when his favorite singer," mocks the brunette. "I'd say your luck is running out". 

It's been so long since she felt a sense of normalcy. Seeing the two brothers argue and snicker at each other's answers brings warmth to this house that often feels lifeless. 

"I've got a question," says the blond out of the blue. "Where do they go when the sun sets?"

She bites her lip. Boyd's goal was to explore the forest and find their hideout. It's never been done so far because of the multiple disruptions: newcomers, deaths, fights between drunkards at Jesse's bar.

"Victor, one of the oldest inhabitants, thinks that they live in caves deep under the ground. It does make sense."

"Like vampires," he laughs a little bit too heartily. 

"If only," she sighs. Vampires bite you in the neck. They don't tear your limbs and rip out organs. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ Breakfast at the diner equals homemade pancakes and generous drizzles of maple syrup. Dean's eyes almost came out when he saw the stack of pancakes. He's now indulging in the sweetness of blueberries grown by his roommate. 

"It's pretty insane that fruits can grow here, one could think that the earth was cursed, too," says Sam. 

"Gardening's our only activity. We plant new seeds every week to ensure we get food all year round. Donna's always improving the communal garden up at the Colony house." 

Jade comes by the table, his hands full with his notebook where he scribbles the same symbol over and over. He's gone a little mad, recently. He sees things. He hears things. 

"We need you to…." he sizes up the newcomers, not knowing whether to trust them or not. "To come after breakfast. Boyd's got an idea but Kenny's against it. They want a fresh set of eyes." 

"I'll be there in a minute. You look terrible, though. Is Kenny keeping you up all night?" She giggles. Jade rolls his eyes but a small grin replaces his constant frown. 

"Living with him is torture enough," he counters, stealing a pancake from her plate.

Dean stares at the music box on the table, and then at Jade's silhouette walking down the street. 

"Are they all… disturbed like this?" 

"This town messes with your mind. I can't count the number of people who've gone mad. Hell, I almost did."

"I didn't peg you for the weak type." Coming from Dean, this is probably a sort of twisted praise. 

She stands up and straightens her skirt. She's not weak. None of them are. It's this town. It changes you. It makes you vulnerable. "We're not alone and that's our strength." 

taglist: @callsign-ember

[hyuneskkami]

02 ✦ pushing me further, pulling me closer, some sorta chemistry ? ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : hdjwjdjjs this part took a while to post even tho I had all the content ready, sorryyyy 😭🙏 also the fluff in this chapter is so cute, if I do say so myself hehe. look forward to the next chapter too (: ! plus, since this series is only a five-part fic, everything is much more fast paced than I wanted it to be. so i’ll probably end up writing bonus scenes for backstories or the aftermath of the ending (: anywayy, hope you enjoy mls ilysm <3 thanks for reading 🩶

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : oc (jae-won) to add some drama , oc (ae-ri) : y/n’s best friend at her school , fake dating , hyune and reader attend prep school , holding hands , swearing a little bit (‘bitch’) , name-calling (‘loser’) , mention of hyune meeting reader’s parents , unserious talks about marriage and blessings , best friend!hyunjin , non-idol au , high school au , f!reader , best friends who do more-than-best-friends things , fluff , smart!hyune x smart!reader , cutesy hand holding , banter ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.9k

DAY #02 . . .

the next day, hyunjin told me he was going on a trip with his family, so he wouldn’t come to prep school. I wondered if I should just attend my classes online since he won’t be there anyway.

I quickly texted him an hour before I left for prep school.

‘so, you aren’t coming today?’

he didn’t read my message even by the time I was leaving for prep school, so I just assumed he had no internet, wherever he was.

I decided to attend my classes offline since the other guys would be there too.

I walked to prep school with my earphones in, playing my ‘anti-romantic’ playlist, wondering how my imaginary boyfriend would walk with me everyday, if I had one.

about 10 minutes after the class settled down, hyunjin ran into class. he looked at me as soon as he entered, and I opened my mouth in a look of betrayal.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna come! I almost didn’t come today because of that!” I whisper-yelled at him, as he unzipped his bag, taking his seat beside me.

“‘course I came. I couldn’t miss seeing your pretty face, now, could I?” he smirked at me, and class continued.

our physics and biology lectures ended soon enough, and all of us walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

we stood outside the building, talking and laughing, like always, as we waited for each of our friends to get picked up by their parents, because they lived farther away.

felix, who lives closer that the others, split ways from us soon, as we began walking home.

hyunjin always drops me home before walking to his house, because he lives just a little farther than I do, and my house was on the way to his.

as we were walking to my house, one of the new kids from our school, jae-won, who my friends thought liked me, was also behind us. he lived in the same apartment as I did, and went to the same prep school too, just for different classes.

he was always kind of weird, though, and definitely did not understand the concept personal space whatsoever. and I did not like him at all. I told hyunjin the same thing, twice, before. he also thought jae-won was creepy.

“you know what we should do?” hyunjin whispered to me.

I had thought about it a few times before and wondered if I should really ask hyunjin the question i’d been meaning to.

“what if we… fake date… just in front of jae-won?” I asked.

“I was literally just thinking the exact same thing,” he grinned at me. I smiled in relief. “I have the practical experience, and you have so much of the theory experience, don’tcha?”

I gasped at his mention of my binge reading era of romance novels with the fake dating tropes. he truly did know me at my weirdest moments, huh.

something also itched in my brain at his mention of ‘practical experience’. I knew he had one bitchy girlfriend before, and I knew what they were up to, but still.

he suddenly held my hand, glancing over his shoulder to make sure jae-won was still watching, and started swinging our hands together. way too much.

“oi! you’re gonna break my ball and socket joint!” I yelled, as he swung our arms in circles.

“oh, smartypants! stop studying so much,” he complained at my use of ‘ball and socket joint’ instead of just ‘shoulder’.

“not my fault we just studied that, like, five minutes ago,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

jae-won caught up with us in a while, and hyunjin whispered to me, smiling, “he probably saw all that.”

I hope he did.

jae-won stepped into the elevator and waited for me.

“oh, she’ll come later, you can go. good night,” hyunjin smiled, and jae-won nodded quietly, letting the automatic door close.

as soon as the doors closed, we both burst out laughing.

the next elevator was taking too long to come down, so we decided to walk up eight floors to my house.

such a bad idea.

“I should never have stopped going for my athletics classes,” I whined.

“how are you already tired? we’re literally still at the 3rd floor!” he laughed.

“shut up!”

he pulled our hands together, lacing his fingers through mine. “you don’t even know how to hold hands,” he rolled his eyes.

“excuse me, I hold hands with ae-ri everyday,” I said. he rolled his eyes again, and continued talking as if I never spoke. loser.

“you know that prank? one day i’d propose to you, and you’d think it was a joke, but i’d be serious? and then you’d say ‘yes’ and we’d end up being legally married?” he said, laughing.

“oh my god! that’s literally the plot of a book I saw on instagram!” I said, and explained a book plot to him.

the whole time our fingers were interlaced, I almost forgot about it.

we reached the eighth floor, and I said, “you should come say hi to my mum. she hasn’t seen you in two weeks. it’s the weekend anyway, come on. you’ll need my parents’ blessings if you wanna get married to me anyway,” I smirked.

“oh, i’m coming, fine, but don’t worry. I know I already have their blessings,” he smirked back at me. I mumbled a ‘whatever’ and rang my door bell.

the next 20 minutes were spent in conversation between my parents and him about how studies were going, and slowly the topic of the conversation shifted to the latest movies being released.

