#and it's really not particularly worth considering anyway. But I do it anyway just because

[timbrrwolfe]

Alright I'm /pretty/ sure I already talked about part of this on here (unless it's sitting in my drafts which is also very possible) but I figured I may as well expound on what I was alluding to in the tags of this post.

So in 6th grade I had a habit of forgetting my pencil. Because I had a habit of forgetting a lot of things. Because I had undiagnosed adhd. So, when i was in need of a pencil, I'd sometimes have to borrow one from a teacher. And my homeroom teacher had a policy of requiring collateral when borrowing stuff (which like. Fair enough if he's paying out of pocket for stuff). And in one of those instances I used the book I had out from the school library (Goosebumps: Why I'm Afraid of Bees iirc) as collateral. And then promptly forgot to return the pencil. And somewhere in my kid brain which was terrified of getting in trouble for things, I thought something along the lines of "Oh no, now that book is gonna be out forever and I'll have to pay *gasp* a fine or even for the entire book, I can never use the library again." Which was followed up (at some point) by my bad habit of losing my keys leading to someone finding them and using the library card on them to borrow a bunch of stuff they never took back (including, ironically, a goosebumps dvd we already owned and, for some reason, some book on Hitler). So I stopped using the library nearly as much for a while.

Anyway, in 8th grade I got into a situation that was a confused mess. At my lunch table we were doing some banter, and I was just staring to get comfortable in jumping into these situations (because, as it turns out, I also had undiagnosed autism. Which also explains a lot). Unfortunately, in this particular instance, I made a(n admittedly convoluted) jab at someone that essentially boiled down to calling them ugly. Something along the lines of "your face is like a car crash. Horrifying but I can't look away". Except that instead of my intended target, one of the girls at my table thought I was talking about her and started SCREAMING obscenities at me. At which point I just kinda put my head down instead of like. Trying to explain the situation or any other kind of response. So, because there had been enough of a scene made that the rest of the cafeteria went silent, the teachers on duty naturally came over to find out what happened before fists started potentially flying. And so after some discussion in which I did nothing to defend myself, I ended up getting punished. By....being forced to sit on the outer edge of the cafeteria instead of with friends at the table. But the confusion doesn't end there, no no. See, the teacher (who had been a teacher I'd had) had me pick a number between 1 and 10. And I chose 7. So I had to spend 7 days on...The Perimeter. Except that I wasn't...entirely sure whether that 7 days counted the rest of that lunch period or not. And it was a Friday so that completely threw off my understanding of how long my punishment was going to last. As a bonus, it turns out the punishment wasn't much of one. I didn't mind being on my own, and I even got to get up and get my lunch whenever I wanted, instead of waiting until it was my row's turn to get up and get food. So I just...stayed there for the rest of the year for lunch (at least, when I didn't have "lunch detention" for being late. Which was mostly only a punishment because it limited what I was allowed to eat because for some reason they only let lunch detention kids get the daily hoagie option? I dunno, it was a very strange system. Also, I digress).

My point in this whole story is that if I hadn't gotten spooked out of going to the library (both in-school and public) I probably would've read WAY more books sitting on The Perimeter for lunch for however long the rest of the year was. But instead I was mostly reading gaming magazines and game guides. Which, as an aside, I almost got more out of than playing the games themselves, depending on the game and guide in question. Like, Golden Sun was a pair of RPGs and (thanks to the aforementioned undiagnosed adhd) I did not have the attention span to play through them completely. Still haven't. Maybe someday. But I sure did read through the game guide a bunch. And spent a lot of time daydreaming about having different psynergy and using it in my day to day life. Which is why for a long time I considered Golden Sun one of my favorite games only to put 2 + 2 together when I was older and realize that a lot of my enjoyment was just in the daydreaming about it.

[corfisers]

it is a bit fucked that the main hurdle in this fandom is people not accepting that something that happened in the story was at the very least not consensual. despite explicit "i don't want this" just. being right there. in the text.

[mobbu-min]

☆ erm, let's not do that ☆

requested by anon! Hi there! So i would like to request The overblot gang with a S/O who likes to pick on their fingers whenever they are stressed and considering what Yuu have to go through, they would have a bloody hand if it werent for the fact they use gloves when they are really stressed out. (They dont wear gloves often because it will look weird when it doesnt fit the outfit but will wear it if necessary). So what are the overblot gang (seperate) reactions when he learns why his S/O pick on their fingers and wear gloves? P.s. you are an amazing writer and i love your work, keep up the good work! Hope you have a lovely day/night!

a/n so it's been awhile... how have you guys been? i've been okay, been dealing with post graduation fatigue and depression. been wondering what the hell am i doing with my world and wondering if things are really worth it. i miss bts, i miss jin and hobi and most of all yoongi. i miss the person i used to be. i miss the person that was my rock for a good few years. i wish this whole life thing wasn;t so hard, but! twst makes my brain go brrrr, so that's good i guess lolol. i'm working on stuff dw! and i'll try to post more, so thank you all so much to those who have been waiting! i love you all!!! <333

characters mentioned: overblot boys!

!tw! blood, would this be considered self harm? (an actual question btw)

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ He’s so concerned. Honestly, when he saw the state of your hands, he gasped like some Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

⋆ He’s not the type to beat around the bush, but he’s gentle about it. He’s quick to voice his concern for your health and if there’s any way for him to help you. 

⋆ Knowing that he is part of the cause of your pain, sorta sends him spiraling somewhat. It really makes Riddle want to become a better person after seeing the after effects of his tyranny.

⋆ Whenever Riddle sees you picking at your hands, he kinda swats at your hands like an angry cat. A disappointed pout on his soft features. He really tries okay. 

⋆ Riddle will patch your hand up. He’s so gentle about it too. Holding your hands as if they were blessed by the Queen of Hearts (honestly there’s probably a rule about it)

⋆ He’s taken to holding your hand when you're together. He stutters out a quick ‘I-it’s to help you!’ before dragging you away to study. When you're alone, Riddle has the habit of kissing your hands, mumbling sweet words. 

⋆ Overall, Riddle is concerned but willing to do anything to help you.

“If you ever find the urge to harm yourself, no matter how small, I ask you to seek me out. I will always spare you a moment. Afterall, I care about you, please don’t forget that.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ He noticed the state of your hands the moment he met you, but didn’t mention it until you grew closer. Like Riddle, he doesn’t beat around the bush. But unlike Riddle, Leona is so incredibly blunt.

⋆ After you tell him it’s a habit you’ve picked up after certain events, Leona drops the subject. The both of you are too awkward to keep it going. Afterall, you both knew what events could have led you here. Guilt was quick to snag Leona’s heart.

⋆ He’s not upfront about his emotions. Leona’s quite bad with vocalizing his worries, but he’s always been a firm believer in actions over words anyways.

⋆ Expensive gloves, creams and ointments from his land, heck even fidget toys he’s seen Cheka play with, shows up at your door. Anything he believes that could help you, he’s getting.

⋆ If you’re together and your hands get particularly bad, he’s dragging you to the infirmary to patch you up (he ends up snagging/buying bandages to keep on him just in case after) He doesn’t really talk much, but the sentiment is there.

⋆ Like Riddle, Leona will hold your hands to stop you from picking at your skin. His grip is tight, but not in a way that seems like he’s scolding you or mad, but tight in a way that's comforting. As if saying ‘I’m here.’

‘Oi, stop that… Yeah, I’m aware, but I’m here now. Let’s find other ways to deal with your stress, yeah? (whispering) I think I’ve got a few ideas, if you’re up to it, herbivore~’

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ He beats around the bush. Azul is weirddddd about it.

⋆ On one hand, he’s worried about you. On the other hand, his capitalist side wants to find some way to profit off it. Somehow he manages to quell both sides. (he ends up making hand cream/ointment using like floyd’s mucus thing, rip floyd)

⋆ Azul, despite his incessant need to bottle up his emotions for others, finds it hard to ignore the state of your hands, and likewise state of your health, any longer. He doesn’t know how to approach the topic. Does he ask right away? Should he ease you into it? He, for the first time since his overblot, is lost for words.

⋆ He does eventually get the guts to ask and oh boy, he never knew guilt felt this bad.

⋆ Azul kinda sucks at helping you, he won’t hold your hand (only in private) and he’s kinda frivolous with money (so no expensive gifts) but he’s good with his words. And when he sees you starting to pick at your hands, he immediately starts running his mouth. And he can talk for hours. And he’s entertaining too. Leaving you so enraptured by his words that you forget about the need to pick at your skin.

⋆ He’s always good at always keeping you busy. And no this isn’t some way to get free labor out of you. Typically you help him with paper work, just you and him in his little office.

⋆ Azul may always be boasting about how kind he is outloud, but you both know his true kindness is always quiet.

‘Ah, that’s enough paperwork for today. How about we go to the lounge for a few drinks? There’s plenty more I wish to share with you about the stock market.’

Jamil Viper <3

⋆ He doesn’t notice until you’re hissing in pain from something spicy touching your tender skin (listen i know this does make sense, but trust me, it hurts) He’s confused and worried at first and confused and worried after.

⋆ Jamil scolds you for working without some sort of protection while he tenderly washes your hands.

⋆ I feel like Jamil also has some bad coping habits, so he’s quick to put two and two together. He doesn’t ask, but there is a noticeable shift in his behavior. Jamil is a lot more gentle, not in a demeaning way, but in an awkward ‘I want to help you, but idk how, just please appreciate my efforts’ sorta way.

⋆ Since he still has his duties as Vice Housewarden and Kalim’s aid, he’s pretty tight on time, but he tries his best to spare you a few minutes. And if he can’t, you’ll always find a lunch box sitting on your desk.

⋆ Jamil is always willing to bandage your hands if they get particularly bad. He’ll use healing ointment that smells like home and is as gentle as his voice.

⋆ And while he can’t give you extraordinary gifts or talk for hours on end, Jamil is always ready to lend you a hand to heal your own destruction like how you healed him.

‘Stop squirming so much, I’ll mess up your banadages. -sigh- You really have to start wearing some sort of gloves… Mh? What was that?… You like it when I bandage your hand? E-eh- ahem, well if you like it so much, I might as well start charging you. …Ahaha, I never said thuarmarks, did I?”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ He takes one look at your hand and instantly brings out a 12 step hand routine.

⋆ Listen, he doesn't care if you do it out of stress, he’s going to fix your hands while helping you find better ways to handle it.

⋆ He rubs like this gel liquid thing that tastes bad to prevent you from biting away the skin near your nail (it’s an actual thing don’t worry) He’s pulling all the stops to prevent you from injuring your hands even more than they already are.

⋆ Vil often walks the fine line of being really gentle or really strict about it. And it doesn’t stem from his perfection issues, he is just kinda bad at expressing his emotions in a way that is both productive and compassionate. He does care, you’ll just have to look for hidden meanings in his long lectures.

⋆ No doubt, Vil is getting both of you matching gloves with your signature colors as accents.

⋆ The whole 12 step hand routine actually does become routine for the both of you. Typically taking place at Pomefiore, you’ll both talk about your day. Vil sees this as a way to check off all three boxes.

⋆ He gets to do his nightly hand routine.

⋆ You're improving day by day from talking about your emotions with him.

⋆ And he gets to spend one on one time with you!

⋆ It's a win-win situation! And your hands have never been softer!

‘And Epel just had to prove his point, which ended up with him casting a Zip Tight Spell on him. Despite not even being able to move his mouth, I could tell there was so much anger running though his little body. Goodness, how ridicu-hm? Did my little spudling fall asleep? How rude~ -sigh- Sweet dreams, darling~’

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ It’s Ortho that brings up your problem. Worry evident in his voice as he showed pictures of your hands to his big brother.

⋆ Despite being gaming buddies, Idia really never paid attention to your outer appearance. Too preoccupied in his desire to beat you at every game you both play.

⋆ And poor Idia, guilt grabs him by his long ass hair and flings his lanky body across the room multiple times (not really, but in Idia’s head that what's happening)

⋆ Unlike all of the others mentioned, Idia’s way of help is rather unconventional. He’s not good at talking nor is he good at physical touch, but you know what he is good at? Yeah, making things.

⋆ After a long night, Idia shows up at Ramshackle holding a small box. What is in the box? Well your own personal health robocat! This cat is kinda like Ortho just to a lesser degree (think of the robocat seven made mc!)

⋆ Listen, he knows he’s severely lacking in multiple departments of this whole dating, heck even friend, thing, but he is trying! And RoboCat is the ultimate form of his love! It’s quite romantic really.

⋆ Is Grim happy about the new intruder? No! But your health is more important than his feelings!

⋆ Idia swears he died of pure happiness at your expression. His two favorite things together!? Eek! It’s too much!

‘A-and next time you find yourself in trouble, just c-call for Robocat and she’ll come flying!… A laser beam like Ortho? Good idea! I’ll make sure to add it in her name update!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ His heart aches to see the pain you put yourself through. If it was up to him, he’d simply whisk you away to a place where no stress could muddle your beautiful mind. If he could, he would kill stress itself.

⋆ But alas, he can’t kill something that doesn’t have a physical form, how sad~ (lilia had to convince him not to go after Crowley)

⋆ Malleus is doing everything he can to help you. Just name it and he’s doing it.

⋆ Multiple gloves made of the finest materials? Got it!

⋆ Healing ointment from the farthest land made from an extinct organism? Done!

⋆ The heads of your enemies? Why didn’t you say so sooner!

⋆ He’s so silly ahahaha.

⋆ But seriously, Malleus sorta never feels stressed (he does, just thinks stress is a human emotion that only humans can feel) but he’s always willing to listen to you. Afterall, you’re always willing to lend your ears to him, it’s the bare minimum.

⋆ Advice? It’s so-so, sometimes he comes off vague but that really just because of his faeness. But he tries and is actively trying to be better, trying to be more intune with your emotions and his. (lilia has been great help, and surprisingly enough, watching silver and sebek on a more friendly level has also helped him be more in tune with emotions)

⋆ You shouldn't have to suffer in silence and he’ll make sure you never will for as long as the universe will let him.

