#I can make another post about how shame can also subconsciously stop him from telling mew if anyone wants it

[savethevamps]

Top Tanin and The Reality Of Coercion

Disclaimer : Please leave your Top hate away from this post. I have no problem having a discussion about Top, but if you’re just going to blatantly hate & make comments that have absolutely nothing to do with this topic, keep it to yourself.

A few days ago I made a post explaining the scenes in which Top has been SA. In that post, I point out the two, in my opinion, most obvious times; however there is another time that I felt needed it’s own breakdown. Let’s talk about episode three of Only Friends, and the very harsh reality of coercion.

Before we get into the actual scene, I’ll be giving out some context to show how subtle coercion can be, and how it all adds up until Top finally “gives in”. So let’s first talk about coercion harassment (when someone pressures, repeatedly asks, or threatens another person in an attempt to change that other person's mind.) and how that leads to the scene we’re breaking down today.

One of our first Top and Boston interactions is them in the restroom, I won’t detail the entire scene, but we found out Top and Boston have had sex in the past. Boston expresses his interest in having another go at it, and Top tells him, “I already told you, once is enough for you and me.” Now what does this scene tell us? Well besides the fact that we know Top isn’t interested in a repeat, we also find out that this isn’t the first time Top has denied Boston. This is highlighted by his use of the word “already,” and the look he gives when Boston gets snarky with him after the rejection. After the first time in episode 1, we see Boston, on multiple occasions, try to urge Top to have sex with him again; even going as far as getting in a shower with him. I already made a breakdown of these other scenes so we won’t go into too much detail here.

For the record, it is completely fine to ask someone for a repeat performance when it comes to sex, I’m not saying Boston is wrong for that. However, problem arises when a person expresses that they do not wish to engage again, and your response is to try and convince them. With that being said, let’s talk about the day the scene happens.

They’re at a party, Boston waits until he sees that Top is completely alone before he acts. Top stands in the kitchen and Boston comes in to stand in front of him, we see Top try to leave and Boston uses his body to stop him. Myself and others have pointed out how being cornered seems to be some kind of trigger for Top, or just something that makes him extremely uncomfortable (rightfully so), and this scene is no different. Boston then proceeds to do what he does best, lie and talk. (I won’t go into the details of the dialogue in this scene since I’m on mobile, but I definitely encourage others to watch it back to see how gross it all is.) Top sees the picture of Ray and Mew, and is of course shocked by this but when he tries to reach for it, Boston moves it away. He then tells Top that he has something more to show him, a video. I don’t know what Top was thinking during the party or in the moment at Mew’s door, and I won’t pretend I do, however we can all tell that what he’s seen is still on his mind. He’s a bit snappy to Ray, which he usually isn’t, and keeps repeating that he’s Mew’s boyfriend.

Alright I know this breakdown is getting long but stick with me, it all ties together. I see a lot of people that say Top should’ve just discussed this with Mew, or that he should’ve ignored Boston but honestly? I think it seems fitting that Top went to meet up with him. Look, we see that Mew hadn’t been claiming him as a boyfriend (which is understandable from Mew’s perspective), Mew’s best friend (the one Top believes he kissed) has been rude to him for nothing, and Mew’s other best friend is now in his ear about apparent “evidence” of Top being played. Besides all this though, it’s never okay to say that a victim should have “seen it coming” or expressing what they should’ve done differently. Hindsight is 20/20 and everything obviously isn’t black and white, okay? Okay.

Now the actual car scene. Boston shows Top the video on his phone. While he’s watching the video, Boston is again in his ear about how he’s being played by both Ray and Mew.

In this scene, we see Boston do a thing that he does extremely well which is something called prevarication: meaning he skirts around the truth, or is purposefully vague about it. How does he do this? Well he tells Top that the video happened two years ago, but he immediately follows it up with saying something vague about how they could possibly still be doing it. He then of course brings up how Mew is definitely only dating him to mess with Ray. We all know this isn’t true, and Boston does too, but he does this in order to get Top where he wants him. I see a lot of people saying that Top shouldn’t care about something that happened two years ago, but that’s not the point. The point is that Boston, Mew’s best friend, is putting it in his ear that Ray and Mew are still fooling around and playing him.

It all comes to a head when Boston delivers the final blow, saying that of course he can do this too. Driving in the point he’s trying to make about Ray and Mew playing him. Now again, the point isn’t that it happened, the point is that it’s apparently still happening and he’s getting played. Also, for the people in the fandom who believe their own outlandish theories about Top, he’s not mad because he’s getting “outplayed”, or “losing at his own game”, Top genuinely likes Mew and is interested in him, so of course he’s hurt that this could be happening.

It’s also worth noting that during this entire conversation, Boston gets closer and closer to Top until he’s directly in front of his face. Which leads to Top being caged in and cornered once again. This is where I give everyone the definition of sexual coercion, which is when a person pressures, tricks, threatens, or manipulates someone into having sex. The scene itself is extremely uncomfortable to watch because of this, but also because of how reluctant Top looks in the first place.

To wrap this all up, this is another time Top was assaulted, and then made to be the bad guy. People keep bringing up how Top should’ve just explained everything to Mew and it’s a bit disheartening. I talked in another post about how I believe Top, just like most viewers, never sees himself as a victim. This is most likely because of the Perfect Victim Fallacy, and him not seeing himself as a victim explains why he wouldn’t tell Mew about this. Not only that, but it would be him against Mew’s best friend, of course he doesn’t think he can bring this up. As I said earlier though, hindsight is 20/20 and anyone can say what he should’ve done. I also see people talk about how Top “participated” in the end, and I need those people to read the definition highlighted above. Boston repeatedly corners Top, and tries to talk him into sex; this all adds up to what we see happen at the end. It doesn’t matter if he eventually “got into it”, the point is this: Top would’ve never laid a finger on Boston again if not for the days of manipulation he was made victim to.

[shoezuki]

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack 

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises. 

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears. 

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones. 

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other 

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

 he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence. 

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him. 

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter. 

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned. 

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

[fanficswithskylar]

OM Sleeping HCs

How they sleep when you’re witht hem

ok and how they act before bed and in the mornings

i dont know how to phrase this i am so sorry if this bit does not make sense

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

Lucifer

Somehow finds the energy to get ready for bed everynight

As soon as he hits the pillow he’s out

Not a cuddler, but likes to feel that you’re there so subconsciously holds your hand

Good luck he’s getting up at 5am and so are you

If you tell him to let you sleep in you get until 7

No snooze buttons

Gets ready pretty slowly

Mammon

Late at night he has the most energy

He talks a lot

“Look at this post on Devilgram!”

Lots of phone browsing and game playing

He’s going to try to stay up until 3am

Okay if you’re tired he’ll go to bed at like midnight

Sleeps facing away from you but really ends up holding you in the middle of the night

Won’t let go

Snoozes the alarm thirty times

Gets up and quite literally last minute

Not a fast mover in the morning once he gets up

Leviathan

Also puts off going to bed a lot

“Just one more round”

You two can hardly fit in the bathtub

So forced cuddling in a way

Snoozes once or twice

Definitely tries to play some games after he gets up

Used to take a handheld game console to breakfast before Lucifer make a no electronics rule

Satan

Very tired when getting ready for bed, like a slug

Keeps trying to read once he gets in bed

“What, no, 2am isn’t that early I’ll go to bed after this chapter”

He said that three hours ago

Once he falls asleep he falls asleep, fast

Keeps his arm on you

Once the alarm goes off he’s already up and ready

If you sleep in a bit he’ll read next to you

Asmodeus

Usually stays out late, and ends up in bed past midnight

If not he actually sleeps pretty well

Lots of blankets, he gets cold

Going to snuggle a lot, without shame

Gets up before you so he can do his makeup

Wakes you up once he’s ready

Helps you in the morning by brushing your hair, doing your makeup if you wear it, ect.

Talks to you a lot

Pretty soft talking in the morning while he wakes up

Beelzebub

Eats snacks before bed

Like a lot of snacks

Probably going to spend a while eating before going to bed

Once he does he likes to cuddle

If you’re smaller than him and try to spoon him he will let you try

Key word “try”

Grumpy when he wakes up

First thing he does is eat

Keeps snacks in his room for waking up and going to bed

Belphegor

Sleeps all day stays up all night

Yeah you’re not getting him to sleep

He does not “wake up” in the mornings, he just doesn’t sleep

Normally, when you take naps together, he’s a big snuggler

As much as Mammon if not more

Not afraid to hold you down until he’s ready to get up

When he wakes up it takes too long for him to actually get up

Diavolo

Full of energy, even when he goes to bed

Going to talk a lot while you fall asleep

Once you stop responding he takes the hint and goes to bed himself

Of course, another cuddler

The alarm hardly gets to go off and he’s awake again

His energy doesn’t die down even when he’s just woken up

If you’re too tired he will sit and wait for you to wake up

He can’t wait long though he’ll get up and wake you up eventually

Barbatos

Likes to be quiet before bed

He doesn’t get much time to himself during the day, so he likes to take his time at night

Likely reading, but also probably into those home design apps if his D.D.D. can get them

Doesn’t like to cuddle when he sleeps

Checks next to him when he wakes up to make sure you’re still there

Gets up and starts working before you get up

He won’t wake you up with him unless you ask, and doesn’t use an alarm so you can keep sleeping

Simeon

Really calm at night and tired but still likes to talk a bit

Goes to bed at a reasonable time, will make sure you do too

Holds you close, not tight

Sleep talks but doesn’t know it

When he talks in his sleep it makes no sense but is usually a continuation of what he was talking about before or what’s going on in his dream

He doesn’t have an alarm, he just knows when to wake up and wakes you up with him

If you ask him about the things he talked about in his sleep he gets a bit flushed

Good about staying on track in mornings and keeping you on track too

Solomon

He stays up late, like really late, no sleep schedule at all

Sleeps anywhere from 8pm to 4 am

Moves a lot in his sleep

Probably going to crush you

Really bad at waking up

Sets an alarm, if it doesn’t wake you up he will

Still presses snooze and goes back to bed after waking you up

[bewitchedbodyandsol]

If I Were Not Myself

Description: Reader is a mandalorian from Din’s covert who was manipulated into taking off her helmet. HEAVILY based on Pierre and Natasha from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. Takes place before the child (bc age reasons and character development has not happened). Trying to stay as close to the approximate ages in Great Comet/War and Peace, putting Din at 27 while reader is 19. 

 Notes: Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 makes me absolutely mad. The only spoken lines in the musical and it makes my heart shatter. Okay, I don’t think Din would be as courteous towards a dar’manda as I write him but also like, this is a Din/Pierre hybrid, so. And yes I know that based on these ages Toro Calican would have barely been born, but um, yeah <3. IT’S MY FIC AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT.  Also, this is my first time writing and posting fan fiction so um, yeah <3

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Thoughts of death (in an almost philosophical way). fem!reader Dar’manda!reader, war and peace au? No use of y/n, slightest hint of Toro Callican x reader and Paz x Reader (like they’re mentioned), age gap

If I were not myself,

But the brightest,

Handsomest,

Best man on earth,

And if I were free,

I would get down on my knees,

This minute,

And ask you for your hand.

And for your love.

The mandalorians-the mandalorian and the dar’manda, stood in front of each other. The air still. When he had initially seen her he ran towards her, he stopped less than a foot away and reached a hand out to her, but instead of taking his outstretched hand like he had expected, she slowly moved past him. She put an awkward amount of distance between the two. The gap between them too large for how friendly they normally were, while anything closer seemed too overwhelming. Din knew he had to stay far enough away to keep himself from completely engulfing the girl in an embrace, fists curling at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to her again. 

---- 

Din had known the young woman her entire life, for she was born shortly after he had been taken in as a foundling. While all families in the covert were friendly with one another, theirs had been especially close. And they had been especially fond of each other. The age difference caused them to participate in different activities and talk with different social groups but did not stop them from interacting completely. In fact, the two mandalorians had grown to be close friends. The young girl confided in Din about her newest crush on the covert while he doted on her for it and she would laugh at the gruff noises he made while being teased by peers, watching him try to act tough while knowing he would huff and puff to her about it later. 

He had watched her grow, from a nervous young girl who stood in the middle of a room filled with people simply to make them listen to her sing, to a young woman who knew how to carry herself and gain the attention of her peers from sheer presence. At the same time, the girl watched Din grow from a flustered teenage boy to a closed off young man who became more and more stoic with each passing visit. 

As the years went on the two became distant, caught up in the paths life had put them on. Din started running with Ran’s crew, his visits to the covert became few and far between, while she had stayed and chose to act as a nurse for the foundlings. Their friendship seemingly evaporated, dissolved to nothing but pleasantries. The young woman noticed the growing weight on her dear friend’s shoulders, but was unknowing of the whirlwind he found himself caught in. His growing reputation, worrisome discoveries he made about himself, and the insatiable twi’lek girl he had gotten tangled with. 

During his last visit home, Din had introduced the young woman to his friend Paz Vizsla. The two had known of each other for quite some time but had never formally been introduced, and quickly after he acquainted them Din felt a shift in the air, as if he was intruding on something he was not meant to see. He had not expected the pair to become so infatuated with one another. Aware of Paz’s past, the hardships he faced, losing not only a wife but a child at a young age, and the battles he fought; and the young woman’s naivete, having rarely left the covert herself and her general lack of life experience. So when he heard that they planned to wed, he had been surprised to say the least. 

That had only been one year ago. A year, and yet so much had changed. Din truly had not planned on a return home for quite some time. While he had been on the planet for a while, as the crew had a job that stationed them there, he had not planned on visiting the covert. As he had no obligations to do so, prior to the holo he had received from the girl's aunt in which she explained the situation to him and pleaded for him to return. She explained how the girl had broken off her engagement to Paz and made plans to run away with Toro Calican, whom she had only known for a few days, instead. Din had heard of Calican before and had even had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting him once, he found the suave young man obnoxious and to be nothing but trouble. Oh but what angered him the most about the young man, was seeing his own worst qualities reflected right back at him. His fears and flaws were flaunted by the young mercenary. When Din heard it was Calican the girl had become involved with, he didn’t even have time to think before it had slipped past his lips that the young man himself was married, and unlike Paz his wife was still alive. The girl’s aunt had begged him to return to scare Calican off the planet and to attempt to speak some sense into the girl. But when Din had returned it had been too late, she had revealed her face to an already married man, and unknowingly to her, his friends as well. Leaving her dar’manda. 

--- 

It felt almost inappropriate to stand in front of her in this state. With her lack of armor and helmet, she might as well have been naked from a cultural standpoint. She stood in the middle of the room in her thermals. Her beskar had been stripped from her, no doubt to be given to someone more deserving, a foundling most likely. Her back towards him, Din noticed her arms hung still next to her, obviously too exhausted to even subconsciously twiddle the edges of her shirt like she used to do when she was a younger, more nervous girl. When she turned around and looked at him, it felt like she could see into his soul. The helmet prevented her from looking him in the eyes, but having worn a helmet herself and interacting with so many others who did the same, she easily knew where his were hidden behind the mask. And when he looked into her eyes, Din could see the weight of the galaxy crashing down on her. 