I could get used to this sight forever, I thought.

prev < m.list > next

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[foe-paw]

bro i just got knocked clean off my socks by a podcaster's description of a Stephen King character made in such a way that i finally, finally, understood the reference behind Uncle Wiley's character.

first, the stephen king wiki description on randall flagg:

Flagg is described as "an accomplished sorcerer and a devoted servant of the Outer Dark" with general supernatural abilities involving necromancy, prophecy, and unnatural influence over predatory animals and human behavior. His goals typically center on bringing down civilizations, usually through spreading destruction and sowing conflict.

huh! that sounds kind of familiar! alright, on with the podcast excerpt-

Randall Flagg, he's the dude we're all here for, in one way or another, right. Because… Just to let you know, if you're a listener who has not read a lot of Stephen King, if you're here because you like hearing us talk about it rather than reading it yourself, Randall Flagg is in some ways the lynchpin around which all of Stephen King's later work is going to be built upon. He's going to leave this novel and he's going to show up in other novels. Randall Flagg is the Walkin' Dude, and he walks a lot. He is, uh- in- in the way that I think that if you're not a Stephen King reader, you probably associate Stephen King's ultimate embodiment of evil as Pennywise, because I think Pennywise has a much sharper popular culture profile. But Randall Flagg is really Stephen King's archvillain. And he is… He is the Heath Ledger Joker. He's also, kind of the Jared Leto Joker. He is also kind of the Jack Nicholson Joker! He is every Joker. Right? He's an Ur-Joker. — It's very funny that you just said he's not Pennywise. — Yeah. But he is the Joker! — Yeah, yeah. He is an agent of chaos who is calculating. — We get introduced to him - and I actually, I think the rest of the books kind of ruin Randall Flagg for me. Because Randall Flagg is really intriguing when we meet him here. He, uh, he's a drifter- so, again, we have these parallels. Nick Andrews, who is a drifter, but he's like, the good drifter… Randall Flagg is the bad drifter, who doesn't go from town to town to work, we get the sense that he just - he doesn't even remember his own past, right? There's something really weird about him right off the jump, he doesn't have a good sense of who he is and he does not care. He just has, like, weird memories of, like- impossible memories, right? Hhe remembers going to school with Charles Starkweather. He remembers riding with the KKK. He remembers, like, helping the weather underground build bombs. It's suggested that he's hanging out with Donald deFreeze and the SLA when they come up with the plan to kidnap Patty Hearst. And he's just a guy, he wears cowboy boots, he wears jeans, he wears a denim jacket, he's got pockets that are filled with all sorts of extremist literature? And, this is important- it's not just, like, extreme right-wing, right? It's extremism of any type. Right? Randall Flagg is the nightmare embodiment of horseshoe theory in a lot of ways. —Yeah. We talked a lot about liberal centrist Stephen King, and I think it should be instructive to everyone that his ultimate villain is just extremism of any kind. Like, any political statement that- or any political belief that is, like, outside the Overton Window, that's Randall Flagg. — He just, he has no ideology other than the sowing of chaos, right? Making everything worse is his goal and he doesn't have a very clear memory of his own life, the events are kind of strange, but also, and he has in his first chapter, right? He's walking down the highway and he always has- the phrase that is always used to describe him is that he "looks like a man with great good humor", right? He's always smiling, he's always laughing, but it's a mean and evil laugh.

from the Just King Things episode about The Stand.

i just feel so relieved because i've been kind of turning wiley's bizarre fucking sartorial choice of double denim in my head like a dog with a very confusing bone, but that decision is way less inscrutable if the source for the double denim turns out to be the bad-guy imaginary of Stephen King in the 70s sdkjskdjskdjskdj.

[under-an-orange-sky]

The Paths Of the Dead

Excerpt from Some Notes Toward Two Analyses of Auctorial Method and Voice

How to Write Like Steven Brust Steve has two theories about literature, and one set of instructions on how to write it. First theory: "The Cool Stuff Theory of Literature is as follows: All literature consists of whatever the writer thinks is cool. The reader will like the book to the degree that he agrees with the writer about what's cool. And that works all the way from the external trappings to the level of metaphor, subtext, and the way one uses words. In other words, I happen to not think that full-plate armor and great big honking greatswords are cool. I don't like 'em. I like cloaks and rapiers. So I write stories with a lot of cloaks and rapiers in 'em, 'cause that's cool." Second theory: "The novel should be understood as a structure built to accommodate the greatest possible amount of cool stuff." How to write like Steven Brust: "It's really simple. What you do is put up a sign on whatever wall you face when you're writing. The sign says: And now I'm going to tell you something really cool."

Spoilery stuff below - it's probably loads of spoilery stuff from here on out, folks.

I had to laugh at Paarfi's bit at the beginning, basically saying that he dgaf about the role of the Dragon-Jhereg war on the events leading to Adron's Disaster, basically because it doesn't involve Khaavren. lols

I keep forgetting that The Paths Of the Dead opens with baby Morrolan. And I love the way Paarfi writes baby Morrolan. And, of course, Teldra gets introduced and I lose all my shit. Also also we get another coachman named Miska. Because of course we do.

The adventurous tone is back, and all the hardships that came with the Interregnum are mentioned but not especially dwelled upon. This is a time for the restoration of the Empire! Sure there's plague and bandits and warlords, but none of that can stand against our heroes! That said, The Paths Of the Dead isn't quite as actiony as you might expect, but then again it really is the first third of a single work. It works as a book, but it works better if you kind of think of it as part of something larger.

I love the seed that's planted with Röanna's dream while she's in the coach. She chooses the path of adventure in the pursuit of fortune and glory. Ibronka, she feels, can have the love and contentment. It feels like a throwaway, until you remember that Ibronka's a Dzur, and Paarfi never gets around to introducing any handsome young Dzurlords for her to fall in love with...

It took me forever to get this written, for how little is here. I'm actually nearly finished with The Lord of Castle Black.

[humanoidtyphoons]

My impression of Milady in the novel is that she's a complex character that is fun to read about, whilst its initially unclear about how evil she really is, note D'artagnan is horrified when Athos claims he immediately hung his wife on the spot, but by the end, the reader is supposed to agree with the cast that Milady is evil incarnate and cannot be allowed to live.

We get some chapters from Milady's perspective and she definitely desires vengeance on D'artagnan and Athos, she deliberately murders Constance as a way to hurt the former despite acting as her friend for several days. This leads the protagonists to decide that they have to immediately kill Milady without taking any chances of her escaping.

I don't think the vigilante trial was supposed to be the best choice, though, even if Milady was clearly guilty, in the sequel its established that the executioner and Athos, are guilt ridden for taking the law into their own hands and think they should've taken her to a proper court of law.

Athos is interesting given during the execution, he was the most gung ho about executing, threatening D'artagnan with his sword when he gets up to help Milady, but years later, their roles have flipped.

Milady's son is actually given at least one passing mention in the first book as the heir of her late husband, D'artagnan definitely knows about him.

Speaking of Milady's death, she spends alot of time giving all sorts of ridiculous reasons why they can't kill her including her being too young, wanting to mend her ways, that she only killed Constance because she loves D'artagnan, and having men ready to avenge her if she dies.

Athos and I think Lord De Winter, both remark in the sequel, that she, never, at any point, brought up that she had a son and that he'd be all alone if she died. Athos even sadly remarks that he would've spared her if she brought up her son's welfare without his mother.

Its never said why Milady didn't bring up her son, maybe given the in-universe belief that she was pure evil and fan theories that Milady just viewed her son as a way to get De Winter's money, she didn't consider him? Its never explained and up to fans to answer I think?

Ah, that makes sense! She's fun to figure out--and D'artagnan is certainly a good audience surrogate for that! Out of context, when Athos claims that he hung Milady on the spot, that certainly gave me pause. But then, later on, as her evil continues, it's... kind of more understandable. Yeah, I mean, she probably can't be allowed to live, because her evil would continue... but on the other hand, the vigilante trial both... is and isn't the best choice. Is, because god knows Milady is persuasive enough to wrangle her way out of the situation, and getting the job done ASAP is prolly for the good of France, but also isn't, because the musketeers shouldn't really take the law into the own hands, considering Athos is her former husband, and D'artagnan, her former lover. They made the best of a bad situation, I guess, but it's still a tricky situation TBH.

Hmm, I wonder if that's true -- for Athos to have spared her at the time. It's all very well and good to say that, twenty years later when he feels remorse, but in the moment? I think his rage was too great. But who can say? From what I read of TYL, he's certainly changed from TTM, but if I reread TTM, it's certainly something to think about.

(Her reasons for not being killed are making me laugh though! Never it let be said I don't enjoy ridiculously weak arguments!)

Hm, okay. Well, speculation is fun too, even if there's no concrete reason on how Milady thinks about her son. Perhaps he just didn't occur to her during the trial. Let her have some mystique til the very end, I suppose.

