#as literally anyone who has met me can attest

[empressofmankind]

On My Silent Days

I Miss You A Little Louder

[Crocodile x female!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 7k / 15 pages

A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.

Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.

You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.

What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.

Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.

My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."

Yes. That's it. That's the plot.

She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.

screams into a pillow

Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.

ON MY SILENT DAYS 

I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER

The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen. 

Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.

The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.

Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?

Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank. 

The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”

She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.

“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket. 

Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.

Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.

"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.

"No."

"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."

"I have changed my ways."

Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse." 

Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."

"Hah." 

The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."

She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.

She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.

They were very good.

Always had been.

Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.

Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.

She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.

Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."

He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.

"Or a dud's haul." 

He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.

"The entertainment isn't half bad."

“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”

Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”

She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.

“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?” 

Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.

"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.

Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note. 

"And if I do?"

She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.

He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.

Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.

She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.

He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours." 

Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke. 

“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend. 

Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’. 

She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.

Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response. 

Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.

Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.

She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.

She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.

The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.

“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.

Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in: 

“Yes, Sir.”

The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.

Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.

She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.

She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.

Almost. 

Almost there.

And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled. 

Look. No hands, motherfucker.

Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.

“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”

Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.

His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.

“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.

 “Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office. 

Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.

She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.

He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders. 

Shivs met his gaze, panting.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”

He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.

“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.

The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”

“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.

Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”

Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.

“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar. 

And lord, if she wasn't tempted.

“You share ‘em these days?”

His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet. 

“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.

Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”

Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”

“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.

She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”

He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand. 

“Come here, doll.”

It would have been too easy.

She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.

“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.

He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”

“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”

The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.

He pressed a kiss against it. 

“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.

Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”

Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.

Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.

“You still have those.”

He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?

“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.

“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.

“For now?”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips. 

“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.

When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.

“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.

“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”

“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”

“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

“Don’t tempt me- ah!”

Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.

“Like what you see?”

“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.

A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.

His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.

She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace. 

Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.

A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.

He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.

She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.

Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.

Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”

“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”

He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.

“Am I not a good girl, sir?”

“Yes, you are.”

Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.

“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.

Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.

“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.

“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.

The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain. 

“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”

He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her. 

“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"

Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.

“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give. 

“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”

“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”

Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.

“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”

All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.

“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”

“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her. 

“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”

“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.

When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.

“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”

She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”

“Beg. For it.”

“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him. 

“Please what?”

“Please, s-sir.”

The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.

“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again. 

“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”

“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”

“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.

“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…

He knew it, too. Remembered it.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”

She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.

They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.

“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.

Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”

A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.

She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.

He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.

Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.

Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.

He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”

Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.

“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”

Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”

A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”

Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.

“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.

He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.

“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.

“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.

“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.

“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”

Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”

Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.

“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“I, what? Why?” 

Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked. 

Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.

“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.

“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.

Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

A quiet sob escaped her.

"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”

~

Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite

(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.

If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??

[kellysue]

On Interviews and Getting All Up In My Head

If you haven’t yet listened to Sam Fragoso’s interview with Annie Baker, please do. Baker is startlingly honest, and I mean that literally. I was folding clothes, hadn't even chosen the episode—it was just the next thing in my queue after whatever grisly murder podcast I had purposely selected. I was startled enough to stop folding, rewind, and listen again. I don’t want to say too much about it for fear of spoiling the experience for you, but there’s an authenticity there that’s rare. If anyone within the reach of this email knows Fragoso or Baker, please pass along my compliments. It was a hell of a thing.

Interviews are on my mind as I gear up to do press for the new comic. I’m not a shy person, not an introvert in the least (as anyone who’s met me will attest) but I do get up in my head about this stuff. It’s a part of the job that elicits a stew of feelings. The sort of vulnerability required to write, to create anything really, is different from the vulnerability required to talk about the work, about the process, or about yourself in that mix. (My heart is beating a little bit faster all of a sudden—my body reacting to even the thought of it. No kidding: I just got a notification from the Apple Health app.) There’s a certain defensiveness in the experience, no matter how friendly the interlocutor, one I suspect is fueled by the spirit of this internet age. As a part of your brain is searching for an honest answer, another is running through all the ways your response could be deliberately misconstrued, and a third is asking, ‘Will this really help the sales of the book/film/show/etc.?’ Is this worth it?

Baker lays all that bare; she risks being considered “difficult” or annoying Fragoso. (To his great credit, he doesn’t just allow for it; he answers her vulnerability with his own.) She appreciates the thoroughness of his preparation but at the same time wonders aloud at the peculiarity of having something she once said parroted back to her as Truth. She doesn’t deny having said it, and likely it was true once, but memory and identity are fickle things, and the perspective of age alters how the light hits both. Of course, for the purpose of an interview, for the purpose of any conversation, there have to be some things we take as given, but her willingness to highlight the absurdity of the exercise, to own her discomfort, and then to light up when Fragoso is willing to ride along is refreshing, a buoy to me just now.

I love her willingness to push back, too. If you know me, you know I can be a lot, and I don’t exactly have a reputation for conflict-avoidance, but there have been moments/remarks in interviews past that I let slide unchallenged and they gnaw at me still. My hesitancy to hit the press circuit probably has something to do with that as well. Fear of signing up to either answer the well-meaning stranger back or grit my teeth and learn to live with another Lego in my shoe. And for what? In comics, anyway, no one seems to know what press, if any, will move the needle.

Oh goodness. Reading back, I’ve descended into something that looks rather unflatteringly like privileged moping. I am fortunate to make my living in the arts, I know. My challenges are hardly those of a coal miner or a policy-maker, I know, but here we are. Bucking up now, I promise.

I’ll say in closing this bit out, though, that I probably ought to own that my efforts to find new ways to market FML (starting with the acrostic in the last email) are not entirely about the current media landscape. They’re at least in part a reaction to the current me landscape. And I think it’s probably okay to acknowledge the absurdity of being so tired you can’t bring yourself to do things the usual way and then making up new approaches that require three times the work. Nothing if not on brand.

xo

Kelly Sue

[nozunhinged]

my love sea rollercoaster

Okay so I was at the forefront of the love sea haters (don't ask me about mame I don't know anything about that discoure you can read why I didn't like it here if you want) but as weak as I am I kept watching and ep 2 still didn't do it for me but ep 3 turned the boat around so fast that I feel absolutely sea sick (literally!!) right now -- and because the discourse and perspectives on tumblr made me try to keep watching unbiased, I'd like to share my five cents as to why the story suddenly works for me after I've spent the first two eps rolling my eyes so hard I got a migraine.

I think it comes down to three major moments, with their conflict as the turning point

When rak started spitting the most degrading speech going at mut for dragging him out of the house, literally blowing so fucking low the blowjob mut was wishing for in the end was sky high terrain, I went "ok that's it, I'm turning this off" -- rak said word for word "no means no" but mut still kept pulling him I was close to angry tears what a fucked up situation that is, I thought.

But just as mut made rak snap out of it with his unimpressed reaction, so did I.

It was like the first half of the episode flashed right in front of me within the second rak was speechless. He was so on edge from the many calls he had in the first part and before that the diving incident -- he was streched out so thin that of course he would fall back to his default mode which is insulting anyone who dares to get within a 10ft radius of him. And then a guy who even dares to break down his pretentious walls? Better double down! (I'm still mad about raks tirade though, I would've dumped him in the sea right then and there)

But here's the thing, mut isn't fazed at all. Like, at all at all. And that's exactly what rak needs in this moment. Someone to vent his anger at so he can collect himself. We know now that mut had it a million times worse than this and his reaction isn't just because he has the hots for rak, it's literally his character. They both would react the exact same way if it was any other person. The difference? They develop an emotional bond over it and that's how they move forward. CHEFS KISS!

You might think but noz, of course its his character, thats the whole point? Yeah but not to me.

In the last two episodes, it felt like everything that happened between them was excruciatingly forced by the narrative (see my yaoi-post why I despise that) -- that everything between them is only brought out because they met. I know that thai bl (no, lets say the romance genre in general) has a big issue writing and introducing characters in a manner that makes their romance believable, but most of the time I can overlook that because we're not here for deep literary masterpieces, we're here for the smooches and the fumbles. I get it.

But when it feels so forced like it did the last two eps to me, even I just check out. So I already shelved that series in my mind and it's the first time I get so damn humbled that I have to write down a million paragraphs to defend myself lol. I think my longing for watching a believable lovestory reached so deep that it contributed to my current brainrot.

Don't get me wrong -- I attest this shift 100% to fortpeats insanely stellar acting. They make the characters believable and they make me understand why rakmut are prefect for each other although I HATE their dynamic. But that's the beauty of a good story my friends, I get now why their pulling and pushing works for them and I'll gladly watch them do that! Because until now, no aspect of the show managed to do that, neither the narrative progression, nor the editing, writing or pacing. Nothing. It was all just a jumbled, annoying mess.

So what's different now? The story lets fortpeat finally shine! (Accidentally maybe?)

Someone already said that the scenes are stale and slow (cant find the post anymore sorry) due to the fact that nothing is happening other than the two of them talking in the same position behind a different background and I 100000% agree. And the only way this poor choice is saved by is fortpeat. I was hanging on their lips for every single word. Their dynamic was suddenly so clear and palpable to me, I struggled to breathe properly. Rakmut are fucking made for each other and I'm losing my shit over it.

I can't believe they managed to make ALL the flaws of this show just POOF -- go away??? And it just keeps going like that. I could write 10 more pages about the little details of their dialogues that cemented my impression but I'll try wrap this up first.

The two other pivotal moments (to me) were muts reaction to rak telling him about his name. Yes, you read that right. Now that I finally understood how these two are ticking, I absolutely 100% understand where mut was going with this objectively BONKERS suggestion. Rak drops this bombshell of a trauma on him and he offers to do exactly that too??? Well, in muts head this is the only way to make rak understand that the outcome can be different. So of course, this idea would only work on him. Made for each other, I'm telling you. Two pieces of a fucked up puzzle.

Now, that scene.

First, doubling down on how much worse mut had it. (I'm not talking about his house thats a topic for another post) I think this one little story was enough to land the punch, the talk last ep was too long and clunky. I wouldve loved to have a scene where the guy who was fired tells the story to someone and rak overhears it, not understanding a thing and then putting the pieces together when mut starts talking I-- oh I think i wouldnt have survived that, I cried then and there already.

Well yeah I was in tears when they started fucking that was awkward but again raks reaction just made sense. They don't know each other that well and rak only knows one way how to make mut feel good which is riding him to the moon and back. And as a little cherry on top he completely let loose without any restraints.

There's already this amazing post by @hanhonymous which explains perfectly why the pillow talk after works so well as it does, so I'm not gonna say anything more. Just know that I was full on bawling at this point. When rak said "try it" it lost it. How he encourages his island boy who said "someone like me" a million times in the last ten minutes was perfect. Beautiful. Absolutely wonderful. Even his false lead felt perfect for this moment because only this way mut would understand that rak is absolutely serious.

I don't know how the bangkok arc will play out, my hopes are not very high but I will forever have this lovely little episode. And their lovely little pillow talk. And when they confess and love each other for real I will once again cry like a loser because fortpeat are amazing. Please someone get them a high quality production they deserve it so much.

[wulfums]

Since people on Tiktok are already like “ERM WHY DOES YOUR SONA LOOK LIKE A CHILD”, my sonas are short for the most part. Because I am LITERALLY 4′10 IRL. Anyone who has met me IRL can attest to the fact im a shrimpy man. Thats why I give them eye wrinkles and gray hairs.

[demieddie]

Writing asks! 23, 28, & 34?

hi anon, thank you!!!!!!

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

i already answered a verison of this here, but another one would probably be friends to fiancés with buddie. i love love love this trope (@cosycrescent can attest) and i normally hate it for most ships but it works so well for buddie imo. unlike the hockey one from earlier which i don’t see myself writing unless something really strikes, this one is probably very very likely, i just need to find the time

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who?

yes!!! the absolutely wonderful cour (@cosycrescent) reads pretty much everything i write now, including stuff i don’t post, and has for the past year. we actually met bc i wanted a beta writer for my sex shop au (link) and the rest is history!!!

[speaking of stuff i don’t post, i have like four fully completed fics i need to post lmao. i sent them to cour, we edit them, and then my brain goes “oh cool, that fic is done!” and i haven’t posted it yet lmao. i have a dispatcher buck fic that literally just needs to be uploaded]

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

oh god, so much. not often with the scenarios specifically (i have not worked any customer facing position, let alone one in an adult novelty store, nor am i a first responder), but the themes etc are pretty close to home i think. like you could read all of my fics and probably piece together the fabric of my soul. you might not know my favourite band or other things you might know from meeting me irl, but writing, in my experience, is a way to put a piece of you in the world and say “this is who i am and this is what i want” and hope to god it resonates with someone so both of you feel less alone. (on a much less serious note, rip my mermaid tail cactus from ikea that i wrote into the buddie houseplant fic a while back. i’m sorry i overwatered you, i loved you so much)

thank you so much anon, i hope you have a wonderful day :) and happy weewoo day!!

ask me things as a fic writer :)

[archaickobold]

today has been so nice,, im vibing to a playlist of songs that's pastel colors in song form, while talking to my qpp and writing our respective angst together and it's so good, 10/10 day pls id like more

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(I never finished this, but I’m proud of what I did write, so here you go. A Mrs. Maisel/Julia crossover.)

Dear Mrs. Maisel - 

I found myself in your fair city last week for an event, and a dear friend took my husband Paul and I to your very funny comedy act. 

And lo and behold you mentioned my name! I am tickled that my book has been such a hit with your darling fiance. While Lenny Bruce's comedy stylings can be a bit sharp for us, he makes some important points, and he's quite handsome to boot. Your descriptions of him on stage paint a very sweet man. You are a lucky lady. Smart, good-looking men with kind hearts are a rare find. 

If you ever find yourselves in Boston, please look us up. I would be delighted to host you for dinner. 

Best Wishes

Julia Child

Dear Mrs. Child - 

I was so surprised to get your letter I nearly burnt my brisket! I'm so glad you enjoyed my little show. Some people I joke about get very upset (my ex-husband being a prime example, sensitive flower that he is), so I appreciate a good sense of humor. 

Your cookbook is truly a wonder. I've learned tons from it, though Lenny is still hopeless in the kitchen. His kugel is not to be believed, but he ruined your chicken tarragon pot pie for me, the poor boy.

I would literally kill someone to eat at your table, so I will definitely take you up on your offer the next time I find myself in your neck of the woods. 

And you're absolutely right about kind-hearted, smart, handsome men. It makes me happy that you have one of your own.

All my best,

Midge Maisel

It rains in Boston when they get into town, the night before Lenny's gig. He gets out of the rental car first, popping his black umbrella and heading around to the passenger's side to give Midge a hand.

"Are you sure we're both invited?" Lenny asks. "I don't normally get invitations to the suburban homes of nice old ladies."

"The woman drinks gallons of wine and owns a blow torch. I think you're good." She holds onto his arm, sticking close to stay under the umbrella as they head up the front walk. "Just don't get handsy with her when you taste the food."

"I promise I'll wait until the after dinner coffee."

"Still such a gentleman."

"This is different for us," Lenny points out as he rings the doorbell. "We usually have dinner with foul mouthed Jews, not classy gentiles."

"Tits up?" Midge offers jokingly, standing straighter. 

Lenny pecks her lips softly. "Tits fuckin up."

*****

"Your kitchen is just amazing," Midge marvels as she wanders around with a glass of wine. She'd left Lenny behind to chat with Paul and Avis, Judith and Alice. 

"Oh, thank you, dear," Julia beams as she busies herself with preparing dinner. "You don't have to keep me company."

Midge scoffs. "Getting to watch you cook in person and not just on the television? Who are you kidding?"

The chuckle/giggle that emanates from Julia is a delighted one. 

"I love that you're so authentic," Midge says. "You don't have a TV personality. You're just you."

"I'm awful at playing anyone else," Julia tells her, lightly. "My drama teachers in college could attest to that."

"Most people have on-and-off personalities," Midge tells her. "I've met Gordon Ford. That man is a terror in real life." 

"Many men are," Julia laments. “Midge, may I ask you a question?” 

She shrugs and takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Sure.” 

Julia takes a deep breath as she takes something truly miraculous from the oven and sets it down. “I ran into a woman named Betty Freidan not too long before I sent you my letter, and she had some very harsh opinions on what I do.” 

Midge groans, and gets back to her feet, snagging the wine bottle and filling Julia’s glass. “Betty Friedan. If we’re gonna talk about her, you’re gonna need more wine.” 

“You know of her?” 

“She saw my act last year and sent me a letter,” Midge explains. “‘Dear Mrs. Maisel, while I understand that you are quite funny, and quite popular with a certain subset of audiences, I wanted to write to you about your aesthetic choices.’” 

“You memorized it?” Julia asks, surprised. 

“Of course I did, I used it in my act,” Midge smirks. “‘Your choice to conform to societal beauty standards is hurting the plight of the women you seek to empower. To be frank: You look like a mainstream American man’s wet dream.’” 

“Good heavens,” Julia groans. “She really said that to you?” 

“She did,” Midge nods. 

“Did you respond?” Julia asks. 

“I did,” Midge smirks. “I told her to mind her own fucking business and then offered to help her with make-up recommendations.” 

Julia laughs and claps. “Did you get a letter back?” 

“No,” Midge sighs. “I read that book, you know. It made some good points, but it also posits that women can’t be feminine and successful at the same time. Why can’t we be both? Why can’t we enjoy wearing nice things, and putting on skin cream and also enjoy lucrative careers?” 

“I think many women do,” Julia assures her. “Just not the women she talked to.” 

“Men get to do whatever they want,” Midge complains. “No one ever says anything to them. But the second women try to just exist, it’s not good enough. It’s not the right way. But they keep moving the goalposts so there is no right way.” 

