#code vein side characters

[teddybeartoji]

彡 WEEPING, CARVED OPEN HEARTS

☆. contains: bf!toji fushiguro x gn!reader; mild angst with comfort (they had an argument oh no), toji learns how to apologize, toji is in love wc: 2.3k

your throat is sore and your eyes burn. you're tired and sad and upset and you just want it to be over already. but his sharp words swim laps in your head and you can't think about anything else. the ceiling of your shared living room is the only form of solace at this point, the shadows of the street putting on a show just for you.

the warm light of the lamps that stand tall behind the apartment window use the ceiling as a canvas, the passing cars as little characters running around. you hear hollering – it's saturday night, people are having fun. and you're curled up on the sad couch with a sniveling nose.

you hear steps and the bathroom door clicking shut and you use the moment to grab your stuff; a pillow, a blanket and a change of clothes – the very same sad couch will be your best friend tonight.

he turns on the water and you stand behind the door, longingly staring at the wood, wishing the night had gone differently.

but it didn't. so, you put on your pyjamas and sink into the couch. letting a few last tears fall from your eyes, you try to get some rest.

try.

while you're cocooning yourself away from the world, toji is staring at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. hands splayed on the cold countertop, his head hangs low and the running water turns into a muffled sound in his ears; dark strands of hair fall in front of his exhausted eyes, and he too, can't stop thinking about his own words.

regret fills his veins, threatening to explode under his skin. he can't tear his eyes from the disappearing reflection, the steam covering up more and more of the glass, hiding his guilty stare. his heart beats in morse code, calling out your name with every breath he takes but he's still stuck in this tiny shrinking room while you're out there – in the dark, in the cold, drowning in the impact of his words. he didn't mean them, he didn't. toji squeezes his eyes shut and his head drops to his chest. he thinks about your trembling hands and your shaky voice.

a sigh.

a miserable one.

he drops his towel and stands under the hot water. the warmth takes him in but it's nothing compared to you. the droplets comb through his hair but it's nothing compared to you. they cascade down his scarred shoulders and the muscles of his back, but it's nothing.

compared to you.

the smell of the shampoo makes him want to vomit. your shampoo. his shampoo. he rubs at his scalp and lets the suds drip over his face. he scrubs his body and he wishes he could do it harder. he hopes that you're sleeping well. no, he doesn't. he wants to say goodnight to you.

he tilts his head up towards the shower head and closes his eyes, letting the water run over his neck and his adam's apple, washing away all of the remaining ugly words that might've still been lurking in his throat.

he turns the water off and steps out. only throwing on his sweatpants, he doesn't even bother drying himself off, he just needs... you. he needs to hold you, he needs to hear you. he needs to feel his heartbeat.

one step out of the bathroom and toji can already see the corner of your blanket hanging from the edge of the couch. he fists the material of his pants at his side as he breathes out. it hurts. slowly, he approaches your bundled up body, trying to figure out whether you're already asleep or not. your face is hidden in the pillow, your back facing him and he just wants to see you.

"leave me alone."

it hurts.

his head falls back, his eyes raking over the faint shadows on the ceiling. a car honks on the street below, the wind blows behind your cracked open window. his chest feels heavy, his shoulders hurt.

"why aren't you in bed?"

quiet. you think about not answering. you thought about not talking to him throughout the entire night, but now that he's here... it's harder than you thought.

"because you're mean. and you hurt my feelings." your fingers dig into the pillow under your head. "and i don't want to fucking see you."

his knee cracks when he squats down beside you. his fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair, to pull you into his body and never let you leave.

"well, thank god you can't see anything when yer sleeping then, hm."

he's infuriating. he sounds tired. you want to slap him, you want to push him away. you hate that you can hear strain in his voice. you want him to say that he's sorry. you want to hold him. you want him to show that he cares.

leaving the safe confines of the warm blanket, you whip your head towards him. the light coming from the outside is barely enough to show you his eyes. they're soft, softer than you've ever seen them before. a dark forest; the green circular windows are pleading for you. please, don't be scared of what's inside.

"no arguments for the first two statements?"

you're a inches away from bumping your nose against his, your warm breath hitting his skin as you scoff. the pain is still there, slowly but surely turning into anger but he understands.

"i'm– trying, yeah?"

your eyes flick between his, searching for... something.

"why is your own pride more important than my feelings, toji?"

...

he fucking hates the way you're looking at him. loathes.

you look exhausted too, eyes swollen from all of the crying from before and now there are fresh tears forming in the corners of them.

because of him.

why is his pride more important? it isn't. it isn't, it isn't, it isn't. and yet... silence. something scratches in his throat – it wants to get out but it's hard. a drop rolls over the apple of your cheek and his head falls against your shoulder with a sigh. you don't push him away, you don't invite him in either. why is it so hard for him?

"i just feel like you don't care at all sometimes. when you refuse to apologize – it seems like we're competing against each other but i don't even know what the game is."

your voice is shaky and you're doing your best to come off as composed as you can because you want him to hear you out. you're scared he's going to brush you off. again.

he fiddles with the edge of your blanket, his weight heavy on your body.

"apologizing doesn't make you weak, you know. you're not losing anything – toji, we're not competing over anything. it would simply show that..." you take a big breath in, and let a big one out. "it would show that you do care. that you listen to me, that you want me here."

somebody laughs in the distance. toji smells so good. you close your eyes and focus on what you're about to say.

"it's okay for it to be hard, i don't expect you to spill it right away but it is important to me. i need to know that you're not just dusting away my feelings just because you find them difficult to deal with."

pulling your one hand from under the covers, you let it dig into his wet dark locks. your shampoo, his shampoo.

"but if they are too difficult to deal with..." you trail off, your own thought making more tears fall from the corners of your eyes. he buries his forehead into your body as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck and you feel his fingers digging into your blanket.

"don't say that... fuck– please, don't say that."

"i can't do it like this, toji. i'm not gonna apologize for being emotional. i'm not gonna apologize for being myself, for being alive." you hiccup. "i'm not gonna apologize for not being a brick fucking wall."

"i know, sweetheart, i know."

"do you?"

his teeth sink into his bottom lip and he thinks about your smile. about how your eyes shine in the warm sunlight. how you cling to him even when in your sleep. how you keep ruffling his hair even though he pretends to hate it. how cute you look when you steal his massive sweatshirts. how comforting your voice sounds, how well your hand fits into his. how intently you always listen to him, how you wash his back after a long day at work. how stupid your jokes are. and how much he lo—

...

how much he loves you.

your fingers comb through his hair and you're still coddling him despite the fact that you're upset. and sad, and angry. he thinks about how he doesn't deserve you. how you'd be better off with someone else.

he feels you falter, just a bit, and he knows he's wasting time. you're tired and you want to sleep and you want to feel his love. you want to hear it. and nothing gets to be more important than you. he makes that promise in his head, in his heart.

his sun, his moon, his stars. the smell of coffee in the morning and the feeling of your arms around his waist. his everything.

"i'm..."

fuck.

you turn your body, now fully laying on your back, and pull his head against your chest. he listens to your heartbeat and his hands snake around your middle.

"i love you."

he knows for a fact that you're too good for him.

he hasn't even said it yet but you're determined to let him know how you feel. he knows it's not meant as an encouragement either – you're completely bare before him; honest and straightforward, meagerly waiting for him to do the same. hoping he'll do the same. he's not stupid, he knows your patience is running low but you're still trying. still giving him the chance to do right by you because you want him to do right by you.

he gives you a squeeze, nuzzling his face into chest as if he could somehow reach your ribcage that way. he knows his rough hands have to work overtime to hold your big delicate heart and he's scared.

but your heart is probably scared too, isn't it? wouldn't it be scary to be held by these calloused hands; hands that only know pain and hurt?

this is how it goes. you're both scared and you'll both hold each other. whispering praise into the other's ears, regardless of the fear of getting hurt. trust – it's about trust.

i love you. you make me feel safe. stay with me. let me get that for you. let's shower together. i made you coffee. i want you to come with me. hold my hand. kiss me. hug me. hold me. i want you.

i trust you.

"i'm sorry."

...

muffled, and spoken into your skin – it's enough. it's more than enough for you.

soft, warm hands cradle his jaw and raise his head from your chest. soft, warm eyes hold his gaze and he knows his on the right path.

"fuck–" a shaky laugh; his own emotions are swallowing him whole and you're the only thing holding him up. he watches your lips curl up and relief takes over. he melts into your touch and you guide him to your lips.

you hold him there for a moment – noses touching, breaths mingling together. "thank you."

a bear hug, a high-five, a burst of laughter. an ocean wave – intense, and a lot. freeing. the feeling washes over him and he lets himself sink into you. lips against lips, chests against chests, hearts against hearts; without parting from you, toji climbs onto the couch, resting his entire body on top of yours. you don't complain.

he breathes you in and you do the same. he leans to the right and you do the same. he keeps you close and you do the same. his hand kneads the soft flesh of your waist and your hand rakes through his still wet hair. it feels right. it is right.

toji scrambles to push the blanket from between your bodies, desperate to rid of the barrier that's keeping him from his beloved. his rough hands push your shirt up just enough to feel your skin against his. he sighs into your mouth and he feels you smile against him.

your hands clasp behind his neck, pulling him flush to you and you hook your leg over his hip. latched together, forged together.

"i love you." a murmur, accompanied by a kiss to the corner of your lips. he places another onto the curve of your jaw before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

you turn your head and press your lips to his forehead. "i love you, too."

he's warm and his arms feel so good around you. he's heavy, borderline crushing you under him but you wouldn't have it any other way. you're also a breath away from falling off the couch but you know he wouldn't let you do that. not today at least.

right now, toji is determined to keep you safely in his arms until one of you is dying of hunger and thirst. absolutely nothing else will make him move – he just might let you piss your pants if it comes to that.

for the sake of love, of course.

[onyxdaze]

Weird

Sebastian x f.Reader

Sebastian is jealous.

minors do not interact ~ 18+ content

Rested on a sturdy wooden lawn chair, you tilted your head against the backrest and gazed up at the sky. A backdrop of black draped in bits of shimmering silver. The symphony of the passing summer night played, and you lent it a grateful ear. Orchestrated by the moon, the trill of chirring crickets, clicking frogs and the occasional, well-appointed screech of an owl wavered in the night like a timid, shaking hand.

I’m sure the sound of the frogs makes Sebastian happy, you thought. And lowered your head before turning it until your cheek touched the cedar backrest and you faced Sebastian. Who had been quieter than normal today.