[rinsuniverse]

request: "Woozi with a creative-type significant other? As a writer that dabbles in creative non-fiction and poetry, the things woozi creates in his music is just inspiring and makes me want to reach people just like he does through my works ^^ btw ur woozi stuff is so cute. Ur content is the things I want to dream about"

[6:03]

i feel like woozi would LOVE having a creative s/o!

so here are some scenarios for a creative-type reader x woozi 🫶

i think since woozi would love having your company, it wouldn't be uncommon for you two to be on a video call whenever he's doing work in his studio

you both would do your own things and not even bother talking with each other much

so imagine he's at his studio and you're at your house

on your screen is jihoon (who's practically completely out of the frame), but you can see the purple lights in the studio and the windows behind his desk

you're focusing on researching inspirations for a novel you're writing!

"oh wow! that's cool, i didn't think of it like that," you say to yourself as you research

"hm?" he hums, moving so his face is in in the frame of the call

he's def not looking at himself on call so he can make sure he looks good for you. psh.

"oh, you know that novel idea i had? i'm looking for more inspo for it"

"that's cool. what have you researched so far?"

"well, actually, i'm reading fan theories behind your song lyrics."

he gives you the most judgmental face istg "what?"

"like deeper meanings behind your music. it's really inspiring"

he chuckles and rests his cheek on his fist as he adores you in the camera

"tell me about it"

he pauses his work to carefully listen to all the hidden meanings fans theorized about for his music

sometimes, he finds himself surprised that fans interpret it so well

he loves listening to you ramble about things you find inspiring or interesting

he'll sit there and listen to you, all of his attention on you for that while

he can't help how his cheeks become rosy when you say his music inspires you

i mean, that's something he wishes his music did for people

and when he hears your positive feedback, it means so much more than the endless feedback he gets from fans and coworkers

he'd definitely make more songs that you tend to find inspiring for your creative works for future albums (aka putting even DEEPER meanings into his lyrics just so he can see how you interpret it yourself)

another scenario!

imagine you're both at your house

you're listening to seventeen's music in your earbuds and jotting down some poetry as you listen

this is another scenario where you're both kind of doing your own thing in each other's company

he's had a lot of time doing his own thing that he notices after awhile that you're actually there with him

and so he moves closer to you, sitting next to you (shoulder-to-shoulder)

he gently places a hand on your thigh and leans his head gently on your shoulder, trying not to disturb your train of thought

you immediately close your notebook and set it aside, making him slightly pout

"do you need something, ji?"

he shakes his head. "no, but what were you up to?"

"just writing some stuff"

he nods. even though he's so curious, he doesn't push it.

"what are you listening to?"

"this really cool group called seventeen"

he laughs, grabbing the earbud you're offering him and putting it in his ear

"you know, i have the guide for this song in my computer at the universe factory if you ever want to listen to it"

"that'd be great," you smile. "wanna know what i was writing about? this song inspired the poem."

he nods, leaning off of your shoulder to watch you open your notebook again

"it's embarrassing to read this, to be honest," you chuckle

"don't be embarrassed. don't worry so much, it's probably great."

and you read him the poem

and like

WHEN I TELL YOU THIS MAN IS WHIPPED FOR YOU AND YOUR CREATIVITY

"this is so good, y/n/n, this is crazy."

he would love listening to you read. he loves listening to you talking (bonus points if you sing).

but when you read something you wrote yourself out to him

he feels this sense of pride

like "oh my god, i'm dating such a creative person... how did i get so lucky?"

when like? stfu why would he even think that when he is who he is 😭 but he def would think that

he'd def ask for your permission to use some of your poetry in his songs!

one last scenario for other creative-type readers! (since this post is kinda short)

if you dabble in visual arts, this is for you!

woozi is so- he's so pretty and cute and like- literally has me dying (i draw him realistically or doodle-like sometimes!)

and imagine you're at his studio and you're sitting on his couch, sketching him in some outfits or doodling him doing wooahae or other silly things

he's working on his music (SURPRISE!)

and you say "hey, jihoon, i'm gonna step out for a bit to use the bathroom, i'll be back"

and he nods and you disappear for a bit

he gets to a stopping point and stretches his arms, pushing his seat away from his desk

he turns to look at where you were sitting on the couch to remember "oh yeah, they needed to use the bathroom"

and he gets up and can't stop himself from looking at the open sketchbook on the couch

his ears get rosy when he sees drawings of himself, but his jaw def drops when he notices how talented you are

like? you might've mentioned you liked art but? what the hell, he had no idea you were this good?

he may or may not have taken a picture of the drawings lmao

he goes back to his work and pretends nothing ever happened

it's not until you're talking to him many weeks later about feeling down or disappointed in yourself that you find out he's seen your drawings

"yeah, i know i'm worrying too much, but i just feel really down about myself... i'm not anything special, to be fair."

he listens to you thoughtfully, but he hates listening to you talk down about yourself "you're very special, don't think that about yourself or say anything bad about yourself. you're worthy of great things. i mean, not everyone is as talented as you or sweet or thoughtfu-"

"talented?"

"um, yeah? have you seen your art?"

"you've seen my art?!?!?!"

he has to explain himself and reassure that seeing your art isn't anything for you to be embarrassed about and tells you that you're so so talented, and he loves how creative you are

so yeah 🙇‍♀️

anyway, thank you for the request and for your support! i hope you loved woozi x creative-type!reader 🫶

(p.s.: requests are now open!✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧)

[etoilesombre]

how to do worldbuilding right

this is a long post, so i’m putting the pull quotes under a cut. but luke arnold is fucking hilarious, and also just at a craft level i want to dive into what works about the exposition early in this book.  

There is a lot of worldbuilding that has to happen for this book, inherently. We’re living in a very complex world, that essentially has to be both created and then destroyed within a few chapters, because canon era is all in the post-magic context. This has EXCEEDINGLY high potential to be either a massive info dump, or leave the reader feeling confused. Instead, we get two examples very close together of world building done in ways that are actually integrated with the rest of the book. 

One: [in the context of film reel shown in a school auditorium]:

“… My Body and Me: Growing Up After the Coda.” 

I started to fidget, pulling at a loose thread on my sleeve. The voice-over switched to a male announcer who spoke with that fake, friendly tone I associate with salesmen, con-artists and crooked cops. 

“Hello, everyone! We’re here to talk about your body. Now, don’t get uncomfortable, your body is something truly special and it’s important that you know why.”

One of the kids groaned, hoping for a laugh but not finding it. I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous. 

“Everyone’s body is different, and that’s fine. Being different means being special, and we are all special in our own unique way.” Two cartoon children came up on the screen: a boy and a girl. They waved to the kids in the audience like they were old friends. 

“You might have something on your body that your friends don’t have. Or maybe they have something you don’t. These differences can be confusing if you don’t understand where they came from.” The little cartoon characters played along with the voice-over, shrugging in confusion as question marks appeared above their heads. Then they started to transform. 

“Maybe your friend has pointy teeth.” 

The girl character opened her mouth to reveal sharp fangs. “Maybe you have stumps on the top of your back.” 

The animated boy turned around to present two lumps, emerging from his shoulder blades. 

“You could be covered in beautiful brown fur or have more eyes than your classmates. Do you have shiny skin? Great long legs? Maybe even a tail? Whatever you are, whoever you are, you are special. And you are like this for a reason.”

I just can’t stop cackling, I don’t even have things to say, except that this is a great way to show what the tone of the book is going to be. 

Two:

At the back of the room, two swaying Elves played an endless game of darts on one of the special boards you only find in Sunder. 

After Ranamak was assassinated, a Sunder-born Human took his place. Governor Ingot was a businessman. In theory, that suited the population, but he turned out to be more concerned with selling Sunder to the world than looking after the current inhabitants. 

The first piece of propaganda was a brand-new map. Not of the whole world, only our continent: Archetellos. All other islands were ignored. Archetellos itself was skewed and scaled in a way that brought Sunder into the center. While it was a novel idea, the effect was immediately offensive to anyone with a basic understanding of geography. 