Julia sighs heavily. “She told me I was not helping women by keeping them in the kitchen.” 

Midge rolls her eyes. “Because it’s such a crime to want to nourish your family, or yourself and accomplish something new.” 

“Oh, I’m so glad you feel that way,” Julia tells her, looking relieved. 

“I’m Jewish. It’s part of our culture to want to see our families fat, dumb and happy after a big meal,” Midge shrugs. “Her book makes it seem like women are on their own, doing everything themselves with no help. And there are women who are. Lenny’s mother was single, and struggled, balancing raising him with waitressing and performing. But most upper middle class women have family nearby or hired help, or both. They’re not as helpless as Betty makes them out to be. These are college educated women who made choices in their lives.”

Julia considers that. “You have to admit, though. Society doesn’t make it easy to choose much else. It can be rather punishing, really.” 

They both take long sips of their wine, as if to acknowledge the truth of that statement. 

“But doesn’t everyone struggle with finding meaning and purpose?” Midge asks. “I’ve watched Lenny smoke entire packs of cigarettes while pacing and struggling to make sense of his place in the world.” 

Julia nods. “Ever since retiring, my Paul has had a devil of a time finding purpose, and meaning in his life.” 

Midge blows out a breath and swirls her wine distractedly. “I don’t know. Maybe Betty is right about all of it, and we’re all just fucked because society is terrible, and you and I set bad examples.” 

“On the other hand,” Julia ponders. “If her entire thesis revolves around women being able to do what they’d like…shouldn’t we be able to…do what we’d like?” 

Midge lifts her glass in a toast. “That I can drink to.” 

Julia chuckles and taps her glass against the other woman’s and takes a sip.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

The Girl With Stars In Her Eyes | Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Reader (Angel), Sugawara Koushi mentioned, Previous!Reader (Moonlight)

Pairings: Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, swearing

Word count: 4768

Summary: Falling in love was easy. Staying in love was harder. Falling out of love could be devastating or relieving. But with Daichi, everything is easy. Everything.

A/N: Make sure to check out part one of the series here and let me know what you think because oh boy did I hurt people. I’d also like to thank @pies-writes-and-more and @satan-ruler-of-hells for being my Beta-Readers

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Falling in love is always the easiest part; staying in love takes more work, but the end result is what makes it all worth it; falling out of love can be so difficult and devastating all at once - or it could be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

You met Daichi halfway through your first year in college. He, quite literally, fell for you - well, on top of you, but they were semantics. With the wind knocked from your lungs and a vicious aching in the back of your head, you force yourself to stand up, “I am so sorry, are you okay? Do you have a concussion?” He asked fretting over you, reaching a gentle hand around to the back of your head, looking for any signs of injury.

That was an issue, because you didn’t even know the symptoms of a concussion, and now you might have one? If God could have mercy on you, then that would be highly appreciated. “I think I’m fine.” You moan, rubbing the bump that has already formed.

“I can take you to the doctor’s, just in case.” That would be the smart move, but you didn’t know who he was. Hadn’t ever seen him before, certainly hadn’t heard of him, so you were not about to follow him to some unknown location - even if he did radiate such kindness and authority. You think that he’d probably make a good police officer. Maybe he was.

“I’m good. Mostly.” You laugh and hold out an arm to steady yourself. “Besides, how bad can a concussion really be?” He almost looked shocked, so you could only assume that a concussion could be really bad. “Okay, okay, I’ll go to the doctor. Although at this rate, it’ll probably be because my lungs hurt.” You rub your chest, trying to soothe the pain in your lungs.

“I guess you could say,” he flashed a winning smile and chuckled, “I really took your breath away.” You laugh, ignoring your pain.

“Oh wow- that was… sad?” He chuckles again - how could a chuckle sound so sweet, like his voice was dipped in honey. “But I guess you did.” Of course, you meant it literally, but he clearly thought you were flirting back with him, because he smirked.

“And I fell for you harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone,” his smirk grew wide when heat rose to your cheeks.

“I can attest to that, I mean, how are you so heavy?” You tease, momentarily forgetting the amount of pain you were actually in.

“I’m not heavy,” he pouts, though it’s obvious that he would definitely be heavy compared to you, “I just used to play volleyball in high school.” He shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Daichi leaves little room to escape in your conversation - not that you’re complaining, he’s definitely attractive and charming - the way he talked about volleyball with such a passion in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. And you knew the feeling, you loved watching it with your dad so many years ago - one of the few happy memories you have with him. For a while you thought that it would bring a bitter taste into your mouth to hear about it again, but it didn’t. You were glad.

----

Falling in love with Daichi was the easiest part. Almost too easy.

He wore his heart on his sleeve, even when you told him how dangerous that really was; there didn’t seem to be anything he couldn’t do. That wasn’t exactly true, even though he had won your heart, you refused to date a man you barely knew. Especially not one so especially charming as Daichi.

Still he’d always ask at the end of every month, “I already fell for you, if you fall too, I’ll be sure to catch you,” with the laziest wink. Like he knew exactly what was going on in your heart.

And yet the closer you got to Daichi, the further away he seemed. He had friends back home, an hour away, and, at first, he’d call them once a day. Then it slipped into every few days. Then once a week. There’s a tenderness in his voice that you can’t quite place. Something that made you question him ever so slowly. But - at this point - you were just his friend. Who were you to question how he talked to his friends?

One day, you asked if he had any exes, a tension filled the air and he looked away from you out of the window, “I guess one girl,” he shrugged, but you knew there was more than what he was telling you. You could feel it, “not much to say about her, but the first thing I noticed about her was how she reminded me of the moon. She reflects the warmth you give to her, but all in all, nothing too special.” Empty. That was how he spoke of this girl. Like there weren’t any real emotions with how he felt about her. There’s something in his eyes that changed and he frowned. “She made friends a little too easily, if you know what I mean.” Your stomach dropped at the suggestion, she hadn’t cheated on him, had she? “But you,” he turned around, smiling softly, “it’s like you have stars in your eyes.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him - as if you hadn’t heard that a thousand times already. It was true. People called you hopeful, filled with life and joy. You hated it. So much.

Like they were taunting you somehow.

You could never seem to explain it, the distaste you had for something so seemingly sweet.

Maybe he knew how you felt when your face twisted, because he reached out and grabbed your hand so softly, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. There was that tenderness again.

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

----

After six months of non-stop pursuing you, Daichi asks to take you on a date, and you finally agree, because you really love him so much.

And Daichi doesn’t disappoint.

He whisks you off around the city to each and every little location you held near and dear to your heart, paying for everything without any hesitation, because, “an angel like you should never have to pay for a thing.” You can’t help but hesitate.

“You must have been quite the player,” you tease, hand over your heart, feigning protection, “am I going to need to prepare myself for a heartbreak?” Something in his eyes twist - maybe guilt or shame - but you don’t have a chance to really see what it means before he squeezes them shut and smiles brightly.

“The only thing I play is volleyball.” And with that, all your worries are silenced. You find something so comforting about his company on late nights when you’re both completing so much work that it’s overwhelming. He always knows exactly the right way to relieve your stress.

Your friend's remarks about the marks that littered your body meant nothing to you, not when you found yourself in his arms later that evening, dancing under the pale moonlight. His hands running through your hair, over your body, lips on yours with such a passion and love that you’re afraid you might melt.

Daichi truly is perfect in every single way. Maybe he doesn’t see it, there’s always those underlying insecurities in everything that he does, especially when he asks whether you trust him.

You try to ask him about why he’s so worried about that, and he reminds you about the girl of the moon - the one who made friends just a little too easily. You listen as he talks about her, how she befriended his best friend just a little too quickly, how she was ignorant to what he could see, the way she’d confide in the other boy with such ease. He talked about how he’d always known their future wouldn’t be together. Not now, at least. Still, even with all the ways he described what she’d done, the way she treated him (because you don’t even need to hear the details to know that this girl had cheated on him), he still speaks about her with such a tenderness in his eyes.

So you ask more. “What was she like before?” His face twists, lost in the thought, seeking the words to describe her.

“She was just a normal girl.” He shrugged before ending the conversation quickly.

You couldn’t help but think there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you weren’t going to push him because everybody has their secrets. Even you have your own.

----

From that day forward, you could only look at the moon with a bitterness in your mouth; how silly is it to think you can despise somebody you’d never met before. Even with that bitterness, you keep seeking out the sweetness, because a girl who reminds you of the moon surely can’t be all that bad.

Yet Daichi refuses to give you more than he already had. There was something off in the way he acted, but each backtrack was covered expertly with his whispers of sweet nothings and, before you know it, he’s whisking you off your feet all over again.

Some nights you wonder whether he still speaks to the girl of the moon; with the way he spoke about her, you couldn’t assume so. If he could still talk about her so tenderly, then there had to be more about her. You wanted to know about her life beyond what Daichi had told you. Although it didn’t seem like it would do any good, so you didn’t bother trying to look for her. You walked along a path beside him, leaving stones unturned.

Other days, Daichi would ask about your childhood. And you’d tell him the truth because there was no point in trying to avoid it, “my parents would cheat on each other for revenge.” You put it plain and simple, venom soaked words seemed to be never-ending, “you’d think that at some point they’d realise that I could still hear them fight, but they didn’t.” Thinking about it hurts, but he deserves to know, because you love him. “I spent a long time watching my mom become a husk of herself. I fucking hate people who cheat. There isn't even any point to it.”

Your shaking, you didn’t realise it until just now, but the anger was bubbling over so much that you physically couldn’t contain it. Tears in your eyes burn so much and now you can’t even see clearly.

This feeling of weakness used to fill you so much, and you hated how it had been the one thing to stick around - that and the twisted idea you had stars in your eyes. You felt about ready to break down until Daichi rested his hand on your back, leaning his head down onto your shoulder; you couldn’t see the look on his face, but you were sure it was one of pity.

----

It didn’t take much longer after that before more of your things were at Daichi’s dorm rather than at your own. That was only because you had a roommate, and he didn’t, so it made more sense for you to be there.

Little pieces of you were integrated around, like his place was made for you. Your favourite candles were lit around - the smell of black cherry filled the air and made it feel like home. You were far too used to leaving textbooks and notes at his that when you were at yours, you had no choice but to do nothing all day.

There are still so many things you learn about Daichi every day; the one that surprises you the most is his brief era in watching anime. How he could now name all the characters on a random show a friend had made him watch, and that he was still watching Attack on Titan because he just wants to know what happens, he doesn’t really like it.

You were so close to Daichi, so much that you hated the few times he went to visit friends and family back home - he said that you should wait to meet his family and friends, and while you find it strange, he assures you that he’s told them all about you.

When he visits for his moms birthday, you consider sneaking with him, but decide against it. Because you love Daichi, and you will respect him. You’ll meet his family when he’s ready. That’s what you told yourself.

That’s what you had to keep telling yourself.

That day he came back with a new shirt - said his friend had insisted that he take it because he’d bought it specifically for him. He told you, “but it would look so much better on you.” And you can’t help the rush of excitement as he basically strips you right there. His hands and mouth are on you. Your mind is filled with only thoughts of him.

----

Of course nice things can never last. For all the good things, there are an equal amount of bad things. You just didn’t think one would come so soon.

You’re curled up by his side, trailing your hands over his chest. Over the little marks that you had left. Because Daichi was yours, yours and nobody else’s. For a second, you’re ready to sleep right here; you let out a soft sigh as a knock echoed throughout the dorm.

Standing up and sauntering over, you watch him as he starts to slowly get clothes on. It’s a shame, really, because he is absolutely gorgeous. Your hand hovers over the handle a minute, debating whether or not to actually open the door. But you are an angel, after all, so you open it.

In front of you stands a woman, a smile so wide and reflective that it makes you want to smile, too. She looks maybe a little older than her age, slightly tired. You note the way she’s breathing just a little too quickly. Like she’s nervous. But what exactly did she have to be nervous for? Had she gotten the wrong dorm? That seemed like the only reasonable answer. Her eyes flutter open and she opens her mouth to speak, but something makes her stop. Inside her eyes, you watch the light die and shatter.

Her eyes trail over you, taking in every little detail. It’s like she’s faced the ultimate betrayal and you aren’t sure why. She was the one who’d come to Daichi’s dorm, did she not know that the two of you were dating? For a second - a second you regret immediately - you think that Daichi might have cheated on you. The thought makes your blood boil but you brush it off, because Daichi isn’t like that. Daichi would never do anything like that.

But why does she look so destroyed?

Like her entire world was crumbling around her?

She raised a shaking hand up to her mouth - you know Daichi would never cheat, so why is your heart racing so fast? Why do you recognise the look inside of this girl's eyes?

Your grip on the door tightens as she squeezes her eyes shut - like she just can’t believe what she’s seen. But what has she seen? Sure, she’d seen you, but that was a completely normal sight around campus. Maybe she just didn’t know. Maybe she came here to confess her undying love for him? That wouldn’t have surprised you.

She meets your eyes. You can see the tears brimming but refusing to fall. Why? So many questions and not enough answers. You glance back into the dorm, taking in Daichi now wearing pants. He calls out, “who is it, angel?”

In the corner of your eye, you watch her lift her other hand to her heart before pulling it away slightly, glancing down. What was she expecting to see?

You keep your eyes focused on Daichi’s face as he stands behind you in the door frame, a hand snaking around your waist before he turns to look at the girl. Something happens. Something that you couldn’t understand. Not until his face falls entirely too quickly and something in his eyes breaks. You look back at the girl as she shakes, the saddest little smile upturning her lips, “surprise…” her attempt at a sing-song tone shatters your heart.

He calls out her name, speaking far too quickly, “sh-shit, okay. Look. I can- I can explain. Okay? Just… come inside.” He’s stuttering and fumbling as he grabs onto her wrist. A hope fills her eyes and she allows herself to be pulled inside.

----

You didn't need to be a genius to put the pieces together. If this had been a story, they were the main characters. You sit on the couch while Daichi pours some water into a mug for her. There’s something in this story that you can’t work out, and that’s where you come into play. The girl so obviously wants to do anything but be sat here, so what did Daichi need to explain to her?

“How’re the boys?” He asks, passing her the mug, you quirk a brow. He barely even glances at you as he sits down, the space between you kept growing wider. She just nods slowly, like she’s in a daze. “What about Suga? Or even the first years, do they still come-”

“Just get it over with, Daichi.” Her voice was void of any emotion as she looked up at him.

She hadn’t even cried. If she was really hurt, wouldn’t she be crying? Everything about her seemed so vacant, like she was shrouded in complete darkness.

“Right.” He clears his throat, clasping his hands together as he searches for the right words. Silence with Daichi had always been comfortable before, but this had such a tension in it that it was hard to breathe. “I just- I was alone. You left me alone… I thought you hated me. I-I… I made a mistake,” he glances at you and your heart breaks all over again. Was that all you were to him? “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.” He laughs nervously. “Y-You always had Suga. I just needed someone.” The girls grip tightens on the mug, knuckles turning white.

As you listen to him explain, you finally understand what part you play and it makes you sick. Because Daichi hadn’t just cheated on you - worse than that - he had used you to cheat on someone else. You wanted to be sick. Guilt and shame radiated off of you and you just knew she could see that.

At some point during his rambling, she looks at you again. There’s a small spark in her eyes as she speaks, “nice shirt.” You look down, of course it was nice, it was Daichi’s. But now it just makes you want to tear it apart.

“Thank you,” you mutter, “it’s Daichi’s.”

“I know.” There’s a worrying confidence in her voice as she turns to glare at him. “I bought it.”

Another twisting in your stomach and you watch him sink in on himself. How hasn’t he apologised already? He is destroying two worlds at once and he isn’t even sorry; sure, he’s coming up with excuses, but he’s just trying to defend himself.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I-I… I thought maybe if we kept trying, then maybe we could-” she cuts him off, placing the mug onto the coffee table. She hadn’t even drank it, just stared at her own reflection like it was a curse and you knew exactly what was happening in her mind. Why wasn’t I enough? She cringes at the sight of your textbooks, your candles, everything.

“I think what you mean,” she sits up straighter and faces him directly, “is that you didn’t mean for me to find out.” You watch Daichi open his mouth and you just know it’s true. What was his plan when he dared to speak to you? To pursue you? He knew he had a girlfriend and he hunted you anyway. She lets out a breath - almost sounding more like a laugh - as she claps her hands together, “well, when you told me to go out and live my life, I never thought this is what it would be like.” She seems to know the right words to say to hurt him. How long had they been together?

Something about Daichi changed, like his defences shot up, “it isn't like you ever needed me, you always had Suga clinging to your side. You never even trusted me anyway.” You couldn’t figure out what he was playing at, why was he suddenly trying to attack her? It didn’t work. Nothing about her demeanour changed. If anything, she just looked angrier. How is she ever going to be able to trust you now? You want to say.

She has a sly way of attacking, very subtle and something to admire, especially as her even tone states, “maybe that’s true, but if you really think that, then you never knew me at all.” Guilt floods his eyes and you know that it has worked; those few words were enough to make this man with an aura of authority shrink like a child.

“I spent a lot of time thinking,” she sighs. You watch as she rubs slow circles on her sides - so she really is anxious? How close is she to breaking down? If it were you, you would have been long gone by now, “that when you slowly stopped calling-” you shrink into yourself, because you were the reason he’d slowly stopped calling “-that you were really busy; you were out here doing what I should have. You were living your life.” She glanced at you and you instinctively tug the hem of the shirt. Her eyes don’t linger, not long enough to read your mind. “And I can see I was right.” Her tone was so indifferent that it was somehow more threatening.

She gets up to leave and you’re almost thankful until his hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, desperation deep set in his voice, “we can still try, I- I want you to still love me. And I will love you, because I do love you.” It breaks your heart. You don’t want to hear it. You look at her and know she feels exactly the same way.