Your eyes settled on the pointed tip of his nose. Then the glass, bone-white skin flooded by a black sea of hair. It took him a second to notice you. His night-sky eyes drifting across your face while a warmth in your chest swelled. Sebastian’s full, cherry blossom pink lips stretched into an honest smile.

“Vincent seemed to enjoy himself at the egg hunt today,” Maru spoke while adjusting the settings on her telescope. The sound of her sweet, small voice captured your attention. “Even if he didn’t win,” she uttered in a hushed whisper.  

“Yeah well,” agitated, Sam squirmed in his seat and spoke to the back of Maru’s head, “Vincent could’ve won if Abby didn’t have some sick egg fetish.” Sam narrowed and pointed his piercing blue eyes at Abby, speaking louder now. “Or is beating children at a children’s game what you like best?”

Abby smirked, leaning into her chair with both her arms laying on the wooden planked armrests. She pressed her brows together, pretending to mull over Sam’s question. “Mmm, both,” she decided and relaxed her brows.

“Competition grows character,” Alex added, lifting his muscular arm in the air for a brief moment. His palm flat like a referee calling to end a match. You were the newest resident of Pelican town, having arrived a year ago. And it had been long enough to realize how quick Alex was to diffuse any matter of conflict. Even if Abby and Sam bickered like this all the time.

“Not when they are children,” Sam scoffed, and laughter bubbled in Abby’s chest and popped in the air.

“Oh!” Maru gasped, peering through her telescope, “a planet.”

“Where?” Sam shouted, scurrying to Maru’s side. Crouching down next to her small, bony frame that mimicked her half-brother’s stature.

“Here,” Maru’s mahogany hair shifted as she pulled away from the telescope and offered the eyepiece to Sam. “Do you see it?” she asked him.

“Uh huh,” Sam murmured while peeking through the telescope. His head bobbing up and down. Maru glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes trailing from Sam’s empty chair, to Abby, Alex, you, and then Sebastian. The six of you gathered outside her family’s home. Situated on the small, fenced-in patio placed outside the addition Robin had built for Maru’s room.

“Are your parents in town?” you asked Sebastian. He hadn’t talked for a while now, and you were starting to miss the sound of his voice—a low rumble like distant thunder that clapped in your mind. Still smiling, he stared at you. You watched as the realization you had spoken dawned on him. Splashes of pink crept along the apples of his cheeks and he looked away.

“Yeah,” he paused, pawing at the back of his neck. Avoiding your gaze while your eyes outlined the jutted veins on the back of his hand. “They’re helping clean up.”

“Which is code for getting drunk,” Abby explained, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes shut and body reclined in her chair. Sunbathing in the moonlight. That must be how she keeps her ghostly, ivory complexion, you figured. “Whaddya think all our parents talk about when they drink?”

Alex’s thick brown brows lowered. And the green eyes that mimicked the shade of mint Evelyn grew in her herb garden, stared past his Greek nose and cleft chin. You knew that look. It was the look of a battleship sailing on a quiet, still night.

“About how dumb you are,” Sam’s brash answer followed after a quick glimpse at Alex’s bronze face.

“Hey!” Abby’s eyes flew open and her back straightened. Sam caught Abby’s glare and glanced at Alex. Coaxing Abby to do the same. “Oh,” she mumbled, leaning back in her seat. “I guess I can be pretty dumb sometimes,” she announced before erupting in a fit of nervous laughter.

“Sam, look!” Maru nudged Sam’s shoulder. And the two continued to examine the sky together. Abby took a peek at Alex before shutting her eyes again.

“Uh,” Sebastian tugged at the worn cuff of his hoodie, “how’d you like the festival?” His eyes fixated on the frayed ends of dark purple cotton while he struggled to push the words out.

“You must be so hot in that hoodie,” you remarked, watching him pick at it. His face beet red.

“Um,” Sebastian chuckled. His voice cracking. The hoodie made him feel less anxious, and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to anyone. Let alone you.

“I almost forgot!” Alex boomed, stomping his foot on the ground. His outburst extinguished the tinder of conversation Sebastian was desperate to kindle. Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket and Sebastian swallowed hard as your focus shifted. “Pictures from Dusty’s birthday party!” Alex beamed. His chiseled face and strong features glowing with pride, he held his phone up to your face. His thumb hovering above the screen and his eyes on you.

Alex needs to find something else to look at, Sebastian fumed inwardly. His jaw clenched. Alex had been flirting with you all day at the egg festival. And every time Sebastian tried to talk to you, Alex interrupted him. Sebastian knew Alex was only hanging out with them to be with you. He had overheard Penny, tell Maru, that Alex thinks Sam and him are weird.

“So cute,” you squealed, holding your cheeks in the palm of your hands, “look at that little hat.” Sebastian’s chest tightened at the sight of Alex’s smug grin and half-closed eyes.

What if Alex tells you he thinks I’m weird and you believe it? Sebastian’s thoughts made him queasy. You were the first person in a while who made him feel important. Will Alex make you forget about me? Will you stop hanging out with me?

“Check this out,” you added, taking your phone from your pocket, “this is my cat, Miso.” You held your phone in Alex’s line of sight.

“Aw,” Alex cooed. “Hey, I don’t think you have my number,” he commented, rubbing a piece of his brown, spiked hair.

Sebastian’s hands tightened into fists.

“Is it cool if I give it to you? You know,” Alex paused to think, “in case you need help with the farm or something.”  

“Sure,” you smiled, and Sebastian’s heart wrenched. “Here, add it,” you moved to pass Alex your phone. He reached out to take it from you.

Competition grows character, Alex’s words plagued Sebastian, playing in his mind. His grip on the downpour of jealousy and frustration that pounded on him loosened. A crushing pain in his chest that stung. Before he could gain control of his emotions, he had stood and snatched your phone away from you. Now towering between you and Alex.

A small, soft grunt rolled past Sebastian’s lips, realizing what he had done. His eyes flickered between your phone in his hand and the scowl on Alex’s face. Nervous, Sebastian shoved the phone into his pocket, pushing aside his carton of cigarettes.

“Have a smoke with me?” was all Sebastian could muster. His shiny black eyes pressing down on you, pleading.

“Yeah,” your tone gentle. You didn’t understand what was going on with Sebastian, but you knew he had been moody and quiet all day. Maybe he needs someone to talk to, you considered.

“Cool,” Sebastian muttered, taking both his phone and yours out of his pockets. You stood and waited for Sebastian while he set both phones down on the armrest of your unoccupied chair. Determined for your time together to be uninterrupted. As he lifted his hand away from the armrest, he noticed Alex staring at him. Sebastian glowered, and Alex’s eyes widened.

Alex had heard his fair share of tales about the black-eyed deities with sinister intentions from his Yoba-loving grandparents. And had always found Sebastian’s charred eyes to be disturbing.

“What?” Sebastian sneered.

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head side-to-side and held the flats of his palms up for Sebastian to see.

Annoyed Alex had taken it upon himself to be here, Sebastian joined your side. And the two of you wandered outside the borders of the brown picket fence.

The wet grass squished under the weight of your footsteps until you stopped at the lakeshore. Sebastian’s clumsy hand fumbled inside his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. He stuffed the white stick in his mouth and held his cupped palm above the tip of it. You watched him bow his head. Blades of obsidian hair fell forward, and patches of pale skin peeked through them. He flicked his black, plastic lighter and an orange flame appeared. Your presence always accompanied by a persistent prickling, popping inside Sebastian’s stomach. He lit the white strip and inhaled, the cigarette twitched and then it was still. Then his whole body was still and calm for the first time tonight, and he picked the burning paper away from his mouth between two of his fingers. His lips shining and velvet pink like the petal of a cherry blossom touched by the rain. A flood of smoke poured from his mouth and formed thick, grey clouds that stretched themselves thin.

“Everything okay?” you asked. Your weak smile and downturned brows made Sebastian’s body feel heavy. He hated to see you worried.

“Yeah,” the tenderness in his voice felt like a flame quivering inside you, spreading heat through your body. He kept his eyes on the lake. The moon’s steel reflection trembling in wavering waters. Afraid if he looked at you for too long, he might give himself away. And you’d be repelled by the painful amount of desperation and longing that tormented him. You followed his line of sight and stared at the lake.

“Is there something out there?” Your question spawned a mischievous smile that lifted Sebastian’s cheekbones.

“Huh…I think I saw something dark moving in the water…,” he tapered off into a menacing silence. You blinked, then strained your eyes. Failing to see the ominous creature. Squinting, you moved closer to the lake’s edge.

 “I can’t see it,” you whined. Crouching down, you balanced yourself on your forefeet.

She wouldn’t last long in a horror movie, Sebastian supposed, leaning over you. He breathed in. The sweet floral scent of your hair tickled his nose, and he moved closer.

“Are you sure? It’s right there and it’s big,” he teased. Content to stay perched above you for the rest of the night. Determined, you tilted your body forward.

“I still—,” your balance faltered. You opened your mouth to scream, but instead a pitiful squeak toppled past your lips. Driven by instinct you latched on to Sebastian. He groaned as he tumbled forward. The force of your bodies hitting the water produced a loud smack.

Fully submerged in the lake your eyes scanned the water in a frenzy. Terrified of whatever Sebastian had seen. You felt something yank the back of your shirt, so you swam to the surface. Beads of water dripped down your face while you caught your breath.

You followed Sebastian to the bank of the lake and the two of you lifted yourselves out of the water.

“You alright?” Sebastian asked, pushing his wet hair away from his face. You sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder on the grass.  

“Yeah,” panicked you stared down into the water, “is it still there?” He raised his brows and then lowered them.

“No,” he chuckled. “I said that to scare you.”

“Oh,” you sighed, relieved. “But why?” Sebastian shrugged.

“I don’t know, why do you talk to that Alex guy?” It felt more like an accusation than a question. Confused, you narrowed your eyes and knitted your brows.

“He seems nice enough,” you responded, and Sebastian was quiet. “There’s like twenty people to talk to,” you explained in your defense, clutching a piece of your soaked shirt and squeezing it. Unsure as to why you needed a defense.  

“But do you like him?” Sebastian blurted, inwardly horrified by every syllable but powerless to stop. He had been overtaken by an all-consuming need to know.

