#anyway as you can probably imagine I repeat I am not the person for this job

[elainemorisi]

perhaps, for my thirties, it is time to harness my powers of not giving a solitary shit what people think of me and Learn Conversation by brute force and repetition, because hoo boy, my generation, the skill, she is lost

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

“Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame”

After everything she’s been through, falling in love was the last thing she thought she’d ever achieve. And yet, even though she thought herself completely undeserving of anyone’s feelings, she still yearned for it… Maybe you’ll be the one to grant her wish.

characters: Furina x gn!reader

words: ~6360

warnings: spoilers for the 4.2 Archon Quest and Furina’s Story Quest

a/n: So I thought “let’s write something short for Furina, probably won't take too long”, and here I am now, writing this since thursday and with a total of 12 or so pages...

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

There were many things that had changed in the life of the human once known as Fontaine’s beloved archon after the waters swept through Fontaine, engulfing the entire nation as prophesied and leaving her crying on the same chair she had sat down almost an hour before, still devastated from everything that had happened, only for the water to recede once more, leaving the city destroyed but its residents unharmed…

In those moments, Furina couldn’t imagine any of her past subjects being willing to ever look her in the eyes with anything but scorn again, considering how she had lied to them all for hundreds of years, pretending to be their Archon when she was nothing more than a normal human girl drawing nearer and nearer to unavoidable doom… She couldn’t imagine things to turn better in her personal life at all either, having been sentenced to death in front of everyone not too long ago… and yet here she was, reading through the script passed to her by the director, being asked for her opinion and recommendations the same way as when she was still putting on that horrible masquerade.

“My eyes can’t spot any glaring sins in writing in this dialogue… in other words, it’s good, as expected from someone as talented as you, director”, Furina responded once her eyes finally separated from the sheets of paper, catching herself falling back into those theatrical speech patterns she had grown so accustomed to, her lips curling into a polite smile as the director thanked her before quickly moving on to talk to another person.

It had taken Furina quite some time to return to the world of acting, and even after her appearance in the little Oceanid she tried restraining herself from diving head-first into the show-biz again and while there was barely a week she didn’t receive an invitation for a role for the next up-and-coming show, not even being asked for an interview first, acting played the second fiddle when compared to trying to get some time for herself. For centuries her every move was intensely watched, with the only hours she was truly alone being when she was asleep, so getting some time where she was free to try her hands at things in the comfort of her new home was a nice change of pace… especially since her cooking might have required some more refining.

But while Furina was finally free to live the life she always wanted… there still weren’t that many people she could call her friends. The traveler and their companion always on all sorts of adventures, while she still hesitated to reach out to her past colleagues, doubting if they even still wanted her around in the first place.

“Mhm, how could I forget I was dealing with the greatest of actors in all of Teyvat, just remember to look at the stairs the next time we’re on stage, we don’t want a repeat of last time, don’t we?”, the voice of one of her fellow actors rang out, causing Furina to look at the source of the sound, only to see a small group of her coworkers huddled around each other, joking and teasing around while rehearsing their lines and laughing at all kinds of stories of their past and inside jokes… both things still seemingly far out of reach for herself, at least for now. She didn’t like to admit it, but she felt a bit jealous.

Suddenly feeling out of place, Furina forced her eyes back onto the papers in her head, trying to read through her scenes once again, only to find her mind filled with all kinds of different thoughts.

Which sauce should I be trying today? Bolognese? Alfredo? Something new might be nice… but do I really feel like experimenting today? Maybe I should just go out to eat once in a while. It felt like a lifetime since I last visited that bakery near the city center… oh yeah, they shut down a generation ago.

Before she knew it, she sunk further and further into her thoughts, only to suddenly be startled when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, causing the culprit to follow suit.

“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to tell you that today’s rehearsal was over, but you seemed spaced out, so I thought…”, you apologized after quickly pulling your hand away, a look of slight embarrassment on your face before it quickly disappeared again, replaced by a smile that made her heart stop. For a split-second, Furina was about to refute your claim of her spacing out in public, her mouth still working on her centuries old autopilot, only for her to stop herself before a tone could come out, giving you a silent nod of her head.

But while this had ought to be it with your conversation for the day, Furina’s mouth refused to close, the realization that if she didn’t do anything about it, she was just going to go home, do the same thing she always did, eat the same meal she had… admittedly grown a bit sick off, even though she’d rather walk through hell and back before admitting to that flying companion of the traveler that they may have been somewhat right to judge her cooking skills, and get not a single step closer to finally using the chance at living the human life she had always wanted, instead just wasting her days with no meaningful connections until her time would run out quickly dawning on her. 

And so, before any of her anxieties could stop her words were pouring out of her mouth once again. 

“Do you have some spare time to rehearse our dialogues? I didn’t have the chance to see you in action yet, and I’d like to see if you’re worthy of acting alongside me.”

If it wasn’t for her self-control returning to her body at that exact moment, she would have facepalmed herself with enough force to leave an imprint, the cocky remark at the end a textbook example of the bad habits she still struggled getting rid off.

Surprisingly enough however, you didn’t seem insulted, nor disgusted by someone like her, who could not even do anything but watch in her nation's biggest crises, having the galls to look down on someone else. A grin that stretched from ear to ear finding itself on your face instead, your hand reaching out almost instantly as you offered her a handshake. 

“Sure, Miss Furina, let me show you what I’m made of.”

Before she could think things over however, her hand had already grown a mind of its own, shaking yours as she spouted out another confident boast.

“Are you out of your mind?! What good does it do to anyone if you go and throw your life away in a pointless duel? You could have at least asked me for my opinion before challenging him out of nowhere!”, you snapped, a mixture of anger and desperation seeping through your voice as you took a step towards Furina, leaning slightly forward, only to jerk back when she did the same, almost making your foreheads collide.

“I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission for anything. Challenging him might not have been the right course of action, I admit that, but at least it is an action. You hear the townsfolk weep whenever he and his band of mercenaries march into the townsquare and extort them for all their worth. So I’m not going to apologize for trying to help instead of just watching from the sidelines as you love to do”, before you could manage to say another word, Furina had turned around and stamped away, completely ignoring you calling out her name before you were all one… once again.

“Well, you are quite talented, I have to admit. I can see why you were hired to play alongside me. Although you still have a long way ahead of you if you wish to get as good as me”, Furina spoke half-jokingly, she never doubted your acting skills in the first place, she had heard of how talented you were after all, but given her excuse earlier, that wasn’t exactly something she could admit.

“Thanks Miss Furina, it’s an honor to hear someone like you say that. I hope I’ll be able to improve my acting while working alongside you”, you were quick to respond, putting your hand on your chest before giving her a small bow, leaving the actress stumped by your sudden modesty.

What’s this? Where are the competitive remarks you had been spewing out during the entirety of your private rehearsal? Why are you so… modest now?

Furina’s expression must have done a great job at revealing her inner monologue as you were quick to respond.

“Is something the matter, Miss Furina?”, you asked in the same calm tone, only for her to quickly turn her head away, as she realized she had been staring.

“N-nothing”, Furina responded in a subdued manner, looking out of the window and watching the streets grow less and less populated as the sun started to set, painting the skies in colors that made her want to whip out her camera and snap a picture or two.

As the silence stretched longer however, and the colors faded from the skies, Furina was teleported back into reality when your footsteps echoed through the room, approaching the front door one step at a time, causing her to turn around to face you once again.

“Thanks a lot, Miss Furina. I’ve learned a lot today”, you stated with a small smile, your hand already touching the doorknob when Furina interrupted your exit.

“Let’s go home together, I’m not too fond of the city's alleyways once they get covered in darkness”, she suggested. The phrase “not too fond” being a bit of an understatement considering her run-in with near death all those moons ago. And yet, Furina couldn’t help but feel a bit silly for asking you to accompany her, she was an adult after all, one that didn’t have that much of a chance to live life yet, but one nonetheless. But before she had the chance to open her mouth and spout an excuse you were already holding the door open for her, gesturing her to step out first.

“And we’ve arrived”, Furina announced, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that it took you a few steps to realize she was no longer by your side, quickly turning around and seeing her proudly point at the building in front of you. It was a lot smaller than you expected, considering she was the previous Archon and still widely appreciated as an actor. The burning lights in one of its windows made it pretty clear that her apartment wasn’t the only one in the building. But it was far from shabby. It had a nice exterior, was located near the city center and only a few steps away from some major shops, a nice house all in all.

“What? Left speechless by my abode? You flatter me”, she asked theatrically once the silence grew a bit too long to be considered anything but awkward, her voice hiding the faintest hint of nervousness.

“It’s pretty, I wish I’d have a place from which everything was as quickly reachable as from here”, you responded, a polite smile making its way onto your face as Furina’s head tilted by a bit. 

“Don’t you live somewhere near here?”

A shake of your head was enough to make her eyes widen, but once your response left your mouth, you saw her jaw hit the ground. “I live on the other side of the city, so it’s always a bit of a footmarch to get here.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me if I knew you’d have to march all across the city to get home afterwards”, apologies quickly started flooding out of her mouth, obviously feeling bad about her previous request, but when you simply waved her worries off, she grew silent once again.

“It’s no problem. I look forward to our next rehearsal”, you said your goodbyes, only for Furina’s voice to once again stop you in your tracks. 

“Next rehearsal?”

At that exact moment, something in your brain clicked. Today was a one off thing, you had proven your worth as an acting colleague after all, so there was no reason for this to continue. The realization hit like a rock, you had enjoyed it after all, even if you had once again fallen into your old habits of becoming too boastful and competitive once your rehearsal’s started to get into motion.

“Sure, see you tomorrow!”, just as you were starting to think about breaking the silence by apologizing, her voice rang out to snap you out of it, a small smile on her face once you dared to look back up at her.

“Good work as always, Miss Furina. It really felt like I was talking to another person just now”, words of praise left your mouth in place of the line you were actually supposed to say, catching her completely off guard to the point her cheeks started to blush a bit. 

"T-Thanks? Did you forget your line all of a sudden or did the script change?”, she shot back with a tease, hoping it would be enough to serve as a distraction from her face. Instead of making your eyes look away however, your stare grew more intense, to the point she was fearing she might have said something very insensitive.

“I don’t forget my lines, Miss Furina, that’s not something that happens. Scratch that, I don’t forget lines at all, I’m pretty sure I could recite your part from memory at this point”, you shot back with a big grin on your face, your competitive spirit seemingly having been reawakened.

While Furina herself liked to indulge herself in boasting about her skills from time to time, she learned that there came a time when words alone were no longer satisfactory and had to be backed up by actions, so when she heard your remark she didn’t hesitate for even a second to take you up on it, laughter escaping her mouth as she struck a confident pose.

“Heh, well then, bless me with your performance, oh great and mighty one.”

What followed was silence, as you seemed to get lost in thought, your ear-to-ear grin slowly vanishing as your face returned to normal, but once the actress was finally about to offer you a chance out, you started your monologue. One, which while only seeming slightly familiar to her at first, quickly crystallized itself as none other than her character’s from the little oceanid. And while Furina had to admit to herself that you did a pretty good job remembering it, not only knowing what to say, but also when to pause, making it appear as easy as reading it from a script, the way you tried to imitate her voice even if yours was so different from hers made the corners of her lips curl into a smile. Whether it was out of admiration or meant as a parody of her she didn’t know, what she did know however, was that she couldn’t be angry at you even if you were trying to make fun of her, simply finding herself smiling at the thought.

“So you’re either so obsessed with the idea of impressing me that you learned every single one of my lines from heart, or you’re secretly my biggest fan”, Furina joked, only to find you shooting her a smile.

“I couldn’t help it, the little oceanid was just too good for me not to watch it more than once”, you refuted her accusation, finishing the graceful bow you had tried performing before being interrupted by the person in front of you.

“Well, Miss Furina. You’ve heard my rendition of your lines, so make sure to do your homework and read some of mine. Or are you scared you wouldn’t manage it as stunningly as me”, you challenged her before quickly putting on your jacket, opening the door and holding it open until the two of you had stepped outside.

There was no rational reason for her to accept. Taking on extra work when she already had to study enough lines for the play for no other reason than to fuel your urge for competition? That sounded a bit too absurd, even for her. Especially for her.

“Well, let yourself be amazed. Just don’t come crawling to me afterwards begging me to stop humiliating you so thoroughly.”

As Furina silently watched you chop together whatever ingredients she found at home from the dinner table, she couldn’t help but think about how wrong what was supposed to be nothing but another one of your private rehearsals had turned out…

“Bravo! It almost felt like looking into a mirror”, you exclaimed while clapping once Furina had finished reciting your lines perfectly, striking a pose that practically screamed at you to praise her more, a request you were all too willing to indulge her in.

“I’m starting to worry for every actor’s career, considering how you seem to be able to play every role you can get your hands on, Miss Furina”, you continued, only for her face to get happier with each passing word, before eventually raising her hand.

“This should suffice. Do not fret for your career, I’ll make sure to secure you a role alongside me if you ever find your pool of possibilities to suffer from a drought.”

You had a fully prepared response ready, but when you noticed the dark clouds covering the usually colorful sky, you quickly sidelined your current thoughts, choosing to focus on what seemed important.

“It might not be a bad idea to finish for today. It seems like it’s going to rain… and quite a lot at that”, you stated before pointing out of the window, causing Furina’s eyes to wander to where you’d been pointing, only for her to let out a deep groan.

“Rain? Why now? Couldn’t it have rained at night?” She complained to no one in particular, turning around and grabbing her jacket, giving you a small smile as you held the door open once again before speaking up.

“You should head straight home, or else you might not make it before the rain starts.”

“Heh, I’m not made out of sugar. I’ll be fine”, you joked in a confident tone, almost as if challenging the sky to try and wash you away with a flood, ignoring her attempts at playing the voice of reason…

“How’s the rain?”, you asked from the other room, trying your hardest to multitask everything from holding a conversation, walking around the kitchen, peeling some potatoes, cutting a carrot or two and not starting a house fire by accidentally leaving the stove on for a little too long.

“Not great, it seems to have gotten worse”, Furina responded in a meek voice, continuing to stare out of the window, refusing to look in your general direction, too scared of what sort of look she might find on your face.

“Something wrong? You’re unusually quiet”, you asked, only to get a semi-attentive hum as a response. 

If only you had agreed to go home on your own instead of accompanying her, maybe then you wouldn’t have to see the inside of her apartment. Sure, she wasn’t as depressed as she was before rekindling her passion for acting, leaving her home far more often and for different reasons than just to buy macaroni, but that still didn’t mean her home looked too much different from back then. 

With how little time she spent in it during the day, going to your private rehearsing sessions whenever she found the time… which she admittedly did have a lot of, and how tired she was when returning home, only wishing to grab a bowl of pasta and sauce before falling asleep almost instantly, there wasn’t exactly that much time she had for cleaning. But it was fine, she was eventually going to get around to do it, tomorrow maybe, she was tired already after all. Unfortunately for her however, the rain came before “tomorrow” could finally make its appearance. Now forced with the choice of either letting you see this rather pathetic side of her or forcing you to go home in this horrible storm, Furina couldn’t stomach the thought of shutting her door in front of you, and so… this happened.

“Here, it’s a recipe my father always used to make whenever there wasn’t much around. It requires little ingredients and tastes pretty good for how little time it takes”, you stated before setting down a plate in front of her, meeting her glance upwards with a smile you hoped would cheer her up somehow.

“Now that I think about it, you would have loved that old man. He had a lot of stories to tell, enough for him to write a small book about them. Apparently they found some popularity abroad for a few years, it would surprise you how much it netted him. Enough to take us on a small holiday abroad”, you talked to fill the silence, sitting down on the opposite chair from her, digging into your meal almost instantly.

“Was your father an adventurer?”, Furina eventually asked, catching you by surprise as you struggled to gulp down the last bite as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave her waiting for a response. 

“No, a clerk. Quite a boring job, but what his life missed in adventures, his imagination made up for”, you responded before just as quickly continuing, “My mother however was one, quite a passionate one at that. We couldn’t exactly see her too often because of that, but whenever we did, she returned with all kinds of treasures.”

“I’m sorry”, came the words from Furina’s mouth, almost silent enough for you to miss them, confusing you for a split second, but just as you were about to reassure her that it was fine and she had no need to feel bad for asking about your parents, her voice rang through the room once again. “I should have cleaned up, it’s just that I didn’t know you were going to come over today and… things have been a bit difficult.”

Only at that moment did you look around the room, trying to understand what she was talking about, and sure enough, there were quite a few things one could point out as not exactly being tidy, but considering how much worse apartments you had witnessed over the years, it was nothing too bad. No matter how much she talked herself down, Furina still made sure her home had a certain level of tidiness, after all.

