#also correct me if i'm wrong about any of this it is once again past 4:30 am my eyes are struggling to stay open alksdfjk

[caelesjjk]

𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕕 - 𝕛𝕛𝕜&𝕜𝕥𝕙

⟶ title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 7.6k ⟶ warnings: Mnetions of blood and a wound, drinking, Jungkook calls you Data and Taehyung calls you Pigeon, infidelity-ish?? (you'll see), two smut scenes: oral (female and male receiving) mutiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex (thats a no, wrap it up) few different positions, making out, sweet kisses, nipple stuff ⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, its been such a long time. I apologize this took so long but it's finally here! I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of spidey!kook and venom!tae, they're truly my babies and I have loved writing them. This is only part one, I make no guarantees how quickly part two comes out, but I'll do my best I promise. I'm thinking probably four parts for this. enjoy! tell me all ur thots! Shoutout to M (@here2bbtstrash), Sav (@jeonjcngkook) and Kay (@tea4sykes) for looking this over and correcting my insanity and also assuring me that it's not terrible lol. Thank you all so much for your patience and help.

“So where is he?” your friend Penny says from across the table.

“He said he was coming.” You sigh, stirring your drink with the straw.

“He said that the last two times we were all supposed to study together.” Hoseok gives you a look that’s part sympathy and part annoyance.

“He’s working three part-time jobs. Not all of us have our parents paying for our apartments, Hobi.” You give him a playful glare and he returns it, followed by a poke of his tongue from between his lips.

Part of you wished you didn’t know Jungkook’s secret. That you could go back to the days where you were blissfully unaware of who he was. But back then, being stood up hurt even more because you didn’t know why.

Now you know. You know that Jungkook is Spider-Man. The infamous superhero  with powers he acquired from being bitten by a lab altered arachnid a few years ago.

He saved your life. Twice in fact. Both times it was because you were curious, too curious for your own good, and you had been suspecting something was going on with Jungkook. 

You followed him one night and watched in awe as he changed into his Spider-Man suit in an alleyway. And not just because he was Spider-Man, but because he was insanely gorgeous. You were hypnotized by the man who had been sitting next to you as your lab partner for most of the year. Who constantly hid his body beneath baggy clothes and bucket hats. 

You had always liked him a little more than you cared to admit. And after you found out the truth about him, your friendship grew into something more.

There weren’t any labels; you didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, much to your dismay. But Jungkook always told you that if the wrong person found out about the two of you, they could use you to get to him. And he needed to be able to focus on his whole saving the world gig, and not constantly worry about your safety. 

You understood. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.

You manage to study a bit longer with your friends before deciding you were far too distracted. You call Jungkook on your walk back to your apartment, but of course he doesn't  answer. 

So now you wait. And you worry.

No matter how hot the shower water is as it hits your back, it doesn’t stop the worry. You just want him to be safe, even if he pissed you off by not showing up again. 

You wrap yourself in your favorite silky robe and get comfortable on your bed with some of your homework you didn’t finish with your friends, slowly getting immersed in all of the calculations and formulas that you love so much. They were a great distraction.

Not sure how long you’ve been studying, you get up to stretch and make your way to your apartment balcony, opening the doors and stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. 

The city is always loud, but up here it isn’t so bad. The traffic sounds far away and the lights are just flickers across the skyline. You might even think it was beautiful if it wasn’t for the constant bad lurking around every corner. Or maybe you had just heard too many scary things from Jungkook.

Sighing when he pops into your head again, you turn around to head back inside only to come face to face with the superhero in question. Seeing him hanging there upside down from your doorway startles you just enough to send you stumbling backwards towards your balcony.

Before you can get too far, or even fully scream, Jungkook is shooting a web at your torso, pulling you back and into his arms as he flips down onto his feet. Your head swims from how quickly it happens.

“Data, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is slightly muffled through his mask. “It’s just me.”

“You scared me.” You look up at him as he removes his mask and shakes out his hair, eyes finally meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been…noisier.” Jungkook smiles and you almost forget that you’re angry with him. Almost.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing, it's  just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half-hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers. 

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are right in front of you, scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” he asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers really are something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you,” you whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off and sit them on the countertop before his hands come up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. It’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth. 

“What does it want?” 

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. No one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours. “But Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Kim Seokjin, more famously known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He was helping Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school. 

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” you tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?” 

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.” 

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it, but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull back, but his other wrist shoots a web at your torso; using his inhuman strength, he pulls you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the solid feeling of being on the ground disappears and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge as he swings you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek. “Just another minute.”

You keep your eyes clamped shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to peek just the slightest bit. You see the sun setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

You soak in the feeling of Jungkook holding you so tightly because you never know when the next time may be. You hate to sound so dramatic in thinking that way, but it really is a guessing game sometimes . Your hands loosen and slide up into his hair, making him look down into your eyes and smile when he sees how fondly you’re looking back at him.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, even though there isn’t a single soul that could hear you up here.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth and then the other before the softness of his lips has your eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is only gentle brushes of lips, noses grazing in the sweetest way you can imagine, all the while Jungkook is still effortlessly swinging you between buildings.

He shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down. You kiss him once more before you open your eyes and look out at the nearly complete sunset…a thousand feet in the air.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” He kisses you again before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building, taking note of all the intricate filigree and gargoyle statues.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” You melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.” 

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body hot and on edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

Your chest heaves at the idea of being completely helpless. He’s taken away your control and your ability to touch him as you please. 

He makes quick work of the sleep pants you had been wearing, tossing them away to join the gargoyles on the rooftop. 

“Jungkook…” you whimper when he lowers himself between your legs and lies down on his stomach so he can be face to face with your heat.

“Relax, okay? I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses a path down your thigh, sucking gently and caressing with his tongue.

You arch your back from the ledge when he pushes your panties to the side and his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy. Just a sweet kiss at first, then a deep, swirling lick to your clit. You pull against the webbing trapping you in place, fingers begging to be in his hair.

If only the citizens of his precious city could see him right now. Face buried and tongue lapping just for you. All of it for you and not for them.

You can feel tears start to form in your eyes from the way your orgasm is already so close to crashing over you. Jungkook has spent quite a bit of time getting to know your body and memorizing the things he knows that you like.

“Come on my tongue, baby. I’ve got you.” Jungkook soothes before his mouth is back to devouring you.

One particularly harsh suck to your clit while his fingers finally join in on the fun is what sends you over the edge, clenching around his digits in spasms.

You’re lucky that no one could possibly hear you all the way up here. The moans and groans that you both make while Jungkook licks up every bit of your arousal are beyond obscene.

“Please get this web off of me,” you huff between breaths. Jungkook slowly raises his head and with a smile on his shiny face, reaches up and effortlessly rips the webbing from your wrists. 

You jolt upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your hands into his soft hair. Your mouths mold together automatically, your tongue tasting yourself from his lips.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook finally asks, pulling you into his lap.

“As long as I continue to pretend we aren’t thousands of feet in the air, I enjoyed it very much.” You both smile and you lean in to kiss the corner of his pierced lip. “You can’t always distract me with your extremely talented mouth though. I just…want you to try and be in my life.” You push some hair off of his forehead before he kisses your lips once more.

“It won’t always be this crazy, Data. I promise. I just want to make sure I help Jin as much as I can with this monster.” 

“I know.” You want to tell him that you wish you came first. That there’s always going to be another monster keeping you apart. But that’s the price you pay for loving a superhero. 

“Let me take you home?” He stands up, still holding you in his arms.

“Maybe let me put my pants back on first?” You laugh as he sets you down to retrieve your pants from a gargoyle statue. 

And then you’re back in his arms and swinging back to reality.

The sun is still warm even though fall is almost in full swing. Leaves are starting to change colors and slowly drop off the trees. You love the smell of them as they dance by you on the breeze.

Something you don’t love is the damn pigeons that have made their home in the nooks and crannies of all the old buildings on campus. They fly down from their nests and make nuisances of themselves with the students, trying to get pieces of food.

You’ve been continuously shooing them away as you attempt to do your homework. 

Sitting in the courtyard on top of a patchwork blanket, you’re lost in the numbers and formulas that keep you best distracted these days. So much so that you almost don’t see Jungkook before his head is in your lap and his smiling face is looking up at you, pigeons scattering about from his sudden movements.

“Good afternoon, Data,” he says cutely. You set down your notebook and pen, leaning down to kiss him.

“How nice to see you at school for once,” you tease, pulling his bottom lip gently between your teeth.

“Mm, things have been quiet for a couple of days. I got some sleep…and I missed you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to lay down with him across the blanket.

“What are you doing?” You laugh and push against his chest.

“Making sure everyone sees me kissing you.” 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” You comb your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “If the wrong person sees?” 

Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours as his face scrunches in concentration. He abruptly sits up on his knees and you follow, looking around the courtyard.

“Something isn’t right.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet.

“What is it?” You continue to look around, seeing students walking to class or enjoying the sun in the courtyard like the two of you were.

Your eyes stop when you notice someone by the fountain taking photos with a professional type camera. His head of black messy hair is covered by a backwards black baseball hat. Long legs covered by snugly fit black jeans and his top half in a white button up, sleeves rolled halfway up in the most maddening way.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he’s suddenly looking right at you and you’re able to recognize who it is you’ve been drooling over. You feel embarrassment flood your face and body as you quickly look away, your heart racing in your chest.

Kim Taehyung. A photography student at your university. The best photography student if you remember correctly. You remember having a basic class with him your first year and he had seemed very nice. His smile was sweet, but the two of you didn’t talk to each other much at all. 

You did think he was absolutely stunning though, sometimes wishing you weren’t too shy to have spoken to him back then.

Your classes must have all been different after that, but you still see him around campus from time to time. Always taking pictures, but always alone. And last year he seemed to disappear altogether before reappearing when the new semester started.

When you get brave enough to look back up at him, you see he has his camera pointed at you, snapping pictures. You look away again so as not to alert Jungkook of what’s going on. Taehyung smiles when you look up out of the corner of your eye, before moving on to take pictures of something else. Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks, making you jump.

“I should be asking you that,” you manage to croak out.

“That weird sense of something being off is happening… I should go.” He starts to stand up and you grab his hand.

“What about this weekend? You’re still coming out with us right?”

He bends down and captures your lips in a quick but sweet kiss. “I promise I won’t miss it.” He gently nudges your forehead with his, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you watch him jog across the courtyard.

“Was that Jungkook?” Hoseok asks, sitting down across from you on the blanket.

“Um…yeah. He had to get to class,” you lie. Again. “Hey Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He stops grabbing books from his bag and looks up at you.

“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?” You nod towards the man with the camera, still taking pictures of some angel statues on the far side of the courtyard.

“He’s supposedly the best photography major at this school. He’s also…strange.” Hobi pretends to get a chill.

“Strange? Strange how?” You’re interest even more peaked than before.

“I don’t know, ____. I just heard some shit about him talking to himself all the time, and sometimes he comes to class all beat up.” Hobi brushes it off like it’s no big deal.

You don’t pester him any further, instead watching Taehyung as he takes a seat on a bench and starts scrolling through the pictures he’s taken on his camera. 

Maybe people are making things up about him because he’s different. People don’t like different for some reason. But you…you tend to be pulled towards the different. Or it tends to find you when you least expect it.

Saturday night has come and almost gone, and you’re still waiting for Jungkook to show up at Club Onyx to meet up with you and your friends. You’ve been waiting for hours and downing drinks the longer you go unanswered.

You’ve called and texted him over and over with no answer and are finally ready to just give up. Hobi gives you that pitiful look as you slam your phone face down onto the table.

“Fuck this, I’m getting another drink.” You don’t say it to anyone in particular and you don���t wait for anyone to answer before slipping into the crowd towards the bar.

“Can I get a Long Island please?” you ask the bartender when she approaches. You slouch down onto a barstool and see a familiar face on the other side of the bar.

Taehyung. Sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. The hat you usually see him wear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his curly black hair has been somewhat styled over his forehead. He’s still wearing a white button up, but he’s left the top buttons undone this time, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

“Here you go.” The bartender hands you your drink just in time for Taehyung to look up from his phone and see you already looking at him.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, taking your drink and making a break for the dance floor as quickly as you can. 

The song playing isn’t one that you know, but as you chug down your drink you start to care less and less about knowing the song and just let yourself go. You want to have a good time and not mope about Jungkook standing you up once again.

You let strangers grind against you as you move across the dance floor, arms raised above your head and your hips swaying to the beat of the song. You’re a little tipsy as you place your glass down on the nearest table, but not enough to not know what’s going on. 

A slower song starts to play with more of an r&b feeling. You watch as people start to pair off, the movements of their bodies making heat rush through you and settle on your cheeks and  neck. You start to turn back to find your friends when you feel an arm slide around your waist, making you jump from the suddenness of being touched.

“Easy there, Pigeon,” a voice as deep as the ocean and smoother than satin says against the shell of your ear.

You twist your neck almost too quickly, eyes landing on the face of Taehyung. Your breath nearly disappears completely seeing him this closely.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but you don’t try to move away from him. God, you should move away but you can’t.

“You need someone to dance with.” He smiles and says the words with a matter of fact tone.

“I should find my friends…” Your brain finally starts to catch up and you move from his hold.

“One dance, Pigeon. Would be a pity to waste such a good song.” 

“Why are you calling me Pigeon? I have a name.” You fold your arms over your chest.

“I know your name. But the pigeons at school seem to have really taken a liking to you, I couldn’t resist.” His boxy smile widens.

“You’re not being very convincing about this dance.” You try not to smile.

Taehyung puts his hand out asking silently one more time for you to dance with him. There’s that nagging feeling that you shouldn’t, but there’s a bigger part that says Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend, and he stood you up after he promised not to miss this night.

You take his hand.

Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulls you towards him, spinning you around at the last second to press your back against his front. You gasp when you immediately feel him lean over you and press his face into your neck, his nose skimming your skin.

His big but delicate hands find your stomach, slithering down until they reach your hips, slightly bunching your dress in his fingers.

He gently moves his hips and grinds against your ass in the most tantalizing way, reminding you that you did in fact agree to dance. Taehyung groans quietly in your ear when the pace of your hips becomes quicker with more added pressure from your ass into his crotch.

You let yourself relax against him, head falling back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck to him. His impatient mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he kisses a soft line across your skin.

“Can’t believe your boyfriend would leave you all alone out here where the monsters can find you.” Taehyung's deep voice vibrates through your body and settles into your core.

“I don’t have a boyfriend…or monsters.” The words come out sounding breathless as he continues to press your body closer to his.

“We think you do.” His long tongue traces the shell of your ear. 

We? You let it go because your brain is too foggy with lust to wonder what that could even mean right now.

“I don’t,” you repeat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook away for just a night. Taehyung laughs quietly, pulling your lobe between his teeth as his hands move up your chest to cup your breasts.

You don’t even care who sees the way he’s touching you right now. You’re becoming so turned on that you know your panties have to be absolutely ruined at this point.

“Come home with me.” He spins you around to face him just as the song ends, your eyes fluttering open as he cups your face in his hands.

“That…I can’t.” Your eyes search his, hoping it will make you realize that you need to walk away. Instead, there’s something that tells you you’re safe, but that you’re also in for a world of trouble. You don’t know how you know, you just do.

“I’ll make you feel so good, Pigeon.” His mouth is almost on yours, lips just brushing as he whispers. This man is fucking undeniable.

“Okay,.” you cave. You just want to feel wanted. You want to matter more than a stranger on the street. You want Taehyung to make you forget how much it hurts when Jungkook lets you down over and over again.