“He’s cool, I guess,” you stared at Sebastian’s frustrated expression with your own. Is, is he… jealous? Your face softened. He looked away from you, clearly upset. And you started to put the pieces together. You had always assumed his shyness stemmed from anxiety, and Sebastian had never given you a reason to think otherwise. “Have you been mopey all day because I’ve been talking to Alex?”

“No,” Sebastian muttered, “well, yeah.” He changed his mind, his voice just above a whisper. Still avoiding your gaze.

“Hey,” you reached out and brushed your fingertips against his neck. He turned his head and his eyes bore down on you, full of shame and fear. You let your palm press down on the side of his neck and pulled him toward you. Sebastian’s shoulder cradled yours and your heart throbbed. A tingling static crackled in your belly. You closed your eyes and titled your head slightly. And felt Sebastian’s lips on yours. He cupped your face with his hands, pulling you into him and leaning further into the kiss. A lustful ache stirred inside you, coiling itself tightly and tugging at you. Your eyes fluttered open as the two of you parted.

Sebastian let go of you and his arms fell to his sides. Reaching under his thigh, he pinched himself. To make sure this was real and not another dream. Feeling punch-drunk and fuzzy, he gave himself a moment to take it all in.

The two of you stared at each other. Your hand still on his neck.  

Silence followed and a rush of panic overtook you. What if kissing him was too much? Did you misread the situation?

You started to move your hand away, but Sebastian held it in place. And lowered his head to kiss you again. His body hot despite the cool, drenched clothing that clung to his skin. It was vindicating, to know you felt the same. That you weren’t interested in Alex. Who Sebastian was certain had a head as full of air as the gridballs he worshipped. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth and blood rushed to the tip of his cock. Causing a primal urge to scream inside him, commanding him to climb on top of you. But Sebastian didn’t want to risk moving too fast and scaring you off. He pulled away, holding your hand in his. Taking your fused hands, he rested them on his thigh. Fighting the inner desire that screeched for him to place your hand on his dick.

Faces close, the two of you shared the same air. Each breath felt thick, intoxicating. Your mouth reached for Sebastian’s and your hand slid away from his to paw at his crotch. A guttural moan vibrated in his throat as your hand wrapped around his cock. Sebastain turned his head and buried it in the crook of your neck. You squeezed his hard dick and his body jerked. Pressing his lips to your skin, he muffled the whine you drew from him. Hesitant, Sebastain pried your hand away from his lap.

“Let’s go inside,” he whimpered, lifting his head up.

“Okay,” you mouthed, pressing your forehead against his. You gave him a quick peck on the lips and Sebastian held his body still for a moment. Then slowly stood.

You followed him to his house, both your footsteps heavy. Water dripping onto the wooden floors. Neither of you said a word as Sebastian led you down to the basement and rushed you into his bathroom.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he buried his hands underneath your shirt and pulled it over your head. It smacked against the bathroom tile when he threw it on the floor. Pressing his body into yours, he grabbed your waist and pushed your ass against the cabinet beneath his sink. Your wet skin clung to his hands. His mouth latched onto yours and moved in eager, synchronized movements. Engulfed in the scorching desire to bury his fat cock deep inside your pussy, Sebastian grinded his hips against yours.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he moaned, breathing next to your ear. The warmth of his breath clouded your mind. And a blistering, fervent pang of longing ricocheted throughout your body.

“Yeah,” you whined, pushing your cunt against his clothed, hard cock. Stupid with desire.

“Mhmm,” Sebastian hummed. He closed his eyes while you kissed his neck, parting your lips and circling his skin with your tongue.

“Off,” you grunted, tugging his hoodie. Sebastian took a step back and peeled his soaked hoodie and t-shirt off his body, discarding it on the floor. His toned arms and slender body visible. His alabaster skin smooth and freckled. You moved toward him, preparing to get on your knees. But Sebastian had other plans. Grabbing both your arms, he turned you around and pushed you back towards the sink. Pressing his bare chest against your back, he circled his arms around your waist and reached for your shorts. His hands shaking as he fumbled with the gold button, eventually getting it loose and pulling both your shorts and underwear down to the floor.

You looked into the bathroom mirror hanging above the sink. And so did Sebastian. Your eyes met in the mirror. Sebastian’s face next to yours.

He stared at your chest, your tits heaving with your breath. Squeezed together inside a black pushup bra. Your face and neck pink. He kissed your cheek and ran his fingers across the skin between your belly button and your pussy. Your breath stuttered as he slid his fingers between the lips of your cunt. They moved with ease through the silk film of want that coated your pussy. He held his breath, desperate to hear the sound of your wet cunt sucking on his fingers. You pressed your back into him, mewling as he pumped two fingers inside your hole. Pushing his hard cock into the fat of your ass.

“Please,” you sobbed, body writhing against his. Eyes shut tight. “I want to feel you.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, his mind buzzing. His fingers lazily rubbing your clit. The back of your head dug into his shoulder as you leaned against him, harder. Rubbing his clothed cock with your ass.

“Bend over,” his voice hoarse. You bent your torso over the sink, elbows resting on the white ceramic. Sebastian watched as you lifted your leg up to the sink. Your pussy glistening and on display for him. He swallowed hard. And stared at the white, spackled ceiling for a moment. Attempting to gain his bearings. Afraid if he didn’t at least try to calm down, it’d be over as soon as it had started.

“Sebastian,” you whimpered. The warm blood in his cock stirred at your beckoning. And Sebastian succumbed to your request. Pulling his pants and boxers down and stroking his cock in his hand.

You watched him play with himself in the mirror. Sebastain rubbed the tip of his drooling cock with is thumb. The precum gushing from his slit, stuck to the pad of his thumb.

He moved toward you, easing his dick inside your pussy. Watching your flushed face drown in pleasure. Your moans loud and unhinged while he pushed himself inside you, crying out for him. Nearly toppling him past his limits. He reached out and grabbed your hair at the root.

“Quiet,” he grunted. His cock thrusting in out and out of your needy hole. That squeezed every inch of his dick. His belly tight. Sebastian leaned against your back and kissed your shoulder blade. “Only I get to fuck you,” he grumbled. His pace faster now. One hand desperately clutching at your hips. While the other pulled your hair. “Only I get to fuck you,” he repeated himself, louder.

“Mmm, yes, only you,” you cried through choked moans. His breaths became shorter and quicker. The sensation of your cunt milking his cock made him feel as though he had been reduced to a pulsating nerve. Everything felt so sensitive. His body burning. Sebastian cried out, his legs trembling as he came inside you. Filling your pussy with his hot cum. He laid, hunched over you for a second. Then slowly let go of your hair and pulled his spent cock out of you. His eyes followed the sight of his seed dripping from your pussy down your thigh. His breathing sporadic.

“Stay away from Alex,” he huffed.

[oneoftheextras]

Inevitable | j.t

masterlist | help me fund my surgery

paring: ex!jayce talis x gn!reader

summary: you see jayce again for the first time after he cheated, he seems genuinely sorry.

words: 2.9k

warnings: 18+, heavy angst, cheating, this is just pain ngl, alcohol, no pronouns, no y/n

use code READER10 to get 10% off of handwritten character letters

Maybe if you kept your gaze on the ground then it would be okay. No. That would make you look weak and pathetic, and the last thing you wanted him to see you as was weak and pathetic.

It was Progress Day and your attendance at the assembly was a government issued requirement. That was the only reason you were sat in the uncomfortable metal chair, facing a barren stage with a podium as the singular dressing.

The only thing you'd have to do is sit and listen to Heimerdinger's speech, that would inevitably blow smoke up Jayce's ass, inflate his ever-growing ego and conveniently neglect the hard work Viktor contributed to Hextech, and then you could go back to your life.

The obnoxious fanfare died down and Councillor Kiramman's voice began to sound over the speakers, her gentle British accent easing the crowd into the ceremony's celebrations.

These things usually only lasted five or ten minutes, you could last that long before crawling back into the normality of your own home.

"Please, join me in welcoming to the stage-" her voice sounded and the crowd began to buzz again with excitement. You rolled your eyes cynically, all this over something that happened every year and rarely did they have anything to show for it, “-Jayce Talis!” she proclaimed triumphantly.

Your blood ran cold and your heart sank, the frosty thick liquid running through your veins icing over the organ to increase its weight threefold.

“What?” you found yourself whispering aloud in disbelief, your words lost in the sea of cheers and orchestral accompaniment. It was Heimerdinger that gave the yearly speech, you must have heard her wrong.

But then he emerged from the steps leading to left, his pace slow to begin with, then a hurried jog up to the stage level and a humble smile put him in full view of the whole of Piltover.

A glacial shiver went down your spine. Even though you were a few rows back from the front, you could see the shining lights reflecting pride and accomplishment in his irises. The amber colour as resplendent as his undeserved title of ‘Golden Boy’.

He held out his fist and waved to the crowd passionately as he made his way towards the podium, clipboard in hand. He seemed genuinely happy and it made you want to be sick.

The feeling of nausea bubbled in your stomach and up to your throat, leaving your mouth feeling dry and brittle. Then the nausea was escorted by anger; he wasn’t allowed to be happy, not after what he’d done.

It was bad enough that you’d had to walk through the streets of Piltover with the cartoonish image of his face on every banner and blimp, but to actually see him was unbearable. The people of this city praised him like he was the best thing since sliced bread, and the only thing you could do was watch him drink it all in as if he hadn’t ruined any semblance of contentment you’d been able to find within yourself.

It was doomed from the beginning really. Him; a Piltovian from a respectable family, and you; a Zaunite, who’d earned their way Top-Side through hard work and perseverance. He’d told you that it didn’t matter that you were from the Undercity, that he loved you regardless of your birthright, that you were perfect in every way in his eyes.  

And you were stupid enough to believe him.

You’d allowed yourself to settle into the mundane routine of being Jayce’s partner. Watching him work in the lab or in the forge, little coffee dates to cafes you’d never be able to afford but was cheap to the bank of Talis, reading together in silence - you’d even become friends with Viktor.

Loving him came easily to you, like it was a second nature, but receiving it from him was difficult. Not because he didn’t show it, but because you had a hard time believing that someone like Jayce wanted someone like you. 

Your gut told you that it was too good to be true, that your perfect little pocket of happiness was built out of paper mache and the smallest drizzle of rain would erode the foundations and melt everything you’d constructed together into nothing but a formless mulch.

It didn’t just drizzle, it was a torrential downpour.

“Uh, good evening!” his voice echoed throughout the hall over the speaker system, and you had to pull on every single thread of willpower you had not to verbally reply with ‘It’s not a good fucking evening, Ja-’. The main motivator being that in doing so would mean saying his name, something you hadn’t been able to do for a while.