The posters were mounted onto thick board and handed out around town. The plan was to send them out across the world to convince other lands of Sunder City’s importance, but they were so vehemently mocked that production was stopped almost instantly. 

Only a handful were displayed in local establishments, probably as a joke. One night, when the other dartboards were busy, a few drunken patrons got creative.

Sunder City, fudged to be the artificial center of Archetellos, is worth fifty points. Elven hubs like the Opus Headquarters or their home in Gaila are thirty. The eastern city of Perimoor and western cliffs of Vera are both twenty-five. The Dwarven Mountains that border the north are worth twenty but they guard the way to the Ragged Plains and if you land in those you lose five points. 

Islands are ten points apiece, including Ember (where the Faeries come from) and Keats (where Wizards are trained). There’s no punishment for landing in the water but there are house rules, depending on where you play. In The Ditch, out of respect to Boris, the Banshee home of Skiros is worth thirty-five. 

Human cities are worth zero. Weatherly, Mira and the old Humanitarian Army Base are all a wasted throw. In some bars, you even forfeit the game.

Communicating geography is a horrible thing to do in a novel. Often, fantasy books will just pop a map in to save the trouble. It is almost always awkwardly done. This is a very graceful solution, as it shows a whole lot about how humans are seeing themselves and how others are seeing them (are we paying attention? civilization! narratives! themes!) in addition to just giving information about where things are. We have the basic names and locations of cities, but that is probably the least important part, which is what makes it not feel tedious. That is almost side information to what you are implicitly learning about the society. 

[saint-starflicker]

what did you think of the secret history? (Also all the things tagged tsh are so not tsh related it’s so sad)

Despite being upheld as a sort of Dark Academia media originator, I did not get as keen a sense of a sort of "aha, so THAT's where everybody else got that from" in the same way that sword-and-sorcery fantasy can't escape The Lord of the Rings, or Regency romances can't escape Jane Austen.

This is a good thing, though, that TSH...hasn't really been imitated? This despite all the—what I think is—false advertising associated with its successors. TSH can't be mistaken for a clichéd form of something that it was the earliest example of...unless I've been reading the wrong books this whole time 😂

It's definitely the most aesthetic in that there is so much more care and dawdling over the descriptions than I usually find, and it meanders around the narrator's memories. Reading TSH was really an immersive experience on a sensory level alone, and for that I kept thinking they don't make literature like they used to.

I also gave up on trying to hang on to every line as though it's a clue to something I had to put together before the end because of that. While I have looked up reader theories about which character was most likely to be misrepresenting what because of so-and-so motives that the narrator wouldn't consider, or the theories of what really happened that the characters misunderstood, and all of that adds to how many layers of meaning and analysis this text had, but what I was more into was the general mood of a slow creeping something through all the coziness of finding new friends and visiting their fancy houses (which was probably on purpose on the author's side of things.)

When it comes to an exercise of reading between the lines, TSH gives ample opportunities to do that, while at the same time the parts of my brain that turns a fiction novel into a movie did not have to work as hard because this book was telling it what to imagine more clearly than most others.

I think I could pick up on some gallows humor, and I get why some lines become fandom in-jokes, but for me it wasn't laugh-out-loud then-instantly-feel-bad-for-laughing sort of dark humor.

Finally I might regret admitting that I didn't love the characters or plot/pacing. I understand that the central cast are human train-wrecks-can't-look-away messed-up, and there are so many well-thought-through fan interpretations about why they are like that, and there's so many details that make them ordinary people that are also living train wrecks and I don't read that often either. The way these characters are constructed, detailed, set into motion and development is a master study. The characters themselves, though, I sense that I won't be rotating them in my mind for the next several years. (Sometimes that doesn't happen, I don't really know why.) Around the funeral scene, I didn't exactly get bored but I started to wonder if there was a point to all this.

I find it recommended as "a whydunnit not a whodunnit" mystery but I think it's neither. Its character-driven thematic layers keep me categorizing TSH as literary fiction (that just so happens to take place at a college and involve murders.)

[demonslayedher]

Love Breathing Not Fully Bloomed: A Kanroji Mitsuri Meta

Some thoughts that have been brewing since we got a deeper look at the birth of the Breath of Love in the Rengoku Gaiden, boiling down to that Mitsuri had not yet reached her full potential.

SPOILERS AHEAD~!

While we don't have any reliable timeline for this series, we know that Mitsuri has been practicing swordsmanship for only about two years, likely less. The "two years ago" stated in her flashback to her failed engagement was back when she was 17, so let's be generous and say that was 2.5 years ago. But, we must also keep in mind that she's been a Pillar for at least several months by the time Swordsmith Village arc takes place. The Pillar meeting Tanjiro met her at was possibly her first of the twice-a-year meetings, but I wouldn't put it anywhere beyond her second. After the failed marriage discussion she would have spent some unknown period of time dying her hair and starving herself, before deciding to join the Demon Slayers. She accomplished her Flame Breathing training under Rengoku in six months, roughly half the time most Breath users train under their cultivators. Tokito is noted for becoming a Pillar in two months after taking up the sword, but Mitsuri probably stumbled her way into Pillarhood within months of passing the Final Selection; making the Kamaboko squad's quick ascension up the ranks look like nothing as she blows away the usual five years it takes someone to become a Pillar (or if they are especially skilled, more like two years, as stated by Gotouge in Taisho Secrets). While the way of swordsmanship and battle became Mitsuri’s everyday way of life, thereby leading to huge improvements, that's a really short time to develop actual battlefield experience. Among the Pillars, she is the least seasoned or naturally inclined for battle, it really is by accident of her bizarre strength that she’s gotten so far. That's hardly surprising, given her background and motives. For context, her interests are very domestic what with all the pet-keeping (four cats, a rabbit, and a whole hive of bees, by my count) and sweets and recipes, and her stated hometown would have been in the heart of developing city culture, with shopping and restaurants and movie theaters. There would have been no exposure to swords and the culture that goes with them, making her justifiably embarrassed of how monstrously her strength makes her stick out. Her inability to fit into a normal family life makes her feel worthless, even if she does have a base of love and support. (*Put a pin in these things, I'll be drawing a comparison to another character later.*) However it was that she was introduced to the Corp, it must have taken a huge leap of hope and/or desperation to leave the otherwise comfortable lifestyle for a life of battle. While Rengoku's home is not terribly far from hers, it still would have been a total break from the life she knew before, so she must had been betting everything on both her ultimate wishes; living in accordance with who she is, and finding a husband. Let's refer to these respectively as Wish A and Wish B. Note that "becoming a strong swordsman" and "elimating demons" are not among these goals; they are merely means to her goals. Now if we try to to follow her path as a swordsman chronologically, six months since taking up the sword under Rengoku, she's passed the Final Selection. On a mission with Rengoku, who now treats her as a peer, she's nonetheless filled with shame that she hasn't really picked up much skill and just waves her sword around with brute strength. 

I love this bit of characterization because that is so, so easy a trap to fall into with martial arts. Even if you understand things in theory and do your best on proper form when taking things slowly, all of that very easily goes out the window when you're using them in the heat of the moment. The less experience you have, the far more likely one is to do this. Falling back on just throwing a punch as hard as you can instead of throwing a good punch makes Mitsuri so, so, so relatable. She is a normal girl with abnormal strength, not a battle genius. Like us normal people, and even like Tanjiro, she can only improve her battle sense with experience. This puts her in a very different situation than the other Pillars, who she meets either when they are very experienced, or when they are outright geniuses. This gives her a different sense of shame, which we'll come back to. While feeling ashamed that she can't live up to Rengoku's teaching, her fighting suffers with this lack of self-confidence (which, again, makes her very relatable because this is applicable to just about all of us normal people), and she only realizes the Breath technique when applying it through her own unique emotion-driven fighting style. While she goes on to name this Breath after Wish B (given that this is a romantic version of "Love"), it's powered more by a philanthropic love, realized only when she is protecting other people. This becomes a newly discovered third wish, as well as a source of confidence.

