#I'm the kind of person that will go through your entire history if i liked a fic of yours...and then I'll move on to the bookmarks

[lightasthesun]

i heard there was a HUGE outcry for more codywan fic recs...(@tapemonkey21 & @dontbelasagnax lol) so here I am posting another one

As always please mind the tags before diving headfirst into any fic you read and consider sharing your unbridled joy and unhinged thoughts with the writer in the comment section 😉

Desert Box by br1ghtmouth | 7k words

With a chip in his head that has already caused the ruin for which he was made, Cody finds his way to Tatooine in the hopes of tending to the painful layers of memories left behind in his own silt.

Facile Felicity by br1ghtmouth | 14k words

Primary functions are supposed to be useful: survive against all odds; shield one’s battalion; fight until the very last breath. Cody would prefer anything besides the bleeding heart he’s been dealt.

Or: the General makes plans. Cody follows.

Good man of war by scrapathon 🔒| 16k words

During a medic’s first mission with the 212th, everything goes wrong. In the midst of it all, Cody deals with his growing feelings towards General Kenobi.

Across the path by Threebea O(ThreeBea)| 1k words

Cody is inspecting a cave system. He meets his General.

No. Not his General.

“The pathway,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I understand now. C-Commander, I owe you an apology. I am not your General.”

But Obi-Wan isn't the only one that has crossed over into his universe.

Safe in hand by Threebea O(ThreeBea) | 11k words

Cody ends up where all griefstricken people on the run end up in the galaxy far, far away. He makes a life for himself looking for scrap in the deserts of Tatooine.

He always did have a knack for finding Kenobi's lightsaber.

in the middle before I knew that I had begun by tenderjock🔒| 2k words

Obi-Wan beams at him, feeling unbearably fond. His Cody. His darling. Always looking after him.

Cody’s face is very still, just a few inches above his. Obi-Wan reaches out, touches his scar.

“What are you thinking?” he wonders.

OR: as the war stumbles to its end, Obi-Wan is forced to reassess his relationship with his commander.

Floating on a Starless Sea by shadowmaat🔒| 2k words

A cave-in leaves Cody trapped and badly injured. With another contingent of droids on the way there isn't time to try and dig him out. Obi-Wan is forced to make a difficult choice.

when the jebwa flower blooms by mxartbotboy🔒| 10k words

One year since the end of the war, and Cody still hasn’t figured out what to do about Obi-Wan. With Coruscant struggling to make the transition with the New Republic, Cody already has enough on his plate without trying to untangle the knot that is his feelings for the ex-Jedi. Will the tightly twisted flower bud finally bloom?

love without compromise by mxartbotboy🔒(ch.1) |

Cody has a panicked moment with his General and reveals more than he means to.

grip my hand through the pain by The_Last_Kenobi🔒| 2k words

It's all just happened, and yet Cody cannot stop playing it over and over in his head.

The trek into the hills, the deserted path.

His General standing like a human shield between his battalion and a wall of fire.

Panacea by MissyPup | 4k words

Cody has been falling for his General for two years. Two long, war filled years. But he's been able to stay in control of his feelings by just not acknowledging them.

But having to share a bed with the man he's been daydreaming about for two years makes Cody so tense Obi-Wan decides to give him a massage to help out.

Obi-Wan would certainly be the death of him.

Facula by MissyPup | 5k words

Obi-Wan would only be gone for a few days, Cody could handle that alone. Until his thoughts catch up to him thanks to Beru.

Or: How the Kenobi series should have gone because Cody deserves to be there.

Interrobang by MissyPup | 10k words

“I love you.” Cody blurted out so fast that even he was surprised by it.

Obi-Wan leaned back a bit, enough to touch Cody’s cheek and grin, “I love you too, Cody.”

“Keeping this a secret is hard.” Cody admitted, reaching up to grip Obi-Wan’s robes again. “But I know what would happen if anyone found out… Kriff, Rex found out on his own and I thought I was going to-”

coming full circle by catboydogma 🔒| 5k words

Or: five times Obi-Wan has handed Cody his lightsaber and one time Cody handed Obi-Wan his lightsaber

A Hush Sublime by catboydogma | 10k words

When Master Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan had known him for half his life. He thought—sometimes, distantly, like the artificial Coruscanti sunlight—that he should have told Qui-Gon more often. They hadn’t needed words in living: Qui-Gon was a man of action more than anything else, and they both had difficulties in unspooling the thick vines of feeling inside their chests enough to speak of them. Obi-Wan had loved Qui-Gon. He’d thought, more than once, that that adoring love, of the Initiate that Obi-Wan still was at heart, had been a sign of a terrible and thorny attachment.

that is that + this is this by catboydogma🔒| 8k words

“Here. Drink, Cody. Come on. Don’t die on me now, not when you went to all the trouble to get out here.”

“Didn’t know,” Cody rasped.

“So I shouldn’t be expecting a cavalcade of Imperial stormtroopers to show up here, then?” The man asked, bland as anything.

The Commander gave this the consideration it was due. “No.” “Forgive me if I don’t immediately believe you.” The man’s voice sharpened, but his grip on the Commander stayed gentle, supporting his head even when it lolled back against his will. “When have I ever let you down?” Cody asked.

The man’s breathing hitched. He set Cody back down against the blankets and retreated to his spot several feet away, blaster and charge pack between the two of them like some strange barrier. “When you killed me,” the man said.

repeat, replay, return by Serie11🔒| 3k words

The last time he saw his General, Cody was ordering him shot off a cliff.

Ten years later, and Obi-Wan is in a bacta tank again. Some things, it seems, don’t change; Cody’s feelings among them.

all the world in my arms by biscuityskies | 5k words

A brief wry smirk flashes across his face, and as Cody meets his own eyes in the reflection of his drink, it softens. If he had to rationalise it, this anxiety most likely stems from the recent developments with the general.

Something's been off about him ever since he came back from the mission to Kadavo.

Compartment Syndrome by elwenyere | 3k words

Cody was lucky, really, that Obi-Wan had lost consciousness during the crash, because otherwise he would never have gotten away with the tender pressure building in his wrist - much less the lance of pain that sliced across his arm every time he adjusted his General’s weight over his shoulder.

I Promise by dontbelasagnax🔒| 6k words

Mace raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. He looks over Cody for a solid thirty grueling seconds, evaluating. "Hypothetically," he says in that dry way of his that is nearly impossible to tell whether he's making fun of Cody or teaching him a lesson, "if someone wanted to propose to their partner, they'd bring it up with said partner."

[ OR: Cody has plans. He's going to make a certain Jedi a very happy man. ]

The Lessons Not Yet Learned by meadmeinthemiddle | 23k words

The Force works in mysterious ways. Cody knows this, theoretically, but it all seems so far beyond him that he tends to not pay it any mind.

Little does Cody know, the Force has its claws buried deeper into him than he can possibly imagine - he just hasn't realized it yet.

: (Is to) :: (As) by TamerLorika | 12k words

Cody notices that Kenobi's regard for himself is always clinical and utilitarian. As he ponders a way to break the stalemate, he begins to learn more about the lightsaber that is so often in his hands, and how it relates to the subject of Kenobi's own soul.

for you, only you by dontbelasagnax | 11k words

“What's next for you, my dear, now that you’re a citizen of the Republic?” Obi-Wan tilts his head, expression alight and imploring. “You could get a job and find a place of your own amongst the many levels of Coruscant- or the stars.”

Light Will Prevail by kotekenobii | 3k words

In the aftermath of battle, an exhausted Obi-Wan slips away to watch the sunrise. Worried, Cody seeks him out.

Based on the end of Obi-Wan Kenobi #3.

You're the Only Stim I Need by Captora | 7k words

The five times Marshal Commander Cody brought General Kenobi bad GAR caf and the one time Obi-Wan showed Cody what caf was supposed to taste like.

[klug]

the meme in your pinned is 10x funnier now that i actually know who that is FLSDHKGHLK

I'M REALLY GLAD because i made it my personality for like the first 4 months that I was getting into enst.

[munsonsreputation]

i can't talk to you when i'm like this

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)

summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.

You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.

Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.

He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.

“Why are you making it such a big deal?”

His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.

Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”

Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.

This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.

He knows he messed up.

It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.

It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.

You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.

Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.

“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.

The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”

The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’

All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.

He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.

Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.

“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.

There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.

No one gets it… but Steve does.

“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.

The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.

“I’m fine, Steve!”

Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.

He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.

“Baby,”

Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”

He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.

Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.

It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.

You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.

One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.

“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.

Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.

He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.

Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.

You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.

“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.

He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.

Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.

“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,

Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.

But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.

“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.

But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”

You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.

You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.

“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.

“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”

You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”

Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.

Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.

“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.

It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.

“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.

“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.

When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.

“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”

“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“

He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”

Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.

Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.

“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.

His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.

“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.

Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”

“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.

He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.

His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.

“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.

His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.

“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”

He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”

Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.

The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.

It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.

But Steve gives you everything and so much more.

A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.

When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.

He’s everything you could have asked for and more.

You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.

“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.

He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.

That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.

His love.

“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.

You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”

“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.

You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.

“I know, I love you too.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[wholoveseggs]

hey girl! i was wondering if you could write some angst - maybe like an unrequited love? like the reader is in love with Elijah but is too shy to tell him, and he doesn’t know about her feelings towards him because he’s too focused on Hayley? pretty please 🫶🏻

Crush

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag, I may have gone a little off topic with this one ♡♡

6.7k words - Warnings: angst, masturbation, smut, corsets, Elijah being a history nerd and using it to flirt, Rebekah being the best (as always)

{Moodboard->}

You were excited to meet Rebekah’s infamous family. You thought Klaus, as notorious as he was, would intrigue you the most. However, the moment you laid eyes on him you knew you were doomed. Elijah. His charming smile, his piercing dark eyes and his strong hands. It took all your self-control not to blush and look away like some schoolgirl.

He was the first person who greeted you, his hand lingered in yours a moment longer than what could be considered polite and it sent butterflies straight into your stomach.

You were so gone, it was almost embarrassing. You couldn't help it, you were sure that anyone else would fall head over heels for him too.

But there was only one small problem: Elijah had eyes for another, Hayley Marshall. You tried not to be bitter, after all, they were just friends. However, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, or the way she leaned into his touch. They way they would sometimes have entire conversations with their eyes. You couldn't stand it.

You had been so sure you had a chance. He had been flirting with you, right? But then you noticed that he was that way will everyone. He would flirt and smile, then gaze at you in a way that just oozed sex appeal.

You were staying in the compound with Rebekah and going to school full time. You enjoyed spending your free time reading, the Mikaelsons had an incredible collection of books and you had read a lot of them.

You were sitting at the table, a large book on medieval history in front of you. You were working on a research paper on romanticism in the middle ages. It was difficult, especially because there wasn't much written about that subject from this time period.

You considered asking Rebekah about it, but you knew it was a sore subject for her, so you decided against it.

You were getting ready to give up and start a new project when Elijah entered the room. You blushed at the sight of him, he was wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans. Looking the most casual you had ever seen him.

He gave you a friendly nod and headed to the bookshelf. He looked through the books for a moment, before taking one from the shelf. He placed it on the table before sitting across from you and beginning to read.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, both of you reading and not making a sound. You were surprised that you weren't more uncomfortable. The only sounds were the occasional page turn and the occasional noise from the city outside.