He cracked jokes that people laughed at and spoke with the charisma of someone born to rally people together. The gentleness of his voice that you used to love so much now felt like nails on a chalkboard; your mind urged you to stand and walk out of the hall as a way to protect your heart from any further cracks in the already fragile surface, but your legs wouldn’t cooperate.

“No one in my life expected very much of me,” he spoke solemnly. Pausing for a moment and finally giving you the courage to glance at his face instead of the golden embellishments of the blue podium he stood behind, but he was looking back at you. 

Mentally, you’d automatically replied to his statement: ‘I did’. His eyebrows were slightly lifted, creasing the skin between them, and his lips remained parted as if he’d picked up on your thoughts and seemingly forgotten his next line.

He blinked a few times and broke eye contact with you to read his notes, and the performance was back on. The peek into that sincerity you’d fallen in love with quickly being sealed by the facade of a perfect man Piltover needed him to be. He stepped in front of the podium and declared promises of a brighter and secure future, letting the audience whistle and applaud him as he exited the same way he’d entered. If only they knew how hollow his promises really were.

You knew something was wrong but chose to ignore the signs that he was growing disinterested. Questions of; “Are we okay?”, quickly turned into, “Do you still want me?”, to which he would always respond with “Yes.”

Lying came to him as easily as a wasp to honey, that was his second nature. 

There was something bittersweet about the ignorance of not knowing the betrayal of being replaced. To be so completely unaware that your silhouette was being reshaped to fit the mould of another whilst you still housed it, but to feel every bend of your outline all the same.

You held onto him for as long as you were able. Your grip indenting itself into the part of his soul that you thought belonged to you, only to find that the divots and ridges no longer fit your fingerprints.

In hindsight, the mind games you played with yourself were laughable - you were so desperate to prove your instincts wrong, but Jayce in all his confidence became sloppy and you couldn’t pretend not to see the truth any more. 

Not when she was sleeping next to him, her head resting on the pillows enclosed in the cases you’d picked out for him and her hands gripping the blanket you’d left at his apartment the first time you’d stayed the night. The worst thing was his arm draped over her waist, holding onto her like she was the most precious thing in the world, the same way he used to hold you.

“J-Jayce?” your meak voice carried across his bedroom, but he didn’t stir. They both seemed so content together, unaware of the rapid pounding against your ribs and the two tonne stone that had caved in your chest and dragged all your internal organs into your stomach.

A peacefulness that you would never know again.

You flicked the lights on and their eyes immediately squinted at the brightness of it, and you had a front row seat to watching Jayce’s sleepy brain slowly realise exactly what was happening.

First came the stuttering, then the ‘It’s not what it looks like’, then the begging - after his guest had caught on and hurriedly left.

It should’ve pleased you to see him on his knees completely naked and holding onto your pant leg, pleading with you not to leave with tears welling in his waterline, but you were numb. 

The only thing you could feel was cold. Every part of you was freezing as if any ounce of warmth you would ever feel again left with the woman who was more desirable to him than your relationship. 

The Progress Day celebration was in full swing, fireworks, music and dancing was all around you. The logical side of your brain urged you to leave and go back home, but the two free drink vouchers they’d given you at the door were seemingly more necessary now than when you’d received them.

The two glasses were set down in front of you at the same time, the first one already half empty when you heard the cautious, “Hey,” from behind you.

Even if you hadn’t just heard him speak through an amplified system, your body tensing and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to burst into tears would’ve been the sign you needed to tell you who this was.

You inhaled deeply and grit your teeth before you turned on the bar stool towards him, repeating the phrase ‘The best payback is to move on’ in your head.

He looked almost the same as when you’d met him, if not more muscular and a little bit taller - his genetics had been kind to him and you felt the burn of hatred start its ignition.

You didn’t greet him back, instead you sipped your drink and stared at him emotionlessly.

“How are you? You look well!” he scratched the back of his neck and his vision flicked away from your unwavering gaze for a second as if the intensity of it was too much. Ironic considering he’d just had thousands of eyes on him not too long ago with no issue.

A humourless laugh threatened to leave your throat, but instead you managed to form it into a dry, “Do I?” as you drew your attention to your glass in an attempt to seem uninterested in his presence.

“I mean, you always looked well-” he started with the flattery but your rapidly increasing heart rate was beginning to make your hands tremble, “-What do you want, Ja-” you interrupted his compliment, only to cut yourself short, still unable to say his name.

His left eyebrow twitched, the slit amongst the brown hairs jumping with the movement, he undoubtedly picked up on how his name died on your tongue and you noted how a glimmer of hope in his eyes decayed with it.

“I thought I could buy you a drink, but it seems you’ve already got some,” he chuckled through his explanation, an undertone of nervousness attempting to be hidden by faux confidence.

He must really be spending too much time around people who do nothing but agree with him. Whatever tricks he’d learned to shmooze the brass of Piltover Council wasn’t going to work on you, when he’d shattered your heart he’d also obliterated any illusions he could try and dangle in front of you.

“Why?” you asked him bluntly, your voice was still cold and unfeeling, bringing you a drop of pride. He was taken back by your question, that much was evident from the dumbfounded look on his face. For once, he couldn’t bullshit an answer and get away with it.

He thought for a moment under your scrutinising gaze, “I wanted to talk to you,” he admitted, “Why? I don’t want to talk to you,” you fired back the second he’d finished his own statement. 

You could feel your emotions starting to push their way through the hardened exterior you’d somehow managed to fasten to yourself. He shuffled forwards and sat on the barstool next to you, one elbow on the counter and his body facing you, so you twisted back towards the bar.

“Why?” He repeated your question back to you with a scoff as if the answer was obvious, “Because I still care about you,” he said it so casually that he must have been unaware of how every muscle in your chest contracted with pain, “No, we’re not doing this,” a sour smile graced your lips and you laughed with discomfort to push back the temptation to weep.

“Doing what?” The innocence and genuine curiosity in his voice almost had you believing that he had forgotten how he’d crushed your trust into fragments so small that you were still searching for the missing pieces before you could start to glue it back together again.

“This,” you gestured between the two of you and swivelled to hop off of the stool, “Pretending that everything is fine between us,” you elaborated, anticipating another stupid question from him that would delay your departure from this torment.

He stood as you did, unintentionally blocking you from getting off your chair, “Of course I’m not pretending everything is fine,” he put his hands up as if he was offering a surrender, “I know it isn’t fine, I was a dick, but I want to try and make amends.”

You laughed again, this time it was a real laugh. “A dick? That’s putting betraying me lightly,” you mumbled to yourself but his grimace told you that he heard you. 

“There is nothing you could do in this life or the next that would make amends for the damage you did,” you spoke to him directly this time, leaning into him and lowering your voice so he really had to concentrate on your words.

You hopped off of the stool and he stepped back, calling your name but giving you the space you needed to leave if you so wished, but a part of you didn’t. 

The two of you were so close to each other, you could feel the warmth of his chest against your arm and for a brief second you enjoyed the familiarity of his body heat. Clearly, a small segment of your brain hadn’t fully processed that he wasn’t yours anymore. As if all of this was some very realistic nightmare, and you would wake up in his arms in a world where he hadn’t needed to find fulfilment in someone else.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” The words left your lips before you could register that you were asking him the question that had been on repeat inside your mind since that night. 

His lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed the same way they had when he was on stage, but this time you could see what was in his eyes - guilt, regret, and sadness.

“You were enough,” he whispered back to you, “Don’t lie to me,” your eyes focused on that stupid red tie you used to enjoy playing with so much and you felt every muscle in your face tense as you fought back that urge to cry again.

He called your name and reached to touch your arm but you batted it away, “If I was enough then you wouldn’t have needed someone else,” you spoke firmly, leaving him no room to argue with you, but of course, he would still try.

“I was selfish and greedy,” he admitted as if this was the first time he’d been able to confess it to himself, let alone you, “I promise, you were always enough for me, you were- are perfect,” his voice was soft and you wanted to believe him, but his actions were a strict contradiction to his words.

You hadn’t felt the tear leak from your waterline, you’d only realised it had escaped when you felt his finger brush it away and you flinched. He held his hand up again and slowly rested it on the counter, “Sorry, habit,” he mumbled sadly.

“Don’t,” you shook your head and refused to look at his face, “Don’t act like you care now,” your throat wobbled and you held onto every fiber of your being to allow you to speak clearly enough to maintain some of your dignity. 

“I do care,” frustration lined his protest, “Believe it or not, but I did love you,” his words felt like a dagger being stabbed into your unprepared flesh and twisted until the area went numb from the pain, “You don’t replace the people you love, I never could’ve done that to you,” you needed to leave, any longer and you would make a complete fool of yourself in front of the most influential people in Piltover.

He huffed, hearing him intake a shaky breath, you finally raised your vision to meet his face - his eyes were glossy and his jaw was tense, “I still love you,” his declaration wobbled with emotion on his tongue. 

“No,” you shook your head, “I won't let you lure me into thinking that I meant something to you.” With a trembling hand you wiped away your own tears like you had so many nights before this one. 

“Okay,” Jayce said defeatedly, the strong confident man that you’d seen on stage had disappeared completely, “Whatever you want,” he was the one to break eye contact with you this time.

“I want the person I was before I met you back,” you managed to kickstart your legs into walking away from him. For the second time, it felt like your soul was being ripped apart, leaving half of it and the one person you’d adored most in the world in your shadow.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Screw everything else inject On1y into my damn veins

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 5-6 of 12 - Extreme introvert dealing with a very hot, very drunk, very affectionate extrovert was an excellent experience all around. “I was drunk and talking out of my ass, but I wasn’t lying” maybe one of the world’s greatest confessions. How meta that he’s checking out the book of the story that he’s in. Carry on boys, very enjoyable, very Thai BL.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 12 fin - It’s cute. They are all very cute. I do like it when high school BL gives us a coming out sequence. I know it’s old-fashioned, but it’s a trope that goes with this particular setting really well, and I just like it when it’s done nicely. I’m not sure I needed it to totally dominate the final episode of the series. But it was fine.

I gotta say, Fourth is an absolutely outstanding actor. He really did knocked it out of the park in this last episode especially. 