‘You’ve been such a good companion, my dearest child of man, so please let me return the favor. Allow me to see the deepest parts of your soul, of your mind and heart. If you fear that I will cast judgment, do not. I could never judge the soul that has welcomed me with an open heart.’

[theminecraftbee]

okay, okay, superhero au concept of the day: soup group identity shenanigans au. the soup group all rent a house together, they became friends... i don't know when, still figuring this out, but they're all buddies. however, they're all involved in the hero scene in their own way, and everyone's levels of knowing how involved in the hero scene they are is varied.

impulse is a relatively new hero (name pending), after an accident at his desk job somehow left him with electricity-based powers. he's kind of awkward and new at the whole gig, but he is determined to do his best! he is keeping his identity secret to keep what he thinks are his two civilian housemates safe, as well as to keep his other friends safe. he's a bit over his head but he mostly fights low-level villains at the moment anyway. he knows the least information of everybody but he's ALSO the most likely to have a crisis if he learns anything about his housemates.

pearl is a vigilante known as the cleaning lady. she's not so much an active combatant most of the time as someone who takes advantage of existing fights and crime scenes for her own ends, helping to make sure she puts down criminals and collects information from the aftermath. she'll help either side in order to meet her goal of cleaning up the city from the chaos it's currently in, and she dislikes most serious crime, she just... goes about it in a way most heroes do not agree with. she's figured out impulse's identity and avoids him in her night work because she's certain he'd clock her immediately. as for the red deer... she's worked with her once or twice and is kind of terrified, but doesn't know her identity at all.

gem is the soup group's mysteriously rich friend who is the one helping them rent the house together. really it would be suspicious she was renting with the kind of money her job makes and how much she can afford with what she supposedly actually makes if both pearl and impulse weren't so busy hiding their identities. and gem's glad! she's excited to have friends she can play civilian with--that doesn't normally last this long! because gem is the terrifying mercenary and hitman for hire, the red deer. compared to both impulse and pearl (who are normally considered small-time), gem is considered a "if you are not specifically pseudo-hawk, do not engage" level threat. she's particularly known for, if her job is to take down someone interesting, handing them a weapon and letting them have a "fair fight" back. only pseudo-hawk (real name false symmetry) has held her off before. the rest of her targets go home in body bags, and she gets her money. she rarely actually kills someone who ISN'T a target, but she still hurts them enough to keep them out of the way if they try to interfere.

and gem... gem knows EXACTLY who her housemates are. she's keeping an eye on the chatter about them, too. right now, no one who wants their head is offering the kind of money the red deer is worth, of course, so she doesn't have to worry. her status as one of the most dangerous villains in the city remains safe, and she can have her civilian friends, especially since she's pretty sure they don't know who she is! but if any of that falls apart. if they find her identity. if impulse manages to piss off an actually powerful villain, or pearl finally steps on the toes of a gang that can do something about her... well. well. gem... doesn't miss a target. and it would be fun! it would be... something, at least. she's starting to not be sure what she'd do, and that's... dangerous, in her line of work.

but the thing is, it's nice sharing a house, the three of them. surely, the weight of everyone's respective secrets and allegiances won't collapse around them!

...right?

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

Hiya, as you have requests open could you do some headcannons (sfw and NSFW perhaps?) for Charlie, Velvette & Verosika dating a male! reader who's on the insecure/shy side?

"Good Boy" ; Charlie Morningstar, Velvette, Verosika Mayday

SFW:

She's the absolute sweetest, my god. Every day, praising everything she sees about you, letting you know how much she loves you, giving you soft hugs and shoulder rubs...

Since you're on the shyer side, she'd always make sure to ask if you're comfortable coming to social events with her.

If so, she'll bring you along and not force you to interact, but introduce you as her boyfriend if you're comfortable with it. But if not? No problem! She can either go by herself or you two can have a night in.

She's also constantly encouraging you to put yourself out there, because if people don't love you for who you are the way she does, good! They didn't deserve you, anyways.

"It'll be okay, S/O! You're so amazing, they're bound to love you! And hey, what's the worst that could happen?"

She totally understands if you're not comfortable doing all that, though. She'll give you her jacket and calmly comfort you.

Plus, her cuddles are really amazing. She'll hold you on her chest and kiss your forehead and all over your face, reminding you just how much she loves you.

And she loves those smaller intimate gestures. Comparing hand sizes, neck kisses and nuzzles, and the like.

NSFW:

Soft dom. Straight up.

Lots of praise, kisses, promises and declarations of love as she guides you in and out of her cunt, usually riding you so you don't have to put too much effort into it to be pleased.

Charlie is most definitely a service top, she gets off on your pleasure.

Seriously, blowjobs, handjobs, just about anything, she gets pleasure out of it when she makes you feel good.

Definitely a praiser in bed.

"You're doing so well, S/O, good boy! I'm so proud of you..."

Honestly, the easiest way to turn her on as her partner is to call her "Charlotte". She doesn't like it when people who aren't close to her do it, but when you do it? It's like flipping a switch in her head.

Her tongue is extendable and prehensile. She can make it just about as long as she wants and curl around just about anything, including your dick. And she won't have any second thoughts, either.

Sometimes, if you piss her off beforehand, she'll be a tad more rough, and the demon form may come to play. The horns, the tail, the sharper fangs, the inverted eye colors with slit pupils, the whole shebang.

But afterwards, it's right back to soft and loving, gentle Charlie.

She's a pro at aftercare, luckily, and she makes sure your every need and want is met. :)

SFW:

She's not the nicest to just about anyone, and you're no exception. Sure, she's nicer by comparison, but she can hardly be considered polite.

Still, though, she has those rare moments where she'll actually show you that she loves and appreciates you, as selfish and rude as she is.

For example, a quick peck on the cheek after she's done something particularly obnoxious, or ranting to you before a big show she's nervous about.

"That fuckin' bitch can't even be bothered to fix that rat's nest on her head for the big event, and now I have to pull the rest of the girls together!"

Of course, she wouldn't tell you if she didn't trust you and love you. She wouldn't think it's worth it to bare the way she feels so openly.

She'd probably try to convince you to model for her to boost your confidence. If you did, she'd be considerably nicer to you than all her other models, for obvious reasons.

After all, she isn't dating any of her other models. They aren't any of her concern.

If you refuse, she'll be pouty for a bit, but eventually begrudgingly accept it, although she'll let you know that she's still not happy about it.

NSFW:

Mean dom, oh my god. Like, full on bordering on dominatrix, punishment and all.

Obviously, of course there's a safeword and consent is always implied. She's a lot of things, but she's all for consent.

That doesn't mean you don't have to be a bit of a masochist to fuck her, though. She'll make you please her first, fingering her, eating her out, or something along those lines, chasing her own pleasure before she thinks of pleasing you in return. And even then, it all depends on how she thinks you did.

"Mm~... Fuck, you love this, don't you~? Dirty little slut~."

Yeah, she has a thing for dirty talk, degradation (giving), and she probably has a mild Mommy, Mistress, or pet play kink, honestly. But the odds are she will never bottom. For you or for anyone else.

I could also weirdly see her being into choking or some other kink that gives her complete power over you.

But of course, at the end of the day, she still loves you very much, and she'll never not let you cum.

Even though she teases and edges for up to hours before she actually gives in and gives you what you so desperately need...

SFW:

Honestly, Verosika is a really sweet girlfriend, although it does take her a little while to actually start showing you that side of herself.

She's had bad relationships in the past, namely with Blitzø, so she's still recovering from that and learning not to put all her eggs in one basket. Or more accurately, not to put all her faith in a brand new relationship.

But honestly, once she's over that? You're basically fully integrated into her life. Her posse loves you, you're basically one of them.

And thanks to dating Verosika, Vortex is also usually helping to protect you. What kind of bodyguard would he be if he couldn't protect his boss' boyfriend, too? Especially when he's never seen her so happy before.

"Heya, gang. This is S/O, my boyfriend~. Isn't he hot~?"

Of course, the group immediately accepts you, absolutely adoring the fact that you make Verosika so happy and feel so loved and cherished.

NSFW:

More of a switch, to be honest? Like, even as she maintains her usual persona, she's encouraging you to thrust into her, to fuck her hard, etc.

Like, she isn't outright domming you, but she also isn't subbing, she's kind of somewhere right in the middle of that, trying to encourage you.

She's a succubus, so her method of trying to give you confidence is to make you feel sexually desired, which is why she never holds back any noises you make her make at all. She wants you to know you're the one doing that to her.

"A-Ahn~... Oh, S/O... Right there, baby boy~... Yes, fuck, ngh... So good~..."

After all, if you can successfully please not just any succubus, but the Verosika Mayday, herself? That's got to do something for your self-esteem, right?

Besides, she's a succubus. She's really good at pleasuring people, and like Charlie, her tongue is extendable and prehensile, thanks to the whole 'succubus' thing.

She's someone who doesn't mind being heard even from outside the bedroom. After all, why should she be ashamed that her boyfriend makes her feel so wonderful, and that she does the same for him in return? Nothing shameful about it.

[forever-rogue]

Okay but imagine when (nurse!steve) reader gives birth and literally all of the nurses are so excited because todays the day!!!!

It's a long and painful labour but once the baby girl's here and checked over and the two of you have spent some time bonding with her - reader rolls her eyes and says "go on, go show her off" and steve whispers that they'll be right back and he cradles baby against his chest, carrying her out to his ward with hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Literally all of the nurses gush over her and it distrupts the entire hospital, everyone wanting to get a glimps of Baby Harrington. Steve cries the whole time and just can't believe how lucky he is.

AN | Nurse Steve finally getting to meet his baby girl and getting to show her off! What a dream, I am so soft 🥺

Warnings | Mild Language, Nondescript mentions of labor/delivery

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve thought he’d prepared for this moment. Really, he’d done a lot of reading, research, and mental preparation. He’d been in on several emergency births and c-sections, and was sure he had seen it all. 

But it all was so incredibly different when it was his wife in labor, when it was his baby girl being born. 

It was like everything in his mind had flown out the window and he was learning everything for the first time. All he could do now was to hope he was being a good and supportive husband.

“You are never touching me again.”

Okay, maybe he could do a better job. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d been in labor for several hours and seemed to be in a lot of pain and stress. Understandably, of course.

“You’re doing so well, angel,” he was sitting at your side and holding your hand, wishing there was something he could, “you’re almost there - she’s almost here.”

“Steven,” you turned your head to look at him, a pathetic little expression, “I don’t want to do this - I can’t do this. I’m not ready for her.”

“You can do this,” he insisted softly, “I have no doubt about that.”

“I can’t be a mom,” you ran a hand over your tired face, grimacing as another contraction came on, “I’m scared.”

“I know it’s scary,” he cooed as he touched your face, gently stroking your cheek, “and we’ll fuck it up along the way but that’s okay. None of that matter because we’ll always try and there will always be love.”

“Do you think she’ll like us?”

“She’ll love us,” he assured you as you smiled softly, “you’re going to be the best mom.”

“And you’re already the best dad,” you squeezed his hand particularly harshly and he tried to keep his expression neutral, “Stevie, I-”

“Alright,” you found the doctor looking at you with excited eyes, “time to start pushing!”

“Stevie?”

“You’ve got this, angel,” maybe he was right…maybe you could do this, “it’ll all be over soon.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And….that turned out to be a lie. Not by choice, but circumstances. Life happens. 

Once you started pushing, you had a nagging feeling in your gut. And yeah, it was several hours and a lot of pushing and tears and pain later before you finally got to meet your baby girl.

But as soon as you laid your eyes on her, it was all worth it. All the months of morning sickness, back pain, heartburn, shortness of breath, and lack of sleep were worth it. You fell in love all over again as soon as you got to hold the little blob of a grumpy looking potato that was placed in your arms. All things considered, she was pretty damn cute in your little pink hat and blanket. 

“Look at her,” you were exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than to try and get a few hours of sleep. You knew that your sleep schedule wasn’t going to be consistent anymore, not for some time anyway, “we made her. She’s all ours.”

“Our Camila,” his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and he looked just as exhausted as you. He’d been a wreck since he realized you were in labor and as soon as he’d laid eyes on her he was a goner. He reached over and gently touched her chubby, splotchy little cheek, “she’s perfect.”

“She is,” you leaned into Steve’s touch when you felt him wipe away your tears, “I hope that she knows we’ll always love and try to do right by her.”

“She will, she’s going to be so spoiled with love,”  you couldn’t even imagine all the excitement that was going to overwhelm once she was at home. You knew that everyone was waiting to meet her. Steve, naturally, had called everyone (you swore it could have been everyone he’d ever met) once you got to the hospital. And of course, his coworkers and half the hospital were eagerly waiting for the good news and to see the new addition to the family, “she’s going to have everyone wrapped around her little finger.”

“She’s already got you,” you teased, but it wasn't denying anything.

“So does her mother,” the way you beamed at him made him practically melt, “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, “so, so much.”

You laid back in the uncomfy, hard bed already dreaming of going back to your own bed. You watched as Steve looked at Cami, clearly trying to memorize every detail about her. She was still in your arms but as you leaned back you angled her towards him, “go on.”

“Hmm?” he raised his eyebrows but eagerly took her from your arms, holding her securely against his chest. He’d practiced this and readied him for this moment, but he still grew nervous. He was holding her like she was made of glass, “do you want to get some rest, angel?”

“I do,” you admitted, “but I also know you, my love. Go on and take her. Show her off to everyone.”

“A-are you sure?” there was a spark in his eye and you nodded. If there was anyone you trusted, it was him. Plus, you couldn’t lie, you kind of wanted him to show her off, “I don’t want to take her if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’m sure,” you promised, “go and gloat about Baby Harrington. I know they’re dying to see her just as much as you’re dying to show her off.”