You got lost in your work again and came across an interesting paragraph about how poetry was used often to court potential partners. You wondered if Elijah had done that back then. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have.

The thought of Elijah reading you poetry made your heart skip a beat. You imagined him leaning in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered words of affection and lust.

Your eyes glanced up, and your breath hitched when you realized he was staring at you. You flushed, quickly looking back at your work.

He chuckled softly and reached out, tapping the top of your textbook.

"Interesting choice of reading material." He said.

You gave him a small smile, "I'm trying to write a research paper on the Middle Ages." You replied. "About romance and poetry."

"Ah, yes." He said with a smirk, "I remember that time period fondly."

You giggled, "Of course you do. You were probably the biggest player around."

He gave you an odd look, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. His eyes looked you up and down, and you could see a flash of something indecipherable cross them. You were surprised by how intense his gaze was, and felt your cheeks growing hot, regretting opening your mouth.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"I... uh..." You stammered, not sure how to respond. "You just seem like the type who'd have his pick of women."

Elijah smirked, his dark eyes meeting yours. "And why would you think that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallowed nervously, and his eyes narrowed slightly. You realized he was toying with you, and that he could hear your heartbeat quickening. You weren't going to let him win.

"I think you know why." You said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Elijah chuckled, his eyes roaming over your body once again. He put his hand on this chin and looked at you thoughtfully. "In the middle ages I was actually quite solitary." He said, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"What was it like back then?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your previous comment.

Elijah's expression softened slightly, and his gaze seemed far away. "It was a different time." He said wistfully.

You couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were filled with such pain and sadness. You knew he'd experienced terrible things, and that it must've been difficult for him. But somehow he'd managed to survive and maintain his humanity, something that very few vampires could say.

"What was it like to date -sorry- court someone back then? You asked, hoping to get a better understanding of him.

"Women were often married off when they were very young." Elijah said, a grim expression on his face. "They had no say in the matter. But there were ways around it."

He paused, his eyes meeting yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "It wasn't easy to be alone with a woman, not even for a moment. If you wanted to seduce her, you had to be creative."

Your face turned a deep shade of crimson, and you were suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, and he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort.

"What we are doing right now, alone in this room," he said, his voice low and seductive, "it wouldn't be allowed. Not without a chaperone. And if we were discovered, the consequences would be severe."

His eyes flashed with desire, and you found yourself unable to look away.

"What would they do?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Well," he said, his tone mischievous, "you'd have to marry me, of course."

Your eyes widened in shock, and he laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction he'd gotten from you.

You felt flustered and embarrassed, but also oddly flattered. You couldn't believe he'd actually suggested that, and the thought of it made your heart race.

You wondered if he was joking, but you didn't dare ask. You weren't sure you could handle the answer.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before Hayley walked in holding Hope. She gave Elijah a questioning look and he stood, walking over to her. You watched as he placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead.

"Can you watch her for a few hours? They need me in the bayou," she asked him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course." He replied, giving her a small smile.

She smiled gratefully, placing a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and affectionate.

Elijah took Hope from Hayley's arms and cradled her gently. Giving her a wide smile and making funny faces, causing her to giggle. You couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet with her.

Hayley looked from you to Elijah, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." She said, before walking away.

Elijah nodded, his gaze lingering on her a moment before turning back to you. You looked down at your textbook, feeling guilty and jealous all at once.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, Hope still in his arms. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them. Elijah held his niece with such tenderness, and Hope seemed completely content in his arms. He was rocking her back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.

You'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Hope's eyes slowly started to droop, and Elijah smiled down at her. He continued to hum and rock her until her eyes finally closed, and she was asleep.

"You are so good with her." You said, unable to hold back the compliment.

He smiled, and his eyes met yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed.

You were sure he could hear it.

"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off Hope.

You tried to focus on your work, but it was difficult. Your mind kept wandering, and you found yourself glancing over at him more and more.

"I better go put her down, have a nice night." He said, standing up with Hope in his arms and heading towards the nursery.

"You too," you replied, smiling up at him.

Once he was gone, you let out a sigh and sank back into the couch. Your heart was still racing, and you were sure your face was still bright red.

It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. The first time you'd gotten a glimpse of his softer side.

And it made you want him even more.

Over the next few weeks you kept finding yourself alone with him. In the kitchen, in the library, on the balcony. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep it up.

He would ask you questions about your paper, and the two of you would talk for hours. He would listen to your ideas and tell you of his own experiences in the Middle Ages.

You loved how passionate he was about everything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he enjoyed.

You wondered if he could see how you were falling for him, if he noticed how you blushed whenever he touched you. You were sure he did.

You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were around him, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be with him.

But he didn't seem interested, he didn't look at you the way he looked at Hayley.

One night, the two of you were sitting on the balcony, watching the stars. He was telling you a story of how he courted a woman who was to be wed to another, he would compel her betrothed to forget that he was around her.

"I don't miss much about those times, everything smelled terrible and fanaticism ran rampant, but there was something about the secrecy and the scandal that made it all..." He paused, looking for the right word, "exciting."

You chuckled, "I'm sure. But the fact that a lady could be forced to marry a man she didn't want... that sounds horrible."

"It was," Elijah agreed, "but not everyone was unhappy. Some women preferred it."

"Why?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Some liked the idea of being taken care of, of not having to make decisions or choices." He shrugged. "Others simply liked the security."

"What do you think?" You asked.

He turned to look at you, his eyes studying your face intently. "I think it was wrong. No woman should be forced into a marriage she doesn't want. No one should have that much power over another person."

You smiled, glad that he held similar opinions to your own. 

"But I do miss the corsets, the anticipation when taking one off, pulling the ribbons and slowly revealing the soft, delicate skin underneath," his eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "It was like unwrapping a gift, a treasure."

You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, his words making your heart race.

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you have enough information for your paper now?" He asked.

You smiled and nodded, "yes, but I don't know how to credit my sources," you chuckled. "I can't tell my professor that I'm writing a paper on the middle ages based on the first hand account of a vampire I know," you grinned.

"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that would be difficult." He said, his tone teasing. "How about you quote a 'unique source' that has a vast knowledge of the subject and a passion for it?"

You laughed, "That might work."

"Good," he said, offering you his hand. "Shall we?"

You looked at him quizzically, "where are we going?"

He smirked, "to the 14th century, of course."

"What?" You said, staring at him in disbelief.

"First hand experience is far more educational than anything written down," he said, taking your hand in his.

"You ready?" He asked, his expression serious.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what was about to happen, but you trusted him.

"Ready."

You were immediately plunged into his memories. He was standing in a large stone hall, surrounded by people in period clothing. There was laughter and music, and the scent of roasted meat and wine filled the air.

You watched as Elijah walked through the crowd, smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, and his hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It was an amusing haircut for him, but it was the fashion back then.

You followed him as he made his way towards a woman standing in a corner. She was beautiful, her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and she was wearing a yellow gown with red embroidery.

Elijah stood next to her, his hand resting on her arm. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with longing. A feeling you knew well.

"My Lady," he said, bowing his head.

"Sir," she said, her voice soft and sensual.

"Would you care to dance?" He asked, offering her his hand.

She hesitated, her gaze shifting towards a man who was watching them intently.

"I don't think my husband would approve."

"You worry too much," Elijah said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

They began to move together, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the two of them. They moved with such grace and elegance, it was like watching a dance meant only for the two of them.

A sudden movement caught your eye, and you saw the woman's husband storming towards the couple. His eyes were filled with rage, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Elijah," you said, hoping he could hear you.

But he didn't respond, instead he continued to dance with the woman, ignoring her husband's fury. When the husband reached them, Elijah simply grabbed the man and compelled him.

"I'm going to take a walk with your wife, she will be back before the sun comes up."

He let go of the man, who immediately walked away, not saying a word. Elijah offered his hand to the woman, and she took it, a small smile playing on her lips.

They walked out of the castle together, and you found yourself following behind. You watched as they strolled through the gardens, their hands entwined. They stopped under a large oak tree, and Elijah pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

You were mesmerized by the scene, your heart aching for the man you had grown to love. You wished it was you in her place. You wished he would kiss you like that.

You heard Elijah's voice, but it wasn't coming from the version in front of you. "I courted her for months, sneaking into her chambers, bringing her flowers and trinkets," he chuckled. "It was rather clandestine and exciting."

"What happened?" You asked, wanting to know the ending.

"She became pregnant with her husband's child." He said, his voice low and full of regret.

Your heart ached for him, and for the woman who had been forced to marry another man. The memory faded and you returned to the present, still holding Elijah's hand.

"I'm sorry," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled, "It's alright, it was a long time ago."

"It's lonely isn't it? Being a vampire?" You asked.

He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "Yes. I think it's why I value my family so much," his gaze shifted to yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And why I treasure our friendship."

"Me too," you said softly, smiling up at him.

You both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and enjoying each other's company. After a while, Elijah stood, fixing his suit jacket and giving you a smile. "I hope you get an A on your paper."

You grinned, "Thanks for the help, Elijah. Goodnight."

You went to your room, lying awake in the dark. Your thoughts consumed with him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. The memory he had shared with you, it was so personal, and yet he didn't mind that you were there.

Your mind wandered to the way he was kissing that woman in the garden. His lips pressing against hers, his hands gripping her waist, his body flush against hers. You could see the way her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. You could feel the heat between them.

Your skin began to flush, and you felt a warmth between your legs. You had never felt such an intense desire for someone before, but there was no denying it.

You wanted him, you wanted to experience that kind of passion, that kind of intimacy.

Your hand trailed down your body, slowly slipping under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, biting your lip as you started to circle your finger slowly.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you pictured him above you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Your hand moving faster as you imagined what his mouth would feel like on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against yours.

You gasped, arching your back as you felt yourself coming undone, his name on your lips as you imagined him touching you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. It was a satisfying release, but it left you wanting more.

You were determined to have him, to taste him, to feel him inside of you. You were going to make him yours.

You practically skipped into the compound, giddy and excited to share your A+ grade on your paper. Elijah had been so helpful, and you couldn't wait to show him.

You heard voices coming from the courtyard, and you hurried past the gate, hoping to find him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him, his arms wrapped around Hayley.

Her hand was tangled in his hair, and her body was pressed against his. Their eyes were closed, and their lips were locked in a passionate kiss.

You couldn't move. Your heart was shattered. You'd been foolish, thinking you had a chance with him. He was just being nice in his typical flirty way, and you were dumb enough to think it meant more. You'd just been reading into things.

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you quickly walked past them and up to your room. You collapsed onto the bed, your heart broken.

You cried, unable to hold back the pain.

You felt so stupid.

He didn't like you, he was just being friendly. And you'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. How could you possibly believe someone like him could ever like someone like you?

You heard a quiet knock at your door and Rebekah walked in, she had heard you crying and came to check on you.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"I'm fine." You said, your voice hoarse.

"Just crying for fun then?" She said, giving you a knowing look.

You sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from your face. "I'm just being silly," you said, shaking your head.

She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, which caused you to cry even more. She rubbed your back, trying to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No, I just need to get over it." You said, your voice breaking.

"Get over what darling?" Rebekah asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"Elijah." You said, wiping away your tears.

She looked at you, confusion written all over her face.

"I may have a bit of a crush on your brother." You confessed.

She laughed, "Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say something terrible."