“No need to apologize, it’s really not that bad, especially considering you probably weren’t too used to living alone before. If you need help with anything however, just tell me and I’ll lend you a hand. The only thing I’m judging you for are your acting skills after all”, you responded half-jokingly and while it didn’t seem to have too much of an effect at first, you did notice Furina gradually returning to her usual self during the course of your meal.

Eventually however, the storm finally subsided, leaving you free to finally return home. “Thanks a lot for today’s rehearsal and for letting me stay here instead of walking through the rain. Until next time, Furina”, you said your goodbyes only for Furina to quickly step forward and open the door for you, gesturing you to step through the door with a smile once again adorning her lips.

The following weeks brought surprisingly little changes to Furina’s schedule, something that would have usually meant a lot of discontent from her side, considering how she liked to spice things up every now and again, detesting the idea of living through the same cycle day in and day out. And yet, she found herself rather content with it all. And although your private rehearsals still continued outside of your normal one’s, they strayed further and further from their original goal as time went on, both of you starting to simply use it as a convenient excuse to hang out instead of solely using it to rehearse.

And so, after you had managed to rehearse the few remaining lines until you knew them from both heart and memory, the two of you still found yourself with a lot of time left, the sun still far from setting as it illuminated even the least accessible corners of Fontaine. Furina had nearly suggested parting for the day, when you had come up with a different idea, one she found herself easily getting on board with.

“Would you like to go eat somewhere? I feel like I’m starving”, if it hadn’t been for the sound of your stomach rumbling, Furina could have caught herself thinking you were simply too shy to ask her to spend a bit more time together, and while your face was as red as she imagined her own would be when asking you out on a date, it was a safe bet to say you blushing probably had a lot more to do with the previously mentioned reason than with anything romantic.

And here you were now, sitting at a table for two in a cafe she had always wanted to visit but didn’t find the time to, Furina already having placed her order while you still struggled with choosing what you’d like to eat, intensely staring at the menu in your hand while subconsciously making a… rather cute face. It had taken her quite a bit of convincing to make the cafe owner accept money from her, arguing that there was no reason to treat her any differently from the other citizens since she wasn’t their Archon any more, but even then the two of them could only agree on a discount, and yet all the conflicted feelings the undeserved, preferential treatment made her feel, vanished into thin air while she observed you, a small smile making its way onto her face when your eyes widened the moment they skimmed over the parfait section.

“Looks like you made your decision”, she joked as you got startled by the sound of her voice, your face turning red as you avoided eye-contact.

“No, I was just wondering why they were selling parfaits in a cafe like this. I doubt there’s any children visiting this place”, you argued back, only for the blue-haired girl's smile to get ever so slightly bigger.

Oh my, what happened to your usual self? Was all it took for you to get self-conscious to be surrounded by strangers in a public place? If so, she was surprised you could walk onto the stage as easily as you did, never so much as showing the slightest hint of nervousness while acting.

“Excuse me, could I have two parfaits please”, she asked the server passing by, only to receive a nod of acknowledgement before they wrote something down.

“Didn’t you already order something?”, was all you had to ask, the slightest hint of teasing in your voice, only for Furina to give you a small smile in return.

“Just demonstrating how easy it can be to pick something. Did it help?”

When she saw you struggle not to smile at her comment, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself by taking a sip of her drink and before she knew it, you had finally managed to order a drink, only for her second order to arrive merely moments after you had done so. Without saying a word, she slid one of the two desserts over to you before quickly making up an excuse to appease your mind.

“I may have ordered a bit too much for myself, would you mind sharing?”

When you finally finished your act of reluctantly accepting the food and took your first bite, only to throw any semblance of ego out of the window as you practically began melting in front of her the second your spoon made contact with the inside of your mouth. It was then that Furina caught herself shamelessly staring at you, ignoring her own food entirely as her stomach was filled with butterflies at the sight of how happy you were. It was cute, there was no use in calling it anything else anymore, and the thought that you were this happy just because of her filled her with an indescribable feeling. Sure, there had been many times she inspired positive feelings in others, but never before in her entire life was it anyone she considered close, so knowing she could make your days a little brighter with small deeds like these gave her hopes that she wasn’t completely without a purpose in life.

She hadn’t even noticed her mouth slightly opening before your voice had brought her back to reality, instantly causing her to turn away as her face heated up. 

“Do I have something on my face?”, you asked, only for Furina to try her best at playing it off, nervously piecing her response together word for word until she had found something workable, something that allowed the day to continue for a little bit longer before you eventually had to part ways.

As time went on, both of you began to care less and less about the big show on your doorstep, you had spent more time than anyone reciting your lines, learning them until you knew them better than their author, studied your choreography until you were certain you would be able to seamlessly perform your roles even in pitch-black darkness and were instead spending most of your time together doing what you wanted, already having practiced everything there was...

Well, there was one more scene left for the two of you to rehearse. One you two had procrastinated on for weeks. Was it because it was the final scene in the play or because the longer Furina got to know you, the more nervous she became whenever it got closer. You had miraculously avoided having to rehearse it with the others around, Furina bluffing her way out of it by telling the director doing so was just a waste of time, since it only required the two of you and you had practiced it often enough in private for there to be any need. The whole discussion was embarrassing, but far less mentally scarring than it would have been if she hadn’t said anything. 

That being said, today was the last chance to rehearse it, and while neither of you had any problems with anything up until now, you could see her grow more and more tense with every word you spoke.

“I have many regrets in my life, whether one of my many mistakes and shortcomings, or moments in which I stood and watched while I should have acted. I chose to follow you, even though it meant I’d see many of those I treasured the most leave without saying their goodbyes. I fought with you at least as often as I fought by your side, often facing death head on, and still I wear more scars on my heart than on my body”, you spoke with an aura of certainty, one that forced people to listen whether they wanted to or not, your voice was strict as if lecturing someone yet still carried a hint of gratitude, one getting more noticeable once your face softened, “And yet, if I were given the chance to go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. Because no matter how much misery this path I took led me to, it also allowed me to stay by your side, something I wouldn’t trade for anything this world has to offer.”

“Why?”, Furina asked in a tone that was as soft as it was confused, only for you to smile in response, one, while amused in nature, still shined as radiantly as a stagelight.

“Because I love you.”

Furina was a masterful actress, being able to come up with suitable responses on the go and, with the exception of a few cases, never breaking character. And yet, even though she knew fully well what the script intended for you to do, when you started to slowly lean in, she just couldn’t do it, shutting her eyes in embarrassment as her face turned red enough to match a tomato.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t!”, she practically screamed in your face, only to immediately apologize, feeling herself shrinking as she wished for nothing more than to sink through the floor. And yet, her wish wasn’t granted, and instead she found herself still standing in front of you the next time she opened her eyes, just in a far more pathetic manner than previously.

When Furina looked up at your face however, the shocked look on your face spoke more than a million words, your questions being so clearly on display that they might as well just be written all over your forehead.

“No problem, I’m sure it must be awkward to do this with a friend, even if it’s just for show… Ah, just imagine someone else, like a-... celebrity you had a crush on… or a cardboard cut-out of yourself”, you tried to lift the mood with a small joke, barely managing to raise the corners of your lips yourself when you saw her still worried face.

“I-... never did this before”, Furina murmured out, barely loud enough for it to be intelligible, and yet, you picked up on it, immediately raising your eyebrows.

“Kiss someone for a play?”, you asked, only for the former Archon to shake her head, her face turning a deep red as you saw her struggle to speak.

“Kiss… someone.” It shouldn’t be such a big deal, she spent the last 500 years playing the role of the Archon of Fontaine, never as much as making a single meaningful human connection, so her not having a slither of romantic experience was nothing surprising. Kissing anyone else for a play also wouldn’t have been that difficult, since Furina was sure she’d be able to enter her professional mode and just see it as a normal part of her career, and yet, with you, she found the task almost insurmountable, her heart beating with such ferocity and pace that it was a wonder you couldn’t hear it while she grew so nervous that it became difficult to breathe whenever you said or did anything romantic… even if it was clearly just part of the script. 

“Oh”, was all you managed to say, a downcast expression setting on your face for a split second before it quickly vanished, replaced with an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry I have to be your first, I’m sure you’d want to save it for someone special, but considering we don’t have any rehearsals until the show anymore we have to practice the scene today”, you stated only for worry to once again fill your mind when Furina didn’t seem to react at all, simply having shut her eyes while taking deep breaths, only to suddenly spring in action the moment you opened your mouth to say something once again, pressing her lips against yours with such determination that it took you completely off-guard, before eventually pulling away.

“There’s no one else I’d want to give my first kiss to more than you”, Furina spoke, having summoned enough courage to finally speak again, although her voice was still somewhat shaky. It took you a few moments to finally comprehend what was happening, although by the time you did, she had already started her next sentence.

“I love you. I don’t know for how long, but I know why. I love to make you smile, I love to hear your laugh. I love that you didn’t judge me no matter how arrogant and overly brazen I can be from time to time or no matter what a mess I am outside of acting. Without you my only interactions would either be for work or with the shop owner. I’ve learned and experienced so much these past few months, and I know it wouldn’t have been possible on my own. You confide in me so much, and I wish for nothing more than to finally start doing the same, but I still can’t bring myself to do it when there’s just the smallest possibility of us not seeing each other again once this play is done. So will you please tell me how you feel so I can put either my wishes or fears to rest?”

Now that Furina voiced her feelings, she felt herself deflate like a balloon, all of her summoned courage leaving her body as she started to squirm at how cheesy she sounded, but before she could fall into old habits and start looking for an escape, she was brought back to reality by the feeling of her hands being taken into yours, causing her to look up for a split-second, one long enough for you to give her your answer by placing your lips on her’s.

“Was that enough to get my feelings across, Furina?” The moment the words left your mouth, Furina embraced you in a hug, holding onto you as if her life depended on it before you quickly put your arms around her as well, only for the sound of her sobbing to cause a mixture of worry and confusion to flare up inside of you. Just as you were about to comfort her however, you were interrupted by a giggle, faint at first but growing louder until Furina was laughing to herself in between her tears, her lips curled into a genuine smile as she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, her own slightly puffy.

“We can celebrate later, we still have a scene to practice.”

[nqmonarch]

Good Boy/Girl

Characters: Dan Heng, Stelle

There's just something about being able to call someone a "Good Boy" or "Good Girl" that makes me so happy. And then for that to mean something to them? Even better.

Like, I don't mean the words in a patronizing way it's just a little symbol of approval like how you'd give a kid a sticker with the words 'Good job!'

Dan Heng

Imagine you're waiting for Dan Heng to come back from one of the trailblazing missions; more recently, the one on the Xianzhou Luofu. You're trying to escape Himeko's coffee, and relaxing with Pom Pom to cure your boredom. Then they return, tired beyond belief from their fight against an emanator, and from all of the emotional damage because there was a lot in that quest.

Dan Heng is trying to calm down from the whole ordeal, he just faced the person that haunts his nightmares, and what better way is there to calm down then spending time with his significant other? You're proud of him. For both facing his fears and doing a good job, so what better way to express that then a sweet

"Good Boy."

Dan Heng would melt into your body, allow himself to finally relax. He's safe here. And he can't help but smile, all of his efforts hadn't gone to waste in the end, everything turned out fine. It was all fine now, and the two of you can rest.

He'd take a moment after leaning against your chest and into your lap to realize what you said. And when he does realize it his eyes will widen a bit and he won't be able to hold back the slight blush. Those words mean so much coming from you.

Likewise, imagine doing so with Stelle after that same quest.

Stelle

Stelle feels betrayed by Dan Heng, blind sighted from his past (we saw how Trailblazer distanced themself from Dan Heng after the reveal and didn't speak to them as much). She feels discouraged, Dan Heng was one of the first people she met. But she doesn't know who to go to for comfort, so she ends up back in your arms.

You run your hands through her soft hair, combing out all the tangles with your fingers. She leans into you, practically sitting in your lap, closing her eyes, and trying to relax. But it's hard. She trusted Dan Heng, and even if it's not his fault, she feels betrayed for not knowing such a large part of his life.

Her shoulders would quiver every once in a while and every time she showed unease, you'd lean a bit closer and whisper.

"Good Girl."

You'd tell her how good she did, how strong she was for taking on an emanator, how she persevered despite everything. She'd cry, turn around, and hold you close. The rest of the night would probably repeat this way, until the two of you fall asleep side by side.

You wake up a bit of a mess, you didn't change into your pajamas or do anything to get ready for bed. But there Stelle is, a small smile on her face and a gift in her hands-- wait, isn't that trash? Why is it golden???

You love your girlfriend anyway, despite her unusual habits.

I don't know maybe I just feel this way. Like it's a way to show someone you appreciate them, love them, think they did great. Or maybe I am just a very big simp.

Like I would die to make you smile, but I'd still want you to cry at my death.

Y'know what I mean?

[ugh-yoongi]

she, by proxy | myg, kth

(or, the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.)

✤ pairing: yoongi x reader; taehyung x reader; yoongi x taehyung ✤ genre: est. relationship (yoongi x reader), pwp ✤ rating: explicit; minors dni ✤ warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking but no one's drunk, a friend group in which everyone is queer and has fucked at least once probably, taehyung is a messy hoe but yoongi's an entire disaster, pining, open relationships, polyamory that is discussed briefly, i have been told there are some feelings involved. the most important: there is gay stuff in here!!! i repeat, some of this is VERY GAY! please do not read if that isn't your thing! ✤ smut warnings: girls making out, a threesome, dudes kissing, oral sex (m. receiving), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, taegi get pegged, dirty talk, dudes touching themselves a lot, come as lube (but there's also real lube dw), come eating, voyeurism, a lil slapping (thighs/clit), the dom/sub dynamics shift throughout the fic but mainly dom!reader, very mild degradation, a lil begging, taehyung cries, fingers always seem to wind up in mouths, hair pulling, frottage, yoongi accidentally gets edged, praise, protected sex, dp (fingers & piv at the same time). i think that's it :') but let me know if i forgot anything. ✤ word count: 8.3k ✤ credits: thank you to @effortandmore / @the-boy-meets-evil / & @here2bbtstrash for beta'ing this for me. my personal porny fairy godparents. i appreciate you all a whole lot. ✤ author's note: can you believe my degenerate brain dreamed this up and then i wrote all of it in two days in a delirious haze, opened the doc this morning to make final edits, and added almost 2k more. idk who i am anymore. if i missed anything it's bc i finished & edited this during jk's live and i was distracted, to say the least. anyway this is embarrassing i feel like a prude so i'm gonna go hide. pls come scream in my inbox with me unless it's to yell tired shit at me abt writing mxm/pegging/whatever else i warned you this is gay.

You hadn’t been surprised the first time, and you’re not surprised now, countless times later.

A girl slides into Taehyung’s lap—long hair, bubblegum pink, almost certainly a wig—and his hands immediately go to the small of her back. Large, nearly swallow her up, and they move to rest possessively at her hips, his grip tight as he pulls her closer. Her top is cropped latex and leaves very little to the imagination, which isn’t an issue for you or Yoongi because she’s not what Yoongi’s looking at. His eyes are locked on Taehyung’s hands; locked on the way the tendons flex as he manhandles the faceless girl in his lap, hikes her over one thick thigh.

Ten more seconds of this and all of you will be looking for a new club.

The air is hazy and thick, the floor sticky with god knows what, and Yoongi reaches for you beneath the table. His own large hand finds your smaller one, those knobby knuckles almost uncomfortable when he twines your fingers together. He’s still staring at Taehyung, and you want to do something, say something, it’ll be someone else soon, stop watching, you’re only gonna hurt yourself, but you know him, and you know when he gets like this it’s best to just let him ride it out. Suffer a little.

(Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be tortured as last time, at least—when all of you had gone someplace else, some seedy spot in an Itaewon basement, and Taehyung had some girl pressed against the wall outside the bathrooms, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she shook and came. And Hobi, smarter and sharper than any of you but still so fucking stupid, had just—

“Fuck, man, they’re gonna need a mop and bucket for that. I mean, shit, it was so much? The sound when it hit the floor—”

Jeongguk had pulled a face. Half doe-eyes, half mortified terror. “When what hit the floor, hyung?”

“Her fucking squirt, Jeonggukie, what the fuck do you think—”

And Namjoon, just as wide-eyed and terrified as Jeongguk but for an entirely different reason, had laughed awkwardly and said, “Haaa, maybe we should talk about something else?” as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.

That night had been shit-tier, nearly unsalvageable, so at least it doesn’t seem like Taehyung’s in that kind of mood. At least the girl in his lap still has her clothes on. At least his hands are someplace you can see them. At least Yoongi’s still beside you.)