“I won’t be gone too long,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be extra careful with Blob - Cami!”

“HA!” you grinned through a yawn, “I told you it would stick. Cami the Blob. I love it, it’s perfect.”

“We’re not…fine,” he laughed softly as Cami made a few small sounds as if she was trying to make her opinion known, “oh Cami girl, I’m afraid your nickname will also forever be Blob. Until your sibling comes along and then they can be Blob.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m doing this again,” you snorted in amusement, “and even bolder to assume they would also look like a blob! Maybe they’d be scrunkly or something!”

“I’m not even going to pretend I have any clue what you just said,” he pecked your lips a few times, “get some rest, mama. We’ll be back soon.”

“Love you both,” your eyes were already closing as you watched him leave the room. You loved them both terribly…but you were ready for a little rest before the chaos truly started.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve practically had a spring in his step as he walked out of the room with his daughter - his daughter! - and went to look around for his fellow nurses. As soon as he’d stepped foot out the door, he was stopped by one of the doctors. By now everyone had heard about the arrival of Baby Harrington and everyone was eager for a look at her. 

“She’s beautiful,” the doctor was on her way to another room but took a few moments to stop and admire the baby. Steve felt every bit the proud father, “well done to both of you, but mainly your wife!”

“She did do all the hard work,” he agreed softly with a wink, “but I’ll let her know.”

Before going downstairs to the ER, where he knew his partner was working, he popped his head into the breakroom, finding curious eyes on him, “I’ve got a little visitor!”

They all gathered around him, quietly and leaving some room so they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby. How she managed to still be asleep was besides him. They call cooed over her, throwing in their well wishes and congratulations. Everyone loved Steve - he was a likable guy after all - and naturally they loved anyone associated with him. 

This kid was to be a little star at the hospital. Then again, people were still in love with how the two of you had met there; all because of a silly broken ankle. It was the best injury of your life, despite the mess it created. It had given you the best thing in your life and together the two of you had created the next best thing. 

Once he made it out of the breakroom, he made his way downstairs to where he knew his partner would be. If there was anyone he wanted to share this moment with, it was her.

Luckily, he didn’t have to go far. Word had already gotten to his fellow nurse and she caught him just as he came back into the hallway. Her entire face lit up as she took in the small, soft looking bundle in his arms.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked softly as Steve eagerly nodded. She wanted to squeeze him in a big hug, but didn’t want to crush the baby either. Instead, she gently peeked at the sleeping baby and made a quiet sound of delight, “Steve! She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” he grinned at her, his heart full to bursting, “I have to admit, I’m pretty scared right now. I don’t wanna mess up this whole dad thing.”

“Steve,” she touched his cheek, her tone melting into the sweetness she often reserved for him, “I’ve watched you grow from a brand new wide-eyed nurse into the wonderful husband - and father - you are now. You have such a good heart, and you’re a good kid. You’re going to screw it up sometimes, trust me when I say we all do, but if there’s anyone that’s going to do this thing right, it’s you. And you know that if you need anything, you’ve got plenty of people that are willing to help. You know you can call me day or night, anytime for anything.”

“Thank you,” he was teary eyed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as he managed to give her a side hug, “you’re amazing, Brenda. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“We certainly wouldn’t be here right now,” she teased; she was the one that had finally convinced Steve to ask you out, despite his initial hesitation with the whole patient-caretaker thing. But she was right - if he hadn’t listened to her, none of this would have been possible, “tell you what, try and get some rest while you’re still here and one of the other nurses will look after her. The two of you are in for quite a change.”

“Another good idea,” he snickered, “among your many.”

“I know,” she winked at him before stealing a last look at the baby that had already won over so many hearts, “tell your wonderful wife I say hello and congratulations. When you get settled at home, let me know and I’ll bring over some food. Cooking is going to be the last thing on your mind.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” he grinned. 

He was still scared and worried, but somehow he knew that this would all be okay. He’d always wanted to be a father, and now he was. What a world, a wonderful, weird world.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a few days later when you were finally home and had started to settle into a routine. As much of a routine that a newborn allowed for that was. 

It was a wonderful strangeness that having a baby brought into your home. It was no longer a quiet, pristine place, but a perfectly chaotic house. You liked it; it felt like things were falling into place as they were meant to.

And Steve, wonderful amazing Steve, made everything so much better. He was definitely hands on and helped with Camila just as much as you did. He claimed that you did all the hard work and she was the result of both of you not just one of you, so why would you do everything. He was definitely the opposite of a lot of fathers, but then again, you’d always known he was special and that you were lucky. There was still a lot to learn and navigate but you had no doubt that the two of you would figure it out. 

You came back from the bathroom after taking a much needed shower and padded into the bedroom, ready to catch a bit of sleep for however long you were able to. You found Steve in bed, Cami curled up on his chest as he stroked her back gently. She was asleep, and he was getting there too. 

“Hey,” you whispered as he looked over and gave you a sleepy smile. He still managed to look at you as though you’d hung the moon and all the stairs. You crawled into bed next to him, curling into his side, “you got her to sleep!”

“Didn’t take much this time,” he admitted with a small laugh, “gave her some milk and down she went.” 

“I’m ready for a nap too,” you yawned, “I think we all are. I can put her in the bassinet?”

“Nah,” she shook his head gently, “she’s okay right here. I’ll be careful…you get some sleep and we can trade off later on.”

“Are you sure, love?” you peeked an eye at him, but he just nodded, “you can take a nap first-”

“I’m sure,” he reached over and touched your cheek gently before kissing your forehead, “you need some rest, mama. I’ll probably just read for a bit.”

“Will you read to me?” you asked softly as he beamed at you, your own personal ray of sunshine, “just until I fall asleep. I won’t sleep for too long.”

“You’ll sleep for however long you need,” he insisted sweetly, “but of course, I’ll always read to you.”

“You’re the best,” your eyes were already closed and you knew that it wasn’t going to be long until you were asleep, “I love you so much, Stevie. And you too, Cami girl.”

“I love you too,” he grabbed his book and started to read out loud softly, so he wouldn’t disturb either of his girls. 

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he read you snoring softly, along with Cami’s deep breaths.

Yeah, this wasn’t so bad after all. 

Steve had his girls and all the love in the world.

[cerastes]

One of the fundamental aspects that helps carry Bocchi as such a genuine article is that Bocchi herself is at neither extreme of the competence scale.

In a lot of these “Main Character has immense insecurity issues and social anxiety”, you have a main character that REALLY doesn’t have anything going for them except their ‘pure heart’ (they are kind to others and that’s it) or they are actually a huge wellspring of untapped potential that just needs that little extra push in order to flourish.

There’s positive messages to be gleaned from these, for sure, like “sometimes being yourself is enough” and “you are so incredible, you just don’t know it, you can do anything”, which, while definitely something that can be That Event or Realization that helps someone overcome something, I think ultimately fails to account for the, perhaps, more worldly, more realists out there that don’t need to hear that for the one hundredth time, because the previous ninety nine times didn’t really do it for them, kind of how like “fake it till you make it” works for a lot of people, but also doesn’t for a lot of others.

If anything, I think one could glean something else from this: Unless I’m naturally a very kind person who’s always willing to put themselves down to get others over and can show genuine heartwarming kindness, or a genius waiting to bloom, just so incredibly good and skilled at something or various things that that cements my worth, I’m shit out of luck. And let’s face it, extreme purity is more of a negative in the real world than a positive, because people will kind of just walk all over you if you let them, plus you’re likely not a lot of fun if all you got going for you is “I’m Nice :)” without something else to compliment it, like being funny, knowing interesting things, etc. On the other side of the table, it is ultimately a very utilitarian view to consider someone awkward, eccentric, and otherwise different likeable only because they are incredibly good at something or some things, a Rudolf the Reindeer situation where his red nose makes him an ostracized freak right up until it’s actually useful for others and has a practical application.

It’s here where I think Bocchi subtly nails it: She’s at neither end of the stick. Bocchi’s only real skill to speak of is that she’s good at playing the guitar, but that’s because she’s actually been diligently playing for years now, has a successful ‘Tube channel, and explicitly enjoys playing the guitar both as a hobby and as a pressure valve; one of the early gags is that when overwhelmed with negative thoughts, she’d channel that right into composing a melody to play with her guitar, which she abandons after a few episodes when she’s a bit more comfortable with the people around her. Besides that, it’s explicit that Bocchi isn’t particularly good at other things, and we know she’s kind of ‘creepy’ in the endearing, eager way, the photos thing with her room being less that she’s a maniac and more that she’s very very stoked to have friends, for example, which she then reigns in when her mom tells her “hey, sweetie, that ain’t it”.

Everything Bocchi does is ultimately very consistent with who she is presented to be: She doesn’t just magically do a 180 turn just because she’s technically doing everything she set out to do, Bocchi is still a naturally anxious, negative person, and that’s fine, and her friends aren’t oblivious to her being like this (the gang being oblivious to the MC’s anxiety is a recurring thing in the genre!), in fact, they are fully aware and many times they say “oh is Bocchi having a Moment again?” or “ok I know where to find her, we need to look in a place where creatures like Bocchi, such as slugs, can be found”, they are fully aware that Bocchi is like that, but they like her anyways because, much like the audience, they think she’s fun to be around. Her being a good guitarist isn’t even why they stick by her, since she was actually bad at playing guitar with a band initially, only adjusting later, but even during this period before she adjusted, the rest of the band is like “oh no yeah this our guitarist Bocchi and we love her, she turns into a creature now and then and gets attacked by birds for no reason and it’s really funny, we’re going to store love in her”.

Bocchi isn’t exceptional in either a pathetic or successful way, she’s just Bocchi and she has friends that she likes and that she likes, and in the end it’s not really about “fixing” her as much as it is just making the band work out and having a good time while seeing that through. The only ones you could say are out to truly make sure Bocchi has a great opinion of herself are Kita and Kikuri, the former because that’s just how she is, and given how loving she is, she would like for Bocchi to see herself as someone actually cool and funny, the way she sees her, and the latter because Kikuri herself used to be pretty negative and never really got through it properly, relying on heavy alcohol binging instead to get in a good state of mind, and initially really wanted Bocchi to just enjoy playing music as an artform regardless of her skill.

All of this helps the dynamics feel not like we’re supposed to be backing a bland MC that is less a main character and more a vehicle to see the cooler rest of the cast, not like a Rudolf the Reindeer situation, but instead, helps it feel like we’re just seeing people that like being friends, being friends and hyping each other up or messing with each other because that’s what pals do.

[crystallizsch]

despite twst being a "villain" game

i love it when i see how certain characters speak to certain people. like how people just relate to their struggles/personalities/etc.

there’s riddle coming to terms that not everything has to be perfect, unlearning from what he has been taught growing up that not everything has to be followed to the letter;

ace who is gungho and earnest about what he believes in and has the natural inclination to defend those he grows to genuinely care about;

deuce always striving to improve himself despite setbacks and being aware of his own shortcomings;

leona who acts like he’s given up from being cast aside his entire life and coming to terms to the fact that there are people that do look to him as a leader, as someone who’s worth something;

floyd who unapologetically just does what he wants, choosing to do things that interests him at the moment;

kalim choosing to be happy and kind always, living life everyday to the fullest knowing what he’s gone through;

jamil with the expectations and obligations to essentially "perform" and do things for others more than for himself, especially when he has the potential to shine by himself with his own abilities;

vil rejecting gender norms and restrictions, while still being confident in his own masculinity, and also wanting other people to bring out their best and truest potential even though he may be strict about it;

rook being able to pick out so meticulously the beauty in everything and everyone whenever no one else is able to;

idia with his introverted yet very passionate energy towards things he cares about;

silver with his love and dedication for those he considers his family;

malleus with his loneliness and bringing out his genuine self with someone he's able to consider a friend;

i know some of these sound pretty surface-level but these are the ones that just came to mind at the moment, these are not my full-on thoughts on each of them

my point overall is i just really love seeing when there’s a character that REALLY speaks to someone that doesn’t particularly speak to me because it gives me a whole new perspective on characters i initially didn’t care about or didn’t like and makes me appreciate them more

also it just shows how how these characters are different enough in that sense so that there are characters for everyone to love and relate to 🥺💕

i could gush more about relationship dynamics as well but this is getting long enough hfdsfjsljlks anyways i would love to see others’ own takes and why a particular character(s) relates to them or why they just like them in general 👉👈 i want to spread some good vibes 💖 but anyways idk these are just my thoughts 🤧

[maybeiwasjustjade]

The in-canon explanation for mates makes little sense. If mates are supposedly matched for their equal powers, only one of the three canon mates makes sense: Lucien and Elain. And I say this mostly because of how they found out + their respective power levels.

Elain is a Made female and a seer, and Lucien—while the son of the current HL of Day—is just an ordinary, if particularly powerful, Fae male. Elain has no idea what she’s capable of yet, because no one lets her do anything. Even before Nesta’s magic began manifesting as silver flames or her connection to the Trove, the IC used her for the war by scrying and stuff. Elain is so far untrained even in the one gifts she’s aware of. In a way, it matches with Lucien and the heritage he’s still blind to (potentially anyway). And just like Elain has to potential to be very powerful someday, Lucien may very well be HL of Day.

Plus, they make sense in ways Rhys/Feyre didn’t. Elain became Lucien’s mate after she was made fae, because then the canon theory works. But Rhysand somehow knew Feyre was his mate even before she became Fae, but that makes little sense when you think about it. If the canon theory is accurate, why would the Mother pair the *most powerful* HL with a mere human girl? You can’t even say its about the potential of her becoming fae, because that’s bargaining on fate.

What if Feyre hadn’t been chosen by Tamlin, or she had died before the events of ACOTAR? Or if Nesta or Elain had been brought to Spring instead, and Feyre remained human. What if Feyre never died UtM? Would the HL of Night spend a meager 60ish with a human mate? And while I disagree about Feyre’s power levels, the canon given one is on par with a HL’s, so at leats they match in that.

