#but.... sometimes a guy has certain needs and urges

[ufolvr]

How I sleep understanding my favorite villain's personality and backstory and why they work so well while also throwing key aspects of it away for the benefit of my own indulgences btw ^_^

[strawberrysturniolo]

jealous // fwb!chris

summary: your friends with benefits, chris, sees you with another guy at a party and takes you somewhere to remind you who you belong to warnings: smutty af so if you don't like that, get lost! semi public sex, fem!receiving

Chris Sturniolo and I made a pact a few months ago. 

He helps me get over my ex, and I keep him busy. 

This pact was all about us getting something — sex. 

When we first met, I was in a long term relationship with a guy who didn’t have his head on straight. Chris was proudly single, but in desperate need of sex. 

After a night of crying and confusion, I tried something I never thought I would bother with. 

I texted Chris and asked him to come over, both of us knowing damn well what the other wanted. 

We had sex all night, sometimes waking the other up with our mouths all over each other, sometimes with his dick lining perfectly with my pussy when we cuddled that it would be a sin for us not to finish the job. The next morning we vowed that we would keep hooking up, only if we promised that it was just sex, and there were absolutely no feelings involved. 

I wasn’t too thrilled to hear about some influencer party that Chris was going to. I didn’t care that he had a life around girls, and I didn’t care if he was into them. What I cared about was him putting his dick somewhere without letting me know, and me suffering the consequences of him transferring something to me. 

I was even less thrilled when my best friend, Nick, invited me as his plus one. Don’t get me wrong, anywhere Nick goes, I’m usually there too, but the whole LA party scene is not my thing at all. I can last about an hour before I'm tapping out and wanting to be home. 

He begged and begged and I caved, leaving me to stand in front of my closet to search for an outfit. 

My phone chimed on my bed.

Chris: Why am I only just now hearing that you’re coming tonight?

Me: 🤷🏻‍♀️ Black lingerie or white?

Chris: Come over. 

Me: Can’t. Uber is getting here soon. 

Chris: Cancel it.

Me: See you at the partyyyy

After Ubering and searching for the way into the building, I pulled out my phone to text Nick in hopes of finding him. Before I realized, a familiar hand slid across my back, finding my waist and turning me around. 

Chris’ smirk was the most prominent feature on his face. “Hey pretty.”

I had to stop my stomach from flipping at the compliment, the nickname he has attached to me lately. It’s hard not to fall for him when he says shit like that. 

I try to act unbothered for the sake of keeping my sanity. “Where’s Nick?”

Chris’ head dips in a certain direction, pointing to Nick through a crowd of people. “I’m here though.”

I nod once. “I see that.”

“You wearin’ this for me?”

His eyes linger down my chest, focusing on the mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. A black mini skirt hugs my hips, inviting Chris’ hands to my waist. I suck in a breath before pushing his hands away. 

“Not here,” I warn him in a whisper. 

“Then let’s find somewhere,” he suggests immediately, his urges showing. 

It takes everything in me to push his hands away and search further for my friend. 

As the minutes pass, I find myself sticking close to Nick, nodding along to any conversation that he is involved in. He makes socializing look so easy, taking control of everyone in the room in the best way. Meanwhile, I look lost next to him. 

In hopes of liquid courage and something to hold onto instead of picking at my fingers, I head back to the bar, ordering a vodka red bull - something to keep me feeling comfortable, but hopefully keeping me awake and not yawning in everyone’s faces. The last thing I want is for Nick to feel bad about inviting me, and for everyone else to think I’m a bitch. 

Seconds later, I’m trapped in a conversation with someone I really couldn’t care less about. Some model talking about his work, clearly trying to impress me. The sad thing is, I know he’s trying hard to make me swoon, but this is what happens at every one of these parties. He’s not flirting with me because of anything I have to offer. He’s simply trying to make himself look good. 

I try to pay attention to his words, but out of the corner of my eye I’m able to spot someone’s glare from a mile away. 

Chris stands fifty feet from me, his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring at the man in front of me. 

Suddenly, I’m interested in this model. 

My hand trails up his arm, earning a satisfied smirk from him before he steps closer, his thighs brushing mine. I don’t even have to be looking at Chris to know his reaction to that action — he’s charging over to us. 

Before I have time to suggest us leaving this spot to get away from Chris, he’s already squeezing between us. 

His nose is inches from mine, and when they brush, I find myself thinking about last night, his nose rubbing my clit while he ate my pussy. 

“Who’s your friend, baby?”

My eyes could burn holes in his. I don’t know if I’m more mad that he’s doing this right now, or embarrassed that I was so zoned out that I don’t even remember this guys name. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t bother telling me. 

When Chris doesn’t get a response from me, he turns over his shoulder. “You can go now.”

With one look, the nameless guy I was talking to vanishes. I smack Chris’ chest. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Me?” He responds with a surprised tone. “You’re the one rubbing all up on guys in front of me. You expect me to just sit back and do nothing?”

“Yes!” I shout, walking away. His hand on my wrist pulls me back to him. “I’m not yours to claim, and you coming up and stopping me from talking to any guy you see is fucking pathetic. You and I fuck. That’s it.”

I watch as Chris’ mouth curves to a grin. What now?

“You’re right, we fuck,” he agrees, but his fingertips tracing my thigh in front of everyone send shivers down my body for more than one reason. “And right now I’m thinking about pulling this little skirt around your hips and bending you over a sink.”

Shit. 

I can feel my legs getting tighter, and I struggle to stand up straight. 

He dips his head to my ear, whispering to me. “If I pulled your panties aside, how wet would you be for me?”

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. 

“Would you be ready for my cock, or do you need me to stretch your tight cunt out with my fingers?”

My breathing starts to falter before I can bother controlling it. 

Chris stands up straight looking at me and noticing every change in expression. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and starts walking me to the bathroom. “I know baby, let’s take care of you.”

I’m unable to form words. He continues to say quick hello’s to everyone he sees while I stand at his hip like a poor puppy. I give in to him so fast every time. It’s embarrassing, but can you blame me?

We make it to the bathroom, and after he locks the door, he turns around and leans on it, his arms crossed as he stares at me. 

“You know I don’t like it when you talk to other guys in front of me,” he warns. 

“I’m allowed to talk to other guys. We aren’t together.”

“Not when you’re dressed like that.”

“So now you have an issue with how I dress and who I talk to? Anything else I should know of?”

“I have an issue with you dressing in a mesh shirt and a mini skirt when you aren’t mine to claim, yes.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Is it?”

This is a losing battle. As much as I try, it’s obvious how bad I want him. 

I need him. 

He notices the switch flip in me. He knows exactly when I give in without me having to say a word. 

His arms uncross and within seconds they’re wrapped around me, lifting me to sit on the bathroom sink, yanking my underwear down to my knees. He ducks his head underneath the fabric, yanking me by my thighs a few inches so he can have easier access to my dripping pussy. 

He groans at the sight of me struggling without him touching me. “Such a pretty pussy.” His fingers grip the sides of my thighs, digging so hard I’m sure it’ll leave marks. He places a wet kiss over my dripping cunt. I shudder at his touch, and quickly grip his curls as he starts licking harshly over my throbbing clit. 

“Fuck, Chris.” The words come out in a pathetic whimper, but they only encourage him to do more. 

His hands spread my legs further before the tip of his tongue fucks me. My moans are uncontainable, and I can feel his smirk growing as I struggle to contain myself. 

I can feel Chris trying not to put his hands everywhere on me. The last time we fucked in a public setting, he emphasized that he did not want to put his hands anywhere near my pussy in case there was anything gross lingering on his hands. The animalistic strokes of his tongue on me are a confirmation of his ideas. The harsh movements of his tongue on my clit have me shuddering, gripping his hair as tight as my fingers will let me. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” he mumbles against my thigh, staring up at me before licking up my inner thigh, back to my clit. His head starts to move more with every swipe of his tongue until he’s making out with my pussy. 

Chris never fails to prove that eating me out is his favorite part of this whole friends with benefits situation. While he loves burying his dick in me, there’s nothing he loves more than tasting me and watching me falter as he pleases me with his mouth. 

My back arches and my thighs close around his face, brushing across the light stubble growing on his cheeks. “Chris, I’m gonna cum.”

He yanks my underwear down until it’s completely off, stuffing the pair of lace panties in his pocket and wrapping my legs around his waist. As he unbuttons his pants and rubs over himself through his boxers, he mutters, “Can you cum around my cock for me, baby? Be a good girl and wait for me to tell you, hmm?”

“Uh huh,” I nod. Any sound leaving my mouth sounds like a cry for help. 

The outline of his throbbing dick is prominent as he strokes himself over his underwear. “Stop wasting your time with the other guys and you can have me whenever.” 

I don’t have a chance to argue back with him. His dick is in his fist, red and throbbing. His tip is leaking like he’s been holding back from fucking me since I walked in this place. He strokes himself a few times, finding pleasure in it by the way his head falls back. Before I get the chance to offer anything to him, he spreads my legs back open with his knee and rubs his tip over my clit. 

A weak moan leaves my lips and I’m unable to stop myself from begging for more. 

“Please, Chris,” I whine, watching as his lips part as he watches himself tease my entrance. 

“You have me baby.”

I almost feel my heart expand, but I’m cut off by the abrupt motion of his dick pushing into me, stretching me out until he’s buried deep and I’m completely wrapped around him.

He stares down at us in awe. “This pussy was made for me.”

I nod, at a loss for words. 

He thrusts harshly. “Whose pussy is this?”

I wince. “Yours.”

“Tell me,” he demands with his teeth gritted. 

“FUCK – Yours, Chris. It’s yours.”

“Good girl,” he says proudly before slamming his hips back into mine. Every thrust is sharper than the last. His pace is steady, but it all changes when I wrap my legs around his waist with no intention of letting go.

He lifts me off the counter, holding underneath my thighs. His head rests on my right shoulder and I can feel him looking at us in the mirror. He pushes my skirt up further, revealing my entire ass. He slaps it harshly, making me groan.

“You love it, don’t act like you don’t,” he teases. 

I nod.

“Tell me,” he says as he slaps my ass again, harder this time. 

“Shit, I love it, Chris,” I admit, the words flying out of my mouth. “I love it so much.”

His hands hold underneath my ass, his hips driving up into me. Every thrust has a slapping sound following, and after a few minutes of a steady pace, I can feel him speeding up. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans into my neck. “I can’t hold off anymore. You gonna cum with me?”

I nod, whimpering against him.

“Words, princess.”

“Yes, Chris. I’m almost there.”

As he presses closer to me and fucks me in his arms, I can feel myself going limp. My clit is throbbing and has been all night, and being this close to a release is enough to make me feel like I’m falling. 

“Chris.” My hands grip his hair tightly, like I’m going to lose him at any second. 

“I got you, baby,” he assures me. “Cum around me. I’m right here with you.”

I feel myself convulse around his cock, earning a string of pornographic moans from him before his pace slows down, his hips burying themselves against me as he pumps his cum inside my pussy.

“Ohhhh god,” he moans. The sound has become my new favorite thing.

He carefully sets me on the ground, letting my feet find the floor before he lets go and kisses me softly, the first kiss we have shared all night. He adjusts my skirt, smirking at the evidence of him on my legs, dripping out of me. 

“Do not wipe any of that up,” he tells me, a seriousness in his tone that I’m not used to. “I want you to walk around this party with my cum dripping out of you, and if you even try to let anyone else flirt with you, that’ll be your reminder of who you belong to. Got it?”

I nod, trying to find my balance before leaving the bathroom with him. At this point, most of our friends know what we are, and if they didn’t, they were sure as hell gonna find out now. 

I spent the rest of the night with Chris at my side, rubbing my legs subtly or making snide comments about how I was full of him still. I knew what I wanted, but some of him was better than none.

[cartierdreamx]

THE LAST SLICE

good morning my sweet babies! hope your weekend is going more than incredible, just a short, sweet one shot i thought of when i randomly have the urge to write, hope you enjoy!! J <333

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: angst (? like if you read in between the lines😭), swearing, it’s really just fluff LMFAO.

Summary: jenna wanted a sign. 

Words: 2k+

This fic includes no NSFW themes, but my blog does have a minors DNI rule! you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment, which this fic falls under. thank you!

~~

“You gotta be faster than that, Ortega.” You tease, sticking your tongue out as you take the last pizza slice, Jenna’s hand narrowly missing the food she had craved the most the entire morning, she knew the crew was going to order pizza for everyone just after the ‘cut’ was called for lunch to commence. But pizza being pizza, it was a war to get to the slices, unfortunately you and Jenna would be one of the last ones to get to the buffet table having need to debrief with each other, the director, and the producer about the scene. Luckily today, debrief was quick and the cheese with carefully placed pepperoni all over creating little pools of grease called out something, your name.

“I’m gonna kill you, l/n.” A stern brunette darts her eyes up at your as you take a bite, a bite so comedically insane she was so sure you were mocking her, to be fair, you are. “Oh, I hate you.”

“Mhmhm, I call bluff, you’re not going to kill me,” you roll your eyes, taking yet another sweet bite, killing Jenna just a bit more, “and plus, you love me.”