So you bide your time. Take stock of who’s still here and where they are, because the girl in Taehyung’s lap has her lips on his neck and things might go south faster than you’d originally anticipated. Hoseok and Jimin are on the dance floor, hips doing something sinful and too much; Namjoon’s at the bar, jaw clenched as the bartender passes him over for the fourth time in a row; Soyeon and Hyungseo are in the other side of your booth, tongues sloppy as they kiss just because they feel like it; Jeongguk, shoved in the corner on Yoongi’s other side, is slack-jawed as he stares at them, and Jeongguk is a fucking pervert so you know he’s hard.

“Put your dick back in your pants, Jeonggukie,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the music. The bass is heavy as it drops, feels like it’s thrumming through your veins, and Jeongguk startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his panic, and Soyeon and Hyungseo don’t bother breaking apart to look. “You want another drink?” you ask Yoongi, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

He shakes his head, finally drags his attention away from Taehyung. There’s someone new in his lap: chin-length silver hair, thin legs that go on for miles, tan skin covered in boldly-colored tattoos, could be anyone. Yoongi isn’t looking anymore, but you are, so you catch it when Taehyung looks up. Looks right at Yoongi, wants to see if he’s watching, but instead he just finds you. “Gonna go smoke,” Yoongi answers, and you slide out of the booth to let him leave.

“Is hyung okay?” Jeongguk asks when the two of you are pressed back together. He sips leisurely at his drink, trying to make it last until Namjoon makes it back from the bar with another one. Something baby blue and shockingly green, a little umbrella on top. Two cherries. “He seems sad. Hey, watch this.” Jeongguk pops one into his mouth and presents the knotted stem to you seconds later.

This is the part you never know how to explain: that Yoongi loves you but sometimes he wants someone else. Not instead, but too. That you love Yoongi and want him to have whatever he wants, and that jealousy is foreign to you. That you and Yoongi love each other but do things a little unorthodox, which is not out of the ordinary for a friend group as ran-through and commingled as yours, but still takes patience and care to explain.

So you just ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, laugh at his squawking protests, and wrangle him so you can press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry this pretty little head about your hyungs, okay?”

Jeongguk surfaces with a glare, surface-level because you’ve embarrassed him in front of two hot girls that are still making out, and hides his flushed cheeks behind his drink. “Is it about Taehyungie-hyung?”

“What’d I just tell you?”

He pouts, but you’re saved from another interrogation by Namjoon’s unceremonious return to the table. He’s so flustered by his one-sided feud with the bartender that he slams the blue-green drink down a little too hard, spills half of it in Jeongguk’s lap. “Move over,” he says to you, and you cock an eyebrow in return. “Please,” he amends, like that’s what you’d been looking for, but when you still don’t move he gets a little whiny and panicked. “They’re relentless,” he says, pointing his thumb at Soyeon and Hyungseo like you can’t see them. “Don’t make me—”

“What about me!” Jeongguk wails, pressing his hands pathetically to his groin like he’s trying to stem bleeding, at the same time you roll your eyes and fire a, “Says Mr. Eight-gigabyte Porn Folder,” at Namjoon.

You receive another glare, this time from Namjoon, and he doesn’t hesitate to steal Jeongguk’s spot against the wall when he goes to the bathroom to deal with his soaked pants, only to start swearing when he realizes the seat is wet, too. “Jesus fuck—”

“That’s what you get.”

“Fuck off,” Namjoon fires back. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

“Outside smoking.”

“Smok—why is he smoking?” At your silence, he jerks his head up, intent on getting an answer out of you. Instead, his question dies on his tongue as he follows your line of sight. Another new person in Taehyung’s lap, sucking Taehyung’s fingers into their mouth. “Ah, yeah. That fucking guy.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Be nice, Namjoonie. You know Taehyung would hook up with a microwave if it gave him attention.”

“What number is that, then? Hasn’t he gotten enough attention?”

“Third I’ve seen. The first one was cute. I thought for sure he was gonna leave with her.”

Namjoon huffs, shakes his head. Takes a long pull of his beer. “He’s not gonna leave with anyone. He just does this to piss off hyung.” Then, like he’s coming to a realization, he turns to look at you with a quizzical look. “Wait, where’d Seokjin-hyung go?”

You stare back in disbelief. “How long were you at the fucking bar? He left hours ago.”

“Did he?” Then, quieter and to himself, “How long was I at the fucking bar?”

Whatever game Taehyung is playing, Yoongi is woefully inept at playing along.

Doesn’t know when it’s his move or when it’s time to sit and watch. Doesn’t know the rules. Doesn’t really listen when you try to explain it to him; probably doesn't want to hear it. Yoongi seems to think he’s at his best when he’s a little sad, a little miserable and yearning. At its core, that’s what the game is, and as much as he keeps touching the thorns to see if he’ll bleed, you know he still enjoys it.

(Know he gets off on it, too.)

Yoongi reaches for you. Steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder, pupils wide as saucers—dark dark dark in the corner of this grimy club—eventually breaking into a smile when you grab his sweat-slick hands and guide them to your waist. Your bodies move together like waves, pushing apart only for Yoongi to continuously pull you in closer, dazed from the feeling of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, words impossible to hear over the music, “look at you. So fucking pretty.”

He threads a knee between your legs, the sound of his groan drowned out as you roll your hips against him. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t know the rules to this game, but you do, and you make sure Taehyung’s watching when you drag your core against Yoongi’s thigh. He groans again, and his hands grip your hips tighter, moving you back and forth on him the way he does when you ride him.

You watch as he drags his eyes upward, see the exact moment he spots Taehyung across the club. His profile is lit up by the strobe lights, filling in the contours of his bone structure with greens and blues. He’s with Jimin and Hoseok now, dancing with the girl from earlier with the pink hair, her back pressed to his chest. He leans down and whispers recycled filth into her ear that she seems to buy. You watch as Yoongi closes his eyes tight; watch him pretend it’s Taehyung dancing with him; it’s Taehyung’s hips he’s gripping onto; it’s Taehyung who’s moaning and desperate for him in this moment.

You watch as his eyes snap open again.

You watch as he realizes he’s in this daydream alone.

And you wonder, briefly, if this should bother you. If this is fucked up, that Yoongi’s hard against you because he’s thinking about someone else, and you find that you don’t care. What you and Yoongi have doesn’t need to make sense to anyone except the two of you.

“Wanna go home,” Yoongi slurs into your ear, fucked up from the feel of you, the thought of Taehyung.

You smirk, tangle your hands in his hair and tug a little just to fuck him up even more. “Yeah? What d’you wanna go home for? It’s still pretty early.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he whines. Tries to hold you in place to grind harder against you and whines again when you move just out of reach. “Baby.”

“You know the rule.” There’s a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of Yoongi’s neck that you chase with your tongue. “Tell me what you actually want and we can leave.”

The breath he sucks in is harsh, fractured, like your question is a special kind of torture. You know it is. Unlike with Taehyung, this is a game both you and Yoongi know the rules to. Unlike with Taehyung, this is the game Yoongi plays to win. The song changes again, this time to something filthy and slow, and Yoongi fits himself to your back, moves until both of you are facing Taehyung. “Want you both,” he says into your ear. Nips at the lobe. “Want to watch you fuck him the way you fuck me.”

“Don’t wanna fuck him yourself?”

You feel him shake his head. “Not this time.”

“What are you doing, then? In this fantasy of yours?”

Yoongi presses closer, the outline of his hard cock pressing into the small of your back now. “Watching, at first. Wanna see you ruin him.” His hands skim along your skin, dip beneath the hemline of your shirt, dance across your stomach. “Wanna watch you make him fucking cry.”

“Are you telling me how?”

Yoongi’s laugh is low, a little caustic. “I won’t need to. He’s so fuckin’ easy.”

“And yet you want him this bad,” you taunt. “Someone easy like that—doesn’t seem to be your type.”

He bites along your neck. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m not the one all fucked up over Kim Taehyung.” You make eye contact with the man in question. Watch as the look on his face fades into a smirk, syrupy and slow. Sleezy, you think. He probably is as easy as Yoongi says. “I should tell him how fucking hard you are. Should tell him you’re gonna take me home and fuck me and come thinking about him. That’s pretty fuckin’ dirty, Yoongi.”

It’s nothing you haven’t said before. Sometimes you press even harder, humiliate him a little when he seems to be in the mood for it, but this time he goes stock-still. Silence stretches between the two of you, the only people standing still on this dancefloor, and you’re halfway turned around to see if Yoongi wants to fuck or cry when he says, “Do it, then.”

You laugh. All part of the game. But then Yoongi grabs your hand, moves it to his cock, straining against his skin-tight jeans, some kind of message that’s gotten fucked up in translation. “Yoongi—”

“Tell him,” he says, expression shuttered and serious.

“You wanna think about this for more than ten seconds? You haven’t talked to him since the last time you guys hooked up and you want me to go tell him you… what? That you want to have some weird cuck threesome with him?”

That’s exactly what you told him.

(Because you know Yoongi, and you also know Taehyung. Your dig at him to Namjoon was very much based in truth, and with how fucked up the dynamics of your friend group are, it hadn’t taken much more than sending Yoongi out into the cold to order a taxi, swaying your hips a little, re-glossing your lips, and disposing of the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. No one had batted an eye.

“I’m going home to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, leaning into Taehyung’s space. He was draped on the couch again, legs spread in a way that was frankly obscene. “Would you like to join us?”

“That depends, angel. How do you fuck him?” he asked, spreading his legs wider.

You stepped closer. Cupped his cheek, dug your nails into his skin a little, and said, “Better than you ever did,” all condescension.

Taehyung had just laughed. Pressed his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “I guess we’ll see about that.”)

And now you’re here, Taehyung sprawled on the bed beneath you. You can see why a sight like this would have Yoongi fucked up as long as he has been: Taehyung’s golden skin contrasting against the crisp white of the sheets, dark hair fanning against the pillows, curls falling into his eyes, chest heaving. Each time he throws his head back you’re torn between sinking your teeth into the column of his throat and wrapping your hands around it. It’s easy to ruin him when he looks like this; easy to give Yoongi what he wants.

“What should I do with you?” you think out loud, and Taehyung’s responding whimper draws a laugh out of you. “Yoongi wants to watch me fuck you,” you continue, hands teasing toward the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. You pinch, slap away the sting. “Would you like that?”

Taehyung’s cock—long and thick, still glistening with spit from when you sucked him off—twitches at the thought. “Y-yeah, fuck, want that,” he answers, hands moving to fist the sheets. He’s been so good. Has done exactly as you said. “Wan’ you to fuck me.”

“Should I fuck you the way you used to fuck your hyung?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi moan at the same time, and it’s so stupid, you think, this game they’ve been playing. Cat and mouse, as if the conclusion hasn’t been inevitable this whole time. “Use your words, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” he says again, Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Y-yeah, like that.”

You hum, reach behind you for the bottle of lube. Yoongi mutters a quiet shit from the other side of the room and you glance over. Mouth hung open, lips wet; jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, the outline of his cock visible through his briefs, hand squeezing at the base. Cheating a little, but still not touching himself the way you know he wants to. He’ll be the first to cry, at this rate.

Eyes back on Taehyung. You wonder if he’d normally preen, put on a show. You wonder if he did that with Yoongi, some whole thing. “He’s told me about it, you know,” you say, clicking the lube open. Sounds more like a gunshot in the small space of your bedroom, where the only other sounds are labored breathing and the city outside. “Told me all about how you used to split him open with that big cock.” You tip the bottle sideways, let the lube dribble out and over Taehyung’s balls. He hisses at the cold, mutters a swear. “Told me he’d struggle to take it sometimes.”

“You two are—fuck.” Whatever Taehyung was going to say is cut off as your finger follows the lube, trails down to his hole. You circle it there, make sure it’s wet, press a little just to watch his hips jerk. “You two are fu-fucking weird.”

“Mm, maybe,” you concede, “but you should see how hard he comes when he’s thinking about you.”

You gather more lube on your finger, then, and press it inside. Just to the first knuckle, just enough to make Taehyung whine. “I guess you already know that, though,” you continue. Pour a little more lube on Taehyung’s skin. Pull your finger out enough to slicken it, push it back in a little further. “Was it good for you?”

His moan is broken and low, deep and heady. A sound that makes the world feel like it’s tilting; a sound that makes you want to chase it. “Yeah,” Taehyung answers, and it could be a response or a declaration when it’s followed by, “so fucking good.”

“Yoongi is good, isn’t he? He listens so well.” With your free hand, you grab Taehyung’s face roughly, turn his head in the direction of where Yoongi’s sitting. “Look at him,” you instruct. He already looks fucked-out. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, knuckles white where he’s gripping onto the arm of the chair. “Look at how good he’s being, not even touching himself.”

And Taehyung… Taehyung almost looks ashamed. Won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze, now that they’re so close, now that it’s real, and this won’t do, will it, so you dig your nails in a little harder, drag them down his cheek, tell him again to look at his hyung. Then—

For the first time all night, their eyes meet at the same time.

Yoongi’s whimper is loud. The loudest you’ve ever heard him outside of actual sex. You work in a second finger alongside the first, build up a steady rhythm, and Taehyung isn’t faring much better. Little by little he opens up for you and you’re thankful for the way he sucks you in, adjusts. It’s getting harder to ignore the heat between your own legs, watching two beautiful men fall apart in vastly different ways, even though you want to drag this out, want to make Taehyung cry and give Yoongi exactly what he wanted.

And, god, Taehyung is so fucking pretty.

You tell him as much, and his smile is greasy, looks even more lewd when you crook your fingers and his eyes roll back. He’s still tight around you when he asks for a third so you shake your head, tell him no, tell him he’s greedy, and you think people must not make him beg much, the way he’s pouting. Taehyung has a face that gets him whatever he wants and a cock to match, and you’d understood it before, why Yoongi couldn’t really let it go, but it’s different when it’s right in front of you, making a mess of your sheets.

“I must be going soft on you,” you tell him, working in another finger the next time he asks. “Yoongi wanted me to make you cry and here I am, giving you whatever you want. Maybe I should let him decide what you get.”

Taehyung shoots a hand out, grabs at your forearm. “Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse, bordering on pleading. “Please. He’s still mad at me, won’ give me anything.”

A huff of breath escapes you. “He doesn’t look very mad to me. Looks like he could probably come on command if you told him to.” It’s not an exaggeration, not really; Yoongi is gone, looks like a stiff wind could have him spilling all over himself. “But maybe that’s what you deserve.”

You nail Taehyung’s prostate the next time you crook your fingers and he sobs. You do it again, then a third time. Precome oozes out of his cock, deepens the pool on his belly. You keep it up until tears pool on his waterline, until he’s reaching for you again, begging you to stop, words cracking as he tells you desperately that he’s going to come. “Angel, fuck, please, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, all authority. “You’re not going to come, are you, because I haven’t told you to. Yoongi hasn’t told you to.”

The first frustrated tear streaks down Taehyung’s cheek. “Oh my fucking god,” he chokes out, forcing his hips flat to the bed, tries to force you to stop moving. But your rhythm is steady, confident, three fingers working with the space he’s left you, and it isn’t until you watch his balls tighten that they slow. Taehyung’s sweat-slick, looks even more golden under the amber lamplight, and it’s dizzying, the way the color shifts as his chest heaves with his ragged breaths.

There’s only enough time for you to slip your fingers out, grab the lube, slick up the strap-on that’s fastened around your hips, before you’re pressing the head against Taehyung’s hole, still dripping wet. “It’s so big,” you muse, grinning wickedly at the man beneath you, “I don’t know if it’s going to fit. What do you think, Yoongi? Is this how you used to feel?”

When you look over this time, Yoongi has his cock out, briefs tucked beneath his balls, stroking fast. Clicking your tongue, he looks up through half-lidded eyes, hand stilling immediately. His nod is almost imperceptible, too disoriented to answer, and you’ll give him this one. Won’t push it. What you will push, though—

“Shit.”

You’re not sure if it comes from Yoongi or Taehyung. It might’ve even come from you, because you’re transfixed, can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your stupid flesh-colored dildo disappearing into Taehyung’s body. Fucking greedy, you think, mostly at yourself, because if this sight is good you can only imagine what you’d see if you were watching his face. Brows furrowed, mouth pinched. A look not far off from that night in the club, the determination on his face as he fucked that girl with his fingers, uncaring who heard or saw.

But this is your show. Yoongi’s fantasy. Whatever girls—people—Taehyung has fucked in seedy clubs across Seoul are of little importance here. All that matters is the steady push of your hips, the slow roll once you’re fully buried, the pleasure that jolts through you when you’re able to grind a little against the toy, the way Taehyung thrashes against the sheets, incoherent as he babbles, stuck between more and too much.

“Okay?” you ask, hands skimming along his warm skin. Goosebumps trail in their wake, and you settle them on his thighs. Press them up and to the side as he nods, giving yourself more space, and Taehyung’s moan is loud, unabashed. His cock lies neglected against his stomach, begging you to reach out and grab it, stroke him, make him come too fast so you have another bruise to press on, some way to embarrass him.