The same problem with Nesta/Cassian. The bond didn’t snap when she was human, and neither really had a clue before she became Fae, which works. But the power disparity between them is odd. For all that Cassian is a powerful Illyrian, he doesn’t hold candle to Nesta, power loss or no. He has six siphons and nothing else; she has command over life and death, has the power to Make (and Unmake probably), and the Trove answers to her alone. Paired with Gwydion, Nesta rivals Rhysand. So how are they equal to one another? It would make more sense if Nesta’s mate was Azriel even, or Lucien like the original plans. Eris, even.

And honestly, I really abhor the whole “mates are chosen for the sake of breeding powerful children” theory so goddamn much. I know Rhysand said it so most readers accept it as truth, but it really shows SJM’s values if she goes through with it. The idea that a woman is only worth a mate if she can give him children is gross. It also goes against both Feyre and Nedta being mated to Illyrians given the whole wings debacle. But mostly it’s just disgusting that even in a fantasy book, the females are just incubators for powerful heirs. Even the Helion/LoA being mates thing fall under this considering the whole point of it was to birth Lucien.

And it’s also just really homophobic? Because then it means mates can only happen in a heterosexual relationship that would inadvertently result in babies. Kinda disgusting to imply that two males or two females aren’t deserving of such a *beautiful* bond just because they can’t pop out children from it.

[descendant-of-truth]

Y'know what maybe I'm not done talking about Journeys queercoding actually. maybe I do wanna work out my literary analysis muscles for the sake of Pokemon protagonists. why not

To clarify, this isn't about me personally enjoying the ship between Ash and Gou. I do enjoy it, but I'm making an argument for potentially deliberate queercoding in the writing, I'm not necessarily just here to gush (though that may be a side effect)

I'm also a firm believer that actions or behaviors that we typically think of as romantic are only made romantic if that's how the people involved feel about it. I don't think romance is the only possible way to interpret their relationship.

But when it comes to predicting where a story might be going next, or figuring out what the writers are intending to hint at us, I gotta pull out my textbook of Romantic Tropes first to see what fits the bill.

And I'm sorry, but even if it's not the intended interpretation, you can't include all of these scenes:

...and assume no one in your audience will think there's anything romantic happening here.

Of course, those are just the obvious visual interactions between them that can come off as romantic, to say nothing of the symbolic visual hints; the no less than four rainbows they've been under (one of which was reflected in Gou's eye), the two sets of heart-shaped pokemon that swam past them in a single episode which also had them falling under a rainbow, stuff like that.

But even all of that is pretty surface-level stuff. If the writing doesn't support a queer reading very strongly, then my argument for the queercoding being particularly intentional would fall flat.

Thankfully, the writing does support a queer interpretation, so I'm in the clear! Since breaking this part down will take a lot longer, I'm putting it under a cut.

So, right off the bat we've got the basic setup for the show. For the first time, the focus is primarily on Ash and one other person, as opposed to two or more people... despite having a third person in Chloe, who could easily make this into a trio dynamic, considering she's friends with Gou from the start. But they choose instead to make the core of the show about Ash and Gou.

This is even reflected in promotional material, where they'll often be placed closer to each other than Chloe:

Them being roommates is something I usually bring up as a joke, but it is worth noting anyway simply because it's another way the writers have decided they're going to spend almost all of their time together when they really didn't have to.

But now we gotta get into the real Writing Choices(TM) that are the meat and potatoes of this analysis, such as: making brief allusions to the idea that they might like other guys, too

One way to build up a character's orientation is to show them being attracted to people in shorter instances before giving them a main love interest. Think Luz from The Owl House; she had expressed attraction to both boys and girls before she got a girlfriend or started wearing a bi pin.

Likewise, this is Ash when he's thinking about Leon after seeing him battle for the first time:

I kid you not, he keeps up this blush and zoned-out expression for a solid minute, so caught up in thinking about how cool Leon is that he doesn't even think to eat the scones in front of him.

Now, Ash is a person frequently characterized by his love for food, and in previous episodes he had expressed a particular adoration for Galar scones, so this is pretty unusual behavior for him.

So unusual that it's. literally never happened before, to the best of my knowledge?? I don't think it takes much analyzing to realize that, even if it was brief, you could easily take this as Ash having a celebrity crush on Leon.

(There's even pink flowers in the background but that's probably less important)

Meanwhile with Gou, his "setup crush" in this scenario would be Horace. These two have a whole episode dedicated to their first meeting and the bond they forged, and how that turned bitter on Gou's end when he gets stood up right as he thought he was finally making a friend.

What sets this up for a romantic interpretation is largely the framing of things towards the end of the episode:

"Why do I keep thinking of him" is historically not the most platonic thing you could be bitterly thinking to yourself while you remember stargazing with someone, even if I do stand by my statement earlier of nothing being inherently romantic by itself

The end of the episode also implies that the feeling is mutual, if this shot is anything to go off of

(It's just a very shoujo manga-esque frame okay there's no way I wasn't going to point it out)

And the ending scene is two Celebies looking down happily at the two of them while the narrator talks about how pokemon form "many different kinds of bonds"

Many kinds of bonds, huh? Wonder what he could possibly be implying there

Okay so we've got orientation buildup, next in line is this. suspiciously consistent trend of characters who are close to Ash telling Gou to take care of him, or even going out of their way to test him to make sure he's good enough to be his rival or friend.

Gou himself even echoes the sentiment completely unprompted once, which says even more to me that they're trying to make a point out of this:

And here's the thing. None of the other companions have ever undergone this sort of treatment. Nobody questioned whether or not Ash's friends were good enough to hang out with him before, so why now? Why Gou? What makes him different?

Kiawe is relatively easy to explain because (from what I can tell) he's just Like That about rivalries, but why the addition of describing a rival as "the person closest to Ash"? Why does Gary suddenly care about the quality of Ash's buddies when that was never really a concern for him before?

Well gee I don't know about you guys but to me, this feels like the trope where someone's friends and family all start scouting out the guy they're interested in (or who is interested in them) to make sure they won't like, break their heart or something. And despite my best efforts, I'm struggling to see how this wasn't the writers' intention behind these plotlines.

Gou telling Ash's mom that he'll look after Ash on two separate occasions as opposed to the initial one also feels like an easy parallel to someone promising their love interest's parents that they'll be a good partner.

To my understanding, that isn't traditionally something friends also have to promise, even if there's more justification here as Ash and Gou are traveling around and getting into chaotic situations regularly.

So, with all this in mind, it kind of reframes the stuff I mentioned earlier, doesn't it? The blushing, the hand-holding, the spin hug that I'm never getting over, the frequent appearance of rainbows and the heart shaped Pokemon (Luvdisc if you were wondering)... it feels a lot more intentional once you take into account the bigger themes in the writing.

And once you start looking, it keeps piling up. The way Gou hurriedly says that he totally didn't want to help Ash out or anything after Scorbunny gives him a knowing look, like how most tsundere tropes tend to play out:

Or the specific way Gou is taken aback by one of Ash's compliments before trying to play it off by looking cool, only to be comically shocked when Ash gets distracted by something else:

I could go on but I'm running out of image space and I think you get the idea.

Ash's side of this whole thing is admittedly a lot more subtle than Gou's (*cough* because he's arospec) which is why I haven't gone over it much - my aim with this post was not to go too far into speculation territory - but we at least have marketing on our side for that

Gee Ash how come Animedia let you feed Gou two pastries

Anyway, in conclusion: I ran these two through the literary queerometer and the results were positive, thanks for coming to my TED talk

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Operation Campfire

Part I

"We need to leave."

Quiet and unobtrusive, Akai has slipped up to Rei through the sea of people around them. He really needs to stop doing that; the warm, low voice, barely a whisper in Rei's ear, makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

It's not even been twenty minutes. This is going to be a long, long night.

He's lucky the attention of the guests is on the stage; otherwise, someone might notice the flush creeping up his cheeks at Akai's too-close proximity. It's nice, in a way, to know he'll come this close; gods know Akai's not particularly comfortable with most people, prefers to keep his distance. The fact he doesn't, with Rei, in a public space no less, is an admission of their mutual trust.

It's also highly inconvenient, right now, because it sends a shiver down Rei's spine.

He manages to supress the movement, barely, and focuses on the issue at hand. Leaning back against Akai would be very lovely and all, but this is hardly the time nor place for it. He already has a reputation of cozying up to the FBI too much - and that's with his colleagues barely knowing half the things he and Akai have been up to. He can't afford to give them more ammunition.

In fact, he's here tonight for precisely the opposite purpose. He has an image to improve.

It is a little annoying, though. Because it should be their night. Theoretically. The celebration of five long years of undercover work, coming to a successful conclusion. Food and drinks on the house, how lovely.

As it stands, however, being himself would probably be a disaster. He's going to be Amuro, tonight, and he's going to do a lot of networking and very little else.

(They've got their own celebration planned in a couple of days, anyways. Just Hiro, Akai, and himself, on vacation for the first time in years.)

Between an hour of speeches, another hour of rewards for key figures, food and drink and dance, Rei's not particularly looking forward to the night. But he's got superiors to bedazzle, and he's not going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers - especially not for an idiot that hasn't managed to apologize, properly, for trampling all over Rei's feelings.

Akai has certainly tried; has even had flowers delivered to him.

(At least Rei presumes it was him; there's very few people that know his new address, even fewer with reason to apologize, and then there's the fact his mysterious gift giver forgot to sign their name on the accompanying card. Even detective Mouri Kogoro - also present, tonight - could crack this case.

That reminds him- he should toss the dried-up hydrangea into the trash already.)

But at the end of the day, Rei doesn't care for flowers or chocolates or cards. What he really wants is for Akai to suck it up and say the words himself. He knows it's a tall order; after all, it's not like he's apologized for any of the privacy violations - and other assorted crimes - he committed while hunting for Akai.

That was different, though.

Akai setting him up with Hiro was entirely pointless, utterly avoidable. If Akai is worth Rei's time, he'll acknowledge that and apologize properly.

At least, Rei would like to pretend his affections hinge on Akai's words.

Unfortunately, that isn't quite the truth any longer, probably hasn't been in a good long while. Because Akai, stupid, reckless idiot that he is, has wormed his way into Rei's heart. Even if he desperately wishes it weren't so.

He's tried, of course, to exorcise Shuuichi from it, several times in fact. But Akai is burrowed in too deep, nestled into Rei's weak spot; unless he wants to rip himself apart in the process, there's no getting rid of him that easily. And that's if Rei could even bring himself to want to do that. Which he doesn't.

They've grown too close, entwined with one another. Relying on each other.

And were it a matter of life and death, he'd go with Akai in a heartbeat.

(Considering its rabbit-quick palpitations in the FBI agent's proximity, that would be rather fast, these days.)

Right now, however, Akai's still projecting calm.

Not that he ever shows many signs of distress, generally too in control of himself. A useful trait, in their line of work - but somewhat inconvenient if one cares about this idiot. It's for the best, then, that Rei has become quite adept at reading even the smallest cues Akai lets slip through the crack. He's not impossible to read, especially up close.

(Close enough that his concealed gun presses into Rei's flank. His breath hitches at the realization.)

He takes a moment to fiddle with the folds of his suit jacket, to make sure it hides his own shoulder holster adequately. A feeble attempt to calm himself.

Akai's presence demands too much of his attention.

He's barely moving at all, even his breathing tightly controlled. Rei's sure if he looked back, he'd see the muscles of Akai's lovely neck pulled taut, his eyes sharp and unyielding. But given that he's chosen to stand in a way that would make it hard for him to draw his weapon, there's nothing to worry about - not yet, at least.

Knowing Akai, it's very possible he just doesn't like how many people have gathered here, tonight.

(A sentiment Rei shares, after too much time spent in the shadows.)

In the end, however, it's just a party. And one with such a high percentage of law enforcement attendants that it would be utterly stupid to try any funny business tonight.

(Rei tries to ignore that this would also make it an appealing target for anyone with a grudge against the police.)

He's not about to let Akai (or a hypothetical terrorist) ruin his career opportunities.

His answer, thus, remains firm.

"No."

Still, he can't help wondering what has Akai so wired. If there's something to worry about, he probably needs to know.

"What's wrong?" Rei mouths, barely a sound passing from his lips. He stares ahead to the podium, pretending to listen to the speech Kuroda's giving at the moment.

"Several people have been staring at you and me - including your subordinate, for the last twenty minutes. And I'm not supposed to cause trouble, tonight", Akai mumbles, too soft and too close.

If he keeps speaking like that, it's going to be trouble, alright.

Rei grits his teeth. Resists the urge to draw him in close. Akai can damn well protect himself, if need be.

"At least half the people in this room have read your dossier. I would be more surprised if they didn't stare at you, Silver Bullet."

He tries for dismissive, but the nickname flows from his lips too easily, too affectionately. Rei can't help it. His feelings bleed out of him, whenever he's not careful enough - a circumstance with historical prevalence, in Akai's presence.

Still, he'll humour Akai and assess the situation. Looks around, pretending to look for a waiter, a guise to survey the room.

He doesn't get far.

His gaze gets caught on Shuuichi, for what must be seconds at most, though they feel like an eternity. On the smile, soft and private and barely noticeable, the warmth mirrored in the creases around his eyes. He should be doing something else, but it's hard to look away, when Rei knows he caused this look, that the fondness is meant for him.

(It's the look usually reserved for Akai's family. The thought makes Rei nauseous.)

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before he does something very, very stupid.

Because Akai doesn't look like his dossier's picture, tonight. He looks even better.

Akai must have slept more, recently, to reduce the bags under his eyes. Someone, presumably Kudo Yukiko - because Rei refuses to believe Akai's managed it himself - has dressed him up appropriately for the gala, too - he's wearing a navy-blue suit over a cream turtleneck sweater. His hair has been slicked back; his curls forced into a short ponytail by a silver ribbon. And if Rei's not mistaken, Akai's even wearing a bit of eyeliner that defines his already sharp eyes in even starker lines.