“No, I don’t.” Jenna was quick to shut the statement down, mostly to change the subject because she didn’t want to give you two wins today. You knew she loves you, you love her too, except the only difference is, she only reciprocated platonic feelings. It was an accident, but sometimes the best things come from accidents, falling for her was an accident, not a mistake, well you hope it isn’t a mistake.

By now, you were used to the daily making out with random actors and actresses, most roles you booked had a love story in it and you were a main love interest every time, what can you say, your charms hypnotised the world.

But there was a certain charm that washed over you, her, Jenna’s gaze was something, her heart was everything. She was, she is, your everything. To this day, you steal every look you can and when she catches you, a soft blush always surfaced its way to your cheeks, which only made her laugh. You promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for America’s sweetheart but it’s a whole lot easier breaking self-promises, and you also promised yourself, no matter what your delusions would tell you, she doesn’t have feelings for you back.

“Mhmh, you held the kiss longer than you were supposed to.” You retort, teasing her and only slightly flirting with her, making sure she doesn’t read into it.

She scoffs and playfully punches your arm, “BUT YOU DIDN’T BREAK AWAY!”

You play a sly grin, making her giggle a bit, “I didn’t hear cut.” You shrug. And before she could come up with a quirky comeback, your moment was slightly ruined by the producer’s son who has been shadowing his dad for the past few weeks and unfortunately for you, he was quick to pine over Jenna, who wouldn’t? The world’s pining over her, you’re pining over her, it’s no surprise he is too.

It’s no lie he made you jealous, not that you wanted any of his features or his personality, actually you think his personality is quite cheesy, he made you jealous because in your eyes, in your mind, Jenna was pinning over him too, you wanted her to pine over you, wanted her to want you the way he does, the way you do.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but can I steal Jenna away for a second.” He asks, she smiles, see, it was that damn nature of his that made her smile, that damn nature of his that you curse, although it wasn’t fair for you to dislike the guy for this very reason, it was your nature to wallow in angst every time they were together.

“You could steal me anytime, Idrys.” She giggles, making you die inside even more. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, just smiling and nodding at him, giving him the ‘okay.’ As he whisks her away, your eye stays locked on them, mostly locked on Jenna, watching her every move, jealousy brewing from your stomach seeping its way to your heart.

The delectable pizza was just a cold mush to you now, nothing about it was desirable to you anymore, that sinking feeling got to you, you toss the rest of your slice in the bin, but what you saw next made you even more sick, your eyes relayed the sight of Idrys towering over Jenna whilst she looks up, laughing flashing him with those dreamy eyes of hers.

“I love my son, but Jenna can do so much better than him.” Turning around, you see your producer pursing his lips at you, “I’m serious, y/n, they have no chemistry.”

“They make a cute couple.”  

“Wow, for someone who has an Oscar, you are a terrible liar.” Placing his hands on your shoulder, centring you down.

“I wasn’t lying.”

“But you weren’t telling the truth, they make a cute couple because they’re both attractive, and that’s it, they share no fire, you and Jenna do.”

“I am a great actress.” You cheese, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully change the subject, but that was a horrible attempt as it only directed the attention of your director to you two, which he thought it’d be a great idea to welcome herself into the conversation.

“That you are, but no one could act the way you feel about her, the way she feels about you.” She starts, “what you two have is real, and I mean more than just your friendship, like don’t get me wrong, that shit is cute, but the raw chemistry and love you two share, that is unmatched, his son can only imagine having that with her.” She looks to her side, shaping an ‘O’ with her mouth, “no offence, man.”

“None taken, you’re one hundred percent right, and plus, EVERYONE saw that kiss, she held it longer than she was supposed to.” Solidifying her point. Those two acted like a married couple, they weren’t together, but you could’ve sworn their dynamic was unmatched, “go get the girl, y/n.” They say in unison, walking away together, only proving you right.

“Hey, sorry that took a while, what did they want?” Jenna’s voice getting louder as she steps closer to you, now looking at you with the same dreamy eyes, except it was different, jumping to conclusions those eyes screamed platonic. What your dumbass didn’t realise was that the look she gave you was different, she never looked at anyone the way she looks at you, her eyes were love sick, she was lovesick, for you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, and uh, they were just talking about my character development, how they want my character to grow.” Lying through your teeth, you just hope she couldn’t see through you the way the other two did.

“You didn’t like it? It’s okay if you don’t, you can speak to them, they love and respect you, like you’re their love child, cus everyone agrees they act like a married couple.” She says, in the sweetest, softest tone, you could melt, bend at your knees. “You seem upset, baby.” Baby.

You shake your head and with such slyness you lean on the table, making sure you don’t topple over at the sound of her nickname for you, you weren’t lying when you told yourself you would bend at your knees for her.

“Huh? OH, no, no, I’m not upset at all.” Another lie, “it’s just been a long week and I can’t wait to get home; the new season of Black Mirror is out.” You smile, baring all your teeth, now that one wasn’t a complete lie, it has been a long week and there is a new season that you can’t wait to binge.

“Hurgh, I thought you said we’d watch it together!” Jenna acts betrayal as she grasps her shirt near her heart region.

“Okayyyyy, come over tonight.” Rolling her eyes at her, making sure your invitation was finite and not a question, so she would have to come over.

“Oh, uh, actually, I would love to.” There’s a change in her tone.

“But…?”

“But I have a date tonight, with Idrys, it’s what we were talking about before. Watch it without me, I’ll catch up.” Oh. You regret inviting her, because maybe you’d only have to hear about the date after it happened. Oh, who are you kidding, she would’ve told you the second she got back and the voice in your head would be pestering you to dig at her, asking what their conversation was about, you were going to find out about the date in a heartbeat.

“Right, well that’s better than spending it with me on my couch, so have fun, he’s cute, and no doubt you’re going to look breathtaking tonight.” You try your hardest to not show the stabbing feeling that buries your heart right now.

“I’m glad you think so, pick me up at seven.” She cheeses, with such mischief behind her eyes.

“JENNAAAA.”

“Thank you, baby.”

How could you say no.

~~

As Jen enters your car, you can’t help but stare in awe, she looks ethereal, she is ethereal. She was wearing a black mini skirt that hugged her hips, accompanied by a sheer white button up that caressed her curves, thought the material was sheer, it wasn’t completely see through, and her hair was up in a slick, mid bun with her middle part showing.

There was no one in the world, the universe that made you feel the way she did, she was like basking in the warm Australian sun, like the skyline of a city at night time reflecting on your skin, where light was, she was there, she isn’t the light, she’s your light.

“You know, l/n, if you keep staring, I’ll miss my date.” Jenna teases, only making you blush and giggle, but the dimness of your car shadowed your face, making it hard for Jenna to see the blush, but what she did see was the spark in your eyes which calmed the sea of nervousness she was swimming in. Maybe you should keep staring.

As you start driving, you start fidgeting, Jenna noticed but she didn’t want to point it out, scared it’ll only push you away and make you dismissive. The tension in the car was strong, it could cut a boulder clean, and you couldn’t take that so you small talk her acting as if you were her uber driver and you don’t have a relationship with her.

“So, uh, you excited?”

“A bit, more nervous actually.”

“He should be nervous, he’s the one going on a date with THE Jenna Ortega.”

“Hmph, you flatter me.” You try. “Actually, he’s the one who has been nervous all week, he’s been asking me out every single day without fail for the past seven days.”

“And you kept rejecting him?”

“Something like that,” you also hope that the dim lights didn’t reveal your sly smirk painted on your face.

“Why did you?”

“I just wanted to see if something else would come along.”

“That is?”

“A sign.”

“A sign?”

“A sign for me to officially say no, I told him to give me a week, and on the last day, I caved and said yes.” Confusion starts to set in, you couldn’t tell if she wanted to even go on this date, you know, with the whole sign thingy, maybe she was just looking for a reason to say no but there wasn’t one conjured up in time.”

“I take it there wasn’t any?”

“Zilch. Maybe no sign meant I should say yes.”

“Unfortunate,” you mumble, maybe if a sign did show, you wouldn’t be caught in this situation.

“Indeed.” You didn’t think she heard you, but she did, unfortunately though, you didn’t hear her. “What was that?” You ask.

“Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud.”

“Right, well, we’re here, just let me park and help you out.” You park swiftly and with ease, despite needing to parallel park, with that same swiftness you hop out and open the car door for Jenna, extending your arm out for her.

“Always a gentleman.” She smiles.

“Gentlewoman,” you jokingly correct her, she lets out a small huff of laughter whilst her smile stays in place, “what’re you waiting for, Jen?”

“A sign, baby.” There it was again, baby.

“Go have fun, Jen.” You grab her hand once more and caress each knuckle.

She held her blink longer than usual, smiling as she does so, letting out a wistful sigh, and before she turns away and leaves, she tippy toes up, placing a soft, warm kiss on your cheek. Except it was so much closer to the edge of your mouth, you want to say it was a kiss?

~~

Once you settle back into your couch, snuggle up in your fluffy blanket, you can’t wait to hear the iconic tudum ahead of every Black Mirror episode, getting lost in the new season, hoping to clear your mind of Jenna and her date, the date now an hour in.

And even though she gave you permission to watch the new season without you, there was a guilt building in you every time you considered pressing play, so you listen and decide to save season six for another time, another time where Jenna was with you, resting her head on your shoulder.

Instead, you opt to rewatch your favourite episode instead, ‘San Junipero,’ but before the first interaction of the episode could start, you hear your doorbell ring, you pause the episode and go check it out.

Looking through your ring camera app, you see Jenna? You open the door in confusion and map the brunette up and down, making sure you weren’t hallucinating, you see her smiling softly at you holding a pizza box in her hand.

“Hi.” She smiles, only making you even more confused.

“Hello?” You start off, “what’re you doing here, your date?”

She breathes in deeply, hearing the oxygen enter her body, she exhales just as deeply, hearing the carbon dioxide, that was once oxygen, leave her body. “Well, I was on a date, enjoying delicious food, with a very cute and funny boy in front of me,” your heart drops, “but.” Your heart raises, and so does one of your eyebrows.

“But?”

“He wasn’t the one I wanted to be with, he’s great and all but he doesn’t occupy my heart, he’s just a friend, I explained it to him, and he was very sweet about it, he understood, actually he was the one who dropped me off here.”

“Well, who does occupy your heart?” Your naïve and oblivious self asks. Only making Jenna’s facial expression form a horror as a result of you not being able to connect the dots.

“YOU. YOU DO, Y/N, I love you.” You freeze, “you’re the one I want to be with, I love more than you could ever imagine.” And before you could react, you feel her lips on yours, like it was coming home, except this time, it was here to stay, and they were speaking the truth, no lies, no acting, no cut, just the truth.

“But the sign?” You break away.

“The sign was you, you idiot, I wanted to see if a miracle would happen, and you would ask me out.”

“OHHHHH.” Realisation hits you like a truck, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am.” You pull her waist in, essentially pulling her inside your house, greeting her lips once more as she places the pizza on your table, dancing in motion together as if the two of you were among the stars.

“And before you try anything funny,” she pulls away, making you whimper a bit, “there’s twelve slices of pizza, six each so we both get a last slice.”

You smile, making you’re the corner of your lips connect to your eyes, essentially closing your eyes as a reaction.

“Last slice.”

~~

a/n: j! try to write at a normal time and fix your sleep schedule challenge <3 (it’s 6am)

taglist: @talialeih​ (uber eats me a pizza please, love.)