In conclusion:

It was fine and it was charming, but it was also a little lackluster. Thailand managed to take one of Japan's softest cutest most bonkers BLs in recent memory and make it softer and cuter and... dull. They did this by watering it down. JBLs almost always have an edge to them, even the rom-coms, by dulling the edge, MLMU lost a great deal of the sparkle and tension as well. What an office setting managed to mostly maintain in the consummate hands of TayNew felt somewhat lackluster when handed off to the next generation and a high school setting. Cherry Magic was a lovely reinterpretation, Mix Up was an amateur's watercolor rendition of a colorful oil painting. Am I being harsh? G4 tried their best, and Fourth turned in some outrageously good acting in the latter half. But the show? It was fine. If you like water colors and you haven't seen (and loved) Kieta Hatsukoi. 8/10

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 fin - This was the first hint we got that the lead's relationship was anything more than sexual. And it was utilized for a breakup?! JJ and Wan's friendship is the best thing about this show. PWan selling JJ out to Methas was great. I was modestly delighted by the big fuck off ownership engagement ring. I admire a boy who likes to mark his territory with bling. I actually thought this was a decent final episode. If very rushed. I know, in general this ending was objectively weak, but I grinned the entire time, so I can’t really complain that much.

Final thoughts?

A story about a kid who infiltrates a cooking competition under false pretenses and then has to deal with the consequences when he falls in love with the head chef. The side couple is a poor little rich boy meets physical therapist (morality chain). The core friendships are excellent and the chemistry cannot be faulted across the (charcuterie) board. What this show lacks in substance it makes up for in health code violations. It was all chili all the time. Considering that the plot centered on betrayal but the romantic relationship never sweetened enough to balance that bitterness; one could be forgiven for throwing this one in the compost. But I got over all its weaknesses in flavor balancing for an ultimately satisfying meal, with a great dessert course. I've always loved spicy food. Plus the blooper reels were fantastic. 8/10

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 2 of 10 - I like the side couple a lot. It’s nice to see that dynamic developed (as it wasn't in the CBL version). Of course, Thailand leans into a secondary couple, but I also like the super popular jock + geeky boy who couldn’t care less. You know what? I’m actually really enjoying this. And yes, I AM biased because it's August. (Wait, that could be taken several different ways this month. But you know what I mean.) Anygay, this is a lot softer than the original, and so Hero is much more of a pining character and less harsh. But I'm still enjoying it. I like the stepbrothers trope (we don’t get it very much from Thailand), and I enjoy the beats and pulses of this particular story. We will see if it derails into inconsequence and lack of conflict the way My Love Mixup did.  

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - I’m enjoying this show but it should’ve been just 10 eps. It’s feeling bloated at this juncture. That said, I loved our little GL kiss. Very pretty. I also really like the bit with Sam and Yo flirting with each other. Sam trying to get Yo to call him P'Sam was fucking brilliant. And then slipping in all of those nongs. Delightful. Linguistic negotiation, it's what's for dinner... along with Sam's d**k apparently. I frankly did not think they would take this couple that far. So, thank you very much everybody involved.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 4 of 12 - I do enjoy watching Yim freak out and fall in love all over again. The reality is still better for me than the fantasy parts, but it’s all fun enough. The magic mushrooms bit was odd. In fact, there is definitely a core tenor of ODD going on with the show. Which I’m accustomed to from Japan but I’m not really sure about from Thailand. Thus I remain engaged but suspicious of this BL. 

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - Yu wants to take his baby on a trip, gets thwarted by his younger brother. Ouch. I really do think it’s time for Ai to tell Yu what’s going on with his dreams! Drunken boyfriend bolster pillow is a fav trope of mine. As usual, I’m catching second lead syndrome. What? I liked the rich boy badminton player. And then he picked up a guitar. Oh well.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - No one cares about the hets. He was jelly? Cute. Also kinda an arse, by hey this is BL. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - announced in 2023, high school, stepbrothers, and is reputed to be high heat. Based on a novel Mou Mou + the Your Name Engraved Herein team.

ARE YOU READY? I'M GOING TO NOT SO QUIETLY LOSE MY DAMN MIND

This is old-school BL and it’s bloody fantastic. Tsundere seme to beat all tsundere (smartest + tallest + bestest at everything but people) meets socially-ept cutie smart-ass protag.

They living together by end of ep 1 and start kissing by end of ep 2.

There is an Unknown quality to this, and that I love. Also, and ironic to say this while Addicted Heroin Th is airing, but this REALLY reminds me of Addicted. It’s so fucking good. I am all in on this show. Shut up while this eats my life.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 5-6 of 8 - Of course! The POV shift to the seme character at ep 5! How could I forget? Japan loves this beat! AND.... The running of the gays. And a use of a first name! So darling. Also some crazy great communication and conversation that is NOT a hallmark of Japan. Sahashi is so very possessive. I loved the switch that went on in his brain and the mania in his eyes when he thought someone else was interested in Natsume. I continue to love this.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I’m never going to like Maya. Sorry. And the leads were separated for most of this episodes so it was largely disappointing. I did like the insight into the way T sees the world, and sees the alienation of a disability and what it's dong to his friend. It’s very empathic. He’s such an appealing character in his obtuse bull-headed way.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 2 of 8 - It’s intriguing, and I'm happy to have anything from Korea on my dash. But, like Blue Boys, I’m not entirely sure if I like it or not.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - This may be Taiwan but I’m still in the "no singing" camp. I’m getting a slightly better chemistry feel off the leads in this episode. I’m not sure if they’re keeping it stiff because the younger character is under age or if it’s just that the actors aren’t there yet? (In other words is this a directing choice or a performance issue?)

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - I've finally come down firmly on the fact that it’s the uneven power distribution (in terms of interest and enthusiasm for the relationship) that I dislike about this show. Generally, I like a power dynamic differential, kinky and all that. But this particular dynamic, when it’s the weaker personality that’s so much more into the stronger one? I never like it, unless it engages a serious pivot at some point. (See My Personal Weatherman or Takara & Amagi.)

It's airing but...

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3 of 10 - I was really loving this one but I can't find ep 3 anywhere so I guess I gotta wait it out. I hope I get to see it eventually.

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. If I have time, I'll get caught up and put it into rotation.

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Next Month:

The Time of Fever (Korea)

9/1 Live in Love (Thai)

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan)

9/6 Kidnap (Thai)

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai)

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai)

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan)

More deets next week. It's late and I'm tired.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

It was pretty. I am very shallow.

Even more pretty. Petition to have Tenon with his shirt off and hair back in every subsequent Thai BL? Just because.

(SunsetXVibes)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 28/12

Anonymous asked: In the same vein as the Seer of Light/Witch of Space fakeout in the human session: do you think any of the trolls seem to not fit their assigned classpects, to reject it and imitate another, or to trade classes or aspects with another troll?

It's hard to tell if a given character fits their Title, when I don't know what each Title is supposed to symbolize.

Eridan, for example, didn't originally seem to evoke Hope. When I realized his 'hope' was essentially romantic delusion, it started to make a little more sense - but I have no idea if that's actually compatible with the Aspect's true meaning. We've only seen one Hope Player, so we don't know which aspects (lol) of his story are Hope-themed, and which are just Eridan being Eridan.

@relaxxattack asked: COMPLETELY unexpected coming from me (lol); but i doubt scratch, omniscient as he is, completely misunderstands slick’s motivations. i read it that perhaps slick’s emotional investment really is preventing him from killing snowman, despite all his lip service otherwise. i mean why else would scratch resort to auspisticism, the role made for breaking apart inconvenient pitch couples? plus all the brawler-like violence and threats of death— it really seems like he does need to force slick to cooperate and kill her

I kind of like that, actually. It would be pretty fun if Slick, of all people, managed to ruin Scratch's plans - and by having a heart, to boot!

@manorinthewoods asked: Proposal for the future: Whenever a flashback occurs, you take a guess as to whether or not it is a Dream Bubble. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

Yeah, I might actually give this a shot. I feel like I could do a pretty decent job of discerning whether a flashback is a Bubble, just based on whether the characters involved are currently unconscious or dead - although I can clearly still be fooled.

Anonymous asked: If Terezi hadn't been convinced beforehand (by Gamzee somehow?!) that Vriska was killing at random and absolutely had to go, I couldn't help but imagine at the time that Terezi COULD have saved Vriska if she tried, proving luck doesn't matter… by pulling a Harvey Dent and swapping her coin for a clean double-sided scratchless one just before flipping it, which her luck-stealing couldn't possibly make land scratched. It even would have proved to Vriska that she can't account for everything.

That would be pretty crafty, and I really like her hypothetical style - but honestly, I think Vriska was too far gone to be talked down. The fact that she stole that coin's luck in every timeline makes me think it was probably impossible to make her stay.

@caliquill asked: early in the liveblog you identified a Strider Ramble as a stress ramble. so it delights me that you have finally seen a TRUE Strider Stress Ramble. everything comes full circle.

Oh, true! Man, that's a deep cut.

I should have known, really. It's a pretty consistent character trait for Dave to get less ironic as he gets stressed - we already saw that at play in Davesprite's timeline.

@martinkhall asked: A lot of people seem to miss that he found his quest bed. Reading through his posts again this time I find myself wondering between his "dear departed family" and his imps being described as "sportitive rascals" if he prototyped a dead son. That sounds like a phrase that could descibe a young boy.

Aw man, that's heartbreakingly plausible. If we don't see Fedorafreak's story concluded in-universe, I will absolutely be looking for good Fedorafics when I'm done with the comic.

@bellcarved asked: you know, with the mention of a server player, i'm now imagining somebody else watching through the build menu and sending fedorafreak messages during this whole thing. "ff, i have the code for a bottle of water, and it only costs one unit of build grist. stop drinking your urine and generally treating this like a wilderness survival show, you are going to die. ff please respond."

Our man chose 'freak' as his handle for a reason. <3

@morganwick asked: Note that when Fedorafreak combines his pants with his shirt, it produces a "useless, excessively tall pant". This was after Pantskat had already become a meme.

It's so funny that this one wonky panel became so much of a meme. You just know that if Homestuck was ten years younger, it would have turned into an Among Us joke.

Anonymous asked: I think at one point Hussie said that fedorafreak's title would be the "gent of piss" but it's rather likely that they were just being silly. I also think that the title of a hope player would befit fedorafreak :) @marinerofthestars asked: for some incomprehensible reason hussie did in fact give us canon/‘canon’ fedorafreak lore on his formspring. he has the Title Gent of Piss and his server player (who survived at least long enough to get him into the medium) is 2busy4this (iirc they don’t actually appear elsewhere in the comic. guess hussie was. too busy for them) @morganwick asked: I believe Hussie has said that Fedorafreak's title is Gent of Piss. @skelekingfeddy asked: according to hussie fedorafreaks classpect is the Gent of Piss

Disrespecting our king! I have to assume that was a joke, because FedoraFreak deserves so much better than the Piss Aspect. I like Gent, though.