“Good girl.” His warm mouth slots with yours as he kisses you feverishly. Like he’s been starving for years and your mouth is his only source of sustenance. It’s hot, fiery, and all-consuming.

Not even sure when his lips leave yours, you’re suddenly being pulled by your hand towards the club exit. Your brain clears and you look around for Hobi or any of your other friends but you don’t see them. And honestly, you hope that they don’t. You hope they didn’t see what happened on the dance floor and you hope they don’t see you leaving with someone who isn’t Jungkook. That would be far too messy to have to explain.

“Did you drive here?” You squeeze Taehyung’s hand and he pulls you closer to him.

“I did. I didn’t even finish my drink, I promise I’m safe to drive.” He eases your mind as the two of you push out of the door and turn towards the parking lot.

But your mind is only at ease for a mere minute before you realize that Taehyung is leading you towards what appears to be a very, very fast motorcycle. Everything on it is jet black and ridiculously sexy. You wish you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“I’m not getting on that.” You stop in your tracks.

“Why not?” Taehyung grabs the helmet off the back and offers it to you. “I’ll even give you the helmet.”

“I just…that looks dangerous.” 

“It is.”

“Glad you’re honest,” you half-laugh.

“The bike is dangerous, but I would never let anything happen to you, Pigeon.” Taehyung swings one of his long legs over the motorcycle, straddling it as he waits for you to make a decision.

“We hardly know each other, Taehyung.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t keep you safe on my motorcycle, or that we have to know everything about each other to feel something.” He holds the helmet out again and you feel your mouth go dry at his words.

The danger aside, there is no going back if you get on that motorcycle with him. There is no way you would have an untainted conscience ever again. Every time you were with Jungkook from this day on, you would have to think about the fact that at this moment, you also wanted Kim Taehyung to fuck you.

That should terrify you more than it does.

You grab your phone and quickly open it to see no messages or missed calls from Jungkook. Your answer gets a little clearer as you reach out and take the helmet from his hand.

“Carefully,” Taehyung says, taking one of your hands and guiding you to straddle the motorcycle behind him. You settle the helmet onto your head, and Taehyung smiles widely when he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re ready. 

When he starts the motorcycle, the vibrations from the engine immediately flood your body. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as tightly as possible, and you wait once again for the world to go past you far too quickly. The same way it always does when Jungkook is swinging you between buildings.

When he pulls out of the parking lot, he doesn’t go too fast like you thought he would. He takes his time weaving between the cars and taxis, making his way through the busy streets and closer to the docks. 

You don’t entirely hate the motorcycle ride. Nor do you hate the way Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and holds them against his chest, or the way he brings your knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss against each one while he steers with the other hand. You don’t hate the way he sometimes moves that hand down to tap your thigh to let you know he’s about to make a sharp turn. You wish you hated the motorcycle ride.

Taehyung presses a button on his phone and a door on one of the warehouses starts to lift up. He pulls through it, parking the bike once inside. Your legs feel like jello when you take his hand to try and stand up, stumbling a bit in his hold.

“Okay there, Pigeon?” Taehyung grasps the sides of the helmet and helps you take it off. He sits it on the back of the bike before coming back to help you straighten out your helmet hair.

“It wasn’t terrible.” You smile and so does he, fire moving through your veins the longer your eyes stay locked with his. You quickly clear your throat. “So, you live in a warehouse?”

“I used to live in the city. It was just too…busy. I needed space.” He takes your hand and leads you towards some metal stairs. But before he does, you notice several more motorcycles parked inside the open part of the warehouse. Who is Kim Taehyung?

At the top of the stairs, it opens into a large open loft area that has a surprising feeling of comfort to it. There’s a kitchenette off to the right with just the necessities: a fridge, small table, stove and microwave.

The left side of the room appears to be the bedroom. A big messy bed sits against a headboard with intricate black vines carved into the wood. Soft pillows are haphazardly lying in all directions, some on the floor with their feathers scattered across the room. Taehyung visibly stiffens when he sees you notice them.

“Sorry about those…I think I might have a raccoon stuck in here somewhere.” He laughs and moves to kick the busted pillows under his bed.

Strange. He’s a little strange.

“Do you need something to drink?” he asks.

“Should I be worried about being here, Taehyung?” 

“What? No. No, I promise you’re safe.” He crosses the room and comes to stand in front of you, concern evident on his perfect face.

“I just…I don’t do things like this. I’ve never even had a one night stand.” You card a hand through your hair and Taehyung tips your chin up to look at him.

“Why does it need to be just one night?” His face softens and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“Taehyung…I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s barely a whisper.

His head tilts slightly to the side before it spasms slightly, an uncomfortable look painting his face as he shakes his head and gets the spasm under control. 

“Stop it.” Taehyung grits between his clenched teeth, mostly to himself.

“Are…are you okay?” Your worry grows by the second.

“Sorry…I’m sorry.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I’m not scared of you.” It isn’t a lie. You aren’t scared, but something is off. And you’re too stupid to leave. “Should I be scared?”

“Not of me.” He speaks as if someone else is in the room. 

His mouth finds yours again and lust takes the place of worry and concern. Taehyung easily grabs your thighs and lifts you off the ground as if you weigh nothing at all.

The next moments are a blur of clothing being stripped and bare skin coming in contact with hands and lips. Teeth scrape over nipples and long fingers drown themselves inside your dripping pussy. The warehouse echos with the sounds of your moans and his deep groans.

After your first thigh shaking orgasm, Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed and you kneel in front of him between his knees, taking his far too perfect cock into your mouth. You worship him with your tongue and make him come down your throat, his hands tightly gripping your hair.

Chills run through your sweaty body as he bends you over his bed and eases his cock inside you. Stars explode behind your eyelids while your fingers grip the bed sheets.

“He doesn’t fuck you enough, does he Pigeon? You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung’s fingers dig harshly into your hips as he mercilessly pounds you from behind.

You can only moan in response, the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to burst again. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes and stain the sheets you’re so desperately clinging to.

His fingers suddenly start to feel sharper, like they could pierce your skin at any moment, past the point of hurting in a good way.

“Stop,” Taehyung growls and the piercing feeling of his fingers starts to let up. If your brain wasn’t so fogged by your oncoming orgasm you may have questioned who the hell he was talking to.

“I’m so close,” you whine, feeling Taehyung press himself closer to you, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the mattress. The new angle  makes you feel him so deeply that even your stomach clenches and the dam finally breaks; you’re falling off the edge of the most shattering orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Taehyung’s hips stutter as you clench around him, making him moan deep in his chest. When you can no longer hold up your body, he grabs your shoulder and flips you onto your back, then immediately slides his cock back inside your overly sensitive pussy.

You’re so blissfully fucked that it takes you a moment to focus your eyesight on his face. Sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead as you lift your heavy arms and dig your fingers into his hair so you can pull his mouth down onto yours.

“I almost…I almost lost control. You feel so good.” His tongue swipes into your mouth as he angles himself to hit your g-spot with every hard thrust of his hips.

“Please come, Taehyung.” Your nails dig into his back and leave scratch marks across his skin.

“Never wanted anyone as much as I want you…fuck we want you so badly.” He buries his face into your neck as he thrusts once, twice more before you feel him spill inside of you. Hips bruisingly tight against yours as his cock twitches each time more cum fills you up.

“Holy shit.” You move your hands back to his hair and gently lift up to see his face. You swear when he looks at you that all the color has drained from his eyes. They’re solid white.

You gasp and blink once, seeing Taehyung’s pretty brown eyes looking back at you in less than a second.

“Wh-what was that?” You’re still panting.

“What was what, Pigeon?” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out and walks to his bathroom, giving you a chance to ogle his perfect little ass and the muscles of his back.

“I just…thought I saw something,” you say when he returns to the bed with a cloth for you to clean up with. You really need to get more sleep if you’re starting to see things.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung’s face is suddenly a lot more serious when he reaches out to run his fingers over the apple of your cheek.

You remember the way his hands felt on your hips. How they could’ve been on the verge of piercing through your skin. At least, that’s what you thought when it was happening.

Looking down at your hips, there’s obvious red marks from fingertips, but also scratch marks that just don’t seem like they could’ve come from Taehyung’s short cut nails. What the hell?

“I um…I think I’m okay.” You pull the covers up over your hips a little, hoping he won’t see.

“You should sleep here. I can take you home in the morning, I’m just too sleepy right now.” He pouts his mouth a little and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side.

“Okay.” You’re admittedly too spent to call an Uber or argue with him about taking you home tonight. You just need to sleep. Sleep will fix everything. Tomorrow you will wake up and not feel like you’re losing your entire mind.

“…don’t ever fucking do that again…” You hear part of a conversation in your half asleep state. “I swear if you would have hurt her…”

Who the hell is Taehyung talking to in the middle of the night?

“She’s with the spider….liability.” A deep inhuman voice fills the empty air. Your eyes shoot open wide and every nerve is suddenly completely wired.

Are they…are they talking about Jungkook?

“She’s not. She said she’s not,” Taehyung’s voice answers, stress evident in his words.

“We should eat her now…” 

“No! You’ll have to kill me if you think you’re ever touching her. And we both know you can’t do that,” Taehyung yells.

You wrap the thin sheet around your naked body and slowly move towards the railing that overlooks the open part of the warehouse downstairs. You stay back far enough so not to alert anyone of your presence.

Looking down, you see Taehyung sitting at a table with his back towards you, wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

And that’s when it seems like the shadows around him start to move and your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Because not only do they move, but they have a face. A terrifying face that is seeping from the back of Taehyung’s neck and moving around him …as it talks.

“You’re weak for her,” the monster growls deeply, its huge teeth and unnaturally long tongue becoming more apparent as it moves into the light.

“We had a deal.” Taehyung seethes. “I’m literally the only person you haven’t killed when you bonded with them. You need me to get your symbiote friends home and I need you to take down that fucking lab.”

You can barely believe what you’re seeing or hearing. Is this the monster Jungkook was talking about? The one breaking into the lab across the river?

“Aren’t we friends?” The monster asks in a condescending way.

“Not if you hurt ____. She has no idea what she’s in the middle of and it should stay that way.” Taehyung holds his arms out straight and the monster starts to wrap its moving pitch black skin around him…its skin becoming his.

You’re so startled by the sight in front of you that you stumble back, knocking over an end table full of magazines and books. Fuck.

“Shit,” you hear Taehyung say before the monster has completely consumed him. What stands in his place is something you will never forget for the rest of your life.

The monster must be at least 8 feet tall, huge bulking muscles made of that inhuman black skin that constantly appears to be moving. Its  huge white eyes land right on you immediately, its  mouth and teeth pulling into a wicked smile as it jumps into the air and clears the railing in a single leap. You scream as the ground crunches beneath its feet when it lands in front of you.

The monster looms over you and all the breath in your lungs disappears.

“What…what are you?” you croak, fear freezing you in place.

“We…are Venom.”

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies

series masterlist | main masterlist | Part Two

[trashfangirlsworld]

Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.

they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.

we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.

the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.

quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.

quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.

At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.

[allysunny]

Oooh can you do 22 and M for Miggy? 🥺

I love soft husband Miggy

"We're not meant for each other” / “I don’t care, I love you” + Domestic Bliss x Miguel O’Hara

Words: 3.6k words

Warnings: Suggestive themes, a small twinge of angst (if you squint), a small mention of blood, overall just happy domestic Miggy! Also some unstranslated spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong), not proofread. And do tell if I missed anything!

A/N: Here it is!!! The domestic Miggy from my 200 Followers Event! I love this man so much and he deserves the absolute best, I had such a blast writing it.

I'm sorry for the delay, but uni has just started once again, and, well, now I get a bit busier. Hopefully I'll be able to manage everything, seeing as I really enjoy writing, it's a bit of an escape for me. I'll try to remain consistent!

Anyways, here it is! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Peaceful Saturday mornings were hard to come by.

Usually, Miguel was up at the crack of dawn, kissing your forehead and whispering about how he’d come back as soon as he was done with whatever needed taking care of back in Spider Society. You’d whine and plead for him to stay, and he’d promise to return in a heartbeat. Most of the time, he wasn’t home in a heartbeat, and you moped around for a few minutes before going on about with your day.

But not today.

No, today, you’d gotten the blessing of feeling the warmth of his chest press against your back, and his arm curling into you to bring you closer to him. Of feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his palm was steady on your bare stomach. It was nice.

You closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, tried to prolong that feeling of peace and quiet for a bit longer, but Miguel had some different ideas.

“No, no, no, cariño, can’t go back to sleep now, I know you’re awake,” he mumbled, lips brushing the shell of your ear. The raspiness of his voice made your whole body shiver, and you pressed yourself harder against him.

“Shhhh, don’t speak.” You whispered as a response, which earned him a chuckle. His chest reverberated and he held you tighter, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Just five more minutes. Please, can’t have you leave yet.”

“But darling,” he murmured, “I’m not leaving.”

It was enough for you to roll yourself over, nearly hitting him on the nose with the back of your skull. Miguel laughed at your eagerness, and his smile only widened. Your happiness made him happy. And he was aware of how he had been neglecting you these past few months.

And being a man who had already lost so much in life, he wasn’t going to take you and your marriage for granted. There was a reason he’d been working himself to the bone the last week, coming home far too late and leaving at the crack of dawn. It was exhausting, yes, and while you understood the things he had to do as Spider-Man (an occupation that was surely no easy feat), he could see the way your shoulders sagged whenever you kissed him goodbye in the morning, or he mumbled into your shoulder something sort of “I’m sorry, I need to get up”.

“You aren’t?” you asked, cupping his face with your hands, the planes of his cheekbones fitting perfectly in between your palms. You’d always thought Miguel was perfect for you – you two fit together like two puzzle pieces. Whenever you cooked dinner and he hugged you from behind, kissing the top of your head and watching you as you stirred and seasoned, whenever you cuddled on the couch, his body draped over his as you drooled on his arms and he zapped through channels to see if he could find some interesting documentary while you slept, when you clung onto him desperately as he lowered himself onto you, legs tightly wrapped around his back and face hidden in the crook of his neck. You were perfect together. That much was clear.

Miguel made a soft noise of agreement, and you all but jumped on top of him, peppering his face with kisses. He laughed, a true laugh that came from his chest and made you feel like you were in cloud nine, and loosely wrapped his arms around you, content to have you close.

“You’re not joking? You’re staying home for the day?” you mumbled against his neck, pushing yourself up to look into his chocolate brown eyes.

“And tomorrow as well. And hopefully, Monday too. You’ve got the day off, right?”

You squealed in delight and threw your arms around his neck (or did so as best as you could) and kissed him repeatedly, proclaiming your love for him as you did so. Miguel smiled, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch and placed a soft kiss on his palm. Miguel’s heart melted, and then he slowly traced his face with his fingers. How come you were able to fill his heart with such love, such joy and happiness with a gesture as simple as a kiss?

Qué àngel perfecto.

But Miguel knew you. Truly knew you. And he should also know better than to expect you to be his perfect little angel.

When his thumb softly grazed your bottom lip, you took it inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger, and innocently looking at him through your lashes. He furrowed his eyebrows and you only smiled, releasing it with a soft “pop”.

Having earned no reaction from him, you frowned.

“I’m sorry. Was that disgusting? I won’t do it aga – “

In one swift motion, you were below Miguel, his toned arms and legs trapping you underneath him. His gaze held something you could only describe as pure, sheer, raw desire, and he lazily let his eyes wonder over the planes of your body. You were wearing a flimsy silk nightgown, a nightgown that, due to his sudden movements, was all bunched up at your waist, exposing your lovely legs to him.