This was the time you’d expected her to break, but she doesn’t - God, this girl is filled with surprises - she smiles sweetly down at him, carefully untangling his fingers from around her wrist. “I never said I didn’t love you, but I don’t think I like you anymore, Daichi.” And with that, she broke him.

She slips out of the room, leaving you to soak in the tension.

----

“Are you going to leave me now, too?” Daichi cries out as you start getting dressed, rummaging around his dorm for the other shoe. You can’t just leave her alone. It’s your fault, you should have seen the signs all along. “Come on, angel, don’t be like this.” He reached out and put a hand on your shoulder.

It felt like he’d burnt you, “don’t you touch me.” You hissed, shoving him off and running towards the door the moment your shoe was on. He didn’t chase after you - of course he didn’t, he hadn’t even chased after her - why would you be special? That was the thing. You weren’t. Not to Daichi, at least. You were just something he could use. It was a horrible feeling, to fall out of love so quickly and suddenly. Like the wind had been knocked from your lungs and a tear in your heart.

You ran across the campus, searching wildly for the girl. You could only assume she was just as strong as you saw her a moment ago; it didn’t take long to find her, her steps were slow, like she was hoping he’d come back to her. That he’d love her and whisk her away. That he’d say this was some sort of sick joke.

But it wasn’t.

You reached out and tapped her shoulder, closing your eyes as you talked, “I am so sorry. I- I never would have done anything like that if I knew,” your heart hurts because you had been a part of this girl's destruction. “I didn’t know. And I-” you slowly open your eyes. Soft tears are falling from her eyes, and yet she holds her composure, “you really loved him, didn’t you?” Your voice is so soft that you’re worried she hasn't heard it.

But she did, telling someone that she’d call them back before hanging up. She looked around hopelessly before spotting a bench and beckoning you to follow, which you do - she seems so wise beyond her years, like she never really had the chance to be young.

Something about her reminds you of the girl Daichi told you about - the girl of the moon - how she still seems bright even in the darkness. Because this had to have been her darknest point.

“I do-” she hesitates, and you know that she still does, no matter what she says next, “- I did. Did he ever tell you how we met?” You shake your head, but it’s only a half truth. You had only heard the few things that he had said, and those words didn’t seem like much of a truth now. Because this girl doesn’t seem like she could hurt anyone; maybe only herself.

You listen intently as she tells you the story of how they met. How they’d been put in the same class, next to each other. How she was jealous of the window and how he blocked it; how he never really stopped blocking the window (that you could attest to, because he’d done the same thing). She tells you about Suga - his best friend - and how she just never wanted to hurt Daichi. She told you that she’d stayed back for her siblings, and that she didn’t really know what to do. Her confusion and sadness when he stopped calling. How that became normal.

Then she talks about him more. Her first impressions; how he had an unwillingness to give up (you knew that much) and an aura of authority and you agree, because who wouldn’t. She talks about this side of him with such a tenderness and you just know she loves him. She tells you that he could bring the first years to their knees, and you can’t help but laugh.

There’s so much more you want to talk to her about, but she just grabs your hand and sighs. “I- I don’t blame you.” It must be bitter to admit, but it eases the tension in your heart. “Daichi made his choice, and if that choice was you, then I can see why.” You want to hold her. To tell her how sorry you are. But the words refuse to leave your lips. Instead, you squeeze her hand and she smiles softly before standing up, wishing you a good life.

Would you ever have a good life after this?

----

It takes you an hour to pack up your things from Daichi’s dorm - with the help of your friends. A week to cry out any feelings you had for him. A month until Daichi finally understands you aren’t coming back to him. A year until you finish college and move in with a friend.

Sometimes the thought of Daichi still lingers, but then you look at the moon, and any thoughts are washed away.

You think kindly back on the girl wise beyond her years. Some days you wish you’d gotten to be her friend, but then you figure she wouldn’t want to be.

Falling in love is the easy part - but that’s why you hesitate when falling in love with the next boy - Matsukawa Issei. 

Staying in love with him is the hard part, but you learn how to work together, and things become just a little easier. He doesn’t make things hard, doesn’t beat around the bush. And (the girl would be happy about this) he doesn’t block the windows. He pulls you close so you can stand together. 

Falling out of love isn’t something you need to worry about. Not when he looks at you with stars in his eyes.

----

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[warinthetangledstars]

Howzer x fem reader

Also on A03 under the same username.

If you like this... I may be willing to take requests if you send something that clicks with me. I do plan on doing some Imagines with other clones. *cough*rex*cough. And even some General Grievous.

Stay Part 1

This imagine will probably be 2 or 3 parts. Eventually smut.

Setup for imagine: You are Cham Syndulla's sister, so close your eyes and imagine your beautiful self as a Twi'lek lady.

The Clone Wars recently ended and your family is gathered for dinner. This takes place before the events in TBB, so the Empire's plans for Ryloth are not yet known.

____________________________________________

"This is nice, eating dinner without talking about battle strategies," your comment was the first thing to break the silence since everyone had started eating.

With full mouths, the others at the table either hummed in agreement or nodded their heads silently; until Cham, sitting at one end of the table, finally swallowed down his food, "Most importantly, we can finally work towards healing - Ryloth and ourselves. This war has taken so much from us; we must come together as a family, appreciate what we still have, and move forward."

To emphasize his point, he stretched out his arms and took a hand of both his wife and daughter, who were sitting to either side of him, giving them both an appreciative glance. Your niece sitting next to you, bowed her head slightly, the implications of his words hitting a still-sensitive part of her. Without hesitation, you placed a hand on the back of her shoulder, a silent offering of support.

You didn't have to be force-sensitive like the Jedi to feel the sadness hidden behind the words that were, on the surface, positive and inspiring. Your eyes travelled from Hera, to your brother, and to your sister-in-law as you admired and appreciated their strength. If it hadn't been for them, you would have lost faith and hope a long time ago.

Finally, your eyes landed on Captain Howzer, who sat directly across from you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment before he bowed his head sharply, seeming to take a sudden, intense interest in the food on his plate, poking at it with the utensil in his hand. Due to spending so much time with him during the war, you knew that, by bowing his head, he was trying not to impose on the intimate family moment.  It seemed no matter how much time he spent with you and your family, no matter how much happiness you shared or pain you suffered through together, he still felt unworthy of witnessing such tender familial moments because, well, he wasn't part of the family - he was an outsider.

Technically, it was true, he was not part of your family; he wasn't even Twi'lek, after all. He was a human, a clone of a human - some thought it necessary to make that distinction, though you couldn't see why. And, yes, he had started off as an outsider, a representative of the Republic Army and the undesirable, but necessary, military occupation that made its way to Ryloth due to the war; however, that was no longer the case. Captain Howzer had been loyal to your family and played a vital role in maintaining Ryloth's liberation from the Separatists. Most of all, he had gained the upmost respect from your brother.

So, whether he felt worthy or not, there was an unspoken acknowledgement in the family that Howzer was a part of it now, welcomed with open arms. And you, feeling the way you did towards him, always felt the urge to actively include him when appropriate.

With your eyes still on Howzer, you added to your brother's statement, "Don't forget about what we have gained."

Your brother gave you a skeptical glance, no doubt wondering how anything could be gained from a devastating war.

"You are right," Eleni spoke up as she looked over at Howzer, understanding the reference of your words as if she had been thinking it herself, "Ryloth has received many blessings from unexpected places. Your friendship, Howzer, is one of them."

Cham's skepticism faded into understanding, "Agreed."

Howzer, no longer hiding his face, looked at Cham and Eleni and offered them a wide grin as he spoke generic words of thanks. He did appreciate the kind words, but honestly, they only made him feel more...conflicted.

Howzer was literally created to serve the Republic and he only came to Ryloth because of his given order: Aid Ryloth in their continued liberation from the Separatists; he did not come here for friends or family. And he took it very seriously in the beginning.  But as the war dragged on and he experienced wins and losses with your family, the more he came to care for your family in a way he had never cared for anyone before, outside of his brothers of course.

So, regardless of what brought him to Ryloth, he now found himself here, eating dinner with the Syndulla family with no meaningful purpose other than to spend time in their company.  Yes, he had certainly gotten too close and now, for the first time in his life, he felt anguish for the position he was in.  Tomorrow, he would leave Ryloth.  The war was over, so the military occupation was no longer needed. Which, of course he agreed, was a good thing for the people of Ryloth, but he also found himself yearning to stay.  To stay here with you.

He had fallen for you, hard, and it was absolutely the last thing he needed. From the very first time he saw you, he was stunned by your beauty, unabated, even through the visor of his helmet. And then, from all of the time spent together in close quarters, his appreciation of your beauty flourished into something much more.  Proposing plans of attack that turned into friendly games of competition to see who could destroy the most droids.  Debating best lines of defense that turned into intimate conversations to help each other work through the painful losses.  Harmless jokes that turned into flirtatious banter.  He was oblivious to the subtle changes over time and realized it only when it was too late.

He should have never allowed himself to become so completely enamored with you. You were a beautiful Twi'lek woman, from an important family, meant to bring Ryloth back to its former glory, marry someone worthy of you, and have a family just as Cham did. 

He knew he wasn't worthy of you.  He was a clone trooper. He held the title of captain, sure, but still a clone; he would never be anything more than that. And he was leaving, off to wherever the Empire ordered him to go, to carry out whatever task the Empire ordered him to complete.

So, no matter how he felt towards you, there was so much that attested to the fact that you and him were never meant to be. He had to keep trying to break free of the feelings for you that he recklessly allowed to flourish, unchecked. He had to let you go.

Still, his actions betrayed his reasoning, as his dark, honey-gold eyes moved from Cham and Eleni, to meet yours. 

A smile broke across your serious face at the sight of Howzer's returned gaze until you noticed the smile that lifted his cheeks falter slightly, your own smile retreating in response.  You'd seen this happen before, all of those times when Howzer tried to give some semblance of happiness while his true feelings were anything but.  You titled your head slightly, with one eyebrow raised in question, as you studied him.  He was hiding something.

Howzer's eyes widened slightly, realizing you weren't fooled by his counterfeit smile.  What had given him away?  Had he slipped somehow?

His minute reaction confirmed your intuition, causing you to furrow your brows and mouth the words, 'What's wrong?'

Howzer didn't have a chance to offer any type of silent response before Cham spoke again, "In regards to moving forward, Sister, you can finally think about starting a family of your own."

You slowly turned to Cham, hesitantly breaking your gaze with Howzer, but noticed in your peripherals that his eyes did not leave you, "This is true."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Cham questioned as he stabbed some food onto his utensil.

Do you have anyone in mind? You could imagine your brother was expecting you to name one of the Twi'lek warriors that played a vital role during the war. Of course, before the war, you would have agreed with that notion, as you did spend a lot of time in your childhood whiling away the hours by daydreaming about a strong, Twi'lek warrior coming into your life and the resulting family that would come from that fateful meeting; a family that reflected very much the family your brother had been blessed with.

But that was before you met a tan-skinned soldier from Kamino.

When he first arrived on Ryloth, he was just one of thousands, concealed behind a set of form-fitting plastoid plates and black body glove, made unique only by the teal markings on his armor and teal pauldron that adorned his right shoulder. Meeting him did nothing to alleviate any of your apprehension of working with a clone army. The combination of his visor acting as a solid, black mirror and his voice filtering through the helmet, giving it almost a mechanical sound, made it impossible for you to really connect with man under the armor. It was almost like speaking to a soulless droid.

It wasn't until you took a more active role in the war, when you finally met the man beneath the armor.  After a particularly intense battle, that lasted far too long, both of you sat on the ground with your backs leaned against a boulder you had taken position behind during the fight, breathing heavily.  You weren't looking at him when you heard the movement of his helmet followed by an unfiltered sigh of relief.  Curiously and cautiously, you turned to look at him and you felt your eyes widen in surprise.  All of your speculating of what hid under the helmet did not compare to the strong, angled profile of the man that sat beside you. And you were so overwhelmed by it that you had to turn away from him.

After that battle was the first time the two of you really talked to each other and made some sort of connection beyond "Twi'lek" and "Clone Trooper".  He was actually a person to you from that point on and it didn't take long for that connection to cultivate into a friendship and then blossom into something more.  Or, at least on your end, you supposed. You weren't exactly sure how he felt about you, because the signals he gave you were a bit conflicting - always sliding on a spectrum of 'cautious flirting' and 'cordial indifference', but you knew your feelings for him had, at some point, crossed into a whole new, serious threshold.

You; however, had never revealed your feelings for Howzer to anyone and was not privy to the idea of doing so in the moment. Still, you couldn't help but flick your eyes towards Howzer for just a second as you planned your response.

If Howzer hadn't been looking at you so intently, holding onto his breath as he waited for your answer, he would have missed that split-second glance you gave him.  A glance that made his stomach twist on itself as his feelings of conflict washed over him again.  You had looked at him as you considered Cham's question.  Once again there was a small act of confirmation that you felt something for him, that you reciprocated the feelings he had for you, but only to be forced to remind himself that your feelings for him, no matter what they were, didn't change the fact that pursuing a life with you was just not a possibility.

You didn't see Howzer struggle to keep his straight posture as discontent weighed down on his shoulders.

"I may need more time to think on it."

Your brother nodded at your answer, giving himself time to chew through his food, "Understandable, but if you want any advice I may know of some good candidates."

Candidates? The word made you roll your eyes, "I love you, Brother, but I will not be taking advice from you on this subject."

He huffed a laugh and raised his utensil in quick surrender, "Okay, okay, but maybe Eleni can help you."

No longer interested in carrying out this conversation in front of Howzer, you waved your hand gently in front of you, "I don't need help. I will handle it," you pointedly looked at your sister-in-law to add, "No offense."

Eleni let out a soft, reassuring laugh, "No offense taken. I have every faith you will find someone perfect for you."

You looked away awkwardly; it took everything for you not to look at the man that sat beside her.

Hardly skipping a beat, Eleni turned to Howzer, "What about you?"

Though you did not look to see, you could tell, by his voice and the movement in his chair, that he turned the top half of his body towards her, "I'm sorry, ma'am, what about me?"

"Have you thought about starting a family?"

"Oh, I do-- I've nev--," the way he stuttered made it sound like his brain was going to short circuit before he could decide on a satisfying answer, "the Repub - I mean - the Empire will keep me on as Captain."

Everyone waited, you unable to resist peeking at Howzer, for him to say something else, but his silence confirmed that he felt the question had been adequately answered.

"But now that the war is over, things will be so much more calm and you would surely have the time to focus on a family, even if you do stay on as Captain," Eleni reasoned.

He shifted in his seat, "I guess so.  I've never really thought about it," though his answer seemed frail, like it wasn't entirely true.

"Well, I'm sure you'd have no problem finding someone if you wanted to.  Cham told me how popular you were with the ladies here on Ryloth."

Cham shot a glance at Eleni, not angry, but not happy, "Eleni..."

A beeping interrupted Cham, a beeping that came from Howzer's wristlink.  You couldn't help but smile inwardly at the audible sigh of relief that escaped his lips as he stood up, "Excuse me," his voice serious.

As he walked away, you noticed that your body had tensed from the sound of his voice and, looking around, saw that you weren't the only one to do so.  The war was over, but hearing Captain Howzer's serious military voice brought you all back to the battle field. 

He was hardly gone for a minute before he returned to the table, choosing to stand next to his seat instead of sitting back down.

"Is everything fine?" Cham asked calmly, but seriously, as he stared up at Howzer.

Howzer gave a single nod, "Yes, sir.  All is well, but I must check in with the evening patrol," he bent down to pick up his helmet from the floor and placed it snuggly under his left arm.

Everyone, including you, relaxed, but you couldn't help but be surprised by his answer, Why were they still doing patrols?

As he stood back at his full height, his eyes scanned everyone at at table, "Thank you for inviting me to dinner," his eyes landed on Eleni, "the food was delicious."

You quickly tossed aside your concern about the mysterious patrols, "Hey now," your firm voice drew Howzer back to you, "why are you telling her that?  I'm the one that cooked dinner."

His head shook slightly, dismissing you entirely as he said your name in a playful manner, "I know you didn't cook it."

You cocked your head back, "Is that so?" Your voice was slightly challenging, "And what exactly makes you say that?"

Howzer had started to turn to walk away from the table, but stopped when you posed your question, "Well, it's just that," his right hand moved up to rub at the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding you as he carefully considered a response he really wasn't prepared to give.

Suddenly, Hera spoke up, taking the bait, "Because the food is edible.  You're a terrible cook."

You released a sharp gasp, feigning offense at her words, but still looking at Howzer as he slightly lifted his right hand up into the air in surrender, "Whoa, that's not what I was going to say," he said, only to wink at Hera, causing her to giggle.

Cham and Eleni both failed to stifle their small laughs at what had been said.  You rolled your eyes, letting them have the moment to laugh at your expense.  There was no way for you to argue Hera's point; you were horrible at cooking.

It wasn't until Howzer once again announced his departure and exited the room, did your concerns about him and the patrols come back to the forefront of your mind.  So, after just enough time to decide on your next course of action, you quickly excused yourself from the table and made you way after him. 

[nightswithkookmin]

still same anon. this was another one of my asks from months ago. basically it was a comment I made about jikook's intimacy. it was from this interview: https://youtu.be/T--BOS8oTec the moment I'm talking about happens from 3:00 minute timestamp onwards. i was saying how despite this moment being "skinship" or whatever, it kinda hit different? there's also intimacy there. bc you see how jimin doesn't have to say anything and jungkook immediately understands what to do and starts massaging his neck. jimin literally threw a glance at him, tilted his neck a lil and jungkook didn't need a second more to know what to do. I wanted to talk to you about it since I know that you're not big on skinship defining jikook's relationship, but I think there ARE jikook skinship moments worth noting and this is one of them imo.