“Din Djarin.” She tested out his name. And something in him shattered. No one had referred to him by name in so long, simply referring to him as ‘mando’, but Din Djarin was not the name she had used the last time he saw her. No, she had simply called him Din. The sudden change in formality made tense, as he took a second to respond. “Din” He took a breath and corrected her. It wasn’t until the girl’s face shot down did he realize he had started leaning forward, his weight shifted to the balls of his feet, left hand flexing at his side. 

He hadn’t seen her face in six years. No one had. Like most in the covert the young girl had sworn the creed promptly at the age of 13. After swearing the creed she had grown into herself, the young nervous girl Din had become friends with was replaced by a confident young woman. A skilled fighter and diplomat, yet as charming and giddy as ever. He could only imagine how she had grown ever more captivating as time went on. Din had never thought it to be a shame if a beautiful face was hidden behind a wall of beskar, his religion more important than simple vanity, and yet. As he saw her face on full display, he understood. Understood how someone who had become so enamored by the girl could do such a selfish thing, ask her to take off her helmet. 

“Vizsla was, Vizsla is your friend.” She corrected herself. Her ex-fiancé had fought in a far off battle for so long she had developed the bad habit of assuming him dead. Once again, the girl’s sudden formality was not lost on Din, referring to her ex fiancé as Vizsla rather than her usual endearing Paz. “He once told me that I should turn to you.” 

He had always reproached dar’mandas, finding them to be less than. Thought they had already shown themselves to be unworthy of the mandalorian title and armor if they could so easily take it off. That it took a truly weak man to break from The Way, from a people that loved fiercely and unconditionally. He wanted so badly to despise her. To give her the same scowl and acid laced words he might anyone else. But there was something about the way the young woman held her head. As if, even though she no longer had her helmet, she still did not want her face to be shown, and at that any chance of reproach towards her had died. Instead it was replaced by a feeling of pity. He had wanted to believe he felt nothing but pity for her, but he knew that wasn’t right. There was something else, something he was unable to place. 

“He’s returned. When you see him… Can you please tell him to, please tell him to forgive me.” She moved as if she meant to wring her hands, but when her fingertips found skin instead of leather gloves, they quickly shot back down to her sides. 

“Yeah, I’ll-I’ll tell him.” Din’s throat tightens as he recalls his conversation with Paz. How his friend returned from battle only to hear of his fiancé having an affair, removing her helmet in front of people who were not her riduur or ade. Recalling Paz’s posture, his voice almost malicious yet so pained when he said he could not forgive the girl of her actions. How the image of Paz, a man Din looked up to, had been shattered with a few simple words. “But-” 

“I know everything’s over, that chance of anything is gone.” Her head shot up, as if she had read his mind, anticipated his words. “But still, I’m haunted by what I’ve done, what I’ve done to him. Tell him please, to forgive me. For everything.” 

“I’ll tell him to forgive you. I’ll tell him everything.” Din nodded, as he thought of his next words carefully. “I want to know one thing. Did you really love him? Did you love that bad man” His voice sounded hoarser than usual. 

“Don’t call him bad.” She spat out. “But I, I don’t know. I really don’t.” Though the speed of her response told Din her real answer. That in some said way, yes, she really had loved Toro Calican. The man who had pushed her farther than anyone else had, pushed the boundary most important to anyone who shared their creed. Pushed her to do something she had never previously thought about. So uncaring of consequences. And if she had not loved him, she at least still held strong feelings for him. For the man who had manipulated her.

The young woman turned away from Din and began to cry. And he could hear the dam of emotions she held back break in the sob she let out. He could do nothing but watch as she began to crumple in on herself. The same feeling of pity from earlier returned, but it was now accompanied by a tenderness he had become unfamiliar with and that same something he was still unable to place. Din felt the tears pool at his jaw before he was even able to comprehend that he had started to cry. Thankful for his helmet as it prevented anyone from seeing the tears that rolled down his cheek. 

“Hey, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, ner vod.” The familiarity slipped out of his mouth, meant to comfort them both. He slowly made his way towards her, reached his hand out the same as he had done earlier. “But. I’m still, your friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to open your heart to. Not now, but, when your mind is clear. Think of me.” 

Din grew confused.

He had no idea where any of this was coming from. Especially after her had become so closed off over the past few years. He had felt more in the past few minutes here with her, warm and tender feelings that he had not realized he so dearly missed, than he possibly had in years. And there it was, that feeling he had been unable to place, unable to give a name, coming to the surface. Love. He had always carried affection towards her, in one way or another, but this was different. Love, something he had started to wonder if he was incapable of. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She snapped. “I don’t, I don’t deserve it.” Came out softer, sadder, and she practically scurried away from the man. Like she truly believed it. 

“Stop! Stop. You have the rest of your life-” The first stop a command, the second a plea. The girl stopped, her back still faced him. 

“The rest of my life? My life is over.” The girl reached the doorway she had entered through earlier, a tight grip on the wall. 

“Over.” He repeated. Looking at the girl, he saw a reflection of himself. His fears and flaws hung heavy around the girl. The same horrible thoughts that had plagued his mind not so long ago. 

The knowledge that one was capable of hurting people doing bad things, the thought that death might be more accepting and caring fate. The fear that life had ended before it even began. But unlike when he had seen those same traits in Toro Calican, who wore them with pride, he saw the same level of fear in the young woman that he had felt. 

And suddenly, everything stopped. 

“If I were not myself.” 

The young woman froze at his words. Din had not even registered that he was speaking until he had finished. 

“But the brightest, handsomest

Best man in the galaxy” 

Din had done bad things. Din had done bad things and enjoyed doing them. He had dangerous thoughts, dangerous intentions, and a dangerous way of life. He knew he was still not the man he needed to be. So much to improve upon before even thinking of settling down with someone, let alone the young woman in front of him. Though she was not perfect either, not the woman he knew she was capable of becoming, but he still thought she was deserving of perfection. 

“And If I were free-” His throat threatened to close. 

The Xi’an of it all was, Din was not in the position to be offering his love to someone else. And while they were not the ideal couple, he was still tied to her. He had his suspicions that the twi’lek girl might have been seeing other men along with him, but it did not stop him from remaining faithful to the girl. Along with the weight of his relationship on his heart, was the beskar lock he kept tight on it. His creed, the most important thing in his life. What he held himself to above all else. She was dar’manda, while he was not. A fact he could not simply ignore. Any hopes of a relationship between the two had been destroyed when she revealed herself. But he could not stop himself from loving her, from wishing he could do this one thing for her. 

“I would get down on my knees this minute 

And ask you for your hand” His voice strained. It could truly be that simple, they could be married in the matter of seconds. Vows exchanged, tied to each other for the rest of their lives. It was something he had never dreamed of, but as he stood in front of the young woman now. There was nothing he wanted more. 

“And for your love” 

The young woman turned around.

And reality comes crashing down. 

She makes her way over to him faster than Din thought safe for someone in her state. Her breaths jagged as she tries to control her tears. Tenderness replacing the earlier weight in her eyes. 

His breath hitches when her hand touches the cheek of his helmet. But he lets her, trusting her single hand to not make any bold moves, knowing the girl would not dare to lift the helmet off his head, to damn him to the same fate she had damned herself. Din’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes closing behind his helmet as he leans into her hand. A tear rolls down his cheek. The young woman simply looks at the man in front of her. And she gives him the softest smile he has ever seen. 

“Oh Din,” she whispers. ‘Thank you’, she means to continue, but the words are caught in her throat, leaving her to simply mouth them instead. She lets her hand fall from his face and leaves the room, smiling. 

Din stands and watches her leave, trying to hold back any oncoming tears, and lets out a shaky breath. Realizing his job here is done, he turns around to leave. Bumping into the doorway on his way out, he takes a deep steady breath, and makes his way to the Razor Crest.

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Where are you now?

Dabi x F!Reader

Angst/Drama

Song Fic [Based off the song Faded by Alan Walker]