Miguel started trailing kisses from your neck to your chest, earning a few noises he would sell his soul to hear over and over again. The sound of you was enough to spur him on, and soon enough, you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. With soft kisses, he made his way down your body, where took your legs, and, spreading them, pressed a kiss on your knee.

It was such an intimate action; it made your insides flare up. You loved Miguel – all of him. And you were familiar with all sides of him. You knew him when he was happy and giddy, spinning you around in his arms and playfully kissing your nose. You knew him tired and sleepy, mumbling sweet nothing in the crook of your neck and falling asleep on your lap. You knew him stressed and hot-headed, begging you to let him blow off some steam by kissing your breath away and making you cry out in pleasure.

But one of the sides you favoured the most was this one. The one where he was sweet and gentle, the one where his eyes expressed only the utmost desire and adoration for you, the one where his kisses meant a thousand words and made your heart swell and swell until you were sure it was going to burst with love.

“What’s on your mind, hermosa?” He asked, voice laced with sleep.

“Just thinking.”

“Ah. Nothing good can ever come from that.”

Miguel pretended to be hurt from the pillow you threw at his head, and his grin widened.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Just how much I love you.” You replied casually, as if it was something as obvious as saying the sky was blue. Which to you, it was. To you, loving Miguel O’Hara and admitting it were as easy as admitting the sky was blue.

“Hm.” Was his hummed reply against the inside of your thigh. You felt his lips brush against your skin and the contact made you shiver.

“How happy I am to have you in my life. How lucky.”  

 “Cariño,” he whispered, coming down once again to brush his lips against yours – a silent promise of what was to come. “I’m the lucky one.”

After that, his lips were on yours, your hands were on his hair, and he was coaching out of you the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, making up for all the lonely nights and cold mornings away from you.

What a way to spend a morning, indeed.

After you two had showered and put on some fresh clothes, he allowed you to pick whatever activities you’d do for the day. He had 3 days to lavish you in affection and catch up for all those weeks, and the first thing he was going to do was let you have full control.

And to his surprise, your request was food. But not just any kind of food.

A brunch.

And if you wanted to make brunch, damn him if he wouldn’t join you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, looking up cool pictures that you could recreate from the comfort of your home.

You’d settled on pancakes, toasts, and some cinnamon rolls. While you prepared the batter for each of the items respectfully, Miguel got started on the fruit, cutting them into small pieces, squeezing some oranges for some juice, as well as frying some eggs and bacon.

It was perfect. Music echoed through the kitchen; your favourite playlist having been chosen as the soundtrack for this sweet moment. You and Miguel moved in synch around the kitchen, moving effortlessly around each other, yet still being able to steal in some kisses here and there.

He placed a few in your head while you mixed the pancake batter, and you’d tasted some blueberries off his lips, followed by strawberries, apples, and peaches.

“Stop sampling the fruit,” you’d whispered against his lips, to what he simply laughed.

“Stop kissing me every time I do so, and I will.”

You chuckled and went back to your tasks.

“Mhmmm – that bacon is smelling so good,” you said after a while, glancing at him and his frying pan.

“Is that code for Miguel, please give let me steal some?” Miguel asked with a quirked brow, and you feigned shock.

“Miguel O’Hara! How dare you think the only reason I would compliment your bacon mid-cooking is to steal a piece!” You took a hand to your heart and dramatically turned your face away.

“Not at all. I always love it when you compliment my bacon.”

It took a while for the joke to truly get a reaction out of you, and after a few seconds of silence, you burst into laughter, the flower bowl in your hands dropping on top of the kitchen counter. You grabbed some of the powder and threw it at Miguel’s face, shaking your head.

“That was disgusting – you’re disgusting! Ew!”

Miguel only laughed and did the same, leaning over to spray some of the flour from your bowl on your face.

“Disgusting? I recall you being very eager to get a taste of my bacon earlier this morning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Oh my God! Shut up! Ew! Never say that again!”

Although your words did not express anything other than sheer horror, your mouth was forming a huge smile, and you were giggling in between words.

“And now I’m all dirty!”

“You started it, mi vida.”

“Yeah, because you made a disgusting –“

“Truthful.”

“ – Disgusting comment!”

“Next time don’t be so eager to get a taste of my bacon, and I won’t have the need to make such comments.”

“You’re disgusting and I’m never talking to you again.” These words were uttered in between fits of laughter, and Miguel himself leaned forward, chuckling. The lovely sounds of your joy resonated through the kitchen and Miguel was happy that his house had such a pleasant symphony gracing it.

“Can you pass me some of the salt?” you asked him, reaching out with your arm towards his body.

Miguel nodded and quickly held the small saltshaker. Just as he was about to give it to you, the bacon before him crackled, sending a bit of grease flying onto his arm.

The contact made him shriek, the suddenly hot liquid scalding his skin.

Instinctively, his talons came out, causing him to scratch the surface of your counter, and you.

“¡Mierda!” he shrieked, pulling his arm away from the stove. Unfortunately, his talon also pushed the frying pan with him, and it fell on the floor, ruining all of the bacon that was currently cooking.

“Miguel! Oh, fuck, are you okay?” You asked, quickly turning away from what you were doing. The scratch in your arm wasn’t important – you could tell with that later, even if the pain seemed to be pulsing in your arm.

“Don’t – don’t come closer, I’ll hurt you,” he muttered, quickly retracting his talons, and looking at the mess on the floor.

“No – it’s fine, just tell me if you’re okay,” you repeated, kneeling to catch the frying pan off the floor and clean the area with a cloth.

“[Y/N], I said don’t come closer.” He looked at you, and that’s when he stared at your arm, at the red line that marked it all the way from your shoulder to your wrist. Miguel’s eyes widened and he searched in your face for any kind of pain, of discomfort. All he saw was worry that you expressed for him. “Fuck – I’m sorry mi vida, I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“What? No – No Miguel, it’s fine, I can barely feel it.”

“You’re bleeding.” He said, not sure whether to approach you or walk away, scared he was going to hurt you further.

“It’s fine, Miguel, really, it’s just a scratch and it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“So it does hurt.” He spit the words out as if they were venomous; he was disgusted with himself, disgusted he could bring himself to ever hurt you.

You, however, saw right through him and his internal struggle.

“It wasn’t on purpose. Miguel, it’s fine.” You took tentative steps towards him, hoping he wouldn’t back away from you. He didn’t. Although he did seem to flinch a bit when you touched him, not yet trusting his body. “I’m serious. It’s just a scratch.”

“What if some day it isn’t just a scratch anymore?” he mumbled, looking away, refusing to meet your eye after he’d done something as vile as to hurt you like this. He’d sworn to never cause you any pain and look at what he’d done. Brunch was ruined, and you were in pain. “What if, some day, I really hurt you?”

“I know such a day will never come,” you replied, holding his face in your hands just like you’d done earlier that morning, not caring if they were full of flour. The sentiment you felt was the same. Sheer, pure love for the man standing before you.

“How can you be so sure? I’m a monster.”

“I’m sure because I know you love me. You’re a good man. You’d never hurt me. You’ll never hurt me.” The words are soft and gentle, meant to soothe him and all the doubt that clears his mind. But you know it’ll take a bit more than that to coax him out of his dark spot he carved for himself.

“I hurt you just now.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“And yet I still hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t want to, so it doesn’t count. It was an accident. What about when I step on your feet when we’re dancing? Do you hold it against me because I have hurt you?”

Miguel shook his head with an indignant expression. How could you even compare the two?

“That’s different,” Miguel expressed, “You don’t mean it. It’s an accident.”

“Okay, but what about that time we both reached out to catch the TV remote and I headbutted you?”

“Well, that was not on purpose.”

“There’s also that time I slapped you last week.”

“You were trying to kill a fly! Not hurt me.”

A soft smile graced your lips, and you forced him to meet your gaze.

“Exactly, Miguel. They were all accidents. I didn’t mean to hurt you just as you have never meant to hurt me.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly. He kissed you back hesitantly, and you pressed yourself harder against him. You wouldn’t allow the man you loved to fear touching you, loving you.

“Just look at me, [Y/N]. I’m a terrible creature. A monster. We’re not meant for each other.”

“I don’t care, I love you.” You replied, without missing a beat. “You’re not a terrible creature, nor a monster. You’re Miguel O’Hara, the love of my life, my husband, the man I love the most and want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t care if we’re not meant for each other – we’ve faced so much and come so far. If anything, we’ve proven more than once that we are meant to be together.” Your voice was clear, and it was full of determination and love. You saw Miguel worthy of so much – why couldn’t he see it?

He sighed, and his gaze softened, as it often did when regarding you. Moving slowly, he rested his forehead against yours, arms coming around you to wrap you in a warm embrace.

“Te quiero un chorro. Eres el amor de mi vida, y te lo seguiré diciendo hasta el fin de los tiempos. No merezco tenerte.” He whispered.

“Stop that – of course you deserve me. All of me. Just as much as I deserve you. With your fluffy hair, and your terrible jokes and your bacon.” This seemed to get a laugh out of him, even if small. “I love you, Miguel. And we’re meant to be together. Forever and ever and ever, even when we’re old and grey and I’m deaf from listening to your terrible jokes.”

“You love my jokes,” he shrugged with a small smile. Good. He was smiling.

“Almost as much as I love you.”

Miguel bent down, picking you up effortlessly and crashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back, humming happily. He muttered some loving words against your skin and you smiled before he put you down, pecking you one last time.

“Now, can we go back to making ourselves some nice brunch?” You asked, untangling your arms from around him.

“Yes. And so much for me being disgusting – my face is now full of flour,” he told you, raising an eyebrow and pretending to be angry with you (something he could never, ever be).

“It was full of flour before, I don’t know what’s the difference.” You laughed, and he laughed along.

The kitchen was once more filled with the right sounds. Laughing, chattering, and soft music playing in the air.

After a while, all the cooking seemed done.

Plenty of pancakes sat atop a plate, with a bottle of honey and a small bowl of blueberries and other small fruits inside. Cheese and ham toasts were also served, along with a plethora of different jams and other snacks that included eggs, bacon, cookies and even some smoked salmon.

The meal was eaten contentedly. Your hard work had surely paid off, and you busied yourself telling funny anecdotes and stories from each of your workplaces while you ate. Miguel confided in you that some of Miles Morales’s ideas were actually good, and that Spider-Punk Hobie Brown had made him chuckle once or twice. You’d met them both before and thought they were simply delightful, having unofficially adopted them and looking over them a few times, by cooking them meals and checking up on them.

You told him about all sorts of funny antics your coworkers did at work, nearly making him spit out his drink when you told him what your work best friend had sent your boss, thinking it was a personal email to you.

The food was fantastic, the music sounded lovely, and the company was all you could’ve asked for. When you two were done, you put the dishes in the dishwasher, making it your own Tetris game, and falling on the couch after it was done.

The rest of the day was spent in peace.

You watched a couple of movies you’d been meaning to watch together for a while, with you and your husband trying to catch as many popcorns with your mouth as possible, read a few books sitting outside in the balcony, making the most out of the sun’s warm light, and just hanging out. That’s something you could never get tired of – just hanging out with your husband.

You didn’t always have to be doing an activity. You didn’t have to be cooking dinner, watching movies, or cuddling. Sure, doing those was fantastic. You’d done them all and enjoyed your time with him. But just being around him was enough sometimes. Knowing that he was right there, next to you, instead of inside that dreadfully dark lab of his was enough to make you smile.

“I love you,” he told you as the sun began to set, lifting his eyes from his book to stare at you, who were engrossed in your latest hobby.

“I love you too,” you replied, giving him a sweet smile.

Your gaze turned back to whatever you were doing, but Miguel’s never left yours. He watched as the last sunrays shone on your features, making your skin shine with an ethereal glow. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and how your lips parted softly to smile once you were happy with what you were doing.

You were too good for him, and he still thought there was no way he deserved you.

You were a goddess among man, and he, just lucky enough to be in your graces. Maybe he’d done something right in a past life – because as he watched you, bathed in sun and warmth, and recalled his marvellous day spent by your side, he was sure there was no way in hell you weren’t a gift from the heavens above.

Beautiful and kind and caring, and all his.

You were a vision, and he was so damn lucky to be able to just look at you in all your glory.

Yeah, Miguel thought, he really ought to stay home with you more often.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed it! I really like writing for Miguel, he deserves a big hug and a big smooch. I'm such a simp for him omg...

Have an amazing day ahead, everyone! <3

[firegirl888101]

how would the harbingers react to a reader who's good at drawing? like, they like to draw the harbingers or other things

Good at drawing?

I'm shit at drawing so I'm not really sure what to say, that's why I didn't reply to this for awhile. But, I eventually got a couple things when my friend was sketching some stuff in front of me.

Sorry that the current Insatiable Madness chapter is taking so long, I've been studying a lot these past couple of days.

I also got another ask where it asked about Halloween. I don't really celebrate Halloween, because I never grew up with it. I've always been too shy to trick-or-treat and I didn't have many friends (and still don't) who'd want to go with me. Quite sad actually, but it's alright. I don't think I missed out on much.

Is anyone expecting me to make a Halloween special? I don't mind doing it, but I'll need inspiration as I wouldn't know where to start 💀

Actually, the more I think about it, I do have one fun idea. (Harbingers going trick-or-treating??? Halloween party if that even exists? Idk, I'll have to do some research.)

|You can take this with Yandere and without - some will probably lean towards yan though.|

So, to begin with:

Pierro wouldn't be too bothered. I feel if Y/N had a skill they were confident in, and wanted to show it, he'd let his curiousity get the better of him and check it out. But, if it's something like drawing he'll probably leave a comment then leave. Whether it's positive or negative, you be the judge. This man is like a slate slab. No personality I'm sorry 😭😭 (When I see more of his character, maybe I'll like him more?)

If you were to draw this man, he'd be humbled. A Grandpa who received his very first present from his grandchild. Would definitely frame the damn thing in his office (which originally was your parent's) he'd put it on the desk. It's his office now, don't argue for it back.

Capitano would show interest. Not too much since he's the main captain of the Fatui, but still interested. If he's bored, or deems the 'fort' (the house) safe, he'll sit down with you and watch what you're doing. Occasionally asking you if he could doodle with you - but I think that would be very rare. His main objective in his mind is guarding you when your own is low whilst you're having fun, doodling or drawing something.

Would 100% deny the picture of him at first. He'd think, that looks like me, but it can't be. Yes, it's him, you'd reassure. Eventually he does take it and folds it in his coat. After that, he'd probably leave the room in embarrassment. Since then on, he'd definitely keep all drawings you've made of him in his pocket. There's too many? Let's put it in the second pocket. That's full too? Looks like he's buying a new coat. Oh? There's room in his military coat he hasn't worn in two years? That'll do just nicely.

Dottore would be intrigued if he saw you practice anatomy - or if you drew more of a gorey scene. I think he'd be even more interested if you liked to draw the human body with extra things (such as arms, legs, eyes or even got rid of a few), and question you on your design choices and if it already exists somewhere. (He's not fooling you, he's obviously taking inspirations for a new experiment). If he didn't know, or wasn't good, he'd probably ask for tips on how to sketch ideas like yours. He reassures you it's not for any experimentation but once again, he's not fooling you at all.