But this is your show, Yoongi’s fantasy, and you don’t have to look because you can hear how close your boyfriend is to getting himself off. Can hear the way his breath hitches, can hear when his rhythm changes. Quicker, now. More insistent. If Taehyung looked over at him, it’d be all over, and you almost tell him to do that, too.

“Stop touching yourself,” you say to Yoongi. A second time when he disregards the first, too far gone, too close. “Yoongi.” He whines but he listens, shoves his fingers in his mouth to stem the urge, and Taehyung watches it all.

You’re still thrusting, thighs burning, sticky where they meet Taehyung’s, and it won’t be your lengthiest performance, that’s for sure. So you call Yoongi’s name again, beckon him over, and he hesitates, looks so unsure. But it’s so stupid, the way he and Taehyung dance around one another—and you know, you know Taehyung wouldn’t be shaking like this if it were just you, if Yoongi wasn’t in his head, wasn’t watching—so you’re insistent. “Come here,” you tell him, and you make sure your voice is spun sugar when you say it.

Yoongi listens. Stumbles over on unsteady legs, knees nearly buckling when he gets close enough to also watch the way the strap-on fucks into Taehyung’s hole, the way it stretches obscenely to accommodate it. “Baby.” He threads his hands into your hair and kisses you hard and messy. Taehyung moans beneath you so you know he’s watching, and you will your body to move faster, fuck him harder.

When Yoongi pulls back, it’s obvious. The longing in his eyes. “Tell him,” you say, and he looks caught-out, would almost look angry if he were capable of it. “This is your fantasy, isn’t it? So tell him.”

“I—” He looks down at Taehyung again, meets his gaze again, and he must see something there you can’t, because all the hesitation is gone when he says, “I want to kiss you.”

And you know what it means.

Because that had been the rule between the two of them. No staying the night, no kissing. You know what it means for Yoongi to ask for that, what it’d mean if Taehyung allowed it, and it nearly cracks your heart in half that it’s the only thing he’s willing to ask for when his wants are endless when it comes to Taehyung.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung moans. “Fuck, hyung, yeah—yeah, c’mere, kiss me, please, fuck.”

Yoongi looks like he’s been punched in the gut. Looks overwhelmed, given this kind of permission, so he goes about it all wrong. Starts to kneel at the side of the bed before you tsk and grab him by his own hair. “Do it right,” you instruct.

He moans. Aborts whatever he was about to do and climbs over Taehyung on the bed, straddles him, fitting in between both of you perfectly, close enough for his cock to slot against Taehyung’s. They both moan, and their game had been so fucking stupid it sends a lick of anger through you. Yoongi ruts his hips once, twice, and then he’s leaning down and cupping Taehyung’s face and pressing his lips—still wet from you, still wearing your spit—to Taehyung’s.

And Taehyung comes immediately, nearly untouched. Spills all over himself with a loud, broken sob.

“Holy shit,” you say, hips slowing until they’re still. “Holy shit, that was fucking hot, what the fuck.”

Taehyung trembles in the comedown and Yoongi presses in closer, kisses him through it. Can’t seem to stop now that he’s allowed. He’s still rutting, has Taehyung teetering on oversensitivity, so you grab Yoongi’s hips to slow him. “Careful, baby,” you say softly into his ear. Press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Give him a minute to back away from the ledge again and get himself under control, let Taehyung catch his breath. “Are you okay, Taehyung?” you ask, hands once again touching any of his skin you can find. You knead at the muscles in his calves.

There’s some garbled response. Something you think is supposed to sound like an affirmation. “Words, please.”

“Y-yeah,” comes his response.

“Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, all right?” You press another kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, turn your attention to him. “Then we’ll finally give you what you want, yeah? Finally let you come.” A shiver runs up his spine and he nods weakly. “Can you prep yourself while I’m gone?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy. Gonna pull out now, Tae.”

You do so slowly. Taehyung hisses, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hisses again when you replace the toy with your thumb, try to ease the discomfort of being so suddenly empty. With another kiss pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, you mumble an I love you into his hair, and then you’re gone.

There’s always been something about the way Yoongi touches himself.

Like the goal is more than simply getting off. Like there’s reverence in it, something beyond purpose. Yoongi touches himself the way other people drop to their knees at church and pray.

Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Sometimes his hands skirt over every inch of his own skin before he finally brings them to his cock. Sometimes he rests on his haunches in the middle of the bed and angles himself toward the mirror and watches, his cheeks aflame the entire time because he’s embarrassed to see himself like that, three of his own fingers fucking himself, but the embarrassment almost feels just as good. Sometimes he has you beneath him, raining down praise as his fist works the length of his cock.

Sometimes he does it entirely wrong, like now.

Two pale, lube-slick fingers work in and out of his hole. His own, then, and not Taehyung’s. Just like you’d asked. You’re a little surprised, thought maybe Yoongi might panic and retreat with you gone, but they’re both where you’d left them. Taehyung’s talking all the while, saying god knows what in that deep timbre, and it’s straight up pornographic the way his large hands rest on the cheeks of Yoongi’s ass, pull them apart.

The damp cloth in your hand feels useless. Is useless, you think, because Yoongi had told you something, once, deep in the throes of another cerebral fantasy—

“I can’t believe I have to keep telling you this,” you say, and everything immediately goes still at the sound of your voice, “but do it right, Yoongi.”

Taehyung lifts his head, stares at you skeptically. Probably mirroring the look on Yoongi’s face that you aren’t privy to with his back to you. “We’ve talked about this,” you continue, stalking closer. All eyes on you as you drop the cloth to the floor. “Are you clean?” you ask Taehyung, and he nods, expression still dubious.

And then you’re reaching between both of them, swiping your fingers through the mess of cum on Taehyung’s stomach, and he understands immediately. “Are you gon—fuuuck. Fucking christ.” The first swipe goes to Yoongi’s mouth, and there’s no hesitation as he sucks your fingers clean. Your free hand finds Yoongi’s, the one he’s working himself open with, and pulls it away. Replaces it with your own, your two longest fingers covered in the second swipe of Taehyung’s cum, and you fuck them in and out faster than Yoongi had been.

“Filthy,” Taehyung chokes out, clearly overwhelmed; another groan when Yoongi starts sucking at his neck, biting, claiming.

It’s primal, the way Taehyung reacts, the way Yoongi embeds himself under his skin, tries desperately to make a home there. Something permanent this time; or, at least, a home that won’t burn down like the last one. Won’t be reduced to a smoking heap of bitter ash. And you wonder, as you watch the way these two beautiful men fit together, if Taehyung will be holding the match or the key this time.

You press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the knots in Yoongi’s spine. Drizzle more lube on your fingers, work him open more. Whisper I know, baby, I know when he gets impatient and a little too demanding. Swap the condom on the strap-on and slick it up, just like last time, and then you’re pressing into Yoongi instead of Taehyung, the way you’ve done so many times before.

Everything is familiar and different: the drag, the pull, the noises spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Those staccato whines varied in pitch, sometimes drawn out and sometimes punched and short. This is what you know. This is your home, and you think, as Taehyung looks at Yoongi, so fucking endeared, as he gently cups his face, as he says—

“Hyung, you look so pretty. You’re doing so well, hyung, fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this again.”

—you think your house might look nice with an addition. An extra space carved out only for Taehyung. A room where Yoongi can exist in endless adoration.

“Make yourself useful, Kim Taehyung.”

Because Taehyung listens. Because Taehyung is good in all the ways that Yoongi is good, and he doesn’t have to be told twice when the order deals in Yoongi’s pleasure. So all of you adjust until Yoongi’s on his hands and knees, gripping tightly onto the headboard, and Taehyung shuffles down the bed until he can get his mouth on Yoongi’s cock.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you say, and Taehyung moans at the praise, the vibrations making Yoongi gasp and jerk.

You know when you hit his prostate, too; know this is going to be over soon from the way he buries his face in the crook of his elbow and screams. You know it from the way he starts to shake. From the unintelligible filth that pours from his mouth as Taehyung swallows him all the way down. From the way he stutters out a, ba-baby, wha’bout you, gonna come like this, and you pet his hair, voice soft again when you say, this is for you, Yoongi, you can come, I know it’s so much.

There’s a final husky, drawn-out moan, and then there’s quiet.

Lucidity returns slowly.

The heat kicks on. A police siren wails in the distance, seven floors below you. You re-wet your cloth and do your best to clean the dried cum from Taehyung’s skin, your smile fond as he whines at the cold, tries to squirm away. Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, just collapses face-first onto the mattress and lets everyone fuss over him. Starts snoring a few minutes later, after you’ve pulled the duvet up to his ears and he’s tucked in and warm.

You move to the dresser. Pull out two t-shirts—oversized on you, tight in the shoulders on Taehyung—and clean underwear. And then you pause, because Taehyung’s already plucking his own clothes off the floor, already has his fucking socks and briefs on, and it’s… it doesn’t feel right, is the thing. Doesn’t feel like he should be leaving. Not tonight, maybe ever.

“Where are you going?” you ask, and you do a good job of keeping the hurt out, at sounding normal.

Taehyung doesn’t get it. Looks at you like you’re a little stupid and a lot crazy, because he looks at you, then at the world outside the window, and finally at Yoongi before answering. “I—leaving?”

“Why?”

Taehyung looks at you like you’re a lot stupid this time. “I don’t…” Pauses. Tries to sink into the floor to no avail. “Look, I think maybe this was a mistake? Hyung and I—I don’t think this is what he wants.”

“And how do you know what he wants?”

“Because we’re here,” he answers, anger seeping in. “Because I’m standing in your apartment. His girlfriend, and—”

You sigh. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I think it’d really hurt him if you left.” You leave off the again. It’s not your trauma to dredge up. Yoongi wouldn’t want you to, and that’s reason enough. “I would like it if you stayed, if that means anything.”

“The two of you are fucking weird,” he says again, but he looks less torn. Looks less like he would plow you over to get to the door, and it’s… progress. It’s good. You can work with a halfway thing. “Hyung would really—you think he wants me here?”

It’s spoken about in the way a broken thing always is: delicately, hesitantly, like Taehyung’s afraid of the answer, afraid to find out the results of this stupid game of his own design. “He does. It’s not my place to say much more than that, but I think the two of you are overdue for a conversation, if nothing else.”

Taehyung nods. Starts looking less and less like he’s out of place; starts looking like object permanence, takes a corporeal form within the four walls of your bedroom. “There’s space here for you,” you say, with the amount of care words like these require, “if you want it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. Nothing has to be decided right now, but I know Yoongi. You know him, too. I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

Taehyung nods again. Peels his socks off. “You’re sure?” he asks, and when you nod, he climbs back into bed, seems to somehow know which side of the bed is Yoongi’s, two magnets drawn together. Something inevitable.

You breathe out a sigh. Finally slip the t-shirt and underwear on. Flick the lamp off and let yourself have a minute to enjoy the calm, Yoongi’s body heat next to you, still snoring softly between you and Taehyung. And then, because you can’t resist—

“You two are really fucking stupid, you know that?”

You hear Taehyung swallow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sounding the part of a scolded child, and as much as you try not to, you’re smiling again, fond and endeared, into the dark. “I know.”

“Okay. Go to sleep, Tae. I expect a very nice thank you gift in the morning.”

It doesn’t happen in the morning. Not really.

It happens sometime in the middle of the night. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains gives away nothing more than silver-amber light, the moon and the city. Could be minutes since you fell asleep, could be hours; all you know is Yoongi’s at your back, arm slung possessively over your middle, and his heat is stifling.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, because it’s not just his heat. He’s hard again, cock pressing against the swell of your ass just like it was in the club, and you feel him smile against your neck when he realizes you’re awake. Feel him rock his hips, just a little.

He nips at your lobe, your jaw. “Hi, baby,” he says, like this is just another morning. Like he’s about to present your favorite mug to you, coffee fixed exactly how you like it. “Why didn’ you wake me up?”

“For what?” you breathe out, voice already wavering. All Yoongi has done is skim his warm hands under your oversized t-shirt, swirl a finger around your navel.

Yoongi tuts. Feels weird to be on this side of it, the illusion of condescension. “To fuck you. Make you come. You didn’t earlier.”

“I meant what I said—”

“I know you did,” Yoongi interjects, “but I don’t find that to be a very acceptable excuse.”

You roll your eyes, no heat in it, but then Yoongi’s hand moves to the hem of your underwear and slips inside. Your hips jerk when he moves two fingers lightly over your clit, jerk again when he finds you already wet and groans deep and husky into your ear. And it’s not loud, but it’s loud for this room at whatever-the-fuck time it is. “Gotta be quiet,” you whisper to him, and he laughs, thinks you’re joking. “I’m serious,” you say, and you want to sound authoritative but it comes out as a whine when he sinks those fingers into your cunt.

“Why would I need to be quiet?” he asks. Crooks them as best he can from this weird angle, you on your side with your back pressed to him, Yoongi halfway on top of you. “Shouldn’t I be loud?” He hits a spot that whites your vision. “Shouldn’t everyone in this fucking place hear it?”

Usually you wouldn’t care. Your apartment building has heard worse, including whatever debauchery the three of you had gotten up to mere hours ago, but—“Taehyung’s asleep.”

Yoongi startles, goes still. “What?”

“What.”

“What d’you mean Taehyung’s asl…” You feel him turn. Feel him realize, for the first time, that there is a very-asleep Taehyung on his other side, and you want to ask how he hadn’t noticed before, want to say didn’t you realize how cramped this bed is, it’s not big enough for three people, we’ll have to get a new one, but. Yoongi hadn’t expected him to stay, hadn’t expected it to even be an option, so of course it would’ve been a blind spot.

Your heart cracks in half again.

“What’d you say to him?” he asks. Not accusing, almost awed, like you knew a code, the secret passcode to getting Taehyung to stay that Yoongi hadn’t had before.

You reach back, find Yoongi’s hair. Scratch gently at his scalp. “Just that I thought you’d like it if he stayed. That’s it, nothing else. I wouldn’t.”

“I know, I wasn’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, lets it go. He’s okay. “This is okay with you?”

A laugh spills out of you. “You’re asking me that now? I was nearly fist-deep in his ass a few hours ago but him sleeping in our bed is crossing some kind of line?”

“Sex can be different,” Yoongi argues, “and it’s me, you know, like it’s my hangup, not yours—”

“I want you to be happy,” you answer honestly. “Whatever that looks like. I told him there’s room for him here if he wants it, but they’re not my knots to untangle. If he wants to stick around, if you two can get your shit together… we’ll figure it out. It only needs to make sense to us.”

Silence. Then—“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my fucking life,” Yoongi groans. “Jesus Christ.”

“I should’ve known hyung was the type to get a boner from open and honest communication.”

Yoongi startles again at the low rasp of Taehyung’s voice. “And that’s exactly why I said I fuck him better than you,” you fire at him, deadpan. He laughs. You don’t have to look at Yoongi to know how red he’s turned.

“You said that to him?” he chokes out, all mortified disbelief, at the same time Taehyung says, “Maybe you’ve got a point, angel.”

The mattress sinks under Taehyung’s weight as he shuffles closer to the two of you. Must touch Yoongi somehow, because there’s a high-pitched whine from the back of his throat, so loud in your ear, has heat coursing through you. “Finish what you started, hyung,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi’s nod is jerky, his hands uncoordinated under Taehyung’s watchful stare.

Yoongi moves over you fully, wastes no time before he’s working his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, sucking at your skin. Taehyung groans quietly, doesn’t need to be told a goddamn thing; rids you of your shirt so Yoongi can mouth his way from your jaw to your neck, collarbones to chest, one nipple and then the next. Pleasure licks up your spine, outweighs how overwhelming it is to have Yoongi this geared-up, wound this tight; to have Taehyung’s hands roaming over every inch of skin his hyung doesn’t have his mouth on.

“Yoo-Yoongi,” you choke out, because this has really gone from zero to a hundred and he’s been pressing incessantly on your g-spot for too long to remain unaffected.

It’s building, building, building, and you’ve fully lost control of your hips, grinding against the heel of Yoongi’s palm like you’re desperate for it. (You are.) And Taehyung just laughs darkly, says, “Think she’s gonna come, hyung,” just to get under your skin.

“Mm, yeah. Might make a mess.” He slaps at your clit and that’s it, that’s what does it.

And Yoongi knows you, doesn’t he, because he knows how you like to get fucked. Knows to click his tongue at you, give you that disappointed look; knows to wipe your release on your thighs. Knows to barely let you catch your breath before he’s slipping on a condom and pushing inside of you.