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted chapter 4 of Abberation yet. I’m still working on it. Just trying to get it right. In the meantime, here’s an old fic of mine I decided to revamp. I hope you like it.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide attempt and depression.

~~~

The first time you met him was three years ago on the pier.

Flashback:

You were standing on the edge of the dock, staring down into the dark waters below you, wondering how it would feel if that water were to enter your lungs. Yes, you were suicidal. Every day you would think about what would happen if you were to just disappear for good. Would anyone care? Would anyone even notice?

You were a good kid. You always got good grades in school, you had friends who were there for you, your parents would always show up to your school functions. But something had happened. One day after school, you had found your mother in bed with another man. It shocked you, always thinking your mother loved no one but your father.

Your mother begged you not to say anything to your father about it and you agreed. Unfortunately, the lying and sneaking around took a brutal toll on your mental health. You were starting to become distant from your friends and your grades were suffering. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and told your father what happened. That’s when things got worse.

The two of them fought everyday, ultimately ending in a divorce. Your mother was forced to move out and your father dove into a deep depression, all but forgetting you existed. You no longer spent time with your friends, your grades turned to shit, your wardrobe changed. You went from being fairly popular and happy to being the outcast who was constantly bullied.

You couldn’t take it anymore and decided to finally end all of your suffering. You had closed your eyes for a split second, your body leaning forward. That’s when you heard his voice.

“Now, why would a beautiful girl like you want to jump in the dark waters of the lake?”

Your eyes snap open, startled. You whirl around to face a young mysterious man, about your age, sitting in a tree. He’s wearing a long black trench coat, a black tee shirt underneath, black slacks and his hair is also as black as night. What caught your eye, however, were the scars and staples that adorned his beautiful face.

“W-who are you? And how do you know what I’m even doing?”

The boy tilts his head, “your aura. It’s black.”

You furrow your brows. “My aura? You can see my aura?”

The boy nods. “I can. I have this special ability to see people’s aura’s. And yours is black.”

You look down at yourself, but all you see is your scarred skin and dark clothes.

He jumps down from his tree branch, brushing himself off. “You can’t see aura’s, Y/N. Only a select few can.” He turns to walk away. “Don’t jump. It would be a shame to see this world be without an amazing person as yourself.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait! How do you know my name?!”

He raises his hand and waves. “It comes with the gift, my dear.“

You take a step toward him. “What’s your name?!”

He stops in his tracks and glances back to you, a smirk settled on his face. “You’ll find out eventually.” And with that, he’s gone, back into the night.

Every night after that one, you went back to the pier, hoping to find this mysterious boy of yours and almost every night, he would be there. He would help talk through your thoughts and attempts, trying to make you understand that life does get better in the end.

He was like your guardian angel. A guardian angel without a name.

~End flashback~

It’s been a year since you’ve seen your nameless guardian angel. Every night you would come back to the pier and now, every night there would be no trace of him.

Sighing, you sit on the edge of the dock, staring down into the oh so familiar darkness of the water. Was it all a fantasy? Was he just in your imagination? Did your subconscious make him up to help you get through that rough time in your life? Was he just one of your beautiful monsters manifested into real life for a moment?

“But now it’s getting worse. I’m fading in the darkness again. Where are you now? Why did you leave?” You wipe the tears from your cheeks, not realizing you had started silently crying.

“I never left, Y/N.”

You hear a familiar voice from behind you, you turn around to see the man again, his smirk showing just for you. You jump up on your feet and walk slowly towards him, afraid of him disappearing once again.

“Y-You’re back? Where did you go? Why did you leave me alone?!“

You were angry, confused. This man one day pops up out of nowhere, saves your life on multiple occasions, disappears for a year with no word and then shows back up like it’s no big deal?!

He lifts a finger to brush back a strand of hair from your face, his touch grazing your cheek. “I was always here with you, just not in your line of sight. I promise I never left you, Y/N. I’m always watching over you. You only need to call me to see me.”

Your lip quivers, trying to hold in your tears. But to no avail, you break down, running and hugging the no-named angel. “Please, at least tell me your name so I know when I can call you for help.”

He wraps his arms around you tightly and whispers into your ear. “Dabi. My name is Dabi.”

[dclsbaby]

tolerate it - Dominic Calvert Lewin 🦋

Summary: despite being in love, you and dom drift apart during a career hiccup and it breaks your heart into tiny little pieces

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: angst? pain?

A/N: hi everyone! I took the looongest hiatus known to mankind and I just want to thank everyone who has still stuck by this blog! I haven't written in a while and this isn't by best work but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway! ily!

masterlist

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed

I sit and watch

I notice everything you do or don’t do

Every little thing he does leaves you in awe. The man can’t do no wrong in your eyes. You notice the way he breathes, his little gestures, his subtle movements. Others can envision an entire story just by observing the way he looks at you. As you lay in bed with his body next to yours, his chest rising with every breath taken, you discover a newfound appreciation to add to the list of things you love about him. You have never felt a feeling so intense, so visceral. Love is terrifying, isn’t it? Love often leads to infatuation, and this was no different to you. You wear your heart on your sleeves, feel every emotion, from the exhilarating highs, to the excruciating lows. To be dependent on another human for happiness is a dangerous game. You fear love. And with fear comes paranoia.

It started when your conversations became shorter and shorter by the day. Then, it’s him arriving late from training, to no longer waking you up before he leaves for early morning training. No more forehead kisses when you’re still asleep, no more post-it notes on refrigerator doors telling you he’s made you breakfast, no nothing. Bodies that were once intertwined each night now rest apart with unwanted distance in between. Distance you so wanted to close.

As the weather turned cold, so did he.

I wait by the door like I’m just a kid

Use my best colours for your portrait

Lay the table with fancy shit

And watch you tolerate it

Without fail, you would always wait for him to come home, run to the door when you hear his car pull over on your driveway and leap into his arms the second he steps in your shared home. He would hold you up as your legs wrap around his waist, and whisper “I’ve been waiting to come home to you all day,” in your ear. A memory you long to relive.

You knew he had been struggling, coping with a plateau in his career, playing less and less, becoming a resident of the substitution bench. It hurt you to see him hurt, but it also pained you that he did not turn to you for comfort. “Nothing is wrong,” he says, over and over. Lies, you thought. You know him better than anyone else. So you try and convince him that he could trust you, and that keeping it all in would only make it worse. I mean you would know, as you have been suppressing so much pain this whole time. But he wins this battle yet again, and with his ego intact, he shrugs it off, ignores his frustration, and pushes you away.

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural my sky

Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life

As months passed by, you were no longer his live-in partner, but a stranger he has to coexist with, leaving you lonely each night as he drifted off to sleep inches away from you. Even then your love for him is still as potent, as strong. Your loyalty is a crime.

Your efforts to make him feel better never ceased, as you continue cooking him his favourite meals after training, helping him pack his bags the night before he leaves for international duty, doing household chores so he never had to bother with them after coming home from an exhausting day, making playlists of songs you think he’d like, and putting movies and tv series you know he would enjoy in his Netflix list.

You would do anything for some form of acknowledgement.

You would do anything to bring back those first two years back.

You would do anything for a simple touch, a hug, an embrace.

You would do anything for… something.

Everything you did, you did for him. Every thought that passes your mind, involves him.

It’s just a phase. It’s just a phase. You try to convince yourself. That’s a lie, another subconscious voice says.

---

It was the night before the Merseyside derby, which happens to be the final match of the season. The most anticipated match of the year. The perfect match. The match that determines if Everton is crowned Premier League champions. Half of the city at war with the other half. Two colours, two clubs with a historic rivalry battle it out on the pitch once again.

He was nervous, you could tell. You catch him playing with his food and struggle to finish his meal as he was sick to his stomach. After months of hate comments, online trolling, and being subject to pundits’ criticism, this was the perfect match to prove all the doubters that he is worthy of wearing his blue jersey. He spent several more minutes tossing pieces of food with his fork until he got up, placed his plate on the sink, and made his way up the stairs to sleep. No “see you upstairs”, or a last goodbye before he sleeps. You had to resist every temptation to start a fight and argue that you deserve more than silence. But you knew how important tomorrow’s occasion is, and decided against it.

Shortly after you make your way into your bedroom. He was curled on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, bedroom lights dimmed. You go to your shared bathroom, take what’s left of your makeup off, and get ready for bed. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Darkened under eyes, lips cracked down the middle. You were dehydrated, tired, exhausted, and looked almost ghastly. Turns out having a broken heart does have implications on your vanity. How much longer can I do this? You thought. You felt pathetic, feeling sorry for yourself. You exhale a deep sigh and make your way back into the bedroom, joining him in bed. As you settle on the bed, you turn your body away from him, and tug the duvet your way, curling into a fetal position and tuck yourself in, and drift off to sleep.

All of a sudden, you hear sounds of shifting sheets, the bed slightly moving with every turn he makes. You could tell he was awake. You knew the events of tomorrow are playing on his mind and making him lose sleep. With only a little hesitation, you extend an arm and rest your hand on his back, causing him to shudder a little. Your touch had stopped the shifting and brought him comfort he did not know he needed. Not long after, you could hear soft snores from his side of the bed.

---

You woke up to an empty bed, which was not unusual. You forgive him though, since it is a big day and he probably had to tune into the game day mentality early in the morning.

You watch the game from home and stare at the TV screen as the cameras zoom into Dom, his face serious, ready to fight it out on the pitch. Since the second the referee blew the first while, it had already gotten intense. Both teams began attacking from the get-go, a handful of chances created even though it’s barely been a quarter of an hour.

Minutes passed, and yellow cards have been handed out for several players. Every spectator in different time zones all glued to their screens, all on the edge of their seats until half-time. The camera catches a glimpse of him walking off the pitch. He looked angry and frustrated, you could tell. He was responsible for most of the chances created during the game, though he couldn’t seem to poach one in.

Ben had made a long pass that Dom couldn’t quite convert into a goal.

Lucas had delivered a stunning, almost perfect cross that landed on Dom’s head, but it went wide.

Richy had attempted a shot on his own, which pissed Dom off.

It’s all square at half-time, but football is a game of two halves, and to decide which side of the city will celebrate tonight is determined by the next 45 minutes at least.

Every player is now back on the pitch, ready to give it their all.

10 minutes in, it’s long balls and defending, the opposition giving no room to maneuver through the box. That is until Lucas passed another strikingly accurate cross.

“MISS AGAIN! How could he have missed a cross like that a second time?”

“Everton’s number 9 squashes an open goal opportunity, what a shame, that.”

“He’s going to hate himself for that,”

“He already does, Calvert-Lewin looks like he’s about to see red.”

You listen to the commentators as they describe Dom’s frustration. You watch with anxiety, occasionally scrolling through your phone to avoid the intensity.

---

Into the final minute of the game 90+3.  Still all square at the Goodison. It’s now or never.

“Free kick!”

“The free-kick will be done 20 yards off the goal post.”

“This could be the last chance of the game!”

“It’s been decided that Sigurdsson will take the free kick, Calvert-Lewin leaps into the air, ball’s on his head—GOAL!!!”

And just like that, in the final minute of the game, his team clinches the winner, and your man is hailed the hero of the night.

You watch the screen as the referee blows the final whistle of the game, Dom doing sprints around the pitch with his teammates, bodies jumping on each other, veins popping through every neck, roars of exhilaration filling the open air as Everton is calculated to win the league.

You watch him immerse himself in the exhilaration of crowning his team champions of the Premier League. The blue confetti rained over the stadium in the crisp yet comfortable afternoon air, cheering noises blasting through the speakers. You watch the screen zoom into the love of your life, or was. You see his perfectly chiseled face, those bright green eyes, brunette locks still perfectly put together even after a hard-fought game, his sweet smile warming your heart. Your eyes glued to the screen as your man is hailed a hero, and feel an overwhelming sense of pride.

Though not even the cheering and happy faces on TV could distract you from the churning feeling in your stomach. It’s a feeling you can’t quite pinpoint. Is it confusion? Anger? Happiness? You don’t even know.

You’re happy for him, truly. But you can’t seem to shake the fact that it took him being distant from you, and completely ignoring your existence to get his head back in the game. It’s like you and football were mutually exclusive, and he can’t focus on both things he loves most at the same time. You weren’t going to make him choose either.

---

He didn’t come home that night, and you saw it coming. You knew he was going to go out with his teammates, and rightfully so, they achieved a massive milestone after all. But it bothered you that he didn’t say anything, no texts, no voicemails, nothing to tell you of his whereabouts. You thought he would at least change after all that success, but still nothing. Everything is going to stay the same, isn’t it? You thought.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. Again. Totally expected. You reach out for your phone and see 10 missed calls from your best friend and several text messages with picture attachments. You were not prepared for what you were about to see.

Attached were pictures of him in a club with his teammates, pictured awfully close to a woman you don’t recognise. He was smiling and looked happy. You can’t remember the last time he looked like that, or even smiled at you. You haven’t even stood as close as they way that woman is in his space, for months. He hasn’t looked at you the way he’s looking at her in those pictures for months.

You felt sick. Your mind is racing. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest. You wanted to cry and scream but nothing came out. Total silence. Pure shock. You had no tears left to cry, as you wasted it all from crying yourself to sleep just inches away from the man who broke your heart every day.

Should I have seen it coming? Has he been going out with her for months? When did it start? You try to remember every single detail over the past few months. Every single pain, every single action that you could have overlooked.

---

By the afternoon, you’ve already spent hours sitting on your bed, staring at the pictures sent to you. More links have appeared as gossip sites picked up on the story.

“Dominic Calvert-Lewin celebrates historic Merseyside win with a mystery girl who is not his missus”

“Everton Hero – Also a Cheat”

“Cursed WAGs – DCL celebrates PL win with mystery woman as his missus is MIA”

The more you read these news outlets, the number you feel. The whole of England knows your dirty laundry, you felt like a fool.

You were done.

Drawing hearts in the byline

Always taking up too much space or time

You assume I’m fine, but what would you do if I…

Break free and leave us in ruins

Took this dagger in me and removed it

Gain the weight of you, then lose it

Believe me I could do it

Shortly after you hear keys rattling downstairs, followed by the sound of doors shutting. You hear footsteps walking up the stairs, and you mentally prepare to see his face. You still don’t know how you’re going to react, not until you see him.

As he steps into the doorframe, he sees your bloodshot eyes and stops in his tracks.

“So, I presume you’ve seen what’s being said about me,” he moans.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve seen,” you shrug.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous isn’t it, shouldn’t believe everything you say,” he says.

“-is it though? Is it absolutely ridiculous that what they say could be true?” you cross your arms.

“Of course, it is! What are you even saying?” he says, offended.

“I’m saying that I have spent months slaving for you, putting you before myself without getting anything in return! I’m saying that I have been so miserable in this sad excuse of a relationship, holding onto the last memory of when you last said you loved me which was months ago! I’m saying that it would not be so unbelievable if you had been cheating on me, and that I had to find out from some tabloids!”  

“If you had been so miserable then why didn’t you say anything? You could have said something if you’ve been so unhappy!” Dom yells.

“Because I have been tiptoeing around you! Afraid of saying the wrong things to set you off, I did not want to be a burden during a time when I know you’re struggling,” you sigh.

Dom’s body nearly goes limp after hearing your confession.

“I put you before myself over and over again for the past year, and you have the nerve to assume I’m fine? Fine with what? Being ignored? Being second best? You don’t know what that does to a person,” you cry.

“Do you regret it?” he asks with tears in his eyes. “Do you regret me?” he looks at you.