[sxcret-garden]

mtl of who would like choking 🫣🫣🫣

I think i just died a lil when i saw this in my inbox because i actually have a liiiiiittle bit of a choking kink myself dhbsxbdnxjxnx,,,, THAT SAID i'm gonna divide this up into giving and receiving because i have Opinions 👀🫢

giving:

most

Jongho

Wooyoung

Yunho

Hongjoong

Seonghwa

Mingi

San

Yeosang

least

Look- i'm trying to do this as objectively as possible here, so what I'm gonna say is that even if i had the ability to stay 100% objective about this and him i wouldn't put Jongho lower than nr 3. Like, we know he likes control, and what better way to have control over your partner than with your hands around their neck? Definitely the type to have his hands around your throat often if he knows you like it, even if it's not necessarily to apply pressure to your pulse. Actually super careful and responsible about the whole thing, even though feeling your reaction to him choking you turns him on soso much

Wooyoung too is super into having his hand around your throat. Even just the sight of it has him going crazy, and will definitely awaken the most possessive side of him. Loves feeling you gulp against his palm and if you go limp under his touch he could cum on the spot. Definitely needs to agree on some kind of non-verbal cue for when it gets too much for you, because no matter how much self control this guy exerts, chances are he'll lose himself in the moment every once in a while. HUGE on aftercare, will literally not stop kissing your throat on the exact spot his fingertip had been digging into your flesh, kissing it better afterwards

Yunho definitely likes the feeling of having you at his mercy with his hand around your throat. However, it's not something he needs. It's more of a thing he's more than willing to do for you if you happen to be into it, and I'm not saying he won't enjoy himself! Certainly gets off on having power over you sometimes, but he also has his days where he just wants to make love to you, and when he's overwhelmed with his softest feelings the last thing he could think about his wrapping his fingers around your throat

Hongjoong and Seonghwa are similar imo. They'd both enjoy it if it's something you're into, but they can live without it just fine. Also wouldn't really get the urge to do it every single time you're having sex, if it happens on a rare occasion that's okay by them! However, I think Hongjoong would like to do it a bit more often, whereas Seonghwa would make the whole thing that much more intense

Mingi too will be more than willing to try choking you if you're into that! But it's not among his favourite things to do to you. However!! I do think he has certain days where he craves having this kind of power over you, and then he will indulge. Hard dom Mingi jumping out every once in a while and that CERTAINLY includes him having his hands around your throat (so long as you give him the okay for it that is)

I'm very sorry to everyone who would've wanted them higher up on the list but I just don't see San and Yeosang enjoying this? Idk it's a gut feeling jddhdjd they'd both be willing to try and to do it sometimes if you're into it, but overall they'd really prefer not to. They both strike me as way too worried to seriously hurt you in the process, plus there's just a lot of other things that turn both of them on more!

receiving:

most

Wooyoung

San

Seonghwa

Hongjoong

Yunho

Mingi

Yeosang

Jongho

least

Wooyoung and San are complete goners for this kind of stuff. Like you can't tell me they wouldn't get off on their partner's hand around their throat when they're taking on the submissive role. And while Wooyoung would see it as a way to lose a battle for power in the best way possible, loving the feeling of being put into his place by you, San would just give himself up to you completely once he feels you applying pressure to his pulse. Also if we're talking breath play especially, Wooyoung would definitely be the one most willing to try being on the receiving end of it.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong hmmm... both strike me as pretty kinky actually, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were into being choked. Hongjoong especially would be the type to get experimental during sex, and being choked really is just another thing to get pleasure out of - even better if you enjoy having your hand around his throat too! As for Seonghwa I'm pretty sure the second he feels your fingertips against his pulse he'll drift off into subspace so fast... this guy is going to be at your mercy for the rest of the night or day, melting underneath you completely

Yunho wouldn't necessarily come up with the idea of having you choke him imo, but if you were the one telling him it's something you want to try he'd be more than willing to do it. And to his surprise, he'd end up enjoying it. It's not something he will crave every single time you have sex though, just something for every once in a while. When he comes up to you and guides your hand to his throat, you know he's desperate to be taken care of today...

Mingi as well would willingly let you choke him if he knows you find it hot, but it wouldn't really do anything for him. Idk, getting choked is just not his thing, he prefers other kinky stuff to try out with you!! UNLESS you do it with the intention of breath play, then he's suddenly very much here for it and also hard in an instant. It's really the power aspect that gets him going, though he needs to be really in the mood for it to enjoy it and indulge in the experience fully

Yeosang and Jongho wouldn't be big fans of it I think. Idk, I just don't see Yeosang enjoying having someone else's hand around his throat, not to say he doesn't like his partner being in control! He just prefers it in different ways that don't include the danger of him being unable to breathe... As for Jongho I'm convinced he'd see it as a playful way to pick a fight at most lol not that he wouldn't be willing to turn things around on you in a sexual way, but I just don't think your hand around his throat is gonna do much for him (sad)

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Really loved your Lyney hcs 😭🩷 you write him so well. I would love to see some more if that's ok! Like affection hcs? What types of affection he likes, what gets him all frustrated etc ( I think this guy is a blushing mess most of the time, good thing he has his hat to hide behind it lol) Once again I really loved your writing, have a nice day 🩷

Aaaa, thank you so much, that means everything to me! Lyney is my favorite character so I'd absolutely love to write more about him <3 I might have gotten a little carried away this time, too... and I didn't even go into the ways Lyney himself shows affection!

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Character: Lyney

Warnings: None

Receiving Affection - Lyney

One thing is for sure, my boy is 1000% a blushy mess. Lyney is the type of person who will flirt endlessly, but can't handle it when the affection is returned. He'll freeze up and you can just see the wheels in his mind grind to a halt as he struggles to comprehend what he's just heard. He starts stammering, trying desperately to respond with something equally smooth. And ohh, the blushing. The first time you flirt with him - or even just give him a sincere compliment - you'll notice a faint pink hue gracing his cheeks. But the longer it goes on, the deeper his blush will get, all the while he's trying valiantly to pretend he isn't phased in the slightest by your words.

It's so easy to fluster him. Like, almost too easy, especially early on in your relationship. Any little thing can get to him, from holding his hand to complimenting his magic, and he'll end up fighting the urge to grin like an idiot. Your very presence makes him so incredibly happy, and anything that makes him remember that you belong to him makes him want to scream and jump around in excitement. Even before you begin dating, giving him a certain smile or brushing against him is all it takes to have him blushing and forgetting his words.

It might seem a little out of character for a chronic sweet-talker like Lyney to be so easily reduced to a mess, but it isn't. Deep down, he never thought anyone would be attracted to him in such a way, so he's genuinely shocked by your attention. It makes him feel emotions he's never experienced, and it's far too easy for him to get overwhelmed. He's somewhat like a stereotypical teenage girl - he's a lovesick fool who overthinks everything and daydreams about you. He'll never shut up about you to anyone he speaks to, even when he thinks he's being subtle. He's not subtle in the slightest, just ask Lynette...

Lyney doesn't have a huge preference for how exactly you show affection - anything is more than fine with him. Sometimes he can be painfully oblivious, and you'll have to make your intentions clear to him, but most of the time he's quick to pick up on it. He's the type who will learn the ways that you show affection, so he's genuinely happy no matter what.

That said, the way he best feels affection is probably words of affirmation. He needs to hear how much he means to you, he needs to know he's doing things right and not screwing up. He responds very strongly to praise - he is a performer, after all! Make him feel loved, make him feel wanted and adored, and he'll melt every single time, your words echoing in his mind long after they've left your lips.

One of his favorite varieties of this, while not exactly words of affirmation, is definitely lively banter. Make dumb jokes, lightly tease him, things like that. He absolutely loves it when you get playful, and he always ends up grinning like a fool. If you can match his energy and feed off of one another, you'll both be laughing hysterically before long!

He's also incredibly weak for physical touch. I think Lyney is incredibly touchstarved. Sure, he's got Lynette by his side, but hugs from her are different. There's just something about your touches that makes him feel so incredibly loved, and he's addicted to the feeling. He's always seeking out those casual little touches, even if it's as simple as holding your hand or brushing up against you - he's the kind of person who always wants to be touching you in some way, so long as you're okay with it.

He's an absolute cuddle fiend, too. When you wrap your arms around him, it's almost like all of his stress and worries just melt away. If you share a bed, you'll often wake up to find him wrapped around your body like a koala, and you'll have to either wake him or pry his limbs off to move. His favorite position, however, is lying with his head on your chest. It lets him listen to your heartbeat, the world's most soothing sound, and if you'll play with his hair, ohh, he's in heaven. Even if he's wide awake and anxious when you lay with him like that, he'll be asleep within half an hour. He can't help it - he just feels so safe and loved in your arms.

And when you give him something?? He practically malfunctions. The mere thought of you spending time, effort, or Mora on him is just... unbelievable. Perhaps it's due to growing up the way he did, an orphaned child with absolutely nothing, or perhaps it's just who he is. He treasures everything he's given as a present, especially when the present comes from you. The first time you give him something truly special or handmade, he's utterly speechless and suddenly fighting back tears.

He loves spending quality time with you, too. He's just happy to be in your presence, no matter what you're doing. Parallel play works perfectly fine for him - you can both do your own things in a shared space. Taking walks together is definitely one of his favorite activities, and he genuinely just enjoys hanging out with you, no matter what the two of you are doing.

He can have a hard time accepting acts of service sometimes due to his stubborn determination to do everything himself. If you want to do something for his siblings, though, he'll be eternally grateful! Be patient with him. Soon, he'll start allowing you to help him, too, and eventually he'll even quietly ask for your assistance for small favors. He genuinely appreciates your help, truly, especially if you notice that he needs something and assist him with it.

Honestly anything you do with him makes him feel loved and appreciated, and he's never been happier than he is with you by his side. Give him lots of love and affection, he certainly needs it!

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis

[bubuslutty]

You're upset, darling?

pairing: platonic gn!reader x ghost x soap x price

word count: 1.4k

tags: angst with comfort, depression, episodes, no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, reader is mostly refered to as darling + they/them pronouns

warning: mention of suicide, not in detail tho but still (let me know if I missed anything)

summary: 141's darling has episodes where they feel like shit and how they spend their day in the base with those feelings, and how the guys comfort them.

a/n: I wanted to add könig, horangi and gaz but I was too tired to keep writing so I only wrote abt these three. this is very much based on my personal experience. I'm also undiagnosed so I might not use certain terms.

Sometimes 141's darling has days where they're down and very upset. It's normal, they think, everyone must have days where they don't feel entirely themselves, right? it's totally normal and very human, they believe.

At first, when they were upset, nobody would notice, because no matter how they felt, they always did the same things as they always do, if not a bit slower than usual.

They would shower, groom their hair, wash their clothes, clean their room and attend all activities with the other guys. They would even sleep their full hours, uninterrupted, and finish all of their food, rarely missing a meal.

But all of that feels robotic. An attempt to seem normal, to seem fine. When in reality, they feel gray on the inside. Dead. a walking corpse. A heaviness that settles in their chest like a rock. Sitting there, unmoving.

And more often than not, they wouldn't know why they're so upset, so down and dead and just not themselves. They might as well be in a coma because nothing feels real during those days.

Then they would be forgetful, less talkative, and their face would drop, drained out of any light and animated expressions they usually wear. They would laugh along to jokes that aren't even funny, to keep anyone from noticing that there's something wrong, that they're wrong.

But they couldn't keep having their episodes unnoticed. They're not sure who noticed first, out of 141, but they do remember how Soap would look at them. How even when he's talking and laughing loudly, he would glance at them, to study their reaction and face. But he wouldn't say anything, not yet at least.

He would then drag them with him as much as he can, and not necessarily make them speak, because he notices their silence, and the discomfort that would appear in their face when they're made to speak and actively participate in a conversation when they're not obligated to. He would fill in the space, with his chatter, but it would not be as loud, softer, a comforting murmur, a nice sound to focus on when they can't make themselves stop falling inside their head.

And then darling would lean against his side when they're sitting down and he's sketching on his knees, still talking and filling in the air. And he would wrap an arm around them and squeeze, his body heat comforting and welcome in those gray days. And when darling has to be somewhere without Soap, he would give them a much needed tight hug, all warm and big and long and soft.

"You'll be alright."

They find themselves hanging out with the 141 guys more often during their episodes. And Ghost is no exception. No matter what anyone says about the man's personality, whether he's cold hearted, emotionally unavailable or just straight out a bastard, they would never get it right, never, nobody knows him as much as he knows himself. But he does let out bits and pieces of himself to his mates. Because he trusts them.

Darling would be sitting next to Ghost, without saying a single word while he's cleaning his guns in similar silence. The only sound that could be heard is their breathing and Ghost's hands working on cleaning his weapons. But then darling did break their silence once, they don't know what urged them to open their mouth and speak, but they did.

"Thank you for being my friend."

Ghost's hands froze, and he just kept staring down at his guns when he lifted his head and looked to the side at the sergeant sitting next to him.

"Sergeant, are you suicidal?"

Darling was slightly taken back by the bold question. But that was Ghost for you. Asking direct questions when it mattered. Darling didn't take offense to his question but simply shook their head, "Negative, sir."

Ghost kept staring at them silently and reached out for their hand, gripping it and squeezing it in his gloved hands. Darling smiled a bit and didn't say anything after that, nor did Ghost.

Darling doesn't know if their words freaked their lieutenant out or not, but he did mention their very short conversation to their captain, John Price.

"Sergeant, I need you in my office, now."

Darling was a bit confused, raking their mind over any mistakes they did, or said anything wrong to anybody. And were even more confused when they couldn't think of anything they've done.

"You're not in trouble." John said as soon as they entered his office and sank down on the chair in front of his desk. Darling fidgeted with their fingers, unable to just sit still under Price's gaze.

John Price was the only man on base that Darling disliked interacting with during their episodes while simultaneously yearning for his attention and approval. His eyes could see everything, he knew everything.

They didn't like to be weak in front of Price. They don't like how easy it is for him to see and understand them. Even if it is one of the most relieving feelings in the world. It was scary. To face a man who could read you and so easily pin your vulnerabilities.

"Lieutenant Ghost told me what you said earlier today. He's worried about you and wanted me to check on you." Price said, arms crossed and leaning against his desk, staring down at them with a steady gaze.

He went straight to the point, no wasting time or breath.

Darling opened and immediately closed their mouth, unable to form a sentence or pick what to say, their mind was reeling and they had the urge to just spill everything to the man.

He does that to them, makes them want to lay out everything they are and stand naked in front of him and let him see every scar, every mole, every dip, every swell and every pore.

"Talk to me, honey." He said, so gently when he kneeled next to them, that it choked up Darling's throat.