If you were to draw him he'd treat it like glass. Nobody has ever given him a sketch before - bonus points if you draw him injured whilst you're angry with him. He'd treat it as if you drew him with love, and not as if you'd stab him in the heart if you ever got the chance. What do you mean he shouldn't like it this much? It's a work of art! He'd be very quick to correct the drawing if you got anything wrong. Who knows what this man has in his body at this point.

Columbina would join you in your drawing activities. Maybe add some glitter if you have any. The second you complain about cleaning up, however, she has somehow disappeared and has become very forgetful about the events upstairs. 'How curious!~' She would hum to herself with her usual smile. Is definitely the type to ask if you could draw her. Who are you to refuse? Especially when she gives you that look of daunt hope and kindness which makes you drop your pen in fear. Before you can give her an answer, you've already picked up your pencil and began to sketch her beautiful headpiece.

When Columbina receives her multiple sketches, she's overjoyed. Oh, look how you drew this part! How you drew her clothes! She's quick to kiss you on the cheek as a thank you and runs off somewhere. Huh, you feel like you've just been used.

Arlecchino will roll her eyes at first. She's seen many children in the hearth draw for her. Her initial thoughts were vague, she didn't really see much of your hobby. That was until she actually saw what you were drawing. She would stare as you worked, your pencil delicately brushing against the paper you most likely bought the other day. It soon will become a habit to watch you work, becoming a therapeutic source for her. She sometimes questions why you're drawing... certain things, but she wouldn't actually stop your creative mind from working.

Handing Arlecchino the drawing you drew of her would make her blood rise to her cheeks slightly. Sure, she's received a lot of gifts in this sense before. But from you? What an honour! She'll accept it with a soft smile she'd usually show the kids, and pat your head treating you like one. Little do you know she's trying so hard to control her cute agression response by not tearing the paper.

Pulcinella would react very similarly to Pierro. However, he'd have more experience with complimenting and encouraging 'a child' in a hobby they're having fun with. If he saw your skill, he'd probably compliment it whole-heartedly with a chuffed smile. Massaging his mustache like some aristocrat, in the 1940s... Anyway, he'd be very pleased when he watches you draw more and more. He's happy that you're spending your time doing something you like under the tense situation his coworkers (and him, but he doesn't like to admit it) have brought upon you.

I do not see you drawing this man at all. He's a short, dobby, old, looking as man. I don't see him as the type to ask either, at all. He's minding his own business in your house and plans to keep it that way until the situation is resolved.

Scaramouche really doesn't care. We've all got our own likes and dislikes, but he's not bothered about yours. Will most likely purposefully pass by you working on a piece and insult it just to get attention. He'd never actually mean it though - he just never tells you that important fact. As time progresses he'll sneak into your room just to look at more sketches or finished drawings you've done, and assess your progress from each year if you've been practicing for a long time-period.

Now, here's where things get interesting. If you were to draw him and never show it to him, said puppet finding it for himself in one of your drawers, he'd first feel angry. Why wouldn't you show him this? It's of him! ...But then he'd quickly realise it's because of the way he treated you when you were working (oops). If you actually handed it to him and let him keep it, he'd be delighted. You actually drew him? He didn't even have to manipu-- he means 'ask' you to draw him? This is a good step forward to where he wants to be in your heart.

Sandrone would be delighted to know that she's finally found a use for you in her head. She never thought that purposefully walking past you one evening would lead to her shuffling through all the sketches and designs you've done with awe. Where did you get this idea from? How can she recreate it? Would you be happier and more devoted to her if she were to make your dreams true? She digresses. Watching your creative little mind draw your ideas to life inspires her also, and makes her want to recruit you as a special exception to the 'no non-artificial beings' allowed in her workshop. Thinking of all the monstrosities you could design with her help sends pleasurable shivers up her spine.

Drawing her, however? This was rather unprecedented. Out of all the things-- no, people you could have drawn... and you decide on her? And ooh! You even drew her slave she likes to travel around on, how thoughtful, you're already expressing your adoration for her works! Trust me, don't draw her. You'll give her daydreams that will never happen.

Signora, like most of the harbingers, wouldn't care at first. She hates your house and hates your world, why in Teyvat's name would she be interested in what you're doing? That's what she used to think, until her arrogant slick eyes caught sight of what exactly you were drawing. In my opinion, there's only a couple things that would interest Signora. Drawing dresses, if you were interested in fashion designing, would definitely be the main one. Viewing your designs after you finished them would soon become a small hobby for her, and soon, she'd eventually ask you to draw her in one of your designs.

You'd say yes, of course. An excuse to draw a drop-dead gorgeous woman in one of your designs for free? No way you were going to pass this opportunity! For her hard work in modeling, you'd definitely pay back twice and give her a drawing of her in her harbinger uniform too - which I think would flatter her a bit too much.

Pantalone wouldn't care, and would never become interested. He's a very rich and successful banker, not any ordinary man. As soon as he sees you drawing somewhere in the house, he'll shrug and go the opposite way. He knows what it's like to be interrupted through a thoughtful process, and he doesn't feel like getting an earful from you if he interrupts it. What he does think about, however, is if you're making money from it. Maybe an online business. He asks, and receives a very disappointing answer. No? What do you mean no? These are good, he'd pay for a portrait! Well, if Mora was a usable currency here. Ugh, the thought of being a poor man in this world makes him disgusted.

Drawing him would result in lots of praise. He'd be very happy you used your own time to draw him. He didn't even have to pay for it, it was gift! You even said so yourself. Immediately taken from your hands and framed somewhere. You can't seem to find the drawing though... Pantalone insists it's still in the house, but no matter where you look you just can't find it! Oh well, it's probably better you didn't know where it went. (You would have never been able to find it, he hid the location so well after all.) Pantalone told you he'd give something back to you as a thank you, but you're not holding him to his word.

Tartaglia would be interested the second he sees you doing something he hasn't seen you do before. That looks interesting, let him give drawing a try! He'd boast how his siblings love his drawings he creates, but you knew he was lying to set a cheery mood. Your understanding was backed when you actually saw his 'Amazing Drawing'... It was embarrassing to say the least. He would heed all your little tips and eventually get good at drawing from your guidance! I can see him as the type to use these skills later for his siblings, and as the type to continue drawing even if you begin to get bored of it... He's skilled with his fingers after all-- okay I'm sorry I'm done.

Drawing him can go one in two ways. I see him as someone who will whine about being drawn. He'll say: 'Have you drawn me yet?' in one of the most annoying voices he cna muster. He knows and understands you find it annoying when he asks you to draw him, so he's found a loophole. Just keep asking questions related to it until you get the hint! ...You got the hint weeks ago, but you're refusing to do it. Well, you're refusing to show him your drawings you've already finished and hid out of sight. Showing him these drawings would make him really happy! Would fold his favourite and carry it around with him everywhere like some of the other harbingers. His next commission he's planned to ask you is of a drawing of Capitano. You eagerly declined, not wishing to impose on the Captain's privacy.

[roo-bastmoon]

Thoughts on 3D

So Jungkook's collab with Jack Harlow is out. It is catchy; it will go viral. I have purchased it; I will add it to my new releases playlists--same as I do for all our boys.

But while the dancing was cool and JK's parts are okay (I'm not thrilled that the word "girl" is used literally 20 times, but I get what the western music industry is), I was--I need to be honest here--really taken aback and unhappy with how misogynistic Jack Harlow's rap lyrics were. As far as I'm concerned, he's absolutely unnecessary, and I'll be supporting the alternate version with a lot more enthusiasm.

A deeper look at the lyrics and more of my thoughts are under the cut if you're interested (but by clicking, you're agreeing to keep it respectful in the comments or you'll get banned.)

All my ABG's get cute for me I had one girl (One girl), too boring Two girls (Two girls), that was cool for me Three girls, damn, dude's horny Four girls, okay now you whorin' (Hey, hey, hey) Hey, I'm loose I done put these shrooms to good use

Setting young women up in a line and talking about how sleeping with just one is too boring but sleeping with four is whorish? Yeah, miss me with it.

Then there's this:

You won't regret me (You won't regret me) Champagne confetti (Champagne confetti) I wanna see it In motion In 3D (Show it to me, girl, now, why?)

I was given to understand that "ABG" stands for "Asian Baby Girl" and refers to an Asian party girl who likes clubbing, wearing excessive makeup and tattoos, and revealing clothes, etc.

I also learned from Urban Dictionary—which can be an unreliable site with outdated or incorrect information—that "champagne" has referred to underage girls in the past and "confetti" or nowadays “champagne confetti” refers to orgasm, or sometimes when a group of men or women surround someone, masturbate, and then ejaculate on them.

Not even going to get into the shrooms thing. I'm not in a hyper conservative country with harsh punishments for those type of drugs so... I was a bit taken aback about a song about being fucked right, and now there's lyrics about what amounts to harem girls.

*sigh* Do you know how much I hope I'm reading into things incorrectly? Please correct me if I'm misunderstanding the innuendo, but this is what urban dictionary says. I'm 44 and live in a cave. Maybe I'm wrong.

But in any case, the vibe of Jack's parts in the video was not coming off respectful.

I don't care how many other rap songs objectify and insult women--I won't get behind any content that does. And don't even try to gaslight me or other ARMY into saying we should like this because it's comparatively worse in other rap songs. Don't try to suppress any discourse about it, either--let women discuss how they feel about how they are represented. Don't police women. Don't silence women.

BTS' rap music got so much better once they incorporated feminist feedback, so I'm used to a higher standard and I won't be lowering those standards for anyone. I have no hang ups about sex, but please miss. me. with. misogynistic. bullshit.

Then again, it seems some of the rap hyungs were on board with this.

So I guess industry pros have a different take on stuff like this!

*shrug*

Okay, we have established that I really don't like Jack Harlow's contributions to this song. Which means I'll support the alternative. Thank goodness they had the foresight to provide an alternative!

Now I can work for JK's charts in a way that doesn't aggravate my conscience. All good. Enough said on 3D.

Personally? I really hope JJK1 showcases JK's range of genres, but also has a range of topics besides pursuing girls or being cool.

I just can't vibe with a fuckboy persona; I never liked Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake for that very reason, even if some of their songs sound fine. Now, if Jungkook really admires their style and wants to pursue it, I'm not going to rag on him for it. Of course not. It's his choice and I can respect people's choices without making the same choices myself.

I will always try to support our members as far as I can, even if not everything is my cup of tea.

But I can't help hoping for something personal and authentic and substantive, when it's just Jungkook coming to us without a collab. (And with Scooter at the helm for an all-English EP, I guess I'm not holding my breath. But maybe this is all part of the learning and growing process. Time will tell.)

Please know that I don't expect other people to suit me and my tastes, but neither will I enthusiastically support content with my time and money when they don't suit me at all or actually really turn me off, ya feel me? It's a real and respectful relationship I have with BTS and their music; not performative. I don't follow along quietly out of obligation, but rather a sincere joy to participate.

I love Jungkook deeply. He's a sweet and intelligent and kind-hearted young man. Amazingly talented and humble. Sincere, open to being vulnerable, protective of those whom he loves. He donates to kid's hospitals, for goodness sake. Jeon Jungkook is a good egg.

I guess I'm just sort of feeling a bit whelmed by the type of music that is in vogue these days. JK worked hard, he did well on his parts. I just am hoping his album showcases some of the emotional depth and meaningful thoughts I have seen from him in the past, if I'm being purely honest. *shrug*

Those are my less-than-two cents. Of course, you may have a vastly different perspective and I appreciate that. Just please keep it respectful of all members and each other in the comments here. It's been a long day and I desperately need some real rest now. I'm trusting I can post this and not come back to a warzone.

I've got a Friday Thirst post in the queue for you guys, and then I'll be taking a bit of a break from social media for a few days to work on work deadlines. Please keep voting for Jimin and of course stream and buy for Jungkook and other new releases.

Sending you all so much love!

~Roo

[utilitycaster]

FEELINGS ON THE TALIESIN ASHTON MOST STRESSFUL CHOICE EVER ?

(It took exactly 60 seconds after it happened for terrible stinky bad takes on both ashton AND taliesin to show up in the main tag so i wish to ask a sane person)

I think it was an incredibly stupid and potentially lethal (in-game, obviously; out-of-game is fine) decision born of immense hubris, that blew past Matt's repeated warnings, which is to say, that's why I love Ashton as a character and Taliesin as a player.

I'm just going to give a brief overview of the hypothetical takes and my allegedly sane (thanks for that, I appreciate it, and will attempt to live up to it) perspective thereof:

People who agree with me and enjoy Ashton because of the above: my people, obviously they are correct and great.

People who agree with me but dislike Ashton because of the above, and are normal about Taliesin as a player (this does not mean they have to like him, merely that they acknowledge this was an in-character decision that made sense for Ashton to have made, even if they aren't a fan): valid! We all have different tastes, and my fave might not be your fave and that's okay!

People who think this was selfish and mean and deprived Fearne of the shard: she did not want it and it was discussed in-game. In fact Fearne was the only person who knew of their intent. (No one else was champing at the bit either for it). It was selfish, in-character, because Ashton is often extremely self-serving as many punks are; it is not unreasonable as a player move once no one else has expressed sincere enthusiasm for it.

People who think that people being mad means something is inherently wrong: how the fuck do you get through the day, honestly. Again, develop conflict resolution skills and healthy ways of expressing anger (no, constant sublimation is NOT healthy though it's part of a balanced anger management system).

The crew that just fucking hates Taliesin can be disregarded forever; this is true for any cast member's crew of haters. This is also to be fair true for any cast member's crew of blindly adoring obsessives. moderation in all things. One of them said that if Ashton weren't present in the campaign it would be unchanged which is the stupidest thing I've heard in a while.

That probably covers everything; basically, this was in-character, and it's okay if you dislike it in a normal way, it's bad if you dislike it in a weird shriek-y hateful way, everyone should go get into more pointless fun arguments with their friends for sport, and also consume a beverage (alcoholic or otherwise).

[keikakudom]

Lemme try and make sense of Vox's mindset, and correct me if I get anything wrong?

I think Vox in RR!au hardly actually thinks about suicide. He's too much of a busy man to do that, after all! Thinking about death is for people with too much time on their hands, who don't have to deal with a billion problems on the daily. And sure, maybe it wouldn't be a terrible accident if he was locked out on extermination day one year (not that there's exterminations anymore), but he'll never bother to actively seek it -- why would he? He has things to do. Empires to run/build. Deals to make. Resorts to run, residents to settle, princesses to talk to.

Really, everything would be just fine and dandy, as long as progress is being made, nothing goes wrong at the resort, heaven doesn't come down for no good reason, and that deer freak manage to not bother him for a single day. All dandy!

So what if he's been going through business ventures like someone going through Doritos at the back of the car? It's difficult to stay on top, in Hell, and he can't rely on tech or media forever, not when they cycle faster and faster(and he would know, of course, his whole body is made of it). He's doing what it takes, and if it's risky, what business isn't?

And re: Alastor, vox may have once had feelings for him, but now it's probably soured into maybe wishing that Alastor would just fuck off somewhere where he'll never be heard from again. I think Vox knows very well from years of companionship that Alastor considers him a source of amusement and entertainment rather than an equal, and that hasn't truly changed even after he left, and in a way that has to bite? That Alastor cannot leave it alone, has to make his opinions and disdain clear to all of hell every single day, and also make it clear that vox cannot do anything to stop him (that tv still runs on radiowaves fundamentally, that he can't get rid of Alastor's influence).