Oh ok. Thanks.

SKINSHIP IN CONTEXT

I think skinship by it's very definition is an intimate act depending on the level of familiarity between the parties involved in the act.

From my understanding of skinship, it's basically interactions that would otherwise be viewed as sexual outside of their culture but viewed as acceptable platonic behavior between the same sex or even the opposite sex.

The objective of skinship is to be intimate with another person on a level that's only next to romance.

I remember my sister telling me how shook she was when she found out for the first time, around 2011 when she first moved to Seoul, how she couldn't even keep her pants on at a 'Jimjirban' because all the gals in there were expected to walk around butt naked in the spa. No towels, no pants, no robes butt nakedttt.

'Mehn, this doesn't happen where I'm coming from' she said to her companion.

A. I'm black.

B. I'm not flat.

C. I'm wearing my pants.

Her very naked friend, a native SK, whom she says she'd only met for like a week, then grabbed her underwear and pulled it down her thighs exposing her deforested vagina to the winds and a dozen other curious gazes. All females.

'For a second, I thought I had been tricked into an orgy of a sort. I was very naked without my consent. Wind whistling through my shy butt cracks. Watching very naked females of varying ages stare on with pride and smiles on their faces as if I had just saved a village or something and when I jiggled when I walked I could hear them gasp, amazed- Goldy, how is this not gay?'

'You think skinship between their men is weird, wait till you see their women. Wait till a very attractive Korean girl is breathing down your neck and caressing your nape and complementing your skin while showing you pictures of her boyfriend on her phone.'

She says it took her a while to get used to the skinship between women in SK and seeing the men interact in a certain way messed with her brains for a while. She said she felt her intelligence was being played with most of the time.

I guess if you want to look at Jikook's skinship as intimate then there's nothing wrong it.

Skinship is intimate at the very least.

But skinship, for all intent and purposes, is platonic and nonsexual in nature. And maybe this is a fatal flaw on my part. Or maybe thanks to my sister, I'm desensitized to this form of interaction but I have a hard time seeing Jikook's intimacy as platonic or even seeing most of their skinship as romantic- in anyway. It will make sense in a bit, hold on.

I have a hard time equating skinship with romantic intimacy. But that's just me.

I wasn't able to click on the link you sent but I'm guessing this is the moment you are talking about?

I wouldn't call this skinship. I mean it is but I wouldn't call it that. Skinship is meant to show how close two people are. How familiar they are with eachother.

This doesn't show how close Jikook are. But It shows how caring and affectionate JK is as human being, as a dongsaeng, and as a boyfriend.

I'd rather we celebrate that. JK doesn't get highlighted enough. He caters to the people he cares about. He is an attentive person.

Hate to be a grinch but I can pull up a couple of times JK has done that very gesture with Jin or Tae or Hobi. Remember Soop? Remember when Jin complained of feeling cold and JK went up to him immediately and 'warmed' him up?

Of course, Jimin kept stealing glances at him like he could throw a shoe at the back of his head if he could but that's beside the point.

The man is an empath. He's said several times he feels a lot of pain watching his hyungs go through it. Fact is, Jk cares about people. He's kind, loving and he shows this aspect of him through gestures like these.

He does it for Jimin. He does it for all the members because as he's said, they are all a family.

It's stressful hearing people claim he doesn't give a fuck about Jimin, that he doesn't care about JM because he shows affections for others besides JM.

At some point we would have to make a distinction between what acts flows from their unique personalities because of who they are at their core and what act flows from them being a couple.

Most people who see Jimin as a natural nurturer and what not are able to separate this identity from his ship moments but JK isn't accorded the same privilege. It is why most people are quick to lash out at him when he interacts with others in the same way he interacts with Jimin.

When JM acts nurturing towards V or RM or Suga he is seen a good, kind person.

When JK does something affectionate it's seen as a beautiful Jikook moment or Taekook moment or Jinkook moment and is soon swept under the carpet, soon forgotten and never tied to the personality of JK- perhaps because most of these shippers don't care to know who JK is as a person and as a human.

When Jimin does something affectionate its 'awww Jimin is such an amazing person' even if that act is merely performative sometimes.

I try not to engage in conversations that perpetuate this horrifying discrimination against either of Jikook. They are both individuals.

There are a lot of Asks sitting in my box highlighting the various ways JM is awesome and kind and amazing as s boyfriend to JK and not a single out of 500 plus posts talking about how empathetic JK really is. How thoughtful he is to even pack motion sickness drugs to go on trips even though he doesn't get motion illness and JM is the one that often complains about motion sickness on trips.

The heteronormative lens, on opposite ends of the spectrum in the shipping community, which dictates we perceive on Jikook as either feminine or masculine is a telltale sign of the misogyny and misandry prevalent within this fandom.

The fandom's heteronormative lens filters Jimin as the wildly feminine archetype, wildly fragile, sexy and womanly right down to the way we praise him as the 'good woman' in his relationship with JK- loyal, faithful, nurturing, kind, silent in that he continues to perform Jikook even when Jikook are not in a great place. etc.

Yet because he is seen as womanly or feminine, the part of the fandom that hates women hate Jimin. That's where all the slut shaming, bullying and harassment stems from- misogyny.

Jk is viewed as the opposite of that. By most, he is very masculine man and as such harbors all the traits of masculinity the modern woman detests- toxic masculinity, cheating, disloyal, fuckboy who treats women like shit. All forms of hatred and intolerance towards men is projected on to him especially by male intolerant people or dare I say feminist women within the fandom.

And you see them in the way they are always fighting for Jimin against JK as if Jimin were a fragile faithful woman whose man don't treat him right thus further perpetuating the heteronormative stereotypes of Jimin.

What's disconcerting is Jikook are both men and yet depending on how their masculinity or femininity is perceived, they are both treated very differently.

You hear Tuktukkers talk about how Jikook is as a result of heteronormativity and thus prescribe Taekook as the ideal homonormative ship- because to them, Tae and JK are both seen as two whole men.

To them Jimin is just not man enough to even be gay- isn't that the foundation of homophobia?

Gay men not seen as men at all?

Whereas amongst Jokers, Jimin's manliness is often forgiven and JK's is abhorred. Jk is too much of a man and men just ain't shit.

This may sound like an over simplification but Tuktukkers hate women, Jokers hate men and either side suck. In my opinion.

Jimin is a nurturer he cares about people including his boyfriend. JK is an empath he feels the pain of those close to him including his boyfriend and is often moved to ease or take away some of that pain.

It's thus annoying to hear people out here yell and complain on every turn each time JK interacts with the others how JK 'doesn't act exclusive' with Jimin or how he doesn't care about Jimin.

Should he not care about anyone besides Jimin just because he is dating Jimin?

It's annoying when they say the same about Jimin. Jimin nurtures everyone ergo there's nothing special or exclusive about the way he nurtures JK.

Nonsense such as these are spewed without taking into account that those acts in themselves speak directly to who these people are as human beings first and foremost; secondly, to how they feel about the person at the recieving end of their affections.

If they are treating everyone the same it's probably because they love everyone too- in a non romantic way of course. It's their love language. They love others with the same heart they love eachother with.

It doesn't take away from how they feel about eachother. JK admiring another member does not mean when he admires Jimin it's nothing. It just mean he admires Jimin too.

Not everything has to be romanticized or given a romantic context. They are each expressing themselves and their feelings for their bandmates. It's about them not their bandmates or their relationship with said bandmates.

Certain moments are just attestation to their love language be it platonic or romantic and it says more about who they are as people than what their relationship with the other person is. It's not all about their relationship.

People need to start treating Jikook as individuals. They are humans first before a ship. Shipping them shouldn't take away from their authentic expressions of self.

That's how they each end up getting cussed out in these streets left and right.

It's ridiculous.

This is JK being JK. Imma leave it at that.

This is from the same interview where Tae was talking about how they love showcasing their bond.

It's ok to celebrate it. Just see it for what it is- as flowing from JK's kind self. This is not Jikook. This is JK. Jeon Jungkook.

Don't fume or act disappointed when you see him do the same kind gesture for another member just because of the meaning you are imposing on this moment. Know what I mean?

That being said, there are certain Jikook 'skinship' moments that crosses the line of skinship right into sexual foreplay.

If 'skinship' leaves you 'sexually excited' it's not skinship. Nobody can tell me nothing.

Make of this moment what you will. Just be responsible with it. I think. But don't mind me. I'm grumpy.

Signed,

GOLDY

[itsamejin]

trash ||  taehyung fluff/angst

Part 2

Summary: Taehyung and you are friends with benefits, but you’re having a hard time maintaining this secret relationship when a close friend of yours starts falling in love with him.

Warning: Suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and casual sex, cursing and crude language/humor

Genre: Fluff, Angst, fwb!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,589 Words

—

Taehyung and you were never one for relationships. You knew it, he knew it, the long list of lovers you two had could attest to that fact the most. You two were notorious for the number of people you slept with, not that it was any of their business anyway. 

It wasn’t like you intended to be with him. In fact, your initial impression of him was that of annoyance. Taehyung would flirt with you shamelessly during parties and often referred to you as his “rival”. With the nonstop back and forth between you two, your mutual friends were easily agitated with how you played hard to get. They had to admit, though, it was hilarious seeing Taehyung insist on taking you out on a date, only for you to insist that he should rot in hell.

This went on for a whole year, so it only made sense when the second year of university came around and you had decided to cave in to his boyish charms. It was meant to just be a bit of fun with nothing tying you down to each other. You’d have sex at his place, and his place only, and never speak of it to anyone on campus.

No one knew of your escapades and frankly, it was easier that way. Your friends were sure you hated him and his friends were sure he’d never have a chance. It was the perfect arrangement. They didn’t have to know about the late nights of sneaking into his dorm room, the times he helped you escape from the campus guards at the crack of dawn, or even hiding you in his closet when his friends came over for a surprise visit. 

As far as you were concerned, this relationship would stay a secret.

—

You didn’t need to be Einstein to know that Taehyung was hooking up with another girl just as consistently as he was fucking you. It wasn’t a shocking fact, but you had your regulars besides Taehyung too. It was just the way he described her that surprised you. 

“She’s like the total package y’know?” he said after a particular night of companionship which led you tangled up in his arms on his couch, naked and panting. “Sucks she has to waste it all on me, but she’s a nice girl. Might have to end it quickly before I catch feelings.”

Taehyung caught feelings way more often than you did. It was easy for him to get attached to girls, unlike you. Most of the men you slept with were ready to leave by the next day so liking someone you hooked up with was rare. Taehyung must’ve really taken a liking to this girl with the way he was stroking your hair, as if in deep thought over his own words.

You’ve never met her, but you knew she had to be pretty. Every girl Taehyung had his eyes set on was beautiful, yet you knew he played favorites. After almost every night you spent at his place, he’d reveal that you were his favorite girl, and while you didn’t really take that as a compliment, you’d always reply that he was your favorite too. The two of you sprawled out on his couch sipping the whiskey you poured before he fucked you, it was almost like trash acknowledging trash.

“But I don't think anyone could replace you,” he muttered into your hair, taking one long gulp of his drink.

You shook your head.

“I can name four other guys that I could hit up instead of you,” you teased, not really believing your own words.

Taehyung looked at you seriously and set his glass down. You did too.

“You sure about that?” he asked lowly, caressing your bare calf with his fingertips. You giggled at the sensation.

“I don’t know,” you said playfully. “Why don’t you show me why you’re my favorite, Tae?”

He gave a small scoff and practically pounced on you, pushing you down onto the couch without a moment of hesitation.

—

Now him fucking another person wouldn’t have normally been a problem since Taehyung’s women came and went like the wind most of the time. There were instances where he’d claim that he found “the one” and then text you just minutes later asking for you to come over. The thing was, though, the girl he was messing around with- who he talked so highly about- just happened to be your roommate, Hana. Cute and innocent Hana who would never hurt a fly. 

Taehyung didn’t know this fact since you’ve never invited him over, but it was a downright horrifying experience when you had caught him making out with her on Hana’s bed. You had made things worse unknowingly, by also bringing over a boy from the club you were partying at earlier.

“What the fuck am I looking at right now?” you shuddered, attempting to cover your eyes from their frazzled state. You did not want your image of Hana to be tainted by someone like Taehyung.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were sleeping over someone else’s!” Hana screeched, covering Taehyung’s body with her blanket. Of course, he had to be shirtless.

“I thought you were visiting family!” you shouted frantically.

The tension in that room was suffocating and you couldn’t shake the fact that Taehyung was the one who made it more awkward. He had pulled away from Hana pretty quickly, but he glared so viciously at the boy you were holding hands with just earlier. His death stare was evident to everyone in the room.

“Yeah, I think I should go,” your date said, not quite remembering his name. Whoever he was left hastily and you were left to stare at two deer in headlights.

“[Y/N], this is Taehyung,” Hana said, flustered. “I think you guys already know each other, though.”

You tried to suppress your laughter at the way Taehyung’s face changed so easily when the guy you were trying to hook up with had left. Now he just wore a smug look on his face. You didn’t really know where that came from, though.

“Yeah, but we’re not in really good terms,” you lied, trying to hide your own embarrassment. "In fact, I’m sick to the stomach just looking at him.”

Taehyung grinned, knowing that you were just trying to not come off suspicious. 

“Well maybe another time, huh Han Han?” he said, nuzzling into her neck but keeping his eyes on you. You rolled your eyes at the nickname and his obvious glances. Taehyung never stopped being a dick, even in these situations.

Hana only nodded and stood up, helping Taehyung put on his shirt and jacket. He also had to... zip his pants back up. Taehyung had winked to you on his way out, which went noticed by Hana who glared at him slightly. She softened the glare when she saw that you had no reaction to his lame attempts to flirt. You were far too used to Taehyung’s stupidity to really be fazed.

“Nice to see you too [Y/N],” he said huskily before exiting the dorm. He for sure was going to get caught by the campus guards downstairs and you’d look forward to hearing him complain about it the next time you see him. You laughed as soon as he left, wiping a stray tear from your eye. Taehyung had really dug himself into deep shit this time.

“Taehyung? Really, Hana? When you can do so much better?” you cackled. “I am so disappointed in you.”

It was true after all. Hana was the typical good girl type and came to college with the sole intent of studying and getting her diploma as quickly as possible. You admired her for that. She was a motivated student with clear goals in her life, while you were more of the “enjoy life in the moment” type.

It definitely came as a shock that Hana was able to fall for Taehyung like so many other girls had; it was obvious in the way she blushed. You cooed at how cutely she was reacting. You’ve never seen her so flustered like this with anyone else. It kind of made your heart clench, though, and not it a good way.

“[Y/N]~~,” she whined, pouting lightly. “I’m so stupid. He asked me for my chem notes and instead I gave him my first kiss. I’m such an idiot.”

You laughed even louder, falling to the floor. Classic Taehyung move, he never changes. You could list ten other girls he used the same tactics with.

“Hana, it’s okay I’m not judging you,” you said, grabbing a nearby chair to bring yourself back up once again after a few more giggles escaped your lips. “Actually I am, but don’t worry too much about what I think.”

You patted her head as you walked past her, collapsing onto your bed. You were extremely drunk before you came into the room and you needed that laughing session to finally start sobering up. The guy you were about to bring in wasn’t even that cute anyway, you sighed.

“You know walking into that mess actually kind of saved me,” you said, languidly. “The guy I was about to fuck didn’t have a big dick.”

Hana gasped at your word choice and slapped your thigh.

“[Y/N], you’re so crude!”

You smirked at her innocence. It wasn’t like you’d actually seen it, you just felt it earlier in the club while you were dancing. Nothing to write home about.

“You were literally sucking faces with the Kim Taehyung just seconds ago,” you yawned. “I will not accept any form of criticism from you.”

She chuckled lightly and played with her fingers. Sure, maybe you were being a hypocrite for teasing her especially when you and Taehyung were fuck buddies, but you already knew your standards were low. It was almost expected of you to get together with him eventually. 

You never thought Hana would be into a guy like Taehyung, but then again, it was the classic bad boy and good girl story. Some part of you was envious, but you couldn’t help but want to cheer her on. They felt like the main characters of some romantic drama you’d binge-watch, only to be pissed off when the second leads (who were much hotter) would be forgotten in the script. You shook your head in disappointment. Hana deserved so much better than Taehyung.

“You know he’s fucking other girls right?” you said, sitting up and looking at her seriously. “He’s a bad person, Hana.”

She pouted but nodded slowly. Something tells you that she doesn’t mind.

“Yeah, I know,” she said sadly. “It seems like all my friends have been with him at least once, but I can’t help but feel like I’m special? I don’t know. Sometimes he doesn’t even ask for homework when we meet up... We just talk, y’know? He’s so good with his words, [Y/N]...”

Hana took a seat next to you and winced at the smell of alcohol that radiated off of you. You couldn’t help but feel bad for Hana. She was falling for the oldest tricks in the book because she was so naive. You didn’t want to have to see her get hurt by a guy that was passing college from copying other people’s homework.

“Hana, I’m gonna tell you this in the nicest way possible,” you said, facing her but making sure your nasty breath didn’t make its way towards her. “No girl is special to Taehyung. He does things like that to get in your head and make you want more. He’ll throw you away when he gets what he wants from you.”

“But-”

She tried to speak yet you cut her off. You didn’t really know what motivated you to speak so badly of Taehyung, but you did so anyways.

“He’s exactly like me, Hana,” you continued on. “We’re both fucked in the head when it comes to romance, love, and all that shit. And do you remember how I described myself when we first met?”

Hana sighed, obviously not wanting to repeat the derogatory words you’d said about yourself so long ago.

“Trash,” she muttered silently, looking at the floor. She felt guilty just for saying it.