He's stunning, like this. Anyone with a pair of working eyes would be drawn to him.

Like hell Rei's going to tell him that, though.

Instead, he will use a different outlet for the emotions that are threatening to boil over within - Kazami.

He finds his associate in the crowd easily enough, staring intently at the pair of them, just as Akai had described. Rei's learned from the best; despite the brilliant smile, the glare he gives his subordinate is positively murderous.

Kazami flushes, coughs into his fist, and finally has the decency to look away. Rei will need to ask later why his subordinate thought it a good idea to leave his manners at home when attending such a prestigious gathering.

By his side, he can feel Akai relax a bit, a warm breath released past his ear. It's all the thanks Rei knows he'll get for the sniper to squeeze his arm, once, before he disappears back into the crowd.

(Where Akai touched him, the warmth lingers.)

Rei goes to find himself that waiter. He needs a drink, or maybe two.

.

While he's sipping his champagne - one of the few drinks left without that certain bad aftertaste - several people are called to the stage to receive their accolades.

It stings to know neither himself nor Akai will be called there tonight, despite their contributions.

It makes sense; what they did does not belong into the light. If their deeds were exposed, the public would see just how ugly and dirty and bloodstained public safety's hands really are. Better to keep it hidden.

Because even their peers, so many of which are here tonight, those that should understand, often don't. Rei has seen the looks people give him. Some of his superiors have been away from field duty for too long.

(Have forgotten when the ends justify the means.)

He's made sure to document every crime he committed, to send the reports to the higher-ups on a regular basis. And yet they left him to his own devices, offered no support or advice when he reported extortion and murder, torture and theft and arson.

(Before Kazami became his contact, communications had been so spotty he'd laid awake some nights, wondering whether they'd just leave him to die alone if he needed extraction. Wash their hands off him.)

Now, for the first time in years, he'd been face to face with his superiors during the post-takedown interviews - though they would be better described as interrogations, really, questioning his motives and loyalties.

In their quest to understand what happened, they'd pried apart every last reason, every justification he gave for his actions, the legitimacy of every injury he'd sustained. After lying for his survival for so long, he'd been afraid, for a moment, to be truthful with them - but there could never be absolution for his crimes, if he kept them locked up in his mind. So he'd laid it all out for them.

Had watched them pale as he described cutting off a young woman's fingers to send them to her husband. Had heard them swallow at the illegal pornographic materials he'd found on the laptop of a prestigious prosecutor, used for blackmail.

(Had seen the fear in their eyes, quite clearly. They must have thought he was a monster.

And some days, Rei's sure that they are onto something. He wouldn't change a thing, but still his deeds keep him up at night.)

In the end, they found nothing to fault him for. Pardoned his crimes, even if they weren't pleased about it. Awarded him with the honours he was due - the medal he's wearing pinned to his chest today a symbol of his service to the country he loves so much.

(Part of him wonders, can't help it, really, whether they'd ripped him apart just as much if he didn't look like he was a foreigner in his own country.

The rejection burns, bile rising in his throat.)

Maybe Akai was right. They should've just left right at the start. Then he wouldn't have to listen to those who fought and lived, nor the remnants of those who fought and lost.

Why is he doing this to himself? It's only dredging up bad memories he's trying to leave behind.

For a moment, he considers finding Akai and ditching the gala right there and then. But wherever he ran off to, Rei can't find him while his resolve wavers.

With a sigh, he resigns himself to the long night ahead.

He empties his glass in time for Hiro to be summoned to the stage.

.

It's not a surprise to hear his best friend's name be called, they knew ahead of time, but it still drives home just how different their lives turned out, in the end.

Hiro is a killer just the same, after all, but by being removed from active duty for a few years that somehow become palatable. They've made him out to be a survivor, a hero - the poster child for the kind of brave young officers the PSB needs to take on the difficult missions.

(Young and enthusiastic, because without their fervour, the work would break them.)

Even though Rei tries, he can't help but envy Hiro's moment in the spotlight.

(They should stand up there, together. Them, and three others that lost their lives in the line of duty already. It was always supposed to be the five of them.)

Rei hates himself for it.

It's not like Hiro's basking in the limelight. His smile is strained, his words curt, as he's thanked for his service. Somehow his attitude is understood as professional, instead of rude - the benefits of his cool smile, Rei supposes. But even if his best friend can fool the audience, Rei knows Scotch when he sees him.

(It's a small consolation to see that Hiro, too, has been changed by what they've been through. Rei clings to the connection, painful as it is.)

It's over fairly quickly, thankfully.

Hiro brushes past his proud older brother's congratulations, and instead finds Rei, wordlessly grabs the drink saved for him.

.

Time crawls and drags. More people go up, give a little speech of their own, step back down again. Their faces blur together.

"Zero."

Hiro bumps his shoulder, gently reminding him of the present, his presence.

The doom and gloom permeating the room is poisonous. Here Rei is, being envious of his best friend, when it's a miracle he's standing there at all. How stupid. Things could've gone bad so easily, but they made it through alive, and that's worth something.

He leans back against Hiro's shoulder, focuses on his best friend's breathing.

.

When the ceremony is finished, it's time to do what Rei's come for - socialize, improve his standing. He's doing what he can in the office, but to limited effect, since he still spends a lot of time on field investigations. His identity might no longer be a national secret, but he's missed afterwork beers a few times too many. His colleagues treat him as other, despite his best efforts.

He'll just need to show them that he's human, too.

(Even if he can't show his true self.)

Rei could probably go at it alone, but he's used to two-person jobs - briefly, he wonders which tropical island Vermouth is enjoying her pardon on, is glad she hasn't sent a postcard - and Hiro's agreed to be his back-up. Probably for the best, considering how the night went, thus far.

If he wasn't a decently capable sniper, Hiro would have made a good intelligence officer for the organisation as well.

The amount of intel they gathered because calm and collected Scotch didn't take sides, knew to listen and offer insightful advice, was a little insane. The organisation never expected his betrayal, until it was too late (and even then, Rei vividly recalls Chianti pissing off Gin when she insisted that surely Scotch wasn't a rat - one of the few sources of amusement, in those trying times). Charismatic enough to get even the ice-cold grim reaper to thaw - that's his best friend.

And some of the familiarity they're trying to reclaim is still there, because they slip into their masks effortlessly, side by side. Fall into their old patterns.

Between Scotch's dry wit, and Amuro's dazzling charm, very few people manage to avoid the conversational vortex that sucks them in, spits them out with an improved opinion of agents Furuya and Morofushi.

A compliment about an officer's subtle earrings here, 'heartfelt' congratulations for the graduation of a colleague's daughter from a prestigious university there - after years of depending on highly sensitive intel, it's laughable how easily these people can be won over with the information they volunteer on their social media profiles.

In the ebb and flow of conversations, Rei makes sure they don't stay past the small talk, lest they reach actually interesting or even controversial topics. Usually, this is fine - people are looking to celebrate, not form meaningful connections. But every single one of them wants to toast with him, and there's too many detectives around, so Rei actually takes a sip when they ask him to.

It's been a while since he drank that much, and he probably shouldn't have.

.

It starts out innocently enough. The young woman talking to their latest mark seems vaguely familiar, though Rei can't quite place her.

They chat, for a while, about nothing of importance, when finally, they reach the dreaded stage of meaningful conversation. They should dip, but her enthusiasm is helplessly charming, provide an easy in with their target. Rei can't help but want to indulge her, nudging Hiro to stay a little longer. It's nice when others do his job for them.

"It makes me so happy, to see the case that took my partner finally laid to rest. Were you part of the final operation?"

Of course, the question isn't unexpected. Rei's prepared a variety of different answers for why he's here, depending on who's asking. Unfortunately, he makes the mistake of really, truly, looking at the woman.

He freezes, his mind caught on all the things he can't ever tell her.

Because Rei's never seen her in person before, but he knows her. Showed shots of her picking up their kids to her husband, in a last-ditch effort to finally get him to break. The man hadn't.

Instead, he had quietly and resolutely told Rei he'd rather die, now, than drag his family into it.

Bourbon had given him what he'd asked for.

All he sees is the concrete cellar, monochrome but for the blood splattering on the floor and Bourbon's gloves, white fabric stained crimson. The smell of iron and gunpowder rises from the cold, hard, gun in his hand.

He blinks.

Thankfully, Hiro notices his stupor and steals the woman's attention away to cover for him, but they cut the conversation short after that, regardless.

Rei hurriedly removes his gloves, tosses them into the trash on their way out.

.

"What was that?" Hiro asks, when they're out of earshot of the woman, heading to one of the lesser-used employee bathrooms. His best friend is projecting calm, but the last syllable came out too sharp - he's clearly concerned.

"It's nothing to worry about."

Hiro, unfortunately, has never been particularly inclined to believe Rei when he lies straight to his face.

"You blanked out for half a minute and started shaking."

Okay, so, Rei doesn't remember that part, but he was a little preoccupied at the time.

"She caught me unaware. It won't happen again."

His best friend checks the bathroom stalls to make sure they're empty, puts a 'cleaning in progress' from the supply cabinet on the door. Pats the spot next to himself on the counter, and gives Rei a long look.

"Zero..."

Urgh.

Hiro's voice is soft and gentle, as if speaking to a spooked animal, and that really is the worst. Rei could resist anger and accusations, but genuine concern? Not a chance.

"Sometimes I get flashbacks. Short ones, but vivid. Started when you were gone. They haven't happened in a while, so I thought it was over."

It's an uncomfortable relief to finally tell someone, like removing a splinter from a wound - it still bleeds, but unless it's done, he can't ever heal. Rei would much rather not have divulged it, at least not right here and now, but his best friend is persistent - it's easier to just tell him what he wants to know, before he launches a full-on cross-examination. Besides, Rei's known for a while it needed to be addressed; he's lucky the episodes haven't happened in a situation that cost him dearly, thus far.

(And that Hiro was there to bail him out, tonight.)

"What kind of flashbacks?"

Rei winces and rubs his temple. Tries to shake off the memory.

"Usually harmless. Sometimes traumatic."

Hiro has entered the stage of damage assessment, and it's unlikely he'll stop before he's satisfied.

"Visual? Auditory?"

"All senses."

Hiro pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And this has been going on for years now?"

It's a rhetorical question, but at this point Rei might as well indulge him.

"Yes."

Hiro sighs.

Rei's just glad the dissection has stopped, momentarily.

"You should really talk about this with someone. A professional, preferably." That much is expected. Rei knows he should, hasn't done so for a very simple reason - it might get him disqualified from field duty. If he was ever constrained to a desk job, he would simply shrivel up and die.

He's sure the aversion is clearly visible on his face.

"I'll take that as a no. Have you tried talking to Akai?" That suggestion, at least, is novel, albeit utterly stupid.

"He has the emotional intelligence of a starfish, why should I bother?"

Rei knows that assessment is a little unfair, but even if Akai's not utterly hopeless, his inability to communicate what he actually means results in just about the same outcome.

(Not that Rei's any better, most days.)

Hiro smiles at him, too knowing. 'Because you like him, and there's a very short list of people that applies to', Rei can almost hear him say.

There would be no arguing with that, even if Rei sure as hell would try. Instead, Hiro finds a different way to casually knock the breath from his lungs.

"Give him a chance. He might understand."

.

They rest up for a couple minutes, grab a breath of fresh air, and then return into the fray.

It's probably no use to try and bedazzle more people; Rei's tired, woozy, and he's all but exhausted the list of officers that are likely to influence the office climate. Still, there's one last thing he should be doing tonight, to improve his image.

Not his favourite part of the night, and he really can't afford to jinx it by asking if things could go any worse.

As it is an international gathering, there's a section of the facility sectioned off with a live band, providing an improvised dance floor. Amuro, a 'proper gentleman', should let himself be seen on it. There's always a surplus of women who wish to dance on these occasions, and indulging a few is an easy way to earn good will.

Still, he'd really rather not.

.

His apprehension isn't for lack of competence.

Years ago, in an unlikely team-up, Rye and Vermouth taught him the basics of ballroom dancing for a mission (the fact the sniper knew how to do that really should've been an indication he wasn't as American as he had claimed). Their lessons had been more enjoyable than Rei had anticipated - mostly because he got to step on Rye's toes whenever he felt like it. It was quite satisfying to feel the sniper tense in his arms, trying not to flinch.

(And more pleasurable than he cared to admit, at the time, to get to hold Rye, pressed close, taut but compliant, moving only at Rei's behest. Their clothes soaked through with sweat-)

Rei slams the lid on that memory before it starts burning. They really like to cling to him today, huh.

In the end, Rei picked up dancing without much issue. Would even say he enjoys it, sometimes.

No, the problem is simply that it feels wrong to let someone into his personal space.

Rei's a very in-your-face kind of fighter, but he likes to controls the ebb and flow of the exchange through aggression. He doesn't stay close to give his opponent an opportunity to get back at him.

Years undercover have taught him that while more than an arm's length of distance doesn't guarantee his safety, at the very least it gives him time to react. To willingly allow someone to be close to him is utter insanity, and uncomfortably intimate in a way he shouldn't ever be, with strangers.

Furthermore, dancing will mean splitting up from Hiro (unless they want to cause a scandal, and that's not the kind of publicity they want to generate tonight). Rei's already slipped up once tonight, would rather like to avoid a repeat performance.

Even if he wanted to, though, Hiro wouldn't be available. Because Akai has noticed them approach the dancefloor.

Rei's caught only glimpses of him throughout the evening, hiding in the shadows and scaring people off with a glare so grim it justified the reaper nickname all on its own.

But that darkness falls from his face as he's making his way over to the pair of them, eyes bright in the dimly lit area. It's like seeing the sun rise from behind the clouds, and Rei's definitely not staring at him, ignoring whatever Hiro just said.