After his fingers, the stretch from his cock feels dizzying. Feels on the edge of too much, and Taehyung’s commentary is doing fuck-all to help you come back to earth. Keeps saying shit like goddamn, hyung, yeah, fuck her like that. Maneuvers you so your back is pressed to his chest, now, your head on his shoulder, so Yoongi can slip his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth while he ruins you. It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy, and you think, selfishly, that a room won’t be big enough. You’d build Taehyung an entire goddamn house to keep it like this, to keep the three of you safe in this bubble.

“Imagine, hyung,” Taehyung starts, and you know what comes out of his mouth next is going to be nasty. Yoongi knows it, too, eyes starting to go glassy. A million constellations reflected as he looks at the two of you. “If we fucked her at the same time. Both of us in that tight pussy. Our cocks togeth—”

You’re not sure if the deafening moan comes from you or Yoongi. Either way, his hips falter, cadence reduced to stuttered thrusts as he tries desperately not to come just from Taehyung spewing more filth out of his devilish mouth. But you want to see it. Want to see what happens when he’s pushed to the brink of horny delirium, so you say—

“Do it.”

—and Yoongi has to stop altogether. Grips your hips so hard you know they’ll bruise, and you think, for a second, that he actually did come. Everything is quiet for a second, just more labored breathing, and then Yoongi picks his head up. Looks more fucked-out than you’ve ever seen him, even more than earlier, and looks straight at Taehyung.

“Put your fingers in her.”

Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose. Waits for you to nod, give him the okay, and then his hands leave your hair and skim down your body. They’re so warm, so large, cover so much skin that it truly feels like he’s everywhere, like it’s more than just him touching you. The closer he nears to your cunt, the more overpowering it is, the harder it is to breathe.

“Is this what you want, angel?” he asks, words warm on your skin as he presses them just below your ear. “You’re a greedy girl, getting hyung’s cock and my fingers.” He rubs circles into your clit, sends you spiraling. You’re dangerously close to a second orgasm (could be a third, could be a hundredth, considering Yoongi never let you come down from the first) and there’s a split-second right before he dips his fingers into your cunt, works them in alongside Yoongi’s cock, that you feel engulfed.

Everything is on fire.

You, most of all.

Taehyung sucks his fingers into his mouth, gets ‘em wet, works in slowly. Just his middle finger at first, and Yoongi falters again, moans out an oh fuuuck that betrays exactly how far gone he is. And you aren’t far behind, the stretch from both of them unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can’t imagine how it’d feel if it was more than just Taehyung’s fingers, except you can, and Taehyung notices when the thought has you clenching, has you a little wetter, because he laughs at you, tells Yoongi like he can’t tell on his own. Like your boyfriend is a little dumb, like he’s never fucked you before, and that does something to both of you.

One finger turns into two. Yoongi’s a fucking mess, absolutely gone of the feel of them inside you, against his cock, can’t stop moaning. The tight fit has Taehyung’s fingers pressed snug against your g-spot, exactly how Yoongi’s had been, and it’s too much. Too much.

“I’m, fuck—I’m gonna—”

When you come it feels like the end of the world. It feels like rapture. It feels like every atom in your body has been rearranged, like the gods themselves are rewarding you specifically with the sound of Yoongi following right behind you, moaning low and ragged, spilling into the condom.

In the comedown, he kisses you—soft, tender, with every iota of love and affection contained in him. “I love you,” he says. Presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You okay?”

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. “Give me three to five business days to decide.”

Yoongi’s smile is shy, almost embarrassed. More gums than anything else. Behind you, the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter against your back, rattling your ribs. Rattling your heart, maybe, lodged safely between them.

It expands, makes more room—the one for Taehyung, that house—and Yoongi’s lips find Taehyung’s next and you know it’ll be okay. These two stupid boys, they’ll figure it out, put a cease fire to their foolish game.

Yeah, something inevitable.

as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

[evelynwinters1]

Yan!BSD character imagines + Yan!Fyodor oneshot at end

Dazai:

I can imagine a scene from Heathers, but instead of him finding you hanging and choosing to blow up the school only to see you alive, he would most likely abduct you and blow up the house he keeps you in with him and his delusional obsession.

Jouno:

Just give up. You are never getting out. He would find reasons to skip work if he has to. (It wouldn't matter how petty the reason) He would go lengths farther than the sun to simply stay in your presence. I can see him in an entirely different room (probably across the house even) eavesdropping on you whispering your plan of escape to yourself. How amusing.

Ranpo:

Another one you should give up escaping from. He has already deduced your plan of escape whenever and however you try to do it. He also knows where you will go if you do manage to escape and is waiting for you when you get there. I can see the reader/ yn trying to buy their escape by bribing ranpo with sweets and snacks at first, but he already seen through this method a while ago and went to go refill his stash. (Most definitely got you anything you may need with it)

P.s. I am still laughing at the thought of the cashiers face when he gets a mountain of snacks and pads/tampons and/or condoms. Shooketh!

Atsushi:

Would make sure you never suspected anything. This lovable idiot would turn full paranoid phsycopath and back again depending on if you were around or not. I can imagine him two-facing you and the detective agency. The agency sees his obsessive paranoia while you see his clingy side.

Chuuya:

Would definitely keep the anger issues (Yes. Even around you.) The main difference would be the direction of what he's angry at. The mafia - as usual. You - trying to escape. I can see a moment when you do escape, after seeing him activate his gift, you would be so terrified to leave him ever again. The sheer amount of strength it would take to not rip you in half with his gift would be immense. Very possessive. Chihuahua.

Mori:

(Now hear me out, I know that a lot of people would rather see him dead. But . . . . Yes.)

More platonic than the others, but equally as obsessive. Would make a secret room off of his main office that only him and Elise would ever know about. No one is to deliver food to you no matter how trusted the individual is. No one is to visit you other than him and Elise. No one will hear about you, let alone see you. Your very existence is hidden from everyone but Mori and Elise. I can see him putting motion sensors in front of the door to his office that notifies him when someone is near (like a ring doorbell but without the camera. He doesn't need it 'cuz no one will know about you anyway.)

Nikolai:

Would definitely have something I like to call the "house of mirrors" complex. Everything that happens to you is simply your fault. But it's completely okay because look how beautiful and special you are! Would convince you that you wanted it.

You wanted him to kidnap you, why else would you make yourself look so vulnerable? You wanted to be punished, why else would you try to leave him?

That kind of thing. A ton of gaslighting. Punish, pretend, praise, repeat.

His perfect doll.

Sigma:

Let's be honest, even as a yandere, he is still a cinnamon roll. Sure, he'll kidnap you, lock you in a room with plenty of space and light (only he would have the key), and put a chain around your ankle that the other end was bolted to the floor. But you would have a walk-in closet, a full bathroom with any necessity you could dream of, a king-sized bed (possibly a large vanity), a desk always stocked, and him.

He would give you meals that he had prepared and cooked personally. He would be at your every beck and call. It didn't matter what you needed, as long as he deemed it safe for you to have, he'd give it to you. Anything from around the world. The price didn't matter, you did.

Edgar:

His muse. Everything about you, whether it be physical or not, was enchanting to him. Even Ranpoe got jealous of his attention being on you. After all, he almost completely gave up contesting with his so-called rival. A good portion of his poems were based on his muse. He didn't need to kidnap you per sé, you waltzed in yourself. Exited that you finally tracked down your favorite author for nothing more than an autograph. (One would almost think you were the stalker)

His shyness and anxiety were key factors of him nearly panicking when he first met you. In time, however, he warmed up to you. Arguably faster than he would like to admit. You would visit him several times after finding him and try and get to know him.

I can imagine when he finally acknowledged his infatuation with you, he asks you if you could get something out of his room for him, telling you that it's a gift for you and he wants it to be a surprise. When you enter and start looking around for anything that stuck out to you, he closes and locks the door. Karl was also in the room with you to serve as both emotional support and security. But you didn't need to know that.

Fyodor:

!!warning!!: kind of cringe, written in a hurry, stalking, mentions of death, manipulation!!

For those of you who bothered to read this whole thing and reach the end, you are in for a treat. Because yandere fyodor wouldn't be as impatient as the others. Obsessed, yes. But impatient, absolutely not. The final result would collapse if he was.

He loved watching you live your daily life through the miniscule cameras he placed strategically throughout your entire house, car, even where you work. How? He has his ways. Every morale any human has tends to be abandoned when he can show the world their darkest secrets with the click of a button. Your boss was no exception. Living on your own was a pain sometimes. Most cleaning couldn't get done until about a week later because of exhaustion. Most of the time, when you got off of work, you'd simply crash in bed. As much as Fyodor loved watching you sleep, he worried a lot about you. Mainly not eating enough (if at all), and if you did, it was mainly cup noodles, canned food, or the occasional leftovers of food you bought during your break at work. He was going to wait until you nearly reached poverty. To be your savior, and casually press himself into your life and your heart. This method (according to his calculations) took the least effort, but the most time. It also raised the chance of success. When he finally gets to you, he will play innocent. He will tell you that he knew nothing about you but get you your favorites. All to paint himself as the perfect ideal man to you. Your soulmate even.

On a walk with him late at night, you both happen to run into a man you now know as Dazai. You could immediately sence Fyodor tense. He made it seem like you both were simply too focused on each other to see where you two were going and briskly guided you back home. You looked for Dazai wondering why it was fyodor tensed so quick (he never did explain why when you asked him), and you ran into him on your way to the post office where he introduced himself. He seemed a bit quirky but hilarious sometimes. That was until he asked about Fyodor. Without much thought, you told him about the start of a relationship between the two of you and how you met. Dazai looked absolutely shocked, told you about his work, where it is, and invited you to talk about 'the details' of Fyodor's identity. The two of you went your separate ways.

You came home to find it devoid of presence. Fyodor left. Given that it was a bit dark out, though illuminated by a full moons light, you read a book on the window seat in the bedroom with a cup of tea till the early hours of the day when you finished it and realized. Work. You had work in 30 minutes.

Fyodor was watching you through the cameras again. He couldn't help but chuckling at his darling, frantically getting ready for work (only halfway succeeding) after losing track of time reading with the forgotten cup of half drank tea. He found it so adorable that you had gotten so immersed in the book he had given you not long ago. Calming down from his fit of giggles, he got back on track. Elimination. Either Dazai needed to die or his darling needed to disappear. He wasn't going to kill her, no. He was going to erase everything, even hinting at her existence. All except her. He'll deal with the details later. He needed to choose quickly before that devil got any ideas. Neither option was simple. In fact, both are quite tedious in nature. Killing Dazai would risk having to kill the rest of the agency and possibly the port mafia. Getting rid of all but you yourself would mean not only would she have to lose both her job and her house, but possibly her entire family as well. Killing them would be the simplest because it would count as a burglary if the pictures of her and past possessions were stolen. He knew that he himself could very easily delete any and all documents the government has on her. All he needs is pawns. Maybe he could "cash in a favor," as it's called. The chief justice should be a good start. It wouldn't take much convincing. Only a few pictures he has of the cheifs deeds will suffice.

And just like that, you disappeared by Fyodors' hands. He had to pull a few strings for living arrangements, but it was well worth the price. You now live in the most rural area you can think of. Not a house or road for at least a hundred miles and surrounded by trees. Yet, you still have no idea Fyodor caused this. You are the one who agreed to 'move into his place'. You are the one who resigned your job to be there. It's not like you knew that Fyodor set your place ablaze or made your boss' blackmail public after ridding your files or being the cause of your family's death.

After a few hours of reading in the enormous library Fyodor has, you hear the door open. In all his handsome glory is fyodor adorning his unshaka and a pure white faux fur cloak.

"Good morning, moya milaya"

P.s. Fyodor will remain my favorite BSD character 😊

[stilljuststardust]

Hey my sister wants to shift, she’s 13, what is the most basic “here’s what you need to know and never listen to shifttok” song you’ve got for her?

∘₊✧Explanation✧₊∘

Thanks for the ask! I'm sorry this took me so long I've been having some health issues.

Disclaimer, please read:

There are SO many different perspectives on how it works. Mine is not the only one and though all perspectives are valid, I'm going to assume that you chose to ask me because you are familiar with my blog and how I personally view shifting.

I'm going to try to leave LOA out of it but that is how I personally view shifting.

What is shifting?

Shifting is when you become aware of the life you're living in another reality. The reality you shift into is just as real as the one you are currently in. It will feel real because it is.

How to shift

Strictly speaking, you don't have to do anything to shift. How people shift is so personal and customized and nothing is necessary to do it but I'll try my best to give "instructions" anyway.

You decide you're in your DR, you decide that it is true and it has worked, ignore anything outside of yourself that tells you otherwise, and know that it is true because you freaking said it was.

You decide you've shifted and ignore anything but that decision. That is IT. Don't worry about this reality, it doesn't matter. Don't worry about any aspects of this reality you can still hear see or feel, they won't stop you from shifting don't let them distract you.

ALL you have to do is become aware of your DR. I know that it can be hard to conceptualize that for a beginner so most people use methods.

Methods

To start off: It is not necessary to have a method. Many people just intend to shift and then they do. That's it. You don't have to do anything, however I recognize that for someone who isn't familiar with shifting "just intend to" is probably an unhelpful answer.

Most methods can be divided into two categories, awake and asleep methods.

Awake methods revolve around becoming aware that you are already in your DR.

Asleep methods revolve around becoming aware that you will wake up in your DR.

Common features in both kinds of methods:

Meditation

Visualization

Affirmations

Affirmations are pretty straightforward, you repeat a sentence that aligns with your goal over and over. "I have shifted. I am in my DR."

What I personally do

I robotically affirm all day "I am going to shift tonight" robotic affirmations are just repeated affirmations without feeling. So all day I just say it to myself again and again.

I then take some time to sit down and imagine my desired reality, my favorite street, pretty things I would see throughout the day, stuff that grounds me in the feeling of it.

Then I just lay down and tell myself I'm there no matter what. No matter what I feel hear or see I am there.

Doesn't matter I'm there.

Frequently asked questions

I am choosing to put these first because I feel like they really clarify what shifting is and how it works.

Will I have memories of my destination reality once I have shifted?

Yes, you have always existed in that reality and you have a life's worth of memories there. When you become aware of a reality and of the version of yourself that exists within it you also become aware of your memories there.

How does scripting work/ what is it?

It is a description of the reality you'd like to shift into, usually written. Think of it as an the address of the reality you'd like to shift to. You specify the details of the life you would like to become aware of. Having one is not necessary.

Can I script [insert anything here] ?

Yes. You can script anything, and I mean anything. If you can imagine it, it is possible. The realities we shift to do not have to follow the rules of this one and what is impossible here doesn't have to be impossible there. You want to script the sky is purple? Then it is. You want to have wings? Congratulations you can. I cannot stress this enough, ANYTHING you want can be scripted.

Relevant posts

Your desired reality already exists

An old post of my own shifting routines nothing listed is necessary, the list exists to give ideas not instructions

How to visualize

A good post on shiftok misinformation by my awesome mutual

[lalalian]

I always think to myself, "I'm out of ideas... I'm out of actually cool, creative ideas, will I have to shut all my shit down? How am I supposed to continue posting if I've got nothing..." but then, the next second I'll come up with something that genuinely could be a whole ass dr

...

here's a dump of some of the drs I've been wanting to make into filled scripts for awhile now, but I haven't even started designing the scripts for them yet.