I was going to say I hoped that 2busy4this was able to enter the session - but really, that just means they'll die by Tumor, rather than meteor.

@morganwick asked: It was actually Fedorafreak's appearance on page 2918 that arguably made him a meme with the fandom.

It's been fun checking in with our king as we progress through the comic. I assume his memetic status is due to drinking his own urine - hence, the 'Gent of Piss' title that Hussie apparently saddled him with.

@clueless-rarito asked: Damn when I first read it didn't really sink in how fucked up the whole derse suicide mission situation was and how heartbreaking their whole conversation about it was. It's really the kind of thing you get a lot more from seeing someone else react to it

It's so twisted, isn't it? These poor children just want to protect each other, but each of them is convinced that the only way to do so is to die. Homestuck is so fucked sometimes.

@morganwick asked: Not to be too alarmist or presumptuous, but: did you not have anything to say about pages 3918-3920, or did your post(s) on those pages get eaten or otherwise lost?

Honestly, I just didn't have any commentary about them. They really just continued to depict the gradual return of John's memories, which I'd already talked about.

Sometimes I simply don't have that much to say about a given panel, even when the current arc is as exposition-heavy as this one. They can't all be mini-essays, y'know?

@wickedsick asked: Do you think Ghost John x Davesprite would count as…. Doomed yaoi?

Ayyyyyy!

@suroboro asked: So what you're saying is… that Terezi has gone Blind with Rage? (0;

Ayyyyyyyyyy!

Anonymous asked: after you finish homestuck you should 100% check out tumblr user meraki-sunset's crow strider au - it's wildly spoilery but i think as a davesprite lover you will enjoy it

Ah, yes, I'm pretty sure I know about this one! I've also been sent some of the artist's (non-spoilery) art, which looks absolutely gorgeous. It's definitely on the list!

Anonymous asked: This whole section is one of my favorite parts of Homestuck. All the conversations are so genuine and emotional, quiet and intimate, building anticipation but also savoring the moments they have before the end… ough. I gotta say, though it's probably the aspect I've understood the least since my classpecting phase, you really do strike me as Life oriented with a lot of the things you say :P

I still really llke the idea of being a Life Player - partially because I tend to gravitate towards healing, regeneration and resurrection abilities in games. I love getting tanky as fuck in Terraria, for example.

@manorinthewoods submitted: You know who, specifically, could have prevented Perfect Jack if she'd listened to her Denizen? Vriska. Vriska made the Choice that caused Bec Noir, unwittingly. If she hadn't, and if Denizen Choices truly do allow you to alter your own fate, then Jack never would have entered the troll session. Of course, whatever choice Vriska made to ensure Bec Noir's creation must have been earlier than the Veil. Potentially even in the presession! But if she just hadn't been Vriska, then… ~LOSS (19/12/24)

Wait, does it have to be earlier than the Veil? I don't think Vriska should even know about the kids' session until the game has already ended. Did I misapprehend some aspect of that plotline?

@krixwell asked: Worth considering in light of these revelations about Denizens and Typheus in particular: the parcel pyxis system, which fairly consistently takes things where they need to be. If Typheus controls the Breeze on LoWaS, he's basically the local mailman.

Heh, I like that. Perhaps that's why the Breeze will 'carry you to where need to go' - because it's being controlled by a postman, and a postman knows the destination of every package they handle.

@ramdomartkid asked: What do you think about the theory of the kids being homeschooled? As mensioned before, John never talks ab other ppl that aren't hs characters, (and aren't his neighbors) but he also never mentions why he's not at school at the beginning (or a b-day party with classmates) Same goes 4 Dave but Bro doesn't rl have that much motivation to put Dave in school in the first place. Less time for training. Rose…idk same as John And then Jade bc it's canon But that's just a theory…a webcomic theory (sorry if there are errors in grammar, english isnt my native language)

16:13 is fairly late in the afternoon, so John might have just returned from a day at school. I do think the homeschooling theory has merit, though - particularly with Dave, for the reasons you've already stated.

And yeah, Jade sort of had to be homeschooled if she was going to have any formal education at all. It would have ended pretty early, though. :(

@corporalotherbear asked:

LMAO

I feel like an identical exchange has occurred between Rose and Mom Lalonde.

@necrowyrm asked: In the past I thought of you as "thew" due to those being the letters I typed into Tumblr to search you. Recently, Tumblr has demanded an additional letter, so you are now "Thewe" (pronounced completely differently)

From thoo to thooie. It feels like I'm going through a Pokemon evolution!

Anonymous asked: You know that dream Dave talked about? Someone decided to illustrate it and GOODDAMN did they cook!

God damn, you were not kidding. This is such a macabre interpretation of the description he gave, and I love it.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ok im finally continuing with this quadrant ask series lol. i do think theres a side of propaganda to the quadrant system, despite what ive said about it. because even though its based around biological/evolutionary impulses…so is humanity’s concept of heteronormativity. the quadrants are a rather rigid, inflexible system, which is enforced by threat of DEATH. im willing to bet that, for example, certain trolls may feel only red attraction, or only black attraction, or only concupiscent attraction, or only conciliatory attraction, or zero quadrant-based attraction at all, or feel attraction completely outside of the quadrant system. the taboo against polyamory in one quadrant, like you’ve said several times already, is another flaw with the system. the quadrants system is predicated upon biology, sure, but so is cis/heteronormativity. i dunno, this is just my analysis of the quadrants xp idk if hussie was actually thinking about any of this when he was writing hs haha……

I pretty much agree with your take on quadrant propaganda.

In my opinion, any rigid framework of relationships - be it ours, Alternia's, or another - will inevitably fail to describe the full spectrum of possible relationship dynamics. Not every human is straight, gay or bi, and not every troll wants hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds.

Anonymous asked: wanna uh, put in my input on that kismessitude thread someone else sent to you. i disagree for a lot of spoilery reasons but mostly i just want to point out some things regarding a few specific assertions "jack and the queen's romance is tragic and meant to be compared to mom and dad, and the tragedy is unrelated to their romance" yes, mom and dad getting killed by jack noir is like, completely unrelated to their romance. they were literally just vibing and they got murked, would have been the same if it was a platonic hang out and they werent flirting at all. i buy that. we can't really compare that to jack noir and the queen, though, since jack kills the queen over the harlequin costuming. jacks and black queens are constantly attacking each other (over their several incarnations at this point i think they've lost like, 3 limbs between them and an eye. and of course jack killed her too in their like, third scene together). i just don't know how we're supposed to take that as 1. tragic given that a lot of the time it's played for slapstick comedy or "lol look at how much they hate each other" or 2. unrelated from their pitch romance. the dynamic of their pitch romance is them tormenting each other and in one case it ends with jack murdering the black queen. that's not equivalent to dad & mom. also, a few other points: i don't know how we're supposed to take the tavros & vriska stuff, because while they are definitely toxic, they seem to be pursuing each other in the RED quadrant, not in pitch… and it feels like the standards for toxicity are different there. also, something really important: eridan doesn't say anything about 'kismessitudes ending in death' in that conversation on page 2343. he says "CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps". the only mention of death here is in terms of COLLATERAL damage, not of them killing each other. eridan talks about killing all landdwellers (but not his friends, because theyre not like other girls i mean lowbloods! man the writing was on the wall with him). not about killing vriska. and this tracks way more with what alternia is like, for me personally- they don't care what two individuals do to each other, but when it begins to interfere with empire on a larger scale, then they would like a mechanism to break it up. ultimately, quadrants are something that WILL come up again in homestuck (spoilers, but i feel like that's obvious, lol. you have another what, 5000 pages?), so you'll get to form your own opinion on it. i just felt really baffled about the arguments because they… felt like they were missing contexts or taking leaps, so i thought i would weigh in. no hate to the other commentator! homestuck quadrant discussion is fun to me.

Interesting thoughts here, in response to a submission about quadrants from earlier in the year.

I don't think I'd ever personally call Jack/Black Queen 'tragic' - but I wouldn't use them as a model for troll kismessitude either way. They're a different species, so they're going to have different standards.

As for Vriska/Tavros…. to be honest, I don't think you could really quadrant them in a way that makes sense. Vriska hated Tavros too much for hearts, but didn't respect him enough for spades. As for Tavros, I don't think he's ever wanted anything to do with Vriska.

Anonymous asked: You might have noticed the unique Strife artstyle in this section of the story. These sprites were created by the art team for a Strife flash that never came to fruition. Now that you've seen the content that was made in place of that flash, I believe it's not a spoiler to send Hussie's commentary on his original plans. What are your thoughts on this alternate path and do you prefer the way the story was ultimately presented? What do you feel about his discussion of pros and cons? (1/2)

Sadly, I don't think we received the second half of this submission. I have been enjoying the artstyle of the recent arc - and if you resubmit Hussie's commentary on it, I'd love to take a look!

Anonymous asked: What mystical powers would the Dave of Guy title give a player? What insane abilities would the class of 'Dave' and the aspect of 'Guy' have?. ~DJ

David means beloved, and Guy is the name of a famous revolutionary.

Therefore, I believe the Dave of Guy would be 'beloved' by the very concept of disagreement, revolution and rebellion. In other words, the Aspect would always favor them, causing situations involving it to resolve in their favor.

If they argued against you, they'd win. If they fought against an institution, that institution would crumble. As long as they were fighting against some status quo, fate would smile on them.

Anonymous asked: If stuff about voice actors blows your mind, Casey Mongillo and Kira Buckland both got their start voicing Karkat and Vriska respectively in Youtube animations. Also "The idea of a work of fiction that subverts or wholly rejects the notion of ‘canon’ is pretty interesting, and on an academic level, it would be kind of cool to analyze it." Have you heard of this little show called Doctor Who? Because "there is no canon" is the position of the brand. I can elaborate on why if you're interested.

Oh, interesting! I was actually thinking about Doctor Who while answering that ask, because the idea of a story that stopped caring about its own lore was an unwelcome reminder of Moffat's era on the show.

I'd be really interested in hearing your thoughts on Doctor Who re: canon discourse, if you're willing to send!