Their eyes immediately blurred with tears, their breathing picking up and now heaving, struggling to breath.

"Breathe, aye?" Price said.

And it was as simple as that. Breathing. Breathing for their captain.

He wanted them to breathe? They will, with no question.

They're not sure if it's just his rank that makes them more obedient, more willing to obey and trust blindly. But they're too afraid to think too much about it. They're afraid they'll find a hidden layer under it.

"I- I feel useless. I feel lost and confused. I feel sick in my heart. I'm not happy, and I don't know why. And I want to be happy, to not feel like I'm not myself anymore. I want to feel good. I want to be good."

And just like that they spilled like an overflowing glass of milk.

Price's gaze softened even more, and he placed a big rough warm hand on their thigh, "Darling," He said and their heart jumped in their chest.

"With all due respect, you're not useless. If you were, I'm scared to think of what that would make us." He said, voice all deep and warm.

Darling cracked a small smile, looking at him with their hands on their lap and staring at him with big eyes, shiny and begging for praise and reassurance.

"You're more than enough, love. It's alright to feel like shite, but what's not alright is you keeping your hurt to yourself and making yourself sick with it. Talk to me, talk to us, you're safe. You're safe and good. You're so good."

A tear spilled down their cheek, staring at Price with their heart beating faster than a horse in their chest, their body heating up and feeling all warm and fuzzy and so loved they could suffocate with it.

"Come here." Price said before dragging his sergeant by the arms to engulf them in a big warm hug. His scratchy beard was pressed against their temple. But they didn't mind. Their captain smelled like cologne, mint and tobacco, but they didn't mind either. His grip on their body was tight, but they also didn't mind. Because their captain was good, solid, a constant force, safe and warm and understanding.

And that heavy stone that lodged in their chest was finally lifted and they could breathe again. They know this won't somehow heal them. To think so would be foolish and a joke. But this felt good nonetheless.

Their captain knows they will have their episodes, maybe not as often, maybe more often, who knows. But what he does know is that he'll set up a private therapist for them. And he'll make sure to remind Darling that they're part of 141. They're part of them, and they don't have to act as if they're fine, it's okay to be vulnerable, because they'll protect them, keep them safe from bad thoughts just like how they protect them from bloodthirsty enemies and bullets.

[hotluncheddie]

for @thefreakandthehair spring fanworks challenge! i chose the dialogue prompt “Listen, I’m a fern, okay? I need sunlight.” thanks so much lex for doing this again! so fun!!

(high school steddie, post s2 pre s3, 1.6k)

(now on Ao3 !)

🌱

Eddies Munson is the Marmite of middle ages female teachers. They either take his theatrics and short attention span in stride, seeing that yes he is trying he just needs things done a little differently. That he does genuinely think he’s funny when he spouts his little lines, the joke being aimed at the room and not at the teachers expense. That yes he is trying actually and does want to graduate, a lil’ help maybe? 

They either see that for what it is. Or, they hate his fucking guts. 

The theater teacher, much to his continued chagrin, seems to be in the latter. Which is abysmal, awful. Genuinely soul crushing for one Eddie munson.

Why? Because he needs to pass theater, with extra credit (for being ‘an integral and helpful part of the spring show’) in order to potentially scrape through and pass the year. Having to take senior year again you’d think some teachers would cut you a little slack, even to just see the back of you. But no, not in Eddie's experience. They fuck you over same as always. 

That's how he’s sitting out back on the theater building steps, dying for the cigarettes in his van. But he doesn’t wanna go over there. Can’t go over there, because he's dressed like a glorified shrub. 

‘Oof, what are you supposed to be?’

Oh how wonderful, beautiful, a truly glorious turn of events. Steve Harrinton is here. Eddie rests his face in his hands for a moment and resists the urge to scream. Steve Harrington in his stupid blue jeans and his new stupid glasses that he sometimes wears, which shouldn’t look as good as they do. Shouldn’t fit his stupid pretty face but they do. They do and Eddie wants to cry.  

Squinting up at Steve, who's haloed by sun rays because his giant, massive head is directly over the spring sunshine, Eddie sighs.    

‘I was supposed to be Puc, but noooo I'm the dry ass narrator with no creative freedom.’ He flings his arms up and glares down at the toes of his sneakers. Away from Harrington's big, stupid face. 

Because that's the real kicker. He likes theater, wants to be in the play, but whenever he tries to act the teacher just seems to think he's goofing off. And sure, maybe he took some creative liberties with the audition script. Maybe they’ve been in a sort of stalemate with the tone of voice the narrator should deliver certain lines in. But that's art, man! Interpretation! But the iron fisted Ms Farrel is having none of it. So Eddie has to take regular breaks to seeth.  

‘Puc? like hockey puck?’ Steve interrupts Eddie’s internal monologue, sounds actually confused. Oh to be pretty.

‘Listen, I’m a fern, okay? I need sunlight. so move outta the way would you. you're harshing my mellow.’ 

‘Geez sorry dude.’ Steve moves so he's next to Eddie, leaning up against the building wall. He messes with something in his jacket, moving it to the back of his jeans, then slips a pack and lighter out and lights up, talking out the corner of his mouth. ‘You want one? apology for the mellow? condolences for the outfit?’ 

Eddie rolls his eyes, fights down his smile. That was actually funny, maybe there were genuine reasons this guy was popular. Ones beyond generational wealth. 

‘Apology accepted Harrington.’ Eddie hums, plucks a smoke from Steve’s carton. Tries to steady his heart rate at Steve lighting if for him, leaning in and cupping his hand to protect the flame from the breeze and everything.  

Eddie inhales deep, closing his eyes to savor the taste. Feels a bit calmer now, less like screaming. ‘What are you doing here anyway? it’s Friday at 4, you not got fair maidens swooning for a romp with king Steve?’ Eddie peeks back over at him, sees Steve looking Eddies hand holding the smoke poised by his lips. 

‘Huh?’ Steve’s eyes snap up to meet Eddie’s eyes, ears tinting pink. Weird. 

‘You looking to score huh? Well, not right now, I’m wallowing.’ Eddie rubs at his eyes, glowers at the rustling of his costume.  

‘Oh nah, no, I needed some uh, extra credit. Had to talk to Ms. O’Donald.’ Steve pulls some rolled up papers out of his other back pocket and wiggles them. 

‘Ah a man after my own heart, I see.. Or are you just doing it to get into some Ivy League?’ Eddie cocks his head, sneers at the rich boy.

Steve just laughs, no anger. Scratches the back of his neck. ‘God no, I think I uh, missed the application deadline actually. Had, um, some health issues, so.’ He fiddles with his wire frames, looks embarrassed, maybe a little sad.

Eddie eyes him, The Fallen King. Steve Harrington. Eddie never really had that much of an issue with him. Always paid for his weed upfront and seemed to interact with Eddie with an air of vague boredom rather than, like, wishing Eddie was dead in a ditch. Plus there were those couple parties where Steve was wasted and spent some of the night just hanging around Eddie while he dealt. He was kind of a goofy drunk, kept asking Eddie what shampoo he used, refusing to take ‘whatever's cheapest’ for an answer. So, seeing him looking even slightly like a kicked puppy has Eddie’s “look out for people who know how cruel the world can be” radar going off. He doesn’t know the story but some shit went down with Harrington, you can't cover bruises like that.  

‘Well, don’t sweat it too much. Doubt anyones gonna start calling you four eyes. You’re still the cream of Hawkins crop dude, Ivy league or not.’ Eddie heaves himself up to stand, crushing the but of his cigarette out under his shoe. 

‘Plus, your extra credit looks like that.’ Eddie points at Steve's fist of papers. ‘While mine looks like this.’ Eddie holds his arms out, giving Steve a twirl and ending with a bow. ‘So cheer up buttercup.’

Steve dips his head and chuckles, looks up at Eddie through his lashes, grinning. It’s all sunshine and long days, sun warm skin and freckles. 

Eddie swallows and looks away. Bounces his shoulders against the brick. 

Steve clears his throat, mirrors Eddie’s positions against the wall. ‘Look, there is actually something I want to talk to you about. You run the D&D club right?’

Eddie hardens a little, see Harrington’s pretty chill, especially for the past year. But Hellfire is his baby. Eddie’s baby, full of Eddie’s people. 

‘I do.’ 

‘Right, so there's these kids I babysit and uh, they really like that game. They start highschool in the fall and I just wondered if you’d tell the other members to maybe keep an eye on them? Let them join and like, you know.’ Steve gestures vaguely to the school around them. 

Eddie can't help it, he moves so he’s back standing, facing Steve. Steve Harrington who just asked him to look out for kids, who he babysits for. Wearing glasses and looking like honey. While Eddie is covered in paper leaves and wearing what could honestly be argued as tights. What the fuck? 

‘Babysitter huh?’ Eddie smirks but sees the way Steve squares his shoulders and turns to face him, daring him to keep going. Eddie’s smirk softens to a smile. ‘I’ll let the guys know Harrington. Or, uh, recruit them myself if, you know, the extra credit doesn’t work out.’ And Steve smiles, understanding but there's no pity on his face. 

‘Thanks Eddie, appreciate it.’ Steve tugs on one of his leaves which makes Eddie blush because he's stupid and the straight boy in front of him is being nice. His name in Steve's mouth getting tucked away for a rainy day.  

‘Anytime.’ Eddie says quietly, finally noticing how close they’ve gotten. 

‘I’ll have to come see the play. Make sure to voice how “that narrator really puts on a show, truly spectacular”.’ Steve crosses his arms and brings a hand up to his chin, as if he's some snotty theater critic. Eddie snorts. ‘Butter up Ms Farrel for you.’ and Steve winks. Eddie's breath catching in his throat. 

‘I’d like that.’ Eddie rasps. Lame. Why is he so LAME. 

‘It’s settled then. See you front row.’ Steve smiles, boyish and charming. Eddie swears Steve's eyes flick down to his lips. But he's also willingly dressed as a tree so his judgment can't be trusted right now. 

‘Munson!!’ A voice calls from inside making Steve and Eddie jump, moving so they’re no longer standing almost toe to toe. Breaks over it seems. Eddie is definitely not looking forward to going back in there but, needs must. 

‘Well, uhm, duty calls.’ Eddie steps back. Giving Steve a little two finger salute, turning to go back up the steps. 

‘Break a leg’ Steve watches him go, a little amused glint to his smile. Eddie only trips over his feet a little ascending the stairs.  

Steve starts to walk backwards, towards the parking lot. He raises his voice slightly and Eddie stops in his tracks to listen. ‘Nice seeing you in a different outfit. You look a lot less scary.’ and that amused glint flashes in his eye, like he knows Eddie’s never really been scary at all. ‘I’ve been trying out a new look myself, sort of inspired by you.’ Steve winks again, turning on his heel and Eddie gets a full view of the light blue hanky shoved in Steve's right back pocket.

Eddie coughs, splutters, feels his brain fizzle and the blood in his body moves treacherously to one place. Sees Steve throw his head back and laugh as he walks away, must have heard Eddie choke on his own tongue. 

He needs a moment, slumping back down on the steps. Steve Harrington who babysits. Steve Harrington who's gonna come see his play. Steve harrington who might not be so straight after all. 

Maybe spring is his season.

[candeathbereal]

Astrology Observations (aspect edition)

-Moon negative aspecting Venus is painful for feelings towards people. Like deadass the constant question they ask themselves is “Do I like this person like a friend or do I actually wanna kiss them?” -Moon square Chiron is a painful existence bruh. I have this aspect a very close aspect too so...There is a tendency to ignore my own needs in favor of others but I am slowly learning to be better with taking care of my self. I think certain things about the aspect can be different depending on the signs and possible house placements. Idk how to elaborate on that so let’s move on and talk about it another day. - Sun conjunct Mars people tend to be emotionally closed off in my opinion. I think the traits of the sign the Mars is in can affect how emotionally closed off at least from what I have seen so far. Like I know someone who had a Scorpio sun and Scorpio mars and damn bruh. I would find myself feeling their feelings with such an intensity. Sometimes I wonder if there is a certain aspect between our charts that would explain this as well but idk. Anyways there was always this sense that I could feel something deep in my body that something was up, but when I asked anyone else they apparently didn’t come to the same conclusion as I did about this person’s emotions. -Oh random thing about this person I was talking about in the previous point there was this time when I was around them and I felt something was off. At the time I couldn’t really understand why but it was very much about them. I kept that in the back of my mind thinking that I was reading too much into things. Then they talked to me later on in the day about their intense back pain and bruh...my body kicked into overdrive lowkey. I felt this urge to yell at them about not taking care of themselves more and wanting to help them a fuck ton with anything. Like oh you’re trying to pick something off the ground, no the fuck you are not! It’s an odd thing but I think it has something to do with their moon in my sixth house as well, but ehh

I hope you enjoyed this post of my random ramblings. Would love to know what you guy’s thoughts are.