“No, Dom. No, I don’t. I don’t regret you because I’ve spent the last few months giving it my all to a relationship on the brink of ruins. I never gave up on you, and I never gave up on our love, or what’s left of it,” you sigh. “Deep down, I think I knew that I deserved more than a pathetic excuse of a career hiccup, but I was prepared to stand by you through it all,” you break into cries. “My love was strong enough to ignore every warning sign, strong enough to mute fire alarm bells ringing in my head, alerting me to leave a relationship where I was no longer appreciated,” you rest your head on your hand. “Maybe we’re all allotted a certain amount of fight to give per love, and today… Today I ran out,” look up at him.

“Don’t fucking say that. Do not say that. I am not done fighting for this relationship, I know I fucked up! You don’t think I know that? I will fix everything, you don’t have to do anything, let me do everything I will fix us!” Dom begs.

“There’s no fixing us. It takes two people to fix a relationship, I learned that the hard way and I singlehandedly attempted to piece us back together only for you to break through what I’ve built and held together with my bare fucking hands,” you say as you wipe your tears away.

Dom drops to the floor as he could no longer stand the pain he feels from what you’ve just said.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say,” he pleads

“If it took you this long, and if it took me standing here yelling at you for you to regret what you did then we are past the point of fixing,”

“You know what football means to me, I felt stuck, everything that I had dreamed of as a kid was slowly fading, I couldn’t bear it,” Dom reasons.

“I would never get in between you and football. I would never have even considered making you choose, Dom. I would have done absolutely anything for you, anything, you said. “I just needed you to tell me what the hell is going on so I could have helped you. I did not deserve to be swept under the rug, to be left feeling useless, while you were out doing god knows what with god knows who after training every. Single. Day.”

“Are you implying that I cheated on you?! That I, me – someone you’ve known for years, is cheating on you?”

If it’s all in my head, tell me now

Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow

“Go on then! Tell me I’m making all of this up in my head. Tell me that I am not wrong to assume such insane thoughts, tell me that it is so beyond the realm of possibility that you could ever be unfaithful.”

Dom stayed silent.

You simply nodded and picked up your belongings, ready to leave.

“Nothing happened. I swear,” he pleaded.

“Your silence was enough,

Goodbye.”

I know my love should be celebrated

But you tolerate it

[foenixs]

aight aight idk of this is a good request but monsta x as your employees or something and they're whipped af for you?? but make it nsfw 👉🏻👈🏻🥺🥺 it's v broad I know but do with this what you want

x shy anon

Monsta X as your whipped employees

note: I'm so sorry, I forgot the nsfw part 😭 (i didn't read over the request again before starting to write it) some of these hint at sexy time but they are mainly imagines for how they would behave around you and the office after realizing they like you more than they should

This is supposed to be a lil present for you, happy birthday! ❤

if you like my fics please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

POV: You are Monsta X's employer and they are whipped for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shownu : the servant

very hardworking; he doesn’t get distracted from his work easily but when you bend down a little too low to show him something on the screen, he turns his head away, blushing heavily

he’s very slick with the way he communicates with you, offering to make you a coffee and carrying things for you

does those things without a second thought because he wants to be useful (subconsciously he just wants to be close to you)

when you ask him why he is always following you around the office he starts to stutter, mumbling something about how he didn’t mean to be creepy he just wants to help you out, but you can tell by the way his breath hitches that there is some deeper meaning behind his actions

he ends up taking a job at another company so he can ask you out on a date (he doesn’t have to, but he wants to show you how serious he is and that he doesn’t just want to sleep his way to the top)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonho : the mess

becomes a blushing mess the minute he realises he has a crush on you

avoids eye contact when talking to you and tries to not bump into you in the office (which turns out to be harder than he thought because it’s not exactly a big office space)

he’s usually smart and quick on his feet but when you ask him a question now it takes him forever to answer and he often miscalculates numbers in his reports

you quickly notice how off he is and start to worry that something private might taint his mind, so you tell him to take a couple of days off and he looks at you with sad eyes thinking he is close to getting fired

he can’t stop thinking about you while he is at home and after his friends give him a kick in the ass to finally man up and confess to you, he calls you up, blurting “I love you” and instantly hanging up again

you pay him a visit and end up staying the night (and a couple more) and his concentration seems to return to normal as he can finally call himself yours

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minhyuk : the comedian

starts his day by telling the joke of the day, gets everyone to laugh and raises the spirit in the office

his workspace is covered in post it notes with little scribbles he drew himself (“Shouldn’t you be working?”, you ask him as he is drawing again; “but this is work, a work of art, like you *wink*”)

surprisingly, he always hands in his reports on time and never makes any mistakes

he tells you up front that he is attracted to you, but you take it as one of his jokes

after years of working with him he asks you why you never made him your valentine (“Why would I?”; “Well, you’ve known that I like you for three years now and you haven’t fired me yet so I’m assuming you like me back, yet you’ve never asked me out.”)

when you tell him that you thought he was just play flirting he gets all serious, telling you that he would never joke about something like that

you take your time thinking about what he had said and how you felt about him but when the 14th of February comes around you slip him a post it note with a scribble of a heart and the question “Will you be my valentine?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kihyun : the daydreaming altruist

respect the authorities and elders is his number one principle, so he never dreamed of asking you out (it seemed unprofessional and rude to him), even when your sheer presence made his heart jump out of his chest

he tries to date other people, but he can’t push down his feelings for you, every time he ends up in someone’s bed, he can’t help but moan your name

cries himself to sleep because he doesn’t want to lose you, but he also can’t move on from you

he daydreams a lot while he’s at work and barely gets anything done

when his performance review comes in you are shocked to see his low numbers and confront him about it, he is apologetic and takes full blame, lowering his head in shame

“Gosh, you’re cute…”, you mumble to yourself, trying to figure out what to do with him, “tell me what hinders you from working. Be completely honest and don’t be scared about coming off as rude, I want us to find a solution, together.”

“You”, he admits, and his sudden bluntness almost makes you fall out of your chair (you settle on late night dates and his performance miraculously enhances)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyungwon : the perfect balance

he’s considered the quiet one at the office so when he asks you to join him and his friends for a karaoke evening you are quite literally left speechless

he works hard and focused during the day and plans out crazy dates for the night

no one at the office expects you two to date since he is very good at hiding his feelings in public, but he makes sure you still feel appreciated and loved, cuddling into you and professing his love when you two are alone

you stay together for a long time, perfectly balancing your work and love life and eventho he gets job offers from other companies for higher pays, he stays loyal to you and your company till the end

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jooheon : the attention craver

tries to gain your attention as much as he can, thinking that’s gonna win you over

gets sulky when you don’t greet him in the morning, eventho you are clearly stressed

does everything you ask him to do and more (overachieves), knocking at your office door when he has finished his work to ask you if there’s anything else to be done (it gets to a point where you have no work for other employees left because he simply does too much, too fast)

when you tell him to go take a break you find him in the cafeteria, reading over his reports while his soup gets cold

“Do you really love working or do you just want to impress me?”, the question had been lingering on your mind for a while but when you finally confront him about it, he falls silent

he admits that he wants you to notice him and you tell him you do, but you are worried he’ll get a burnout

you tell him it’d be better if he left the company, for his own health, but before he breaks out into tears you ensure him that you have indeed fallen for him and this was the only plausible solution to ensure a serious future for you two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Changkyun : the fuckboy

flirts with other colleagues to make you jealous, but it only makes you see him as a fuckboy

when you tell him to mature and leave his horniness at home, he becomes beat red, his confidence dying down in his throat

everyone has a crush on him (boy or girl) and you are surprised to find out he’s turning all of them down

he would never admit his feelings for you, and he is lowkey intimidated by your assertiveness, his facade shattering to pieces the second your hand lays on his shoulder

he wants nothing more than to be bent over that stupid desk of yours, writing drabbles about his imaginations

one day he accidently attaches one of his personal word documents to an email instead of his report and when he realises his mistake, he rushes to your office to tell you to please not open the email, but you already did, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, telling him to lock the door behind him

needless to say, he is your fuckboy now

-

masterlist

-

taglist:  @euphoricsunflowers, @baa-nana, @vanillaknj, @mingiibabieee, @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @soya-zz, @coeurbreak, @mellowriting , @submissive-bangtan

[dadsbongos]

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 

Hi 

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks 

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

~~

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 

That would be heaven.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 15 (Kiro’s Chapter) Part 4 [Double Courage] & [New Game] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!!! 

I decided to combine 2 parts into one post since 15-5 was short. Enjoy~

For the previous translation of Chapter 15: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

[Double Courage]

There was no sound of footsteps coming and going outside the door and I was the only one left in the empty utility room.

I know he is still outside. Looking at the closed door, I slowly stepped forward and lifted my head.

It suddenly occurred to me, when I first arrived at the hospital after hearing that Kiro had an accident.

At that time, he was also on the other side, refusing me.

I turned around, leaned against the door, and sat down. Soon, the sound of footsteps quietly leaving came to my ears.

I have to admit, I really can’t help him. I am not strong enough to make him feel more at ease.

People need to accept their own weaknesses and limitations in order to think about what they can do from their own perspective.

The whole space is quiet and my heart is surprisingly calm.

I closed my eyes and replayed all the scenes of my time with Kiro over and over again in my mind.

If I were Kiro, why would I need to use another identity while insisting on solving the problem alone?

If I was admitted to the hospital and refused to see anyone, it must be because there is a serious illness and I don’t know how to deal with others.

And I act alone because it may be dangerous and I don’t want to be dragged down by others or….

MC: Drag others down with me.

My brain is spinning so fast. I always feel that there is something that has constantly plagued me and I have come to a conclusion.

MC:…Kiro’s illness has not been cured?

So everything makes sense now.

From beginning to end, he never said why he was admitted into the hospital.

If he was attacked because of what he did, then he abandoned the identity of “Kiro” and acted under the identity of “Helios” which made it even more logical sense.

It is precisely because the illness has not been cured. He cannot expose his weakness but at the same time, he will also worry that he will be a burden to others because of this.

MC: Kiro, are you trying to be strong again?

Secretly covering up his wounds and then create an identity of another person to carry everything on his back.

But this shouldn’t be a world where only superheroes get hurt.

MC: Kilo, display location.

Following my instructions, an electronic map immediately laid out before my eyes. I looked towards the center of the map and was shocked.

Next to the little bear wearing a small flower is another bear.

Helios hasn’t left. He was just outside the door.

I remember coming in, passing by the fire control room.

I thought for a while, not worrying about it anymore, I reached out my hand and touched the head of the little bear that was close to me, as if I could the person behind it.

MC: Kiro, can you hear me?

As I expected, there was no response.

I carefully tapped the microphone on the collar twice and then muttered to myself.

MC: Kiro, I know you are there. You can just treat this as me talking to myself but listen to me, okay?

MC: I know that I am very small and there are many things I can’t do and can’t help much.

MC: I don’t think it is shameful to admit that I am weak, because I know where to move forward after realizing this.

MC: For example, right now I’m thinking, do I have to learn some hacking skills or any combat skills?

There was a vaguely violent cough outside the door and I couldn’t help but smile.

MC: I know you must have encountered something sad.

MC: I also know that I can’t help you with this. You are afraid that I will only worry more so you choose to stay away from me.

MC: But Kiro, do you know?

MC: Sometimes you are a coward and then you make yourself look strong.

Kiro:….MC

Kiro’s dull voice rang in my ears as if it came from the collar and also from the door behind him.

MC: Kiro, you don’t have to be so strong.

MC: Difficulty is like a giant beast with its teeth and claws bared. A little bear will inevitably be nervous and scared when facing it.

MC: But it doesn’t have to force itself to fight alone because if it were two bears, the courage would be doubled.

MC: The weapon to defeat the beast is often not any sharp knife, but the power of courage.

MC: My courage can be lent to you at any time.

There was a small voice and I knew he was listening to me carefully.

MC: I know you are working hard for everyone so I hope I can also help you in some way.

Next, I started to tell him all the information about the hunter game, Joker and the little boy I learned about.

Rather than watching him fight alone, I will accompany the superhero in my own way.

After Helios closed the door of the utility room, he took out the hidden mini computer from under the console of the fire control room.

This is his temporary stronghold. It is located in the center of the city so it is convenient for his system to scan the entire terrain of Loveland City.

After he hacked into the opponent’s map program and was kicked out, he came to a decision.

He wants to build a brand new system to replace the other party’s authority and control over Loveland.

He opened the program on the mini computer and took out another device.

After the device started up, a beam of light projected into the air, showing an unfinished 3D map.

He sat down and flicked his fingers quickly in the air and the program projected in the air began to change with his movements.

This is a program he developed overnight to scan a map of the city and it is more intuitive than a 2D map.

At the same time, he tried to hack into the opponent’s system again, only this time, he did not bother to snatch the program they made.

He just wants to use their system to master the information of all players and all supply points so that he can enter the next step of the plan.

He quickly worked out a plan to end the game, with every step interlocking. And the first step of all plans must be that she can stay safe.

He knows that once Kilo is enabled, his identity will be exposed to the girl.

But in such a chaotic situation, he can no longer consider that much to ensure her safety.

After finding her, his ecstatic mood made him temporarily forget the anxiety caused by those recent events.

He forgot for a while that Kiro is broken, lonely and silent.

When she heard that she was looking forward to meeting the healthy Kiro, he suddenly recovered.

He is no longer the same Kiro, at least not the Kiro she was expecting.

He still couldn’t stand in front of her as Kiro.

The girl’s voice chattered endlessly, but it made him calmer than ever.

When she said that she wanted to learn hacking techniques or combat skills, he couldn’t help but cough.

At that moment, he was sure that she was serious.

She said that he was a coward.

She said that he doesn’t need to be so strong.

Helios tapped his fingers on the keyboard and gradually stopped.

Never compromise, never give up.

He feels his heart slowly being peeled off. There is a force pushing him forward.

She was right. As long as she was by his side, he would gain great courage.

This courage can support him to do many things and make him feel even more strength.

And the information she brought was really helpful to him.

Although he had investigated some information long ago, some of it was the first time he had heard of it.

The name Joker and Evol may be the main messenger of the game and the boy who can provide teleportation for him.

The so-called “ghost” to “human” transmission is actually done by this young man.

He frowned and began to think about what changes his plan needed to make as a result.

Fast fingers flew over the keyboard again and a “beep” came from multiple devices at the same time.

He raised his eyebrows slightly and his eyes showed unstoppable sharpness.

After scanning the three-dimensional map of the city, the player’s information points have been fully entered, the locations of the supply points have been disclosed to him, and the girl’s location information has also been erased from the game.

Helios: This game is mine.

[New Game]

I leaned against the door and suddenly felt a vibration from my phone. When I picked it up, I found that the phone had a black screen.

Before I had a chance to restart it, the screen automatically lit up and then a line of words were displayed.

“Welcome to the new hunter game.”

New hunter game? I was stunned for a moment, before I realized what had happened, the word “hunter” was marked with a red “X” by the animation effect.

MC: Welcome to…..the new hunter game?”

The red animation effect keeps flashing on the screen, seeming to constantly emphasize the concept of “new game”.

Did Joker change the rules of the game? Why cross out the word “hunter”? What does he want to do?

Unsettling emotions came to my mind. I subconsciously wanted to call Helios but I heard a familiar voice come over the phone.

??: Now, the game management rights will be changed.

??: I hereby announce, the new game has officially started.

This voice….is Helios!