For a moment, Rei gives himself over to the delusion that Akai is coming over, looking all eager like that, to ask him for a dance. Rei would have to decline, of course, because of they aren't alone, but still. It would be nice to be asked, to be wanted, by Akai, for real this time.

(When Akai doesn't bother with any of the women that give him longing looks.)

The closer the FBI agents gets, though, the more Rei feels like an idiot.

Because Akai's grin means trouble, and it's not reassuring in the least that it's directed at Hiro.

(Rei tries to push down the stupid spike of jealousy; he's very much aware, after all, that Akai's not interested in his best friend. He's only partially successful, but Amuro's smile withstands his inner turmoil.)

"Agent Morofushi, would you care to join me for a glass of scotch?"

That can't be good. The bar doesn't serve hard liquor.

By his side, Hiro straightens, picking up the very same threat to public safety. His best friend addresses the arising problem the way he does best, with a smile. Whatever Akai is up to needs to be contained, or at least supervised, as they're both well aware.

"Of course, agent Akai. If you'll excuse me, Furuya, I'll be right back."

.

"Is now a bad time, agent Furuya?"

At this point, he'll take anyone other than the cadet that seems like she's barely more than half his age, fluttering her fake eyelashes coquettishly. Even if he was interested in women - and if there wasn't already someone holding his heart hostage - her high-pitched voice, needily whining for his attention, couldn't be further from his type.

"Pardon me, miss." He doesn't even remember the girl's name, couldn't care less, and turns to look at his saviour. Barely manages to keep his poker face in time to not falter under a steely stare. "I promised officer Satou a dance earlier."

When it rains, it pours.

Still, she extends a hand to him, so, as Rye taught him so graciously several years back, he accepts and leads her to the floor, in time for a slow waltz to begin. Officer Satou may appear brash, but when dancing, her confidence is an asset. She follows his movements without much issue.

"You're a difficult man to get a hold of, agent Furuya."

She just has to rub it in every time she sees him, to show that she had the right hunch all along. Annoying, but respectable. If she wasn't happily engaged to a detective of the homicide unit, he would have tried to recruit her already.

"I'm quite busy, as I'm sure you understand."

She nods, briskly, swaying through the sea of bodies around them. At least with the slow tempo of the dance, they're unlikely to waltz straight into someone - or, more likely, have someone waltz up to them.

"Aren't we always?"

Her rhetorical question doesn't need an answer, but he replies in kind, weaving around a couple to turn a corner.

"You still owe me that talk - don't think I've forgotten your promise."

Rei hasn't. He has, however been conveniently too occupied to think about trying to schedule it. Even if he can bring Hiro for back-up, it's sure to rip open old wounds. He's not looking forward to it.

(But Matsuda's and Date's friends deserve better, from him. He hasn't even asked Hiro, because that would make it official. He should. He will.)

He nods.

"Relax. I know now is neither the time nor the place to discuss it, so don't worry about it, for tonight."

They effortlessly avoid collision with a pair of drunken dancers, swaying out of tune and out of lane. Rei doesn't let go of a relieved breath, but it's a damn near thing.

"If you say so, then I shan't."

She smiles, past him.

"Good. Instead, you will give me your address, so I can send you a wedding invitation. Takagi and myself are getting married in autumn."

Rei stiffens, loses his rhythm. Why would they want him there? It makes no sense. He should decline.

Amuro smiles, because that's the appropriate reaction to such an event, right? "I appreciate the thought-"

She interrupts him, drags him out of the way of a tumbling dancer.

"Don't you dare think for even a second about rejecting this offer. You owe me, and we owe you. You come, and we'll call it even. Don't make me go through your superiors - I will, if I have to."

Her face hardens.

"Besides, the kids will be there. They've been asking about you."

Just because Rei knows she's guilt-tripping him, doesn't mean it's not working.

She doesn't have to specify which kids - there's only one group of elementary school students that runs into the pair of homicide detectives often enough to be invited to their wedding. Really, them being there should be an argument against agreeing to come - the kids only ever knew him as Amuro, and, statistically speaking, people don't tend to like Furuya Rei much when they've met one of his disguises first.

He's intimately familiar with how it feels to lose a friend, though. Elena's disappearance still hurts, some nights, and he wouldn't wish that pain upon anyone else.

And while they are certainly a lot to handle, and a little annoying at times, it was kind of nice to spend time with the detective boys. Unlike his regular life, their cases were mostly harmless and quick to solve, and hey, that one time he even got to punch an ass.

A welcome break.

Rei finds himself smiling without really meaning to. Is horrified and delighted at once to find it's genuine.

The waltz has ended, and officer Satou looks at him expectantly. It's not like she's given him much of a choice, but he still waits a moment, considers his options.

Does he want to anger Satou Miwako? There's probably smarter uses of his time.

Though he doesn't feel like he owes her, she's raised a good point. Maybe it would even be nice. Weddings are supposed to be joyous occasions, right? He needs more of those in life. Maybe he gets to be selfish for once, accept a good thing.

It breaks something within him, to accept without putting up much of a fight.

(But it's too nice, this feeling of being wanted somewhere.)

"I will let you know where to drop the letter off."

He might have surrendered to her, but he's not giving up his home adress. Doesn't want her to be able to just show up, unannounced.

She smiles at him, like the cat that caught the mouse, even though he's only agreed to receive the invitation, not to show up.

He'll try, though.

"Good. Feel free to bring a plus one."

.

Rei doesn't see Hiro and Akai for about an hour.

The longer they're gone, the more restless he gets - the last time he only heard Akai's grin, and then the guy showed up with a rocket launcher to shoot down a submarine. It's a show of confidence and bad ideas and he's way too tired to deal with the fallout at this hour.

Rei's on his fourth glass of champagne, his feet hurt from running around all evening and then dancing for an hour, he's sweaty, the air's too stale-

Sudden cold drenches him, gives him barely enough time to brace himself before Mouri Kogoro, who just spilled his wine all over his dress shirt, crashes into Rei.

Maybe he's had a few too many of his own; because his first instinct is to reach for his gun and get the guy to back off, then demand damages for Bourbon's ruined suit.

(Bourbon doesn't exist anymore, never existed in the first place.)

A hand wraps around his wrist, presses it down over his heart, stopping Rei from completing the draw just in time. He struggles against it for a moment, then shoots a dirty look over his shoulder. Of course it's Akai who's holding him down, steadfast as ever.

Rei still tries to resist, for the sake of it.

Once, twice.

Nothing.

Akai's not budging an inch.

(A cold shiver runs down Rei's spine, quickly followed by a hot flush of arousal. Damn Akai, and his everything.)

"Causing trouble without me?" Akai's infuriating smirk is way too close, and definitely not helping to calm down the situation.

At least it's distracting.

Rei can think of at least six different methods to wipe that stupid smile off Akai's face, including, but not limited to, breaking his nose. Doesn't need his hands for that - he could just headbutt him, no problem.

Getting his head close to Akai's also appears in some of the other ideas. Most concerningly of which: he would really like to kiss the smile away.

His heart beats quicker, trapped as he is by Akai, is trying to free itself from Rei's chest and reunite with the one who holds it in his grasp.

(Can Akai feel his pulse? Can he tell what it means?)

Shit. Definitely too much alcohol.

People are staring at them - too many officers keenly attuned to the bloodlust that filled the small space between the four of them for a moment. Hiro appears from wherever he was hiding to pry Mouri off Rei, hold him steady.

Akai tugs his wrist down, insistently. Lets go disappointingly quickly, once Rei relaxes the grip on his weapon.

(Instead of disappearing, Akai's warmth seeps into Rei's heart, burns him from within.)

He keeps his mouth shut. There's too many stupid things he could say right now that would ruin all his efforts of the night.

Instead of his gun, Rei draws a handkerchief, uses it to dab at the wine stain rather ineffectively. That shirt is thoroughly ruined. Well. Maybe their cleaner can salvage it.

"Detective Mouri, are you alright?"

The high-pitched voice promises an earlier onset of the headache Rei's sure to receive come tomorrow morning. Great. Who let officer Yamamura attend this gathering?

"I am perfectly fine, thank you very much", is what Rei can make out from Mouri's slurred speech (and even that only because Rei spent way more time than he would have liked around the miserable creature that is the detective).

"I think you've had quite enough, sir. Why don't you head home?" While he says it to Mouri, it's clear from the sharp look Hiro gives Rei that it's mostly addressed to him.

"We'll settle this tomorrow." Rei manages to tone his glare down to frigid instead of murderous, and turns on his heel.

He's not willing to deal with any more of this nonsense, tonight.

.

"Do you need a change of clothes?" Akai asks, keeping pace with Rei without issue. Long-legged bastard.

Rei, of course, has planned for this eventuality, but he really can't be bothered with dressing up again for an encore of that performance. No, it's time to go home and rest. He's earned it. Though...

"Yours?"

Akai looks at him, deadpan. "No. The ones I stole from Kuroda, obviously."

Rei gives him a dirty look. "You think you're so funny, huh?"

They make their way to the garage downstairs, on foot.

"Positively hilarious, I've been assured."

"Whoever told you that, you'll want to get your money back from them."

Akai laughs quietly while he rummages through the trunk of his obnoxious red mustang. It's a lot fuller than Rei remembers, brown boxes of some kind stacked in it that he doesn't remember seeing before.

He'll need to ask Akai about them later, but for now, he has other priorities.

The stain is cold and wet and irritating. He really wants to get out of the soiled clothes. Hm. The trunk lid should offer enough protection from the cameras...

Rei starts stripping.

And if he's taking his sweet time, putting on a little show, well. Akai's the one who ran around all evening looking like he wanted to be eaten alive. It's only fair Rei pay him back in kind.

It's not like they haven't seen each other half-naked a dozen times before.

It's the cold night air that causes goosebumps to form on his skin. Not Akai looking at him more hungrily than that one time they shared Rei's bento.

He expects to have his change of clothes handed to him by the time he's done, but since that's not the case, he extends a hand. As flattering as it is to catch Akai staring, green eyes burning bright in the night, Rei's still freezing.

"I'm cold, Akai."

Taking his cue, Akai hands his clothes over.

"And clearly inebriated."

Rei slips into the too-large tank top, doesn't bother with the shirt. Opts instead for the cozy sweater. Much better. He hugs the fabric to his chest.

"Tipsy, at most."

Akai gives him a long-suffering look. What's with people seeing through him, today?

"Rei. Do you mind if I drive you back?"

Akai's eyes burn with undisclosed emotions. At least Rei hopes he's not looking too deep into it, again. But Shuuichi seems painfully sincere, sombre, asking for permission - when really, it should be Rei asking for a ride, should thank him for offering.

The house of cards stacked against him all evening crumbles under the weight of Akai's look. God. Rei just wants to rest, nestled into the sniper's side, while he looks at Rei like that. Talks, as if he matters. Holds him tight.

Akai gets up, takes a step closer.

"You know the way, don't you?"

It should be casual, carelessly callous, but it comes out too soft, instead. An admission of familiarity. He's given Akai the keys to where he's most vulnerable, because he trusts Akai won't abuse that privilege.

"Yes."

The word is small and breathless between them. So simple, and yet.

Rei lets the shiver run its course through him, this time. It's too late to pretend he isn't affected. Even if he can't bring himself to say the words, maybe Akai will understand if Rei just stops suppressing what he feels.

Akai closes the gap between them, wraps his arms around him. Rubs his back, pressure gentle through the knit fabric. How does he still think Rei's cold, when he's been set on fire? Idiot.

He melts into the embrace, warmth seeping through the suit's thin fabric. Takes a deep breath of the smoke and sweat and sandalwood that make up Akai's scents, today. Holds him too tight, creasing the suit.

Neither of them cares.

"Take me home, Akai."

.

Rei drifts in and out of consciousness on the way back, Akai's steady driving lulling him to sleep. He doesn't bother trying to resist his body's demands.

.

A cool breeze stirs him awake, as Akai opens the window and slides his keycard for the underground parking lot across the scanner.

He parks in Rei's space, and is left waiting.

And waiting.

Cozy as he is, covered by Akai's suit jacket for further insulation, Rei's not particularly inclined to move. At the prospect of getting out of the car and climbing three flights of stairs, a groan escapes him.

Akai's observing him, critically.

"Will you be alright by yourself?"

If he's being honest, Rei's doesn't feel all that drunk. He should grab a snack before bed and a painkiller in the morning, then he'll be good.

"Most likely, yes."

And that's it, isn't it? Akai's fulfilled his duty, and now he'll be off to his own home. The thought leaves Rei cold.

"What about you?" he finds himself asking, doesn't want Akai to go just yet. Besides, he's genuinely concerned; Akai's been taut as a wire most of the evening.

The FBI agent sighs, deep and long-winded. Tension bleeds out of him with every breath.

"Too many people. But I'll be fine."

He doesn't look fine. Looking into his eyes from up close, Rei sees, surprise surprise, how tired Akai looks. It's been a long day, an even longer night, and it's probably only his stubbornness that keeps him from falling asleep in the car.

He shouldn't have driven Rei around, like this. Should've headed home, himself. This is Rei's fault, and he doesn't like owing self-sacrificial idiots anything.

There's a very simple way to pay Akai back for his kindness.

(A very selfish way.)

It's nothing unusual. They've done this a dozen times over, locked up together, so Rei might as well ask.

Rests his hand tentatively over Akai's, still on the gear stick, to test the waters. He counts it as a win when the agent doesn't flinch, only looks away.

"Akai. Would you like to stay the night?"

(Rei knows how bad Akai's insomnia gets on a good day. And if today's interactions have rattled him, he can hazard a guess as to how bad off Akai will be.)

It's only payback. Nothing more.

His heart beats quicker in objection.

Akai moves his hand under Rei's, and for a split second, he fears he's pushed the other too far.