[abiiors]

here to request some ross hurt/comfort but like reader comforts ross…i feel like he’s always the big guy who everyone leans on but sometimes he just needs to be taken care of it could be like sick!fic or really anything idk god can you tell i wanna baby the fuck out of a grown man sorry if this isn’t specific enough or you’ve already done it before ily bye

a/n: this is so so so so tremendously sappy and sickly sweet, and also ridiculously tiny. hope you enjoy!!

cw: none

wc: 1k

ross can feel his head throbbing to the beat of the music. pounding, incessant headache that won’t go away no matter how many times he’s rubbed his eyes or drank water or tried one of the myriad of other things you always recommend, and yet, nothing. 

he know why it’s happening too—he has gone from europe to america and back to the uk in a span of ten days, subjected himself to shitty airline food and even shittier coffee. he’s exhausted; absolutely weary at this point. and listening to the same song on repeat isn’t helping. there’s no way he’s useful to anyone at the studio like this, when he’s just so prone to snapping. 

so ross silently picks up his coat, shoots the sound engineer a message and makes his way to the car. 

—

his house smells of jasmine and lemon verbena—a sure sign that you have just left the shower, walking around the house, rubbing your favourite body butter into your skin like you always do. it calms him a little but the headache is still there. if anything, it’s gotten worse in the last twenty minutes. 

“ross…?” your confused voice gets his attention. 

ross smiles at the sight of you, almost drowning in his giant jumper. your hair, still wet from the shower, is held loosely on top of your head with a clawclip. it’s a welcome sight. 

“don’t feel too hot,” he frowns, lip tugging downward. “just a headache, love.”

your frown mirrors his as you make your way to stand in front of him. ross watches your face screw up in concentration, placing the back of your hand on his forehead. “no fever,” you murmur and look up at him. 

“what’s wrong?”

“just a headache,” he repeats, “nothing to worry about. it’s been a long week. just wanna nap.”

your confusion melts away, giving way to a soft pout. “aww, baby,” you coo at him and ross almost melts. the jasmine and lemon scent hits him now that you’re this close. it’s mellow, soothing. he closes his eyes and breathes it in. 

when he opens them again, your face comes into view, except this time there’s a little smile pulling at your lips as you take a hold of his hand. 

“come on,” he feels a tug; you, trying to drag him to the bedroom, “i have just the thing…”

he doesn’t protest, silently following you through the house and into the bedroom that still smells of your various skincare products. there’s a little wet splotch on the bed—no doubt from you sitting there in your towel, scrolling through your phone as water from your wet hair drips onto the bed. ross smiles at your little embarrassed giggle that’s followed by a barely audible “oops”. 

“sit,” you instruct, watching his face for any signs of pain. 

he hides it well, or tries to at least, only wincing when a particularly sharp twinge of pain slices through his temple. he should have had another coffee but now it’s too late for that. unless he can plead you to make him a cup. 

but he’s fairly certain he’d rather have you here than getting a cup of coffee. 

“close your eyes.” and so he does, curious about why he hears a little laugh in your voice but he follows the instructions obidiently when you tell him to scootch back and get comfy against the pillows. 

he waits, resisting the urge to peak when he feels the bed dip below your weight, when he feels you getting closer and sitting right in front of him. and oh how grateful he is for that. because a moment later, he can’t help but let out a soft moan as your fingers run through his scalp. 

he hears a small giggle. “that sounds like it feels nice.”

“mmm, it does–wow.” he can barely bring himself to finish the sentence as your fingers press against all the achy points in head; untangling the knots and getting rid of his hair tie that might just have been half the problem. he sighs happily. 

“c’me here, baby,” he opens his eyes to grip at your waist and pull you onto his lap—the closer, the better. “perfect.”

once you move around to settle yourself, you’re back at it again, this time adding a hair brush to the mix. ross hums contently, enjoying the way it feels, enjoying the tension that slowly leaves his body and how his limbs get heavier. 

through half-lidded eyes, ross stares at your focused face—the little crease between your eyebrows, tongue slightly poking out and he can’t help but press a small kiss on your jaw. 

his beard must have tickled because you let out a sharp laugh. 

he takes advantage of it—of your head thrown back—and presses three kisses down your neck in quick succession, savouring the little giggles. 

“oh, you’re a menace!” you tease. 

he grins back, stiffling yet another wince at the sharp pain in his head. but you still notice it anyway.

“how about we nap…” you offer, setting the brush aside and getting off his lap. he has half a mind to protest this decision but then he sees the offer on the table—you laying down just enough for him to snuggle into you and squish his face into your tits. that’s it, the final comfort. 

“perfect,” he mumbles, closing his eyes once again. ross snickers when he hears you whisper something that suspiciously sounds like god, you’re such a man. but you don’t move. instead you go back to threading your fingers through his hair. 

as his eyes grow heavier and heavier, ross realises how much he’s looking forward to this, proper sleep for the first time in a long time. and how he plans on being lazy with you all day once he finally gets rid of this headache. 

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Kaeya has a lot of things he enjoyed about you. Or, well, admired, to be frank.

CW/s: tooth rotting fluff, short drabble, kaeya is a hopeless SIMP (/silly), tbh he's just a silly guy who can't confess if his life depended on it (and... It did lol), can be interpreted as platonic or romantic (it's both, but it's a slow transition from platonic to romantic hehe)

NOTE: hi, this drabble is for @ryuryuryuyurboat for @ecrin-de-litterature's "kiss (don't tell)" event! I hope you enjoy a drabble of Kaeya being a hopeless simp because as much as I'd like to write a full blown date with him, I've been busy since college and I want to curl up and pass away. orz.

Kaeya never says a lot about the person he admires.

For him, the Cavalry Captain had more than enough to take care of. Maybe it was due to the job that kept him busy, or even because of how life gave him a batch of lemons that he needed to deal with.

But when it comes to certain people like who he's seen now, it made him feel as though he became but the same child when Cyrus adopted him all those years ago.

He still remembered the first time you two met—you were one of Lisa's attendants. An assistant, one could say. You're always available whenever Lisa isn't feeling the urge to check in the library, which is often, and Kaeya had decided to try and see what you're like.

Sure, you may have panicked and treated him like a stranger, but it wasn't long for you two to get close. Soon, you're treating him like you two have been friends for years, joking and laughing over certain things.

Kaeya couldn't help but smile. He always liked seeing others express joy when he couldn't.

Though, little by little, the dynamic seem to change. Others pointed out to him that you and Kaeya had been together for quite a while now, always speaking and chatting over the most mundane things.

Petty drama from the knights, Lisa's recent books and those who borrowed arriving late, the many foreigners that came about when the traveler would be busy in another region... You two had a lot to talk about, and sometimes, he didn't notice how much you two could never stop speaking of such things.

It was stupid, he's aware, but he wouldn't lie and say he didn't like it. On the contrary, he enjoyed that time being spent on something he considering to be enjoyable.

You made his days less unbearable. Like he can wake up one day and think that things will be fine.

He admired that charm from you. You make it seem so... natural.

There were even moments that the two of you shared. He remembered your first Windblume festival with him, the first time you've spent working for a year with Lisa (it was your work anniversary, he joked to you once), and even down to when you two travelled to different nations together.

He's seen it all— your highs, lows, and even the turnarounds. He's heard you rant and ramble of the nations, and yet he felt his pride raise when you'd return to Mondstadt, still calling it your home.

It was clear that you have seen that place, out of every nation, as the best. In return, he did his best keeping it safe. Although, there had been moments he would mess up.

He may act confident, but when alone, he'd feel like he's a lost child again. He loathed that feeling.

The first time you've seen him act like it was when you two spoke of each other's pasts. Kaeya has told you what happened between him and Diluc, and he could never forget the way you hugged him for hearing his voice crack.

He cares for Diluc, like how he cares for you. However, how could he say the same for his adopted brother? Would he ever do the same thing you did to him?

... Perhaps. Perhaps not, even.

Still, he couldn't help but think how much he can even handle this feeling. It's a secret he's kept that your actions made him feel like he can be free, yet he kept himself trapped by will.

He was trapped in the feeling of admiration and envy, clashing and fighting against each other. It made his heart soar and ache when things happen, both because of you and because of himself.

He felt envious of you. He wanted to say that to you, but seeing you smile got rid of that envy.

...

It was a strange conundrum. One that left him sleepless for nights on end... And that's when it clicked.

He realized that it was a form of self-sabotage.

Kaeya didn't want to ruin the relationship you two had as friends, so he kept it under lock and key. He threw the key away, denying that he felt something to you. Denying that he felt as though he loved you that way. He couldn't. He didn't even know the answer.

...

It was stupid to worry. It truly is.

But now? How could he not worry?

He's done this to himself. Even if others told him to say it, to utter those words he forbade himself from speaking, he kept his mouth shut. You two are friends, and he's far too used to admiring you and your acts from afar.

He's craved to admire someone that would make him feel this way, and he got what he asked. Although, he couldn't bring himself to hate you for charming him like that.

After all, that is what makes you you. And he doesn't want you to lose the only thing that fits you perfectly.

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2024

[foolofatook001]

woooo hermit horrors week! excited for this one :D

Day One - Season 8/Game Mechanics

cw mind control, temporary character death

Zedaph has never really had a hard time talking anyone into doing something for him. He’s a very persuasive kind of guy, when it comes down to it, and of course the other hermits are always so very helpful, so it doesn’t take much to convince them into whatever scheme he’s cooked up lately. 

This really comes in helpful for this season, especially now that his chamber is ready for live hermit experimentation. His first subject is Tango, and it’s an easy job getting him into the chamber— just a little word in his ear, a mere suggestion, really (and a directive to sign the waiver, before they begin), and they’re ready to go. Tango is always so willing to help him out with these science experiments, it’s really very kind of him. It’s one of the reasons why they’re such good friends. 

He has to be careful when the subject is actually in the chamber, though— he doesn’t want to taint the experiment. Each solution to the task set before them has to come from the subject’s own pure brain, without any hints or nudges from him. But Zedaph has lots of experience, and the push-to-talk intercom system certainly helps him be a little more deliberate when he speaks. 

He gets lots of interesting results from Tango, and sends him on his way with a casual Go ahead and toss yourself in the lava there, sending him up to the bed to respawn and exit. 

It’s a few weeks before the chamber is properly reset and cleaned out, and by that time Zedaph has landed on Bdoubleo as the next subject. Bdubs is not as used to helping Zedaph in the lab as Tango is, but a few choice words set him on the right track, and by the end of the session, he is performing marvelously. The results are absolutely incomprehensible, but the process was so very fun that he sends Bdubs off with a suggestion planted in his mind— Just something to think about, but— come back to the lab sometime soon. For some follow-up tests, of course. 

Bdubs says he definitely will. Zedaph is very happy that Bdoubleo has discovered such an interest in science. He checks the “willing to return” box on the subject information sheet.

The next subject is Beef, and Beef is such a character in of himself that Zedaph doesn’t even really need to tell him what to do— he’s content to observe through the soundproof glass as Beef goes through the various tasks he’s set. Mumbo, too, is highly independent— though he looks awfully tired, Zedaph notices, marking it down as a note on his clipboard. There’s a certain sluggishness to Mumbo’s movements, and it’s dragging out the series of tests. Zedaph clicks on the mic. “Er, Mumbo? Go ahead and pick up the pace a little bit.” Mumbo speeds up, limbs moving jerkily as they try to keep up with his suddenly galvanized mind. The rest of the tests go by at a much faster tempo, and Zedaph is satisfied with the results. He also marks down a strange and only-just-suppressed urge toward violence from Mumbo, despite the man’s commitment to— what was it again?— right, “Peace, Love, and Plants.”

It’s been a while since the last hermit experiment now, though. For one thing, he hasn’t decided on a new subject. He’s been thinking of giving Xisuma a call and asking him to come over, out of pure curiosity, but it’s not urgent. For another thing, the seismograph has been going absolutely mad lately— there’s been tremors all over the server, with no discernible cause whatever. If this keeps up, Zedaph’s going to have to go out and do some actual field work. 

He shudders at the thought. 

A rapidly pulsing red light blinks on at the top left of the security monitor screen, just a moment before the proximity alarm goes off. Zedaph whirls around and gets a split-second look at Mumbo looming over him like a bespoke string bean before Bdubs tackles him at the waist and he hits his head on the tile floor. The next few moments come through in dizzy flashes: lab lights, far too bright for suddenly sensitive eyes—being picked up and carried, his head throbbing with each step—an uncomfortable heat radiating near his arm, but he can’t muster the words to tell it to go away. 

His stomach suddenly drops and for a moment he flails through empty air before landing with a sickening crunch on the dull white floor. He’s not in instant respawn territory yet, but he’s close, and his kidnappers seem to know this, because he hears shattering glass quite near him, and then comes the bubbly, prickly feeling on his skin that only happens with splash regen and healing potions. 

His headache clears after a moment, and he’s able to get to his feet. “Oh, goodness me,” he says, upon realizing where he is. 

Tango, Bdubs, Beef, and Mumbo all stand on the other side of the tinted glass, wearing lab coats and looking somewhat vindictive. Mumbo’s got a clipboard and pen. 

“This is highly unusual,” Zedaph says, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s procedures for these things, you know. Standards and that.”