I looked at the phone in disbelief and saw the screen change along with his voice.

“Hunter Game Is Out”

Helios: All the rules of the hunter game are invalidated.

Helios: There is only one rule you have to abide by—“No harm to anyone.”

I looked at the big words “NO FIGHT” displayed on the screen and faintly guessed what Helios wanted to do.

Helios: The communication method will now be opened, allowing all players to establish contact.

Helios: The game system adds a help platform and anyone who needs assistance can upload coordinates.

Helios: The map resumes normal use and all supply points will be publicly marked.

When he released these rules, the signal of my mobile phone showed full frame synchronously; a dialog box for help also popped up on the screen.

Then the phone automatically opened a brand new Loveland City map which not only showed the locations of all supply points but also a panoramic 3D map.

Helios: But don’t be too happy. My game will only be harder.

Helios: All of you, still have to follow my rules.

His tone was blunt, as if he was really the master of the game.

I was a little puzzled. Helios is clearly helping everyone to restore peace in Loveland. Why is he deliberately being so cold?

Although the fog has not dissipated, he can directly announce the end of the game. Why would he go the other way and announce the new rules of the game?

At this time, the screen switched to the surveillance on the streets of Loveland City and Helios seemed to have set up thermal imaging technology to clearly see colorful figures on the screen.

After seeing the contents of the surveillance clearly, my eyes widened unexpectedly—

Many people still pushed and scrambled for the aerosol at the replenishment point, fighting hard, and the scene was chaotic.

It seems that the so-called “new game” and “new rules” are meaningless to them.

Faintly, I seem to understand something.

Even if the game itself is stripped away, some people will still be dominated by fear or some kind of temptation and continue to dwell in the cold-blooded fighting.

So is this also Helios’ consideration?

I looked back at the closed wooden door waiting for his answer.

Helios: If someone insists on going their own way and continue to compete for limited resources…

Helios: The aerosol that you’re competing for will be ineffective at the moment.

Before he finished his words, everyone on the screen seemed to be taken aback. Several people raised the aerosols in their hands and panicked.

Helios: This is my game.

Helios: If you don’t believe me, you can try it.

The picture automatically zoomed in and the aerosol in the person’s hand was clearly exposed---the aerosol valve was automatically opened.

The crowd seemed to have finally realized the existence of the new game and stood there facing each other.

This is the meaning of Helios building a new game—

If the game is announced directly, everyone will continue to compete for aerosol if the fog is not effectively resolved.

That’s why he created another image of the game controller and introduced new game rules.

The purpose is to establish authority, let everyone follow his instructions, and get out of the mindset of fighting in a more orderly manner.

Helios: If you want to live, you must act according to my rules.

Helios: All players will be divided into three levels and displayed on your mobile phone screens according to the length of the remaining survival time.

Helios: Sub-level players need to help emergency level players to obtain aerosol.

Helios: The more people you help, the higher the ranking will be.

Helios: The highest-ranked person can still get a generous bonus.

Helios: Remember, “you are the game itself.”

Helios: Looking forward to your wonderful performance.

Helios completely changed the rules of the game.

If it can be executed smoothly, it will make the hunter game lose its original meaning.

It turns out that this is his “own way” to solve the hunter game?

While sighing, I was also a little worried.

The current situation is undoubtedly a huge change for Joker. In order to take back control,  he will certainly not give up.

I was about to remind Helios to be vigilant but suddenly there was a slight noise outside the door. Helios opened the door in the next second.

Helios: Let’s go.

Helios: Someone has snuck in.

-End of Part 4-

Continue to Part 5 

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

what are your takes on the reconciliation? i personally feel it's imposible, not bc of WWX's ability to forgive but bc i don't think he even needs an apology or to be thanked. i don't think he would resent JC for anything done to him and if he really wanted to apologize WWX would probably tell him to apologize to LSZ and WN not to him but i doubt WWX would ever feel confortable around him again even then, what he did to the wens is not something you can get over even if they forgive him

Funnily enough, I was about to make a silly take on this with a gif lol. So, thank you for asking for my more serious thoughts on reconciliation to save myself from being a clown for the night. (Probably will still post it later though since I have no shame and the night is young)

I think what was shown within the novel, was as true of a "reconciliation" as the two could have gotten between them.

Wei WuXian, “Uh, I think it’s best if you… also stop keeping it on your mind. I know you’ll definitely always keep it on your mind, but, how should I say it…” He held onto Lan WangJi’s hand, saying to Jiang Cheng, “Right now, I do really think… it’s all in the past. It’s been too long. There’s no need to struggle with it any longer.”

This is Wei Wuxian extending the only thing he can do between them, which is letting things settle in peace, move on safely, to start somewhere new in both of their lives without the other. Wei Wuxian had never wanted Jiang Cheng's thanks for what he had chosen to do, he had done it out of love, which for Wei Wuxian can't be measured in debts owed. He is urging Jiang Cheng to let go of a past that will only haunt him unhappily, they can't gain whatever had been lost. And I think Wei Wuxian had long known that before Jiang Cheng given he does not treat Jiang Cheng and he the same as he once did and had drawn a line of boundaries between each other well before Guanyin Temple. Note that he never once calls Jiang Cheng "shidi" after the timeskip as he once affectionately had.

Wei Wuxian does not ask for apologies to himself, he tells Jiang Cheng to apologize for his remarks to Lan Wangji more than once due his own sense of loyalties for those that extend their kindness to him as his own shame doesn't take precedent.

Wei WuXian took the flute. Remembering that Jiang Cheng was the one who brought it, he turned over there and commented casually, “Thanks.” He waved Chenqing, “I’ll… be keeping this?”

Jiang Cheng glanced at him, “It was yours in the first place.”

After a moment of hesitation, his lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something else. However, Wei WuXian had already turned to Lan WangJi. Seeing this, Jiang Cheng remained silent.

By this point hours later Wei Wuxian is once again subconsciously showing where he has drawn the line. Taking to heart what he had said they should do, not take what had once happened to heart anymore and stop thinking about it. And once Wei Wuxian has made something clear he follows through with exactly what he had said he would do.

I think Wei Wuxian had made his intentions known, and as he says later he would rather remember the kindness and happiness in his life than the worst of it. He doesn't need a reconciliation, he is with the family he has found and made for himself without being pushed away and takes the unconditional love that is offered to him. I had once likened his inquires in the extras like how someone would about an old past friend, of course you would ask about their well-being and hope the best, but that does not mean you want to ever really see them again in person after that relationship was shut and closed. It is bittersweet, but broken friendships always feel like that, a piece of someone will always care about who they used to be close to and Wei Wuxian was always very caring in his sentimentality even with the bad. But he does not crave for anything else from Jiang Cheng any longer as he has found his happiness with who he wanted.

As for Jiang Cheng, I think he needs to finally learn to ultimately be by himself and learn to be himself without his hold onto past dead hopes. He had built his reputation on that in a world that is ultimately moving on and changing while he stagnated in his unchanging hate for 13 years. But he no longer had that tether to continue it on any longer. His life didn't end with Wei Wuxian's death, and it didn't end when he fully confronted Wei Wuxian with his hate. He's given a chance to be out of what he thought was forever Wei Wuxian's shadow, and personally I think, even if he "loved" Wei Wuxian, he never truly liked him as he never tried to understand Wei Wuxian as a person.

There is a lot of matters that can't be buried between them, as people they are polar opposites in what they want and cherish. They are not what the other needs in their life. I think Jiang Cheng's lesson is to move past a life that he had made a habit of to be selfish and Wei Wuxian was a passive catalyst that had helped him to fester that. Sometimes, it is just simply the better option to leave each other and move on without the possibility of being friend's for ones own peace. And reconciliation isn't always as satisfying as a fairy tale in real life, nor should it be an award for the bare minimum show of humanity to another.

[shararsblog]

Bharatiya Janata party celebrates selection of Basavaraj Bommai as Karnataka chief minister as gangwars continue unabated on the streets of Bengaluru.

(03/08/2021)

Prime minister Narendra Modi and BJP should not celebrate Bommai's elevation to chief minister's post, they should be mourning for the pitiful state that so called world class city Bengaluru is in today. And predecessor Yeddyurappa's failure to free Bangalore from gangsters grip.

Basavaraj Bommai - New Chief Minister of Karnataka.

So finally the BJP parliamentary board on Yeddyurappa's recommendation choose Basavaraj Bommai as CM. That the chief minister's responsibility is towards all the cities within the state, but in Karnataka's case the problem of one city Bengaluru has been gigantic more than compared to cities like Hubli-Dharwad Mangaluru, Mysuru, Belgaum and others. And 61 year old mechanical engineering graduate Mr Bommai is well versed with Bengaluru's problems and who better than him, as he was the home minister before. And as rowdies go on wreaking havoc in city, my question is who is going to stop them? The hardworking family of Bengaluru and poor people who are struggling to provide the best for their families have completely lost faith in the Bengaluru police and it is they who get caught in the cross hairs of these gangsters. Can the new chief minister end the rowdies menace in Bengaluru? Can Basavaraj Bommai make a difference and show he has it in him to wipe out the rowdies from Bengaluru's every nook and corner unlike his predecessors Yeddyurappa, Kumaraswamy, Siddaramaiah, Jagadish Shettar and SM Krishna who were mere fence sitter chief minister's.

Why are the Bengaluru police hesitating to go in an aggressive mode against the gangsters? One reason here can be attributed to lack of support from the chief minister or home minister, and the political patronage provided by politicians to criminals. 6 out of every 10 MLA's in Karnataka assembly have links with notorious rowdies in their own constituencies. BJP on its part cannot wash hands off its sins here, because BJP is the party in power in Karnataka and Amit Shah holds the home portfolio here in central government. But the shame and irony within BJP remains and so does lawlessness in Bengaluru. The only good thing that Amit Shah has done in his capacity as home minister is to target opposition parties in rule in states like Kerala, West Bengal etc. He has continuously targeted West Bengal CM Mamata Banerjee over law and order issues in Bengal and goondaism by Trinamool Congress leaders, true that TMC leaders have indulged in goondaism and also urged it's party workers to create terror, but Mr. Shah before pointing fingers at others, you should first clear garbage in your own backyard. Amit Shah being the home minister of central government, you are right in your concerns of lawlessness in West Bengal, but what about the lawlessness in Bengaluru in Karnataka.

Also police reforms which needs to undergo a gigantic change here in India despite the Supreme court of India clearly stating that it be done at the earliest, the Modi government seems unperturbed and casual in its approach. Police reforms are a slew of measures that need to be undertaken to break the police-criminal nexus at lower ranks and many more problems in police department. But despite the police reforms remaining unchanged, that cannot be the yardstick of excuse for police commissioners for failure to bring down crime in their respective cities. In my view the police chiefs leave Bengaluru city but in any part of the world, their foremost priority should be to bring down crime to zero, if not zero but at the level at least where people can breath easy and feel safe, they must instill fear in the minds of criminals for law enforcement agencies, and above all no political interference in working of police. All these things are completely missing in Bengaluru. Its high time Bengaluru's police stop flexing their muscles on innocent public, I wish they take on rowdies seriously. Because the rowdies of Bengaluru have gone beyond the police lathis, it has no more effect on them, the only language they understand now is the language of bullets. Also we need to understand here that the servants learn what their masters teach. Now look at how much rotten subsequent Karnataka governments have become in terms of corruption, either it is congresses Siddaramaiah who was the chief minister or Kumaraswamy's tenure as CM and BJP's Yeddyurappa, these very Chief minister's who before elections blabbered about good governance, various schemes for poor people and other promises, once they got elected showed their true colours. For instance, post covid and the brutal second wave that led to lockdown all over India, in Karnataka things have come to such a pathetic state, that police have been entrusted with imposing fines on people without masks, I have no objection in them imposing fines for those without masks, but when these very politicians and their rowdy party workers did break the covid protocol by not following rules, the same police remained mute spectators. So law in Karnataka is only for common public the minister's, rowdies are free to break law. The police machinery in Bengaluru has been turned into hafta collection force more than law enforcement force. Increasing harrasement of motorists by Bengaluru's traffic police for fines, is another indication of frustration of Karnataka government. That the biggest investors in real estate industry in Bengaluru have been the Karnataka's politicians and it is not a hidden secret. Malls, flats and commercial complexes in every nook and corner of Bengaluru city, you name it and some other minister's, MLA'S are involved in investment. Also Bengaluru being an IT hub the main buyers or customers for real estate sector are the software professionals, post lockdown many of these IT employees played safe by not buying these properties, also those who came to Bangalore from other states went back to their homes as companies started work from home policy. And new upcoming real estate projects with huge investments by politicians faced the brunt, with construction work stopped and losses to the tune of thousands of crores of rupees. Now this has resulted in more frustration for government with fresh property registrations going down in huge numbers and extremely low income from real estate market. The frustrated Karnataka government has now taken to loot the public through police, by way of targeting motorists, for false traffic violations, wearing of masks etc, whereas rowdies have a field day on the streets of Bengaluru.

Also when I am saying false traffic violation cases, people may say it as an exaggeration of comment, but this is the fraud being committed by Bengaluru traffic cops for some time now. An incidence of proof of this fraud by police, was highlighted by my own family member, whose friend who had been staying in France for close to three months on his return back to India, received a slew of messages from Bengaluru traffic police for violations relating to traffic in various areas within Bangalore, irony as it is when the concerned person was not even present in India, just look at the desparate attempt to loot the public by the police and government. This is just a tip of the ice berg in corruption within Bangalore police. So deep rooted has the rot of corruption become in Karnataka state, that not just the Police department but even BBMP, the Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike has officials neck deep in corruption, I will come to the blog on irregularities in BBMP later on.

Left to right: Karnataka state BJP affairs incharge Arun Singh, former Chief minister BS Yeddyurappa and newly appointed CM Basavaraj Bommai.

Also Arun Singh the incharge for BJP party affairs in Karnataka needs to urgently address the happenings in Bengaluru to Prime minister Narendra Modi, if BJP on its part is serious in removing the dent on reputation of the city, which has happened not only at national level but at international level too, then they should take steps to turn it into a world class city as claimed by Yeddyurappa which in reality is not, also focus on one objective to end rowdies menace which has spread its ugly tentacles throughout Bengaluru.

(Above news of crime in 'Times of India' edition Bengaluru section dated 29th July 2021). Complete Lawlessness: Rowdy Harish Kumar who was murdered by his rivals in broad daylight.

Prime minister Narendra Modi who on every Sunday gives his opinion to the people of India through government run 'Doordarshan' channel titled, 'maan ki baat' is far away from reality of problems that the public faces. His speech can best be described as chest thumping of his governments scheme's, though there is nothing wrong in the prime minister of a country reach out to people and air the good work done by govt and it's benefits to the people, but will the prime minister be transparent and speak out his maan ki baat about the rising crime graph in Bengaluru? His own party rules Karnataka and his own partyman former Chief minister Yeddyurappa has called Bengaluru as a world class city. So honourable prime minister, what does your inner subconscious mind tells you? Do you agree with Mr. Yeddyurappa's comments? Prime minister Modi you need to rise above politics first, and talk about increasing lawlessness in your own party ruled state. But despite my severe criticism of BJP rule in Karnataka and it's failure of law and order in Bangalore, I must admit that Narendra Modi is the best prime minister India has had till date. Uri surgical strike and Balakot airstrikes go on to prove that he stood by his words before coming to power, about befitting reply to Pakistan, also aggressive combing operations in Jammu and Kashmir to flush out Pakistani terrorist's, shows the free hand given to Indian army by Prime minister Modi. The result in the past 2 years the highest number of Jaish and Lashkar-e-Toiba terrorist's including their top commanders have been killed. So PM Narendra Modi has delivered on his promise of hammering terrorist's, the result today we see is Pakistan became wary and quiet and Kashmir largely peaceful. So his efficiency in fighting terrorism has been largely successful, but when it comes to rising crime graph within India, and especially Bengaluru the Modi government has failed miserably. Now that Bengaluru is officially India's crime capital, looking at Bharatiya Janata party and it's leaders lethargic attitude, the city will very soon become the world's no 1 crime city.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