In the side story novels, Mitsuri later on suffers another blow to her confidence which compromises her fighting and makes her fall back into wanting to hide herself, for she is ashamed of how her motives compare to Shinobu's. Besides Shinobu's encouragement and giving Mitsuri a venue in which to openly express her love and appreciation for other people, another child whom Mitsuri has rescued looks up to her and says a few things to restore her confidence. Getting that feedback and being able to express herself openly (Wish A) is the cycle that powers Mitsuri's confidence and keeps her ultimate weakness, shame, at bay. This, combined with words of encouragement from Ubuyashiki and Rengoku, is what really empowers her to embrace her unusual constitution and develop the Breath of Love. While it's said that this is an offshoot of the Flame Breathing she's formally trained in, it's more of a stretch than the relationship between something like Snake Breathing stemming from Water Breathing, and more like she's hit at the basis of Breathing itself to create a technique suited to her, like Inosuke did with his entirely self-taught Beast Breathing. (*Put a pin in this self-created Breath style thing, we're going to come back to this too.*) So, Mitsuri went on to become the Love Pillar. With the rate at which Pillars cycle in and out (based on how many the Upper Moons claim to have killed), I have to wonder how fast the Lower Moons getting cycled in and out too.  Even though these are her peers and we never see any other Pillars looking down on her, she sees herself in a lower position than the rest of them. Case in point, one thing I love that the anime did is that when Tokito chips the rock at Tanjiro and tells him off, Mitsuri is silently fangirling, and then when Tokito orders the Kakushi to draw back/leave, Mitsuri silently and automatically obeys and shrinks back. That wasn’t directed at you, silly!

Though her Breath requires confidence, she still has a ways to go. When we see her again later, she's in a position of being a protector to everyone around her; the swordsmiths and her juniors, and she's treated with the awe and respect and acceptance of a Pillar; in this kind of setting she is fully in accord with Wish A (reinforced by her less formal third wish) and, thanks to Shinobu's encouragement, not ashamed of Wish B, thereby eliminating a big part of her shame-based weakness. She's added all this power and just as importantly, experience to her preexisting raw strength and flexibility.

The experience is key here; she's gained a lot of battle sense since her first mission. She's not as taken off guard by demon abilities, and with her risen confidence, she's also gained more flexible thinking and can make quick adjustments in battle as needed. 

Not entirely, though. At her core, she still relies on that brute strength.

Ultimately, though toward the end she thinks she might be overpowered after all, it's that boost of confidence and cycle of philanthropic love from her juniors and desire to protect them than she recovers and makes use of her mark. (I'm glad no one's told her that this means she's doomed to a short marriage, should she ever even get one.)

Following this historic feat; acting in a way that is natural to her and to her Breath to unlock a mark she didn't even know existed, she still feels a little shamed among the other Pillars for being so shamefully inarticulate about battle technique; despite this being what she's dedicated her life to. Again, it was never her natural desire to be a fighter, so it’s unsurprising that this part doesn’t come as naturally to her as it does to all those geniuses in the room.

Moving on to the battle with Nakime, this is mostly played for laughs because Mitsuri's lack of battle sense compared to other characters is put on full display. She's emotional from the get-go and easily overwhelmed and this affects her concentration drastically, leading to stupid mistakes and ultimately having to fall back on her brute strength to break through pieces of the fortress instead of survive and fight through observation. Getting called out on this is meant to help her, and she absolutely does her best to summon back her battle sense, but it's all downhill for Mitsuri and her Love Breathing technique from here.

As the battle with Muzan starts, that third wish is thrown back in her face as so many of her juniors die protecting her. Since he's powered by philanthropic love and confidence, she cannot recover any battle sense, and quickly falters so much that she must be removed from the battle rather than weigh everyone down. The difference between her and the other Pillars here is stark; her inexperience and lack of natural fighting inclination is, again, painfully obvious and relatable to a lot of readers. She has natural strength, but not natural talent. When she does return to battle, she only has that core strength to rely on again--no room for peace of mind, only brute emotional strength resulting in a panel that made me throw my fist in the air and cheer out loud because damn, that is hardcore, girl.

But, in the end, Mitsuri succumbs to her injuries, and only right before death does she get closer to Wish B. Even with Iguro's promise, it's too late.

This is super frustrating for a number of reasons, but if we're focused solely on the actualization of Love Breathing, it's because Iguro could have said something much, much, much sooner if he wasn't so ashamed of his own blood tainting her in this lifetime (not that she would have cared). Words from other people have such a huge influence on Mitsuri that if she had actualized Wish B, for which her Breath is named, she could have made humongous gains in confidence before being romantically loved, and having someone to openly shower in love. Imagine what she could have unlocked, if that shame she still carried for being too monstrous to be married could have been eliminated. But that's not all. What if the timeline had been different? What if she had not two, but five years’ experience? Or even more than that? What if, for a long duration of her experience as a swordsman, she was also experiencing a happy marriage? I invite you to consider the implications of a Mrs. Iguro Mitsuri who has the comfort and confidence of being herself with a husband, in addition to being in a leadership role in the Corp? A Mrs. Iguro who, with a little honesty from her husband who feels bothered that she’s embarrassed, stands up to Maeda-san and says that as a married woman she needs a more modest uniform?* A Mrs. Iguro who gained a level-headed battle sense that can only be refined through experience, not based in brute strength alone? She'd be such a happy badass. *(Not looking for a modern-era Western culture based debate on this; this is defined based on Mitsuri's desire for a proper Taisho Era marriage.) Now, remember those pins I put in place? Consider someone else who realized a natural Breath technique all on their own, who attained a mark without any intention to, who felt like a monster due to super human abilities that made them shamefully unable to fit into the ideal family life, despite only wanting a peaceful, happy wedded life? Someone who valued bonds with other people, a kind person who lived to protect others? Now, I'm not saying that Love Breathing is as powerful as the Breath of the Sun, or that Mitsuri is as innately powerful as Yoriichi (their natural skills were of different types entirely). But, as all Breath techniques stem from the same natural Sun Breathing source, Love Breathing might have found its way back a little closer to that source, in some way or another. Which is all to say, never look down on Love Breathing or on Mitsuri just because she didn't play as big of a role as the others in the final showdown. After all, that Breath was not yet all it could have been, and as a swordsman, she was not yet in full bloom.

[heytherejulietx]

helloooo :D i hope you're day is going very very well i was wondering if i was able to request a fred weasley x reader, with prompts 19 and 36 very fluffy pleaseee and thank you ❤️!!

Little Plus ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - I’ve had a great day thanks! I hope yours is going good too! 💜 Thanks so much for requesting this, it was really fun to write, I hope you like it lovely!

Warnings - Mentions of puke.

Word count - 1.6k.

Prompts -

“I’m not sick.” “You literally just threw up.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Y/N gripped the edge of the toilet in front of her as she retched over the bowl, trying to focus on Fred's hand soothingly rubbing her back instead of the burning in her throat and the watering of her eyes. She felt Fred gather her mess of hair into his free hand, hearing his soothing words talking to her.

After another moment she heaved out a breath as her body slumped backwards into Fred's arms; the man kneeling right behind her.

There'd been no indicators that she'd even been remotely sick the whole morning. She'd gotten up for work with Fred as usual, took a shower, and as she was getting dressed she just ran into the bathroom as she suddenly felt the urge to throw up.

"Are you alright, love?" Fred asked, not able to keep the concern he held for her from seeping into his words as he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, letting her lean against him.

"I'm fine." Y/N sighed as she nodded. "I think I must've eaten something funny last night. Did the chicken seem cooked properly to you?"

"I think so." Fred mused, though he couldn't have been so sure. He always wolfed his food down so fast that he wouldn't have noticed either way.

"I wanna brush my teeth." Y/N pulled a face - just wanting to get the taste of puke out of her mouth.

Fred nodded as he carefully stood up, his hands gripping her forearms gently to help lift her to her feet. He kept close as she moved over towards the porcelain sink to brush her teeth, leaning on the counter beside her.

"Want me to call your work and tell them you're not coming in?" Fred offered as he ran a hand through his fiery locks, giving her body a once over which was in her work uniform - a pencil skirt and a white blouse.

"What?" Y/N asked through a mouthful of toothpaste, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine to go in. I might just be a little late." She told him, before holding her hair to the side as she spat the toothpaste in the sink.

"No." Fred frowned. "You're sick, you're getting back in bed."