Some of them are literally just titles, but idk I just know I can work with it yk?

since I finished some prototyping hw today, I'll put in a little more effort sectioning this post

some of the ideas in question

cloud catcher: steampunk reality based on a cloud city, you've got a job as a cloud catcher, your job is to catch and sell different kinds of clouds, have a cloud shop

inedible edible cafe: inedible things here (in our OR) would be edible in this dr.. Initially I only wanted to include slime as a dish, but now I want to make dishes with different ingredients, like puffy sticker cereal or sum shit

shifting school dr: okay so this actually was a trend on shifttok for a sec, it was called a 'mysterious school' idk why. anyway, this school was supposed to be it's own dr, but I think i may include it in my dreamscape dr

magitech engineer dr: ngl this idea was in the fucking basement of my mind-- ain't nobody gonna wanna shift here besides for someone that actually likes crafting things. idk i just feel like it’s a niche idea

number magic: uh so no, that's not the title for this dr-- I just really wanna make a dr with this kind of system. idk I was just in world lit class and I realized the poem I was reading was repeating the number 5. we were supposed to analyze the poem, but my dumbass just started daydreaming... anyway, next idea

fantasy cosmetic makeup maker dr: so like imagine handmaking make up with like... mermaid pearls or like ground unicorn horns (sourced ethically of course-- unicorns will shed their horns like baby teeth throughout their lifetime. I cannot imagine depriving a unicorn of its horn... imagine doing that... what a psycho😨) you could make like a mermaid line, a sky beauty line, IMAGINE THE PACKAGING. STOP. WAIT. FLOWER KNOWS. AHHH.

guardian flame: I have so little down for this DR lmao 😭😭 essentially like you're some sort of being that's been assigned to protect another, probably someone who isn't as strong as you. the kinda oddball part about your drself in particular is that you have to go to school to train how to be a good protector, but like you've already got a person you need to protect. nobody is assigned to protect anyone until affffftteeerrr graduation, but ur stuck with an idiot

futuristic skater/futuristic biker: self explanatory! I also wanted this to be in a high school setting. this idea stemmed from me just wanting a high school futuristic dr, cuz like yk I was curious about what high school students would need to learn. what would be considered important to learn about? would all students be taught about how to make technology we would find difficult to make today? what about psychology class? what new theories would arise? what would students think about our generation (in our CR) today? would they think we're stupid, crass, or selfish? anyway, initially I just wanted to go to school and walk around... but, I had a dream about living in the future, more abt that in the next idea (this idea is getting long). Instead, I think I wanna deviate a bit from what I would usually do here and in literally every other school dr I have-- I want to experience what it'd be like to be a... deliquient? idk, growing up i kinda just was just that quiet girl that listened to her parents... soooooooo why not do smth different? I'm still not gonna drink or do drugs tho, boooooooo ik so boring 🙄🙄 oh also I was gonna have a group of friends that were also skaters or bikers and compete in definitely legal biker/skater competitions

futuristic entertainment district: anyway more about that dream, essentially everyone was wearing these levitating rocket boots that looked a lot like roller skates (they had those wheels at the bottom of the shoes). the city was like a huge pot hole filled with stores on the side, but like it seemed like parts of the land was broken apart and floating around-- even those had advertisements and people singing and dancing on them. like this pot hole city was filled to the brim with advertisements, shops, stores, entertainment places, literally I remember that there was a huge section of like idol shit. there were a lot of people darting around the place using those levitating boots I was wearing, but there were also futuristic floating cars. imagine cyberpunk but if it was located in a big ass pot hole. yah, that. idk i just wanna explore

dystopian futuristic dr: similar to cyberpunk in the fact that it's a world dominated by companies; I want to join an underground group that wants to overtake the gov and make the world less ass

singles inferno - introvert ver: I actually have all the contestants scripted + designed a script for this DR, but I haven't worked on this script in a whiillleeeee. I wanna be song jia. not literally, but like I want to have her charm, yk? ok so the introvert part-- a lot of the game will take place in a group chat room. you do challenges in-person and in this chatroom to get a date, sometimes it's a random date, but most of the time it's like your choice. very heavily inspired by a game called picka!

a minecraft roleplay dr: I know at least one of yall cringed so hard at this, trust me, I knooowwwww-- but I really want to be like the next aphmau or smth. oh except I don't want to make kid vids, tho I'm sure yall knew that right. I want to recreate aethergarde academy in minecraft (ALSO ALRUNA TOO OMFG) but then I also wanna do other things that aren't dr related. idk I just know that this DR's gonna be sooooo fun. I haven't even decided on a channel name yet 😭😭

...

uh so I prob got more, but these were just the ones that came to mind

I'll prob make a part two when I'm lazy with posting

if anyone wants to use these ideas, please do credit me! if one of yall see someone using my ideas without credit, plz plz tell me, ty!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I have a couple of question-headcanons-idea thingies about Yves appearance if u don’t mind. So would Yves wear more gold or silver jewelry? Like I can’t decide whether he would have cool undertones or warm undertones. Cool undertones because of his sometimes very icy nature, steely stare and almost vampiric aspects of his nature. But also could be warm because of the motherly warmth and comfort he gives off, he reminds me of a hearth.

Also we gotta talk about how tall this man probably is like legit. Like you always describe him as tall and slender but it didn’t hit me until today that this man is probably a beanstalk. So like he was a model at one point which lets me know that he’s at the very least 6-6’3 naturally, now imagine the heels along with it, I dunno I personally think with heels he may be taller than Monty which adds to the intimidation factor.

Omg and his HAIRRR!! I always wondered what his natural hair texture is like whenever he doesn’t do blowouts. Like does he have naturally straight, wavy or even curly hair, I personally think he would have straight or slightly wavy naturally but I dunno, what r ur thoughts (if you have any, it’s okay to keep these things vague if u want)

(One day I will draw him Omg as u can see I have completely hyper fixated on him if I was reader I would be in his walls fr 😔)

Ou shid i am the opposite of minding, PLEASE DO SEND MOARR it also feeds my brain rot

anyways,

Yves only wears jewelry if it completes his look or it can aid him in manipulating people somehow.

When it comes to his outfits, he would wear silver if his clothes that day have cool undertones, and gold if it's warm and deep-toned. Yves could be your thermometer, if he knew that you're most likely to overheat that day, he would stick to cool neutrals. If it's chilly, he would don warm colors. Likewise with his choices in jewelry. Numerous other factors will determine his fashion, but the strongest influence is the weather and how he could use it to his advantage, making him much more appealing to you.

Yves's fingers are generally free of rings unless you and he were married. Then the wedding band will only leave his finger during certain situations such as performing surgery on you or cooking your meals. When he was younger, one of his favorite rings to wear was the brass knuckle. It would be a determining factor whether he beats his opponent into a bloody pulp, or he becomes one. As he grew older, he swapped that out with a quieter, secret compartment ring. A dash of whatever poison he decided to fill up that day does wonders without the mess and effort of throwing repeated punches. Perhaps you're particularly rowdy that day and wouldn't listen to reason, a little sedative would do the trick.

He does wear earrings though, mostly Diamond studded earrings because large or hanging ones would be more likely to snag on his hair and something else. He learned the existence of earlobe reattachment surgery through the hard way when he forgot to remove his hoops before a fight. But it doesn't mean he would never rock bolder styles, just rarely. During periods when he would wear his hair up, you would most likely see him wear pendant earrings that elongate the appearance of his elegant neck. Yves's extensive collection of jewelry he collected over the decade means you never see him wear the same set twice.

His height was kept vague because it would give me a lot of freedom to play with how he holds you. But just remember that he could carry you with one arm under your rear, on his hip, like a child. And to get to your eye level, he has to kneel. The height of his heels definitely depends on his goal and your personality, perhaps you're intimidated by his height. So he wears kitten pumps around you. However, to everyone else? Stilettos with red bottoms all the way.

Yves can wear flats or shoes, but why should he have to? He has worn heels for so long that it's actually much more comfortable to move in those torture devices. If you handed him a 20-inch lobster heel, Yves would walk or even run around in it as if he were wearing a pair of comfortable sneakers. His footwear must have at least a minimum of 2 inches on its heels.

If you pay close attention when he's barefoot, he's walking on his toes; he would be completely silent when moving around. But he's barely seen without some sort of footwear, even his home slippers have some height to it. This is mostly to alert you of his presence, so you won't have a heart attack whenever he greets you with a kiss on the back of your head.

His hair is implied to be naturally straight; he needed to sleep in silk curlers to look effortlessly gorgeous the next day. For the longest time, he hated his hair for not maintaining shape whenever he tried heat curling it. He wore extensions and wigs, and Yves tried shaving it all off to 'reset' his hair- that was one of the rougher patches in life he went through, he has experienced it all. Yves spent a good fortune on hairspray back then, he probably contributed greatly to the puncturing of the ozone layer. He wanted volume, he wanted structure, but he either didn't have the knowledge or the means to achieve that. Eventually, though, he learned through trial and error, through endless magazines and even research projects on how to care for his hair to look like his ideal. It's much thicker, healthier, and shinier than that of his past.

You wouldn't need to be in his walls, it's dusty there and you would get electrocuted with all the wiring in it. Yves wants you to come out so you would be in his lap, while he types away on his laptop. It's much more comfortable there, he wouldn't mind staying in the same position for hours and hours on end.

Just as long as you're fed, cleaned, using the toilet enough, and sleeping well. Yves will let you hyper-fixate on him as much as he hyperfixates on you.

But he knew that you wouldn't be able to even come close to his level of obsession towards you. And that's fine with him.

[its-short-for-jackalope]

OKAY, WE GOT A TRAILER AND A TITLE AND I HAVE THOUGHTS

You know what that means: it's brainrot time.

🏝 TITLE REVEAL: WHO IS THE SEARCHER IN THE SHADOWS?

quick note, I love this title. It's rad as hell. 10/10. anyway—

of course when I hear the word "Searcher" I immediately think of the one and only Addison Arvad, missing captain of the Antikythera and beloved wrecker of journals.

look at her. I love her. she's beautiful. also I am lowkey obsessed with how Jackie draws hair. (please teach me your secrets.)

We didn't get to learn much about Capt. Arvad in episode 3, but we do know that she was a Searcher who disappeared without any explanation, along with the rest of her crew. Kal probably had something to do with it, since he was attempting to retrieve the ship's orrery and said some vague stuff about fog and vortices, but even he doesn't seem to know exactly what happened to her and the crew.

Whatever the case, her disappearance is the reason most of the events in TGOA even happened, so it would make sense for her to be a big part of the next episode. And if Addison is the Searcher and the Searcher is in the shadows, then I have two (and a half?) theories.

The first is that she (and her crew, if they survived, who are also presumably all Searchers) are lost somewhere and that whatever "fogging the vertices" entails led to her getting whisked away somewhere else. She could be trapped there, trying to get out, and/or maybe she is in shadows in the same way Margaret was—maybe she has lost her memories and her magic.

The second theory is actually an idea @man-down-in-hatchet-town proposed that promptly blew my mind: what if whatever happened to Addison led to her getting corrupted and going dark and she is the villain of the episode? I honestly love this idea so much and I think it would be fun and also delightfully heartbreaking after hearing that entry from Addison's journal and getting a glimpse of the person she once was.

(also every pulp fan I know is in complete agreement that we want a cool female villain, pretty please Matt— 🥺🙏)

🏝 OH GOD, THE TIME TRAVEL

I've already yelled a bit about Rose being separated from Samuel and the others, so I'm not gonna repeat myself here, but I also have other thoughts about the time travel!

The trailer has confirmed that Rose was indeed sent two weeks into the past like Ahlaam said she would be. I think it's safe to assume that Rose will have to wait those two weeks until she can reunite with the others, and I also believe we're gonna have to wait with her.

Rose’s two weeks are going to be important—she's meeting Dakkar and hopefully getting some Travelore™ about the island and The Blazing World, and probably getting into some sort of trouble that better not require a printing press plate to resolve, since she doesn’t have it right now—so I don’t think they're going to just blip by. Otherwise what’s the point of sending her back in time?

I think it’s a pretty safe bet that we (the listeners) are probably going to be doing some time travel ourselves, hopping between Rose's two weeks with Dakkar and the rest of the brick family in the present as Sia takes them to the island and they get started on all that mysterious work they have to do. I have no idea what they're going to find there except maybe a rocket? but I can imagine Samuel and the others following Rose's trail as they piece together what's happened to her and learn about this place and its inhabitants, and then the storylines will connect by the end of the episode and we'll get the twins back together and they'll never be separated again!

Isn't that right, Mr. Dahan?

/lh

Alternatively, I suppose the Ellen Austin could be met on the shore by a Rose who has already spent two weeks on the island and then we could get relevant flashbacks here and there, but I don't think that's as likely. It might be too impractical for this medium when we have a lot of story (and lore) to cover and only so much time to sing about it! Plus, that"By the time our heroes are reunited" bit really makes me think that they won't see each other until closer to the end of the episode. The reunion is absolutely gonna make me cry. I can't wait.

🏝 TRAVELER ISLAND, BABEY!

The island's inhabitants have magic similar to Margaret's, and are led by a new group of powerful Travelers.

...Well, maybe it's not Traveler island, exactly. I'm guessing that most of these ~inhabitants~ are actually Searchers. Sia might not be the only Traveler, but I don't think there are a lot of them out there. It makes more sense for there to be less Travelers and more Searchers to balance things out if the Travelers are significantly more powerful like they've been implied to be.

I definitely think Ahlaam is one of the "new group of powerful Travelers" and I'm super excited to get to know her more. (I am also hoping that maybe we'll get a Jackie Traveler character? 👀) I still don't know if Dakkar is a Traveler or not, but I'm inclined to believe he might be a Searcher—mostly because his portrait doesn't have glowing eyes and flashy gold jewelry like Sia or Ahlaam. (I also feel like it may not be a coincidence that he's wearing a light blue-ish colored shirt like Addison, even if it's a different style and looks considerably less like a space suit, lol.)

They speak of a lost kingdom, The Blazing World, and how what occurs on Lincoln Island will impact an entire civilization.

The Blazing World!!! Rose hasn't heard this name yet, but we have! (and Margaret and Samuel.) The people on Lincoln Island could be survivors/refugees from the Blazing World, or perhaps they are all here on a war mission and this is simply their base of operations. Either way, I'm sure the civilization being impacted is the Travelers'; even if this island isn't currently sheltering all that remains of their people and this is only an outpost for the war, they still have some valuable people here—like Margaret, who is recovering her memories and I am certain has an incredibly vital role to play in this war—and the aftermath of whatever happens will undoubtedly be felt beyond the shores of Lincoln Island. Either our heroes succeed in whatever they're trying to do here, or it goes wrong and the Blazing World potentially loses valuable warriors & resources, and the war against Itzal takes a turn for the worse.

🏝 THE "D" WORD: DESTINY

By the time our heroes are reunited, they will be closer to understanding their destinies than ever before...

Destiny... oh, I've had many thoughts about this and been part of multiple discussions with various friends about fate and coincidence and puzzle pieces coming together in this story. enough that I'm almost not sure where to start.

...Eh, chronologically, I guess.

1817 — the year the Stratford family paper stand was established and the year Anna Hanover's father lost his place in the world. Both of these events affected the characters' lives, helping to cement the twins' love of stories and giving them an eventual connection to the New York Sun that would allow them to publish the moon hoax, and giving Anna her tragic backstory and a goal that would drive her to construct her own moon out of brick rather than ink.

1829 — the year I believe Margaret Cavendish arrived in New York City. She lost her memories and her magic, and the Travelers set her up here to live in comfort and safety and loneliness. We don't know why this happened yet, but I think it's safe to assume the location isn't a coincidence when we know at least one Traveler with precognitive abilities and it's only a handful of years until...

1835 — the year of the moon hoax and the brick satellite. Samuel and Rose Stratford write a story that takes the city by storm, attracting the attention of both Margaret Cavendish, who has been looking for answers and winds up with more questions and magic she doesn't remember or understand, and Sir John Herschel, who doesn't want fantastical stories written about him, thank you very much—but wait, how did he get here? He was in South Africa, a whole other hemisphere! How did he find out about the hoax so quickly?

Well, someone brought him the newspaper that made him come to New York, meet the Stratfords and Margaret, and invite them all to work on the brick satellite with him. They go to British Guiana, manage to finish the satellite alongside Anna, get it into the sky thanks to Margaret's Radiance, and finally meet the Traveler out in space, who somehow knew they would be there and knew Margaret's magic was returning but is surprised that her memories weren't. The Traveler knows more than she's telling, but rather than explain she sends the quartet back to Earth.

1874 — the year the quartet are teleported to. They happen to meet a friendly bosun who offers them a place on a ship that'll take them to New York, right where they want to go. Perfect, right? But in reality it takes them to a ghost ship that just so happens to contain some stuff that helps Margaret remember some things. There's a crazy awesome magic battle, sailors vanish, the ghost ship vanishes, and by the end of it all they're sailing towards a mysterious island and the Traveler, Sia, is telling them they have a lot of work to do.

...okay, the point I'm attempting to make here is that yeah, it definitely seems like something has been leading them here, to this time and place. I just can't tell if it's ✨️destiny✨️ or if it's just Sia, who can see into the future and had a clear hand in at least some of these occurrences. She sent our heroes to 1874 in a flash of light, right into Morgan's path, into Kal's, into the Antikythera's. And if she did that, who's to say she hasn't been guiding the quartet in more covert ways this whole time? Someone had to get that paper to John. Someone—specifically a Traveler someone—had to get Margaret settled in New York.

You could say that it's all destiny and that Sia's foresight and her actions are simply destiny's way of getting shit done, that it was all going to happen this way no matter what. You could also go round and round questioning how destiny and precognitive abilities work & influence each other until your brain feels like it's melting (why yes, I am speaking from experience) but I think I'm going to skip that and focus on a different question instead:

What does destiny (or Sia) have in store for our heroes?

I don't know, of course. probably a rocket at some point? gotta wait for the episode to find out.

but regardless of who or what has been pulling the strings, it took a lot to get our heroes to this point and the idea that they're meant to be here, that they've always been headed toward something that's more than this the lives they had before is so unbelievably exciting??? even if you don't care for the idea of destiny or fate, you know great things are coming and that the story is gonna get bigger and wilder.