"What? You aren't surprised?" You asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're not exactly subtle, darling." She chuckled. "Your heart beats faster, making your cheeks flush, whenever he's near. And your eyes light up like Christmas morning whenever he talks to you. It's rather obvious."

You couldn't believe she had noticed all that. Damn vampires and their heightened senses, you were mortified. If Rebekah noticed then Elijah definitely did as well.

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"So why the tears?" Rebekah asked, patting you on the shoulder.

"Because I just saw him kissing Hayley."

Rebekah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. She put her arm around your shoulders.

"That might not mean anything, they're just friends. They have a complicated history," she explained.

You shook your head, "No, I saw the way he looked at her, the way she kissed him. There's definitely something between them, and it's more than just friendship."

Rebekah sighed and hugged you again."He's an idiot, always been that way around women. Sometimes I think it's more of a blind spot for him than Klaus," she said, her voice soothing.

You chuckled and wiped away your tears.

"He'll come around eventually," she said, smiling softly. "He just needs time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" You asked, sniffling.

"That you're the perfect girl for him," she said, giving you an affectionate smile.

You smiled back and hugged her, thankful for her support. You felt a little better, and you were glad that she didn't judge you.

"I have an idea, a way for you to make him see what a catch you are," Rebekah said, her eyes glinting.

"Really?" You asked, excited at the prospect.

"Yes and it will be a chance for you to get him alone, away from Hayley," she smirked.

"I don't want to be that girl..," you started, not sure if you should meddle.

"I am," she grinned.

You chuckled, and Rebekah began telling you the plan. You listened intently, feeling better already. You were excited, and nervous.

But mostly excited.

Rebekah's idea was to have a costume party, she loved any excuse to throw one. It also gave you a reason to dress up, to catch Elijah's eye.

You went shopping with Rebekah, she wanted to make sure you got something that would suit your figure. She asked you what sort of theme it should be and you couldn't resist choosing one that you knew well: a medieval theme.

You found a beautiful, off the shoulder, forest green dress, with a tight laced corset that had gold threading, and long, flowing, bell sleeves. It was the perfect combination of modern and historical and it made your tits look fantastic.

Rebekah had gone with a blue version of the same dress, and the two of you were having a blast getting ready. She helped you style your hair for the night and even did your makeup, making sure that your look would draw Elijah's eye.

"Ready?" She asked, as the two of you looked at yourselves in the mirror.

"Yes," you said, trying to mask your nerves.

The two of you made your way down to the courtyard, where the party was in full swing.

Everyone was dressed in costumes from various time periods, and the atmosphere was electric. The music was loud, and people were dancing, laughing, and having a good time.

You saw Hayley and Klaus talking to some guests, and your eyes wandered around the room, looking for Elijah.

He was standing by the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked incredible, his dark hair perfectly styled, wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a high collar, a blue cravat and a white dress shirt.

Hayley walked up to you and Rebekah, and complimented the both of you on your dresses. She was dressed in a Victorian era gown, complete with a corset and a large bustle.

"So, where's Elijah tonight?" Rebekah asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Hayley said bitterly, glancing around the room.

You felt a twinge of excitement. She sounded irritated by him. Maybe she wasn't happy in their relationship.

"What's wrong ?" Rebekah asked her, squeezing your hand subtly. You loved how sneaky she could be sometimes.

"It's just," Hayley paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought about her answer. "I don't think he's very interested in a relationship with me, he's been avoiding me all night."

Rebekah and you shared a look, a smirk playing on your lips.

"He's a hard one to read, that's for sure," you said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, but perhaps its for the best," Rebekah added.

"Maybe, I just thought we were on the same page, I thought we had something," Hayley said, a pout forming on her lips.

You could see the pain in her eyes, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. You knew exactly how she felt.

"You're a gorgeous woman, and any man would be lucky to have you," Rebekah said, her voice genuine.

"Thanks," Hayley said, a sad smile on her face. "There is this guy here, his name is Jack, we've been flirting all night and he wants to dance with me," she said, looking over at a tall, handsome man in a knight costume.

"Then go," Rebekah said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, you deserve some fun," you said, trying not to sound too happy that Elijah might be single.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She walked off, and Rebekah turned to you, her face breaking into a wide grin.

"How unfortunate for Hayley, how fortunate for you," she smirked.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Go, now's your chance, he's all alone." Rebekah said, her eyes scanning the room.

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," you said, shaking your head.

"You're not going to make a fool of yourself darling, you're going to have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a little shove.

You took a deep breath and headed toward Elijah, your heart racing. He looked very similar to how he dressed in the memory he shared with you, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

He was standing alone by the bar, his gaze distant. You walked up to him and smiled, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Nice outfit, all you are missing is the ponytail,” you added, grinning at him.

"Some things are better left in the past," he teased, his eyes wandering over your dress. "You look lovely," he added, a small smile on his face.

"You like the corset?" You asked, biting your lip and giving him a twirl. You always felt so giddy around him, it made you do silly things, like this.

His eyes widened, and a smirk spread across his face. "Yes, it's quite flattering," he said, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

You blushed but maintained your composure, Elijah liked confident women, and you were going to show him what he was missing.

"Does it remind you of the era?" You asked, a flirty tone in your voice.

"No, it's far too revealing for the time period," he smirked.

"Oh, really? You didn't think this was sexy in the middle ages?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that," he chuckled.

"Good," you smiled, "I worked hard on this outfit."

He looked at you, his face full of curiosity.

"You are definitely thorough in your research," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"I forgot to tell you I got an A+ on the paper, thank you for your help," you said, smiling brightly.

"It was a purely selfish reason, I wanted an excuse to spend time with you," he said, his words catching you off guard.

"Oh, I," you stammered, not sure how to respond.

"You are always very easy to be around," he said, giving you a gentle smile.

You smiled and nodded, his compliment filling your heart with joy.

"Care to dance?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand and led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and possessive.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. He was so handsome, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees.

You closed your eyes and let him lead, the feel of his hands on your body making your blood run hot. You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt surreal.

"I have a confession," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.

"What is it?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"You make me nervous," he stuttered, his words causing your heart to flutter.

You let out a louder laugh than you meant too, then turned bright red and some people glanced at you. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't stop.

"Me? Nervous? How do I make you nervous?" You asked, genuinely curious.

He tilted his head in confusion, a wide smile forming on his face.

"I mean, look at you," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're breathtaking."

You blushed, not used to receiving such compliments. "You make me nervous too," you confessed, smiling shyly.

"I know," he smirked, causing you to blush deeper.

You gazed up at him, his brown eyes full of warmth and admiration. He truly was an incredible man.

You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, letting the music and the feeling of his arms around you wash over you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for each other. Your heart soared, you felt like you were dreaming.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?"

Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced, his question sending a rush of heat to your core.

He wanted you.

You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand, a smirk forming on his lips as he led you toward a balcony. You followed him eagerly, your heart hammering in your chest.

The cool air hit your face, and he led you to a secluded area, away from the other party guests. You gazed at him, your desire for him overwhelming.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed you up against the wall. His lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes burning into you.

His fingers brushed against the side of your face, then he leaned in and kissed you. It was slow and passionate, his lips soft against yours. You let out a quiet moan as you melted into his kiss.

He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of desire. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed.

"Then why were you kissing Hayley?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt terrible for even saying it, it made you seem jealous and possessive. You knew it wasn't fair for you to get upset at him, you had no right to. But you couldn't help it.

His eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. "So you are jealous?"

You blushed and averted your gaze.

"It was a mistake, she caught me by surprise," he explained, his fingers brushing your hair back. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed you again, this time harder and more passionate.

He broke the kiss and whispered, "I've been drawn to you from the moment I met you."

Your heart soared at his words, your desire for him overwhelming. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, you needed him.

"Do you want to see my room? I have some books to share with you," you asked, knowing neither of you were doing any reading tonight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Lead the way," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Your heart pounded with excitement, and you took his hand in yours, leading him up to your room. You couldn't believe this was happening.

He closed the door behind him and kissed you, leading you backwards towards your bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you fell down on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The corset making it difficult to breath, you tried to keep calm as you looked up at him. The reality was better than any fantasy you could ever dream of.

He placed his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your body, his fingers tugging at the laces of the corset. He did it slowly, each pull causing your breasts to spill out a little more.

He hummed softy, leaning down and kissing your neck and collarbone as your corset fell to the ground. He was so gentle with you, treating you with care, his movements deliberate and confident.

He unlaced the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. He gazed down at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his reaction.

"Did you wear this in the hope I would take it off?" He asked, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you blushed.

He chuckled, leaning down and taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he licked and sucked your nipple, his hands kneading your breast. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He pulled back and smiled down at you, then began to undo his cravat. You watched him eagerly, biting your lip as he pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out and helped him, your hands brushing against his toned chest.

He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. "I've dreamt of this moment for so long," he murmured.

He reached out and pulled your dress up over your head, leaving you in just your panties and stockings. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked down at you.

You felt confident under his gaze, he made you feel beautiful. He leaned down and kissed you again, his fingers running up your thighs, playfully pulling on your stocking and letting it snap back into place. You giggled at his teasing.

He smiled against your lips and tugged your panties off. His eyes raked over your body, his gaze filled with desire.

You reached out and helped him remove the rest of his clothes, your heart racing.

He lowered himself down on the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly. His hand lifted your thigh around his hips, and he ran his fingers along your thigh and between your legs, a groan escaping his throat at the feel of how wet you were for him. You blushed at his reaction and looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Are you nervous?" He asked, looking down at you, his gaze tender and warm.

"A little, you're the first vampire I've been with," you admitted.

He chuckled, a wide smile on his face. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice.

You couldn't help but giggle.

You ran your hand up and down his chest, then slowly down to his hard length. You took his shaft in your hand and began to stroke him, a low groan escaping his lips.

Your eyes locked, his gaze filled with desire as he watched you pleasure him. You increased the pressure of your strokes, rubbing the tip of him in your hand.

"You feel nice," you whispered, your lips inches from his own.

He smiled and pulled you on top of him, your breasts against his chest as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your ass. You grinded on him slowly, the feel of his cock against your pussy making you gasp.

You sat up and slowly sank down onto him, the feel of him inside of you making your breath catch in your throat. He felt so good.

"You're perfect," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you back down to him, kissing you deeply. You began to rock on top of him, the friction causing you to moan softly. He ran his hands over your back, groaning into your ear as you rode him, taking him deeper.

It was slow, hot and sticky, the two of you getting to know each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Your orgasm slowly built, your moans becoming more and more intense. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing becoming ragged.

Your heart pounded against his as he gazed up at you, a smile on his lips. His hands gripped your hips and he took control, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth. You gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You felt a connection beyond lust or attraction, something deep and beautiful, and you knew he felt it too.

You rocked together, lost in one another, and you let yourself fall apart on top of him. Your body spasming, a long moan escaping your throat as your orgasm crashed into you, your muscles clenching around him.

He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "That's my girl," he whispered.

He gently rolled you on to your side, keeping your bodies connected. His fingers digging into your thigh as he held it against his hip, kissing and nuzzling your neck. He took you slowly, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His eyes never left yours, the love you felt for each other in that moment, palpable in the room.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, you tugged his head towards yours as you kissed him. He kissed you back, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts deep and rough.

His eyebrows arched upwards, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. Your clung to his shoulders, moaning his name as he found his release deep inside of you. He held you close as he came down, the two of you a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.