You smiled and ruffled her hair. She only furrowed her eyebrows in response.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“It’s just Taehyung,” Hana chuckled. “How much damage could he do?”

—

Hana didn’t seem like she wanted to take your advice because you caught Taehyung and her everywhere on campus almost everyday. You saw her tutoring him in the library, walking to class with each other, and even sharing an ice cream cone! Just how badly did Taehyung need to pass Bio-Chemistry this quarter?

You felt mean thinking such things but you couldn’t help but be doubtful of Taehyung, especially when he was still meeting up with you every weekend in his dorm. You’d have thought they were dating if you didn’t know any better, but there you were, in his bed naked for the second time that week. Sometimes you wondered what was going on in that stupid, beautiful head of his.

“Are you sure you should still be seeing me?” you asked him, head buried in his chest. You could hear his heartbeat so clearly on nights like this.

“You caught feelings or what?” he teased, taking a stray eyelash out of your cheek. “That would be a big problem wouldn’t it, [Y/N]?”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face the wall.

“I’d be caught dead before that happens,” you whispered, snuggling into his arm underneath your head. Taehyung traced circles on your waist, mesmerized on how wonderful your skin felt against his.

“Why should we stop?” he asked, tilting your head towards him to meet his eyes.

“Hana,” you replied back curtly. There was no malice in your voice. You just stated her name as if it was a fact. Taehyung only sighed in response.

“Means nothing,” he muttered, nuzzling into your hair. “You’re still my favorite.”

You clicked your tongue at his harsh words, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Maybe there was a chance that you two could still have this... relationship without adding any more complications. Deep down, you were proud that he still considered you his favorite, even if it might not have meant anything to him.

“Just go to sleep, jackass,” you whispered, dozing off at the sound of his steady breathing. You felt safe in his arms.

Taehyung wanted, so desperately, for you to notice that he had said that while sober. It was meant to be a confession, no matter how vague it might have been. 

Before he could talk any further, though, you were already sleeping soundly against him. He’d have to save it for another day, Taehyung thought. He leaned down and kissed your eyelid, which fluttered a bit at the contact. Taehyung chuckled.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he whispered, wishing you could hear him.

—

You entered the campus restroom, fully intent on just touching up your makeup, but a cramping sensation in your gut had you rushing into one of the stalls to relieve yourself of the pain. 

As you were about to flush, you heard the clacking of stilettos outside of the stall and you could recognize that noise from anywhere. They were girls in your marketing class, the ones who were in the brink of failing but managed to seduce the TA last minute to get passing marks. You respected them, honestly. If only they didn’t hate your guts.

“I heard [Y/N] and Tae are seeing each other,” the girl with red heels said. You winced at the nickname she gave him. She got dumped by Taehyung a year ago and couldn’t keep her nose out of his business since then.

“No fucking way,” the black heels responded, clearly applying lipstick as her words were somewhat distorted. “That’s like an STD waiting to happen.”

The two of them had started to cackle and you had to admit, that was a pretty good joke. How they found out was unknown to you. Taehyung must have let it slip or something. You’d make sure to give a talking to him later about it.

“No, but get this,” red heels started, “You know that small girl, Hana?”

Black heels girl nodded, you recognized the motion through the sound of her dangling earrings.

“Taehyung managed to get in her pants too and they’re like, kinda serious. Like, about to date serious.”

Black heels gasped over-dramatically and dropped her lipstick into the sink. She picked it up but was still very much shocked.

“But isn’t [Y/N] and her like, super close?” she asked. “Does Hana even know?”

The girl with red stilettos clicked her tongue thrice as if disapproving what her friend was saying.

“You know [Y/N],” she said with a sigh. “You think she cares?”

Her words stung more than you thought. Did people really think of you that lowly? Did they really think you’d betray your friend like that? 

But then again, weren’t you betraying Hana? She liked Taehyung so much and here you were, banging him every weekend with very little consideration towards her feelings. You clenched your thigh with your fingers until you were sure it would leave a bruise. Should you have told her that Taehyung and you were fucking behind her back?

“Well, it’s none of my business anyway,” red shoes continued. “Those two will get what’s coming to them.”

Even as the two left the restroom, you contemplated on their words further, wondering if they were right about you. Somehow your heart felt heavy at the thought of it all. Were you a bad person?

—

You couldn’t shake off the guilt that tugged at your heartstrings every time you saw Hana get ready for a date with Taehyung. You wanted to seem interested everytime she asked for your opinion on her clothes, but you just couldn’t get those words out of your mind. Would those girls tell Hana if they got the chance?

The emotional torment hit the hardest when you sat on Taehyung’s floor, him playing with your fingers as you rested your head on his shoulder. You had both ventured off to the weird parts of Youtube, watching couples explain why they broke up with each other on his phone. It left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Could you imagine being that hungry for attention that you’d broadcast something like this to millions of people?” he chuckled. “Like just break up behind the scenes, no one cares enough about your love life to want a 40-minute video on it.”

You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying, but was more focused on the several notifications that popped up on the screen from all of Taehyung’s other hookups. You recognized their names easily. Yumi, Jiseo, Sarang, etc. Even your phone didn’t quite blow up with messages like him.

“I feel bad for people in relationships,” you replied eventually. “Like why would you willingly put yourself through that torture?”

You expected him to laugh like usual, but he stiffened.

“Is being in a relationship that repulsive to you?” he asked genuinely.

You nodded in response.

“Fuck relationships,” you said curtly, watching the girl on the screen start breaking down into tears. Taehyung only shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’d like to be in a long-term relationship eventually, even if it hurts in the end.”

You nodded in understanding, but you didn’t quite have the same philosophy.

“Monogamy is weird to me,” you said half-joking. “Maybe when I’m 60 and the possibility of having kids is out of the question.”

Taehyung laughed this time, dropping his phone on his lap on accident. He turned towards you and kissed the top of your head.

“Well, you’d still be hot by then,” he teased. You punched him lightly on the thigh.

You two sat there, enjoying each other’s company silently when another notification rang from his phone. He picked it up, and to your surprise, he answered almost immediately. Taehyung shut his phone off, but before he did, you caught sight of the Caller ID.

Hana. 

You wanted to ask what she sent him, but you didn’t feel like it was your place. Instead, you looked up into his eyes and kissed him deeply. You didn’t know what led you to kiss him, if it was the jealousy or your insecurities, but you couldn’t bother to pinpoint the reason as his hand traveled underneath your shirt. He gently grasped your waist and laid you down softly. There was a bed right next to you two, yet you chose to stay on the floor. As his hand traveled lower and lower, you couldn’t help but get lost in the enigma that was Kim Taehyung.

—

You rolled around your bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but nothing felt right. Hana was at her desk, doing God knows what at 2 a.m. in the morning, and kept the lights on.

“Can you turn off the lights, Hana?” you whined lethargically. “I can’t sleep.”

Hana nodded back in response, but you couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, let me just finish this up.”

You sighed and attempted to cover your head with a pillow. You just wanted to dream for goodness sake. You heard her smack something on the desk and she stood up rapidly. You sat up to see what was going on and was met with Hana’s elated expression.

“It’s done!”

She held up her little project to you and you squinted to get a better look. It was a small poster-board with big red lettering. It said, “Kim Taehyung, will you be my boyfriend?” 

You wanted to cringe at the sight of the bright words. It felt very high school but it was very Hana of her. Your guilty conscience ate you up once again at the sight of her sparkling face. You didn’t have the heart to tell her your real thoughts.

“I know you probably think this is childish,” she muttered, blushing. “But Tae said he never got asked out with a poster back in high school so I thought it was a cute idea! I should stand out from the other girls with this, right?”

The way she asked so innocently made you want to cry right then. She had looked so excited, so full of life and love to give Taehyung something that seemed meaningless to you. She even called him ‘Tae’ in that soft voice of hers. You used to go on and on about how Taehyung didn’t deserve Hana, but you were starting to think you were the one that didn’t deserve him. You’d never even think to have come up with something like that or anything romantic for that matter.

“Is it too cheesy?” Hana asked shyly, looking for some comforting words. She was starting to feel nervous with how silent you were being.

You could only give her a brief smile and a nod.  It was her first relationship after all, there was no need to discourage her.

“It’s the right amount of cheesy for a guy like Taehyung,” you replied halfheartedly, which went undetected by Hana.

She looked relieved as she set it back down on her table.

“Thank God. I just hope he says yes,” she said, finally closing the lights. 

More than ever, you felt awake. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but your heart rate did not slow down at all. It felt like you needed to take a sprint outside to get this feeling of apprehension out of your system. Your palms clammed up and your throat felt constricted.

You couldn’t do this to her anymore, you couldn’t watch a girl so clearly in love with Taehyung be brushed aside for someone like you, whose feelings weren’t even clear to begin with. You heaved out a deep sigh as you collapsed your head back on to the pillow. Desperately, you were searching for a way out of the situation you dug yourself in.

You’ve definitely regretted sleeping with some men in the past, you just didn’t think Taehyung would be one of them.

—

It should’ve been way easier breaking things off with him, but Taehyung purposely made it difficult. Each time you’d bring up Hana’s name in conversation, he’d shut your mouth with his lips. He started to initiate sex more frequently and it felt like he wasn’t even trying to hide you as a lover from his friends anymore. You had confronted him about red heels girl knowing about your secret relationship and only shrugged in response.

“She asked me why I haven’t been texting her so I just told her I was always with you,” he replied back nonchalantly. Needless to say, you did not sleep with him that night.

Nothing seemed like it was going according to plan and your feelings only got more confusing as the days passed. Taehyung had started buying you meals whenever you came over and even set a blurry photo of you as his lock-screen. What was up with him really?

Hana had still yet to confess her feelings, so you were glad that you had some time until you could cleanly cut yourself out of Taehyung’s life. 

Today would be the day, you insisted, but the way he stared down at your lying figure, biting his lip, your mind went blank from any thoughts. You couldn’t even form coherent words as he buries his face onto your chest; he was just too good at this for your own sanity.

“C’mon you can’t be done already, huh?” Taehyung softly whispered into your ear, playing with the ends of your hair as you recollected yourself from another round. You groaned.

“Tae really. We need to talk,” you tried to sound serious and ultimately failing as he planted soft kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“What’s up with that?” he teased. “You sound like a concerned girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He always made weird jokes like that. He’d say questioning shit like ‘girlfriend’, ‘wife’, and ‘honey’ so often that you had tuned it out after a while. The words somewhat held more meaning now, though, since you were planning to end your friends with benefits relationship that day.

“Well, actually I am concerned about something,” you said, pushing him off of your body to lay next to you instead. You sat up straight. He propped his head under his hand and looked up at you intently. You swore you saw stars in his eyes. God, how did he manage to still look so irresistible?

“What’s up with you and Hana?” you asked, directly making eye contact with him. His face had turned sour quite quickly but then changed to that of satisfaction. He adjusted his position a bit so that he was closer to you.

“Why? You jealous?”

You scoffed.

“No, dumbass,” you said, punching his shoulder lightly. “I’m worried about her. Not you. You’re like, her first love.”

He left out a soft sigh and rubbed one of his eyebrows with the back of his palm. Taehyung always did that when he was put under stressful situations.

“Okay and?”

You rolled your eyes. Truly, he was trash.

“Do you not remember your first love, jackass?” you said, searching for your bra at the side of his bed while still maintaining eye contact. “She deserves way more than what you’re giving her right now.”

Taehyung shook his head and pulled you towards him, stopping your search for your underwear. Your back was against his chest and his lips directly on your neck. You felt his breathing on the enclave of your shoulder.

“So who’s the unlucky girl that deserves me then?” he whispered onto your skin. 

You shuttered, feeling slightly ticklish. You couldn’t believe he was flirting with you even in a situation like this. If it was any other night, you’d have swooned and let him take you once again, but it was nearing 4 a.m. and the guilt was engraved deeply in the back of your mind. You did the one thing that could separate him from you momentarily and elbowed his stomach, sitting up again. 

“It’s not me either, dick,” you chuckled at the way he clenched his core in pain. “If you want to keep seeing her, I need to cut ties with you. I might have done some messed up shit behind people’s backs in the past, but she’s a good friend. I can’t keep hurting Hana like this without her even knowing it.”

Well, it was easier getting those words out of your mouth than expected.

You didn’t bother to look at Taehyung’s face as you stood up from the bed, finally finding your bra on the other side of the room. You’d definitely miss Taehyung’s king-sized mattress and the expensive ass wine you’d drink together, but it had to be done. For the first time in your life, you were walking away from a situation that could get you into trouble. 

You could feel his eyes on you as you searched for the rest of your clothes, managing to get fully dressed in a matter of minutes. He had put on his boxers and sat on the edge of his bed, eyeing your every move.

“Hey, I know you might miss me,” you teased, pinching his cheek lightly. “But, I don’t want to get caught up in any more drama, alright? Hana’s a good girl, maybe you could finally settle down-”

He cut you off, grabbing your wrist and pulling your face towards him. Maybe your heart had skipped a beat for a second there, but that giddy feeling was soon replaced with annoyance at his next words.

“And you? Are you gonna settle down?” he asked with a growl that he only ever brought out on... rough nights. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking this. Maybe he wasn’t lying when he said that you were his favorite fuck buddy.

“Unlike you, I haven’t met a Hana to tie me down just quite yet,” you said, releasing yourself from his grip. “No Prince Charming has ever swept me off my feet.”

You said it with a wink, but those words didn’t sit well with Taehyung. Who exactly was he to you?

“I’ll just stop meeting Hana then,” Taehyung shrugged. “We don’t need to end what we have going on just because of another girl. I could cut her off easily.”

You stared at him for a bit as you combed through your hair and then busted out in laughter. Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Tae, no offense, but you actually can’t do better than Hana,” you shook your head, still laughing at his words. “Do you know how hard it is to come by a girl like her? Like, she’s so good for you. Hana could actually change you, you know that?” 

It seemed pathetic that you were hyping up Hana so much and you could tell Taehyung was starting to get annoyed by it to, but you couldn’t help it. Hana was really better than you in so many aspects. Who were you to try and monopolize Taehyung all to yourself? Who were you to discourage her from pursuing a relationship with him? The right thing to do was to give her a fair shot with her first love.

You walked towards the pair of heels you had left near the bedroom door and slipped them on carefully.

“I could change for you too, [Y/N],” he murmured softly. “If you just ask, I would.”

You blinked at his words but continued to put on your heels. Was he drunk? You just came over after some light studying, you were sure he wasn’t intoxicated. No matter how hard you tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart, you couldn’t get rid of the guilt that sat in the back of your throat.

“Tae, you and I both know we can’t change each other,” you said finally managing to get your heels on after grabbing the wall. “We’ve been doing this for months and we still manage to find time to fuck other people when we have the chance. Does that sound healthy to you?”

You tried to ease the tension of the conversation, but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult to switch the atmosphere into something more positive. He was angry with you, you could tell by the way he clenched his fists together and looked down at his feet. What did you even do to elicit a reaction this severe?

“Tae? What’s wrong?”

All he did was shake his head in response, not looking into your eyes. You sat next to him, putting a comforting hand onto his lap.

“Tell me. I’m all ears,” you said soothingly. 

He heaved in a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Would you hate me if I said that I’d stop fucking other people if I just had you?” he asked slowly, trying to gauge your reaction without directly making eye contact. You were still for a second and finally, some things had started to click in your head. Your palms started sweating. 

Finally understanding his words, you pulled your hand away from Taehyung’s lap and scoot a bit farther away from him.

“Tae, I wouldn’t be able to do the same for you,” you said straightforwardly. It was best to be honest in situations like this.

He shook his head and finally lifted his eyes, but he looked in front of him instead of at you.

“And what if I told you I was okay with that?” he gulped.

You sat their stunned, not really knowing what to say in response. Truthfully, you were frightened about the implications of his words. What would this mean for you two? For this no strings attached relationship? It all just felt too overwhelming at that moment.

You stood up, grabbing your purse from the floor, and was about to head to the door until he stopped you by the wrist again. He dragged you back to stand in front of the bed where he sat.

“I don’t want Hana, [Y/N],” he said, tears forming in his eyes. “I want you. Only you."

Your heart raced at his words and turned around to face him. As you stood there, staring down at him, you realized how weak he really seemed at that moment. It hurt you to see him like this, but then again, you  should have expected this reaction. He had gotten clingier with you the past few weeks and you were an idiot for not realizing earlier.

Sometimes it was obvious that Taehyung was the more sensitive one out of the two of you, that he was a bit more skeptical of his lifestyle choices. There were times when you’d seen him genuinely heartbroken after getting slapped by girls he’d broken things off with and how he’d send apology texts to the ones he hurt the most. You weren’t like that- more of the type to ghost, the type to block. You couldn’t make an exception for Taehyung, not when Hana was at the dorm preparing her confession of love to him any day now.

“Please stay,” Taehyung croaked, burrying his head onto your long sleeve.

“I can’t Tae,” you said, softly pushing his hand away. “You know I’m not that kind of person.”

Taehyung had started tearing up, his lips forming a scowl. It was the first time you’d ever seen him show such sorrowful emotions. You smiled sadly at him. It felt like you were murdering someone with the way the guilt had completely overtaken your whole body. Staying with him would break Hana’s heart, but leaving him would break Taehyung’s.

In the end, you lose either way. 

You grabbed a handkerchief from your purse and dabbed the tears away from his eyes.

“I can’t hurt Hana anymore,” you replied. “And I don’t want to hurt you anymore either. I’m sorry.”

He had started to sob and you handed the piece of cloth to him so he could wipe the tears off himself. You prayed that you wouldn’t regret letting him go, but knowing you, you probably would.

“It was fun being with you,” you said, carefully, not wanting to push any more buttons. “And maybe if I was a different person we could be something more, but...”