(Part 1) Thank you for keeping this blog going. There are few in the fandom who gives as much attention to detail as you do, and I always look forward to reading you blog. Long ask below, which had to be split into 4 parts.

Thank you for enjoying my blog!

I’m always happy to know there’s people who enjoy it!

Now, for your questions:

1) Yuusaku is basically cannon fodder. Even if Ogata didn't shoot him, he was unlikely to live through the war. Russo-Japanese War was the first to witness the carnage rapid firing lines could do to an infantry charge; standard bearers in those days were basically on suicide missions. This was why it was mostly phased out by WWI. I'm surprised Yuusaku even lived through more than one charge. Was Hanazawa senior aware that grooming his favorite son to be the standard bearer, while glamorous, was going to get him killed?

1) As sad as it is, back then ALL THE INFANTRY was sadly cannon fodder, a beaviour that will continue even during WWs.

Yuusaku, being at the head of the charge each time, had more chances to get killed than the others but it’s actually a matter of luck as, not only the others were close by, but soldiers didn’t really take aim when shooting (except for snipers), they just aimed their weapons in the enemy’s general direction and fired.

Still, it was all a matter of luck.

Sugimoto (who’s ironically based on a real soldier) managed to survive to plenty of charges, others didn’t manage to survive to their first charge.

Yuusaku didn’t have to die just because he was a flag bearer... but surely the odds were against him.

As for Hanazawa in truth the situation is much more complicate.

I’m pretty sure Hanazawa wasn’t happy Yuusaku HAD TO BE the flagbearer. As far as he was involved he had only one son and that one was Yuusaku and back then heirs were important and if he were to die Hanazawa would remain without one since it’s clear he never planned to acknowledge Ogata.

The problem isn’t so much that he wanted Yuusaku to be the flagbearer, is that he couldn’t avoid Yuusaku being the flagbearer.

Out of bad luck Yuusaku was a second lieutenant back then and unmarried, therefore virgin (because they had already moved in a time in which having a lover wasn’t respectable). And, of course, being the son of Hanazawa Yuusaku was expected to check all the other requisites a flag bearer had to have, being handsome, high achiever and a paragon of moral virtue.

In short he was perfect for the job.

Beign the flag bearer was a honour and refusing it was a sign of cowardice that would have tossed shame on the whole family.

If Hanazawa had stopped Yuusaku from being a flag bearer, Yuusaku would have lost face and Hanazawa with him and since Hanazawa was a big shoot in the army during the war this would have turned into a huge problem.

And then there’s also what Koito senior said.

Someone had to be the flag bearer. Stopping his son from doing so to protect him and therefore sacrifice someone else son would be viewed as inexcusable.

As much as I hate Hanazawa I recognize he couldn’t keep Yuusaku out of the position.

For me his sin, in regard to Yuusaku, is more that he had told him not to kill. While a sword can’t really stop a Maxim gun, during the charge they would get in close contact with other soldiers, soldiers who could kill him. Using his sword to defend himself would increase his odds to survive.

Hanazawa instead, realizing the chances for Yuusaku to survive were dim, likely preferred to use him till the end as some sort of pure idol to fulfil a theory of his own at whom the soldiers might not even believe that, if Yuusaku weren’t to kill, soldiers would remain pure as well and wouldn’t feel guilty.

Of course it can be that Yuusaku actually wasn’t so good with the sword. Maybe if he were to try to defend himself not only he would fail but this would lower the troops’ morale. As an idol instead Yuusaku is protected by the soldiers who see him as their personal amulet of good luck.

In this case in a way Hanazawa took the best decision both for him and the troops. We know too little to tell... but I’m pretty sure Hanazawa knew there were few chances Yuusaku would survive.

In his position he couldn’t possibly not know.

Sure is Yuusaku seems to believe everything his father says without thinking at it too much.

When he explains his reasons to Ogata... well, they aren’t really his reasons but what his father told him. He didn’t rielaborate, didn’t internalize, didn’t think it over.

It’s just ‘daddy told me so therefore I do it in this way’.

2) I wonder what was going through Ogata’s mind, watching Yuusaku run into the meat grinder. At that moment maybe it occurred to him that being Hanazawa’s favorite son came with a heavy price tag.

Everything comes with a price tag... but objectively both Ogata and Yuusaku were risking to die in that war and if Ogata was left more often in the trenches, where it was slightly safer, shooting at enemies, it was merely because he was lucky he was gifted at shooting otherwise he could have been right next to Yuusaku running, charge after charge... only he never enjoied an ounce of Yuusaku’s benefits.

The truth is that people who come from a privileged situation like Yuusaku, Koito, Tomoharu, Ueji or Chiyotarou, aren’t insured to have a happy life free of danger. They can be as miserable as the next guy and can end up in troubles way bigger (Ueji even went insane after all, Yuusaku died, Tomoharu wasn’t up to fulfil his family expectations, Chiyotarou get bullied, Koito had no support when he lost his brother...).

But they will also be sheltered by way too many things that make life miserable and will be given chances that others can only dream.

So yes, being Hanazawa’s legittimate son came with a heavy price tag but being Hanazawa’s illegittimate son not only also came with a heavy price tag but was bereft of the benefits being Hanazawa’s legittimate son could offer.

3) He must also know that Yuusaku getting KIA is a matter of (very short) time. Tsurumi must know that too, so he called off the kill.

Honestly I believe the only reason Tsurumi called off the kill was because he wanted to push Ogata to kill Yuusaku on his own. Ogata showed a softer side with Koito when he kidnapped him, giving him a sweet and conforting him...

...but that’s not all. When he carried Yuusaku in a brothel and Yuusaku turned down his idea to have fun with the girls he could have gotten Yuusaku drunk or forced him in another way. He didn’t. He let him go and made sure he wasn’t seen as he left, when he could have let Yuusaku’s reputation being tarnished just by letting him being seen.

Tsurumi mentions noble blood deliberately, sure this would be a jab at Ogata.

He pinned the two brothers one against the other trying to recreate the situation that pushed Usami to kill Tomoharu and it worked. Only Ogata wasn’t enamoured of Tsurumi as Usami was.

4) Yet Ogata killed him anyways. Maybe he thought since Yuusaku was going to die anyways, why not use him as an experimental guild-trip?

I’ll say it’s more than experimentation. In addition to Tsurumi subtly pinning him against Yuusaku there’s to say all Ogata wanted was his father’s love and attention, and he had seen Koito getting it after his brother died.

Plus Yuusaku made the mistake of stepping in a minefield.

Ogata is a man who represses his guilt, who has learnt to do it as a child when he killed his mother, whom he loved. For Ogata is a cornerstone in his own development he doesn’t feel guilty because ‘he had a reason for his mother’s murder’.

And Yuusaku then goes and tell him this is impossible, that he has to feel guilt.

...and Ogata, who’s stuck between his own maladaptive copying mechanism, his wish to be normal, and his deep desire to be loved by his father, kills him, again telling himself since he has a reason, he wont’ feel guilty.

Only he will feel guilty despite being in deep denial over it but that’s a talk for another post.

5) Now I have a feeling that deliberately killing Yuusaku is just another lie he tells himself. Maybe it wasn’t deliberate, but the most egregious failure he made as a sniper for which he spun a whole narrative for: he kill Yuusaku by friendly fire.

I think Ogata genuinely believed he had shoot to Yuusaku and killed him. In short, I believe he aimed and shoot. Of course it’s possible he missed, subconsciously or by coincidence and, ironically, Yuusaku was killed by someone else, either by incident or deliberately so as to delude Ogata into thinking he had killed him.

Plot wise though I don’t see the point of having Yuusaku die due to an accident because, if this were to be the case, it would never be possible to discover it... unless Ogata were to remember his bullet actually hit another target... or it were to turn out the bullet in Yuusaku’s head wasn’t the one of a type 30.

It might be different if it was someone else who had shoot him, making Ogata believe it had been him, like how ‘by a coincidence’ Tsukishima had learnt of the whole Igogusa’s story about how her corpse was dug up.

However, as Usami pointed out, Yuusaku was shot perfectly in the center of the back of his head... and Usami knows no one else in the 7th who could do it.

So unless Tsurumi has an extra sniper we’re unaware of, it would be hard for him to stage Yuusaku’s death so that Ogata would believe he were the killer.

So I don’t know.

But I think the real key in the whole thing isn’t if Ogata has killed his brother or not, but that he believes he has done it and, contrary to what he thought, he feels guilty as hell for having done it to the point he hallucinates Yuusaku each time he’s not in his best shape or even when he is and he’s about to do something he feels he might regret afterward.

But of course this is just me.

Thank you for your ask!

[sohin-ace]

Bucciarati - Kitten

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

It was late in the evening and you were currently sneaking inside the headquarters of Passione with a long coat covering you.

Bruno had sent you on a solo mission and you were out all day. When you came back, it was already very late, you had taken more time than intended to get back to the hideout and most of the gang members were already fast asleep.

You slowly unlocked the door and snuck in as quietly as you could to not disturb the guys and most of all, to not bring attention to the little secret you were currently hiding.

You hugged your long coat close to you as you closed the door carefully, but the moment you were about to turn around and bolt to your room, you were startled by Bruno switching on the light of the entryway.

You gasped loudly and jumped as you whipped your head around. "Y-you scared me Bruno..."

He only crossed his arms against his chest and looked down at you, a stern look on his face.

"Do you know what time it is, young lady?"

Your lips shook slightly as you were trying to find the right words. "I-I... Um... It's- uh... How do I say it..."

"I don't remember sending you to Bamako for this mission. Why. Are. You. This. Late?" He spoke softly but with such a demanding tone it made you even more nervous. You hated making Bruno angry.

"Uhhhh.... You see, I was... When I was coming back.... I had to take a weird path, there was some constructions on the road, and then the cops blocked the main street and also this drunk guy seemed to follow me? Weird. So I panicked but then this Egyptian man came in and did some weird tricks with fire and it was really cool!"

You blurted random things that didn't make any sense to try and make him let you off the hook, but of course, he wasn't buying any of it.

Tired of your bullshit and knowing you would ramble weird things again, he dropped the question and instead pointed at your jacket, his other hand resting on his hip.

"What's with the long coat? It's not even that cold and I'm pretty sure you didn't bring it with you when you left."

Suddenly, a small meow was heard startling both you and Bruno and you tensed up, trying to cover it as best as you could.

"DRUGS!!!! I'm doing drugs!" You blurted out the first excuse that came to your stupid mind and you wanted to slap yourself the moment you said it.

You turned slightly to the side as the little animal moved under your coat and you struggled to hide it from your Capo who was raising a questioning eyebrow at you, almost amused.

"Drugs huh?" he fought back a smirk. "Yeah, that makes absolute sense to bring back drugs here in Passione, and admitting it to me of all people." He pressed on as he watched you squirm.

You struggled even more as another meow came out of your incriminating trench coat and you panicked.

"W-well, it was nice but I'm super tired, I'll see you in the morning, bye Bruno, buona notte-" As you tried to slip past him and run to your room, The tall male quickly grabbed your shoulder and stopped you in your tracks.

"Open the jacket, Y/N."

"N-no, I'm cold..." you shakily argued, not daring looking at him.

"Don't force me to lick your face, Y/N, you know I hate the taste of liars." He spat out with disgust and you gulped, slowly turning around and looking down.

"Please don't lick my face..." you pouted and he insisted.

"Then open the damn jacket, Y/N."

You carefully loosened your grip on the material, and without losing a second, a tiny furry head popped out of your collar, meowing almost agressively at Bruno, as if to tell him to stop nagging you.

The tall male looked at the kitten with astonishment, then at your blushing face.

"Y/N, what's the meaning of this?"

You hugged the cat inside your coat, subconsciously bringing your hand to caress its head as it started nuzzling into your touch, rubbing its face on your neck and letting out loud purrs.

"H-he was all alone in an alley and it was going to rain so I... I thought... Maybe..." you trailed off hesitantly and a bit sad.

You knew he wouldn't let you keep it. It was too much responsibility and Passione was not a stable place to take care of a small animal. But you couldn't just let the poor kitten die alone in the streets.

Bruno's expression softened on you as he sighed fondly. At the end of the day, he couldn't be mad at you, you were just like him. A natural caretaker who couldn't let a fragile being all alone.

"Y/N... I didn't know you liked animals."

He approached you and the kitten hissed at Bruno who was unfazed by the cat's threats. He then tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and glided his hand from your ear to your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.

"I'll close my eyes on it this time. Prove to me that you can take care of him. I'll talk with the boys, but you have to make sure he won't trouble any of us. Understood?"

You nodded at him, your expression lighting up instantly "Thank you so much Bruno! I won't disappoint you!"

"I know..." he chuckled softly and looked into your beaming eyes, happy and relieved that you were safe and that the reason you were so late was actually just because of your undying kindness towards an animal.

You smiled and he brushed his thumb over your cheek. Upon seeing this, the small cat reached out with his tiny claws and tried to scratch Bruno's wrist away from you.

You tried to calm him down by patting his head again. You looked from the cat to Bruno, a little bit worried.

"... He doesn't like you that much."

"Maybe he's jealous." Bruno looked down smugly at the kitten but his expression soon fell. "I can't blame him... I'm a bit jealous too."

He stared at your delicate fingers caressing the animal and how you lovingly held him against your soft-looking chest, sharing your sweet warmth with him. Bruno suddenly wished that he was that cat. That you would touch him with the upmost care and hold him close against you and feel your heartbeat.

His face felt warm just by thinking about it.

"You? Jealous? Of the kitty?" You questioningly looked from Bruno to the cat who was slowly falling asleep under your tender touch.

Bruno couldn't resist anymore and he leaned down, landing a slow but passionate kiss on your lips. You blushed, startled by his sudden action, but you eventually closed your eyes as you melted into the kiss.

You felt light as Bruno was sending you all his love through his warm lips and you wanted time to stop. Sadly, he separated from you, breaking the kiss painfully slowly as he lingered in the feeling of your soft lips on his. You struggled to open your eyes and looked to his blue ones.

"You're a sweet girl, Y/N." He whispered against your lips and your heart skipped a beat at the subtle contact and his breathy voice. Bruno was so bold yet so gentle.

"Why...?" you asked him while staring at him in a love-struck daze, you brain barely processing what was happening.

"Since now I have competition, I need to step up my game." He glanced at the sleeping cat on your chest and swore to himself that he'd be next. "Did you like it?"

"YES!" You blurted a bit to eagerly and immediately brought a hand to your mouth in shame as your eyes widened. His sultry tone and the tickle of his breath on your skin made you lose your mind.

Bruno chuckled at your cute behavior as he straightened himself up. "Good. See you in the morning, Y/N."

He patted your head and walked away as you tried to calm down your pounding heart down. You slowly and dizzily went to your room, hoping your loud heartbeat wouldn't wake up the little cat.

"Oohh my goodd! So cute !!!" Trish squealed as she came back, only to find what seemed to be the newest member of Passione.

"Oohhh whose kitty is this?? It's so tiny!!" Narancia stared at the baby cat like it was the first time he ever saw one in his life, which was probably the case.

The cat was running and jumping around everywhere until Giorno crouched in font of him and carressed him all over, which made the cat stop and roll to his back, purring and loving each second of Giorno's affection.

"Ew, someone get that gross thing away from me." Abbachio said with disgust.

You looked at him, unsure if he was talking about Giorno or about the cat.

"Why did you bring a cat here? Is capo okay with that?" Mista asked as he turned towards you and you shrugged.

"He's okay as long as I teach him to be clean and not destroy everything."

"What are you gonna call it, Y/N?!" Narancia asked all giddy, obviously happy with the small addition to the team.

"Huh..." You thought for a moment then you looked at the kitten with an idea. "Bacio."

"Ooh that's romantic, Y/N!" Trish said as she played with the cat's paws.

"Hmmmh, in what honor? That's a pretty cute name." Mista questionned teasingly with a little smirk and you looked behind you, noticing Bruno watching the scene from the hallway.

Your face reddened a bit and you looked back at the team surrounding the cat.

"... Oh, just like that." You said softly, a bit to yourself but Mista still heard you.

"...Wait, no!! Don't call it that! It sounds like my name!!!" Abbachio yelled, offended.

"Eeh, no, Bacio is a cute name! It suits the cat better than you anyways!" Narancia said, not even caring what the goth thought.

"I like it too." Giorno said as he glanced at Bruno who was coming to you.

"Bacio, huh?" He stood behind you and you turned your head to nod at him. He smiled and looked at the cat again. "Fitting."

Mista stared back and forth from you to Bruno with a look of pure confusion on his face.

"...Wait. Did something happen with you two? What even is going on? Am I missing something?"

*kevin hart voice* Mind your DAAAAMN MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS MISTA!

[remus-lupin-is-my-type]

Where have I been? (a post for anyone who might still care lol)

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve taken a looooong hiatus from cosplay, but I’ve also taken a general hiatus from this blog as well. I wanted to take the time to explain some of the reasons why. Explanation below the cut.

1. Toxicity