Tango steps over to the desk and keys the intercom. “Hey, Zed, ol’ buddy.  I know you’re probably a little confused, here. Let’s just say we didn’t, uh— didn’t appreciate being your little lab experiments very much, my friend.”

“Informed consent is a big part of the scientific process!” Mumbo says, looking up from the clipboard, clearly unaware of the hypocrisy of his statement. The bags under his eyes have grown even deeper since Zedaph last saw him. 

“You signed the waiver when I asked,” says Zedaph, but of course they can’t hear him. They take turns putting him through his paces, making him do— well, frankly, they’re quite silly things. He has much better things to be doing with his day. If he could just talk to them—

“Make a contraption that will blow something up,” says Bdubs, and Zedaph sees his chance. He intentionally builds it just a little too close to the glass— not so close that Tango and Mumbo will be able to realize what he’s doing right away, but close enough that the blast has a chance of damaging the barrier. 

The TNT, when it goes off, leaves his ears ringing and all his nerves buzzing. But as the smoke clears, Zedaph spots a block of glass up near the corner that has shattered, and he giggles. Perfect!

“Bdoubleo,” he calls, and Bdubs turns to look at him suddenly. “Come in the chamber!” Bdubs immediately pulls out his pick and smashes through the nearest two blocks of glass beside him. He steps through the jagged hole and then pauses, looking confused.

“What was that?”

“This is all really very funny,” Zedaph says to the other three “scientists,” and replaces the glass that Bdubs broke, leaving the hole up at the top. The alarm melts off their faces, and they begin to laugh at Bdubs’ predicament. 

“Mumbo,” says Zedaph, and now Mumbo snaps to attention, meeting his gaze through the glass. “I think for the next test, you should have me do something you’ve really, really wanted to do this season but can’t.”

Beef and Tango break out into another round of chuckles.

“Now hold on a minute,” says Bdubs, looking around, panicked. 

“Well,” says Mumbo slowly, lowering his clipboard and taking a step closer to the glass. Zedaph nods encouragingly. “I would like you to… describe… how you would go about killing Bdoubleo using only things in this chamber—”

“Hey!” Bdubs screams.

“—and then do it and tell me how good it feels,” Mumbo finishes, all in one breath. Tango lets out a surprised wheeze of laughter, and Beef is wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. 

“‘Course,” says Zedaph brightly. “Have to do what I’m told in here, don’t I?”

“No, no, no,” Bdubs says, backing away. 

“Come on, Bdubs,” Zedaph coaxes. “Hop up on this dirt block here and stay put.” Bdubs’s face goes slack and he does as Zedaph asks. “Great! Well, Mumbo, the first thing I would do is get him in prime killing position, like so.” He gestures up to where Bdubs is standing, now looking around wildly. Mumbo nods enthusiastically, taking notes down on his clipboard. “And then I would place— er—” He goes digging through the scattered chests in the chamber to find what he’s looking for. 

Oh, perfect. 

“I would place some obsidian,” he says, triumphantly, sticking the block down next to Bdubs.

“No, no— no, wait,” Bdubs says, desperation clear in his voice. 

“You’re killing me, man,” Tango says breathlessly, clutching his ribs. Zedaph tips an invisible hat in his direction and sends him off in gales of laughter again. 

“Yes, yes, go on,” Mumbo says impatiently, pen tapping against his clipboard. 

“And then I would place one of these,” Zedaph says, pulling the end crystal out of his inventory and setting it hovering over the obsidian base. He swears he sees Mumbo’s eyes light up.

“Go on, then,” Mumbo says, leaning forward eagerly. 

“If you say so,” Zedaph says, and detonates the crystal. 

It kills him as well as Bdubs, of course, but that only sends him back to his actual bed, and out of the range of the other would-be scientists. That had turned into rather a fun little tangent, actually. 

It probably went without saying that none of them would want to come back to the lab, though. 

Well. He’d just have to ask.

also on ao3 :D

[findafight]

I’m gonna admit, the whole “Robin and Steve share a girlfriend” thing kind of came to me when I was imagining how Steve and Vickie would get along.

As many people (I think including you?) have pointed out they have pretty much the same sense of humour, and seem to enjoy the same movies.

I see Steve being a “third wheel” on a lot of Robin and Vickie’s dates, in part because of rides and in part to make certain situations look less date-y. Or look more like one of the girls is third-wheeling by holding hands, doing the hand to the small of the back thing. Which sometimes leads to situations where Robin is kind of puppeteering Steve; “Steve, look at Vickie, she’s so cold! I can’t believe you’re not offering her your coat - what kind of boyfriend are you?”

(This comes back to bite her in the my ass a couple times when Steve will loudly announce “Robin, I cannot believe you’re just going to take the slice without offering it to Vickie, what kind of boyfriend are you?”, allowing Vickie to turn the puppy eyes on Robin.

He has done this a couple times in front of the kids, which they all find weird, but also assume it to be either one of Steve and Robin’s *deeply* unfunny inside jokes or part of an argument on the road to the realisation that they are in fact in deep denial about 1. Being in love and 2. That they have gone down a Super Mario pipe, skipped over all the interesting parts of romance and landed in their “old married couple” phase)

It’s all very confusing for Vickie. Like, she gets a kiss on the cheek from Steve so Robin can kiss her on the other cheek under the guise of making fun of the sappy couple - or else she gets a kiss from Robin and Steve gives her a kiss on the cheek to actually make fun of them. But she also gets forehead kisses from Steve to say hello and goodbye - which he doesn’t think is a big deal. He does that to Robin all the time - it would probably be rude to leave Vickie out, right? Or make her feel weird, left out. Things are not helped by the fact that Robin sometimes expresses her love via Steve. If Vickie’s upset, she’ll hug her, but she’ll also make Steve hug her, because he gives the *best* hugs!

Like, yeah, they’re a soul cut in half or whatever, but seriously - is this some kind of test? Does Steve think that she’s going to chest on Robin and is trying to prove it? Has Robin put him up to this because she thinks Vickie needs/wants wooing by *both* a girl and a boy? (She’s recently come out to her younger sister as “bisexual” and one of her questions was “so can you only have threesomes now?” Vickie is *going through it*, folks!)

Eventually she sits them down to try and talk it out, because this morning she woke up wearing a mix of both their clothes and she has some important assignments coming up at school, guys, SHE CANNOT KEEP LIVING LIKE THIS!

(There is a moment of silence as both Robin and Steve both fight to repress the urge to yell at each other that *this* is what that girl Janet that dumped Steve the other week was talking about!)

All hail Vickie, the bisexual who won *and* continued o be a disaster. no one is doing it like her!

omg sooooo good anon. I love this. VIckie is fighting for her life trying to decipher what is going on in her own relationship. is she dating Steve? is she not dating him? is she only dating robin? or both of them? Robin and Steve are weird she knew this going in but this is a bit much, right? and had to sit down for a minute because yes she woke up with Steve's shirt on and robins pants but the she saw Steve wearing her own sweater and robin wearing Steve's pants and so what does this mean? what are they doing? does she want anything to actually change?? (the answer to that she knows is no. She just wants clarity!and also is realizing that yes Steve does give the best hugs but part of that is that is Robin is there too. She's also realizing maybe kissing Steve and holding his hand is something she'd be down for more often!! help her!!)

and if she is also dating Steve she's going to have to live through the mortification of maybe telling her sister, and explaining that just because she's bisexual the throuple situation is NOT an essential part of that it just kinda happened by accident without any of the three of them noticing. and. who wants to admit that let alone to a little sister who Will Not Let It Go? poor vickie....

No one is doing it like Vickie and Stobin is not helping the situation At. All.

[gentrychild]

5 hc au: if you have read csm, an au where Izuku (and cast members of your choice) are devils in disguise? I think it would fit if Izuku was the Quirk Devil, and represents the fear of superpowers

1 - Inko finds a child covered in blood someday and naturally decides to adopt him and to teach him the usual things like "Brush your teeth after you ate.", "Study at school.", "Don't eat people. You don't know where they have been.", "Always remember that your mom loves you." and so on. It's pretty obvious that Izuku is not human and he does feel the urge to grab superpowers here and there but his life is pretty good... until Inko gets really sick. Izuku, who is about 16 at the time, needs money for her treatment. He is recruited by the devil hunters.

2 - Izuku's boss, Akatani Hisashi, is a very creepy and incredibly scary man (well, to most people. Izuku's sense of fear is a little... out of this world). He is actually the first Quirk Devil. Back with All Might's fight, Hisashi came so close to death that a new Quirk Devil was born into hell but the bastard managed to drag himself back from death, creating the very first existence of two Devils sharing the same concept. Hisashi then made a contract with the HPSC... I mean, the government, who were positively drooling at the idea of having such a powerful Devil obeying them. I am certain it will have no unfortunate consequences.

3 - Izuku gets Todoroki Touya as his supervisor. Touya is a hybrid that fused with some kind of Fire Devil (maybe the Holy Flame Devil) that has excellent results on paper but everyone refuses to work work with him. They are soon joined by Touya's brother, Shouto, who has a contract with three Devils and a sword.

4 - Uraraka (Gravity fiend) and Bakugou (explosion fiend) are in another team. Takami Keigo is a normal devil hunter and Touya's sitcom nemesis.

5 - Hisashi fully intends to kill Izuku before too long because even if he is fascinated (and kinda flattered) with the occurrence of another devil sharing his concept, he can't really tolerate someone else like him. He gave him to Touya's team because he knew Touya wouldn't realize the danger Izuku's in.

6 - Yoichi used to be a human guy who had the misfortune of meeting Hisashi.

7 - Izuku can both steal quirks and devil powers. For the latter, he sometimes eats them.

8 - Izuku has the habit of wearing gloves. Inko was a really good mother but she messed up on some points.

9 - This is sadly the AU where Natsuo was accidentally sacrificed to a Devil by his own father.

[formosusiniquis]

Argyle as Steve's bi realization, hear me out.

Steve is used to a certain amount of confusing feelings for people after a lot of close contact, high stress apocalypse stopping. There was the first time with Nancy (and wow Jonathan is actually a pretty cool dude, if he changed his hair a little, maybe stopped taking creep pictures in the woods he could be a really fun to hangout with).

And then there was the second time, and that hurt a little bit more cause Nancy is still just as great. Even when she's moving straight on to Jonathan, who really is just a great dude he's really come into his own and he's got kind eyes even if they are staring at Nancy all the time. It's probably just the residual heartache. Some weird things getting tied up with the only two not children that know about monsters too.

But then there's the third time with Robin. And Steve finally thinks he's figured out what's going on. It's like when you take a girl to a horror movie on the first date, only times a million. Your heart rate is up and your adrenaline is through the roof. Of course he's imprinted on any age appropriate person he's near. He probably did love Nancy, Robin is definitely the platonic love of his life, and that definitely explains all the weird feelings he still sometimes has when he's around Jon for too long. It's all just crossed wires in his traumatized, concussed brain.

By the fourth go around he's got it all figured out. Sure, Eddie is objectively, pretty attractive. Sure, he's great with kids which is like Steve's number one desirable trait he looks for. He's funny, he's got a great smile, he's constantly in Steve's space. But the swoopy feeling in his stomach, the dizzy light headedness. That's all adrenaline and blood loss. Robin isn't an option, he's already done this too many times with Nancy, his brain has found the default all that's left is Eddie Munson. But wow, big boy, that one is… something.

So when all is said and done; and Eddie has claimed to see angels and they all look like Steve Harrington -- he does giggle a little at that, feels the strange urge to kick his feet or twirl his hair. But he's just excited that he's got a new age appropriate friend and that they all made it out mostly unscathed. Any and all blush inducing thoughts and feelings can be easily explained away by the waning stress of a traumatic event and the lingering joy that fuck they really did make it out this time.

But then in the quiet, as the dust settles and they all do their best to find normal again. Jonathan has brought Argyle home to Hawkins.

Argyle who has the nicest hair Steve has ever seen. Whose first words to him are, "Dude, that is a righteous mane you're rocking, do you use oils in your routine cause I really think they'd take you to the next level." Argyle, who manages to convince Dustin 'picky eater' Henderson to try fruit on his pizza. Argyle, who made the best brownies Steve has ever eaten and helped him get high for the first time in nearly a year.

There's no adrenaline to blame this time, no lingering apocalypse.

"Robin, I need to talk to you."

He pulls her away from the rest of the older teen party as quick as he can. Nervous and confused and panicked and excited. For once in their friendship she lets herself be tugged along without complaint, understanding instinctively that this is about to be a bathroom conversation.

"You know how Vickie likes both, guys and girls."

"We do not know that, but I remember your theory."

"Well, she definitely does and I'm pretty sure I do too."

"Oh my god, Steve," she stretches his name out until it echoes, "really, I'm so proud of you. That's so great, wait , who was it? How'd you realize? Oh my gosh was it-"

"-Eddie." "Argyle." they say the names in sync.

"Argyle?" "Eddie?" In sync again even their confusion matches.