Relief floods him, when the other agent simply turns his hand around, laces their fingers together. Akai's grip would be enough to break his bones, if he tried; but he's just holding him, firm and steady.

Akai sighs softly in the space between them. Finally, he looks at Rei again. There's fear in Akai's eyes, fear and hunger and restlessness and the emotions are switching up faster than Rei can read them.

They settle, eventually, on longing. Rei shivers under their intensity.

"Yes."

A smile blossoms on his face, but he's seen Akai's idiocy from up close one too many times to trust it just yet.

"Will you?"

Just because he wants something, doesn't mean Akai will permit himself to follow that impulse, self-sacrificial bastard that he is.

(It takes one to know one.)

"Are you requesting I stay?"

Rei doesn't even pretend to consider his options. This is an opening, and while it's unclear whether Akai feels exactly the same way, the comfort they feel in each other's presence is very real. It will have to be enough, for now.

His answer comes a little too quickly, too eagerly.

"If you promise to shower."

Akai squeezes his hand.

.

Before he shoos the agent into the bathroom ("You're my guest, you're showering first."), Rei tugs at the ribbon, releasing Akai's curls. He ruffles his stupidly gelled-back hair, just on this side of roughly. There. That's much better. He wasn't quite looking like himself, before.

"Don't forget to wash your hair, too."

.

[03:57] Morofushi Hiromitsu: He got you home safe?

[04:04] Furuya Rei: Yes.

[04:04] Morofushi Hiromitsu: Let me guess. He's still there?

[04:06] Furuya Rei: ...yes.

[04:06] Morofushi Hiromitsu: Good luck.

[04:06] Furuya Rei: It's not like that.

[04:07] Morofushi Hiromitsu: Sure.

[04:10] Furuya Rei: You get home safe, too.

[04:11] Morofushi Hiromitsu: Eh, I'm still catching up with Micchan.

[04:17] Morofushi Hiromitsu: This bar is kinda seedy though, if I disappear, start your search here.

[Morofushi Hiromitsu has shared his location.]

.

He could get used to seeing Akai's shoes, neatly set side by side with his own.

Akai's jacket, draped over the kitchen chair.

The smell of smoke, lingering in his flat.

Akai, undressing in his bathroom.

Akai, waiting in his bed.

Akai, freshly showered, flushed and slightly damp, still-

Shit.

.

By the time he emerges from the shower, the edge taken off a little, Rei has managed to put himself back together, somewhat.

The fresh clothing helps. At least he's physically presentable. Mentally...

They've done this before. There's no need to be nervous.

Except there's a shift that makes all the difference. Before, there was always plausible deniability. One of them half-asleep, injured, otherwise unwell. Fine, Rei's a little drunk, but Akai came here of his own, free will.

God. Rei hopes Akai wants this, too, isn't just going along with his selfish desires.

His stupid heart panics, beating a staccato rhythm. If this goes on, he'll need to see a physician. Or maybe that therapist Hiro suggested.

Damnit. He's an adult and in control of his impulses. He can share a bed with Akai. It will be fine. They'll lay side by side, like responsible adults. He didn't buy the double bed with Akai in mind, but there's enough space for the two of them. They won't even need to touch.

He wants to, though. Badly. Shuuichi's so warm, so lovely to hold. If only Rei had never touched him. He can't ever go back to not knowing the smoothness of Akai's skin, the softness of his hair.

Shit. He's getting too worked up.

Rei grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen, and heads over to the bedroom.

(There's too much space for just himself. It's nice that he's not alone, tonight.)

He pushes down the bedroom door handle with his elbow, balancing the glasses, tries to be quiet. It's unlikely, but he was gone for quite a while, and if by some miracle Akai's already asleep, he wouldn't want to wake him.

The bed is empty.

Panic spears through Rei, freezes him in the doorway. Did Akai hear him in the shower after all? He wasn't that loud, right-

With a creak, the balcony door opens, and Akai pads back in, the smell of smoke intensifying. Ah. He was being mindful of Rei's house rules.

So considerate it makes his heart hurt.

The poor thing is working overtime as it is. It's highly unfair that with dishevelled hair and wearing an oversized pyjama, Akai looks so overwhelmingly cute. Rei wants to drag him into bed and eat him alive.

Damnit.

"Couldn't sleep", is all Akai says, stifling a yawn.

Rei sets the glasses down on the bedside table.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Akai gives him a dark look, shakes his head.

"Not tonight."

Alright. It's not like Rei can't relate, so he drops the matter. For some of the things they've done, they can only ever distract themselves. Rei can help him relax, if he's willing to play.

He steps up to Akai, raising his hands as if to hug him -

"Off to bed with you."

- and shoves him roughly, sending the FBI agent tumbling.

Not one to go down without a fight, Akai grabs his arm as he falls. They land in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Akai managing to roll to the side and try to get on top of him.

Rei can't have that, so he struggles against him. pushes his arm between them, hoists his hip up, and reverses the pin, straddling Akai.

Shit.

Akai's so beautiful beneath him, hair fanning out, eyes bright, breathing elevated from the brief altercation. Wide awake and smiling.

Licking his lips, eager to continue.

Rei could-

He wants to-

Gods help him.

This is too fast. It was just supposed to be a distraction.

He can feel Akai stir against him.

Rei freezes. This isn't how it was supposed to go.

(At least he doesn't have to question anymore whether the attraction is mutual. Isn't that great.)

Akai takes the responsibility out of his hands.

Weaves a hand into Rei's hair, drags him down.

Looks for permission in his eyes.

And then, Akai kisses him.

.

Sweater Weather AU masterpost

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

something something trent crimm having very selective self confidence. in the sense that he's very sure of his ability in writing, as a journalist. he would argue he doesn't have self-esteem issues or issues with self-confidence because he knows he's good at what he does, even very good. he has strong opinions about football and sport in general, and he believes in those opinions--he's open-minded enough to be able to change his mind with evidence, but trusts his own judgement, knows he's intelligent and precise and knows his shit. all that is true. however. it's believing and knowing you are good at one thing and not really thinking you have much value outside of that. and maybe his skill as a writer and journalist isn't the only thing he has confidence in--maybe he knows he's a good dad, even if he's got a dreadful certainty he's a terrible husband--but then there's not thinking you have value as a person. he doesn't consider himself particularly likable, particularly attractive or interesting, particularly good or worthwhile or important to anyone. it's not that he thinks he's worthless--he's a good writer, and he's got a child to look after--but that's kind of it, isn't it? that's his worth. and maybe a nice head of hair, if you're into that sort of thing. so he can use that skill for good (he writes for ted, for nelson road, because he believes in them and that's what he's worth, that's all he can do, and he might as well give all he is to them, to ted, right?), now that he isn't a journalist anymore, and that's all. fine. and like just. something something believing trent believing he's inherently unlovable even though he desperately wants to be loved. but being resigned to the idea he won't be. not as a person, not for who he is. something something trent writing his book and being excited about it, confident in it, telling them if they disagree he's happy to tell them where they're wrong. something something for all that, for all that the only confidence he has is in his writing and his skill as a former journalist, that the rest of it is still hesitant and burgeoning nowhere near done blooming, he still tells ted, almost fragile, that he just wants ted to like it. rattled, anxious for approval, for once doubting the one thing he's good at because it's ted, and he wants ted to like it, to like him, to like his one good thing, the one thing he's got going for him, and ted--well. i mean. we know how that scene went. but ANYWAY. something something seeming confident because you are, but only in a specific area, something something slowly being taught that the rest of you has value too, that even if you never picked up a pen again you'd still be a wonderful person worthy of love, something something slowly opening up in a safe environment, a community you've been tugged into, and not being rejected, something something trent being a mentor for colin and part of the diamond dogs and friends with people there and being valued outside of his skills, even when he tries to help using those skills to help him--can take the journalism out of the boy and such--those aren't the reasons they like him. something something someone hug trent please

[pass1onepr1ncess]

DON'T READ THIS BEFORE FINISHING DANGANRONPA TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CHAPTER 2

Below is an analysis of Boy's Life of Despair- particularly how the entire chapter as a whole revolves around gender, queerness, and internalized issues regarding the aforementioned topics!

I know I just posted about this but I started thinking about Ishimaru listening to Pink Pony Club and sobbing bc of his family and reputation. My personal headcanon is that he's definitely gay but never got to unpack that bc he was more focused on being the Ultimate Moral Compass. And then he meets Mondo and starts to realize who he is and that even though their situation sucks that without his family and their status hanging over his head he's free to do some introspection and then just as he's started to find out who he is he loses the one person he's ever gotten that opportunity with and then goes mad with grief and denial not just for Mondo but also for his own identity. He was both grieving his “bro” and the authentic queer man he could've been and it caused him to force himself into the closet in a fit of mental illness and thinking that it's not worth it to find himself if it endangers others. Also Mondo was totally having a very similar if not exact reflection of this with Ishimaru and his internalizes homophobia is what lead to Trial 2 in the first place.

Internalized Homophobia AND toxic masculinity, EPECIALLY on Mondo's side. They both dealt with toxic masculinity but in very different ways. For Ishimaru it was about being a leader and someone the people could follow and have faith in, just like his grandfather was once. A man unbothered by any dilemma who could be a pillar of strength and motivation for any person to lean on, unfeeling and confident and strong. A grandiose statue, if you will.

For Mondo it was about being tough and intimidating, making sure no one would fuck with you and being a more stereotypical Man (at least in Western society). Though these perceptions come from different sources and at different angles, they end in the same result where both of these characters- even subconsciously- feel like they aren't allowed to be themself and instead have to become this molded shape of a man that suits their role in society- whether that be a future Prime Minister who will clear his family name of scandal and debt or a ruthless biker gang leader who doesn't take shit from anybody. Even if they want to, they aren't afforded the right to reflect.

In my mind, while Ishimaru was blissfully unaware of his queerness, Mondo Knew who he was but felt like he couldn't Be that person due to not only being the leader of the Crazy Diamond biker gang, but also because he wanted to be able to fill the shoes of his older brother- especially considering the fact that he feels responsible for Daiya's death.

(Also hi Jojo fans, if you recognize the "Crazy Diamond" biker gang then fun fact! Mondo is a MASSIVE Josuke reference! From his hair, the gang name- even the fact that his and his brother's names spell out "Daiya"-"Mondo!" And it's not the only Jojo reference in the Danganronpa franchise, either!)

Anyway, back on topic. Mondo Knew that he was queer, or at the very LEAST that he wasn't the Man he made himself out to be and that he wanted to be someone different. Someone softer, someone who didn't have to be so tough and intimidate everyone around him for fear of being undermined and not filling the shoes his older brother left for him. So he bottles up his feelings, hides who he really is. He gets angry, not at anyone in particular but angry that he's trapped in this facade of his own making.

So of course, when he finds out about Chihiro (She/They/He in this post btw), he gets even more angry. Chihiro is someone who's been able to experiment and express their identity. She doesn't care what other people think of her and decides to present and express however they feel comfortable- at least in Mondo's eyes. Chihiro has the freedom that Mondo craves so badly, and when she asks Mondo for help to be more Manly- something that Mondo feels like he's a fraud in- of course he gets angry. To Mondo, it seems like Chihiro is throwing this freedom away. This isn't actually the case, of course, but that's how Mondo percieves all of this.

All of this isn't meant to excuse Mondo's actions because I will never excuse or dismiss Literal Murder, but it does provide an explanation. Especially because the way Danganronpa itself handles Chapter 2 is abysmal. I was talking about with a dear friend (Hi, Mattie!) and we were talking about how Chapter 2 as a whole is 100% centered on gender and gender expression but how because it was horribly executed- no pun intended- that it falls so flat despite having the potentional to have a really nice nuanced take on toxic masculinity.

Even Chihiro experienced toxic masculinity! Because they didn't fit the "Big Strong Man" mold at a very young age, they were bullied and harassed for being weak and frail. So, they decided it would be better to be percieved as a girl than to be bullied as an effeminate boy.

Taking this opportunity to talk about MY PERSONAL HEADCANNONS and OPINIONS of Chihiro's gender identity. Which may not align with Your opinion, and it definitely doesn't align with canon- but that is okay! That's why it's a headcanon :). Anyway, personally I do think the Chihiro found comfort in femininity through the years of dressing as a girl. I don't feel like he's fully a trans woman, but I do think he's transfeminine! But in any case, moving along!

Literally every aspect and character involved in the core of Chapter 2's case and trial is centered on how gender affects us- especially how it affects men and AMAB individuals (excluding the whole Byakuya, Toko, and Syo debacle because that is. Another issue entirely and I will likely do an analysis on That as well, especially as someone with DID.)

Unfortunately, Danganronpa as a franchise has some decent ideas and then completely stumbles over itself with 8/10 on them! However, this series is incredibly dear to me and I can't bring myself to hate it. But! It's important to consume media with a critical lense. Don't forgive, excuse, and/or dismiss the faults of your favorites pieces of media just because you like them.

Anyway! A lot of this is headcanon but I also threw in some actual canon in there as well just for funsies skdjhfkjsf

[megamuscle885-blog]

TW: Suicide mention. Worm Spoilers.

Reprising my Neil Cicierega post from before about how "Mullet with Butterfly Wings" is a skitter/scurry/chitter song.

Crocodile Chop is a Gold Morning song. The lyrics are all very slurred and drunken. She's lurching around. Amy's hands on her as she "Wake(s) up!". "Why'd you leave the keys on the table?" Who's just leaving Amy alone with Taylor. They had to know she was going to do something drastic. Lisa should've, and that's the tragedy isn't it? "Here you go and create another fable." The myth, making Taylor into a weapon. Maybe I'm reading a little too much into it, but this is supposed to be a fun little post anyway, it's not too serious.

Except "I don't think you trust in my self-righteous suicide." is just a dead on, straight between the eyes, punch to the forehead shining example of Taylor Hebert's character in this moment.