I’ve had this blog for many, many years. It’s always been My Thing to follow back everyone. But in doing so, I’ve accidentally created a pretty decently toxic environment for myself on my own dash? It seems that wherever I scroll, there are people arguing, constant reminders of how terrible the world and society are, and people shaming other people for things they like. My once-fun dashboard of fandom and all things queer, has just become not quite fun anymore? Social justice issues are really important to me, deeply important, but constant reminders about how terrible the world is can really bring me down (particularly in these already troubling times). I know that running from it is a particularly privileged thing to be able to do (I may be pan, but I’m still white and cis), but sometimes I just gotta put myself and my own mental health first. One day I’m hoping to try to take back control of my blog and do some much needed purging, but it’s going to be a monumental task after so many years. But I really do miss reblogging fandom things. I’ve made a completely separate blog for all things Aesthetic that do nothing but make me happy—essentially creating my own little safe space. It’s been a great non-pressure, anonymous way to just de-stress, but I do miss mucking around in fandom nonsense. BUT this also brings me to another reason...

2. Supernatural and The Destiel Debacle

*spoilers ahead for the final season of SPN* That final scene with Cas absolutely destroyed me. I’m a few seasons behind, but when I woke up one morning and Destiel was trending everywhere, of course I looked up and watched the video. And guys. I SOBBED. Not just a few tears, full on WEPT for at least an hour. I was so heartbroken, not just because a beloved character died, but of how he died. The fact that Cas told Dean everything I’ve always wanted him to, but in the WORST WAY POSSIBLE, only for him to promptly die without Dean even saying anything. I just couldn’t deal. I was Properly Depressed for several days after that, and I still sometimes think about it and get really sad. I could have forgiven this, had they put Cas in the finale, gave you hope that maybe he and Dean could be something in Heaven, together, but no. Of course not. The whole thing genuinely put such a bad taste in my mouth for all fandom and network television in general. Also, it hurt me to see people actually calling this a WIN. I’m not here to take away anything from anyone—if you loved it, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But GUYS. It was CRUMBS. Is it great that Cas is a confirmed queer character? Sure, but they killed him the second his confession was over. Rowan Ellis did a great YouTube video about the whole thing, and I highly suggest you watch it, it really put things in perspective for me. The fact is, they had TWELVE YEARS to give you this, and they didn’t. It’s like Marvel expecting us to be singing their praises cuz a Russo brother mentioned a boyfriend, a few minutes out of their ENTIRE MOVIE FRANCHISE. Anyway, I was so disheartened I didn’t want to participate in fandom whatsoever. (Luckily, I’ve recently fallen in love with Black Sails—also thanks to Rowan Ellis—and its amazing writing, characters, story, and queer representation helped give me hope again).

3. Self-image 

This more directly relates to cosplay. I gained weight again, and my motivation to cosplay dropped significantly. Suddenly there just didn’t seem a point to getting into all the makeup and putting in the effort if I wasn’t going to like what I saw on the webcam. Luckily, I’ve recently read a FANTASTIC book called “What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat” by Aubrey Gordon, and it was honestly life-changing. It forced me to completely reframe how I think about myself and society, and I’ve actively been making an effort to feel better and unashamed in my own skin, and it’s been going well! I’ve stopped planning my entire life and happiness and worth around whatever number I wanted the scales to reflect. But, that being said, cosplay is still a struggle for me. Though I’m generally more accepting of myself now, I still find it difficult to play my favourite characters, almost all of which are attractive males. I’m admittedly hard on myself about it, my subconscious constantly telling me that I’m not androgynous enough or sexy enough to play these characters. Of course you don’t have to be these things to cosplay, I’m a huge advocate that ANYONE can cosplay WHOEVER they want, but this is what I, personally, am going through. One step at a time, as they say!

And that’s about it. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, and I make no promises. But maybe I’ll pop in to post a gay gifset or two sometime :) I’ve also been pondering TikTok a lot, so who knows, maybe that’ll be a thing in the future. This explanation was as much for my benefit as to those reading—it feels good to get this stuff off my chest and I hope you understand. Love you all so, so much and I hope you’re all getting nothing but the best out of this hell site lol ❤️

Stay safe and stay happy, Nicki xo

[polymathart]

Poly’s Poetic Over Analysis

“Great Expotations,” Tangled: The Series by Chris Sonnenburg

Varian ventures out with the professed intention of impressing his crush (and also presumably to impress his father, too). Cassandra casually remembers his name and rejects his innocent nickname for her, “Cassie.” She doesn't care that he is there. But Varian helps her out and relieves some of what clearly is an immense amount of weight on her shoulders that she had been carrying by herself all day. She “promises” to help him with some “dorky” project in exchange for him helping her do the work.

The two clearly begin to have fun in the process. And Cass even admits she admires his work (again, something he probably isn’t used to). Varian relishes in it and dares to make a cheeky little joke at her which she doesn’t even scorn or take as disrespectful. This leads her to say that the day was important to her but omits the reason why, most likely because she does not expect him to understand it and she herself is cautious to vent, especially to some kid she met a few weeks ago. But to her surprise, Varian actually picks up on what she is saying because he recognized who her father was. This prompts her to go more in depth and state her frustration that Captain pressured her so much. Varian sees this as an opportunity to let out his own grievances about his father’s standards. Not wanting to bring himself or her down, he makes another joke based on these recent revelations. Cass smiles. Why? Because she actually finds someone who knows what she is going through and has some trust in her and courage that he vents his own thoughts to her. Someone, other than Rapunzel, talked things out with her. And she sees that he wants to keep things positive rather than sad, so he made that joke to bring them both back up.

The clock is ticking and Cass is on the verge of giving up, but Varian, now fueled by both a desire to charm and a genuine sympathy for Cass, offers to take the rest of the day’s work so she can enjoy her opportunity. He only suggests, not begs or demands, that she join him later on if she had time. He makes it her decision to say yes or no. Cass returns to her more reserved disposition and says yes.

Cassandra finally gets her chance albeit a very frustrating chance. Varian awaits her but she does not show up. He decides to carry on his presentation nonetheless even with Shorty for a partner. Just because Cassandra did not come to him as his assistant, doesn’t mean he couldn’t go and make a name for himself. He shrugs it off. But he still has that affection for her. That’s why he still dedicates the stone to her when he could have easily named it something else to bite back at her. And Cassandra is astonished. She gasps that he actually named something after her. That someone actually admired and respected her and wanted to make her happy enough to dedicate something of careful and dedicated craftsmanship to her. She realized, “Wait, he seriously did that? He really dedicated his work to me of all people?” When she saw him disqualified, she even breaks her duty as a guard by speaking up for him. And then she witnesses him saunter away, defeated and robbed—something that she winces at because she is more than familiar with that exact feeling. But what she isn’t familiar with is the reality that she, the one who was often overlooked, actually caused someone to feel the same—she winced at the fact that this time she actually put someone else in her place.

So she abandons her post—I repeat, ABANDONS HER POST, aka negligence and disobedience to a direct order—to comfort him. At the fountain, she expresses that he should’ve won. This isn’t just an “Oh, darn! I was rooting for you!” She’s saying, “You really put a lot of effort into that and pulled off an incredible thing. You put up your best fight. You were so close to something you rightly deserved.” Varian is still saddened. With not much left to lose, he reveals to her face that he just wanted to impress her. He doubts himself, confesses he was chasing after fantasy, that he did not show anything special in him, and cuts to the conclusion that he was just being dumb for trying. Cassandra does not believe any of that. She assures him that she truly is impressed by his work and character. She does not say it reluctantly, as two competitors in a boxing match would do. She says it with enthusiasm and sincerity to him. She goes on to praise him for his virtues of intelligence, compassion, and uniqueness. She lifts him back up.

When disaster strikes, she is faced with a choice. The camera actually zooms in on her and shows her at first prioritize her charge and therefore her duty and opportunity. But she shakes off that voice in her head to protect her interests and instead chooses to save Varian—the boy who promised her no sort of reward, benefit, or opportunity; only friendship and understanding.

Varian’s life is saved again by her. Someone chose him over their job and quite possibly career. Cassandra briefly tells him not to flatter himself, still subconsciously concluding that he was just being lovestruck again.

She even brings him to the front at her side rather than go in herself and tell him to take cover. Or, did she go to the front at his side in? Did she accompany him to his fight? She looks to him for possibilities on how to stop it rather than straight to Rapunzel and Eugene or charging in with her sword drawn. She listens to him. Varian finally is the one to lead rather than be led. She works with him to solve the problem. She refuses to let him go in alone. She becomes his assistant at last. They save the day together with help from Rapunzel and company.

Cassandra picks up the ribbon sadly. She knows she has failed her duty to her father and jeopardized her prospects. But then she sees Varian and realizes that her duty as a friend was more important than her duty to her own dream.

Cassandra gives him his rightfully earned ribbon. Varian shows actual shock when she does. She really did believe in him. In return, Varian gives her the necklace. He says he made it for her—that to him, she was still worth the effort. Cass accepts it, grateful and touched. She apologizes. She sucks in her pride and admits her error. She names her wrong. She calls out her own ambition. She does not blame her duty or her father’s orders or claims that her hands were tied. She flat out accepts that this was her putting herself before others. She finally considers him a friend. She admits that there is a friendship between them that she values over her ambition. Varian softly forgives her, remembering that she had every right to care about her work, and is happy to finally have one more friend. Cassandra accepts “Cassie,” and Varian does not tease her or jokes about the nickname. He is just happy that she accepts it—another one of his “inventions.”

Varian concludes that he has to clean his mess up. He walks away without asking Cassandra for help. This is because he feels, from experience, that it was his fault. This could also partly be because he is not used to asking for help. Perhaps a hint of fear and shame in him does not want to seek help. But it could also be because he does not want to burden her and he wants to let her go enjoy the rest of her day. He does not want to take up any more of her time out. Most likely it is all four. As he Varian walks away, Cassandra faces her father and commanding officer. She gains his approbation and respect and trust for another assignment. Cassandra removes her helmet, a symbol of her ambition and her obedience to her father, Guard, and country, and hands it back to Captain. She turns down an order to his face. A subordinate refuses orders from a higher authority. A soldier refuses a direct order. Cassandra disobeys her father. She sets her friend before herself. She has a desire to help Varian even though he did not ask for help. She wants to maintain and enjoy her new friendship. Captain allows it. He is proud of her decision. He is proud of her performance as a guard and performance as a friend. Varian is surprised and honored that she chooses him over her father. This time, Cassandra does not tell Varian, “Don’t flatter yourself.” She lets him feel honored. After all, he’s honored her enough for one episode. Two characters receive their praise: Varian and Cassandra. And both play a part in each other’s achievement. Two characters who wish to please their fathers and prove themselves, succeed. But most of all, two people with similar struggles find one more new friend.

[officialbillhader]

Pool Boy (Macdennis)

Prompt: 80s AU where Dennis is a high power businessman and in a loveless marriage with his perfect wife Mandy, they live in a perfect mansion with their perfect children until Dennis gets feelings for their white trash pool cleaner with the beautiful brown eyes and bird that won’t quit. Fic is Notsfw! The nonsfw part is at the end. It also deals with cheating. Posted as chapter 17 of Now That I Found You (but it can be read as a stand alone). – “What’re the names of your family?” Frank points to the framed photo on his desk. 

Dennis thinks he should know by now considering they’ve been working together for a few years, but he digresses. Frank’s the type of dude to be petty enough to demote or fire Dennis for pointing that out.

“Wife is Mandy and the two children are Brian and Samantha." 

"Gorgeous family, huh?" 

"Oh, yeah. I’m very happy. Now, about the presentation tomorrow…”

***

It’s a fucking lie. He’s not happy, he hasn’t been happy since Mandy first got pregnant and all emotional and needy and suddenly he was expected to be a good husband and a good dad. Then Mandy got pregnant again and she was beyond excited but Dennis only became unhappier having to take care of a toddler and a pregnant wife, then a toddler and a baby, then he got his promotion and Dennis had them moved into a mansion just because they had the money to and it was easier to avoid his family in a bigger space. 

While all this happened, it was obvious that Mandy stopped loving him as much as he stopped loving her. She stopped trying to have sex, stopped trying to cuddle, stopped trying to talk about her day and his day. There’s a gap in the middle of their bed now, one that’s cold and unwrinkled. 

Now, he stays at work for as long as possible, working overtime each and every week, happiest when he comes home after dinner and the kids are already in bed. He’ll sit on the couch and drink beer until he knows Mandy is in their bed asleep, then he’ll go to bed. Sometimes Mandy will join him on the couch and give him updates about the house, but usually he ignores her until she goes away. 

Tonight is one of those nights. She plops down on the opposite side of the couch from him, her own beer in hand. He half-assedly greets her, then they’re silent for a long moment, staring at the TV, neither really watching it. 

Eventually, Mandy pipes up. “I hired a new pool cleaner. He’s coming on Saturday, but I’m going to be gone. Can you show him where the pool is?" 

Dennis grunts an agreement. "What time?" 

"Around nine, I think." 

"Okay.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go to bed, then. Goodnight, Dennis.” She doesn’t try to kiss him as she leaves. She stopped doing that long ago.

***

Saturday comes. Mandy wakes him up around eight, before she leaves, and reminds him to greet the pool cleaner. He doesn’t make any type of vocal response, but he also doesn’t go back to sleep. He gets up, takes a shower, gets dressed, then goes to the kitchen, only to find Samantha with her nanny. She yells out to him excitedly and runs towards him, being swooped into his arms with a hug. 

He loves his children. He truly does. But they don’t make him happy and they’re exhausting and if there’s one thing he’s learned in his life it’s that love can only go so far. 

Still, he ends up spending time with Samantha until he hears a knock on the front door and sends her back with her nanny. She protests, saying she wants to stay with him, but he doesn’t let her. Claims he has work to do, but, really, if he wanted to stay with her, he’d be able to.

He answers the door at the third time the bell is rung. He means to tell the pool boy off for being impatient, but his voice gets caught in his throat the moment he sees him. 

The pool boy is, surprisely, very attractive. He’s built well, he has soft eyes, a strong chin, floppy hair. He isn’t covered in dirt either, like Dennis subconsciously expected him to be. No, he’s actually quite clean and well groomed. Even his beard is trimmed exactly to fit his face shape.

“Sir?” Pool Boy says, concern on his face, and Dennis realizes Pool Boy’s been talking the entire time he’s been checking him out. 

“Oh, yeah– the pool,” he snaps out of it. “Follow me." 

***

Dennis watches Pool Boy work. It’s easy to do, after all. He sits out on the porch, lets the sun tan his skin, gets up and grabs a beer occasionally, and he watches as Pool Boy, well, cleans the pool. 

It’s a hard job. Mandy had fired their last pool cleaner back in the fall and hadn’t bothered to get a new one until now that it’s almost summer, so the pool never got any of the winter chemicals in it and was never drained of some of its water. It just sat, growing algea, for almost three whole seasons. Really, it needs to be entirely drained and scrubbed, but that’s for Pool Boy to figure out and do, not Dennis.

Right now he seems to be waiting as the pool drains water, looking at all his chemicals in the meantime and comparing them. 

Dennis finishes his third beer of the morning, afternoon, whatever. When he gets up to get another one, he figures he might as well offer Pool Boy some water or a beer or something. He calls out to him and Pool Boy nearly jumps out of his skin, running his head in circles before he finds the source of the sound. 

"Do you want anything to drink?” Dennis asks. 

Pool Boy seems hestitant to answer at first, then he seems to get over his nerves. “Can I have some water, Mr. Reynolds?” he requests. 

“Please, call me Dennis." 

Dennis can just barely see Pool Boy nod his head. 

***

"Thank you, Mr. Dennis.” He takes the bottle from him and drinks it down halfway, obviously a lot thirstier than he was willing to let on. 

Dennis wants to tell him that just Dennis is fine, but he doesn’t. It suddenly doesn’t seem worth it, not when Mr. Dennis makes his stomach do a flip like he’s a school girl.

Dennis doesn’t leave when he should, which happens to be right after he gives Pool Boy the water. No, he sticks around, and he makes it awkward, and then he makes it even more awkward when he clears his throat, utters a goodbye to Pool Boy, then turns on his heel and leaves.

***

He wasn’t awkward around Mandy. He wooed her like he wooed any other female, the only difference being that this time he was out of college and had the expectation of marriage and children placed on him, especially by his mother, who saw it as a fact of life that Dennis would grow up and give her grandchildren. Dennis knew she never actually cared much for grandchildren, she just cared about what grandchildren meant for her in society. That she’s not behind all her other rich friends, that she’s worthy of grandchildren, whatever.

She died before she could meet Brian. She never even saw Mandy get pregnant. Not that Dennis cared, really, but it did kind of ruin the whole experience of giving his mom grandchildren.