"I’m not sick." Y/N shook her head, causing Fred to furrow his eyebrows as he looked at her in confusion.

"You literally just threw up." He deadpanned, arms folding as he looked at her. "Just stay home today, alright? And if you're feeling fine tomorrow then go in. But it'll be worse if you be sick at work and have to come home."

Y/N sighed, because she knew Fred was right. Even though she felt fine after that, she knew if she ended up being sick at work then she'd be having a much worse day. She'd much rather stay at hone and be sick. "Fine." She nodded, turning to face Fred once she'd put her toothbrush and toothpaste away.

"Thank you." Fred smiled. He stepped just a little closer so he could wrap his arms around her, dropping a kiss to her hairline once he was holding her.

The sickness in the mornings carried on for about a week. Fred had managed to convince himself that Y/N was sick so he’d somehow managed to convince her to stay home from work. He was more worried than anything. He hated seeing his love in pain or discomfort of any kind, and throwing up was definitely not something pleasant. Of course he couldn’t stop working himself, so reluctantly each day he left for hours to head to his job at the joke shop that himself and his twin shared.

The time alone gave Y/N a chance to do things around the house once the brief sickness had passed. Despite insisting to Fred many times that she felt fine after being sick, he wasn’t convinced when the following morning he was holding her hair back as she threw up.

So she’d managed to clean the house top to bottom by the end of the week. But had also managed to think something else through, that scared her a little.

Hermione and Ron had started their own family a little over a year ago. Being a pretty good friend of the younger girl, Y/N helped her out through her pregnancy. So she remembered Hermione’s symptoms - like the morning sickness.

At first it had just been some wild theory that she was trying to piece together. Her and Fred used protection. Kids wasn’t completely out of the picture - she knew how much Fred loved spending time with his nieces and nephews and how much they both would adore kids when they were older. But with Fred’s dedication to his joke shop and her own career, it just wasn’t such a good time for kids to be around.

Though once Y/N had realised that her period was late she could see how more likely the wild theory could be. Once Fred had left for work on the Friday, she’d gone out to get herself a muggle pregnancy test from a local shop, and brought it back to take the test.

Her hands were shaking like mad as she held the small pink plastic stick in her hands, waiting for the few minutes to be up to check it. Y/N had purposely chosen to take the test whilst Fred was at work so he wouldn’t be there when she found out the result, and she could have time to process things if the answer did happen to be what she was fearing.

When the timer she’d set on her phone went off she cast her gaze downwards, her breath halting in her throat when seeing the little plus staring back at her.

“Fuck.” She whispered, swallowing a huge lump in her throat.

By the time Fred had gotten home, all Y/N had managed to do was move from the bathroom to the living room. She couldn’t focus on her book, on the TV, on anything at all. All she’d done was just switched between reading the same page of her novel over and over, and watching a re-run of some old English sitcom, though didn’t pay any attention to it.

“Hey love.” Fred smiled as he walked into the room, glancing at the TV for a moment before he moved to seat himself on the sofa beside Y/N. “Feeling any better?”

All she could do was nod in response, forcing a small smile as she tried to think of how to break the news to Fred.

“Good.” The man nodded with another smile, before chuckling a little. “Work was manic - George managed to drop a whole jar of these jellybeans we have, and he-“

“I’m pregnant.” Y/N blurted out, not able to help it slipping. She had to get it off of her chest.

Fred immediately cut himself off, stiffening on the spot as he ran his eyes over her frame before his gaze locked on her stomach - as if looking for proof of a pregnancy. “Come again?”

“I’m pregnant.” She repeated. “The being sick all the time - that’s why. I took a test today and it’s positive.” Y/N heaved out a huge breath, swallowing harshly again.

“We’re having a baby?” Fred asked. At first his tone sounded upset, maybe like he was disappointed, though Y/N saw the tears in his eyes and the smile over his face and realised he was just emotional. But he was happy about it.

“Yeah.” Y/N whispered with a small nod.

Almost immediately Fred had engulfed her into a hug as he laughed, his arms winding around her wait as he kept her pulled tightly against him.

“Merlin, we’re having a baby!” Fred beamed, pulling away from the hug to practically smash his lips against his girlfriend’s.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement, kissing him back for a long moment before pulling away to take in his expression. Despite the tears in his eyes, she’d never seen his smile so big. It practically reached his eyes it was so huge.

“You’re not worried this is too soon?” Y/N had to ask, her worries about their jobs still in the front of her mind.

“Love, this is probably the best thing I’ve ever heard.” Fred assured her. “George’s fine at the shop with Ron, and we’ve got enough money that you don’t have to go into work. We’ll be fine. This is amazing.” He assured her, his hand falling to rest on her stomach.

It was Y/N’s time to have tears start building in her eyes. She giggled tearfully as she flung her arms around him again to kiss him. Her hands laced into his hair as his hands moved down her body, eventually settling at her waist as he moved to be hovering over her.

His lips left hers to trail a line of kisses down her neck and shoulder, all the way down to where her shirt collar stopped. Instead of leaving it there Fred just pulled her shirt off to lean down and press a long kiss to her stomach, his hands resting either side of her waist.

“Hey baby,” Fred spoke to her stomach, causing her to giggle tearfully once more as she watched her boyfriend speak. “You’re probably not even big enough to know what’s going on yet, but thanks little bean. You’ve made us so happy.”

Y/N pulled Fred up to kiss him again, smiling widely against his own happy expression until she pulled away to look at him.

“I love you so much.” She told him, his returning smile practically melting her into a puddle.

“I love you, too.” Fred told her, lacing his fingers with hers. “I love you both so much.”

[ivyyreid]

stars in your eyes

2 description: reader is tortured, spencer tries and save her.

category: definetly angst, maybe a teeny tiny bit of fluff?

tw: death, mentions of cuts, burns, kidnapping, words like ‘whore’, knives.

masterlist

spencer’s pov:

the team sits around the table, at the sacramento police department conference room. well, everyone but y/n. y/n is also the reason the team is in the conference room. 

while the team was tracking down an unsub, y/n was kidnapped, drugged, and taken to who knows where. 

at 27, she’s the youngest member of the team so everyone is protective of her. but it’s not just because of her age. it’s because she’s just herself. funny, sarcastic, bubbly, bold, gorgeous, and affectionate. even her flaws are lovable.

we all sit at the round table, discussing where she could be. the only thing we know, is that she was taken as leverage, or as a warning. all our other theories on where she could be are a bit too far-fetched.

our unsub is a woman named coleen robbins. she’s been kidnapping, torturing, and killing girls in their 20s who resemble the girl her boyfriend cheated on her with. y/n fit the description exactly. y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and freckles. we didn’t notice until it was too late.

garcia's been on facetime with us for the past two hours, helping us trace pointless leads, or trying her best to track coleen. none of our efforts are working though. y/n’s phone is off, and coleen hasn’t used her credit card or anything. we’re at a loss.

hotch is pacing back and forth by the whiteboard, rossi is staring out the window, emily and jj are looking at every other victim’s file together, derek has his head in his hands, and I’m just sitting here. This is one of the only times where my brain is of no use to the team. 

“hey guys?” Garcia’s voice is wobbly, somethings wrong. “i just got emailed a link. you’re gonna want to see this. i’m sending it to you now.” i’m racking my brain trying to think of what the link could be. i have nothing. that is, until a live feed pops up on the television. everyone gasps, and i feel all the blood rush from my face.

y/n is tied to a chair, in the middle of a dark room. there are burns, cuts and bruises all over her body. coleen stands behind her, twisting a knife in between her fingers. 

“oh my god,” hotch mutters, and everyone else just stares at the television in stunned silence. “go on, you little whore. say your goodbyes,” coleen’s icy voice slips through the speakers in the room, and I hold back the urge to punch the tv screen.

y/n looks up, her face illuminated by a single light bulb. she smiles weakly. she’s the only person I know who would focus on others feelings in a situation like this. 

“hey guys,” she says, her voice wobbling a bit. for some reason she’s smiling a bit. “i wish i could say bye in person, but this is the best i can do i guess,” she laughs weakly, and plays with her fingers; her nervous habit. 