He kept kissing you, soft and unhurried, his hand stroking your thigh, keeping you connected and still wrapped around him. You both caught your breath as you held each other close, neither wanting the moment to end.

"I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you," you murmured into his ear, causing him to pull away and smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "And I, you."

He gently slipped out of you and pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, his arms encircling you in his embrace. You fell asleep in each other's arms, content and happy, dreaming of more nights just like this.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez Reaction ✧ Seeing your ex in public

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: reaction, some angst, comfort ✧ warnings: implications of unhealthy relationships in the past in some parts

Hongjoong:

tonight is supposed to be unforgettably wonderful as you're on a date with your boyfriend to see an artist you both like a lot performing live for the first time

instead it becomes unforgettable for an entirely different reason, because only a few songs in, someone eerily familiar stands right next to you

you're not sure if your ex has realized yet that they're standing right next to you, but you sure are aware of it, and you instinctively get closer to your boyfriend

the latter uses the opportunity to whisper something about how glad he is to be sharing this moment with you in your ear, until he too spots your ex standing right next to and he wraps his arm tightly around you

"Wanna get out of here for a minute?" he asks, his mood immediately becoming serious

it takes merely a weak nod from you for him to lead you through the crowd and away from all the people

as you're visibly uncomfortable, he does his best to comfort you until you start crying in his arms because you feel so sorry that now he can't enjoy the concert because of you

however, he assures you that it's not your fault and tells you not to think like that, while doing whatever he can to help you calm down until you feel okay again

Seonghwa:

your boyfriend knows that you have a bit of a difficult history with your ex, even though you're mostly over what happened now

so when you suddenly spot your ex as you're out in public, he seems more tensed up about it than you are

his grip around your hand becomes firmer immediately, and you can tell he's not sure whether he should try to play off his feelings or openly glare at your ex

so you quickly suggest to go take another route to your destination, and when your boyfriend doesn't immediately comply, you get a bit pushy because you currently can't imagine a more awkward situation than those two actually meeting

he does eventually let you lead him elsewhere, but his mood stays the same all throughout your date, until you're finally home and you confront him about it

that's when he realizes he hasn't been doing you any good with his behaviour, and he finally apologizes for it

"I'm really sorry... I didn't realize I kinda ruined our date with that. I just... can't forgive that person for hurting you like that," he explains

and though your date wasn't as fun as it could've been because of that you also understand that his reaction is simply another proof of how much he cares about you

Yunho:

you're on a walk through the city together when you suddenly spot your ex with their new partner walking towards you from afar

them not having noticed you yet, you quickly grab a clueless Yunho by the hand and pull him into the next best store, the poor guy not knowing what's going on at all

"We could've just walked in normally if you wanted to check out this store so badly, no need to pull me in like you're running from someone," he jokingly comments, hoping for some kind of explanation for your sudden change in behaviour

there's serious worry in his eyes for a moment when you tell him that you are in fact running from someone, but he relaxes once you explain to him that you saw your ex walking in front of you and you really don't want to run into them

he understands and so he suggests actually looking around the store you're in for a while until your ex has hopefully passed you by

you end up having fun looking through the shop's assortment and once you're done joking around about the most questionable fashion items you can find inside you've already forgotten all about the awkward almost-encounter earlier

Yeosang:

a few weeks after starting to date Yeosang you run into your ex together

you split up on friendly terms so even now you sometimes talk to each other whenever you happen to meet each other

you current boyfriend mostly stays quiet as you introduce the two to each other, and only after a short conversation and saying your goodbyes does it dawn on him that that was your ex

it takes him literally the entire way home to process that fact and his feelings about it kalsdjföjs

"That was your ex??" - he asks that question in disbelief once you arrive at your place and you can't but chuckle at his delayed reaction

he keeps awkwardly asking questions about your ex throughout the evening until finally you figure out that he's jealous

so you give him a kiss on the cheek and you reassure him that there's nothing going on between you and them anymore

he'll probably need a few more kisses and some time to truly understand that you're nothing more than friends now, but eventually he'll be fine :')

San:

as you're out on a shopping tour he's still busy talking to you about the coat you've both been looking at and that he thinks would look good on you

however, when you suddenly stop responding he finds you staring at something else and as he's about to tease you for getting distracted, he realizes who the person is who's standing just across the street

he doesn't hesitate to take you by the hand, his firm and sudden grip startling you out of your shock and making you look at your boyfriend instead

"Let's get out of here. I know a better place to buy you a new coat," he says, even though it's clear he has a different reason for wanting to get you out of there as quickly as possible

will pull you a good distance away while always keeping his eyes on you, and when your ex is finally out of sight he makes you sit down on the nearest bench or wherever

"Do you need me to do anything or get you anything?" - asks that question while cupping your face with his hand and running his thumb across your cheek

will do whatever it takes to make you feel better and to forget all about that unfortunate encounter

Mingi:

he's a little slow in grasping the situation fully when you arrive at your favourite restaurant and you immediately ask him to go elsewhere

after all you've been looking forward to this date for so long, so your reaction makes no sense to him

that's until you manage to point out to him that your ex is sitting just a few tables away

he still tries to argue that it can't be that bad but you insist that it's horribly awkward for you, so eventually you leave together to find a different place to grab dinner

you can tell he feels bad about not immediately leaving with you as he seems absentminded the entire evening after that

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was that awkward for you to be near your ex," he eventually apologizes when you're back home but you assure him it's okay and no big deal

it really is just awkward for you after all, no hard feelings

and so the situation is quick to be resolved in his mind as well, and you spend the rest of the evening having fun together, forgetting about the encounter quickly

Wooyoung:

the urge to jump at your ex and fight them is huge when he spots the person who's suddenly making you tense up

however, with how you're freezing up and stopping in your tracks while staring at them in horror, he knows better than to make a scene

instead he puts his hands onto your shoulders as gently as he can so as not to startle you

"Are you okay?" he asks carefully, as if the answer wasn't obvious - and he realizes how stupid that question was too, because now he's trying to get you to move again without waiting for your answer

positions himself so he's covering the frame of your ex in your vision and once he can see you react to his action, he puts his arm around you protectively and starts walking with you

leads you away from that person first of all, and once he decides you're a safe distance away, he offers you a comforting hug which you accept

in case you have to cry out the shock, he'll make sure to take you somewhere you can do that undisturbed

Jongho:

you're out on a date when you can suddenly feel the mood changing

protectively has his arm around your shoulders and is pulling you close before you even notice that it's because your ex is just a few steps away from you

only when you find him lowkey glaring into a certain direction do you see their face and you shudder

upon feeling your reaction in his hold, he immediately turns all his attention to you and steers you away from that person

"Come on, let's go elsewhere," he quietly says, keeping his voice down in an attempt to calm you down

won't let go of you for as long as you're in distress, and if he does end up getting too far away from you and you cling to him, he'll go right back to holding you close

is going to buy you your favourite snack to share in order to distract you for now, and might even be a little too cute about it and deliberately embarrass himself to make you laugh

[atanx]

James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response

so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:

“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”

what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'

“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon,  members of the queer community.”

so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.

“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”

BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.

“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”

Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.

“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”

‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.

if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??

he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?

once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION

also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE

the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now

(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage

also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.

“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-

“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill

“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN

not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.

the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.

again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .

“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.

also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.

“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”

I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk. 

once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner. 

also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.

“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!

he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????

he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.

he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.

also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.

“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender. 

James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”

this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.

he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.

the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[carlyraejepsans]

Papyrus is so weird in comparison to the rest of the cast, like a prominent theme of Undertale is how the past can hold people back and the necessity of accepting it and understanding that it should not define your present and leave you stagnant.

Toriel and her inability to protect Asriel and the children who pass through her doors, Sans and his mysterious past that he can never return to, Undyne and the pain of monsters and the monster history that she embodies more than any other character, Alphys and the determination experiments that haunt her, Mettaton and his past identity that he runs away from, Asgore and the choices he made in grief, and most importantly, Flowey/Asriel and the self he can never really go back to.

Papyrus is literally the ONLY main cast member with no relationship to the past that is holding him back in some way. Like, all of the main issues this guy faces within the narrative (his popularity and not being a member of the Royal Guard) are all issues relating to his present state, and theres no real sense that they cause him to stagnate. He's written in such a vastly different way than every other character, down to him being the only character that literally cannot kill you (the game crashes if you do). Truly insane individual.

extremely well said. although, i think he fits more with the rest of the cast if you parse undertale's story as one about self imposed narratives, as well as past mistakes as a cause of stagnation.

toriel denounced all monsterkind as violent opportunists and forced herself to suffer isolation and grief, alone, as a sense of failed duty towards asriel.

undyne did likewise, denouncing humans rather than monsters as unredeamable murderers and turning herself into a hero. she handles all of the waterfall area alone, she strengthens her resolve thinking about how much people count on her, and never confesses her feelings to alphys because she doesn't want to burden her with them in case she dies in battle

asgore and alphys, their own parallels as well, are both haunted by their past mistakes and have convinced themselves that living a lie is better than facing the truth of the damage you caused

sans lost his home and friends and is aware of the anomaly: this caused him to take up a "play the cards i'm given" attitude where he passively rolls with every punch that the current timeline throws at him, without letting himself strive for anything more than what small solace he has.

mettaton is also haunted (lol) by his past. he's also decided that, in order for his dreams to be achieved, he HAS to sacrifice the personal connections he holds dear, and that that sacrifice is one he is willing to make (first napstablook, then alphys, then the entire underground when he gains a chance to go to the surface for himself)

papyrus... well, like you said, he distinctly lacks the element of the Past to drag him back from personal development, but like the rest of the cast he DOES have the accompanying self imposed narrative with the same effect. papyrus is lonely! but he's also come to the conclusion that what would fill that loneliness is fame and a vague notion of "popularity". this leads him to not realize the value of his friendship with undyne and keep other people at arms' lenght.

still, i agree with you. his lacking a character defining past (especially in light of how much his brother's still clearly affects him) is a very peculiar writing choice. it's one of the main reasons why i think he's some kind of amnesiac

[toskarin]

how did you get started making music, tools-wise?

I've talked about this a bit before and I don't necessarily recommend doing this, so skip the following two paragraphs and go right to the one under the break if you actually want the method I recommend

I lied to a girl I liked from my school and told her that, because I could play guitar I could also play piano, so I could teach her to play piano. both of these statements were lies.

I had to panic and learn both guitar and piano one week ahead of the lessons I was giving her as an excuse to hang out. so I self-taught in a haze of panic and "maybe she'll like me" (she did not) (but she kind of did) (but she was bicurious) (but she was wishy-washy on if she wanted to get together and her parents didn't like me) (and her parents were homophobic) (I think she might have texted me at one point years down the line to tell me she had a girlfriend but it was after I deleted our text history and I'm chronically unable to remember to put people's names into my contacts so who knows)

but that's all an aside. that's a bad method.

anyway if you want to start making music in earnest, doing what I did when I got serious about making songs instead of trying to impress girls whose parents wanted to destroy me with their minds here's a better answer

go acquire FL Studio. it's apparently really easy to do this because people have been acquiring it for years, or so I've heard. FL is good for learning because you've got 20 years worth of free tutorials available to you on youtube to dig through and plenty of stock vsts to play with out of the box

FL Studio is, realistically, the only tool you actually need to start making music. you could get away with less, but it's what I used, and as long as you don't pick up Specific Bad Habits, your experience with it will transfer to other DAWs if you decide to switch it later

that's all, really

if you go this route, the golden rule I'm going to impart on you right now is that you need to have a limiter on your songs. the default FL studio song templates have one, so you should keep it until you know enough to know why you might adjust something like that

it doesn't matter if it sounds fine in the editor without a limiter. everyone thinks it's not a big deal at the time, but as you get more experienced, there's literally nothing short of getting in legal trouble that you'll regret more than realising that your old work is almost entirely unsalvageable because you didn't put a limiter on it and now half of the audio is just lost data to clipping

I'm gonna put a few more recommendations for things I've used, just so you can consider them if you need something else to chew on. everything past this point is entirely optional and you'll do just fine with FL Studio alone. in fact, probably don't worry about everything below the line

-=-

items marked with [F] are free.