And it made him realize that he’s not sure if he ever actually loved Mandy in the first place. He loved the idea of having a wife, of having children, of giving his mom grandchildren, of having children before his sister, and he tricked himself into believing he loved Mandy, and he tricked himself into believing he was happy to marry her, and he tricked himself into believing he was happy when Brian was born, when Samantha was born. He tricked himself into loving Mandy, really, loving her until the well went dry and he couldn’t love her anymore, for one reason or another.

He thinks she loved him. He did woo her, after all. He got her to say yes. He got her to get pregnant twice. He knows she doesn’t love him anymore, though. It’s obvious with everything they do. He’s surprised she hasn’t moved to one of the vacant guest rooms in the house, or made him move.

He doesn’t know where their relationship is heading. A divorce, most likely, one as messy as his parent’s divorce, one that’s going to traumatize his children like his parent’s divorce traumatized him and his sister, but he can’t bring himself to care. The moment he cares, the moment it will seem real. The moment he cares, the moment he knows he fucked up his life by getting down one on knee and smiling when she said yes.

***

It’s really easy to watch Pool Boy, Dennis learns. Pool Boy is here every weekend and only the weekends because apparently he has some other job over the week, which Dennis is fine with, because he’s only home during the weekends anyway.

Pool Boy knows that Dennis is watching him because Dennis brings him a new bottle of water every time he finishes one. He doesn’t mention it, only thanks him, makes small talk, then goes back to his work and Dennis goes back to the deck. The pattern repeats until Pool Boy finishes for the day. It goes on for weeks.

To Dennis’s dismay, the pool is getting cleaner and cleaner with each passing weekend. Of course, the pool always needs new chemicals and always needs to be vacuumed, so Pool Boy’s job is never actually over, but, once the pool is clean, there’s no reason for him to spend the whole day at the house. He’ll only have to come over every Saturday, check the chemical levels, do what needs to be done, then leave.

So as the weekends dwindle, Dennis starts to slip Pool Boy tips along with the water bottles, which Pool Boy takes without a word. Dennis sees it as an incentive for Pool Boy not to forget about him, but Pool Boy does what Dennis doesn’t expect.

Pool Boy starts to tease him.

The teasing starts miniscule. The shirt he wears is tighter, subtly showing off his muscles, and he isn’t as adamant on pulling up his shorts when they ride down his hips, and he doesn’t care much about getting wet.

It’s killing Dennis. Pool Boy was attractive dressed decently, let alone this. He doesn’t know how much more he can take before he pounces.

***

Pool Boy takes off his shirt today, which is enough to send Dennis feral, but then he makes eye contact with him, and he fucking winks. No shame to it, just a clear as day wink.

Then he goes back to working as if he did nothing.

Dennis tries to make himself believe that he didn’t actually see the wink, but he can’t. He knows what he saw. He knows that he’s being flirted with like there’s no tomorrow, like he’s not married.

At the end of the day, when he goes to ask Pool Boy how much longer it’ll be before the pool is ready, he slips a hundred-dollar bill in his hand.

***

Mandy knows he spends the weekends outside. She can tell when the freckles on his shoulders come out, he can tell when his skin becomes three shades darker. She can tell when she doesn’t find him on a couch in a room hidden from the children, TV on, beer in his head, eyes glazed over.

When she finds where he’s been hanging out outside, just on the deck, no less, she knows what he’s doing. She finds the Pool Boy attractive herself.

She didn’t know her husband swung that way, though.

She’s hurt, of course, her husband is staring at a man behind her back, but what is she going to do about it? Throw a fit, get the children involved, go stay with her mother? She knows what she got into a year after marrying Dennis. She figured out quickly that she would never be treated right while she was with him. She did nothing about it then and she does nothing about it now.

She lets him have his weekends with the pool boy.

***

Pool Boy is fucking killing him.

He’s stayed faithful in his marriage, but he can’t anymore. Not with how Pool Boy looks at him when Dennis hands over the water, sultry eyes, sweat shining on his forehead, dry kissable lips. Not with how Pool Boy never wears a shirt anymore, not with how he seems to have forgotten his underwear, not with how he has a package that he doesn’t mind Dennis looking at.

Dennis can see it because he’s moved much closer to the pool than the deck. He’s still not at the pool, per se, but he’s only a few feet from it. He brought out a chair and set it up on the grass and he leaves it out, told the gardeners to not touch it, so it’s always there, ready for him.

The sun is hot today so Pool Boy is going through more water than he normally does, but that’s okay because Dennis has long since kept a cooler filled with beer and water by his feet.

The next time Dennis gives Pool Boy a bottle of water, his hand lingers. It’s hot against Dennis’s hand and the condensated bottle. Their eyes meet. The sexual tension builds up farther than it’s ever been so far, and Dennis panics. He clutches down on the bottle, feeling all the air push at the lid, threatening to make it pop off.

“Mr. Dennis,” Pool Boy mumbles.

“Yes?” Dennis responds. His grip on the bottle doesn’t loosen.

“Can you let go of the bottle?”

Dennis snaps out of it. His hand falls by his side and dangles uselessly and suddenly he’s more embarrassed than he should be. He can feel his cheeks start to warm up and he hopes that Pool Boy will just think that the heat is getting to him.

Pool Boy smiles, drinks some of the water, then places it on the ground by his feet. He turns around and gestures at the pool.

“It’s gotten pretty clean, huh, Mr. Dennis?”

“Yeah,” Dennis responds numbly, because he’s not looking at the pool. He’s looking at the way Pool Boy’s muscles twitch and move as he moves his arm and shoulder, how sweat makes the tan skin shine.

Dennis has always liked how smooth a woman’s back is, has never paid much attention to what the muscles look like when they’re defined, but as he looks at Pool Boy, he can’t even picture what a woman’s back looks like. Sure, he likes Mandy’s back, wouldn’t have married her if there was something he didn’t like about her body, but him liking Pool Boy’s back feels difference. It feels much more natural to like his back, like he isn’t trying to foce himself to like something he simply can’t. 

He shakes those thoughts away. Too heavy. 

“It should be done in another week or two." 

Dennis’s heart speeds up. "No!” he yells out before he can stop himself. Pool Boy turns and looks at him with wide eyes and Dennis has to restrain himself from fidgeting. “Sorry, I meant– it doesn’t look too clean does it?" 

Pool Boy gives it a once over, then looks at Dennis like he’s crazy. 

"I’ve scrubbed the whole thing, Mr. Dennis. It’s almost sparkling." 

Yeah, it is. Dennis clears his throat. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening. He’s always been smooth and relaxed around anyone he’s ever wanted to sleep with. He was even smooth and relaxed when he proposed to Mandy. How he’s acting now is unlike him and, frankly, upsetting. 

"I guess,” he hesitates. “I guess, just, go home early. Take the rest of the day off." 

Pool Boy has concern written over his face. His cheeks are pink and it must be because of the heat, not because Dennis is doing a good job flirting. 

"Really, Mr. Dennis?" 

"Really." 

Pool Boy has good teeth, Dennis notices.

***

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. After sending Pool Boy home, he took a hot shower and he changed into clean clothes and he most certaintly avoided thinking about shirtless Pool Boy.

Now he sits on his couch and he waits for whoever-the-fuck cooks dinner for him and his fanily to come tell him that there’s food, only for him to respond that he doesn’t want to eat, partly because he doesn’t like eating and partly because he doesn’t want to see his family. 

If he could, he’d walk out of this life right now and carve a new one with Pool Boy. 

But he can’t.

He shouldn’t be so nervous around him. He shouldn’t shake and hesitate and stutter. Really, he’s Pool Boy’s superior. So what if he’s attractive? So what if he allows Dennis to escape this life he hates? So what if Dennis wants to wrap his arms around his waist and feel his floppy brown hair at his neck as his lips travel down? So what about any of it? 

It all feels different. Less out of Dennis’s control than ever. 

***

Mac knows that what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be flirting with a married man. But he also knows he can’t stop. 

It’s easy. Mr. Dennis eats it up and purposely eggs him on, whether he knows he does it or not. Although, he definitely knew what he was doing when he started slipping Mac money. 

Mac felt dirty once that started. He told himself he’d stop his flirting. That went to shit the moment he saw Mr. Dennis the next day. Mr. Dennis wasn’t wearing one of his long-sleeved button ups and jeans, no, he was wearing a loose fitting T-shirt and basketball shorts. It made sense considering it had gone up fifteen degrees over night, but still unexpected. Even more unexpected was Dennis’s unstyled curls. Up until that point he had slicked back his hair, but along with his more relaxed outfit, his hair was also relaxed. He looked even more gorgeous like that. 

So without much thought, Mac started to tease him. And he had fun doing it. He liked seeing how Mr. Dennis had to tear his eyes away everytime Mac looked at him. He liked the lingering hand touches and the subconscious lick lipping. 

It made him feel good, no matter how bad he’d feel the moment his eye caught the sun’s reflection off Mr. Dennis’s wedding ring. No matter how many times he got home and went through the week and told himself like a mantra that he wouldn’t flirt anymore, he still did it. 

And it became worse. His ability to not flirt, that is. 

The first time he took off his shirt, he cursed himself for it. 

And then he winked at Mr. Dennis and somehow it was worse and better all at once. He felt justified for taking off his shirt when he saw the blush spread across Mr. Dennis’s cheeks, when he averted his eyes. He probably doesn’t think Mac saw it, but he saw Mr. Dennis adjust his pants. 

At the end of the day, Mr. Dennis gives him a hundred dollars. He keeps it because it helps him pay the bills, but he doesn’t feel good about it. 

Most of the time, he confesses his sins. He goes to the church and he kneels in the pews until his knees hurt and he keeps his hands clasped together until they’re sore and he repeats his sins until they don’t feel real. 

But the cycle repeats. 

***

He doesn’t let go of the water bottle. He can’t. At this point, it’d seem like a crime to do so. Pool Boy looks at him with wide, blown eyes. Their fingers are touching and while Dennis’s are soft, Pool Boy’s are rough and calloused. 

"I…” Dennis starts, then stops. He licks his lips and Pool Boy watches him as he does it. 

“Yeah,” Pool Boy says. 

Dennis hates that he’s hard. He has no reason to be hard. He’s been touching Pool Boy’s hand for weeks now, so what’s so different about this moment? 

Everything is different about this moment. 

Dennis leans in. Pool Boy lets him. Their eyes meet, then their lips. It’s sudden, but not surprising. He knew it was coming when he first looked at Pool Boy. He knew their relationship would build until it couldn’t anymore and then it’d snap and they’d be doing things that they shouldn’t be doing.

Dennis lets the water bottle fall to the ground and he wraps his arms around Pool Boy’s waist and pulls him closer. Pool Boy lets out a moan of surprise, but he falls into the gesture easily. Dennis knows he can feel his hard on through his shorts, but he doesn’t care. Let Pool Boy know how he feels. Besides, Pool Boy doesn’t pull back. In fact, he deepens the kiss, apparentally just as excited as Dennis is to do… whatever it is their doing. 

They’re gonna have sex, Dennis decides. 

He breaks the kiss and tugs on Pool Boy’s wrist. “Follow me,” he says, and Pool Boy does. 

They end up in one of the rooms in the guest house. Dennis is pretty sure he’s never even been to this part of the house, but Mandy had made sure all the bedrooms had beds when they bought the house. He thinks she hired some furnishing company, but he doesn’t remember. 

Once they enter the room, Pool Boy hestitates in the door. He looks nervous, he twiddles his thumbs and bites his lip. 

Honestly, he looks adorable.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Dennis? You’re married.” His eyes flick to Dennis’s wedding band, and suddenly the ring is burning his skin. He twists the ring off and throws it across the room to who-knows-where.

“Yes. I want to do this.” His lips meet Pool Boy’s again, slow and soft and chaste. Pool Boy returns the kiss. He lets go and rests his forehead on Pool Boy’s. “I haven’t loved Man–”

“I don’t want to know her name,” Pool Boy interrupts. 

“Okay. I haven’t loved her in years. I’m making this decision, not you. Don’t worry,” Dennis says, softly. Pool Boy relaxes and initiates the next kiss. All doubts seem to leave his mind after Dennis’s words and he pushes Dennis towards the bed, taking small steps until the back of Dennis’s knees hit the edge of the bed. He folds down on the bed and Mac climbs on top of him, kissing all the while. 

Dennis breaks apart to take off his shirt and scoot to the head board. He beckons Pool Boy back over to him with a hand gesture and Pool Boy happily scrambles back to lavish his body. Dennis thinks he’s going to come back to his lips, but, no, he goes to his neck and starts kissing and sucking on it, sending shivers down Dennis’s body. He can’t remember the last time he had sex, and he’s not sure it’s ever felt this electrifying before. 

He lets Pool Boy stay at his neck for a few seconds, but he doesn’t want any marks, so he gently pushes his head away and he captures his lips once Pool Boy looks at him to see what’s wrong. 

“No marks,” he whispers against Pool Boy’s lips. 

“Okay,” he responds. 

Dennis delicately kisses the side of Pool Boy’s mouth and absolutely melts when he feels Pool Boy let out a small puff of air, a quiet whine buried underneath. 

“How do you want to do this, baby boy?" 

"Maybe I could suck you off?" 

Dennis smiles, puts his hands on Pool Boy’s back, lets him feel the smooth skin. "Of course,” he says. 

He lets his hand float above his back as Pool Boy lowers himself down to Dennis’s crotch, taking breaks as he goes down to pay attention to Dennis’s bare chest. He’s careful to leave no marks, but the butterfly kisses are still enough to send Dennis’s stomach flipping. 

Pool Boy mouths over his hard cock, still in the basketball shorts. The only saving grace is he’s not wearing any underwear, but, still, he’s desperate to get the show on the road. His hips buck up a few inches and it makes Pool Boy dig his fingers into the curve of Dennis’s hips to help keep him still.

“C'mon, Mac,” Dennis whines. The name slips out. He doesn’t know where it comes from, or if it’s right, but, at the name, Pool Boy pulls down Dennis’s basketball shorts until they’re resting just under his cock, letting it spring out. 

Dennis decides Mac is the right name. He must have read it on some name tag or something. 

He ignores the fact that he knows Mac never wore a name tag. 

Mac takes Dennis’s cock in his hand and he keeps it in his fist as he takes his balls in his mouth. His other hand is back on Dennis’s hip and his fingertips are digging into the thin flesh there, and it starts to hurt, but Dennis doesn’t care. He had forgotten how good it feels to have a mouth on him, hot and wet and enthusiastic. 

It takes everything in him to not choke Mac with his cock. Absolutely everything. 

Soon enough, Mac takes his hand away from his shaft and begins to dig into his other hip just as hard, but Dennis still doesn’t care because now Mac’s mouth is on the tip of his cock. He kisses down it, starting on the head and going down until he reaches the base. Slowly, way too slowly, he starts to put the entire thing in his mouth. 

When he gets halfway down, Dennis groans out his name and he wraps his hands in Mac’s greasy hair and he tugs. He’s hestitant at first, but Mac doesn’t pull off and tell him to stop, so he takes it as a good sign. He helps ease Mac the rest of the way down until he’s deepthroating him and Mac must have had practice before because he’s doing it so smoothly. 

A flair of jealousy shoots through him as he thinks about all the other men Mac’s been with. He pushes Mac down farther until he’s almost choking, until Dennis can feel the back of his throat flexing against him, and he’s not sure he’s ever felt anything more satisfying. He holds him there for a moment, but then Mac’s grip on his hips tightens and he lets him go. Mac pulls off and starts to cough while taking deep breaths. There are tears in his eyes. 

Dennis expects to be yelled at, but it doesn’t come. Mac calms down and is right back on him and Dennis absolutely groans. 

Mac’s tongue can work wonders, Dennis learns. He doesn’t need to be deepthroated to feel this good. All he needs is Mac’s tongue. 

It isn’t long before his hips are twitching and his stomach is burning and he’s uttering a warning to Mac before Mac pulls off and lets Dennis cum over his face. Even as Dennis is finishing, Mac is licking his cock through the twitches, not caring where the cum is landing. 

When Dennis is coherent enough after his orgasm, he is pulling Mac’s face to his own and he’s kissing him as hard as he possibly can, teeth clacking together and his own cum spreading from Mac’s face to his as well. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is Mac tastes like him and he tastes amazing, especially off of Mac’s lips. 

“How do you want to finish, baby boy?” he whispers against Mac’s cheek, then licks a bit of the cum off there. He feels Mac shiver. 

“Just touch me, Mr. Dennis." 

Mac calling him Mr. Dennis while still covered in his release sends his stomach rolling. 

Mac has been rolling his hips across Dennis’s thigh this whole time, desperately searching for friction, but Dennis calmly tells him to stop and rubs his back in comfort. Mac whimpers, but does as he’s told. 

"So good for me,” Dennis mumbles. 

“Good for you,” Mac repeats. 

Dennis grips Mac’s ass cheeks through his pants, then he brings his hands back up and gently pulls his pants down past his ass. He doesn’t care to take them fully off in the same way Mac didn’t care to get his off. 

Besides, he was right about Mac not wearing underwear. It makes it all easier. 

He’s quick to get Mac’s cock in his hand, doesn’t daddle before he’s rubbing his hot palm in circles over the head. Mac is much noisier than he was and much more desperate, apparentally getting off just by pleasuring Dennis. 

That’s hot. 

It doesn’t take much finesse to get Mac to finish all over Dennis’s stomach. His body jerks and he moans and he holds himself up with shaky muscles. 

When he’s done, he collapses, his head on Dennis’s chest. He’s breathing heavily, but so is Dennis. The air is hot and reeks of sex. They’re both covered in sweat. 

Dennis cards his hands back into Mac’s hair and he starts to play with it. Mac relaxes into the touch, letting a sigh come out. 

They’re quiet for a long time and Mac is almost asleep when Dennis speaks up. 

“There’s a bathroom down the hall. There’s no toiletries, but we can at least wash off." 

"Mhm,” Mac responds against his chest. 

***

Mac leaves and confesses his sins right after.

Mandy sees the bruises on Dennis’s hips but says nothing about it.

Dennis waits for the next time Pool Boy comes over.