“rossi,” she starts, and he looks up at the screen, his eyes brimming with tears. “oh my god I’m going to miss you so much. you’re the only person I know who brings instant pasta in their suitcase, and you can always make me smile. just, keep being yourself, don’t change.”

“hotch, you’re like the strict, loving father I never had” her voice breaks, and she laughs a bit. no one else does. “you were always there for me, for my first dead body, my first case, everything. you’re the reason that i didn’t quit after my first case. you helped me get through it, and you can always keep me on track. i’ll miss you so much.” hotch tries to maintain a normal, serious expression but I can see the pain in his eyes. 

“emily, you’re so funny and sarcastic and beautiful and amazing. i’m always wishing i knew more about you, you’re just so interesting! i still can’t tell if you were joking when you said you worked at a strip club or not,” a tear spills out of Emilys eye, and she mumbles something to the tv screen. “i love you endlessly, please please never change,” y/n says, and i see her blink away a tear or two through the screen. 

“penelope, you’re probably one of the most unique, amazing people i’ve ever met. i remember on my first day i was so scared and nervous, and you just gave me a huge hug when i walked in, and I knew everything would be fine. i love your hair, and your outfits, and the way you greet the phone. i love you so much, never ever change or I will rise from the dead and perform some satanistic ritual on you” I hear penelope cry through the facetime video.

“derek. you’re just so great, and it will always amaze me how you always have a girl on your arm. i loved every second of getting drunk with you, even when you would force me to do karaoke. please do me a favor and marry penelope.” derek puts his hand on his head, and stays silent. i can see the emotion on his face.

“and jj, I don’t know how to thank you for being my first real best friend. i never really had people i could trust, but then i met you and i knew, i knew we would be friends until the end. you’re so gorgeous, i’ve spent hours wishing i was you. i’ll miss our saturday girl’s breakfasts, and our movie nights, and even you calling me at four am to say we have a case. love you forever.”

jj sobs, but everyone else is too upset to comfort her. i know it’s my turn for the goodbyes. but i can’t do it. i want to run out of the room, punch a wall, i can’t do this. i can’t watch her say bye to me, while i think about everything i never said, everything i should have said. i should have said it when we sat on the roof and watched the stars. i should have said it when we sat in the car and ate ice cream and listened to 90s music. i should have said it everytime we sat in the cafe and drank coffee with way too much sugar. i should have said it. but i didn’t. and now it’s too late.

“spencer.” y/n’s voice comes in through the tv, and i bring myself to look up. she has a sad smile on her face, and she’s holding back tears. “spencer, my best friend. not even my best friend. best friend was just too generic, you were so much more than a best friend. we were the type of people who would look at the stars together, and talk about constellations, and the theory of the universe together. we were the type of people who would come over to each others apartments at three am and watch movies or lay in bed and stare at each other and just talk. we were the type of people who would sit in the parked car, eating ice cream and forcing each other to listen to nineties music or beethoven. we would sit together in the police department for hours, drinking coffee to keep us awake while we tried to solve a case. we would laugh at each others jokes that no one else understood, and compare our opinions on classic novels. i remember the first day i met you, when i spilled coffee all over you in the elevator, and you told me this crazy fact about how meeting someone for the first time when you’re embarrassed strengthens a relationship. and then i remember i took you out for coffee because i felt bad, and then you accidentally spilled it on me. i remember getting home and laughing for hours. we were the type of people who were happier when we were with each other. and whatever star I was born under, you were born under it too. we’re not best friends spencer, we’re soulmates. and...and....I love you.” her voice breaks, and she looks at the camera with a nostalgic face, like she’s already gone. 

i cry, i can’t help it. i just want to scream, ‘i love you too!’. i want her to hear me. but it’s too late. it will always be too late. 

-------------------------------------------

we’re all in the suvs. coleen gave us her location. i know i should be rejoicing, but it was what she said after she gave it. ‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’ I yell at morgan to go faster, even though deep down i know he’s doing everything he can.

‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’

after what feels like an eternity, we pull up to a small shed. everyone jumps out of the van, vests on, guns and flashlights in their hands. morgan kicks down the door, and we all run in. i hear hotch yell that he has coleen, but i don’t care. i need to find y/n. i run from room to room, panicking, until I reach a small porch at the back of the house. and y/n’s there.

she always seemed so large in life, but now, nearing her death, she seems so small. like a little girl. i hold back tears, i have to be strong for her. she’s lightly breathing, and watching the sky. when I reach her, i sit down, and cradle her head in my lap. 

“i wanted to see the stars,” she whispered, and i nod, watching her face.

“remember that day…. that day in the park?” she says, tilting her head to look up at me. 

of course i do. we had just gotten back from a long case, and y/n had me come to the park with her, to watch the sunset. we laid down in the grass, and watched the sky. i was still struggling with the case, and i was telling her about how awful it was, when she grabbed my hand, and pointed at the sky. look at how beautiful the world is, she had said. without hard cases, and ugliness, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate this. we wouldn’t be able to appreciate the beauty of everything, she told me, and I remember I had just stayed silent, watching the angelic-looking girl.

“of course,” I say, and she smiles up at me, blood dripping down her face. 

“remember how pretty the sunset was? how beautiful everything was? you have to remember the beauty of that day, spencer. the sky was glowing, and trees were rustling, and birds were singing. the earth is beautiful. that was the day I knew i loved you. when I held your hand, and we just looked at the sky.” she brings a hand up, and touches my face gently. of course she’s the one who’s comforting me when she’s dying. i stay silent, cradling her head, and stroking her hair. she looks at me again, and i see pain in her eyes. “i don’t want to die, spencer” y/n whispers, her voice breaking a bit, “i don’t want to die like this. i don’t want to die, spence” a tear slips down her cheek, and i notice i’m crying a bit. “hey, hey, shhhhh” i comfort, wiping the tear off her face. she stares back at the stars. this is my chance to tell her. i know she’s going to die, and it’s completely pointless because she already knows, but I have to. 

“i love you, y/n. i love you so much. i’ve loved you, and i don’t want you to go”. the girl turns and looks at me, a sad smile on her face. “i know, spence. and i love you too. so much”. I stroke her hair, wishing I could kiss her but i can’t. she looks at my red eyes, and my tear stained cheeks, and starts humming. humming a song. our favorite song. my head fills the lyrics in. 

you’re a part time lover, and a full time friend.

the monkey on your back is the latest trend,

i don’t see what anyone can see, 

in anyone else.

i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,

i kiss you all starry eyed my bodies swayin’ from side to side

i don’t see what anyone can see,

in anyone else, but you.

here is the church, and here is the steeple, 

we sure are cute for two ugly people,

i don’t see what anyone can see, in anyone else.

suddenly, she stops and turns and looks at me, and suddenly i realize this is it. “i can see the stars in your eyes, spence” she whispers, and i watch as the breath leaves her body. the way she sadly smiled, before her eyes glazed over to look at the sky, the way her lips parted. and it’s kind of beautiful. but there was something sad and terrible about it too. because it was death. 

i can see the stars in your eyes, spencer.

[aellynera]

Beat the System (Poe Dameron x f!Reader; high school AU)

BEAT THE SYSTEM

My darling @autumnleaves1991-blog is doing a Writer Wednesday thing (click that link for details) and today’s challenge was:

...so I wrote this little thing. may or may not be based on things that might have somewhat happened during my years as a summer amusement park lackey.

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: You see a lot of people at your summer job, and you didn’t really want to see him or for him to see you, but that’s not how the system works.

Warnings: Female reader. High School AU. References to clowns. Complaining. Nothing else really, just a lot of fluff. As usual, mostly kind of proofread.

You kind of hated your summer job. 

It wasn’t so much that you hated having to get a job in the first place, after your parents insisted that’s what you’d need to do if you wanted your own car. And the job itself was actually pretty easy, at least in theory.

The ring toss stand at the local amusement park was your domain. Your days were spent surrounded by giant stuffed elephants and aliens and teddy bears, taking money, handing out rings, watching people throw them at bottles. Ninety-nine percent of the time this also meant watching them lose. The losses generally led to another futile round of buying and tossing. And, invariably, cussing; never mind that this was a family establishment and there was a five-year-old standing three feet away from the offender.