You couldn’t really find the energy to finish your sentence as you watched him cry into the handkerchief. Your heart was hurting so, so much. You wanted to take him into your arms, tell him that none of it was his fault and that you’d do anything just to see his twinkly eyes and bright smile once again. But you were reminded once again of that beautiful expression Hana had when she finished her poster-board for Taehyung, how they looked cruising through campus on their bikes with matching helmets. They’d make a great couple, you thought to yourself. Hana had the emotional availability that Taehyung craved for. This was the right thing to do, you thought.

“Let’s stop seeing each other,” you said with a conviction that only a person who was used to saying those words could muster confidently.

He looked up at you with disdain, scrunching his face in pain. He had never had his heart torn quite like this before. Taehyung wondered then if this was how all the other girls felt when he’d leave them. He realized, at that moment, that he might have deserved having his heart broken.

“Please stay,” he said again, his words distorted from the crying.

You shook your head and turned the door knob.

“I can’t,” you replied, tears threatening to spill over as you exited the room.

—

You left his dorm at 4 a.m., successfully evading campus security once again. When you walked towards your own dorm building, you couldn’t help but cry your eyes out. No other break up with the guys in your past had hurt quite like this one, even if you two were just fuck buddies. You didn’t even care about the worried glances people gave you as you passed by, you just wanted to drown in in your sorrows.

You opened the door to your room and Hana was there, reading a book. You composed yourself rather quickly, wiping away your tears before she could notice. Your cheeks were still noticeably puffy, though.

“Where were you?” she asked, taking her eyes off the page she was on to look at the wall clock in the room. “It’s so late, dummy. I stayed up to make sure you were okay since you weren’t answering my calls.”

You gave a fake chuckle.

“You know me,” you teased lightly, with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Another weekend means a new guy.”

She groaned in response.

“I literally can’t wait until you settle down and be all whipped for someone,” she sighed, turning a page on her book. “That way I can actually make fun of you.”

You choked back a cry and took off your heels, collapsing onto your bed.

“I doubt that’ll happen,” you whispered, before drifting off into sleep.

When had it become so easy for you to lie?

—

A/N: This was so much fun to write!! I really wanted a realistic depiction of a friends with benefits au so I hope this turned out okay. Let me know if yall want a part two!! I wanted to ask this question to you guys: is [Y/N] a bad person? The [Y/N] in this reminds me a lot of myself so hopefully yall dont dislike her too much LMAO Any suggestions for upcoming stories are welcome. Please let me know how you feel about this, I feed off of compliments and criticisms <3 Much love 

[beauvibaby]

all along - m.tkachuk

a/n: so like, if you look through my page you can legit see me say like two weeks ago how much I disliked Matthew, but clearly, that has changed for the better

warnings: toxic relationship, trust issues (if that's a warning?)

word count: 1.7k

You hesitated, finger hovering over the contact, “fuck it.” You muttered, pressing down on the screen, a picture of you and Matthew covering it as it dialed his number. You flinched at the sudden noise from the hallway, “hey, Y/N, I was just going-are you okay?” Matthew cut himself short as he heard you sniffle into the phone, “no.” You squeaked out, “Danny and I got into a fight, and he won't leave.” You whispered out, feeling stupid, calling your best friend because your boyfriend was being a drunk idiot. “I’m coming.” Is all Matthew said before you heard him moving around, coincidentally, you lived in the same apartment building as him, it’s how you meant a couple of years ago. “Y/N, come on, babe, open the door.” Danny muttered, knocking softly, you didn't respond, only stepped away from the door when he slammed his hand against it. When you felt the fear rushing through you, you knew everyone had been right, why were you dating him? He should be the one person who never scares you, but now you were paralyzed in fear when he jiggled the knob. “It’s your fault, you’re the one who started this fucking fight, if you could just stop flirting with every guy that gives you attention.” You shook your head at his words, even if he couldn't see you. “I think you need to leave, Danny.” Matthew’s voice echoed through the wall and you felt relief coming over you. “Of course she called you, fucking bitch.” Danny muttered, you heard a thud followed by a groan, “get out, now.” Matthew barked out, I heard rushed movements before the doorknob started moving again. “Y/N, it’s alright.” Matthew spoke softly through the door and you rushed to unlock it, he nearly fell into you from the sudden movements. “Thank you.” He was taken back by your words as you wrapped your arms around him. “don't thank me, you shouldn’t have to deal with that prick.” Matthew assured you, hugging you back as you stayed silent. “What if he comes back?” You finally whimpered, thinking about how many times he had done exactly that, go and get drunk, come crawling back apologizing and how you’d always let him back in. “You can come stay at my place tonight, I’ve got a spare room.” He offered, you pulled away, not realizing you had started crying until you saw the wet patch on his shirt. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, awkwardly looking away as he stood there looking you over. 

“Don’t apologize, you didn't do anything wrong.” He shushed you, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek, but freezing when you flinched back. If you had kept your eyes open, you would have seen his heart break covering his face. The thought of anyone ever doing something to make you flinch away from him, it was killing him, but he pushed it aside and put his hand down. “It’s okay, just get whatever you need for the night. I’ll be out here.” He whispered to you, backing out of the room, your eyes shot open, “Matty?” You both froze, you never really used that nickname with him, when you first met you had used it as a joke and quickly found out he hated it. His gaze softened, watching as you fiddled with your fingers. “Can-uh-can you just stay in here with me, it’ll only take a minute.” You whispered shamefully, he could see the nerves on your face. “Of course.” 

***

It had been well over a month since that fight with Danny, and Matthew was there with you when he came back to collect his things, it was silent no one said anything, in reality it was ten minutes but it felt like ten years as you stuck close to Matthews side, keeping as much distance between you and Danny as possible. 

And that led to where you are now, laughing as Matthew struggled to put together the set of nightstands you insisted he get for his guest room. His parents were coming to visit, and as you had stayed in his guest room for a couple of nights, you could attest to how badly he needed more storage in there. “It’s not funny.” He groaned dramatically, dropping the screw driver down on the ground in a defeated sigh. “Help?” He questioned, looking up at you with a pout that you didn't know he had in him. You gave in and joined him on the floor, “what would you do without me?” You teased, thinking of all the mundane things you had taught him to do properly over this past month, wether it be as simple as how to change his air conditioning filter, or how to properly defrost chicken to cook it. “I really don't know.” He whispered under his breath, watching you easily figure out how to assemble the furniture. You tried to hide the blush rising up your skin at his response, “it’s rude to stare.” You reminded him, he let out a breathy laugh as he held the wooden shelf up for you while you got the screw properly lined up. “Thanks.” You sighed out of instinct, making his eyebrows shoot up. “You’re literally putting furniture together for me, stop being so polite.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, nudging you softly when you didn't respond with your usual snarky comment. “It was a joke, don't be mad.” He added, you nodded, focusing on what you were doing before the door being knocked on made you both jump up, “who is that?” You asked instantly, he suddenly got a little flushed. “My parents?” It was a statement but it came out more as. question as you went wide eyed. “Matthew,” you whacked the back of his arm, “you said they were coming in tomorrow! I can’t be here, I’m just your weird downstairs neighbor!” You panicked, looking down at the clothes you were in, an oversized t-shirt and spandex shorts. “Oh my god, I’m going to look like a hookup leaving here.” You panicked more and he started laughing to the point of having tears in his eyes as his parents knocked again. 

“First of all, it’s fine, they’ll be happy to know that I have a friend who isn't forced to talk to me.” He paused getting your attention, you gave him an unamused look as he shot you a smile, grabbing your hand and dragging you along with him. “Matthew.” You warned, as he had a devious smile on his face, “you look cute,” he shrugged, pausing at the door, “and you’re not my weird downstairs neighbor, you’re my amazing downstairs friend.” And with that he opened the door as you hid behind him face turning bright pink. “Delivery for Matthew Tkachuk?” You heard a deep voice ask and you gasped, stepping out from behind him and shooting him a glare as he signed for the package. “You jerk!” You snapped the second he shut the door, “you made me go into a full panic for no reason!” You crossed your arms dramatically, not missing the giant smile that covered his face when you pouted walking away. “Y/N, just having a little fun.” He called, and you could hear him ripping into the package as he followed behind you. You had already settled back down on the ground in front of the nightstand, putting the last couple of pieces on it, you glanced up when you heard him fumbling with fabric. Your eyebrows shot up, “are those the curtains I pointed out three weeks ago?” You teased, watching as he sheepishly nodded. “Well, you have the best taste of anyone I know, so I figured you had to be right about these curtains being right for this room.” He mumbled, approaching the window, the previous renter had left the curtain rod, but no curtains on it. You began laughing the second you saw him holding the fabric up. “Matty, did you measure the window?” You asked, teasingly, he looked at the single panel he had purchased and how much shorter than the tall window it was. “Sure didn't.” He admitted with a genuine laugh as he watched the way you giggled. 

“How about I’ll buy the curtains and you can pay me back?” You offered, your fit of giggles breaking as he sighed a little frustrated with not knowing how to do something as simple as buying curtains. “Next time, you have to measure how long the window is, and how wide it is, and you’ll need to buy the according amount of panels.” You explained sweetly, taking the fabric from him and folding it back up to be returned to the store. “How do you know all this?” He asked with a groan, flopping back on the bed, “I don't know, I guess I kind of just learned it?” You answered uncertainty in your tone, you weren't quite sure, its almost as if you just knew. “So, could paying you back be dinner?” He asked suddenly, your face went pale, looking over to him. “What?” You squeaked out, the butterflies dancing around your stomach. He had that smirk on his face, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, and now just seemed like the right time.”

 “As long as you pick me up.”

 “That is a done deal, Y/N.”

***

“Wow, you, wow.” Matthew gasped out when you opened the door to your apartment, it was later in the week, his parents having just left from visiting, you become self conscious, looking down at your dress. “Is it too much? I can change.” You rushed your words, stepping aside to allow him to come in. You took in his appearance, slacks, dress shirt and nice shoes. his curls somewhat styled. He looked even more amazing than he normally did, and that shocked you. “No, no, you look amazing, beautiful.” He assured you, watching the sparkle come back to your eyes at his words. “Clean up pretty well yourself.” You teased in response, not being able to keep yourself from smoothing the wrinkle out of his shirt, your hand resting on his shoulder just a moment longer than it had too. He cleared his throat, bringing you both back to your senses, “we have a reservation, we don't want to be late.” He whispered, but still, neither of you moved. “Reservations are over rated.” You muttered, a small smirk gracing your lips when he glanced between them and your eyes. “I couldn't agree more.” And with that, he kicked the door shut behind him as he finally, finally, kissed you, instantly you knew, you should have been with him all along. 

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

[yourfavewriteress]

right under our noses (introduction/teaser) | colton parayko

SO, I got this idea for short story featuring Colton Parayko. I have the whole series outlined with a few parts and an epilogue, but here’s a teaser... Would you want to read this?

Teaser: “You want to set me up?”

It all started with a nice gesture. Jayne was Y/N’s best friend and was tired of seeing her single. She genuinely wanted her friend to finally have everything she dreamed of, including finding ‘the one.’ 

“Let me find you someone,” Jayne pleaded.

“Why?” I groaned. 

“Because it might be nice to double date,” She rolled her eyes. “And, don’t act like you don’t think about it.”

“Well, obviously, I think about it but I’m still a firm believer in letting things happen naturally.”

“Come on, I know what you like and what you need,” She said. “How about I suggest someone and if you like the suggestion, you give it a shot?”

“No.”

“Y/N,” Jayne started. “Think abo-”

“-Maybe you should let her be,” Alex, Jayne’s husband, cut in. 

“Thank you,” I smiled.

Jayne rolled her eyes, “Girl talk, Alex. Mind yours.”

He laughed, “I’m just saying, babe. Doesn’t seem like she wants to date right now.”

He stood up, pressing a kiss to Jayne’s temple. “I’ll see you guys later.”

He flicked my ear as he walked by, making me swipe his hand. “Grow up.”

“Okay, I know that you don’t want to be set up. But, what if I could actually find you someone that you’ll genuinely like? You said it yourself, waiting around is boring. And, if anyone knows what you like, it’s me, and you know it.”

“Jayne, I don’t think so,” I shook my head. “Do you not think I can just meet someone on my own?”

“Y/N, of course you can. You meet people all the time, but you and I both know you have never really liked anyone that you just let approach you. We can try it and if it doesn’t work, I’ll back off, but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to actually have someone picked for you this one time.”

“I have to approve before you even say anything to them about me,” I gave in, rubbing my temple. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Well, what would be the fun in that?” She smiled.

“Jayne,” I warned.

“Okay, we’ll see,” She shrugged. “I definitely won’t let you walk into anything blind just yet.”

“Just yet?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Anyway, let me do some snooping around and see what’s on the market right now,” She teased. “You know me, and you know I will not disappoint you, right?”

“Mhm,” I hummed.

“I’ll take all things into consideration, I promise.”

Jayne was simply planning to set Y/N up on a date with someone she thought would fit. A normal set up between her best friend and a guy she trusts with her. But, when one of her husband’s teammates showed up one Friday night for dinner, she got an even better idea.

“I’m surprised you’re not out with the guys,” Alex said from the counter where he was cutting the food for their dinner tonight.

“I’m getting tired of the party scene,” Colton responded, popping a chip into his mouth. 

“What does that mean?” Alex laughed. “Trying to settle down, Parry?”

“Shut up,” Colton rolled his eyes. 

“Well, are you?” Jayne asked from the other side of the kitchen by the stove.

“I’m not not trying to settle down,” He shrugged. “Just, the one night stand crowd at the bars we go to don’t interest me anymore.”

Alex and Jayne shared a look before Alex spoke up again. “So, you’re looking to date now? Just one person?”

Colton shrugged again, “I don’t know what I’m looking for. I think I’m probably just going to lay low and see what happens.”

“Feeling old, man?” 

Colton laughed in response, “I am getting older. Marriage and kids is definitely on my brain now.”

“What if we set you up?” Jayne asked. Colton furrowed his eyebrows, ready to respond but Alex beat him.

“No, no, no, what if she set you up,” Alex pointed at Jayne, removing himself from the equation.

“You want to set me up?” Colton asked.

“Well, if you’re looking for something a little more long term, I might know of a couple people to suggest,” Jayne responded, moving to stand next to her husband. “If you want.”

Colton looked between Alex and Jayne, unsure of what to say. Alex knew what his wife was up to, and if he really thought about it, it wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“She has good taste,” Alex sighed. “Intensely invested but knows what she’s doing.”

“I mean,” Colton started. “ I guess I’d be open to that.”

“Yeah?” Jayne practically cheered.

“Yeah,” Colton laughed. “Just, I’m not going to say I’m picky, but I’d be ly-”

“-Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. You won’t be disappointed.”

With her best friend allowing her to set her up, Jayne thought it was going to be hard to truly find someone that Y/N could like. She didn’t expect the perfect guy to just fall in her lap one night. It was oddly perfect how Colton Parayko, #55 of the St. Louis Blues was now looking to date long-term. He was exactly Y/N’s type, and Jayne could definitely attest to that having known you for so long. But, was Y/N Colton’s type?

Later that night, as Alex and Jayne got ready for bed, Alex brought up the elephant in the room.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but you were thinking about setting up Colton and Y/N, right?”

Jayne laughed, “Yes. I didn’t even realize it until Colton started talking.”

“Me either,” Alex said, getting into bed. “I don’t know, though. Do you think Y/N would go for a hockey player?”

“That’s the only thing I’m worried about. I don’t really know how to sell Colton to her because it’s not like they haven’t met before.”

“And, she’s never said anything about him?”

“She doesn’t say anything about any of the players on the team. Forbidden fruit,” Jayne shrugged. “But, I know she thinks he’s cute.”

“How do you know that?”

“When they first met, she blushed so hard I spent five minutes with her in the bathroom laughing about it.”

“So, we’re good, then.”

“I don’t know if she’ll want to date a hockey player, though,” Jayne sighed. “She always talks about how she doesn’t know how I put up with it and she would be miserable.”

“Well, good luck getting her to agree then,” Alex laughed.

Jayne rolled her eyes, getting into bed. 

After a few moments, Jayne sat up. “It was right under our noses!”

“What?” Alex asked.

“Colton and Y/N! They’re literally perfect for each other but we didn’t realize it. They were right under our noses.”

“Okay…” Alex trailed off, leaning on his elbow as he stared at his wife.

“If we can get them to realize it, right under their noses, we won’t even have to say anything.”

“You keep saying ‘we,’ babe,” Alex laughed.

“You have to help me,” Jayne pleaded. “You can’t sit here and say, knowing both of them, that they wouldn’t actually be a really nice couple? Y/N is strong so she can’t be with someone who’s just going to be passive. She wants to be woo’d even though her pride would never let her say it. They both are obsessed with romantic comedies, which means they have similar ideas as to what they want in a relationship. Physically, I can assure you they would match if they really looked at each other and-”

“-Okay,” Alex said. “I see it, you’re right.”

“You know Colton better than I do, what do you really think?”

“I think everything you just said,” He shrugged. “He’s definitely a romantic, not a pushover and doesn’t want to date one. They kind of have the same sense of humor? I don’t know but she’s definitely his type, I’ll tell you that much. He’s said it before but I shot him down fast.”

“Why?” Jayne slapped his chest.

“That was like 3 years ago!” He exclaimed. “She was very anti-hockey players. She still is, to be fair.”

She rolled her eyes but returned back to the plan. “I have an idea. What if we tell them we found the perfect person for them, but they have to figure out who it is on their own?”

“What is this? A Lifetime movie?”

“Shut up,” Jayne glared at her husband. “That’s the only way they’ll both actually talk to each other long enough to realize that there could be something there. Obviously, we’ll be working behind the scenes to get them in situations where they’re around each other but the rest they’ll have to do on their own.”