DIGITAL AUDIO WORKSTATIONS THAT AREN'T FL

for tracker-based editing and chiptunes, use Renoise. you'll either love or hate trackers, and while they have a steeper learning curve than piano roll DAWs, they might come more naturally to you. I personally think that Renoise is a lot of fun to use. it kinda has an "addictive" quality to it, as funny as that is to say

for quickly sketching songs, use [F]Jummbox. it's an html workstation (multiplatform!) that writes your sketches to a url, meaning it's pretty easy to collaborate on musical sketches. Jummbox is good for making chiptune style instrumentals, but what makes it especially accessible is the fact that it works on a piano roll system, which will be familiar to you if you're working in FL

for writing sheet music, I recommend starting with [F]Musescore. I'll warn you right now that there aren't really any good notation editors and you're making lesser-of-evils decisions when you pick any of them, but it's probably the best compromise out there right now. it's the one I use when I need to hand something to a physical musician. you can also export pieces as midi, although there's better ways to do that lol

-

VSTs

if you can acquire Pianoteq, do that. if you feel uncomfortable with acquiring it, [F]Keyzone Classic is free and can sound pretty nice with a bit of work, but you really have to learn to work with it

if your workstation can handle it performance-wise, go pick up [F]Vital - Spectral Warping Wavetable Synth. there's tons of free presets for this out there and it sounds good. cool synth. Serum: Advanced Wavetable Synthesizer is also good and has plenty of presets, but it's on the pricy side, so consider how comfortable you are with [finding a friend to buy it for you]

[F]Decent Sampler doesn't do much out of the box, because it's just a tool for playing sample banks, but if you go to [F]Pianobook, you can find tons of weird and fun sample packs of just about everything you can imagine. sounds derived from folk instruments, industrial equipment, lego sets, stylophones, choirs, whatever. incredibly useful.

Valhalla VintageVerb. this is the reverb plugin. you want this one. [F]Valhalla Super Massive is also good but it's more focused on alien-sounding reverb effects and enormous spaces, so it's kind of got a niche use case and you should be a little careful with it

if you've heard a lo-fi hip hop song on youtube, it probably used [F]iZotope Vinyl. this one can save you a lot of time if you're going for that sound because it comes with all the little vinyl flourishes outside of compression (like dust crackling) that you'd otherwise have to add yourself

[F]Genny VST is advertised as giving a genesis/megadrive sound, but what actually makes it shine is that it's an actual synth emulating the YM2612 and SN76489 sound chips. this means you can create your own sounds that work within those specs, which is a lot of fun! definitely beats just using samples, if you ask me

-

HARSH VSTS THAT I PERSONALLY LIKE BUT WHICH ALSO MIGHT !!HURT!! YOU. SO BE VERY CAREFUL USING THESE.

[F]Tritik Krush is a bitcrushing plugin. it does a good job of bitcrushing and downsampling. I use it a lot in my songs, but you've really gotta know how to keep this one under control, because it's fully capable of making painful sounds on accident and can completely devour your mix

[F]FSA Latcher is a gorgeous noisebox. it screams in horrible ways and makes dying machine noises in various colours. this is the musical equivalent of working with radioactive material, so be extremely careful using this in anything you don't want to hurt the listener's ears

girlfriend just told me I have to recommend [F]Noise Engineering Ruina to you if I'm making a category with this heading. I don't personally use it, but she likes it (she's better at music than I am) and it's free, so you should go pick it up. "it annihilates sounds very deliciously" (maybe I should use it)

-

hope that helps a bit!

[bowelfly]

Honest question from someone who also dislikes "invasive species control that amounts to kill on sight": what do you suggest as an alternative control effort should I encounter say a spotted lanternfly or a spongy moth? I really hate just killing bugs for being in the wrong place. Thanks!

i honestly don't think there is much that any individual person can do. like in general once an exotic species has established in an area there's almost nothing short of a fast and concerted multimillion dollar years-long eradication program that even stands a chance of actually removing them entirely. and this is a rant for another day but generally nobody wants to pay for the kind of program that stands an actual chance of being successful. it doesn't matter how many concerned citizens you convince to go around smashing animals, if even a handful get missed, and many many more than a handful will get missed, the survivors can lay enough eggs and rapidly enough that the population will have no trouble rebounding. the way to eradicate an invasive species, when it's even possible, is through very strategic and large-scale application of pesticides, environmental control, parasitoids, and other integrated pest management strategies.

and that's not even mentioning that the whole smash-on-sight thing requires people to recognize the target and not just smash every bug they see which is also another rant for another day because you would not fucking believe how bad people are at identifying insects like i've had fucking crane flies reported as "murder hornets" (another rant). i genuinely believe that entomology should be a core primary and secondary education subject alongside history and math. the world is mostly bugs and it's important to know at least a little about them. without mass knowledge, the whole campaign just engenders a further generalized fear and disgust and violence towards all insects which is fucking nasty to me.

anyway i'm getting distracted. back to your question, what should you do if you encounter a spotted lanternfly or spongy moth or japanese beetle or whatever? report it to your state's department of agriculture if you live in the united states, or to whatever the equivalent is if you live elsewhere. chances are they're already aware of the infestation in your area but there's always the chance that they're not. with any luck they're one of the few ones that actually has the funding to operate a large-scale control program and are working on it already. again i'm very fatalistic about these things and don't think that eradication is possible in most cases by the time the exotic insect is discovered but at the very least it is often possible to keep the populations in check to the point that they're not an ecological/economic catastrophe using the IPM methods mentioned above--with enough funding. you can kill the bug if you want but smashing one bug or a dozen or a hundred or a thousand isn't going to do shit in the long run or the large scale and it's not the bug's fault that it is where it is.

[firesnap]

i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.

[st4rhwa]

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj

김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader smut, light angst, fluff

synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.

cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats

wc: 5.7k

𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)

sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself

"-you'll come, right?"

just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.

that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.

but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.

"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?

"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.

"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.

you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.

"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.

your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.

your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.

you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.

his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.

you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.

the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.

in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.

you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.

you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.

your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.

you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.

maybe you were just a coward too.

you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.

you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.

"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."

your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.

you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."

his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."

to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.

"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."

"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."

"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"

hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-

"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."

you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.

you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.

you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.

"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."

you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.

you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.

"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."

sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.

"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.

you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.

you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.

you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.

you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.

laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.

your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.

you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.

you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.

hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.

seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.

he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.

he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.

he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.

"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."

his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.

or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.

"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.

he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.

and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.

the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.

hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.

"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"

he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"

"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.

"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.

"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."

hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"

you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.

but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"

"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.

that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."

hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.

"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."

the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.

he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.

he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.

the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."

with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.

his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.

you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"

he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.

he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.

"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.

he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.

hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..

"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.

"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."

© st4rcig4r 2024 i do not give permission for my writing to be copied, translated or posted anywhere but tumblr.

[sorencd]

could you write something about reader being scared of wilson cheating on her but then he conforts her? cuz with the history of cheating that he has i would be scared lmao

SANCTUARY

a/n : thank u sm for the req! i love me some good old comfort w wilson. i don't know how this turned into 1.4k i told myself i would keep it short lol. reader is a doctor btw! and charlotte is the name i gave ur friend :)

w.c. : 1.4k

"dude, are you okay?"

your friend's sudden voice that came out of nowhere brought you back from your mindless gazing, you didn't even notice that you were absent-mindedly staring off into space. a few patients got scared because they thought you were judging them with your stare, and after a few complaints, your friend finally approached you to ask if you were okay.

"hm?"

"you're definitely not okay."

"i'm- yeah! i'm totally fine. you were saying?"

she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, not believing a single word that came out of your lips. you knew your actions were giving away too much, but even if you tried hiding the fact that something was bothering you, she'd probe and pry more relentlessly.

"what's wrong? there's something wrong. are you okay?"

you sighed defeatedly, there's no more escaping her. figuring that there isn't much to do aside from telling her what's on your mind, you pulled your friend into an empty room and shut the door. resting your back against the surface and in a hushed whisper, ushered her to come closer.

"are you pregnant?"

"what- no! charlotte what on earth- say that again and i'm no longer telling you."

"ok ok! i'm shutting the fuck up. you may continue."

a brief pause encapsulated the unoccupied room before you opened your lips hesistantly. opening up to people was something you always found hard to do, whether they be a family member or a close friend, you could never easily voice out your thoughts. but you couldn't really hold this in any longer, you needed to tell someone.

"i've been feeling... an awful lot insecure lately. not the kind that involves my appearance! that's saved for tuesdays."

"then what kind?"

"it.. it's about wilson.."

"what did he do? do you need me to chop off his-"

"no no! none of that! it's just... i'm scared i'll just end up as another ex-this or ex-that or someone that house would mention to him and james would gag whenever he hears my name. i don't know maybe i'm just being over-dramatic."

"have you tried telling wilson about how you’re feeling?"

"i've tried starting the conversation.. but i'd always end up chickening out. so now i'm stuck with these self-deprecating thoughts and i don't like it one bit." you ended with a huff, hiding your face behind your hands and tiredly letting your shoulders slouch down. "it's hard talking to patients when every single one of them would ask me if 'everything's alright', i should be the one asking them that!"

"you know, you shouldn't be bottling your feelings. a relationship goes two ways, don't be scared to tell any of this to wilson! asking for reassurance is never a bad thing, and it doesn't make you needy or demanding or whatever, it's your right as his partner! i'm sure wilson would understand, he loves you very much, how could he not?"

"you're right.. i'll talk to him when he have lunch together."

"you won't chicken out?"

"i won't. i swear."

"you better. i'll be watching you."

you quickly opened the door to avoid staying in the room for too long, you didn't want someone to catch you too talking about personal matters. charlotte waved you off before returning back to her department, leaving you alone. you decided that for the remainder of your vacant and spare time you were going to rehearse what you plan on telling wilson, you didn't want to embarrass yourself and stutter the entire time. so you scurried away into your office, determined to go through with your plan.

if anyone were to press their ear against the door, they would have heard your incessant muttering and would've thought you were insane. you had your feet propped up on the table as you recited word for word how you were going to tell all of this to wilson, despite knowing that when the time comes, all of it would be useless and you'd go completely off script. but it gets your mind off of things so you carried on. a familiar knocking pattern resounded over your hushed whispering, it was wilson. he had this specific knocking style that you grew accustomed too. you felt a shiver run down and a dreaded feeling dripped in each step you took on your way to open the door for james, since you kept it locked, not wanting anyone to see you panicking in your office. you twisted the door knob slowly, and behind it was wilson. standing happily and his usual dorky smile making an appearance when he saw your face.