🏝 YEAH I KEEP MENTIONING THE ROCKET, DON'T I?

might as well actually give it its own little section on this ramble-y ass post, lol.

We've had hints that there'd be at least one rocket in the story from the very first M.A.I.A. transmission. (If you haven't seen those, you're missing out!) Now that we're getting new cast photos where everyone has been posing with a little red rocket, it looks like it's time!

Maybe the quartet are going to help the Travelers build a rocket. Maybe they're going to help repair a rocket that already exists. Maybe they're going to go to space again, or another planet—The Blazing World?—or maybe they're only going to see the Travelers off and that'll be it. (Okay, that last one would be a little disappointing, lmao.) Hell, maybe they're only going to Lincoln Island to meet a rocket that hasn't arrived yet! So many possibilities!

...hmm. I think that's it? I think that's all the thoughts I had. I have been putting this post together off and on since last night so if I missed anything or it seems a little disjointed then that's why, lmao.

this is admittedly less of a theory post at times and more of a John impression (it's not my fault I have questions!) but why wait for M.A.I.A. transmissions and more information when I can shout about it all now? the universe simply wouldn't be right if I didn't seize every opportunity to scream about Pulp Musicals.

anyway, if you read all of this then I hope you enjoyed it! you can expect/dread more posts like this in the coming weeks, as soon as we get more info and M.A.I.A. transmissions. can't wait to see my best girl again. 💙

...I really hope Matt and Jackie have gotten that window fixed.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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198 for ➰

There MAY not be enough left... I am breaking this one into two chapters. We shall see!

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

“Like, I don’t know? A day?”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie begs. “Wait, please. Let me explain.”

He doesn’t. 

He opens the door and storms out, letting it swing shut behind him. And then he just starts walking. He walks out of the hotel, past the patio where they’ve eaten breakfast for several repeated days in a row now, and heads towards the rocky oceanside cliffs. There’s a staircase down to the water, and that’s where he’s headed. He needs somewhere loud enough to drown out his frustrated screaming. 

As he jogs down the stairs, he hears Eddie chasing after him.

“Wait! Buck, wait! You shouldn’t do this!”

Fuck that. He’ll do whatever the fuck he wants. None of it matters anyway, right?

His feet slap from wood to sand, knees wobbling a bit at the change in ground solidity. He ignores it and pushes forward. He is so angry. He feels like one of those cartoon characters steaming like a boiled kettle. He must be emitting vapors. 

“Buck!”

Every time he hears Eddie’s voice it just makes him angrier. He’s never actually been this mad at Eddie before. Or mad more generally, really. Not that they haven’t had rough patches in their friendship. They did. But Buck always felt more guilty and insecure than angry. Right now, though? Right now he is fully convicted. He’s pissed at Eddie. 

“Buck! Please!” 

Buck feels like an animal in a cage. He takes a few steps towards the water. A wave crashes against the rocky sand, rolling up over his feet and soaking the bottom of his pajama pants. He realizes he probably looks ridiculous. 

“Buck, please,” Eddie says again. “Please let me explain!”

Buck whirls on him. 

“Oh, now you want to talk about it?” He laughs bitterly. “Now? What possible explanation could you have, Eddie? I tried saying that things felt wrong and you acted like I was imagining things! That’s fucking gaslighting!”

“I know, I know. And I’m so sorry-”

“You’re sorry? Why the fuck would you do that to me? I thought I was losing my mind!”

“I TRIED!” Eddie finally bursts. “I tried telling you so many times and you never remembered! You never believed me! You thought I was crazy!”

“What?” Buck feels thoroughly confused now. “What do you mean?”

“I swear lying to you wasn’t my first plan!”

Buck shakes his head. “But… But this is like… Day four? Day five? I-I don’t understand.”

Eddie’s face crumples. He looks like he’s going to cry. 

“No, it’s not. Buck… I mean, maybe for you. You only started acting differently these past few go-arounds…”

“Go-arounds?” Buck exhales. Eddie has a word for this? 

“I… I don’t know how many there’s been,” Eddie admits. “I… It’s been so many.” 

Buck takes a step backwards, towards the ocean. 

“What’s going on?” He demands. 

Eddie takes a shaky breath. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Eddie.” 

If Eddie has been trapped in… Well today… If he’s been trapped here for who knows how long, then he must… Well, that would fuck with a person. Did the guy from Groundhog Day have a breakdown? 

Buck’s shoulders drop. His anger morphs to sadness. He walks a bit closer to Eddie. 

“What happened, Eddie?” He asks, softer. “Why is this happening to us?”

Eddie opens his eyes again. They’re full of tears and apprehension. Like he’s terrified to say it. 

“Come on,” Buck pleads. “I can help.”

“You can’t,” Eddie whispers. 

“Why? Eddie, Jesus. Why not?”

“Because we died!” Eddie blurts. “We died. We all died. We’re all dead.”

Buck is frozen for a second. 

“Wh-what?”

“We died, Buck. All of us.”

No? 

No, that can’t be. 

“Ch-Chris?” 

Eddie nods, eyes flickering to the ground.

No.

No, no, no.

Chris can’t die. Chris is never allowed to die. Not him.

Buck thought… Well, he thought it was just him. The car accident… Falling on the rocks by the ocean. That had just been him. 

“Uh, the car crash?” Buck asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“Then, um… Then what?”

“I don’t really know?” Eddie says. “It’s at the restaurant. We all die at the restaurant. I don’t know why.”

Buck remembers feeling very strange at that restaurant. Not being able to taste his food. Not being able to hear Eddie. But the memory feels very far away. 

“So, are we in… Purgatory?” Buck asks. 

Eddie shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, Buck! I don’t know. We’re stuck in the same twelve hours, over and over and over again, and I can’t get us out of it alive.”

“Twelve?” Buck asks. That isn’t what he expected. 

Eddie nods. “You always wake up around eight. It’s over by eight in the evening. It resets.”

Buck scratches his head. “Why don’t you just not go to the restaurant?” 

Seems simple enough. 

“You think I haven’t tried that?” Eddie scoffs. “Buck, if we don’t, it’s worse.” 

“Worse?” Buck asks.

Eddie nods. “If we don’t do the day the way it’s supposed to go, one of us dies sooner. More horrifically. But the day still goes on, Buck.”

“What do you mean?” Buck asks.

“Do you think the day just ended when you hit your head on those rocks?” Eddie demands. 

Well, yeah. He sort of had. For him it had. 

“Because it didn’t!” Eddie continues. “I had to call 9-1-1. I had to try and help you, even though I knew you wouldn’t make it.  I had to watch them come and take your body away. I had to console Christopher! Who watched you die!”

“Oh god,” Buck mumbles, feeling nauseous.

“We don’t get to fast forward through it, Buck!” Eddie sounds frantic. “I still have to finish the twelve hours!” 

“The car wreck?” Buck asks.

Eddie pauses for a moment. 

“Uh… I don’t know. Maybe I died too. Maybe I had a head injury.”

Buck thinks this through. The implications of what Eddie is saying. 

“We have to do the same thing over and over?” He asks. “Even if it leads to our death?”

Eddie chokes out a little frustrated noise. 

[klainepolls]

unexpected- day 2 of 7

by: @kurtsascot

day 1

POLL AT END RESOLVES COFFEE FIASCO

———

It’s Kurt Hummel.

Blaine doesn’t know much about Kurt, but he’d recognize him anywhere- He has spent the better part of his junior year pining for the guy, and their hypothetical love life has been an unrelenting rumination since last semester.

Granted, the admiration is embarrassingly one-sided. As a teaching assistant, Kurt rarely steered conversations away from the course material, and their one-on-one talks were wholeheartedly unremarkable. It’s unlikely that Blaine made a lasting impression- Kurt probably doesn’t even remember him.

It’s not like Blaine wanted his crush to be noticed last semester anyway. He didn’t want class to turn awkward or to make things weird or to make Kurt uncomfortable, so he forced himself to maintain some distance.

After finals, Blaine figured he’d never see Kurt again. NYU has so many majors and classes, and New York City is even more expansive- the odds of seeing Kurt, and of having the opportunity to spark up conversation, were slim. He could have graduated. Or moved. Blaine knew that. Logically.

But, Blaine’s human and evidently masochistic.

He’s been fantasizing. Despite his better judgement, Blaine’s imagined every scenario, every way he could hypothetically run into Kurt. He’s daydreamed about how to best introduce himself. He’s planned how he could, theoretically, convince Kurt to like him back. He knows what he would do. You know, conceptually.

It’s different in the moment.

Blaine’s infatuation had begun to ease over winter break and with the hubbub of a new semester. Seeing Kurt in person throws him right back into the thick of it.

It’s terrifying.

As the seconds tick by, Blaine’s all the more aware of how unprepared he is to talk to Kurt and propose something more.

He’s never been this close to Kurt. He’s close enough to pick up on the faint freckles on his nose, to see the individual strands of his hair, to feel his breath on his face-

The longer Blaine stares, the more incoherent he feels, and the more certain he is that he’s going to blow this.

He might have already blown it. Kurt is covered in his boiling coffee, after all.

…Shit.

“It’s fine,” Kurt says, shaking his head. He sounds a little annoyed, but not mad, and Blaine’s going to take that as a win. “Honestly, this is just my luck,” he mumbles, taking a step back, and Blaine resists the urge to chase his warmth. “I don’t need to be anywhere this early- I should’ve just slept in.”

Blaine waves his coffee soaked hands in front of his face. “No, No. This is my fault. Really. I wasn’t paying attention- I was running late.” His hands are still burning- Blaine pulls off his mittens, wincing as his reddened palms meet the cold January air, and then, tragically, he becomes all the more aware that Kurt has skin under his dress shirt, and that he’s probably in pain too. “Are you okay?”

A small smile. It doesn’t reach Kurt’s eyes. He’s holding back because of course he is- he doesn’t know Blaine. Not really. “It’s cold enough out here that getting drenched in your coffee is kind of nice,” Kurt says through a laugh that bubbles. “Thanks for asking.”

Kurt cranes his neck down and pulls his shirt away from his chest, inspecting the stain.

Coffee’s everywhere, and Blaine knows his designers- Kurt’s got on a Vivienne Westwood button down. He groans. “I’m sorry,” he uselessly repeats. “I’m not normally this distracted, I swear. Is it ruined?” He isn’t above buying Kurt a replacement, but he doubts that a replica is in his price range.

Kurt tsks, playfully offended. “Please. I’ve rescued clothes with far worse staining. It’ll be fine.”

Blaine’s worry melts away and he finds himself laughing and maybe smiling a bit too wide. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. My apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” Kurt acquiesces and smiles back. He scrunches his nose and he points behind Blaine’s shoulder, into the coffee shop. “But, can I squeeze past? I am getting stickier by the second-“ He lets out a purposefully dramatic sigh. “I think I’m going to have to face my fears and brave a New York City public restroom.”

Blaine laughs again, but his smile falters, and he worries his lip between his teeth.

God. He doesn’t want this interaction to be over. He doesn’t want Kurt to leave. He needs more time.

As Kurt starts to step around him, Blaine blocks his path.

“Wait-”

[suhnshinehaos]

treacherous : act two, part eight (2/2)

...a spin-off to crush culture ! synopsis : after a couple of instances of accidental matching clothing, yangyang finds himself in a dating rumor with possibly the most famous person on campus : yn, the bassist of an up and coming band. yangyang doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. unfortunately yn, who has also built up a reputation for being cold as winter, does. pairing : liu yangyang x gn!reader genre/s : university au, student council + band au, fluff, angst, humor

act one, part eight : campus lights wc : 1.2k

previous  ➤  act two, part eight (1/2) next  ➤  act two, part nine treacherous  ➤  masterlist 

yangyang ends the call, but you keep your eyes closed. you’ve developed a mantra of some sorts : inhale, count to three, exhale. rinse and repeat until you somehow manage to get your heart rate down.

but you hear it in the distance. the crowd’s cheers. the music blasting from the speakers. you expected the huge crowd; along with the homecoming festival, ncit’s campus lights is one of the university’s most popular traditions. being asked to perform, let alone headline, is an honor that only a select portion of the student body would actually experience.

maybe that’s where the pressure is coming from. or perhaps it was just the fact that you made the idiotic decision of going through twitter backstage.

[ we all know why dv hasn’t performed in so long ]

[ if the performance crashes and burns let’s just blame gy ]

[ dv are probably so out of practice for performing live ]

the words drill into your brain, one after the other. but you attempt to keep your breathing even, to keep your counting consistent. your fists clench and unclench themselves, taking a few more seconds to yourself.

you know you can’t stay away forever; you’d eventually have to go on stage to perform. you can’t let dejun, mark, and hendery down. they’ve been nothing but understanding and supportive of your hesitance to perform live, it’s time to repay the favor. you can’t let the student council down. they’ve placed so much trust in the band for asking them to perform on the one of the university’s biggest events.

you can’t let yangyang down, especially when he’s believed in you all this time. well, at least since he’s decided that he wanted to be your friend and meant it.

your eyes flutter open, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards into a ghost of a smile. how is he actually going to stall?

regardless, you couldn’t let him carry that burden alone. there’s only so many jokes and stories he can tell with shotaro and the crowd playing along. you take one final sharp intake of breath, shake off the nervousness that lingered in your limbs, and make your way backstage.

the first thing you see is your bandmates waiting for you, their eyes going wide when they finally catch sight of you. perhaps it’s just your imagination, but you think you see mark letting out a very heavy breath of relief.

“i’m sorry for leaving like that,” you don’t even meet their concerned gazes, eyes trained on your feet when you finally stand in front of them.

dejun smiles, gentle and reassuring, keeping his voice as soft as he can, “don’t worry about it. we knew you’d come back anyways.”

“exactly!” hendery nods enthusiastically, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “you ready?”

he shakes your shoulders lightly, forcing you to look up at him. you can’t help but chuckle, “yeah, i am.”

mark grins, handing you your jacket, “you left so quickly, you forgot to bring this. i’m surprised you didn’t freeze out there. thought i’d have to figure out how to play the bass and guitar at the same time.”

“shut up.” you roll your eyes but take the jacket nonetheless, shrugging hendery’s arm off your shoulders to put it on, “thanks.”

“you’re up next.” a stagehand approaches the four of you, letting you know that it’s almost time to take the stage.

you take a deep breath, your bandmates guiding you to wait in the wings with them. you watch as an ensemble of music majors make their way off the stage and yangyang and shotaro make their way to the middle of it.

“give it up for that wonderful quartet!” shotaro greets the crowd, the entire field of students drowining his voice in excited cheers.

yangyang places a hand over his heart, “wow. that was really heartwarming, right taro? i was actually about to cry from how beautiful that music was.”

“here, let me get that for you.” shotaro moves to wipe the non-existent tear that was rolling down yangyang’s cheek.

you join as the audience erupts in laughter. dejun nudges your side with his own, raising an eyebrow when you turn to look at him.

“don’t.” you mutter, shaking your head and bringing your attention back to the stage. for the briefest of seconds, yangyang’s eyes meet yours and you send him a quick smile, letting him know that he didn’t have to stall as much.

he nods to himself, turning to address the audience once again, “now our next act… where do i even begin with this next one?”

shotaro doesn’t miss the light pink flush that colored his friend’s cheeks, “the second we announced the date for campus lights, you guys would just not stop asking us about this particular band. lucky for us, yang over here is quite close to the members… right, yang?”

the audience erupts in cheers, knowing exactly who would be performing next. you feel your heart about to beat out of your chest.

“very lucky.” yangyang chuckles, “our next performer is one of the most talented, if not the most talented, groups in music right now. i know we’re all excited so i won’t keep you guys waiting. please, put your hands together for…”

“dejun, mark, gyeoul, and hendery… DREAMVISION!”

shotaro joins yangyang’s voice they practically scream in introducing the band, gesturing towards where the four of you were waiting by the stage. your heart skips the smallest of beats when you realize shotaro called you gyeoul in his introduction, but yangyang didn’t. he called you by your name. for the smallest of moments, your feet are glued to the ground beneath them and you can’t blame your nervousness in entirety.

yangyang and shotaro make their way the side of the stage just as the dejun, mark, and hendery make their way out.

just as you were about to follow them out, but your shoulder brushes against yangyang’s. he grabs your wrist, his touch soft and gentle.

“good luck.” he speaks lowly, in a voice just loud enough for you to hear, “if the crowd is too overwhelming, just find your way back to me. i’ll be right here.”

yangyang lets go of you, his words replaying in your mind until you reach your place.

however, it’s cut off by the crowd’s screams. the bright lights shine directly at your features and you grip at your instrument tighter. it takes a few seconds until your eyes adjust to the light and you finally see just how big the audience is.