“I don’t know, babe,” Alex sighed. “I don’t see either of them agreeing to this.”

“I can convince Y/N, can you convince Colton?”

“What do we even tell them?”

“We tell them that they know this person and they have for a while but they need to be open to getting to know them on a more romantic level first and they won’t do that if we tell them who the other person is. I really think I can convince Y/N because she’s the type that needs to feel comfortable with someone before she actually starts letting them in. This way, they can get to know each other before they even realize that we’re trying to set them up.”

“How are they not going to find out? They barely talk, you don’t think they’re going to notice when all of a sudden they can’t avoid each other?”

“I don’t know,” Jayne groaned. “We’re going to make it less noticeable. We just need to tell them to be more open minded about the people they already know and that’s it.”

“Well, we both think they’re a good match and if they both agree, I’m down to help. But, if this goes bad..”

“It won’t. I seriously have a feeling that they could be good together if they gave it a shot.”

[thejustmaiden]

Heyo, fellow Inuyasha fans! Happy Friday! This particular blog will serve as a collection of random thoughts I’ve been mulling over lately. Hope you’ll consider giving it a read. By the way, it’ll specifically pertain to the Sessrin ship. If that’s not something that is of interest to you, then no need to read any further. Whatever happens, I wanted to get this out before the sequel. Alrighty, let’s go! 

I’m not sure many of us realize just how much fiction sparks public dialogue and shapes culture. There have been countless studies and research done to prove it, therefore this really isn’t up for debate. What the real question here should be is have we taken the time to fully contemplate and assess just how much fictional experiences are able to change or influence our perspective on real, everyday life? The visual arts are just one of many evolutionary adaptations that serve to give us more insight into one another’s mind. If our outlook on fiction contrasts with said insight, then perhaps some re-evaluating is in order.  

Powerful works of literature such as 1984 and the beloved Harry Potter series are just two examples. George Orwell’s book contributed strongly to how readers viewed government and politics during that time, and to this day it’s a book that resonates with many. As much as Harry Potter is cherished all across the world, there are religious and academic institutions that condemn it or have even gone so far as to ban it. I may not agree with the extreme measures taken, but it’s fascinating nonetheless to witness the extent to which fiction can move and mobilize people for a cause.

The takeaway is that indicating fiction doesn’t have the power to create change in our everyday lives is misleading to say the least. So how exactly then can fictional stories that are, after all, completely made up affect society in such profound ways? It all lies in the power of the psychology of fiction. According to cognitive psychologist and novelist, Keith Oatley, who’s been researching the psychological effects of fiction for over a decade, he states that engaging with stories about other people can improve empathy and theory of mind. When we identify with these characters’ struggles, we begin to share their frustration for societal problems that plague them. These types of stories tap into our emotions more so than- believe it or not- nonfiction, and thus their effects inspire us and even have the ability to alter our worldviews. 

I’ll be returning to that specific topic a bit later, but moving on for now!

It’s safe to say that I speak on behalf of the majority of antis. That being said, I first want to add that we are aware that sessrin shippers claim to agree that there was nothing inherently romantic that took place between Rin and Sesshomaru during their travels together. The thing is we have trouble believing you guys when you time and time again provide contradictory statements to defend your stance.

Voicing things like, “all signs point to Rin” and “it’s been foreshadowed” sends the exact opposite message of what you supposedly stand for and, if anything, confirms that you’ve had romance on your mind long before it would’ve been acceptable to come out with openly. You can’t just go along with what we say when it’s convenient to your argument and then back it up later with “who else but Rin.” How can the relationship you’re imagining be so obvious if they didn’t hint at it for the whole duration of the original series like we agreed upon? Elaborate on how we could’ve possibly come to such wildly different conclusions when we started AND left off with the same views for and throughout the series. 

On top of that, making the excuse that we don’t speak for adult!Rin and that she has the right to make her own decisions once she’s old enough is a weak defense. Firstly, because we haven’t even met her. Secondly, because it’s unfair of you to assert that you know what’s best for Rin and then say we’re not allowed to just because it doesn’t align with your beliefs. I get that you feel protective over her character, but do recall that this adult version of her none of us have actually met yet. We have no idea what kind of woman she’s become, what her dreams or aspirations may be, and whether she’s married or even wants to be. I’m not against the idea of her falling in love, I just don’t think it’ll be with Sesshomaru. I guess I’m also a fan of the idea of her following in Kaede’s footsteps, because if anyone can grow up to be an independent, trusted, and wise leader of the community like her it’s Rin.

To make matters worse, way too many of you continue to celebrate the drama cd and profess that it was sweet that Sesshomaru basically promised he’d wait for Rin all while somehow ignoring the glaring grooming implications. Why do you only see what you want to see and fail to acknowledge that actual child grooming scenarios do in fact play out like this in real life? A high percentage of people who have been victims of grooming can attest to this. If Sessrin does go canon, all the sequel succeeded in doing to avoid the direct correlation with grooming was skip over the more questionable and dodgy portions of it. Take out the time jump, however, and you no longer have a loophole to cover up the scary unmistakable truth, which is that Sessrin and grooming are essentially one in the same.

No one case is identical to another so please don’t come to me with your “but how is it grooming if Sesshomaru didn’t manipulate Rin” refutes. Nobody knows what the hell went on during those years between The Final Act and this upcoming sequel. Based on everything exhibited so far- that is if we decide to recognize the drama cd like so many of you choose to do- Sessrin’s dynamic is eerily reminiscent of real life child grooming. Why else do you think a lot of us fans have a huge problem with it? It’s triggering for a reason. 

Let’s be honest, Sesshomaru’s supposed love confession could’ve just been the first of many gestures like it. Who really knows, right? According to you shippers, a major shift in their relationship took place sometime during this critical period none of us got to watch unfold. I’m sure you all have explored the various ways this would’ve gone down in fan fiction and through other creative means of expression. Not to spoil the fun, but all I can’t help but wonder about is just how many of those supposed “cute moments” would’ve been as creepy and cringey as that proposal. Hundreds of thousands (possibly millions?!) of fans would undoubtedly agree with me, too. It seems to me this ain’t due to a mere difference of opinion. Taste is one thing, ethics a whole other. 

By the way, in case you didn’t know, groomers don’t necessarily need to plan out every single move in order for their behavior to constitute as grooming. What we should be paying attention to instead is the fact that Sesshomaru made a conscious decision to act on his own selfish desire for a young girl who couldn’t have possibly known in that moment the magnitude of what he was asking of her. Why is it that a vulnerable Rin is put in a position that forces her to be the one responsible for making such a big, life-changing decision for the both of them? Yes, Sesshomaru gave her the choice and, yes, she doesn’t have to make it till later, but why on Earth is he coming to her with this well before a child her age is ready and mature enough to handle it? Even if his intentions are good (broadly speaking of course), his what you shippers probably call “innocent acts” are incidentally coercing Rin into reciprocating his feelings. Whether he planned for that or not, he’s at fault. Period. 

That’s one way the power imbalance works. A child wants nothing more than to please the adult they look up to and adore, because they’re impressionable like that. Maybe Rin processes this like she’ll want whatever he wants, so that’s what she trains herself to believe- either right then and there or over time. Plus, if you really think about it, why wouldn’t she trust him if in her eyes he’s been nothing but good to her and that’s all she’s ever really known? (Psst! Charm is integral to the manipulative nature of grooming so it’s deceiving AKA manipulation can come off as praise or flattery.) Bottom line is that Rin is too young to have to think about this kind of deep stuff at all, and Sesshomaru shouldn’t have taken advantage of the power he had/has over her to influence a decision she was by no means prepared to hear about much less decide on. Your headcanons seem to imply that she’ll eventually have to choose though, and Idk about you but I rather not push my own fantasy agenda onto a underage girl regardless of how much I want it. Idc if she’s fictional, it wouldn’t feel right so why would I want to see that? My principals couldn’t ever allow for it.   

Even if it wasn’t an official proposal, per se, it’s still disturbing to me that so many of you find joy in the thought of a grown adult male essentially waiting for a young girl HE KNEW to become old enough before pursuing her. I know this drama cd ain’t technically canon, y'all, but since this is literally the only source we have that may foreshadow a potential Sessrin to come, and it’s referenced a lot, I figured it still should be called out for exactly what it is- Grooming: 101!!!!

Just as I demonstrated above, fiction has the ability to make even the most inappropriate and uncomfortable situations be viewed in a favorable light when you put the right spin on it. *cough* Lolicon culture, need I say more? *cough* Despite what you may believe, the strategies fiction utilizes to explain themes/concepts can genuinely lead to how we perceive them, and ultimately to how we come to make sense of a similar event presented to us in real life. Especially if we have no prior experience with any of it and have nothing to compare something to, these perceptions can be dangerous yet still persuasive to certain fans- young ones in particular. The more narrative consistency across stories and different mediums, the more likely they’ll influence social beliefs. Minors don’t possess the same capacity as adults to think critically about the content they consume, and if we aren’t more careful about what we put out there then all of us will continue to face serious repercussions.

This is precisely why it’s crucial we persist in our fight against the rabid phenomenon of glorifying young girls in every sexual context imaginable. Just look at what something as seemingly harmless as fiction has the power to do. The scope of fiction is broad and far-reaching, and it’s about time we stop denying that fact and actually do something about it if we have the means to.

The truth of the matter is that we’re in desperate need of proper education and training programs on this issue in our communities. Families need to ensure their children have access to the necessary resources, but it isn’t just on them. ALL of us gotta do our part and ALL of us should be up for the task. It takes a village, right? If we do not properly discuss and address child sexual abuse (CSA) with our children and in public forums, including the internet, then we’re ultimately accepting incidents of CSA should they arise. Consequently, that also translates to indirectly accepting that the predators among us stay untreated and/or unpunished. That’s how the generational and societal aspect of the abuse can continue, and we must do everything in our power to secure our children’s future. Yes, even when it comes to fiction.

If you still somehow don’t think the Sessrin pairing has anything to do with grooming, allow me to break this down for you one more time:

1. If some of your fellow sessrin shippers say that a relationship like this in real life is harmful, then that should be pretty telling in and of itself.

2. Piggybacking off #1: if your only defense to that is “well it’s just fiction,” then you should ask yourself why you can’t ever come up with better reasons. Same goes for history and culture, so please stop using those to justify this relationship. None of the above can or should be applied since it’s already been established that fiction pervades our lives and vice versa.

3. If fellow shippers who are victims of grooming say they are drawn to Sessrin because it allows them in a way to “take back control” from their abuser so that they can better cope with past traumas, then they’re inadvertently admitting that Sessrin does possess qualities associated with the past child sexual abuse they underwent. AKA Sessrin is relatable for its abusive dynamic.

I have to ask by the way, but why do you get so offended when we don’t support your ship anyway? Is it because we interpret it to be controversial and you don’t like your ship getting a bad rap? Is it because it would be insulting to admit that antis actually have a point in it being problematic and you rather double down instead? Or is it because you’re projecting yourself onto Rin and prefer to not go into detail about why that is? Maybe it’s too personal, or maybe it’s because deep down you’re ashamed. Of course that doesn’t mean you’re bad people, but suppressing these kind of negative emotions can’t be healthy for anyone. A little awareness and self-reflection on your part can benefit not just you but all of us in the long run. Cognitive dissonance can suck, but it’s also part of being human. 

I recently came across a comment I’d like to share with you. Unfortunately, this is not the first time nor will it be the last I see the likes of it. Anyway, in it a fan stated how embarrassing it must be being an Anti in this fandom when an episode like “Forever with Lord Sesshomaru” exists. Guys, this shipper and all those who liked their post are showing their true colors. Perpetuating and/or anticipating these sexualized images of young girls is a grave issue in both our society and media alike. I think we can all agree on that, or at least I hope so. It’s remarks like these that prove we still got a long way to go in terms of progress, and if we ever hope to effectively reverse some of our backwards way of thinking. So serious question for ya in regard to this: Why is it too much to ask that grooming be portrayed for what it is? Grooming. To clarify, grooming is bad and needs to be painted in a bad light. It’s as simple as that. If only we could all acknowledge it for what it is, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

Historical accuracy and cultural differences aside, it appears the crux of the matter between Sessrin shippers and Antis is our acceptance and/or denial of fiction’s influence on real life. If we can’t agree on this, then we’ll never agree on anything else. As mentioned earlier, there is more than enough evidence to support the idea that fiction impacts our lives in extraordinary ways. I, for one, believe in the transformative power of stories. I think they do more for us than many of us give them credit for and/or are inclined to admit. 

This is partially why I believe that the majority of sessrin folk are missing the point most of the time. All they do is focus on insignificant and irrelevant information that accomplishes nothing but more gaslighting and strawmanning. Whether it be an intentional or unconscious decision, whatever we argue goes right over their head. All they do is throw around deflections and antagonizing remarks that serve no real purpose other than to make Antis out to be the unreasonable and irrational ones. Making connections between our own lives and our stories is a completely natural and normal occurrence. If those particular shippers insist on denying just how interconnected real life and fiction both are, what that tells me is they’re either out of touch with reality or deliberately choose to be.

Just to be clear, I am of the opinion that most if not all antis aren’t real life predators. If they say they aren’t, I honestly take their word for it. Speaking to Sessrin shipper directly: We know it’s not Sesshomaru you want to be but Rin. No, we’re not calling you pedophiles or groomers. None of us think you are using a fictional ship to attract underage fans to be the Rin in your life or anything of the sort. We are well aware that many of you are self-inserting yourself as Rin, so please don’t feel the need to tell us yourself because that would be stating the obvious.

I learned from a few of you since this sequel was announced that the Sessrin relationship isn’t just a ship but an opportunity for you to confront the person who used and abused you. So there’s two issues with this I’d like to raise. (Sorry if I’m repeating myself, but it’s urgent I stress this again!) This is what I have to say:

If fiction does not affect real life or have the ability to normalize anything as you claim to believe, then why does “fixing” what happened to you via your preferred choice of coping associated with these two characters in the first place? Why bring your past abuse into this at all if at the end of the day it’s “just fiction” and nothing more to you but a source of entertainment?

By confessing that you use Sessrin to cope with your past trauma, you therein reveal that Sessrin does in fact resemble an adult-child relationship with a grooming dynamic. So why then would you want other fans to be exposed to a pairing that brings to mind the very abuse you endured? We’re supposed to stop this toxic cycle- NOT find more ways to manifest and relive it, much less subject other fans to it. 

You may think that Sessrin doesn’t fit the textbook definition of what child grooming is, but that’s not to say it doesn’t embody it or that it doesn’t at the very least have traces of it that stand out. 

“Antis are miserable people who don’t know how to enjoy a good story. It’s just fiction, stop ruining it for other fans!”

Well, no, it’s not just fiction or just a story. Some of you evidently went and proved that yourself, and without my help, by revealing how you relate Sessrin to your own life and apply it to cope with past abuse. Past abuse or not, as far as I can tell we’re all equally invested in these characters. That speaks volumes and just goes to show that fiction touches our lives in long-lasting ways.

I have something I want to say concerning some of who believe that it’s inconsiderate of antis who have been victims of grooming or another form of child abuse to tell other victims who ship Sessrin how they should cope with their trauma. Now as much as I respect the various means victims discover to deal with their painful pasts, there’s always an appropriate time and a place for these things to occur. We must seek out better ways to safely cope with the abuse we lived through (if any) without running the risk of hurting and endangering others. 

There are plenty of fans in other fandoms who don’t try to defend their ships going canon, because they’re able to recognize an unhealthy or toxic pairing when they see one and won’t try to justify it. A Sessrin romance simply does not belong on a show geared towards teens, and I really don’t need to go into detail about why we shouldn’t support it, at least canon-wise. Shipping Sessrin is your right, but if you don’t keep it to yourself and your corner of the fandom then you really shouldn’t be surprised by the opposition. All we ask is you respect that their specific dynamic falls under the category of child grooming (or very close) and should be treated as such in public. The world of fiction may be wider than the world we live in, but that doesn’t always mean “anything goes.” In the creative spaces our minds occupy we must still adhere to the same fundamental and moral guidelines we live by in life. There’s nothing wrong with exploring new terrains and experimenting with ideas, but we must also remember that our stories are all about communicating and connecting with people. So let’s please be more mindful of the sort of messages they’re sending. 

Besides, this isn’t only about you and what makes you feel safe, it’s about all of us. I don’t know how much more I can stress that really. How can thoughts endanger our children, you ask? Well, it’s not like we’re suggesting that our thoughts can jump out of our tvs, materialize themselves, and place kids under mind control. The forces behind fiction are a lot more complex and nuanced than a “monkey see, monkey do” approach, so don’t waste any more time trying to  describe that to us. You’re taking this argument in the wrong direction. 

Take the “violent video games breed killers” theory. I’m afraid you’re misconstruing what we’re saying and then taking it quite too literally. Please stop twisting our words, because nobody on our side is saying that just because you play violent video games that you’ll become a violent person. The Sessrin equivalent of that would be if you ship them then you must be a pedophile or turning into one. *sigh* I know you guys are feeling attacked, but I’m afraid your defensive nature is keeping you from thinking straight. Clearly, there are always exceptions (I’d recommend reading up on the Slender Man case), but Antis aren’t saying you’re one of them.

You see, it’s not so much about the content as it is the notion of the content. Kids and teens who are playing these video games have been informed that killing is wrong, because they grew up learning that early on like the rest of us. No sane person would advocate for violence and nonsensical killing in real life. Since they fully understand the severity of the consequences of killing a person in real life, they are able make a clear distinction between the two. When it comes to killing there is hardly any ambiguity. Sadly, that is far from the truth when it comes to sexualizing girls. It should immediately be perceived as wrong leaving no room for interpretation, and yet here we are still putting up with these inaccurate and demeaning female representations.