Like the way I interpret canon!vox's feelings re:alastor has a lot more insecurity and the desire to show he's stronger now, he's over it, he doesn't need him, than just being rejected romantically, and in contrast RR!vox grinned and bore it longer without letting on, and then at some point just gave up, by which time his feelings have soured so far past insecurity and bitterness into straight up nihilism. (Doomed yaoi my fav)

Ok I'm just rambling now but yeah I think vox in RR!au is really really interesting? Bc he's y'know not in the best place but also he's fine. He's not, probably never, going to actively do anything, left to his own devices he's just going to keep at his daily routine and eventually self-destruct on his own hubris by taking on far more than he is capable of (people pleasing tendencies, hm?). But otherwise he's fine.

*drops my glass of milk* yea, this all. Checks out.

(that tv still runs on radiowaves fundamentally, that he can't get rid of Alastor's influence)

I think RR!Alastor is also chasing RR!Vox because he knows something is really wrong when Vox wants to cut something *fundamental to his functions* out from his life... If Alastor had any heat to his words, he could do some serious damage to Vox.

But Alastor was not able to reciprocate back then(or in general) the way Vox ever wanted him to. Alastor might think, "What's so wrong about being amusing to me? What's so wrong in being cared for that way?" But we know that Vox, even in canon, is pretty damn emotional. A confession was bound to happen, but since RR!Vox never did, he opt'd to shut them off. It started off with distractions, and those worked too well. Eventually he gave up trying to figure out his emotions and took the "easy" way out, nihilism--but like everything Vox dips his foot into, it's never enough. Only this time it's not only power(like I interpret canon!Vox to seek) that's growing/he's greedy for, it's this all-encompassing void.

Another interesting characterization to tack onto RR!AU Vox is his strong lack of self-preservation, I did mention it here when I had some thoughts on canon!Vox, but rather than "confidence", he does not care. And on occasion, he can go irrationally, batshit crazy for the same reason.

Let's set the stage in hmm, 1980s? He starts not to care about smaller allies, the people he stomps on, eating them up to become an overlord. Recruits Valentino, doesn't care that Val is immoral. At first it's "not his business", but it starts spreading. What is it that he's looking for? Power? Love? Entertainment? People to accept him?

Which is why RR!Vox decided to jump the gun a little bit and shoot for becoming a form of "GOD", aka the original reason for all his anguish in Hell(his religious roots as a human). It's kind of...an endpoint? It's not the most sane, or sensical route-- but he doesn't care that much. He's functioning on this tired/desensitized, pseudo-robotic, logical reasoning with a combo of "oh god I'm running out of interest"(in existing/running himself to the ground). So....hm, "fine" is a tragic word, indeed.

He's not, probably never, going to actively do anything, left to his own devices he's just going to keep at his daily routine and eventually self-destruct on his own hubris by taking on far more than he is capable of (people pleasing tendencies, hm?). But otherwise he's fine.

Welllll, he did always want to go out with a bang. If he did. I don't know, something really big. Like becoming God! Yeah.....That'd do it.

IMO, the premise of RR!AU isn't in stasis-- the reason Vox picked up this project in particular is an aggressive move. He's no longer distributing the same amount of work to the other Vees either anymore, so there is....some urgency, is what I like to think....

[actual-changeling]

…im sorry i feel like im still missing something. gabirel and beelzebub didn’t unlearn anything, though? they were in positions of power and left the system when they got bored. they’ve never been terrified for so long the way crowley and aziraphale have been (as far as we know). they implemented fear into the lower ranking demons and angels to keep them in line with threats of violence, of falling, condescension, and actual implementation of punishment via execution. g+b arent comparable to a+c because g+b actually felt like they had control over things in their lives. and what other angels and demons have unlearned everything the system has taught them? do you mean unlearn as in they now view the system the same way crowley does? if i understand you correctly (and correct me if im wrong), you’re saying aziraphale is in the same position as all the other angels so therefore has no excuse to “not change” but he (and crowley) are in distinctly unique positions from everyone else because of their time on earth and with each other. that gives them unique struggles, right?

I'm sorry, but at this point I'm wondering if you've even watched the show because it is all right there on the screen.

Aziraphale is in a unique position yes, and it is BETTER than literally everyone else's. Heaven does not give a single fuck about what he does and does not do, he has more freedom than any other celestial being and can do whatever the hell he wants. The only time heaven cares about him is if he is directly working against their world-ending plans—otherwise they forget he exists. This is canon. Heaven somehow judging and punishing him is made up. They don't care about earth or what Aziraphale does down there.

And are you trying to tell me that Gabriel and Beez are somehow in charge of the system? Because they're not. They're victims just like everyone else. The Metatron could have his memory erased and his life destroyed with a snap—they survived the way they were forced to live, just like every other angel. They have no more control than Muriel does, they are just as paranoid and terrified and lonely. They can be punished like everyone else, their jobs are high-risk.

Gabriel is not lying to Beez' face. He is not insulting them, being cruel, trying to change them, or calling them an evil demon like it is the worst thing it could possibly be. Beez is fine with being a demon and Gabriel is fine with being an angel, and they both understand that those identities mean absolutely nothing once you look past the institution. Everyone knows that, except for Aziraphale, because he refuses to see that.

Angels are working with demons, and yes, they have their roles, but they also know that those only matter while they're actively doing their jobs. None of them have fucking control, not demons, not Archangels, not Dukes of hell, not Crowley. Angels and demons are not the enemy here.

Heaven and hell as institutions are, not individuals who were forced to live within them.

Again, Aziraphale had almost total freedom because he's been on earth since the beginning, his "concern" is based on made-up beliefs so he does not have to look past his own comfort.

"Unique struggles" for CROWLEY, who is canonically being tortured and followed and watched 24/7. And HE STILL CHANGED. He fucking worked on himself, he is not being cruel or cowardly, he is not hurtful, he understands what it means to live in an abusive system and he still changed because that's what is right. What is decent. Crowley is kind despite the fact that it can get him killed because he actually looked in the mirror and built his own moral compass instead of shutting eyes & ears and sticking to bigoted views to make his life easier.

Aziraphale does not change because he does not want to. He keeps hurting Crowley because it's the path of least resistance, the easiest way to avoid having to look in the mirror, and he takes it for granted that Crowley will come back to him no matter what. That he can demand anything and everything and Crowley will follow—and if he doesn't, he throws a tantrum like a toddler and goes to pout in a corner (see the argument about Gabriel in episode one, for example).

Aziraphale was in a unique position with endless opportunities and he did absolutely nothing with it—his beliefs and words are the same as on the walls of Eden. Six thousand years and Crowley is still the second choice and heaven his first.

[lonelycowgirls]

Staying Afloat aka yachtie!harry

Here we go... part one of Scarlett's story!

I can't wait for ya'll to read this and what I have in store for these characters. This is mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE Below Deck, but I hope you all love it, regardless.

Click here for the Character List if you want to really form a picture in your mind.

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xo

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Warnings: swearing Word count: 4.2k

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Intimidating moustaches and pretty boys...

Scarlett

"Buongiorno, signora."

"Buongiorno." I handed the man with a very intimidating moustache, sitting behind the immigration inspection desk, my passport. My new bright orange floral leather sleeve sat in the crevice between his thumb and forefinger as he fingered through the pages to find the photograph page. I smiled genuinely at him before looking back to my phone to check the text that told me where I would be meeting my taxi driver. Normally the broker would arrange for the drivers to meet me with a sign in the airport arrival area, but this time it looked like I would have to meet them outside the airport in the taxi rank. Not that I minded, I just enjoyed the usual more - it made me feel famous.

"Business or pleasure, signora?"

"Business," I responded, tossing my hair over to the other side and hoisting my carry-on bag further onto my shoulder. "I'm working on a super-yacht."

The man nodded once, looking completely unimpressed, before stamping my passport and passing it back to me, waving me through to baggage claim. I smiled again at him, ignoring the fact that he looked past me with a blank stare. I got it, his job looked incredibly tedious. Having to deal with people like me; ignorant people who didn't speak the language and, worse still, refused to learn, entering his country every day. That's us Brits for you.

I wandered to the baggage claim area in pursuit of my bag. Before the upcoming season, I'd just completed a winter season sailing in Australia. My phone buzzed with the familiar 'Welcome to Italy' message from Vodafone. It buzzed again with a text from my mum.

Mum: Hope you're alright, hun. Text me when you land. Dad's still upset that you aren't coming home. Have fun. Mum x

My dad never got it, my ambition to travel. Probably never would. He hadn't been out of the country since he and Mum had split up when I was seventeen. He was happy with summers spent in Skegness and Blackpool. As soon as I found yachting I was on the first bus to Cornwall, where the training took place. My nanna had been an air hostess, so I like to think travelling is in my blood. She was brave and bold and was the first person to defend me at family gatherings for my life choices. I kept an album of her photos from her travelling days under my bed at home and kept a small Polaroid of us together in my purse. It helped when I was second-guessing myself in my job or if I was having a wobble about life. It was all the motivation I needed to keep going.

Walking through the bustling airport, I checked the screens above each luggage belt for the correct one. Amsterdam... Paris... London... Sydney. As I approached the Sydney belt, I pulled my headphones out of my bag to continue listening to the podcast I'd had on during the flight. I was in the middle of being lectured on why we were all wrong about Anna Nicole Smith by a pair of millennials - who were most likely barely birthed when she was actually alive - before the plane began to land.

The belt moved around and around for almost half an hour before any bags actually made their way out to its impatiently awaiting audience. I watched as a little boy ran to jump onto a giant black suitcase that was bulging at the sides, his dad rushed to pick both the boy and the suitcase up off the belt before they both found themselves winding back out to the mysterious place where the bags were handled. No one ever really questions where they come from or who handles them, they simply just appear. The boy's mum was in the middle of breastfeeding a very young baby but wasn't deterred from chastising the boy loud enough for me to hear over my headphones.

I watched a young lad from a group of tatted-up blokes, who I assumed were on a stag do, help an elderly man hoist his very large leopard print suitcase off the belt once he'd seen he was struggling. I then watched the elderly man wheel the case and its matching carry-on over to another elderly man who grabbed his hand to guide them both towards the arrivals exit.

I spotted my Gucci (T.K Maxx Special) monogrammed suitcase as it came steadily around the corner and stepped to pick it up, dragging it to land heavily on the shiny marble floor, being careful to not drop it on my sandalled feet. Then I just had to wait for my dad's old navy-blue duffle to wind its way through.

Walking out from the arrivals exit, the heat hit me straight in the face, but with a pleasantry that only came from the Italian Riviera. I sighed happily and slid my Dior sunglasses over my eyes. They were a gift from my last boyfriend, but for that price, there was no way they'd be going to the tip like the rest of his stuff.

Before looking for my taxi, I stepped to the side to toss my curls into a high bun. There was no way I'd make it through a hot taxi ride with probably no air conditioning with my thick black locks hanging around my neck and face. Once I was satisfied with the look after a quick check in a nearby parked car window, I lit a cigarette and checked my phone again for the licence plate number of the taxi I'd be taking to the dock.

Glancing around, my eyes landed on a sleek black Tesla. My eyebrows raised, sliding the glasses down my nose, I double-checked its plate number with my phone once more. If this luxury travel was anything to go by, this charter season, I was in for a treat.

"Grazie mille." I said as the kind man, who I learned was named Tullio, tried to carefully remove my heavy bag from the boot of the car. "It's okay you can just drop it." He smiled and wiped his brow and began to wheel it up the dock. I rushed to stump out my second cigarette on the top of the nearest bin, then trotted to catch up with him, attempting to take the handle from him. "Oh, please, um, per favore, I can take it from here." He waved me off and gestured for me to lead on. I blew a few stray curls from my forehead, smiled tight-lipped at him and stepped to start making my way up the dock.

Mega-yacht after mega-yacht passed by as I searched for the one I'd been hired on, Andiamo. I felt the awkwardness creep up my spine at the thought of meeting the crew and captain alongside Tullio. I didn't want them to think I was one of those stewardesses. I already knew that I'd give that impression with my choice of designer bag - even if it was a knock-off. I didn't need a small, sweaty Italian man in a too-tight suit trailing behind me with it to make that worse.

"Ah, here we are, grazie, Tullio." I smiled widely, stopping outside a random boat. He looked at me, one bushy brow raised in question, then shook his head and continued up the dock. My face fell and I followed him sheepishly. He must have thought I was barmy.

As we approached the end of the dock, I spotted a tall man, arms folded, looking sharp in a uniform. He was standing at the stern of a boat that the closer we approached became clear to be named, Andiamo. I couldn't see how many stripes were on his uniform but my guess was that he was the captain. The rattling of my suitcase along the creaky wooden boards of the dock grabbed his attention and he opened his arms wide, laughing sharply before clapping his hands twice.

"Ciao, bella!" The man on the boat exclaimed loudly in a very American twang, making poor Tullio jump slightly and mutter incoherently in Italian. The dock was so quiet otherwise. I smiled and brought one hand to shield my eyes and the other up to wave at him. He jogged around the side of the huge ship, practically skipped down the passerelle and hopped onto the dock as we met in the middle. "Welcome, Scarlett!" He yelled, even though we were barely two steps apart. Americans.

"Ciao, you must be-"

"Captain Bobby, a pleasure to meet you." He held a hand out for me to shake, which I did with gusto - always eager to make a good first impression and wanting to match his energy. He turned to Tullio who stood beside me. "Signore, grazie, I'll take it from here." Bobby nodded, but Tullio didn't move. "Oh, right." Bobby jumped into action, patting the pockets of his trousers in search of his wallet. Pulling it from the back of his very tight white trousers, he plucked out a note and handed it to Tullio who saluted us both and meandered back up the dock. Bobby sighed awkwardly while putting his wallet back, but he recovered quickly. "Alright, let's get you on board." He clapped his hands again, rubbing them together before hoisting my suitcase onto his shoulder with surprising ease. My eyes wandered to the bulging muscle of his upper arms in his smart white shirt and epaulettes, but only for a second before I shook it off and followed him up the passerelle, kicking off my shoes in the process.

"She's a beauty, Captain." I said, glancing around the gorgeous boat before me.

"Yeah, we've got ourselves a looker, that's for sure!" He shouted again, leading me into the bridge.

"So, Scarlett-" He said, placing my suitcase onto the pristine burgundy carpet and rolling it to sit in the corner.

"Oh, please, call me Lettie. It's what all my other boats called me." I corrected with a shrug and a smile. He nodded.

"Alright, Lettie. I've obviously read over your resume many times, but please, tell me a bit about yourself." He leaned back against the arm of the big leather captain's chair and folded his arms across his chest. He smiled and I noticed how kind his eyes were, with the way they crinkled at the corners. He was a pretty young captain from my experience, I hoped that that fact would bode well.

"Well, I'm 27 years old, I'm from Liverpool originally but I've been travelling and yachting since I was 19. I've just come from a season in Oz which was a 74-footer, and I-"

"ROBERT?!" I jolted slightly at the loud interruption that sounded like it came from the dock. I whipped around whilst the captain clapped his hands again and laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, darting out of the door. I frowned as I watched him leave and moved to look at what all the fuss was about.

"Hey hey! Harold! You're looking fresh, my man!" I leaned against the small entryway to the bridge to watch the captain jog to meet a long-haired man at the end of the passerelle. The man had round black sunglasses on, a patterned shirt that was undone to just past his chest, and loose brown shorts. He'd brought half his wardrobe if his baggage was anything to go by. I counted four black duffle bags that were bursting at the seams resting on the dock. It's a good job Tullio only had to pick me up from the airport...