"hi."

"hi. you ready to grab lunch?"

you turned your head to the side before answering, a habit that always showed whenever you were nervous and you never seemed to be able to get rid of it. to try and avoid him from gaining any suspicion that something's wrong and notice how tense and sweaty your palms were, you tried making small talk. 'i'm not myself at all.'

the entire short walk to the canteen you listened to wilson ramble about some case house had, and how they're having a hard time diagnosing the patient. and no matter how hard you tried focusing on wilson's voice the gnawing feeling won't stop buzzing and crawling at the back of your mind, you felt sick.

wilson, from the moment you opened the door to your office, knew something was up. you didn't have that bright favorite smile of his, nor did you have any snarky remarks to say while he was storytelling. you didn't contribute to the conversation at all, and it wasn't like you. it carried on even until you two came back from the canteen and retreated to his office. he wanted to ask you what's wrong, but he didn't want to pressure you into saying anything you aren’t ready to tell him. so instead he waited until you were the one to approach him. he was also half-nervous that if he ever asked, you'd just suddenly blurt out that you two should break up. and he'd rather not have that happen.

"james.. i'm..." now it was wilson's turn to be nervous. "you love me, right?"

you had this.. sad look on your face that wilson wasn't used to, he couldn’t describe it. you looked defeated, tired even. he began to replay the last few days, you were fine! you were your usual, loving, witty, happy self!

"yes, of course i do." he replied with all seriousness, dropping the files he picked up to reorganize them. "why do you ask?"

"it's nothing, really. and i don't know why i did."

he gently approached you, careful not to seem condescending when he gently took a hold of both your wrists.

"i'm pretty sure you going quiet is never a good idea and is 'nothing'. come on sweetheart, you can tell me anything."

when you looked up into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity, you cracked and gave in. you told him everything that was on your mind.

"i'm- i was.. i was scared, james. i was scared that you'd leave me for some... better girl or something i don't even know myself, and that i'd just end up as another one of your exes. i don't want that! i don't want any of this to end and i'm so so scared that it eventually would and i can't do anything about it and i couldn't tell you earlier because i was scare you'd get mad or somethi-"

"(y/n)."

the soft mention of your name stopped you from rambling on any further. and now you were in his embrace, his arms wrapped around you perfectly and tightly. when wilson pulled away, youhad tears threatening to fall from your eyelids.

"i'd never leave you for anyone else, (y/n). why would i when i already found the one? i already found you. you just- complete me. i can't put into words how much you make me feel content or- or happy, loved, it's like you were always here. i would have to be an idiot to let you go. besides, you know too much about me. you're stuck with me forever."

he still managed to make you laugh despite the tears running down your cheeks. you probably looked insane, laughing and crying at the same time.

"you're- i love you, james."

"i love you too, (y/n). don't ever be afraid to talk about anything, okay?"

"okay."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[teyamskxawng]

In Heat [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

The rundown: You seek out Lo'ak, your best friend, in the midst of your first heat cycle. Like the good friend he is, Lo'ak eases you through it.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 5.5k

A/N: user @teyamsxawng's first fic is about lo'ak??? yeah...i have neteyam fics in the works but this was the first avatar fic i wrote so i'm pushing it out now :) i'm also really scared to post my work so please be kind lol. i have like six chapters of this fic written so far with no clear ending in sight, so expect to see more of this soon.

Your first heat was about to begin, and you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you heard would be an excruciating experience. You had a rough idea of what your first cycle would entail–discomfort, fatigue, and a touch of humiliation–but little did you know just how much it would affect you. Bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grappled with an intensity you had never anticipated.

As you lay on your sleeping mat in the solitude of your home, you curled into a tight ball, desperately trying to cope with the nearly-unbearable pain. The sensation was comparable to harboring a living, breathing creature within you, its heartbeat sending shockwaves of agony throughout your body.

You imagined it being a tiny drummer, vigorously banging its drums in tune with your torment. Hopelessly, you squeezed your legs together, desperate for even the slightest relief amidst the immense pressure emanating from your core. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected your heat to be this intense and all-consuming, turning your routine upside down and leaving you at the mercy of your body.

Amid your futile attempts at alleviating the mounting pressure with your own untrained fingers, you realized that you had no clue what the fuck you were doing. Your anxiety levels skyrocketed as you envisioned the possibility of exacerbating your situation, fearing that you'd end up hurting yourself even more if you tried anything on your own.

With every passing moment, your mind betrayed you–compulsively circling back to the one individual you were trying to distract yourself from: Lo'ak, your best friend.

Tackling that emotional behemoth would be a mental expedition akin to scaling the Hallelujah Mountains with your eyes closed, and you lacked the cognitive stamina for such an endeavor. Regardless, the stubborn recollection of the boy proved to be relentless, a mental scratch that demanded to be itched. Memories of his ability to make your world right again resurfaced, and you couldn't help but contemplate that maybe he was the secret recipe to your current dilemma.

You couldn't deny that you were on the verge of making a catastrophically bad decision, one that would go down in your personal history book as an all-time low. However, it was as if your body had mustered all of its strength to overpower your subconscious completely, that annoying little voice of reason, and take matters into its own hands.

Before you knew it, you were on your two feet, feeling slightly wobbly but determined, run-walking out of your tent like a woman on a mission, seeking out your best friend.

You didn't even have to engage in any sort of exuberating journey to figure out where he'd be. It was as if your very soul could smell him.

His clean, robust musk seamlessly mingled with the sweet spice of his cleansing balm, creating an alluring fusion that your senses simply couldn't resist. The aroma captivated you entirely, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your feet carrying your body toward the source of sensory delight.

Venturing into the forest, you kept a discreet distance from Hometree and the rest of the clanspeople, desiring solitude, with the only exception being Lo'ak.

You stumbled upon him near a shallow creek, his posture keen and attentive as he scanned the water for signs of fish darting through its depths. His back was a mesmerizing sight, his dark blue stripes tracing the outline of his sinewy, lean muscles.

So alluring was the view that you clenched your fists tightly, restraining yourself from fulfilling the irresistible urge to reach out and touch him. It was as if every fiber of your being demanded that you do so, and it took every ounce of your willpower to resist.

Against your will, an entirely embarrassing sound that was half sigh and half whimper escaped your lips. The unexpected noise caused Lo'ak to jolt in surprise, his hand swiftly reaching for the dagger at his hip as he whirled around to confront the sudden intruder.

In a fleeting moment, the anxiety etched on Lo'ak's face dissolved, replaced by mild amusement as he realized it was none other than his best friend. However, it didn't take long for his concern to resurface as he took in your bewildering appearance.

It was clear you were utterly discombobulated, a far cry from your usual poised demeanor. Your cheeks were flushed a deep purple. Your usually sleek, well-groomed hair had gone rogue, appearing as though you had either been tossing and turning in a fitful slumber or wrestling with a goddamn palulukan.

Adding to your unkempt appearance, your chest was drenched in sweat, heaving rapidly up and down as though you had just sprinted to your location yet still found yourself gasping for air. But what really captured Lo'ak's undivided attention, and sent a shiver down his spine, were your eyes.

Gone were the golden irises he knew so well, replaced by a dark hazel hue that was almost brown. Even more disconcerting, your pupils were dilated to an unnerving degree, appearing as wide as your irises themselves.

Without hesitation, Lo'ak rushed to your side and extended his arm to grasp your forearm gently. "y/n, are you good? You look kinda…"

He couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. The only way he could describe you was looking completely disheveled. And the sound you made earlier was definitely not something he was going to dwell on.

You blinked at Lo'ak's hand on your arm. You heaved several deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself. Opening and closing your mouth, it was evident you were wrestling with the right words to convey your thoughts. Eventually, you shook your head in defeat and covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly.

Witnessing this only served to heighten Lo'ak's concern. He furrowed his brow as he studied your condition. "y/n?" he inquired nervously, imagining the worst-case scenario.

Still shielding your face with your hands, you managed to mumble something that might've resembled a sentence. Lo'ak couldn't help but let out a snicker that briefly reverberated through his body. Regaining his composure, he tilted his head in confusion, entirely unable to decipher your garbled words. He admitted honestly, "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

You sighed in defeat. The close proximity of Lo'ak, combined with the overwhelming frustration you felt between your legs, completely overshadowed any embarrassment you may have otherwise experienced.

"I said," you started, your dark eyes fixated on Lo'ak's with an intensity he couldn't ignore, "I just started my first heat cycle." Lo'ak's eyes went wide with shock at your confession.

Of all the things he'd imagined you saying, this possibility ranked the lowest on his mental list. He found himself at a loss for words and unsure what to think or do, especially as he involuntarily pictured you in a state of undeniable sexual frustration.

In response, all he could muster was a weak "oh," his voice faltering mid-syllable, making the situation all the more awkward.

You emitted what sounded like a pained groan, your emotions threatening to overflow into tears. In a vulnerable gesture, you allowed your forehead to rest against Lo'ak's shoulder. He couldn't help but tense up in response to your warm body pressed against him.

"Lo'ak," you whispered through clenched teeth, "it hurts so bad."

Lo'ak found himself struggling for air in the tense situation. With a shaky nod, he attempted to comprehend your words and determine the next course of action. As your best friend, it shouldn't have been a shock that you sought him out during your time of need, especially when that need was your first heat cycle.

Lo'ak hesitantly cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence there. "Uh. Are you gonna be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyelashes tickled Lo'ak's shoulder, causing him to shudder. Your voice was filled with uncertainty as you admitted, "I don't know. I can't… I'm scared I'll make it worse or hurt myself or…I don't know. I just need—"

Your grip on Lo'ak's arms tightened, your words trailing off. The message was clear—you had no idea what to do, and you were scared, turning to Lo'ak for solace and support.

In that instant, Lo'ak found himself filled with a sudden surge of empathy and understanding. With newfound determination, he placed his hands on your back, extending his fingers across your skin as he gently rubbed up and down.

Upon feeling his reassuring touch, you exhaled sharply, adjusting your position to bury your face in the crook of his neck. For a while, you two simply remained like that, sharing gentle caresses and the soothing sound of your uneven breaths.

At last, you found your voice amidst the silence. "Lo'ak," you whispered, your tone holding a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability.

It was barely audible, a faint whisper in the wind, yet Lo'ak caught it without any trouble, and he could undeniably sense the subtle movement of your body, inching even closer to his.

At first, Lo'ak couldn't tell whether you had done that deliberately, but then you shifted your weight further down onto his leg, nestling his left thigh snugly between your own two legs, ever so gently grazing yourself on his taut muscle.

Lo'ak had to consciously remind himself to breathe, to inhale and exhale, because there was no way that you could possibly be getting yourself off on his leg. Shamelessly. Completely unapologetic.

The physical contact must not have been enough to provide you any relief, as evidenced by the fragmented cry of aggravation that reverberated against his neck. "It's not…."

Lo'ak fully understood your sentiment, nodding his head empathetically at your frustration. "No, yeah. Here, let's just—"

He pulled away from you, or rather, he gently moved you away from himself, extracting a barely audible whimper from you. He held you delicately by the shoulders, keeping you at arm's length, and his heart plummeted at the sight of the tears that meandered down from your glassy eyes.