Anonymous asked: i think you should talk about moffat

I was very tempted to compile a full essay summarizing my thoughts on Moffat, but I don't really have the time right now. Rest assured, some day I will absolutely go off on the Moffat era of Doctor Who - and let's not even talk about Sherlock.

@manorinthewoods asked: You may not be able to imagine Nepeta and Eridan being pals, but all the Erinep shippers certainly could. ~LOSS (15/12/24)

Please tell me their ship name is catfish.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: Now that the clock has “landed” on Just for Vriska, I wanted to talk a bit about how a WHILE back you pointed out Terezi’s coin flip as a crucial moment of morality… to me at the time, I believed that if any moment doomed her to a Just death, it was Vriska’s actions around that coin flip, that it was more important than just a narrative performance: Terezi was begging Vriska to leave even a SHRED OF CHANCE in the hands of the trolls to have her stay instead of leave, to give the other trolls even the last of a gambler’s luck of a collective say in whether or not she pursued this course of action that endangered them, and she stole it. Made it a constant across all timelines. I think that’s what crossed the last line of moral ambiguity, that she would not allow her friends a shred of agency over how reality unfolded… except to kill her. I felt THAT is what forced it to be Just, and that injustice is indeed perhaps a matter of trampling over the rights of others.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Mind you, I don't know if it's necessarily always a good or heroic thing to allow a Sburb Player full agency over their actions, nor is it necessarily a bad thing to restrict them, in certain cases.

If Eridan, for example, had been allowed to live his truth on the Veil, no lowblood would have made it out of there alive - and I wouldn't necessarily bet on the highbloods' survival, either. Kanaya was absolutely in the right when she cleaved his agency into two roughly equal pieces.

Vriska was definitely in the wrong when she rigged the coin, but I don't think it was because she didn't allow her friends agency - it was because she was going to get everyone killed. If Vriska had rigged a game against, say, Gamzee, and stopped his rampage as a result, she'd absolutely be doing something heroic, no matter now much she was trampling on his agency to do so.

@manorinthewoods asked: I am rereading my favorite HS fanfic, Like One Sundered Star, to research for Slurb (Sally Sburb), and I have determined that it may be viable liveblogging material, at least towards the second half. Unfortunately, it's image-poor, incredibly long, has a slow and almost a bit weak beginning, is less blog-dense, and also requires a different fanfic to be read first if you want to understand what happened at the start. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

That's the one that's as long as Worm, right? I'm definitely not saying no, but I also think I'd need a lot more free time to do it.

Plus, the lack of images, I think, would throw me off. That said, I did consider liveblogging Worm itself, back when I was reading it. I do think I could liveblog an entirely text-based story, but I'd probably have to rethink my approach.

@securitycapecreature asked: John kissed rose to save her live, same with jade kissing dave, karkats shipping chart is coming true before our very eyes

For a bisexual alien, his shipping is awfully straight, isn't it? I still think Rose/Jade makes much more sense than Rose/John.

@elkian asked: Game rec for Sally: I think you'd enjoy In Stars And Time, a tragicomic timeloop game. There's a handful of Homestuck references (including in the SASASAP artbook) and the humor+gameplay concepts are reminiscent of Undertale but it stands on its own. I'd actually strongly rec playing Start Again: A Prologue first, it's about 2-ish hours and sets the stage for ISAT. Both are really funny which I didn't expect from glancing at the promos so putting that there

I saw that one trending on Tumblr recently, and I'm a sucker for time travel stories. It's on the list!

Anonymous asked: Theres been fun discussion of the way homestuck uses the word play in meta gaming sense but noone's mentioned the word act yet have they? That's not a game word, that's an THEATER word. entire narrative of Homestuck is structured like a play script: it's separated into acts, narration is stage direction, all the dialogue is PLAYER DIALOGUE bc all the characters are actors playing their roles. and if you fuck up your role you get kicked out and REPLACED. exiles arent just npcs theyre STAGEHANDS

Ooh, I like these musings. It reminds me of how the Locked Tomb short story The Unwanted Guest plays with the idea of theatre as a metaphor. Taz Muir's Homestuck phase strikes again!

@bladekindeyewear asked: As we edge ever closer toward this Act’s inevitable conclusion, you asked if for a theory recap we could compile some of the DISPROVEN theories for you— and I’m sure we’ll find a good few to run by you for fun. Though the original Homestuck forums and threads are irrecoverable so much has been lost. But one of the things troubling me is this: Homestuck’s mysteries can be DEEP, leaving much implied. What about theories we formed at the time that were NEVER fully confirmed, might still be important, and which we shouldn’t even be implying to you whether there was any more evidence later because THAT would be a spoiler in and of itself? I think that’s what’s been getting me to hound you the most about opportunities to suggest more theories about stuff from past pages and thoughts we had SOLELY based on evidence we had AT THE TIME or earlier, because sometimes there may be shit amasses circumstantial evidence so many layers deep without EVER being confirmed, because as Andrew liked to put it, “Homestuck is a story that is also a puzzle”. And this onion has some deep effin’ layers we wouldn’t have even THOUGHT we might have reached without working together for years rereading this beast. If you’re still going about it solo, I thought at the end of this act you could use some of the keys we THOUGHT we found DURING this past act that we believed were finally unlocking deeper layers to squeeze twice as much juice or more out of every page.

See, the main problem here is that if a theory was never confirmed, then knowing about it sort of implicitly spoils parts of the comic. The more I know about what won't happen, the closer I get to knowing what will happen.

Therefore, I'm going to say 'not until much later on'. The kind of meta you're talking about would be absolutely fascinating to me, but I think it'd change my perception of the comic too much while I'm still liveblogging.

Anonymous asked: Jade on the page 3946 looks like those weird worms (worm on a string) :D

It's time to come off the string, Jadesprite. Release your true power!

Anonymous asked: You probably have a hundred of these by now, but at some point, those mini-side-story banners get hover-over Alt Text, so keep an eye out for that. Anonymous asked: don't forget to look at the top panels in this section :) rockernator2 asked: Don't know if anyone else has told you this, but there is (or is going to be) alt text on the upper pictures. Anonymous asked: make sure you keep an eye on what's happening at the top of the page! Anonymous asked: You've probably gotten at least one mention of this already, but if you haven't noticed it, it's worthwhile to look at the "banner" at the top of the page starting on page 3797. @bananonbinary asked: psst in true doc scratch fashion, the top panels actually have some alt-text if you hover the mouse over them. he's gotta make you work for it. @bananonbinary asked: oh dang oh shoot oh no thats not for a little bit yet i misremembered rip sorry Cat

[probably good to know early so you can watch out for it - C]

Noted! I just took a look back through the entire Scratch Sequence, and there's been no alt-text thus far. I have been worried about missing stuff in this sequence, given that there's so much going on.

@elkian asked: The Mendicant's Mauler Monologue took me the fuck OUT xD @metroid-fusion asked: hey sally the mailbox description joke was really really funny. youre good at homestuck

Something that is both normal to want, and possible to achieve!

I think PM herself would approve, too. She loves choosing violence.

Anonymous asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other lands feature musical symbolism." You mean like that giant record turntable thing in LoHaC? :P @sanctferum asked: "At some point, I’ll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism." I don't remember if there's anything like that on LOFAF other than like, frog croaking (and what a musical genre that is! their albums are already sold out on whatever remains of Prospit, I'm sure), but boy does LOHAC not only have a giant CD, but one that's also the session's scratch construct. Dave's destiny must be to drop the sickest mixtape of all time, while trapping the pimp within his crib like it is hot. @wickedsick asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism."

Yeah, it's definitely a possibility. (in all seriousness, Dave manipulates the stock market through time travel the way a DJ manipulates and mixes songs (represented through vinyls)?)

fucking LOL. This is what I get for liveblogging at 2am, I guess!

@garnetduodecim asked: Technically what doomed the time line wasn’t John dying, it was Dave prototyping Lil’Cal @bladekindeyewear asked: Doomed John said if he hadn't gone to see his Denizen, Dave(sprite) wouldn't go back and fix things so they could exist… but Dave THOUGHT John's death was why he needed to rewind. So what "doomed" the timeline before John even reached his denizen? One frightening possible answer: CALSPRITE. A prototyped Lil Cal wouldn't have been sent to Alternia in the wallet to be the base for Doc Scratch and guide their universe's creation. LIL CAL'S temporal necessity may have killed the timeline!

The order of events isn't entirely clear here, but you're right - Cal might very well have been prototyped before John flew through that Gate.

Future Dave immediately prevented both events when he travelled back, so it's impossible to say for sure - but I like this theory. That damn puppet is just... inescapable.

@pineapple-temporarily-moving asked: jsyk, you seem to have misinterpreted the line about trolls' eyes changing color when they grow up! only their irises change from gray to their blood color, their sclera do stay orange. mindfang is, indeed, old Anonymous asked: Trolls' /irises/ fill in with their blood pigment as they get older, not the orange part. Mindfang probably had blue eyes, we just don't generally get to see characters' irises. @abysswarlock asked: The eye color thing Vriska was saying was that the grey irises fill in with the troll’s blood pigment color, similar to how the kids iris colors match the color they type in @elkian asked: I always read Vriska's "fill in as we age" thing refer to the irises mentioned previously, but it's kind of just interpreted however. And Homestuck has so much symbolism and stylistic choices that it's not really clear lmao. @skelekingfeddy asked: im pretty sure the ‘eyes filling in with their blood color’ refers to their irises not their whole eyes

So no red-eyed Karkat?

0/10. Literally unreadable.

@krixwell asked: You mentioned in the ask compilation you just posted that the Aspects might operate on a meta level as well as a physical. You've already covered Void, but what do you make of the other Aspects through this lens? @heliotropopause asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, […]" the meta level is honestly the most interesting aspect to aspects to me, and i'd love to see you have a go at it; there's definitely some analysis to be done there. @ariamaki asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level" AN IMPORTANT LESSON WAS LEARNED THIS DAY. I would love to hear your (current) thoughts as to what this would mean when expanded out to the other Aspects, because this is something I think about a lot.

So, this is a type of meta interpretation that I do like analyzing - but to be honest, I don't have many other meta interpretations for specific Aspects. Not yet, anyway.

That said, Sburb is essentially a story that forces itself on its Players, so it would be kind of cool if the Titles were part of that forced story, in some abstract way. I have started to wonder if Time and Space might represent plot and setting, respectively - but so far, that's only a half-baked idea. I'll definitely be returning to this idea in the future, when we've seen a little more of the other Aspects.