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat, gaze frantically looking for something - anything - familiar. you find dejun sending you a reassuring smile as he grabs a hold of mic, mark sending you a thumbs up before taking a pick from his pocket, hendery giving you his brightest grin before raising his drumsticks. finally, you find yangyang in the side of the stage. he’s right next to shotaro, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

‘ you got this. ’

he mouths to you, just as hendery begins to count down, signalling the beginning of the set.

if they believed in you, everything is going to be okay. 

from reese, with love <3 ohhh my yangyeoul heart sighhh thank you sm for reading! id love to know what you think of this written part hehe hope you’re all doing well and taking care :))

[novembermorgon]

Would be funny if Maegor and Aenys got a trueborn younger sister, and were actually normal about her.

They are still very Targ about each other, but just care for their sister in a non-incestous, non-weird way.

Someone: Don't you wish for a sister-wife?

Aenys: Well, if Maegor was a girl, she would be that, but he's a man, so I am stuck having to share him with his wife.

Someone: But you do have a legitmate sister!

Aenys: Ugh, gross! Thats my little sister you're talking about!

LMFAOO aenys stuck having to share his brother with his wife ... 💔 the world is cruel and unjust.

probably regardless of legitimacy the turnout is likely to be that maegor is going to be normal about it and aenys is going to be weirder. aenys i imagine was definitely raised more directly by aerion because of the two he's more skilled at and interested in traditionally masculine things like swordfighting & hunting & tourneys etc and so his outlook on life is a lot more targ-aligned than maegor's. and of course aerion is completely normal about his family customs and history so you can imagine.

aenys to me has sort of a very deep seated insecurity hardwired into him very early that he tries very very hard to push past . he's repeating the pattern of being a second son and his dad's favourite, constantly compared to his brother and propped up as without fault and flaw - he's a TARGARYEN and needs to ACT LIKE IT . be a MAN etc so then, similarly to aerion, his lack of a sister to marry becomes kind of another point of insecurity. almost like a little point to jab at and go look, here's how you will never truly be good enough - there was never even a chance for you to live up to all these expectations .

so you can imagine . with a legitimate sister it'd be worse but even with aerea i think there's a bit of time where he very firmly thinks im going to marry aerea and if mom says no im going to do it anyways behind her back. because it's what i deserve . because it's only right

don't think he ever really likes her that much on a personal level though . something to say i guess about his preference to feminize and imagine maegor as his wife over caring for any women in his life . homosexuality or advanced stages of incest brain? let's unpack this

[autisticempathydaemon]

Ohmygod I love matchups

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

Too sweet by Hozier ofc ofcm I looove Hozier and the way he sings about relationships 😭 Im like not fixated on a specific lyric, I'm fixated on the wedding bells in the background of the chorus

What is your Enneagram type?

Okay it has been a FUCKTON of time since I looked at that stuff but iirc it was 2? Me being an infp is literally the only thing I can consistently remember bc ADHD brain

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

YESS I listen to them whenever I'm playing Sims or working on something. Any of Jenny Nicholson or Li Speaks’ videos are common for that Nostalgic Essay Stuff. SPECIFICALLY Jenny Nicholson’s jeff the killer fanfiction book video because I OWNED THAT BOOK. I WROTE CREEPYPASTA FANFICTION AND I OWNED THAT BOOK

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

I did not have one and I pretended to because everyone else did and I felt weird for not having one

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Imagining being loved and cared for 😭 or whumpy fanfiction scenarios no in-between. But they usually overlap

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

I named myself after a character cause I relate ofc but I also named myself echo because it was another birth name in consideration for me and it feels like… whimsical

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

ITS STILL “FLIRTY VAMPIRE LOSES CONTROL” BECAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH SCENES WHERE THE HUMAN PARTNER OF A “MONSTER” CHARACTER IS DIRECTLY CONFRONTED WITH THEIR MONSTROUS TRAITS AND LOVES THEM ANYWAY.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

Gavin </3 I am simply not a sexual person and it puts me off a bit lol

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

This spectacular show called dramaworld about a girl whos obsessed with kdramas and gets sucked into the world of them, but not in a “the events are real” way, in a “the entire world is a setup for the same characters to go through various plots, forgetting and falling in love over and over again” and it's hilarious and it's such a comfort show even though I can't watch it anywhere anymore I don't think. The main romance is top tier. It's so funny. And the stakes and plot twists are actually pretty good

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

Probably Sam? I want him to be my dad. I have issues.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

Apparently when I'm half asleep I start talking about horses? But when I'm still conscious, I mostly talk about like. Vampires mostly.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

doritos dinamita and mountain dew yes I am basic

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

I don't have favorite playlists so much as I play 4-6 songs over and over on repeat until I'm sick of them. Currently, those songs are too sweet by Hozier, no more birthdays by sophie may, and Every Chappelle Roan Song.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

I love bad romance novels the more ridiculous and bad, the better. kresley cole's immortals after dark are fun to make fun of (no. Hate if you like them)

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!

Uhhh my favorite form of interaction is parallel play. irl or digital, in a digital sense it means “we're liveblogging two separate things we're doing at the same time” lmao

- Asher-Echo/vampire-bite

Ooh, there’s a lot of good info to consider here. Initially, it was hard because I find Type Two’s easily compatible with most of the Redacted bois, but what said about “not being a sexual person” made it easy to choose Ollie for you.

Because he has never and will never get a BA, I love to headcanon Ollie as either asexual, low-libido, or both, so that’s one reason I think he’d be a good match for you. I also love that y’all would like so many of the same things like open-world games, bad/silly romance novels, and spending time with one another without the pressure to actively interact or engage with each other. (Also creepypastas. I love to headcanon Ollie as a horror, creepypasta fiend, given he grew up on the internet around when Jeff the Killer came to be.)

Every day with Ollie would be so comfortable and domestic, so sweet. Like, on a long weekend like this one if you’re American, I can see y’all spending it at home, a little staycation. He’d be in the other room or one end of the couch reading, and you’d be on the other reading one of your romance novels. Cattywumpus would be on your lap, because you’re his favorite. Your music is playing in the background, and you both stop what you’re doing to dance to “Hot to Go!”, because Ollie would totes love Chappell Roan.

Song:

Spillin' wine and homemade drinks/ We throw a cheers, the worries sink/ Damnit, it's so good to be alive/ We know that we don't got much/ But, then again, it's just enough/ To always find a way for a good time

Ollie strikes me as the type of guy who loves simple, feel-good, folk-esque music, someone being honest and emotional with a guitar. That’s one reason I like this song for y’all and can imagine it shuffled with yours as y’all hang out. The other is that this love song is sweet, catchy, simple just like Ollie~

Runner-ups:

Your love of the Sims and cheesy paranormal romance novels compels me to give you Elliott as a runner-up, because he could bring the things you read and create to life in your dreams, and that’d be so fun! In contrast, your Enneagram type and identifying yourself as nonsexual makes me want to pair you with Cam who gives me an asexual, easily affectionate vibe.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[aprillikesthings]

So I am fascinated by how some fandoms just...spontaneously end up with some tropes repeating over and over in fic (especially explicit fics)

Like, I've never been in a fandom that had many coffee shop au's, but I know there are fandoms where they're super popular. There are fandoms with absolutely massive amounts of omegaverse and fandoms with like, none.

And sometimes it's obvious why a particular fandom ends up with a popular fic tropes: Steven Universe fandom has a lot of high-school au's. She-Ra has a lot of university au's. (These are probably the same authors at least some of the time!)

But sometimes it's a complete fucking mystery to me???

And a thought/question about explicit catradora fics under the readmore:

With the obvious disclaimer that I have not read a double-digit percentage of the explicit catradora fics on ao3 (seriously there's 1,668 of them as of right now), I have read uhhh maybe a dozen or two dozen of them?

And I'm dying to know: why is tribbing (i.e. rubbing your vulva on someone's body; sometimes the other person's vulva but in this fandom usually their thigh) so INSANELY COMMON in catradora fics?

I say this knowing that before I even read fics in this fandom, I'd already written my own tribbing scene into my current WIP! So like, I'm including myself here. I didn't even know it was such a huge thing when I wrote it. Like, I think it was the first sex scene I wrote for that fic. So it wasn't just from seeing it in other fics, which would be the obvious reason.

So imagine my surprise and amusement when I started inhaling fics and "rubbing off on each other's thighs" is INCREDIBLY common in catradora fics, whether they're pre-canon or mid-canon or post-canon or non-fantasy au or those au's where they're on modern Earth but all the partially-animal characters are still partially-animal, so like, Catra works an office job but still has cat ears and a tail (I admit I love these)

So now I'm sitting here going: why is that the sex act so many of us write???? Like we might also write oral and fingering and whatever else, don't get me wrong.

If it was just canon-ish fics I could sort of see it: I could imagine a situation where all of us are looking at Catra's claws and possibly-rough tongue and going uhhhhhhh...hm. But...everyone manages to get around that! We decide that Catra can retract her claws. Either her tongue is closer to a human's or Adora's into it lol.

I've had some theories.

My first thought was that rather than "take turns" they can kiss and face each other the whole time? And we really want that for them? (But...there are other sex acts where you can do that.)

But maybe also it's the kind of thing that is the obvious next step when frantically making out (as one might when you finally get to kiss/fuck the person you've loved and wanted most while also actively tried to hurt for the last multiple years...don't mind me just having. feelings. again. ;_;) and not wanting to separate for even a second???

I mean I say this knowing a couple of weeks ago I posted about how the first time I made out with another girl, when I was 17, she shoved her knee into my crotch and I nearly came even though we were both fully dressed lol

So are we all basing it on our own first times with another girl? Because I know that's why I wrote it.

Anyway, likely nobody will see this post lol, BUT, if you read or write she-ra/spop fics lemme know if you've noticed this (like seriously is it just the fics I personally happen to have read?) and if you have theories

Because this is not my first f/f pairing or fandom for which I have read and/or written a ton of fics (lol), but this is the first one where like, nearly every explicit fic has had "rub it out on each other's thighs while making out, either dressed or naked" in it lol

[realcube]

YOU GOT: EIJIRO KIRISHIMA (age up)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ matchup for @nichupichu

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ if you would like a matchup, read this!

'I am blunt and sometimes way too honest. My sarcasm is easily misunderstood because I tend to have a very emotional less face. If you are my friend, you basically have scary dog privileges everywhere you go.'

𓆩♡𓆪 this kinda reminds me of bakugo a bit , and the two of them are still friends

𓆩♡𓆪 so it makes sense that he would get on well with you too

𓆩♡𓆪 since he's very light-hearted and doesn't take things too seriously/personally so he wouldn't mind if you were to be brutally honest with him at times

𓆩♡𓆪 in fact he'd probably find it endearing, since he mostly works with heroes who are all very kind and perky (with the exception of bakugo lol)

𓆩♡𓆪 which is nice n all but you really have a sass and wit to you that he likes and hence makes you stand out

𓆩♡𓆪 and once again, because of his friends he's probably used to dry humour so your sarcasm wouldn't be lost on him

𓆩♡𓆪 maybe you could have a meet-cute where a gang of villains is terrorising the high street you're shopping on, and he swoops in and handles them in a heroic fashion, saving lives and almost levelling the street in the process (with the strength of his quirk, yk?)

𓆩♡𓆪 and once all the villains have been dealt with, ofc everyone else on the high street is like 'omg sturdy hero red riot we love you 🤩😍 please sign my baby's forehead!'

𓆩♡𓆪 meanwhile you say smth like 'i was literally just about to do that 🙄' as a joke to your friends bc he is like.. a pro hero and you're a civilian who was most definitely not about to beat up a gang of villains

𓆩♡𓆪 meanwhile kirishima overhears and is immediately intrigued

𓆩♡𓆪 and omg you guys could have a little back-and-forth where he teases you by saying 'i'm sure you would've' or 'good thing you were here in case i needed back up'

𓆩♡𓆪 and you're just like 😳 bc ??? wtffff you didn't mean for pro hero red riot to hear you

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'I wish for someone laid-back and easy-going who, at the same time, doesn’t shy away from experiencing new adventures.'

𓆩♡𓆪 this is very much kirishima

𓆩♡𓆪 he's shown to be very patient with his friends and friendly in general

𓆩♡𓆪 he is very passionate but that doesn't mean he can't be calm and take it easy at times

𓆩♡𓆪 especially once he becomes a pro-hero i think he'll become more fond of the idea of simply relaxing opposed to always doing something

𓆩♡𓆪 though, he is still going to be very disciplined when he comes to his training and stuff. but what i mean is that in his down time — say, at the beach — he'll probably opt for relaxing in a lounger or going for a swim, opposed to playing a fierce game of volleyball or doing laps

𓆩♡𓆪 so he'll definitely be more chill as the years go on

𓆩♡𓆪 also he definitely doesn't mind repeating himself because i can imagine he's gotten used to it by now. with the state of his teeth, he's probably slurring words all the time so ppl are asking him to repeat himself anyway

𓆩♡𓆪 and besides that, he's just so kind that he'll be quick to do anything you need him to. plus, repeating himself a couple times is the bare minimum, how could be mad at that ??

𓆩♡𓆪 since he's a pro-hero , i think it goes without saying that he likes a bit of adventure lol

𓆩♡𓆪 ESPECIALLY after that whole "rescuing bakugo from the lov" excursion

𓆩♡𓆪 that was an adventure and a HALF

𓆩♡𓆪 he'd definitely always be inviting you to do random side quests with him haha

𓆩♡𓆪 like going climbing in the middle of winter

𓆩♡𓆪 or going skiing/snowboarding

𓆩♡𓆪 or cheese tasting

𓆩♡𓆪 once he's a pro hero. he probably gets invited to events in other countries and you can bet that he will bringing you with him every single time no matter where he is going for how long

𓆩♡𓆪 even if it is a sponsored thing for heroes only, he will make them pay to bring you as well, or just pay for you himself

𓆩♡𓆪 and depending on what your BNHA AU quirk is , he would maybe take you on some of his lower-stake missions too lmao

𓆩♡𓆪 'babe do you want to come with me to break chargebolt out of an abandoned prison that is now a villain hideout? 😁 i'll bring your favourite snacks!'

𓆩♡𓆪 couple's bonding experience lol

𓆩♡𓆪 BUT he would only take you if he knew you'd be able to handle it because he'd never be able to forgive himself if something bad happened to you after he brought you on a mission (angst matieral 😣)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'get some snacks, go to the park, eat them there while watching the lights of the fairy wheel, and talk for hours.'

𓆩♡𓆪 omg if this was a first date i can imagine kiri being so flustered, he would try to do the think where he throws a piece of popcorn or a skittle in the air and catches it in his mouth (to be playful and to impress you , ofc) but bc he is so nervous, his aim is terrible and instead of it landing his mouth , it lands on your head

𓆩♡𓆪 and he would just pass away on the spot out of embarrassment lol

𓆩♡𓆪 jkjk

𓆩♡𓆪 hsi reaction probably depends on what the food is

𓆩♡𓆪 if it is popcorn (which is soft and light) , he would just laugh awkwardly and pick it out of your hair for you. it's strange at the time but it's a moment that you can both look back on and laugh at

𓆩♡𓆪 HOWEVER

𓆩♡𓆪 if it's a skittle ... oml

𓆩♡𓆪 those are so hard and firm, if it were to hit you on the head, that would hurt a lil 😭 obviously you're not gonna get serious brain trauma but.. yk.. ouch

𓆩♡𓆪 but with the way kiri acts, it's as though you had suffered a serious impact

𓆩♡𓆪 like he is so mortified and constantly asking you if you are okay and whether you need him to seek medicial assistance

𓆩♡𓆪 oh and let's not forget that he is apologising profusely

𓆩♡𓆪 and it's a moment that you look back and laugh at (because you didn't get hurt much but his reaction was so dramatic), but whenever you remind him of it, he gets so defensive

𓆩♡𓆪 'of course i was being dramatic!! i was so worried about you!! i was scared i might've made a skittle sized lump on your head!!'

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'I will try to win prices for my date at some of the stands, but I will fail miserably like I always do.'

𓆩♡𓆪 this is very quick but

𓆩♡𓆪 if it was your first date, and you were trying to win him a prize at one of the stalls

𓆩♡𓆪 and you fail miserably, he's gonna try to reassure you by saying something like 'don't worry, nita. you didn't win but you still looked very manly trying.'

𓆩♡𓆪 and bc this is your first date, you don't know that he uses 'manly' for literally everything positive so you're like... is he insulting me???

𓆩♡𓆪 and bc it's the first date, he is awkward and so nervous around you that he can't think of any other positive descriptor besides 'manly' haha

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

for @nichupichu: hope you enjoyed!! if not kiri then i probably would've given you denki kaminari