"You're telling me?! Get in here you handsome bastard." The two men hugged closely, clapping their hands on each other's backs. I rolled my eyes at the bro fest and stepped back into the bridge to wander down the stairs and through to the interior of the boat. It was beautiful; varnished wooden surfaces, a luxurious curved sofa as a centrepiece, all leading to wall-to-wall double glass doors that led out to a stunning view from the aft deck, and loads of vast space. I ran my finger along a windowsill and lifted it to see a coat of dust. Sure, it was stunning, but it was fucking filthy. I sighed and looked out the window, I imagined who I would be working with and hoped that they were ready to put in some hard work because I wanted to make good money this season. I heard the low timbre of male voices approaching again and turned to see them coming down the winding stairs, still chatting and catching up.

"Ah, there she is! Harry, this is Scarlett- oh sorry, I mean Lettie. Our chief stewardess for the season." I smiled at the men and stepped to extend my hand to shake.

"Great to meet you, Scarlett. I'm the bosun." He said, smiling around a deep British accent. As he took my palm in his, I noticed how rough his hands were, the classic sign of a deckie.

"You too, Harry. You're quite young for a bosun, eh?" He shrugged and smirked.

"Maybe I'm not as young as you think."

"Harry's been my first mate for three years now, we were on another boat though. I trust you guys will work well together to figure out everything on Andiamo." I nodded dutifully and hoped that Harry wouldn't be what I suspected he'd be from first impressions. But something deep inside me secretly hoped that he would. I supposed that only time would tell.

We walked further into the interior and on down to the crew mess. The captain led the way through to explain where the crew quarters were. I was surprised by how big the space for the crew was, my previous boat had had tiny living quarters. "So, Lettie you'll have two stews under you, a girl and a guy, if I remember correctly." I nodded. "And you've actually got the same under you, H."

"Nothing new there then," Harry smirked to the captain, who rolled his eyes playfully.

"I don't wanna know, man." Captain Bobby put his hands up in surrender and wandered back out to the mess. Harry glanced back at me and I quirked a brow in his direction, before moving past him to check where the uniforms had been stored.

Just as I started sifting through the laundry room and placing uniforms into piles for everyone, I heard the captain yelling again above. The crew mess was normally very soundproof, due to all the debauchery that usually took place there - he was really that loud. I guessed that more crew were arriving.

"Hey, Harry what size t-shirt are you?" I called out to him.

"Depends, is it Fruit of the Loom?"

"Um, no. They're unbranded." I looked at the label on the neck of the bright teal-coloured shirt in my hand. I walked back out to the mess to see him sprawled out on the bench seat, munching on an apple. He'd put his shoulder-length hair into a bun that didn't look much different to my own. "They're soft though. This one's a large? What do you think?" He jumped up from where he sat in the mess and bared his chest, holding the apple in his teeth. I scoffed a laugh and held up the shirt to his chest, he nodded with a smirk, his dimples poking through each side of the apple.

"This'll do, Scar." He took the shirt from me and put it over his shoulder as he took another bite of his apple, moving past me to go into his room. My move to return to the laundry room was halted by a girl coming down the stairs.

"Hi! I'm Marnie!" The girl exclaimed, her blonde hair whipping to catch up with how quickly she'd bounded down the stairs. She pulled on the straps of her enormous backpack to readjust it on her tiny shoulders.

"Oh, hi Marnie, I'm Scarlett. But you can call me Lettie." I smiled and shook her hand and tried not to be blinded by her perfect white teeth, bared in a bright smile. "I'm the chief stew."

"Great! I'm a deckie." She explained, her strong Australian accent caused a ripple of warmth through my veins. I already missed Oz. Hearing footsteps, I turned back to see Harry jogging through the narrow corridor towards us.

"Is that a deckie, I hear?" He said, still chomping on his half-eaten apple. "Hey, I'm Harry, bosun" Marnie didn't miss a beat, opening her arms up to signal a hug, which caused Harry to hesitate slightly before accepting.

"I'm so excited for this season! Is anyone else here yet?"

"Just us and Cap so far."

"Oh, pick of the rooms then!" Marnie winked, if her speech was written down, every sentence would be finished off with an exclamation mark. I loved her already. I led her to the bedroom next to Harry's, which she'd be sharing with the engineer, who, I was pleased to see, was also female.

I continued sorting through the laundry, placing fresh uniform packs onto each of the free beds. Each pack had a pair of white shirts with epaulettes, corresponding to each role, a pair of teal polo shirts, and a pair of shorts or a skort, depending on the person. Then I started unpacking in my room.

I was in the middle of organising my knickers and bras neatly into a drawer when I heard a crash. Rushing out into the hallway I was met with Harry's confused face across from me. We looked at each other for a second before he tilted his head for me to lead the way towards the crew mess.

I gasped, "Oh, Christ, are you okay?" I reached to help the girl that was trying to lift herself up off her enormous, metallic silver, hardshell suitcase that was lying flat on the polished wooden floor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm so embarrassed."

"Did you fall down all those stairs?" I asked, Harry moved the suitcase to sit back on its four wheels, rolling it to the side of the crew mess table. The girl nodded, rubbing her elbow.

"Why didn't you get Cap to carry your suitcase down here for you? Or he could've radioed me." Harry leaned against the table, folding his arms across his chest. I took her arm in my hands and turned it inspect the possible damage.

"Wanted to do it myself." The girl said in a smaller voice. She was so petite, but I could see the lines of muscles in her bare arms, she probably could have done it herself if the stairs weren't so narrow. "I'm fine, honestly. I'll just go to my room." She shrugged her arm out of my grasp and moved towards her case. I frowned in her direction and caught Harry's eye as she moved down the hallway, he smirked, confirming that we'd both had the same thought. She was a stew.

"Um, hey, I can let you know which room you're in, what's your name?"

"Molly," she sighed in an accent I could tell hailed from either New York or Boston. "I'm second stew, I think." She stopped and glanced to look at me expectantly.

"Oh, yes. I'm Scarlett, but you can call me Lettie. I'm chief stew." I smiled slightly, I felt like I was treading on eggshells around this girl. "You're in with me," I said, beckoning her towards our room. "I hope you don't mind the top bunk, I just prefer to be on the ground." I laughed lightly. Molly smiled tight-lipped at me and lifted her suitcase up onto the top bunk with minimal effort. I knew it.

We continued to unpack in silence, I hoped that this frost that had come to rest upon the beginnings of our relationship was temporarily caused by her unwanted trip down the stairs. I'd just finished making my bed when I heard another voice, this time deep and masculine, I counted my lucky stars as I left the room.

"Hi!" It was my turn to say everything with an exclamation mark. The man jumped as I rushed towards him. He had dark shades on and just a large backpack slung over one shoulder. His megawatt smile made my belly flip - he was fucking gorgeous. "Sorry, I'm Scarlett, I'm the chief stew." Stepping forward, I collected myself and held a hand for him to shake. His bulging muscle flexed as he shook it, before lifting his shades to sit on his head and slinging his backpack to the floor.

"So nice to meet you Scarlett, I'm Jesse. I'm a steward." I quirked my brow at him, but inwardly rolled my eyes at myself for assuming that he would be a deckie.

"Nice to meet you, too! Looking forward to working with you this season. Let me show you where you'll be staying." I led Jesse to where he'd be staying with the male deckhand and left him to settle in and unpack.

I looked at my Apple Watch and decided to take a smoke break before heading up to start organising the boat. I let both of my stews know to be ready to help within the hour and headed up to the aft deck.

The sun was just beginning to set over the line where the sky met the steady waves of the sea. I sat on the teak and slid my legs through the bars to dangle over the edge of the boat. Taking a cigarette out of the personalised case my Grandma had given me and lit one. I sighed the smoke out and swung my legs back and forth in front of me, leaning an arm back to rest on. I thought about quitting every time I left a boat - smoking that is. But every time I boarded a new one all I could think about was having a ciggy out on the deck. It was just too easy, the culture was smoking and, to be honest, I'd find myself desperate for one after a hard day on charter.

I took another deep drag and brought my gaze to the crystal-clear water below me. I watched two bright blue fish swim in circular patterns, one of them chasing the other. I smiled softly, leaning my chin on my arm on the metal rail. The warm breeze blew through my curls and made me feel content for a few moments.

"Hey, mind if I knick one of those?" I jumped slightly at the interference of my peace but recognised Harry's low timbre. I turned to face him, his figure stood in the golden sunshine, making him look rather yummy. I nodded and passed him my case and lighter. He flicked it open as he swung his legs through the bars to sit beside me. Lighting up, he looked closer at the metal case, turning it in his hand. He ran his thumb across the raised imagery and wording. "Is this supposed to be you?"

I laughed, blowing another puff of smoke through my lips and nostrils. "What do you think?"

"I think if it's an accurate portrayal, I can't wait to see you in a bikini." I laughed again, taking the case back and looking at it myself. On the front, there was an illustration of an extremely voluptuous woman, naked apart from the flames engulfing her intimate parts. Her head was tilted back, eyes hooded and mouth agape sensually. But her flowing dark curls were where our similarities ended, I could assure him that much.

Yeah, nana wasn't your average grandma.

"I bet. Shame I only brought one-pieces, then, isn't it?" I said, side-eyeing him as I blew more fumes from my lips. I moved to put the case to my side on the teak.

"Ah, I'm sure I've got something you can borrow." He rebuffed casually, looking out to the sunset before us. I side-eyed him harder.

"You've brought bikinis?" I questioned, running my tongue along my the edges of my top teeth in curiosity, a slight lift in the corner of my mouth.

"One or two may have ended up in my suitcase, comes with the territory." I scoffed and rolled my eyes playfully at his cocky wink in my direction. He was one of those guys who had a permanent smirk on his lips. I always got on with guys like that, at least at first. I was never one to take to people who took life too seriously. They usually ended up taking the joke a step too far though.

I decided to chance it and give him a once over as he looked out to sea. His hair was still pulled back in a hair tie, with wispy baby hairs dancing in the warm breeze. Green eyes, squinting in the sunlight but still glittering in the reflection of the ocean beneath us. He had a prominent nose with large nostrils, but it only served to enhance his distinctive face. He interrupted gruffly, a slight cough directed into a fist brought to his mouth. "You should know that. Been in the industry for an age, haven't you."

I glanced back outwards, lining up the tip of my cigarette between my two fingers with the edge of where the sky met the sea. "Certainly feels that way," I mumbled slightly, closing one eye as the scorched tip continued to sizzle away. "Yachting years are like dog years. My body would definitely agree." I decided not to question how he knew the length of time I'd been yachting, it wasn't uncommon for staff to read each other's files before a season, especially the bosun.

"Your body definitely speaks for itself." Harry side-eyed me again, taking a long pull from his cigarette over smirking lips. He was going hard, but I couldn't afford to let my imagination run too wild. He was the bosun and as the chief stew, we needed to have a strong relationship onboard. Which meant avoiding a catastrophic relationship off-board. Although, I let my mind wander to all the ways I could make him feel catastrophic.

Shaking my head and ridding myself of the thoughts, I stubbed my cigarette out in the crystal ashtray I'd found behind the bar in the main salon and moved to stand.

"Alright, pretty boy," I said, before leaning down to speak into his ear, hands squeezing his broad shoulders. "I think it's time we did some work, yeah?" With that, I left him with a parting tap, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. Looking into my reflection before the double glass doors began to slide open, the suspicion was confirmed with a glance at him behind me.

This was going to be one hell of a season.

[powerpolyculeshowdown]

listen im just gonna say if anyone else has an issue with megthanzag just vote against them in future rounds or ignore the poll. you dont have to go out of your way to throw accusations at a strager because the greek mythology game has weird family dynamics. move on w ur life and leave me the fuck alone, man. block me if you have to idc. get a hobby, go do smth fun. go outside and smell some flowers.

im open to criticism but if ur gonna be passive aggressive and accusatory dont waste either of our times.

also consider the actual context of the media ur talking about instead of applying real life human morals to the greek gods game, maybe.

For the people who dont know Hades game:

Zagreus was raised by Thanatos' mother, but they do not treat each other as brothers, in fact even when talking about the past they seem to be more like childhood friends. its fine if you're uncomfortable that they're technically adoptive brothers but they dont seem to see each other as such. Thanatos visibly treats Zagreus different from how he treats Hypnos or Charon, who are referred to as his brothers in the game.

Megaera is not and has never been, from what i can remember, implied to be Nyx's daughter. Feel free to correct me with screenshots if I'm wrong, but I played Hades for a long time and never got any dialogues about that. There are myths that say Nyx is the mother of the Furies, but there are also other origin myths for them, and it's likely the game's lore uses one of the other myths, unless I'm missing something.

There is no actual incest going on. There is an argument to be made about the fact Than and Zag were raised by the same woman, and Zagreus did believe he was her son as well, but again they did not treat each other as brothers. If you played the game and you disagree with me, I'm open to have a discussion about this but I'm not going to put up with accusations from strangers. I don't have time or energy for this.

Also yes, it is a game based on greek mythology and I will use that argument cause that's literally what it is. Things have context. They don't exist in a void for you to apply your personal morals on as if you're the only person with Good Opinions.

Once again, I will no longer engage with passive aggressive strangers throwing accusations at me.

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

Colored Gaze: Zachary Sallows Analysis

Me after writing all of this SHWJFJWKRNJS

Mhm yeah its time for the british bastard to get anaylzed and theorized-

Not much has been said about Zachary's childhood except that he got his photography hobby from his dad and that he was raised to be a gentleman. I've mentioned this before but I think they may have mentally affected him alot and made him hold himself to high standards which feeds into his depression that has been confirmed that he has, all that going along with that Zachary hasn't felt love for anybody until meeting MC. 

Along with having years of repressed sexual desire which is probably why he's such a slut.

I also think that maybe MC being the only person he's felt love for is why he's so damn possessive over them. He finally met somebody that he feels something for so you bet your ass he's not going to let them go and show them all the love he can.[Even if he does it in a fucked way]

And Zachary is definitely more of a traditional yandere and I think its possible that Zachary would even break MCs legs to keep them with him. And of course I'm not saying this just because he's seems like the type but there was a post where it was very subtly hinted at.

Take note of the "To him, its too early for that yet." Might be looking to far into it but thats what I'm getting from that.

Speaking of Zachary hurting MC one of the most surprising things is that Zach might be on some levels "the safest one" because he's the only one I can't see killing MC. I know alot of people give Seth the title of the safest but comrades- Lets not forget how this mf acts when he's mad. But alas even if Zachary wouldn't kill MC I definitely see him mind breaking MC if it comes to that point. After all it has been said that if things don't go his way then he'll bend it until it does.

There's also other evidence for that considering his favorite flower is a rose because roses still look beautiful even when they wilt. Now wouldn't somebody that your obsessed with still look beautiful even if their broken? :)

Also if anybody thinks that Zachary is safe because of his overprotectiveness,keep in mind that it's been confirmed that the reason Zachary wants to protect them is because it feeds his ego. 🙂 [Also once again could be something else of his depression since it makes him feel good about himself].

I would also like to mention one of my past theories for this next part,So yall remember my "Simon is a cannibal" theory? [That was debunked btw keep in mind] Well I noticed that in the devs response to it they said something among the lines of "When is my Zachary going to get a theory like this" and at the time I pushed it aside because I couldn't link it to any of the other clues I had about Zachary.

[Credit to Colored Gaze on Twitter]

But it immediately clicked for me with that one art on Twitter of Zachary cooking- So does anybody else remember how its been mentioned that Zachary has other "hobbies" but its always been very vague about what they are? Well I think I had a correct theory just wrong LI-

Because with Simon it was just Entity being a lil goofy that made me think he was a cannibal but for Zachary now there's actual evidence(?) That HE is a cannibal. 