"Oh God, Eddie," and with a, mostly, clear head things do start making more sense. Eddie, who is co-parenting the kids with him. Eddie, who always makes sure Steve doesn't neglect his own needs in favor of the rest of the group. Eddie, who watched Steve and Lucas play a pickup game last weekend even though he clearly didn’t get the rules past ball in basket. Eddie, who has been reading Lord of the Rings to him over the phone when the nightmares keep them both awake and they can feel razored teeth and barbed tails clawing at their skin. Eddie, who still hasn't gotten his vest back because the thought of losing it makes something hot and tight clench in Steve's chest. "Robin, Eddie!"

Robin, for her part looks relieved, "Thank God, I did not know how to tell you that I'm pretty sure that Argyle was gonna be another partner Jonathan beat you out for."

And with that name comes another realization, "Oh my god, Robin I had a thing for Byers." He can see the laughter threatening to break through and as the giggles start he actually processes what she said, "wait, Jon and Argyle, really?"

She pushes down her laughter, "Yeah, pretty sure the two of them and Nancy are having a little ménage à trois, if you get my meaning."

"Yeah that French I do know."

Robin let's them sit on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, processing and just sharing each other's company. She let's Steve find just a moments peace before she says, "You know this means you've had a thing for everyone in that room, right?"

He lets her guide him into laughing, just like they laughed together in the Starcourt bathroom. It's easier than getting embarrassed. And anyway she's right, as always, and that feels like a crisis for after he's figured out what to do about his new Eddie problem.

[ozzy-boy]

Poe love languages hcs <3 ough i love him so much....

-Not really a touchy person. He does like physical touch, but not in a typical way.

-Poe's touches are... Almost poetic, like everything about him. They're so purposeful that it brings a certain intensity to even small gestures- like every action is thought out. The tiniest brushes are suddenly heart-pounding.

-Doesn't really go out of his way to hold your hand, but he is the type to touch up your appearance when something is out of place.

-Gently pushing hair out of your eyes or smoothing down flyaways, swiping an eyelash or crumbs off your face with his thumb, tucking the tag of your shirt away if it's sticking out, fixing your make up if you wear any, smoothing wrinkles from your clothing...

-He doesn't make a big deal out of it either. Just quietly reaches over and fixes in the middle of a conversation. His pretty blue eyes leaving yours for only a moment before he hums and urges you to continue talking about your day.

-Can eye contact be a love language? Cause it is for Poe. Y'know the saying about the eyes being the windows to the soul? Well he believes it. Makes so much eye contact.

-If you're laying together, he doesn't go straight for cuddling. No, he ghosts his fingertips down the length of your arm- from your shoulder down to your wrist, then back up again. It's like every time he touches you, he's trying to commit the feeling to memory. Chances are he's writing in his head without even noticing.

-He won't really initiate a lot of contact, but he doesn't dislike it if you do. He's a pretty casual, go with the flow kind of guy, so he'll typically go along with whatever you want.

-Not the biggest fan of PDA, but doesn't mind it. He thinks it's a little funny, actually. Especially if you have an opposite aesthetic as him.

-Loves the idea of people staring in confusion watching a bright, sunny marshmallow like you holding hands with someone like him. If only because he loves to subvert expectations.

-Where Poe shines most is words of affirmation, of course. He's a poet, it's kind of his whole deal.

-You will get endless poems from him. Through text, on scraps of paper, sometimes thoughtfully written with a fountain pen on nice parchment. Sometimes they're fully written poems, while some are just small snippets- a line or two he thought you'd like.

-You're a bit like his editor at this point. His writing is something he keeps close to his heart most of the time, but, well... You are his heart. All Poe's writing gets screened by you before he turns it in to professors or enters it into contests/readings/ect. The highest praise you can get is the fact that he values your opinion.

-His poetry is decidedly more romantic after meeting you... He isn't sure how to feel about that.

-Poe is very aware that he's dour and gloomy, but he always has sweet words for you. He never wants you to doubt just how important you are to him.

-Even if you aren't a writer, Poe will treasure anything you write for him in return. Even if it's the worst poem he's ever read- if you wrote it, he loves it. He'll get it framed.

-Another sure sign that Poe loves you is how much time he spends with you. Quality time is important to him.

-Poe is an introvert, and he doesn't really have many friends. Before you meander into his life, he spends most of his time alone, and he's content with that.

-But now, he spends most of his time with you. He's fairly low energy, so you don't even have to be doing anything. Poe is a big fan of interesting conversations, you can just lay around and talk for hours and he'll be happy.

-If you actually go out for a date, he'll definitely want to lean towards the macabre... Exploring an abandoned building, taking a walk through a cemetery, visiting a haunted house... Although, just going to a cafe sometimes is nice too, even if he's a little disappointed by the lack of skeletons.

-Poe does still need his alone time, but he's good about communicating that with you.

-"I'll be locked in my room for the next 4 hours while I wait for inspiration to strike. Farewell, love, I'll see you on the other side."

-Not very materialistic, so he's not the biggest fan of gift giving.

-He values your time and affection a lot more than how much you're willing to spend on him.

-He appreciates anything you get him, of course, but he almost always follows it up with "You didn't need to get me anything..."

-Poe prefers practical gifts anyway. Things he's likely to actually use, like books or a nice writing pen.

-Although, if you want to get him something he's guaranteed to love, get him jewelry. Rings, necklaces, earrings- even if they're not his 'style', he'll love it. Will wear anything you get him proudly.

-He gives you little trinkets sometimes but they're usually cheap and simple- he doesn't really consider them gifts.

-Swears up and down that he's bad at giving gifts but then he'll turn around and give you something so sickeningly sweet like a hand-bound book of all the poems he's written for you.

-He likes acts of service too- especially doing things for you.

-He wants so badly to paint your nails and do your makeup if you'll let him. Wants to give you a full goth makeover SO BAD.

-If you decide to indulge him, Poe will do everything for you. Scratching an itch while your nails are wet, lacing up long boots for you, fetching something from another room if you're struggling to walk in the platforms he lends you. You'll barely have to move a muscle.

-He likes small tasks like that- little things most people would hardly notice. It makes him feel special, to be the one that gets to wait on you hand and foot. He'd do anything for you, but it's the small details that make butterflies flutter in his stomach.

[formerly-wraith-caller]

Rogier is a character that we meet early on in game, and probably one many of us think on fondly as he is perhaps the first NPC to help us out with one of our toughest battles. His pleasant and friendly demeanor left many players with the impression of a cheerful ray of sunshine in an otherwise melancholic, dreary, duplicitous, or outright hostile cast of characters.

This post seeks to disabuse you of that notion. "Wraith, you dumb bitch," I hear the doubters and the critics say, "not everything needs to be miserable and secretly tragic." And to you I say, welcome to FromSoftware, where yes, everyone dies and it hurts the whole time they're doing it.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

I. A quick recap

The first place you can encounter Rogier is at a summons sign just outside Margit's boss fight. From there, you will meet him again in Stormveil at a church where he is one of a few NPCs that can't be killed. There is cut dialog of him reacting to a player attack, but in game, he's untouchable for some reason. I can only guess at why - perhaps since he is part of two different major storylines, the devs wanted you to be sure to hear what he has to say. After this meeting, you'll see him again at the Roundtable Hold. If you interact with him, he'll urge you to seek out Ranni, he'll tell you a bit about himself and why he's seeking her cursemark, a bit about D, and expound on some history of the Lands Between's most fateful night. Additionally, interacting with a specific bloodstain near the corpse will show you Rogier being deathblighted. Soon after entering Ranni's service, he will die.

II. Detachment and its implications Throughout his questline, Rogier maintains a mostly approachable demeanor. I say mostly, because the initial meeting is a little more standoffish and cautious, which is to be expected when infiltrating the castle of a Tarnished-butchering madman. In fact, Rogier takes a pretty sarcastic tone with us when he says

This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters, you know. They sacrifice our kind, for grafting. Not exactly a place I'd stroll into without a purpose in mind...

and a bit pessimistic/negative when he says

You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace. Well, enjoy it while you can.

This is primarily relevant as a counter to the assumption that he is a perfectly cheerful and perpetually friendly guy. Now, all this is not to say Rogier isn't friendly. He is, very much so. But I am of the mind that this isn’t due to any genuine, innate warmth. I do think Rogier is kind-hearted and compassionate, that he does want for friendship, that he is not secretly scheming against us. Instead I think that he is something of a people-pleaser, a liar, a bit of a manipulator, and that this is not done maliciously but as a sort of trauma response to his past.

"Dear god wraith," I hear you say, "not everyone is secretly traumatized." And I agree! But Rogier almost certainly is, and here's why. From his set:

Rogier spent his entire life behaving with utter detachment. No one noticed the anger, grief, regret, or fear that existed along with it.

Get very familiar with that description, because it's gonna be doing a lot of the heavy lifting in this post. So let's figure this out first: what is detachment and what does that have to do with trauma?

Emotional detachment refers to being disconnected or disengaged from the feelings of other people.

This can involve an inability or an unwillingness to get involved in the emotional lives of other people.

Emotional detachment can sometimes occur as a coping mechanism when people are faced with stressful or difficult situations. In other cases, it can be a symptom of a mental health condition.

Some things which may cause emotional detachment are abuse, neglect, trauma, mental illness, or certain medications. We can probably scratch out that last one, but the rest are all potential explanations. Given that Rogier's set specifies he has lived with this detachment “his entire life", I am inclined to believe that whatever adverse situation he was faced with, it began/occurred in childhood. It could have been abusive/neglectful parenting, some sort of violent/traumatic event he witnessed or was involved in as a kid, or the death of a close loved one such as a sibling or parent. Whatever it was, it was something formative that shaped who he is. How does this "utter detachment" manifest in Rogier's behavior throughout the game? After all, he seems perfectly friendly, and stays upbeat even as he's inching his way towards death! But that's just further evidence of his issues. At no point does he express any of this “anger, grief, regret, or fear” mentioned in his set, even as he’s dying in front of us. If anything, he brushes it off. You'd think someone who is slowly watching their body succumb to what the game itself refers to as a “gruesome fate” would have a bit of a stronger reaction. But no, in fact, he apologizes to us, a person he barely knows, about not being able to stand to greet us, saying:

I apologize for any offence given by my bearing, but I'm quite unable to move, you see. So. What do you need?

There’s also cut content which seems to be part of an encounter at Godwyn’s corpse wherein we meet a freshly injured Rogier. And here he has the same apologetic behavior in spite of his injuries, saying:

Well, this is a bit embarrassing, but things did not go quite as expected.

Not only does he give this astounding underreaction to having been impaled and blighted by deathroot, he doesn’t ask for any help, and is sooner moved to shame than terror over his deadly predicament. He deflects immediately to talk of his research, and informs us of how he’ll be returning to the Roundtable Hold. This is where we begin to see not just his lack of an emotional response to his own problems, but also a degree of people-pleasing behavior. It isn't enough for him to apologize for this imagined offense he's committed, he quickly turns the conversation away from himself. He doesn't doesn't seek out help, or even a little companionship in spite of the absolute horror he's been afflicted with. No, he instead asks after our needs, and continues to offer us lessons in sorcery and history.

The lack of reaction to whatever miseries befall him is seen throughout the rest of our interactions with him. The closest he gets to lamenting his fate is to warn us of Godwyn's corpse:

And...that thing is to blame for the shape I'm in now... I urge the utmost caution. Don't disturb the corpse more than necessary...

And that’s not what he starts off with when we ask him about the corpse, which you would think someone would do when having been injected with death by it. No, he delves into a history lecture instead, once again redirecting from the personal/emotional to the abstract/intellectual. His dialog is almost entirely comprised of his scholarly endeavors, which he has no issues discussing with us. We learn precious, precious little about Rogier himself, but those little bits which slip through paint a less than happy picture.

Take for instance the line, “I once wished to become a scholar.” He mentions spending hours in the archives doing research. What makes him think he isn’t one already? What made him give up on that goal, or stood between him and achieving it when he has shown such tenacity in the pursuit of answers? Remember the cut dialog mentioned in the recap, which would have played if he were slain by the Tarnished? He says on his death:

This is unfortunate. Couldn’t change a thing…

A bit of a reserved response to being murdered if you ask me! Instead of threats or rage, he laments his own inability to change anything, betraying a sense of dissatisfaction with himself. Then of course there is his split with D, who refers to him as “piteous”, and Fia’s mentioning of Rogier weeping when in bed with her. I wish I could say more on this, but essentially everything else Rogier says is about his research, not himself.

These things come together to form a picture of a person who may think very little of themselves. I’d even go so far as to call it self-loathing. We have the anger, grief, regret, and fear mentioned by his set, his disinterest in his own emotional state, his readiness to be of service to others, his desire to be pleasing rather than himself(he’d rather lie to D than upset him). We have his detachment, a coping mechanism indicative of some early trauma. And we have one of a few instances of naked emotion from him in his reaction to being killed by the player. It is not of anger at being betrayed by one of his own kind, it’s not fear or sadness for his own end. It’s frustration, it’s agitation, it’s disappointment, and it is directed entirely at himself for being unable to make a difference. Even if we don’t want to call it self-loathing, these are hardly the signs of a well-adjusted person. Those are hard to come by in The Lands Between, after all.