The scream for Fathers feels a little bit like Taylor's frustrations with Danny, and maybe a little bit of QA (who is currently in the driver's seat) might be feeling a little forsaken by her father Scion herself in this moment? "Father into your hands I commend my spirit." and the whole section there, is SOAD directly lifting words from Jesus' crucifixion. This one's not a particularly deep take from me, but you can see Jesus' crucifixion as a kind of self-righteous suicide, huh? And Taylor is also putting herself on the line, as usual, and sacrificing any other kind of future she may have had for herself in favor of the greater good, and the unity of humanity. It's a consistent, doomed worldview she's held ever since "Cut Ties, I'm Sorry." entered the picture. She put the Undersiders aside. She spent more time with the Chicago Wards than them, and her time with them wasn't even worth mentioning in the text. She sets them aside too. She trains Golem because they have a shared enemy, but there's nothing else there. There can be nothing else there when she has to go die on the cross, unknowingly, but still. The Simurgh, Contessa and Dinah all conspiring to put her in the right place at the right time.

My read of SOAD's lyrics seem focused on the 'right to die', about how nobody truly deserves to die, but we all will die, but there are some people who are condemned regardless of their circumstances for the method of their death. Serj Tankian brings up his potential for dying in a drug overdose as his example of someone dying in a shameful way, and therefore 'deserving' to die. (This is just me paraphrasing the wikipedia entry I'm not uncovering new ground here lol). There's also the very literal Angel-like being hovering over the battlefield to consider.

Choosing how you go out is more than some people get. Except Taylor doesn't get to choose how she goes out in the end, does she? Taylor doesn't really have a choice here. The Simurgh chooses. Dinah chooses. Contessa chooses. That little static burst as the song fades out to "Transmission" (a little bit where a numbers radio is played interspersed with the introductory rift from David Bowie's Space Oddity) sounds like her turning her head to see Contessa sitting there with her gun in her hand.

All of this is set to Elton John's Crocodile Rock, which I haven't really listened to enough to have thoughts on it. I don't really have any deep takes on his side of the mashup, other than the fact that the piano and Serj's "Die" is pitch shifted to Elton's "laa, la-la-la-la-laa" making it very unsettling.

I've been listening to too much of Neil's music while driving to work and it's starting to mix together with all of the other brain worms, creating intricate mental AMVs, and it shows.

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 1)

Gif from this post by @ashr-jedi

Summary: You try out something new with Tech. As it turns out, like with pretty much everything, he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Relationship: Tech x f!reader (eventual mentions of Hunter x f!reader, Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader)

Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, domination, submission, humiliation, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, cock ring, saliva/drool, restraints, leather wrist cuffs, leather collar, naked and kneeling reader, subspace, tiny hint of poor self worth, star wars swearing, playing fast and loose star wars canon details, not beta read             

Word Count: 1604 (Chapter 1)

Authors Notes: Help I’ve written fanfic. This is the first time I’ve ever written fan fiction and the first time I’ve ever written smut so please be gentle. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing but this idea has latched onto my brain and refuses to let go so here we are. Creative writing is not my strong suit so I hope this is alright. 

Also, this is absolute filth. If you think this is saucy then strap in cause you ain't seen nothing yet. Tech says some truly filthy things in Chapter 5. Yes, there are 5 chapters of this monstrosity so far and I’m nowhere even close to the end. I’ve written 7700+ words of this thing. There’s 18 pages so far. What have I done to myself?! 

If I’ve screwed something up or forgotten a warning or missed something out, please gently let me know and I will be more than happy to fix it! 

Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you liked it and if you’d like to read Chapter 2 or more.

Chapters: Two, Three, Four, Five, Six | Ao3

Open and Waiting (Chapter 1)

The durasteel floor of the Marauder is cold.

Which makes sense. It is metal after all and we’re not exactly on the warmest of planets right now. 

What makes it particularly noticeable is that my bare legs are currently kneeling on said cold durasteel. In fact, my entire bare naked body is kneeling on the floor of the Marauder. Wrists cuffed behind my back, my right cheek pillowed against fabric stretched over a lean, muscular thigh and my jaw kept open as Tech’s cock just sits there on my tongue and fills my mouth. 

I’m grateful that he chose the softer leather cuffs with the adjustable chain. Saves my shoulders from being constantly wrenched back and the harsh metal of binders biting into my wrists. Tech has always been decidedly considered, thorough and aware of these matters though so it doesn’t surprise me. That man will assiduously research anything and everything, including new kinks to explore. I’m always nervous about broaching these sorts of topics, but at least with Tech I know he will approach the idea with an open, inquisitive mind before launching into discovering everything there is to know about my new suggestion.

When I first bought up the idea of trying cock warming with him, there was a definite flare of interest behind those goggles. It only increased as I did my best to explain the concept while valiantly trying to shove my worries and fears into the nearest storage crate. I know I shouldn’t be ashamed about my sexual interests, and Maker knows they all so gently remind me of this regularly, but old habits are hard to shake. I really shouldn’t have worried though because when Tech came and found me later that night, I’d hadn’t seen him that intensely interested in a new discovery in a while. 

Well, not since we found those rare Tarisian bark beetles anyway. 

So here I am, completely completely naked, save for a leather collar and cuffs, kneeling in the middle of our ship with Tech’s cock in my mouth. Just kneeling in front of him, completely still, arms restrained behind my back, cheek resting on his inner thigh, eyes closed, jaw slack, tongue touching my bottom lip, drool spilling out the sides of my mouth and dripping obscenely down my chin, and that glorious, firm cock just resting in my mouth, filling it up. 

There’s nothing I can do apart from kneel here and drool around Tech’s cock. 

Nothing I’m allowed to do either. Sir was very clear that I was to make no movement whatsoever. Not even to swallow. Which is why my mouth and chin are now covered in my own drool and I’m sure I must be making a complete mess of the floor. 

At least durasteel is fairly easy to clean up and wipe down. Trying to get stains out of the red leather of the cockpit chairs is another matter entirely.

Tech is sitting on a storage crate while he tinkers with a project on the fold down workbench above me. Those long rangy legs bracketing me in. Close, but not quite close enough to touch the rest of my body, apart from where my cheek rests against his inner thigh. 

Damn man knows exactly what he’s doing.

Heavy boots rest on the floor well past where I’m kneeling and serve as another reminder of just how tall and imposing Tech can be. He might not be as overtly muscular as Wrecker or even Hunter but that lean frame belies a beskar imbued strength. At six foot four, Tech absolutely towers over me, even when he’s sitting and I’m kneeling on the floor between his thighs. He’s an all encompassing presence and it’s making something curl deep within my gut.

It’s also making my cunt wet but there���s not much I can do about that right now.

At the end of our pre-session conversation, Tech also gave me strict instructions that I was not to touch myself. While that’s a little hard to do with my hands cuffed behind my back, Tech could’ve bound my hands directly to my cunt and I still wouldn’t have done a damn thing. He knows how desperately I crave praise and will do anything to be his good little girl–

Oh kriff, don’t think about that right now. Don’t think about Tech calling me a good girl. Do not think about it. You’re just going to make your current predicament even worse. 

Dank farrik, my pussy is definitely wetter now. It’s going to end up dripping onto the floor and then there will be an even bigger blotch beneath me.  

The collection of drool covering the lower half of my face and hanging off my chin has been progressively getting worse the longer this has gone on. The humiliation of being turned into a drooling mess is both delicious and excruciating and my poor hazy brain cannot figure out whether it wants to lean into it or run away. I’ve been stripped down and reduced to nothing but a tight, hot void to keep Tech’s cock warm. 

Warm, and hard.

When we started, Tech had certainly been interested but he wasn’t exactly at full mast either. It had been fairly easy for him to slide my open and eager mouth over his cock before gloved hands gently leant my head against his inner thigh. Since then he’s been steadily hardening inside my mouth while he completely ignores me and works on his current project that is strewn in bits across the workbench above. It’s almost like the more I drool, the harder he gets. I can just start to taste the hint of his pre-cum when that clipped, precise voice breaks through the silence above me.

“I require an additional tool and need to momentarily step away in order to retrieve it. This will necessitate briefly moving your position. You will remain kneeling with your eyes closed and mouth open. Am I understood?”

I do my best to answer with a “Yes Sir” around his cock but all it ends up sounding like is a garbled “...eth…er”. Thankfully, this must be enough to appease him because a gloved hand is running through my hair before gently moving my head and then pulling my mouth from his hard cock. I can feel the heaviness of it slide over my tongue and brush my bottom lip as the solid weight leaves my mouth. There’s a moment of bereft emptiness before a collection of drool follows Tech’s cock out of my mouth and spills over my chin in a wave of tantalising humiliation. Tech doesn’t immediately move and I realise he must be observing me. 

Observing his naked, collared and restrained submissive kneeling in front of him with their mouth open and drool hanging from their chin.

I must look like a completely and utterly ruined mess.

The thought only serves to cause a further spike in delectable humiliation.

After a laden beat, Tech rises from the storage crate, effortlessly swings a leg over my head and then marches off towards his bunk. The slide of metal dragging against metal can be heard before a soft click signifies that his personal storage box has been unlocked.

Why is he going through there? His tools are usually kept in mystifyingly precise locations around the ship if they’re not already on his person.

A few more clicks indicate that an internal compartment has been opened and whatever he was looking for must have been inside because the lock-box is swiftly snapped shut and shoved back under his bunk.

A marked stride makes its way back to my position of supplication on the floor but Tech doesn’t immediately sit down. 

I’m being observed again.

I can’t do anything to stop the reactive shiver that runs through me at the realisation. 

There’s an odd, slightly slick sliding noise above me and then Tech is sitting back down on the storage crate. A hand runs over my head as he tells me–

“You will assume your previous position.”

I’m given no chance to respond as he pushes at the back of my head, making my mouth slide over his cock again. My cheek is leant against his inner thigh once more and then I’m left there just as I was moments before, mouth full of Tech’s cock while he goes back to working on his current project.

As I breathe through the returned presence of his cock filling my mouth, I realise that my nose had just barely brushed against something smooth and different.

A cock ring.

So that’s the additional tool he required.

I’m not sure I’d call a cock ring a tool but I’m in no position to argue. Tech must be enjoying this even more than I thought if he’s had to pull one of those out of his collection. I can’t tell which one it is, though if it starts vibrating then at least I’ll know it's one of his later inventions.    

I almost startle out of my rumination on Tech’s assortment of toys when long fingers card through my hair and his palm smooths over my head. The tips of those fingers start lightly scritching back and forth against my scalp and I have to stop myself from moaning and going completely boneless against him. It’s soft and gentle and, despite the fact that I’m basically just a glorified cock sleeve for him at this point, it’s oddly calming. Tech continues to tenderly caress my head and I drift, floating in a haze of submission. 

Drool continues to drip onto the floor of the Marauder.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-three

| @amuhav

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: Elion? KYRIE: My hero. Fast asleep on the clock. ELION: And look, you’re stood there without a scratch. This job is so easy I can do it with my eyes closed. TAYUIN: You should take it more seriously. If he’s hurt, it’s on you. ELION: Fiery little faerie, aren’t you? Are you going to start barking if I get too close? KYRIE: Knock it off. ELION: I’ll assume your sour moods means this was a fully clothed outing? How unfortunate for me. Next time I tell you to loosen up, do take it literally. KYRIE: scoffs We’re going back now. ELION: Sure, sure. Lead the way, Oh Moonlit One. KYRIE: Thank you for coming out with me, and for… the other thing. TAYUIN: It was no trouble. KYRIE: There’s still time before the next trial, if you want to talk about… anything… well, you know where to find me. TAYUIN: It was nice. KYRIE: What? TAYUIN: It was a nice day, before, well, you know… But, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed the time away. KYRIE: I’m really glad. ELION: I’ve never found conservative types like you interesting. So very measured and polite about everything. If you love the little winged beastie, you should say so loudly and with great vigor. KYRIE: I’m not in love with Tayuin. ELION: Are you very sure about that? KYRIE: Why do you care so much, anyways? ELION: I don’t. Just casually reminding you yet again that this could all be over tomorrow. KYRIE: What do you mean? ELION: You’re being hunted, remember? Or have you already forgotten why I’m here? I expect you’ve come to realize the significance of it. Instead of sending your pets to do your dirty work, you could try simply asking. KYRIE: You… know Tay stole the ransom letter. ELION: Of course I know. Your High Priestess might not be privy to your scheming, but that’s because it’s my job. And frankly, I’m getting exhausted giving out all these opportunities for you to be honest with me. KYRIE: Not only are you highly observant, you’re also annoyingly intuitive. ELION: An elf of many talents, if you will. KYRIE: Then, enough about my honesty. How about you be a little more forthcoming? What do you know of the Knights of Dawn? ELION: I know they’re a disgruntled bunch of agitators that have become a particularly obtuse thorn in the church’s side as of late. KYRIE: Who are they? ELION: No one knows. All members of this group keep their true identities strictly confidential. They work as an anonymous, but highly organized unit. Their abduction of your sister was likely months in the making. And considering just how well-guarded you lunar priests are, it’s almost certain they’re working off of inside information. KYRIE: They’ve infiltrated the clergy? ELION: Mm, without a doubt. It’s rather problematic, if I’m honest. Spreading panic is only a fraction of the problem; The more people who know about the plot, the more risky it becomes when any and everyone is a possible suspect. KYRIE: Then, it’s no wonder they called in an anori. Your rank alone acts as deterrent. ELION: And you’re very lucky I’m here, but do I get a single thank you? I’m underappreciated! (sob sob) KYRIE: Then, this was their scheme all along. Wait for an opening to take one of us, and use them as a bartering chip. ELION: Yes, but you two have the unfortunate advantage of being twins. For their plan to work, they have to take the spare off the table. KYRIE: And if the church doesn’t agree to their terms? ELION: It’s a small mercy they’re offering with the ransom. The High Priestess knows this well. It is more than sure your sister will not survive this, all she can do is be certain that you do.