Most children who have been groomed don’t realize it till years down the road. If they aren’t ever taught the telltale signs to properly labeling grooming situations, how do you expect them to make sense of and relate to a fictional version? Let’s think of about it from a child’s perspective. Yes, this includes teens who rely pretty heavily on adult guidance and the content we put out there for them. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment and picture that you’ve never had child grooming explained to you (because that’s just the reality for so many unfortunately). Wouldn’t you say it’s possible for them to deduce that what they see on their screens is how they come to discern something in real life, especially if they have little to no experience with it? Perceived realism is plausible, y'all.

What it comes down to in the end is that the ideas and emotions we cultivate behind these stories leave an impression on others. Impressions are capable of influencing the way we see the world, which in turn affects us and beyond just our imagination. The way I look at it, stories contribute to how and why we normalize certain beliefs and trends. If fiction reflects real life like most of us tend to agree, then wouldn’t you say Sessrin is a (in)direct result of this world’s tendency to place young girls in overly sexual or romantic environments? Where do you think fiction draws its inspiration from? Sure, some of it originates from our imagination, but most of what drives us to create these stories is the real world and the people who live in it.

Fiction is meant to mirror reality, but it’s ridiculous to suggest that it’s only a one-way street. That fiction in no way, shape, or form influences our reality? Or that it only works the other way around? With all due respect, that’s simply not true. No productive discourse can be had if we choose to ignore the truth and don’t come together (at least halfway) to tackle the real issues at hand. 

Okay, I think I’ll leave it off there! Thanks so much for reading. I expect this to be my last blog on any topic regarding Inuyasha in the near future. As much as I’ve looked forward to answering all of your asks and writing all the blogs I have over these past almost 5 months, I think it’s best if I spend some time away for now. With the sequel fast approaching, I’m doing what I always do: hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. I’ve met some amazing people along the way, that’s for sure. And who knows, maybe you’ll see me active in the tags sooner than we think. Until then, it’s been an absolute pleasure! Enjoy the sequel, all of you. 💜

[scarlet--wiccan]

hi! I hope this isn’t a dumb question or something you get a lot (i tried searching your blog to see if you’d answered it before so sorry if it is) but I’ve often wondered how billy (and tommy) are Romani when I’ve always thought it was believed that Rebecca and Jeff Kaplan were Billy’s biological parents? So wouldn’t he be the same race as them? And that the twin’s “souls” were just from Wanda’s and Visions kids, any explanation if you can would be super appreciated thank you!!!

I'm going to break this down in two parts-- first, what happened in canon, and what the text indicates about Billy and Tommy's nature; second, what this means for the characters in a meta sense, and I how I think readers and writers alike should approach the twins' relationship with Wanda and each other.

Wanda conceived twin boys with her then husband, the Vision, through a feat of magic which is, I believe, the earliest example of her apparent "reality warping" abilities. Much like her other instances of reality warping, however, this was an exceptional circumstance in which Wanda had become a vessel for magic powers greater than those she ordinarily possesses-- in this case, the combined power of six hundred and sixty-six witches. She only held that power for a moment, but it was long enough for her to make a a wish-- that she might start a family with her otherwise infertile partner. Wanda discovered that she was pregnant not long after, and the next nine months went off more or less without a hitch, ending with the birth of two healthy, seemingly ordinary baby boys-- Thomas and William. Although the Vision is considered to be their father, the children were, biologically, born of Wanda and Wanda alone, and take after her in every respect.

The children died tragically only a few years later, when they were still very young, destroyed by the demon Mephisto and his servant, Pandemonium. In her grief and desperation, Wanda sought out Doctor Doom, who helped her perform a ritual which would make her a conduit for something he called the "Life Force", so that she may use it to restore her children. This overwhelming power, combined with manipulation and gaslighting at the hands of her so-called allies, led to the catastrophic breakdown that we see in Avengers Disassembled and House of M. Once again, the reality warping that Wanda performs is the product of outside forces, and the results are unpredictable at best. Although she didn't realize it at the time, Wanda did succeed in resurrecting her twins, but rather than reconstituting their original forms, she caused them to be retroactively reincarnated, essentially making it so that they'd already been born instead of having to reform them. This is why Billy and Tommy are way older than they should be-- their current lives actually overlap with their originals. Billy, as a teenager, even met Wanda shortly before the Life Force incident.

So, it is true that the Kaplans and Shepherds are Billy and Tommy's biological parents, respectively, which is to say that Rebecca Kaplan and Mary Shepherd physically carried and gave birth to them. There's no indication that anything strange or supernatural happened during those pregnancies, but it is confirmed in Children's Crusade that the babies in question were reincarnations of the Scarlet Witch's lost sons. While there is a lot of talk about the "transmigration of souls" in Children's Crusade, there are also numerous indications that the twins are genetic duplicates of the original William and Thomas. We know that they are physically identical to each other, coloring aside, and other characters observe, on separate occasions, that they resemble both Wanda and Erik. Billy and Tommy sharing Wanda and Pietro's powers is frequently brought up as evidence of their relationship, and, at the time, the Maximoffs were canonically mutants, which means that their powers were genetic. If their powers are evidence of anything, they're evidence of a genetic connection. All of this is to say that, while the Shepherds and Kaplans are their birth families, Wanda is also their birth mother--the two incarnations are genetically, biologically continuous, not just spiritually continuous.

The cool thing about comics is that we can accept both of these things as true, even if that doesn't make any scientific sense. The manner in which Billy and Tommy were reincarnated was unconventional, even by fantasy standards, and it's basically a retcon of a retcon, written by somebody who might not have had a solid grasp on the Marvel timeline. It's messy, but anyone who reads cape comics needs to be good at suspending disbelief.

—

So, I usually look at Billy and Tommy's heritage and identity in one of two ways-- taken very literally, they each have three biological parents, and we should view them in a way which reflects all parts of that parentage; taken as a more of a metaphor, their origin is basically an adoption story. Wanda lost her kids as a young mother, and they were adopted by different families and reached out to her as young adults.

The neat thing is that Wanda, through Erik, is also Ashkenazi, so you don't have to lose or change any part of who the kids are to embrace their relationship with her. I'm not erasing any part of Billy's heritage by making Wanda his birth mother-- he is Jewish, and was raised in America by a Jewish family, but he also has Central European Roma ancestry.

It shouldn't require very much imagination to envision somebody with more than one ethnic background, especially since these communities do intersect and have shared history. Mutants and magic and reincarnation don't exist, at least not like this, but Romani people exist. Mixed kids exists. Adopted kids exist. This is a fantasy story, but those fantasy elements don't have to preclude any of the things I just described from existing, or from being visible, not unless we willfully interpret it as such. Remember, this is fiction. Fiction doesn't have to erase real groups of people who inhabit real parts of the world and were part of real history-- that is a choice that we make as real people who create or consume media.

There's a lot which could be said about the parameters of Romani identity, and what it means to have gadje parents, or be generationally removed from one's culture and community of origin, the way that Billy and Tommy are. I'm not the right person to explain that stuff, and I don't think it's necessary information for outsider consumption, at least not in this context. What I will say is that many members of displaced and diasporic communities can attest to having gaps in their family trees and disruptions in their cultural lineage, especially in the generations following events such as the Shoah or the Porajmos. For me, that's what Billy and Tommy represent, because that's who I am. I deserve to have space here, but more than that, I want people who care about these characters to care about the history they represent and be motivated to learn more and do better as allies, even if it is only within the sphere of pop culture. And part of that is looking at questions like these ^ and challenging the patterns of misrepresentation and erasure that many, many people in this fandom uphold. I'm extremely grateful to you, Anon, for approaching me so politely, doing your own research, and challenging your own conceptions. That's literally the only reason I was motivated to write all of this. I hope it's legible and that y'all get something out of it.

[geralt-jaskier]

Changes

In which Jaskier gets turned into a woman. Rated M.

You can also read on ao3

Jaskier is only trying to help, which could possibly be the title of the biography that will surely be written about him one day. Only Trying to Help, the epic tale of a bard and all manner of trouble he gets into alongside his witcher friend.

They are rifling through the house of a mage that Geralt is tracking down. Geralt sniffs and squints around for clues, and really if you think about it, the whole situation is his fault because in between all that sniffing and squinting he says, “Make yourself useful, Jaskier. Search the bedroom.”

So he does as he’s told, and what happens next could have happened to anyone--Geralt included. When Jaskier reaches for a suspicious-looking piece of paper poking out of a book on the upper shelf, he knocks over a small bottle on one of the lower shelves, and when the glass shatters against the ground, some of the liquid inside splashes onto Jaskier.

He freezes, waiting for pain or, perhaps, even pleasure, but there’s nothing. He reaches a hand back out for the note, but it’s not...his hand is not his hand. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier calls, panic growing in his voice as he looks down at this body and, oh sweet Gods, hears his voice, “something has gone very very very very wrong.” 

His voice is not his, that is not his voice, he thinks frantically. 

Geralt rushes up the stairs and when he catches sight of Jaskier his eyes go wide in a way that they normally do not, which only confirms Jaskier’s fears that indeed something has gone very very very very wrong. “Fuck.”

“I need a mirror. Do I need a mirror? Do I even want to see?” the voice that is not his own asks, panic-stricken. 

“There’s one on the other side of the room.” Geralt has the audacity to laugh, so at least it’s not like Jaskier is dying, but now does not feel like the appropriate time for Geralt to be a complete and utter shithead. 

Jaskier’s clothes feel too loose now, and he has to hold his trousers up with one hand as he makes his way over to the alchemist’s changing area.  

In the mirror staring back at him is a beautiful dark-haired woman. He recognizes his eyes, gone wide now with shock.  

Geralt comes to stand behind him.

“One of your tits is hanging out,” Geralt points out.

“Yes, thank you, Geralt. I can see that.” Jaskier can’t look away from the reflection where indeed one of his tits has fallen out of the v-neck of his now-loose white tunic. “Nice tit, though.” 

“Hm.” Geralt nods back at him in the mirror. 

   After three weeks, they’ve not had much luck finding anyone who knows of a cure. They haven’t managed to track the mage who was responsible for the potion, and the two alchemists they’ve spoken to were utterly flummoxed. 

“I know of a group of druids we can speak to,” Geralt says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I have another alchemist contact in Temeria. We will find a cure for you, Jaskier.” 

It’s been taking some adjustment to get used to the changes in the way his body is built, the way it moves, how there is somehow considerably less strength. It’s even harder to get used to the staring and leers and horrible come-ons. He feels a bit like a double-agent, now working for the other side and is deeply embarrassed by the lack of finesse from his old team. 

If he stands a little closer to Geralt when they stop at a tavern, that’s only because it offers a welcome reprieve from the attention his beauty attracts when men think that he’s the girlfriend of a terrifying witcher. 

   Jaskier learns that while he definitely does know how to please a woman--as all of his past lovers will attest--there is still so much to learn. He’s lying on his stomach, hand between the bedroll and his body as he rubs slow circles around his clit. 

“Would you stop doing that,” Geralt snaps one night from his bedroll on the other side of the fire.

Jaskier freezes. He’d thought that without the revealing and obvious sound of his hand against his cock he’d be able to get away with this. 

“Doing what?” Jaskier asks as innocently and evenly as he can, hand still between his thighs. 

“I can smell and hear you,” Geralt adds through gritted teeth. 

“The thing is, Geralt. Is that I’m really really close.” 

He doesn’t add that not only is he too aroused to feel the weight of mortification that he should surely feel, he’s only more turned on knowing that Geralt is aware of what’s happening. He imagines Geralt getting up, sliding under the blanket with Jaskier and then sliding into Jaskier’s ready, willing, wet--seriously, dripping wet--cunt. 

His whole body goes tense, thighs trembling, and he can’t help the muffled moan he lets out into the blanket as he comes. 

“Fuck you, Jaskier,” Geralt says, and Jaskier is sure he’s wrong, but it sounds a little strangled. 

   Geralt has been more irritable than usual about Jaskier coming on hunts with him.

“I’m not sure how my being a woman changes anything. I wasn’t exactly critical to the monster-killing side of the operation.” 

“No shit.” 

“So that settles it. I’m coming with you.” 

Though he’s gotten funny about letting Jaskier go on hunts, he’s gotten even funnier about traveling with Jaskier. It makes some sense that they wouldn’t part ways until a cure was found, but Geralt could have ridden ahead on his own and told Jaskier to stay put in a city like Novigrad.  

But he doesn’t, and as they make their way towards Temeria to speak to Geralt’s contact there, he finds he likes living alongside Geralt as though this is their everyday life. Geralt takes contracts and Jaskier still performs for coin and, of course, accolades. 

He even announces to his audiences, with great excitement, that he is, in fact, the famous bard Jaskier and has been temporarily afflicted by a curse that has turned him into the gorgeous woman they see before them today. 

At the end of his performances, he’s found it quite lucrative to say, “Every coin you can spare helps me continue my search for a cure.” 

The thing that’s funniest and strangest of all about Geralt’s behavior during this whole ordeal is that while Geralt doesn’t want Jaskier on hunts, he seems to want him alone in the evenings even less. Geralt sits in all manner of corners and glowers and broods more than he’d done in the past while Jaskier performs--his voice as gorgeous as ever as he adjusts to his new range and the highest of notes he can now reach--and if there’s even a hint of nastiness from the crowd, Geralt puts a stop to it with one of his infamously scary looks. 

Jaskier rather likes it. 

   “Husbands are so much less violent when they catch me sleeping with their wives now,” Jaskier muses. “All I have to do is wink at them and they’re practically thanking me for doing it!”

“We need to find a cure,” Geralt mutters. 

   It’s now been nearly three months since Jaskier’s transformation, and the contact in Temaria was unable to help them. They’re now making their way to the druids, and at this point, Jaskier is starting to come to terms with the fact that he might have to adjust to life as a goddess. There are worse things that could have happened to him, honestly. 

There is one thing, though, that he hasn’t done for a variety of reasons that he would very much like to try, and he thinks maybe just maybe Geralt will be willing to help. They’ve barely been apart from one another in these past months, and Jaskier is sure that his request will at worst be met with an irritated silence.

He drinks just enough ale one evening before they head up to their room and cap off the night with a round of cards that he finally works up the courage to both literally and figuratively lay his cards down. 

“Geralt,” I have a proposition. “Now, you can say no if you--” 

“No.” 

“At least let me finish!”

Geralt fixes him with a wry look but waves a hand as if to cede the floor to Jaskier. 

“I would like you to fuck me. Now, before you say no again, let me explain where I’m coming from. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and my reasoning, I’m sure you’ll find, is quite sound. Over the years, you and I have built up a certain level of trust, so I feel confident telling you that a little tumble in the sheets couldn’t possibly harm that. Not for two friends as close as us.” 

Geralt rolls his eyes, right on cue. 

“As a witcher, I know you’re sterile so there’s no risk of, uh, child.” Jaskier really does not want to experience that part of womanhood. The monthly bleeding is already terrible enough and after complaining and complaining Geralt finally bought him potions that helped ease the pain, and then he kept providing them without being asked.

“You want me to fuck you because it won’t hurt our friendship and because you won’t get pregnant,” Geralt says slowly.  

“Well, I also think you’d make it very enjoyable.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“You can say no, but I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Jaskier says, an accusatory note in his voice, just daring Geralt to deny it.  

Deny it he does. “It’s just jarring seeing you like this.”

“That’s nonsense, and you know it. It’s been months. You’ve had plenty of time to get used to me like this.” Jaskier gestures down at his perfectly shaped, lovely body that he would ravish in a heartbeat if presented with the opportunity. Really, Geralt should be getting down on his knees and thanking him. 

Geralt glares at him across the table. 

Jaskier knows Geralt will never hurt him, so he does what he’d want a sexy seductress to do to him if the roles were reversed, and he goes to Geralt and straddles him in his seat.

“Jaskier,” Geralt’s voice is a low rumble, and Jaskier can see how his amber eyes are going dark. “This is a bad--”

Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck and kisses him, and after a moment Geralt puts his hands on Jaskier’s waist and kisses him back. He can feel the hard outline of Geralt’s cock pressing against his clit and he grounds himself down, chasing that sweet friction. 

He’s losing himself in the kiss, the building ache in his cunt, his breasts pressed against Geralt’s strong chest when Geralt stands, Jaskier’s legs wrapping around him, and walks them to the bed.

   The next morning Jaskier rolls over and opens his eyes to find Geralt looking at him strangely. 

“What?” Jaskier says in a voice that is his but not his. He looks down at himself. His beautiful tits are gone, his hairy chest has returned. He feels sweet relief and joy and a touch of regret which grows into an entire fistful of regret when he catches Geralt’s eyes and realizes that last night would be a memory not to be repeated. His stomach drops. 

Geralt’s brow furrows. “Don’t have to go find the druids then.” 

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed,” Jaskier says testily. 

“I’m not,” Geralt says. “Are you?” 

“I don’t know.” Jaskier sighs and says wistfully, “I was so beautiful.” 

“You did make a beautiful woman,” Geralt agrees. He hesitates then says, “Don’t really mind what I’m seeing now either, though.” 

There’s a moment where Jaskier thinks he must have misheard or misunderstood, but as he meets Geralt’s eyes and Geralt doesn’t look away, Jaskier’s heart begins to hammer. A smile spreads across his face. 

“Leave the sweet-talking to me from now on, Geralt,” he says, not meaning this at all. 

He tugs Geralt to him and Jaskier celebrates the welcome return of his cock. 

   As they ride on from the town, Jaskier begins to work on a song about his time as a woman, which he will always remember fondly.  

“How does this sound? Oh how I’d fix this, I couldn’t be sure / Only to find true love’s cock was the cure .” 

“True love’s cock.” Geralt snorts. “That’s a new one.” 

Jaskier waits for the moment Geralt will tell him it’s not true love. 

The moment never comes.