No, it was the job on repeat for eight hours a day, five days out of the week. It was seeing all your friends come by and have fun while you literally had to watch them (but hey, at least you got paid.) It was having to work every single weekend. And it was all the people. People you’d known your whole life, people who lived in neighboring towns, busses full of people from who knows where that flocked to this place every single year.

And it was just weird to think of this place as a destination. It was just the amusement park that was there all your life, that your parents went to when they were in high school, and maybe their parents did too. This place was freaking old. But why people felt the need to come by the busload from hours away--

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here.”

The voice broke through your ranting brain and you looked up to see a familiar face grinning back at you from the other side of the booth.

Poe Dameron was a senior. He was captain of both the football and the soccer team, treasurer of the student council, sang on the chorus, played bass in the jazz band, was in the drama club, and you were pretty sure there were at least a dozen other things he just did because he was good at everything. 

He was also ridiculously hot and the last person you wanted to see you in your ridiculous, brightly colored work uniform. He stood before you looking like he just crawled off the cover of a romance novel, all tan skin and dark curls and defined muscles, and there you were with a high ponytail and baggy shorts and a shirt that would put a clown to shame.

Honestly, all you needed were the giant floppy shoes.

He was also there with a group of his rowdy, juvenile football friends, which only promised to make this hell even more scorching. At least for now, they seemed to be occupied with ogling the girl who ran the tilt-a-whirl across the path and completely ignoring you.

You scrunched your face at him. “Poe, I’ve seen you here like twenty times this summer. You’ve even played this game before. You know I work here.”

“Okay, you got me,” his grin didn’t falter. You weren’t sure, but it might have even gotten a little bigger. He handed over ten dollars. “A bucket of rings, please.”

Great, he was going to hang around. You glanced at your watch, and it solemnly informed you that your break wasn’t for another hour and half. So you were stuck there. In a virtual clown suit. With the hot senior you might have had a little crush on.

Not like you ever doodled his initials in your notebooks or on scraps of paper when the crowds at the stand died down. You denied all knowledge of these supposed incidents.

You could act like a normal person in his presence.

You sighed and took the money from him, handing him a bucket full of red plastic rings in return. “You know this game is rigged, right? They all are.”

“So I’ve heard.” He picked up his first ring. “But I am determined to beat the system.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Poe shot you a quick side-eye before turning his attention back to the sea of bottles in front of him. He tossed the first ring and it flipped end over end before bouncing off a bottle top with a spectacular ding! His brow furrowed as he reached for another ring.

“Apparently not,” he muttered. “But I’ll still beat it. You see, there’s this girl I want to impress, and…” He tossed the second ring and watched it ricochet off another bottle top.

“Of course there is,” you snorted. “There’s probably a whole horde of them.”

He chuckled. “Nope, just one.”

You waved your arm in a grand gesture toward the playing field. “Well then, have at it, Romeo. You know the rules. No leaning over the rail, and you have to land five rings to win. Let me know when you need another bucket.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied as he tossed yet another ring. You tried, you really really tried, to ignore the way the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated.

And so it went until the entire bucket full of rings littered the floor of the stall, with nary a single one landing on its intended target. You grabbed the sweeper and started pushing them back into the bins underneath the counter.

Poe growled in frustration. “Seriously?!” He waved another ten in your direction and you handed him another bucket, giggling as you made the exchange.

“I told you, it’s rigged. But…” you crooked a finger to motion him closer. And then tried to remember how breathing worked as he leaned in, now just inches from your face.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

The attempt to subtly clear your throat was only half successful.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this,” you pointed toward the bottles, “but the table is slightly higher on that side, and so is that one part in the middle. If you aim for those bottles, you can probably bounce the rings onto the lower ones.”

The grin he flashed almost blinded you. “Beat the system.”

“Beat the system,” you agreed.

You leaned back and watched. After the first six rings or so, Poe seemed to figure out which bottles to aim for and how to toss the ring (with a bit of spin, of course) and before you knew it, his fifth ring landed on the center bottle and he was shouting “yes!” with a little fist pump.

“I am impressed, Dameron,” you said, clapping. “I bet this girl will be too.”

“I hope so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he suddenly look kind of shy? No, that wasn’t Poe Dameron. He was the polar opposite of shy.

“Which one?” you asked, pointing to the prizes hanging above you.

“Which one would you pick? If you just beat the system and you were trying to impress someone?”

“Uhhh…” Why in the world was he asking you? It didn’t matter, this was his deal, you just worked there. And quite honestly, you probably wouldn’t pick any of these monstrosities. They were huge. And kind of weird looking. And neon colored.

After a few moments of confused contemplation, your eyes finally landed on a giant purple teddy bear, half hidden behind a chartreuse alien and an orange thing that was trying to impersonate an octopus. You pulled it down and handed it over.

“Here you go, the least weird thing you just spent twenty bucks on when you could have just gone to the mall and bought something more reasonable.”

“Nah, this is perfect,” Poe replied, grabbing the bear. It was nearly half as big as he was. You often wondered how anyone dragged them around the park for the rest of the day, much less managed to get them home. “Thanks for the advice.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that rose on your lips. “It was either that, or have to explain to my supervisor why you would have ended up hanging around until the park closed.”

He laughed loudly. “Rey would have understood. She’s cool like that.”

“Geez, you’re good at everything, do you know everyone in the entire galaxy too?”

Poe didn’t seem to hear you, though, as he looked over his shoulder and around the area, and you followed his gaze. His friends were nowhere to be seen and vaguely, you wondered when they’d wandered off and why they hadn’t very loudly announced it to him. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, I should go find the guys,” he said. “And let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. All of the easy-going rapport from the past however long Poe had been there suddenly evaporated and every ounce of awkwardness you normally felt around him returned. “I’ll see you.”

You might have been looking anywhere but at him, but you didn’t miss the small wave he gave you as he walked away, and you definitely felt the heat that rose in your cheeks.

Poe was quickly forgotten as a swarm of ten-year-olds rushed the stand and the incessant clanging of misthrown rings once again took over all your waking moments. You didn’t think about him for the rest of your shift. All you could think about was how tired you were, how hot the day had been, how much you wanted to shower and sleep and pretend you didn’t have to do this again tomorrow and--

Your feet ground to halt in the employee parking lot and approached your beloved car, the entire reason you had this forsaken job in the first place. Your car, which, you would have serious questions had you not known exactly where the thing came from, had a giant purple teddy bear sitting on the hood.

As you got closer, you could see something sticking out from beneath the bow tied around its neck. It was a slip of paper, with a phone number scrawled on it. And a little “P.” with a heart.

What was even happening right now.

Before you knew it, your phone was out of your purse and you were calling his number. Sure, you might have had to dial it four times because your nervous fingers kept pressing the wrong digits, but who was counting? And never mind that it was almost midnight. It was summer, he’d still be awake, right? 

Finally you got it right, and the call picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Hey,” you could picture the trademark Dameron grin behind it. And he sounded...relieved? “I’m really glad you called.”

“How did you get into the employee parking lot?”

“I didn’t. I asked Rey for a favor. I figured she might know which car was yours. Told you she’s cool like that.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she really is.”

“So I do have a really important question for you. Well, two actually.”

“I’m listening,” you said. It was hard to hear anything over how hard your heart was thumping in your ears, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Question one. Can I take you out on a date?”

“Yeah,” you said again and closed your eyes, partly out of a need to center yourself and mostly out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe one day, you would remember how to speak to Poe Dameron in multiple word sentences, but right at this moment was not that time. Oh well.

“Awesome,” he breathed out. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Yes.” Thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your current lack of language skills.

Poe laughed warmly. “Now, second question. Did it work?”

This time you couldn’t even come up with a verbal response. You just erupted in a bout of giggles, Poe Dameron laughing along with you. And somehow, you got that ridiculous monstrosity of a teddy bear into your back seat.

The somehows kept coming. Somehow you remembered how to use words. Somehow it was well after midnight now without either of you giving it permission to get that late. Somehow your phone refused to end the call. Somehow the hours were slipping by until you had to be at the park for an early opening shift in the morning, and somehow you suddenly didn’t care at all about getting any sleep.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad, after all.

~end~

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