It makes me wonder why though he may be a cannibal and I've come to two possible answers even though I got to admit, their somewhat of a stretch.

So it could very possibly be that since he's uninstalling people left and right for MC that it might be his way of hiding the bodies. But then again its very possible that Zachary could have been killing before meeting MC to for this "hobby".

Or (and this one is a major strech), looking at all the other things he's into he could possibly have a thing for anatomy but I won't put much since I don't really have that much proof for it.

Also let me take you back to Zachary's ref sheet for a moment. You remember that "Has a unique sense of beauty" part? What if his unique sense of beauty is actually just what he wants. What he visuals. Of course he cares about what MC wants and their opinions but he still wants the future that he visualizes and he's going to do anything to get that.

But honestly, Zachary's not all that bad as some of us make him out to be. Yes even though he can get mad easily he won't show it to MC or take it out on them [Maybe in woo-hoo but thats not my point] and he's just a romantic guy that will take you to dinner and give you roses [andkidnapyou] and don't quote me on this but Zach actually looks very cuddable.

I already have a lot of theory/analysis on this post so I think I'll stop here for now until we get more info in Zachary. And thank you for reading my rant about this possessive bastard and have a nice day <3

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

Zachary belongs to @clrdgaze <3

@dont-wannadothis-anymore @amelia809

[qqueenofhades]

hilary, I really love talking about history with my friends but sometimes I talk about a historical person that I'm interested in and my friends act like just because I know things about a famous historical person I support everything they did. even when I know they know I don't support slavery, racism, sexism, etc. how do I keep from losing my cool when they do this?

Look, I have no idea where the "if you talk about anything complex/consume this material/think about it in any way, YOU TOO MUST SUPPORT IT AND BE PROBLEMATIC AND BAD!!!" mindset came from, but I honestly and deeply wish it a very killed with fire. It's the same anti mindset where if you read Morally Impure Fan Fiction, you are Morally Impure, but apparently now extends to... learning about the literal entirety of human experience? Why does this not surprise me, while also making me want to put my head through a plate glass door?

Once again, I don't know what people think historians DO, but I can assure y'all, it's not sitting around talking about how Totally Great [fill in the historical person, place, or thing] absolutely was, and how there were no problems with it ever and everyone should just be like, totally down with it, man. (Tubular.) In fact, the practice of academic history is often directly focused, especially nowadays, on identifying these problems and previous interpretations, putting them into context, and discussing how they happened in the first place. Considering that we're suffering from such a profound crisis of historical ignorance, both deliberate and inadvertent, and have seen how that manifests in current events (which are just the history happening right now), I am... boggled that "we shouldn't talk about anything because it was Morally Problematic!!!" is, indeed, getting serious play. Once again, it's the anti-intellectualism that is just as rampant on the left as it is on the right, while dressing itself up in different language and pretending to support different goals. But either way, any critical philosophy based on "we can never talk about things that went wrong/people who did Wrong Things in the past" is absolutely dead on arrival as any use to anyone. Ever.

Obviously, there are complexities in how to approach this material, and I personally don't think that historical figures, especially complex ones, should be "fandomized" or treated just as Cute OTP Blorbos or sanded down to fit a sanitized fictional box (unless they are explicitly fictionalized/being used in a fictional context, and even then, yeah, it's good to keep the background in mind). It's not that this is wrong -- after all, historians get into this line of work because they have Big Thoughts and Many Feelings about historical people/places/things and want to work on those in a variety of contexts -- but it's a little uncomfortable, at least for me. That said, it's still not inherently wrong, in any way, to be interested in/want to talk about people from the past. They're human, for god sakes! You are also human! They are your ancestors! Of course you, a primate with higher reasoning and anxiety, are curious about them! You want to know their stories and consider their circumstances and ponder why they did things, including bad things! If you can't do that, shun other people from doing it, and therefore you are completely cut off from your species' entire backstory and have no frame of reference for anything at all, you're going to end up an idiot. Guaranteed.

Anyway: yet again, people talking about history (or fiction, or anything at all) in a complex way that takes into account the fact that uh, people have never been perfect in their entire existence does not mean that the person is Bad or Supports All The Evils of Human History or whatever. I'm not sure what this attempted-gotcha "don't you know they were a bad person!!!" is going to accomplish, other than giving someone the same kind of fleeting self-righteousness high that comes from Being More Correct On The Internet (or wherever), but like... if you like studying history, and they know you like studying history, I don't know why they would think you don't know that, unless you tragically failed to post a 50-page disclaimer first. And it's stupid, and it's juvenile, and it's not useful, and I think you're entitled to say much of what I've said above, in whatever amount you please, because yeah. Sheesh.

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Note: this is a completed project but I’ve had major problems posting on tumblr from my laptop! I’m not sure why. If anyone who sees this is interested, I also posted the fic on Archive Of Our Own 🫶🏻

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Pedro is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 2:

Now, I've made some blunders before. Mostly calling talent by the wrong name, which is a big mistake when dealing with big personalities. But I've tripped a few times, spilled a few things, and I even broke a glass in the middle of a take.

Yet somehow, none of those things compare to this.

Treating the lead as if he was a PA? Telling him he needs to get a walkie ?

The thought makes me sprint even harder toward the sound stage. Once inside, I scan the area as quickly as I can. There's at least a hundred people in here now and the more I push past, the more I realize they are turning to look at me disapprovingly. I really should find a new shirt first, but it can wait.

"Lana!" I shout when I catch a glimpse of one of her classic colorful scarves. I can see the bright fabric tied in a bow on top of her curly head of hair, but she doesn't turn around.

"LANA!" This time several people, Lana included, turn around.

"Hey!" She runs up to me and sweeps me in a hug, before pulling back with an uncharacteristically miserable expression. "Why are you all wet? Ava, I can see your bra." She pokes my visible white strap.

I swat her away. "Just wait. That is the least of my worries."

I explain the situation, visibly cringing as I await her reaction.

In typical Lana fashion, she bursts into musical hysterics. She covers her mouth when she notices how pained my expression is.

"Lana, I am this close to panicking. You don't think he'll complain, do you?"

"No, no he won't complain. You said he was relatively cool about it, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, he didn't even correct me."

"Exactly. You know if it was one of the Marvel guys from our last picture, you might be in trouble. But from the sounds of it, he probably won't even remember it by tomorrow."

"Yeah..." Why did that idea not make me feel any better?

Lana is snickering again. "You know I sent you the cast list like a month ago, right? How do you of all people not recognize Javi Gutierrez?"

I lower my voice. "You know I'm not an indie movie fanatic."

"I know. It's your fatal friendship flaw. But he was on a bunch of shows, too!"

"I haven't had time for TV with school! Movies are less commitment. Don't scold me in my time of need." I wack her arm.

"Fine, fine," She holds her hands up in defeat. "But seriously Ava, unless you want to continue to give us all a free show you should really get another shirt. I have to get these mics up and running, but go to wardrobe and find Barb."

She's right. The first scene is at 8:00am, and as a sound assistant, Lana has to be ready to mic up the actors as soon as they're out of hair and makeup. I still have to print out scripts for the first few scenes, and I'm really starting to hate the sticky feeling on my stomach.

"Okay, thank you!"

Lana winks at me as I turn and head for the wardrobe trailer on the far side of the lot. Barbra has been on Norwick Productions sets since movies were invented. That is actually the answer she will give a person if they ask how long she's been working. She's the grumpy, tough-love mom I never had. And since Lana is pretty much the only person I hung out with during hiatus, I missed Barb dearly.

Barb's expression pales as soon as she sees me.

"Ava, it's only day one for god's sake."

"Don't worry Barb, Lana already scolded me for you."

"I do like that girl. And I'm guessing you came by to catch up after break, and not simply because you need my help?" She raises a knowing brow.

"Obviously." I flash her a very over-dramatic smile.

"I should give you one of the ratty uniforms from the end of this film for that."

"But you won't, because you love me." I batted my lashes.

"Uh-huh." Barb sighs, disappearing into the depths of the trailer before coming back out with a clean white t-shirt. No fuss, no fake blood.

"You are my guardian angel." I say after swapping the shirts.

"Bring me real coffee tomorrow instead of this crafty crap and we can call it even." She says in a flat tone, and I know she's not kidding.

I give her a quick hug. "It's good to see you Barb."

That makes her chuckle slightly. "You too, kiddo."

I check my watch again. 7:30am. Barely enough time to print out the scripts. I bid Barb a quick goodbye and head to the closest copier.

After kicking it a few times, and uttering several curse words, I got the copier up and running and several copies of today's script printed. I try to skim today's scenes while walking back to the soundstage. I'm beginning to grow curious as to watch is actually happening in this movie. Since we usually shoot scenes out of order, these few pages aren't helping very much.

Back on the soundstage, I spot Lloyd, our director, and walk over to hand him today's pages.

"Ava, welcome back." Lloyd says in his usual artistic drawl. He takes one of the copies from me, flipping through as though looking for something specific, though I know he is barely even skimming the pages.

Part of me is holding my breath, wondering if Javi would have complained to Lloyd or a production manager at this point. I'm not sure when he would have time for that between hair and makeup, but in a world where my mishap today costs me my job, he would find the time.

But, Lloyd is deep in conversation with a cameraman and doesn't spare me another glance. I take that as a good sign, and slowly slink toward the far corner of the room. This way I can still have a good view of the stage without calling too much attention to myself. I can see Lana across the room micing up one of the actors in the scene. Some older gentleman who I heard was popular on a cowboy show that I've never seen. I recognize his face more than I did Javi's, which embarrasses me further, even though the fact is only known to me.

Then, as though the gods of shame were looking down and laughing at me, Javi walks into the large room. I quickly open the first scene's pages to see if I can figure out whom he is playing. That, and so I can take my mind off of how he looks even more attractive in costume. I steal a glance up from the pages and see Lana micing him up now. He's smiling warmly at her, and she chuckles at something he said. Lana tends to laugh at most things, but I can't help but wonder what words were being passed between them.

The two men step onto the CIA set together, both dressed in impeccably tailored suits, making light conversation. Now is my que to bring them their copy of the pages for a final once-over before we roll the cameras. I inhale deeply and set my shoulders back.

Don't be intimidated, Ava. You can't embarrass yourself any worse than you already have.

Well, I know that last part isn't true. But I repeat it to myself all the same.

I walk up to the men, handing them each a copy with a smile.

The older gentleman gives me a friendly nod as he takes the script. Javi gives me the same smile he gave Lana a few minutes prior. I'm turning to leave, and I'm surprised when he says, "Thank you, Ava."

I pause, half out of surprise that he remembered my name, and half over the hesitation of wondering if I should apologize for earlier. But his attention is already on the pages, and there are so many people around to hear me admit my mistakes. I decide against it.

- - -

After we shoot the first few takes, I think I'm starting to piece together what the film is about. In the way that it is not unlike most other spy films I've seen. Older Cowboy, whose real name is still evading me, has a small role as the experienced head of the CIA who brings on Javi's character, a real loose cannon, despite his reservations. There is something about a kidnapping of Javi's lover that makes him "too close to the case," but he lies about his involvement with the woman to make sure he can be the one to save her. I'm assuming that is when we will be in Italy. Spy movies love a good ol' car chase in Europe.

I'm not blown away by the originality of the script or anything, but I'm still engaged in the scene even on their tenth take. I realize that Javi is actually quite talented. I'm only ever engaged in a scene if the actors are talented. That, or if Lloyd is having a breakdown.

I spend the rest of the scene trying not to notice just how well tailored that suit is on Javi. I never leer at the talent, but I always appreciate a good-looking man in a suit. Plus, there is something different about him. He has a kindness to him that I haven't seen with other actors. We've been working with a lot of big names recently, so maybe I've just become disillusioned. Even still, I know some lesser actors who would've complained about my assumption early, even if they painted it as a joke. They would never want me to fully live it down. But not Javi. At least, not so far.

When they call for a break, I decided it would be best to fulfill some of my other duties on another part of the lot.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I try to stay away from the soundstage, knowing that they will be working with Javi for the next few hours. I check my watch for the umpteenth today, and I crack a smile when I realize we only have about an hour left. My last stop is Emma Madden's trailer, our leading lady. And then I finally get to drive home and sleep.

I hadn't met Emma before, but similar to Javi, she isn't in the same celebrity category as our last film, so she seems much friendlier. I got a call on my walkie letting me know there was an issue with her food, and with not much else to go off of, I figured I might be in for a celebrity meltdown. However, when I got here, she let me know that she is severely allergic to mustard, and was afraid to touch the sandwich that had been dropped off to her. Sure, maybe it was a little 'Hollywood' for her to have me come and throw it in the garbage for her, but she was pretty apologetic about it.

"Thank you so much, Anna." She says with her knees brought up to her chest, as if she was shielding her center from the turkey sandwich springing back up out of the trash. Her expression is worried and her tone is so sincere that I don't correct her. Not that I would have otherwise.

"Not a problem Ms. Madden." I dust off sesame seeds from my palms.

"Oh please, call me Emma." She smiled at me now, and I couldn't help but like her a little.

"I know a mustard allergy is like, totally random, but it's actually pretty bad. I have an epipen and everything." I know she must be at least thirty years old, but her inflection reminds me of a teenager.

"I'll let crafty know. They should have sent you a food preference and allergy sheet to fill out months ago, that's the studio's fault."

"Oh, they did! I completely forgot about that. I figured it was just if you were a picky eater."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, no worries. I'll let them know now." I reach for the doorknob of the trailer.

"Thank you again!" Emma called out as I closed the door behind me.

As I'm finally able to drop off my walkie for the day, I run through all the ways that Emma's Mustard Mayhem could have cost the studio hundreds of thousands of dollars. How did they start production without having her sign a waiver? Why did no one double check that all the talent had sent in their allergy lists? If she were a higher profile celebrity, this could have been a huge issue. But as usual, these are the scenarios I keep to myself. And as I drive home, I try to run through only mustard scenarios, and ignore any that pop up with another actor in mind.

Series Masterlist

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I thought you loved me pt.3 | {SaneGiyuu/SaneKana}

Theme: Angst!!!

Note: ...I forgot most of what happened in the first 2 parts so it might not be completely accurate 😭

the ending was supposed to be diff but honestly I couldn't bother

×××

Previously:

Shock filtered through Giyuu's expression and he hovered behind the other two as they crowded around the fallen Hashira

×××

Kanae was dead. The news had drifted to the other Hashira in a sort of numb daze. Many Hashira in the past had died before, there wasn't a doubt about it. But this was the first Hashira of recent to have died since Gyomei had become a Hashira and it came as a shock.

Nevertheless, they had to keep going. And they had to move on.

Sanemi and Shinobu, however, were apt on not moving on. They couldn't do it. They didn't know how. And Giyuu felt like they were his responsibility now. Because he had been there when they had found Kanae, because he, Sanemi, and Kanae had been in some sort of relationship crisis right before, because Shinobu was young and Sanemi was also suffering, because he felt the need to be helpful. So he followed them around, offering to help at any chance he got and trying his best to keep them up and going. 

Then there was the question of their relationship. Whenever he thought about it, Giyuu felt guilty. For thinking about stupid things like that admist the post-death grieving. Yet his mind was somehow stuck on it and it was incredibly selfish of him to be fretting about whether or not Sanemi liked him when both Sanemi and Shinobu had lost someone so dear to them. Stupid, that's what he was. Giyuu was an idiot. So he didn't bring the topic up again, not for a while. Not until months later when Shinobu could finally flash an actual smile, though brief it was. Not until Sanemi could talk about Kanae without sounding like he was going to break that very second.