You were hurting and in distress, and witnessing it tore Lo'ak apart. In a flurry of motion, he reached out to cradle your face, tenderly wiping away each persistent tear with the pads of his thumbs.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration as you tried to keep your composure. His gentle touch drove you to the brink of madness. You loathed feeling so exposed and powerless, particularly in Lo'ak's presence. You took solace in the fact that, at the very least, he wasn't poking fun at you or rubbing salt in your emotional wounds. No, he was actually being kind.

In a soft voice, Lo'ak said, "C'mere," as he retreated towards an enormous tree trunk. Gently placing a hand on your wrist, he coaxed you to follow him. And in your current state of emotional upheaval, you found yourself unable to resist his pull.

Lo'ak found a comfortable spot on the forest floor, casually sitting against a tree trunk with his legs stretched out before him.

"You can sit if you want…it might be easier," he offered, attempting to hide the fact that his own face was now flushed with what could only be described as a matching shade of purple to yours. The tension of the situation was not lost on either of you.

He didn't need to tell you twice. In a move that bordered on comedic desperation, you practically threw yourself onto Lo'ak's lap, settling on his left thigh with a soft sigh. The newly adjusted position felt infinitely better than before. The direct contact sent shivers down your spine, and the pressure on your core momentarily eased as you clamped your thighs around his leg.

You were desperately chasing that tantalizing feeling, and you could hardly bring yourself to feel a hint of shame as your body instinctively pursued it.

With an almost artful finesse, you adjusted your hips to attain the perfect level of pressure on your front. You were acutely aware of the dampness that began to form on Lo'ak's thigh due to your wetness, and even though a flicker of internal mortification plagued you, you simply couldn't find it in yourself to halt your actions.

With each move, you felt Lo'ak's leg flex beneath you, inadvertently applying exquisite pressure against the sensitive nub at your front.

The sensation was nothing short of divine. It was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but let out a moan of pleasure—a sound foreign to your ears but not significant enough to make you care.

Lo'ak, on the flip side, was experiencing an entirely different world.

His senses were fully alert, allowing him to take in every sight, sound, and feeling that unfolded before him in real-time. The whole situation played out like the most incredible, wet, thrillingly vivid dream he had ever encountered.

Desperate to maintain his composure, Lo'ak clenched his hands tightly against his sides, so much so that his knuckles turned a few shades paler than their initial blue.

As he attempted to stay as collected as possible, he couldn't help but wish for some magic remedy to sort out his persistent erection. It pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth at an awkward angle as if it were mocking him.

You unexpectedly interrupted his chain of thought, your voice sounding broken and desperate.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out, your eyes clenched shut as your mouth fell open, unable to suppress another moan. "just feels so good."

Lo'ak observed you with the utmost attention, his heart clenching tightly within his chest. In a barely audible volume, he softly reassured you, "Don't apologize; it's okay. Do what you have to do."

He was confident that, despite his subdued tone, you could hear and understand him fully.

You inhaled deeply, your breath quavering as you attempted to calm yourself down. Your tongue swept across your parched lips, and you swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. You found yourself unable to respond, yet continued experimenting with different rhythms and levels of pressure, determined to find the optimal approach to take yourself to the verge of ecstasy.

As your quest yielded fruitful results, you began better understanding your body.

With every sway of your hips, you experienced a surge of delight that coursed through your entire being. Each motion brushed your most sensitive areas against Lo'ak's narrow, muscular frame, sending chills up your spine.

You could feel your breaths growing shallower and more rapid, the warmth of your breath caressing Lo'ak's skin as your eyes remained tightly shut in indulgence. You allowed yourself to fully enjoy the moment, unabashedly taking advantage of his presence for the sake of your own pleasure.

As you continued, the tension within your abdomen stretched further and further, like a taut rubber band about to snap. Beads of sweat formed on your glistening skin, and your panting filled the air.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure threatened to pour forth, and your toes instinctively curled in response to the inevitable release building inside you. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a delicate mewl while elevating the speed of your motions.

You uttered desperately, "I'm so close, Lo'…fuck. It's so much." Your voice, filled with raw emotion, dripped with anticipation.

As that blissful sensation intensified within your lower abdomen, teetering on the edge of release, Lo'ak took a deep swallow. His voice was low and throaty as he softly whispered to you, providing reassurance and encouragement, "You're okay, y/n. Just let yourself go."

His words were just what you needed, a string of curses falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over and your walls clench around nothing. Your face softened with pleasure as you let out a shaky exhale, still sliding your now completely oversensitive clit across his thigh.

With a whispered sigh, Lo'ak reassured you, "Just like that, I've got you. It's okay." His hands tenderly left their perch at his sides, returning to the relative safety of your back. Gently, he stroked your soft skin, providing comfort as you descended from the peak of your intense high.

His soothing words and embrace gave you warmth from within, a sensation of security wrapping you up like a comforting blanket. You couldn't deny the feelings that Lo'ak's presence evoked in you.

At this point, one would presume you had suffered enough self-inflicted humiliation for a single day, but no.

As quickly as you bid farewell to your recent high, an insistent, throbbing ache woke anew within your deepest core. The previous experience proved a mere prequel, a teasing overture for the reverberating need you knew you just could not ignore. Your desires for touch and release cried out incessantly; Lo'ak was nestled beneath you all the while, painfully tempting—so close yet so frustratingly far.

With a gulp of determination and an unceremonious discard of any remaining semblance of pride, you peeled your eyes open, greeted by the half-lidded, entranced gaze of Lo'ak. His voice laced with curiosity; he inquired, "Is it better?"

You knitted your forehead together, desperately attempting to articulate the whirlwind of feelings that surged through you. It was a monumental challenge, one that left your mind racing with a relentless barrage of risqué thoughts involving what you desired Lo'ak to do to you.

Sighing, you muttered to yourself, "How is it still there?"

Lo'ak, on the other hand, was doing everything in his power to grasp the situation and figure out how he could alleviate your distress.

Puzzled, he inquired, "How is what still where…?"

In response, you actually hissed at Lo'ak, baring your fangs and all, unable to contain your frustration. He was so stupid. So warm and strong and pretty and stupid. You thought this as your eyes roamed over his strong, warm, and undeniably attractive figure.

"The urge, skxawng!" Your body involuntarily responded by undulating your hips against Lo'ak's leg. His eyes drifted downward for a moment to follow your movements before refocusing back on your face with concern.

You continued to explain, "The urge to be touched, I don't know why it's still there."

Suddenly, you glanced down at your own body, only then becoming aware of the rhythmic motion you had been unconsciously performing. In an effort to regain some semblance of control, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, willing your body to cease its movements.

Lo'ak grunted at the sight of you holding yourself back, the grip on your legs tight enough to cut off your circulation. Unable to stand it anymore, he pried your slender fingers from your thigh and gently took your hands in his own, much larger ones.

He tried to make eye contact with you but soon realized you were lost in your thoughts, staring intently at your lap. With a bit of patience, he finally managed to catch your dark irises when you fleetingly looked up at him.

"Okay," he began earnestly, "just tell me what I can do to make it better."

Though a bit hesitant, his voice was full of sincerity and determination.

Much to his surprise, your eyes widened even further. Shock, hope, and a dash of something else filled them all at once. He was really giving you complete freedom, entrusting himself to you to alleviate the pain of your heat.

With that, you decided to take the leap. "I want you to use your hands on me," you murmured, bringing yours and Lo'ak's intertwined hands toward your abdomen.

You watched Lo'ak's facial expressions with keen interest as you hesitantly guided his fingers to your most intimate spot. Despite the thin fabric separating his digits from your flesh, you couldn't suppress the breathy moan that escaped your lips.

"Right there," you continued, your voice trembling as you released your grasp on Lo'ak's hand. To your immense relief, his fingers didn't retreat. Instead, they maintained gentle pressure, sending pleasant tingles throughout your lower body.

Suddenly, it was as if Lo'ak had awakened from a daze. He looked up at you with curious desire evident in his eyes but still managed to convey his genuine concern.

"You're sure?" he inquired with the utmost caution, seeking all the verbal affirmation he could possibly get. No matter the circumstance, he would never let himself exploit you in such a vulnerable state.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at Lo'ak's search for reassurance.

You couldn't help but think that Lo'ak asking for consent would be an irresistible turn-on under any other circumstance. However, given your state of urgent need, you craved immediate physical touch and control, no questions asked.

In a display of impatience, you threw your head back in exasperation, your own hand carelessly venturing beneath your loincloth to explore the fiery depths of your core.

"Please," you managed to utter, despite never being one to steep as low as begging. It was embarrassing, but that was genuinely the only word that managed to take shape in your mind amidst your overwhelming desires.

Lo'ak, finally sensing the critical nature of the situation, offered a hastened nod to the increasingly desperate girl before him. His heart pounded with exhilaration as his trembling fingers made short work of loosening your loincloth.

Captivated, his eyes were drawn to the now fully exposed treasure that lay between your legs.

Despite the circumstances, an undeniable blush spread across your cheeks, leaving you feeling more exposed than ever before.

With utmost care, Lo'ak gently guided your legs further apart. His fingers, like tendrils of affection, traced a delicate path around the contour of your knee and then traveled along the length of your inner thigh. Their journey didn't end until they arrived at your already glistening core. A single, adventurous fingertip glided gingerly along your lips before hesitantly prodding at your entrance. Your spine stiffened involuntarily, a sharp gasp emitting from your lips.

"Shit. Does it hurt?" Taken aback, Lo'ak's eyes widened as he witnessed your intense reaction—his reassuring self-assurance evaporated.

He immediately interpreted your pinched expression as a sign of hurt or discomfort. Alarmed, he became a living statue, daring not to move a muscle, his finger maintaining its intrusion of the slightest degree.

With an air of bewilderment, you stammered, "No, it's just so different," struggling to put your experience into words.

"Is that a bad thing?" His panicked gaze searched for your eyes.

Trying your best to control your emotions, you responded with a bit of a quiver in your voice, "No. No, it's really good. Keep going."

Lo'ak let out a shaky, relieved exhale, thankful that he wasn't causing you any discomfort. He proceeded with a short nod, allowing his finger to submerge into your eager embrace.

Your jaw went slack, eyes flickering in surprise, head tilting back as you reacted to the new, fuller sensation. The taut muscles in your abdomen quivered as you fought the urge to press yourself against him even further.

Lo'ak maintained a leisurely rhythm with his finger. A tender whimper escaped your lips as you adjusted to the near-overwhelming sensation, waves of undiscovered pleasure enveloping you, easing the fiery longing at your very core.

"Shh, you're okay, y/n," Lo'ak murmured softly, the hushed vibration of his words coursing through your entire body. A warmth flooded your face, and you quickly looked down, suddenly feeling feverish.

Seemingly unfazed, a second of Lo'ak's fingers joined the first, proceeding at their unhurried speed while your own hands struggled to find something to occupy, something to keep you grounded in reality.

You reached a hand out to grasp his shoulder–your grip probably bordering on painful–while your other hand covered your mouth in a hopeless bid to stifle the embarrassing sounds you kept unconsciously making.

"Oh, fuck." You mumbled, your hips twitching as his thumb grazed over your swollen clit.

An overwhelming wave of delight crashed over you, unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It built in the pit of your stomach, erupting into a continuous stream of moans that escaped from your lips while Lo'ak performed the entrancing move once again.