III. Speculation on the past

So what made Rogier this way? We’re unlikely to ever know, but I’ll throw out my two cents. Let’s look at Rogier’s gear. It’s described as being “graced with an intricate, aristocratic decoration”. His rapier bears a similar description, stating it is “of superior quality, featuring intricate ornamentation”. Taken together, we can reasonably assume that Rogier doesn’t come from an impoverished background. He wears fine clothes, wields a fancy sword, and does not appear to have the backing of any particular faction to finance or supply this. It’s likely Rogier comes from either an aristocratic, or even noble, background. The desire to pursue scholarship, rather than any mention of a life of menial labor, also points in this direction, as does his well-spoken and polite behavior, and his decorum even in the face of his own death.

Which group in the game is comprised of aristocratic sorcerers? The Carians. How does the game commonly indicate associations with certain clans among characters? By use of the first initial in a character’s name. All of Marika’s and Godfrey’s descendants begin with the letters ‘M’ or ‘G’. And Rennala’s with the letter ‘R’. We see this with other NPCs we meet, like Gostoc, Millicent, and Rya, who are related to Godrick, Malenia, and Rykard. This is not to say I think Rogier is directly related to Rennala or her children, considering he's Tarnished and these other 3 NPCs aren't. More that, it is not wholly unfounded to think he is in some way connected with Carians. There are further connections of note, such as his use of Carian sorcery. The only NPCs to employ this class of sorceries are all affiliated with the group somehow – Seluvis and Miriel can both sell us Carian spells by default, while Thops and Sellen only sell glintstone sorceries(thanks to elden_things for pointing this out to me!!). And the most mysterious connection is that of the timing of his slumber and subsequent death, which align closely with Ranni’s own slumber and the defeat of Radahn. The fate of Carians is linked to the stars, and with Radahn’s hold over them surrendered, their fates can no longer be forestalled.

Of course, he makes no mention of any such affiliations, but he mentions very little about himself at all. What we know is that he holds regrets and anger about something, that he is likely of an aristocratic background from a people who practice sorcery, and that he wields a thrusting sword requiring dexterity to wield. Why’s that last thing suddenly relevant? Because all of these together sound similar to the description of the prisoner starting class.

A prisoner bound in an iron mask. Studied in glintstone sorcery, having lived among the elite prior to sentencing.

Some things very suddenly begin to make more sense to me. Maybe Rogier holds regrets over a crime he’s committed, or even one he did not commit but was accused and sentenced for all the same, the consequences of some powerplay among the elite looking to eliminate him from the playing field for whatever reason. Maybe he’s angry over this humiliation, maybe he grieves this loss of his freedom. And if it is a Carian society that did this to him, maybe he’d hold a resentment towards them, a resentment shared by a sect of Raya Lucarian knights symbolized in the form of a feather. Sort of like the one Rogier wears in his hat. Beyond this, he uses the Scholar’s Armament ash of war, an art taught to Cuckoo Knights. “Our enemy is none other than Caria itself,” says the Cuckoo Greatshield item description. Maybe there is room for the argument that Rogier would agree with them. But again, this is all admittedly speculation on my part.

Let’s take a further look at Rogier’s design while we’re on the subject, because it too relates back to the prisoner association in some ways.

(thanks again to elden_things for these images)

On first glance, we’re bedazzled with glintstone and golden hues, the colors so bright and vibrant, especially in comparison with so many other more sedate color palettes seen on many NPCs. But taken as a whole, both color and form, I can’t help but think of the phrase “bird in a gilded cage”. The thing that jumps out to me about his design is the theme of restraint. His costume is full of straps, ropes, chains, items which evoke notions of bondage and imprisonment. He is wrapped from head to toe in clothing, not even his hair left free, cuffed by gold at the ankles, cuffed by frills at the wrist, neck tangled in chains(the long end of the necklace down his back is even reminiscent of a leash), arms lined with glintstone-studded straps, the opulence of nobility becoming symbolic of confinement. It’s noteworthy to me that Rogier aligns so very well with the prisoner class while also sporting clothing that easily reminds us of all the ways a person can be bound.

The color gold in game is very much tied in with the Order, with Marika and the Greater Will. While Rogier is often characterized as someone who opposes the Golden Order due to his split with Darian, his dialog would betray otherwise, something I delve into in this post. In short, he recognizes the flaws and defects of the Order, but actually expresses admiration for its ability to adapt to resolve them. This ability to adapt is in direct contrast to Rennala’s inability to do so – when met with abrupt and devastating change, she breaks, and doesn’t recover. This is another point in favor of Rogier possibly holding some frustrations with Carians. The Order is changeable, can alter itself to meet the needs of the times they live in. Caria simply wilts.

Seeing a glintstone sorcerer, one wearing the hat of a heretic no less, bear the colors of the Order is more than a little interesting in a game where people’s allegiances are generally pretty clear cut. The delightfully detailed Elden Ring colory theory video by hawkshaw speaks of blue as the color of intellect and mind, gold as faith and order. Rogier sports both, reminding me again of Caria, specifically the joining of the Moon and the Erdtree, Rennala and Radagon’s union. Of course, if we hold to the belief that Rogier is related to Carians, there’s another way in which he may remind us of this union between the Order and the Moon, and that is in his time spent with D, Hunter of the Dead.

IV. D and Rogier – “Opposites attract.”

Aside from his history lessons on Ranni and Godwyn, Rogier doesn’t really have a lot to say about anyone else, even himself. In spite of his interactions and shared interests with Fia, the only other person we hear him talk about is D. An old friend, Rogier says with a sort of fondness or melancholy. As with Fia, Rogier bonded with D over an interest in death, and for some unspecified length of time in the past, the two traveled the lands together. Eventually, Rogier’s desire to save Those Who Live in Death became too much of an issue for D, and the pair split.

Theirs is an interesting relationship, whether you want it platonic or otherwise. They’re opposites in a lot of ways. Impulse vs control, pity vs scorn, heretic vs devotee, warm vs cool, elegance vs brutality, mind vs faith, the list kind of goes on, but you see the point. Even after their falling out, the two can get along without acrimony. D tells Rogier about seeing the sign of the centipede in Summonwater. He helps us defeat the Black Knife Assassin in the Death-touched Catacombs, thus making it possible for Rogier to study the knifeprint. Rogier doesn’t speak of D with resentment, or anger, or even much distaste (his tone strays towards sarcasm again when mentioning D’s opinions on TWLID, “these defiled fiends”, but that’s about it). Rogier’s lines about D are generally his most emotional and most personal, and given how very little we get to know about Rogier otherwise, we can assume that the friendship meant a great deal to him.

Between the pair, he’s clearly the more composed about the split. While D freely expresses his disappointments in Rogier, Rogier is more wistful and collected, and does a lot less mudslinging than D. He is the less emotional of the two, however, that’s just par for the course for him. He’s used to keeping things close to the chest, as this is basically what emotional detachment does to you. Emotions aren’t easily expressed or handled, and it becomes simpler to separate oneself from them rather than experience them. And any falling out, whether between friends or lovers, is bound to be emotionally challenging even for someone without such issues.

V. Fia and Rogier – “Birds of a feather...”

There is someone Rogier eventually became comfortable expressing emotions around, even if it’s curious he never mentions her. Fia and Rogier may have a lot in common. Most obvious being their interest in Those Who Live in Death and the history of the night that gave rise to them. But there could be other things, too. Fia's room is full of books, and we know Rogier is a scholar at heart. The two could both be avid readers. If we accept the notion of Rogier as prisoner, he and Fia could bond over what it means to be without freedom and choice. Fia is hounded from her home, and it would seem she may have at some point resented the fact that she would not be allowed to decide which noble she’d be reviving.

Whatever the case, it’s clear Fia and Rogier became close at some point before his death as she tells us how he speaks of the Night of Black Knives while in bed with her, and that this discussion even moved him to tears. This strong reaction from him is especially noteworthy given his lack of emotional response in other, more appropriate areas, such as the knowledge of his own impending death. Is it sadness for Godwyn that has him in tears? Grief for how the Shattering ruined so much for so many? Could it be that in discussing these things with Fia he is also thinking of everything he won’t be able to achieve? Or could it be that he is in some sense overwhelmed not by his grim fate but by her affection, her friendship and care? People with emotional detachment issues can often have immense difficulties making or keeping friends, but here is Fia, whose entire schtick is to offer the utmost selfless care and comfort for others. Wouldn’t that be a little overwhelming to someone unused to that, someone whose life was apparently full of anger and regret, marked by some lasting trauma that’s followed him his whole life and caused him to hold others at arms' length?

Or it could be that he knows all too well another way in which Fia’s just like him, and the misery of knowing her warmth might be false just cut a little deeper than he could handle in a moment so vulnerable as this.

VI. Deceit as defense

It’s odd to me that this is a point of contention among Elden Ring fans, but Fia is, well, kind of a liar by omission. Manipulative, even. And I think Rogier is too. Well, I don’t think, I know. I’ve referenced it multiple times, but his exact words are

I can tell a good lie when I need to.

The context is him desiring to avoid angering D. I’ve mentioned before Rogier coming off as a people-pleaser, this being one of the reasons, as well as the apologetic tone he often takes when speaking with us. Others involve the assumption that he is of aristocratic origins. Politics are a game of rhetoric, and Rogier would’ve been taught to play it. That means being comfortable with lies and knowing how to tell them, or being able to spin the truth to sell your own desires to people who may not share in them. Beyond this, there is his detachment, in which he does his utmost to keep his emotional state to himself. This requires lying, or rather, concealing. Something I’d like to clarify about lies and liars is that we have a tendency to assume this is a malicious trait. I don’t think Rogier acts with malicious intentions at all. I think it is habit, a survival mechanism necessitated by whatever traumatic past he has experienced and/or required for navigating the aristocracy. For the latter especially, the ability to lie and manipulate others would be an endlessly useful tool.

Again, I want to stress that when I speak of Rogier as liar and manipulator, I don’t think it’s something he does to be cruel. He wants something of us, but given his personal issues, he may realize he’s not the best at making friends with others. He may also be hesitant to be indebted to another. Some of his cut dreambrew quest dialog hints at some intense pride on his part. If we were to offer him the dreambrew after he was blighted, he responds with:

No thank you, I don’t need your pity. ...Sorry. You were only trying to be nice. It would be my pleasure to take it.

The immediate adjustment of his tone is an interesting one. From resentful and irritated to perfectly gracious and friendly at the drop of a hat. For someone who can show compassion to some of the most wretched creatures in the Lands Between, who is happy to befriend someone seen as reviled and accursed, to lay with a woman some think of as vulgar, he sure isn’t comfortable with the idea of someone showing that compassion to him. If he gets this irritated by being offered a drink after a (near?)death experience, how would he really handle someone offering to put their life on the line for him?

So he manipulates, because this is far easier for someone(who may be) coming from a background where this is par for the course in how you connect with others. Now we aren’t simply doing him a favor, we’ve been convinced his goal is ours, too. He starts by asking for our help. But notice how each time we go back to Rogier with a little more info, he couches each new and more dangerous request in praise and compliments? We’re superb fighters, we’re trustworthy, we're capable, we’re the only ones who can do this. Rogier knows what he’s asking us to do is risky, and says as much. But he also knows how to flatter, how to shape the conversation to his needs. This isn’t just his quest anymore, it’s ours. This isn’t some favor done out of pity for a dying man, no. He’s convinced you that you want to do this too! Maybe it’s not just us he’s manipulating, but himself, too.

This isn’t to say that Rogier doesn’t care about us, that he’s callous or heartless or doesn’t want to be our friend. I think, at this point, above all else his sights are on his goal. He knows his time is running out, and he may realize he won’t be able to see this through to the end no matter how badly he wishes it were otherwise. I think Fia speaks truly when she says Rogier seemed elated by us helping him. But he also knows how near his death is, and that no matter what he or the player do, there is no future for him.

I know the manipulation angle is a hard sell. “An NPC asking you to help him isn’t manipulation,” I’ve seen people say, and I get it. But in the greater context of Rogier’s character, I think there is plenty of reason to believe he could be inclined towards such behavior, that he is someone far more focused on his goal than building friendships in a life reaching its end, and, knowing well how near he is to death, is desperate to see it through. Plenty of NPCs ask things of me, and I wouldn’t consider them manipulative. But none of them tell me point blank they’re fine with lying to others, either. :)

VII. Conclusion

We don’t get a lot of backstory on the NPCs of Elden Ring. There are breadcrumbs and tiny clues, but so often these little tidbits are implications rather than direct statements. They are open-ended, preserving a sense of intrigue and mystery that invites us to look deeper and do a little puzzle solving. That being said, it’s hard to make any definitive statements about who any of these characters are and what they’re really like. Characters like Rogier make our investigations all the more challenging when they give us reason to believe that they’re practiced in concealment and lies. When do we know what to take what they say at face value? When do we know to take it with a grain of salt? But that’s also part of what makes him so interesting to me. There’s so much potential in his story, and such a variety of possible interpretations. Mine is only one of them, and if you’ve gotten to the end of this, I’d be thrilled to hear yours too!