Giyuu had waited. For so long. And he hated thinking like this, thinking as if he was the victim here. But his mind refused to put it any other way. He longed to know if Sanemi could chance him a glimpse of affection once more. He longed for it, though he knew his chance was slim. There wasn't any way Sanemi could be caught up with Giyuu after the death of his girlfriend—after openly saying that he hated Giyuu, be it true or naught. But he couldn't resist asking—couldn't resist seeing if there was maybe a small part of Sanemi ready to let Giyuu in.

He asked it casually. Brought up the topic of Obanai distinctly obvious crushing and steered the conversation towards their own relationship status. But Sanemi didn't seem to get the hint, or was just pretending he didn't understand. Eventually, Giyuu opted to just outright ask, though it pained him to think back on how rude he was probably being. He couldn't help it, though. He couldn't stay in suspense for much longer. It didn't matter if he already knew he'd have little to no way of getting with Sanemi. He just needed confirmation.

In the end, he was blunt. "Do you still (still? do you, at all?) like me, Shinazugawa?" Giyuu asked.

Sanemi actually recoiled, as if the question had hit him. Giyuu couldn't tell if he should be offended or not. Then again, it was still quite random, despite the conversation's topic.

"I... In what way?" Sanemi asked tentatively. "If you mean, am I your friend, then ye-"

Giyuu wasn't one to interrupt too much, mostly because he rarely spoke, but he couldn't wait any longer. "Romantically," he corrected. "Do you?"

He sounded impatient. Childish. God, he was so pathetic. No doubt he would try not to cry if Sanemi delivered a 'no,' despite knowing that it was the obvious answer. This was stupid.

But there was no answer. Sanemi only blinked, as if trying to figure something out. They stared at each other for a couple minutes until Giyuu grew increasingly worried he'd said something wrong. 

"Should I leave?" he mumbled. He would leave anyway. "I'm sorry."

"No- No, don't be sorry," Sanemi said quickly. They had been sitting across from each other after training, deciding they would eat lunch in a little. He stood now, as if trying to stop Giyuu from leaving. Then he paused and sat back down, realizing Giyuu hadn't moved yet. "You don't have to leave."

No? Giyuu frowned. "Then can you answer my question?" he asked. 

Sanemi hesitated, biting his lip. "What was it again?"

"Do you like me romantically? I'm sorry for bringing it up again, but before Kanae's... ah... her passing, we spoke of you deciding whether you would stay with her or date me. I realize I'm being unfair, given she's not here to... be much of a choice, anymore, so if you're prefer putting it all behind us and ignoring that it ever happened, that's alright. I'm aware of the probable chance you'll decide to stay loyal to her or just not like me at all, which I fully understand. I do not mind if you decide it," Giyuu said. He spoke quickly, trying to get over it. He wanted Sanemi to make sure to know that he wasn't going to throw a tantrum if he was rejected. In fact, he fully expected rejection and was quite perplexed by not being given an immediate no.

Following his speech, Sanemi simply stared at the ground as if rethinking his life choices. Which he was, in fact, doing. On one hand, he was set on not pursueing anyone else so soon after Kanae's death, or even at all. On the other hand, he so dearly wanted someone to hold him as a lover, to just be there with and for him. And he did, really, love Giyuu. Or like. He wasn't sure. But he did find himself drawn to the mysterious quiet guy whom he'd kissed. He just didn't know what he should do. What if he messed things up again? His last times with Kanae hadn't been as enjoyable knowing that she thought he loved another man more than her. And it had been his fault. What were to happen if he fucked things up for Giyuu, too? In fact, he believed himself worse than his own father in some ways. At least Kyogo had never went and kissed another woman. Though he was certainly not a good example, he had never strayed from the family—as much as he harmed them. So what the fuck was wrong with Sanemi?

Minutes ticked by in silence as Giyuu waited and Sanemi's mulled over his thoughts, going around and around in circles without progress. Eventually, Giyuu took the silence as brutal rejection and started to stand.

"I apologize for taking up your time, Shinazugawa," he murmured. "I'll take my leave now."

Sanemi, who had been deep in thought, was startled out of his mind. He jolted, looking up. "Wait, Tomioka, no-" he hurried, grabbing Giyuu's wrist. 

Giyuu gazed at him. "If you don't wish to be in my presence, I don't take it personally. Just tell me no, Shinazugawa. I don't want to think there's any hope left. Please." There was a touch of desperation in his voice, though he kept it at level as best he could. "I'm sorry."

"No," Sanemi repeated. 

Giyuu tilted his head. "Hm?"

"I mean, don't leave. And don't be sorry," Sanemi clarified, letting out a breath. "I'm sorry, I... Can I have some time to think about this?"

Giyuu paused, then nodded. "Of course." Think about it? What did he have to think about? Couldn't he just say no? Or was he trying to be a gentleman and let him down gently? 

Sanemi let go of his arm, nodding back and offering him a tentative smile. "Thanks."

×××

Nobody would blame him if he said no. Nobody would blame him if he said that he preferred to keep Kanae in mind, though she wasn't coming back. Nobody would blame him if he said he wasn't interested in relationships anymore. Nobody but himself.

Honestly, Sanemi wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted nothing; he wanted everything. But he felt that if he turned down Giyuu's offer (which had been quite vague, really, and he might've been reading it wrong, but it seemed to be an ask to date?) he could never forgive himself. He felt like he would regret it if he let Giyuu go, too. That Giyuu would disappear from his life if he say no. And he didn't want that. Yes, he wanted Giyuu. But he needed a little space. In a way that wouldn't make Giyuu completely reject the idea of being with him ever again. He knew that saying no would do that, it would. That's the kind of person Giyuu was.

So he waited a couple days until he could get his thoughts under control. He made sure he was certain with his response, made sure he wouldn't regret it as far as he could control. Then he found Giyuu again.

It wasn't hard to find him, somehow. As if Sanemi had somehow learned Giyuu's daily life in the brief times he got a glimpse of it. 

He caught Giyuu as the latter left a store around noon. 

"Hey- Uhm, Tomioka!" Sanemi called out, rushing up to him the second he spotted the mismatched haori.

Giyuu turned, surprised though his expression scarcely changed. "Ah. Shinazugawa?"

Sanemi fell into step with him as they made their way down a road. "Hey."

"Do you need anything?"

Sanemi nodded slowly. "Yeah. Uh... A couple days ago? When you asked me that, did you mean you still like me and would be willing to be in a... relationship with me?"

Giyuu gave a short nod, keeping his gaze ahead.

"Right. So, I said I would think about it, and I did. I don't really know how to, uh, say it, so... Let's put it like this," Sanemi rambled. God, he sounded like an absolute idiot. "I am... also willing to... yeah. Be in a relationship. With... you."

Giyuu actually froze and Sanemi almost ran into him.

"Oi- What the hell?" Sanemi grumbled, righting himself.

Giyuu turned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." It sounded more appropriate than 'yeah.' As if it finalized things. Less casual. "I'm sure. I thought about it, and I'm... sure. Now."

"Oh."

"As long as you're still alright with it—for all I know, you changed you mind," Sanemi rushed to add, feeling heat flicker at his cheeks. Oh god, what if Giyuu had changed his mind and this was all for nought?

Giyuu nodded slowly. "Yes, I am. Oh—I still want to date you, I mean," he explained at Sanemi's horror-stricken expression.

"Oh. Okay. Good," Sanemi said, sighing. "So... so are we dating now?"

"If you want."

"Ye- Yes. Yes, I do," he agreed. "I do."

Giyuu paused. "Can I ask about Kanae?"

"...Okay."

"I'm sure you have feelings for her, too, still. And I don't want you dating me only because I'm the only option left, because she's... gone," Giyuu said quietly. He sounded uncertain now, as if it had just hit him.

Sanemi's eyes physically widened, as if he had never thought about this. "What?"

"Before, when she was alive, it was clear you favored her. Anyone could tell. You two were actually dating, we only had... a fleeting kiss. And maybe what I felt was worth more than the one kiss, but I don't want you dating me just because I'm the only one willing to." He turned away, staring at the ground.

"Oh." The words echoes in Sanemi's mind. Was that why he wanted to be with Giyuu? It could make sense. But he had wanted to be with Giyuu before, right? Right??

Neither spoke for a long time and they just stood there, unsure what to do. Then Giyuu let out a breath.

"Think about it," he mumbled. "I'll go now."

Sanemi was too lost in thought to answer, though he gave a quick nod in farewell. Giyuu was gone before he started walking again. He didn't really know what to think of it. On one hand, he doubted this was the case. On the other, what if it was and he was simply trying to deny it? It wouldn't be far-fetched, anyhow. Before Kanae's death, he had considered Giyuu more than a one-time thing. But it could've been experimentation. And now that Kanae was gone, he was using Giyuu as a shoulder to lean on. For comfort or love? What was it?

It had to be love. It had to.

It was. Right?

×××

« Word count: 2077 »

y'all if you actually want a pt.4 i can write one but i'm honestly done with having this in my drafts for months.

[throneofsapphics]

Hello!

I saw your answer to what makes you click away from a fic and you answered with ableist/racist/homophobic themes and I was wondering if it depends on context or if genuinely is an immediate click-off?

Like if it’s poly-Feysand and a background character makes a comment about two females being together is that enough to make you click away? If it’s a fic that intentionally chooses to bring up those themes in attempts to tackle them?

Or is it more the case you just aren’t really interested in reading stuff like that in fanfiction point blank because that’s not why you’re reading fics in the first place?

I saw it and I was just really curious so I’d love to hear your answer!! Sorry if this is a odd question, I hope it wasn’t uncomfortable ❤️

Hi thank you so much for asking! This isn't odd at all and it didn't make me uncomfortable, this is an important topic and I hope I've answered it in a way that makes sense!

I'll absolutely read fics that tackle those issues, and I've written about them in the past too (mostly homophobia, considering I haven't lived those other experiences and wouldn't feel comfortable writing about them extensively.)

Themes was the wrong word, and I meant either seeing discovering things outright about a writer, or it showing up in their narrative. I don't have any specific fics popping into my mind right now, but it's a general feeling I get when reading that makes my skin crawl. A general examples is if an author gives a character a disability and uses that to make them inferior, or instead of tackling those themes has their characters constantly reinforcing or validating them.

It could be an incredibly compelling story with great writing but as soon as I get that feeling it immediately turns me off it.

It probably applies more to different books I'm reading rather than fanfiction, but I remember once several years ago I was reading a really interesting story (not sjm), and saw in the author's bio that they didn't write homosexual relationships with the mc because they think it ruins a good fanfiction ... I completely understand not writing that but the second part made me click off that one and never read from the author again.

I'll also note this is something I've had to learn how to recognize over time, and if y'all ever notice something that seems off in one of my stories please, please, please tell me it's not intentional and something I want to hold myself accountable for and correct immediately.

[saphofthehollow]

PEOPLE I'M ONCE AGAIN REELING!!!!

I just finished A Curse for True Love and if y'all DON'T WANT SPOILERS THEN LOOK AWAY!!!!

I'm not entirely sure where to begin. I've had a teensy tiny difficult time getting into this series. From the first book to the third and final one, I've always picked it up, read the first couple chapters or so, out it down and needed to just take a break for a little while before getting back to it. However, I do think that's moreso because I always get hung up on the book I finished prior to starting a new one so I probably just needed time to process everything from my last read before getting into a new one but I never learn my lesson, so I just end up picking up a new one and putting it down for a while.

I didn't really get into the vibes of the trilogy until I was halfway through the first book, Once Upon a Broken Heart. That one was also a 4 star read for me. The Ballad of Never After was a 5 star and I'm certain anyone who has read the book and liked it can understand why.

Coming back to A Curse for True Love, it was again a 4 star read for me. Evangeline as a character has definitely shown development throughout the trilogy. She's undoubtedly grown from her naivety shown in the first book to understanding and judging people better in the second and third books in my opinion. We also got to see Jacks's development throughout the trilogy from his damn care attitude to actually getting his brief insights on events from past books as well as how much he loves Evangeline and wishes to protect her even if it's from himself.

Now coming to Apollo, I believe a part of me gets his behavior. He was betrayed by his friend who made him fall for Evangeline, he is out in a suspended sleep and when he does finally wake up, he's under the Archer's curse and the mirror curse where he is trying to get to his wife but the first curse makes him want to kill her. A part of me is able to understand how it must've been for him to go through all of that only to come back and see not only did his wife choose the man who betrayed Apollo's trust but his entire kingdom only mourned him for a week at best. I can sympathize with him a little for that.

But yeah no I still hate Apollo's guts.

Alright now this following part is where I think people would agree with me on. At least I hope so because if not, what the fuck is wrong with you?

First of all, this book is about Evangeline and Jacks, right? Then why did we get so little with both of them together? We have Jacks watching over Eva and protecting her when her memories are lost. We have him teaching her a little bit of self-defense. We have him killing that assasin and that moment in the hallway. Then we have the time in the Cursed Forest and the inn. After that it was the almost kiss between them stopped by the cuff and Castor taking Eva away to the meeting place with LaLa. Then it's the Phoenix tree and the Tree of Souls bit. And it's done. Do correct me if I'm missing something. I just... It didn't feel enough enough, you get me? Where was the insurmountable passion? Where was the obsession? Where was the possessiveness we know that Fates are capable of? Don't get me wrong, I still loved every bit of the EvaJacks moments we got but I needed more!!!!

Also, where was Luc? Where was Marisol? Where was Tiberius? What happened to them? They were major parts of the plotline in the previous two books but we only got fleeting mentions of Luc and Tiberius and I'm not entirely sure I caught any mentions of Marisol.

Additionally, can we please talk about LaLa? LaLa only came in towards the end of the book and I feel like we didn't get much of her either. Oh and Castor! The tension between Castor and LaLa?! I feel like I need a book on those two and we only caught like one scene with those two together. I need to know what happened between LaLa and Dane and how, if at all, things would work between LaLa and Castor given her being the Unwed Bride and Castor being the brother of her true love.

There were quite a lot of the Magnificent North for us to still explore too. There was undoubtedly a variety of things that could've been delved into from the legends, the places, the various stories that were twisted by the story curse and whatnot. There could've been so much more added to the plotline.

You know what we did get a lot of? Apollo. He was here, he was there. He was EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE!!! I won't lie, I did like getting some insight into his thoughts and feelings but I would've loved more of Jacks and even more of our EvaJacks. And yet, at one point, it partly felt as if Apollo was the main character and Jacks was a side character with how much interaction there was between Eva and Apollo compared to Eva and Jacks.

Overall, however, I did quite like the book. Despite all of the points I've mentioned above, I still feel that Stephanie Garber has to an extent lived up to the hype that the third book got after people read The Ballad of Never After. For me, The Ballad of Never After would be the best book in the trilogy but I cannot help but admit that the author has done a remarkable job at giving us a final book that did give us a good plotline, great character development and a beautiful happily ever after especially given that, it's difficult to be able to live up to the hype your books have garnered from the audience and the fear of disappointing your readers. As such, this series would be one of the few I'll always recommend.

I loved this trilogy, loved the world and am absolutely head over heels in love with our Eva and Jacks.

Now to move onto a new journey with new characters and plots while I leave this trilogy behind hoping to come back to it again someday in the future with the same enthusiasm, love and affection as I did when I picked it up.