With one last deft stroke of Lo'ak's thumb, you reached the peak of your sensations. All you could do was mumble out an embarrassed string of apologies as you shattered around him, legs shaking, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of your second climax.

"No, you don't have to apologize. That's it, there you go." Lo'ak whispered above you, his hands securely gripping your hips. He watched you in a mixture of amazement and disbelief as you came undone on top of him.

In the aftermath of your unforeseen encounter, you and Lo'ak found yourselves sitting together in a tense, stunned silence.

Lo'ak's fingers remain deeply lodged inside your warmth, a vivid reminder of the unexpected turn your meeting had taken. While slowly regaining composure, Lo'ak's thoughts naturally drifted to his own throbbing predicament. He fervently attempted to push those intrusive musings aside, focusing all his mental strength (what little of it he had left) on anything else that might've provided a reprieve.

To distance his mind further from his own problem, Lo'ak mustered up the courage to break the otherwise heavy silence.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he managed to ask, "How about now? Does, uh. Does it feel better?" His question, though well-intentioned, seemed to hang in the air, almost as if it were searching for a suitable landing spot.

Still catching your breath, you eventually acknowledged Lo'ak's efforts. With a meek nod and a quiet, "Yeah. Thank you," you did your part in attempting to lift the air of awkwardness that had befallen the two of you.

In response, Lo'ak merely mimicked your nod, his gaze drifting back to the delicate situation of his hand's continued connection with your lower half. A determined expression graced his face as he gently gripped your waist, carefully guiding his fingers free from your tight warmth.

The ridiculously obscene squelch of the movement caused you both to flush, despite everything you'd just done with each other.

As his fingers slid away, moistened with your slick, you were overtaken by a deep, almost primal desire to capture every last trace of yourself from his fingers. You felt absolutely unhinged.

Lo'ak, completely unaware of your internal struggle, stared at his own hand, held up between the two of you. His eyes widened in disbelief and amazement as he realized the impact his touch had on you.

Unsure of how to handle his newfound emotion, Lo'ak stealthily tried to wipe his hand on the lush grass beneath him, but your sudden vice-like grip stopped him.

Your eyes blazed with a mixture of desperation and wild abandon, yet you couldn't bring yourself to explain your overwhelming urge.

Instead, you gently guided Lo'ak's hand close to your face and took two of his soaked digits into your mouth. A soft moan escaped your lips as you savored the taste, feeling the fullness of his fingers as they filled your mouth.

You hastened your efforts in cleaning them, the graceful movement of your lips against his skin bringing you a sense of intense warmth and satisfaction as the previously overwhelming sensations within you began to subside. Finally, you released his hand, but not before planting a series of tender licks across his fingertips, ensuring that nothing remained.

As you finally met Lo'ak's eyes, you became painfully aware of the fact that you had just come on your best friend (twice).

Not only that, but you had to go and make matters even worse by practically worshiping his fingers with your mouth. The heat in your cheeks intensified as you gingerly placed Lo'ak's hand back in his lap.

With a desperate need to refocus your attention, you quickly averted your eyes from the boy to avoid being tempted by any further impulsive behavior. You busied your fingers with the painstaking task of reattaching your undone loincloth, double knotting the ties as if that would erase the memory of your exposed lower half from Lo'ak's mind.

Managing only to utter a brief "Sorry," you could sense the tension in the air. It was almost palpable.

Lo'ak, however, responded with a calming and reassuring deep voice, "You don't have to apologize."

You snorted inwardly at the thought that that was at least the third time he had said some variation of those very words to you in the last ten minutes alone.

You offered a subtle nod, unable to bring yourself to look at, speak to, or even touch your friend at that moment.

In a sudden, jerky movement, you disentangled yourself from his leg. You planted yourself on the forest floor, sitting against the same tree trunk that supported Lo'ak.

You couldn't help but glance back at his thigh, noticing the glistening evidence of your prior proximity. Your heart must have stopped beating for a good few seconds. You squeezed your eyes shut, mentally chanting a string of curses in a bid to cope with the irrepressible embarrassment that swept through your body.

The tense silence that ensued felt like an eternity, each moment stretching out painfully while the muted sounds of the Pandoran forest hummed in the background. Your mind raced, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan.

You really, really needed to leave. Like, yesterday. But you were still firmly rooted in your spot, too terrified to move even a muscle.

Then, without warning, the quiet was shattered by the violent rustling of leaves nearby. As if summoned by your wishful thinking, Neteyam appeared through the greenery. He wore an exasperated expression upon seeing you and his brother sitting together against the tree.

"Lo'ak! Dad sent you to fetch a single fish thirty minutes ago! What are you doing?!"

Neteyam's patience was wearing thin as he grabbed his brother by the arm, dragging him to his feet, his eyes probing for a reasonable explanation.

"Shit, bro. I'm sorry! I was fishing, I swear. But then I ran into y/n, and…" Lo'ak's voice trailed off, his eyes darting toward you as he recalled the events that transpired during your brief encounter. "…she just needed my help for a minute. It was really important."

Neteyam exhaled loudly in frustration, clearly annoyed at his brother's excuse. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his composure, and then fixed his glare upon Lo'ak, followed by you.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized you both, sporting matching blushes and attempting to maintain nonchalant expressions. Neteyam knew you two all too well; you were always getting into some kind of mischief together.

But today, he decided, he could spare you the grilling session. With an exaggerated shake of his head, he urged Lo'ak toward the direction of the creek, giving the back of his brother's head a not-so-gentle nudge as he passed by.

"A single fish," Neteyam mumbled, running a hand over his braids in disbelief as he glared at his brother.

You sensed that your chance for a getaway had finally arrived–it was now or never.

Your muscles tensed, eager to lengthen the gap between yourself and Lo'ak (or any other living being within your vicinity, for that matter). You sprung to your feet and hastily ran your fingers through your tousled hair, attempting to tame its disarray. You smoothed your top and made sure that your loincloth was properly adjusted.

"I should get going," you stammered, trying to swallow your nervousness. "I have some…um…chores I need to finish."

Both boys turned their attention toward you, with Neteyam giving you an amicable nod while donning a warm smile. Lo'ak, for his part, offered you a tender smile of his own, causing you to stifle the shy grin that threatened to conquer your entire countenance.

As you stood there, poised for your great escape, you were reminded of the delicacy and reassurance that radiated from Lo'ak just a few minutes prior.

Lo'ak, typically the embodiment of immaturity—a foolhardy best friend in the purest sense—managed to make your heart flutter with his tender warmth, nurturing you through your dire ordeal. He took care of you, offered praises and soothing words, and fuck. You wanted it again and again.

Abruptly, you snapped out of your daydream, realizing you were meandering down a dangerous tangent. You shook your head, as though physically trying to jolt your mind back into reality.

"Thanks, Lo'ak," you managed gratefully, making eye contact with him for just a bit longer than was probably necessary. "I mean it. For helping me."

Lo'ak, seemingly caught off-guard by your intense gaze, replied with a faint but earnest, "Course."

All the while, Neteyam couldn't help but furrow his brows at your peculiar exchange, very much aware of the odd dynamic between you two.

Sensing the need to move forward, Lo'ak immediately added, "Let me know if I can help you again."

Blushing at the implication, you nodded your head vigorously, fully aware that a similar scenario might very well arise in the future.

You offered a hasty wave to the two brothers before you spun around and embarked on your journey back to your home, navigating the wild landscape, distractedly ducking under low-hanging branches and batting away intrusive leaves.

There was no way you were making it through your first heat cycle alive.

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

[kerubimcrepin]

Dofus: The Production - reviewing the Xa and Tot interview

pictured: 7yo Joris, 10yo Joris, 60yo Joris, and 584-585yo Joris.

Funnily enough, this interview will touch onto something already mentioned in the artbook I already reviewed.

The origins of Joris as a character.

Sadly, it is machine translated, but I think we'll understand it well enough.

Here we learn that Joris was inspired by Vivi from Final Fantasy. I am sad to report I had never played Final Fantasy, and all my knowledge of him comes from hearsay at best, but Id do find there to be some very funny and twisted parallels between Vivi and Joris, beyond their troubles with lifespans (Vivi's being extremely short, Joris's the opposite...)

Like lol. Lmao even. (laughs fondly at the memory of having drawn fanart of Kerubim and Joris cannibalising one another as symbolism for Kerubim's selfish exploitation of Joris for his own emotional needs and regrets, — and Joris growing to derive pleasure from being exploited by Kerubim, and being a willing participant in the mixture of parentification and infantilization he experiences after the 600 years of living with his dad.)

Anyway,

Joris's progression as a character being "joke character -> character Xa created to be cool and awesome in a moment of inspiration, despite Tot's brief -> he bewitches them both fully" is so funny to me.

I always found it funny that Tot doesn't really see the forest (dofus aux tresors de kerubim) for the trees (child neglect and the psychological horror of Joris Jurgen's entire existence).

Not even going to comment on not knowing what the hell "epic-burlesque" is supposed to mean.

Now we move onto my favourite part of this interview: Tot's thoughts on Joris as a character.

I'm glad he said that they've worked on his life story through multiple centuries. Gives me hope that Tot has given thought to Joris's experiences during Leorictus Sheran-Sharms silly, perhaps even whacky reign.

I want to note the word choice here, — Joris isn't mysterious, but jaded. All of his caginess and "mystique" is attributable in equal part to his distrust of others, cynicism, and exhaustion with the horrible things he has seen throughout his life.

Which would very likely include being cagy even about his class, considering the whole "huppermage gencocide" thing that happened after Leorictus Sheran-Sharm.

The thing about Joris is that it is hard to appraise him from our own point of view. I had always liked how this franchise treats immortal characters, — they are beings with feelings, who make mistakes, who have issues.

But it does not make them any less incomprehensible.

In a way, he is so compelling to me, because I find his existence terrifying — Joris is someone who started out with all these ideas of kindness and justice, but can someone who is 600 years old really uphold them?

Judging from Waven, we know the answer to this question.

I think that with Joris's character, as well as Kerubim and Atcham, one of the major themes is stagnation.

While at times their immortality, and the freedom it provides, is referred to in a bit of an "optimistic nihilism" way,

Especially with the themes and motifs referenced in Aux Tresors de Kerubim, (especially with the ending directly referencing Diane Ardant's monologue,)

It's such a painful mixture of stagnation and endless freedom. There's a horror of never being able to escape, — not from having to experience the horrors of history, not from your own childhood house.

And then there's the horror of moving on from everyone you ever loved. While Kerubim and Joris share this one, I associate it more with Kerubim simply because he is so obsessed with the stories of his youth. It feels as if what was two hundred years ago is just yesterday, to him...

While with Atcham it's just speculation and my own headcanons, the sort of immortality, stagnation related horror I associate with him is dependency. He is not the same, strong person he used to be when he was alone. If he had to go back to Brakmar after all this time, he wouldn't be able to adjust. It's like all this time has declawed him.

Joris never really knew a life outside the all-consuming relationship he has with Kerubim and Atcham, but for Atcham it's different. And with every unchanging year that passes, he settles more and more into this peaceful existence, — and if he were torn away from it, just like Joris and Kerubim, he would not be able to function.

I think that the theoretical endpoint of where Kerubim, Joris, and Atcham could end up is whatever is going between Qilby and Shinonome.

Being one another's only meaning, in a world devoid of meaning, for better or for worse. Probably for worse.