@galaxa-13 asked: "GT: my feathers are all ruffled, and i can no longer tell my ass apart from a big orange earth vegetable!" The joke here is "I can't tell my ass from [blank]" which is a pretty common saying when you're frustrated and confused. So John is basically saying "Oh yeah, you sure trolled me good! Because that's clearly what you're doing, trolling me. I am so ruffled!" Anonymous asked: For your information, an orange is not a "big orange earth VEGETABLE". Now, try and use your deductive skills to figure out what orange vegetable is being talked about. ~DJ

I know it was referencing a pumpkin, but I've honestly never heard that saying before. Perhaps it's a lot more popular in the US - or perhaps I'm just one of today's lucky 10'000.

Anonymous asked: Based on what you like about the comic (the same stuff I like) I doubt you would like any of the homestuck sequel/continuation stuff other than [one thing]. There's not much technical stuff, and I personally was really put off by the content of the sequels. I know some people like them but homestuck and it's sequels are very different types of stories. Anonymous asked: Regarding the epilogues (and Beyond Canon) to me, they feel like an interesting story - not necessarily things I would think the characters “would ‘actually’do”, but the themes about growing up, young adulthood, and friendships really resonated with me. A lot of the talk about “canonness” went over my head until it was pointed out to me, and I think that enhanced my enjoyment of it - I related to the story being told, and sort of regarded it as less what I thought would “really” happen and more an interesting idea telling me deep truths about myself. @manorinthewoods asked: To chime in on my view of the Epilogues - honestly, I think they are not particularly good, and until James Roach takes over 2 it's not particularly good either. I don't know whether I'd be sure in saying that reading them detracts from Homestuck, but I think I'd be comfortable saying that they are a continuation of what I feel to be a slow downward swing in quality after Act 5 - and an understandable one, given how Hussie must have been going through the mother of all burnout. ~LOSS (10/12/24)

Sounds about right. We had a bit of a chat about this on the Discord, and came to the conclusion that the tie-ins are probably going to be less appealing to me than the comic proper.

I'm going to default to a 'liveblog-lite' format for them, but reserve the right to do a deeper dive if I'm enjoying myself enough to warrant it!

Anonymous asked: In order to make 'Hostess' fit 8 letters, you'd have to use a typing quirk like Mindfang did with the Expatri8. As an example, the Condesce could have named her )(ostess, assuming that all ancestors share their typing quirks with their descendants. ~DJ Anonymous asked: If the main source for the Hostess' life is Mindfang, then yeah she'd probably have an 8 letter title. Otherwise, her title can be whatever number of letters you want. People do like sticking to the 8 letter rule for OCs, but compare - do real humans not often have given names with a different number of letters than 4, and surnames with a different number of letters than 6 or 7? Almost makes you question if all trolls really have 6/6 names.

Plus, the idea that Homestuck humans all have 6/7 letter surnames is a little weak anyway.

Four-letter first names might be a rule, but is a '6/7 letter surname' hypothesis really that much more likely than the hypothesis that there is no rule, and our four surnames are just between six and seven letters long by random chance?

@armchair-factotum asked: "Like, how does Rose’s chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?" Well, high concentrations of chalk in soil and water raises the pH, which might make it dificult for some plants and animals to live in? The "sand" on her island was all white and potentially made of chalk after all Anonymous asked: To elaborate on how the grist types/WV's items relate to the land quests: Oil is clogging the pipes that are integral to the salamanders' culture, preventing the Breeze from freely blowing through and delivering things, and the clouds trapping the fireflies are either smog from the oil or would normally be kept dispersed by the Breeze. Most of Rose's basic grist types (chalk, lime, marble) are forms of calcium carbonate, which is mostly formed through biological processes in the ocean, particularly through the accumulation of the shells of dead sea creatures like mollusks, corals, and foraminifera; chalk is formed from the skeletons of millions of dead plankton, and other forms of limestone also often contains fossils. Her beaches are the bleached bones of what once swam in the seas. Amber and rust are gumming up the gears of Dave's land, and the winter of Jade's land is implicitly a nuclear one. Last one is kind of ironically resolved by igniting a volcano, given sufficiently powerful eruptions can in theory create a similar winter effect. Not directly relevant, but I invite everyone to look up Verneshots, fun concept related to volcanoes and meteors. I feel like in the alternate Homestuck where the land quests are more explored, Hussie might have worked those in. Even less directly relevant, the term Siberian Trap(s) refers to both a volcanic event and a chess opening, which again I think could have been a fun Battlefield element in a story more focused on Sburb mechanics. @galaxa-13 asked: Rose's chalk related to her quest of bringing life to the ocean in that it was chalk that poisoned the water to begin with. By killing enemies and collecting the chalk grist as loot she was removing the poison.

I really like the implication that the chalk the Imps were dropping actually came from LOLAR's soil - almost like the Underlings themselves were born out of the ground.

And fuck, LOFAF's a nuclear winter! That's so good!

Anonymous asked: just want to take the time to HIGHLY recommend Homestuck Made This World ("a podcast about the critical analysis and contextualization of homestuck") its done by 2 media studies guys and its really great! they end up talking about doc scratch as one of an ongoing series of author figures, starting with the narrator of the comic (obvious), then dave (literally has a conversation that is an edited version of one of hussies chatlogs), bro (shares hussies interests + some anecdotal stuff related to smuppets (listen to the pod)), then hussie the self insert (an escalation of the narrator), and now doc scratch… (spoiler it keeps hapening) Anonymous asked: If you're into podcasts and people discussing Homestuck, you should at some point check out Homestuck Made this World. A podcast by two literature PHDs, one a long time Homestuck fan and one who's never read it before, discussing the comic a couple hundred pages at a time! They have a lot of great discussions, and the longtime fan also provides a lot of context for what was going on in the fandom at the time the pages originally posted.

Noted! I might listen along to it when I finally get around to rereading Homestuck. That's what I did with We've Got Worm.

Anonymous asked: i dont think anyones mentioned yet that the "hiding in an attic from bullies with a scary-ass wolf head" is also a never-ending story reference. Specifically in that thats literally the entire meta narrative the book was built around that the movie left out. the "puking on bullies" thing is also only in the movie and not in the book. Hussie Knows his references. @pages-in-movies asked: Congrats on hitting the milestone of being introduced to the main pillars of Homestuck: Jungian shadow, Gnosticism, The Never-ending Story, and the quote "nothing new under the sun"

At some point, I'm going to need to host a NeverEnding Story movie night. That, or Con Air.

[innorogers]

Awakening

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Steve was panting. He couldn’t feel anything else but pain. He clenched his jaw, trying to fight back all the emotions tearing him apart. But it was nothing compared to the agony that tore him apart inside. 

Warning: Angst / Hydra Past / Sad Steve / Angry Steve / Protective Steve / Past Revelations / This one is very emotional /He is very sad very angry / Hurt & Comfort

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare

Hydra’s brainwashing mechanism operates like a code embedded in a computer system. Implanted deep within the nervous system of each asset, it’s triggered by a command—a specific sequence of words, like a complex password. It only takes effect once the entire sequence is spoken. However, each word acts as a layer, tightening control over the asset with every syllable. It gradually overrides the brain's natural functions, until complete control is achieved over both mind and body.

You knew this. You also knew that fighting it only made the effect stronger, accelerating the process. Resisting was like trying to stop venom already spreading through your veins—inevitable and deadly. So, your only option was to buy time.

Time against whatever you were about to become.

“Мечта.”

Four triggered the first word unexpectedly, and you saw it in his eyes—he was going to finish the sequence fast.

But you were faster.

Your fist slammed against the wall, hitting the hidden button you’d been shielding.

"NO!!" Steve’s roar echoed through the room as a thick, crystallized wall dropped from the ceiling, sealing him and Maria on the other side. He pounded against it with all his strength, his fists useless against the reinforced barrier. "Open this!" he was desperate: “Open this fucking thing!!”

But it was useless. This was The Crib, the place where you, Tony, and Bruce pushed the limits of crazy ideas. Naturally, it was equipped with a “Hulk Containment” feature, just in case one of those experiments went too far.

“Jarvis, override!” Maria commanded immediately, pressing her comms. “Stark, 116, 116, in The Crib! Now!” She stepped back and shot the wall, only to leave soft marks but unable to break it at all.

Four smiled, pleased. 

“Шкаф”

A sharp pain crossed your mind, like a thunderstruck that cut you as a knife. For some seconds you think you lost control. You stumbled forward, losing completely balance. And stretched an arm for a glass somewhere over a desk nearby knocking everything off. The glass went flying and smashed to pieces on the floor. You tried to reach it blindly, you were loosing your sight, with trembles and the last thread of senses you handled to grab it, so you squeezed with all your remaining strength.

The glass pierced your skin and palm, leaving a long trail of blood down your arm. You could hear Steve's frantic pounding echoing through the walls, his voice a raw, anguished, shouting your name, but pain is dominating your senses.

But this is good, pain is good. Pain meant you were still here.

"Тетрадь." Four stepped back. He was enjoying this. All this show was worth it, even though he failed and had to face the rage of all the Avengers together later.

Nononono. You pressed harder your fists, the glass embedded left out more blood. Feel the pain, feel the senses. You're good. You're good. You are not this. You are not Hydra. You did not survive up to this day to be used again as something disposable. 

On your knees, you pressed your other hand into the shattered glass, hoping the sharpness would anchor you.

"Open this!" Steve was almost unrecognizable in his panic when Tony and Bruce entered the room. “Get this thing open!” His voice was a mix of rage and fear.

“Shit…” Bruce rushed to the nearest console, typing furiously. “The code’s simple but old—it’s uncrackable. We’ve got 15 seconds before it overrides.”

“What?!” Steve was outraged: “You’ve got to open it! Open it! Tony! Get my girl the fuck out of there!” 

“Oh shit, this is good.” Four’s laughter filled the room. This was a feast for him.

“Радуга.“

“No…” You whispered, holding onto the pain as if it were your lifeline.

You are not this. 

You are good. 

You are…

You are an oak tree, hidden deep in the forest. Sitting around the fire with your siblings, their faces bathed in a golden glow. The words that hung in the peaceful silence on that night. 

Starlight on the Siberian peaks, a full moon overhead. Natasha’s hand pulling you out, the scent of her leather jacket against your frozen skin. 

The first time you saw the ocean. The sensation of sand beneath your feet, waves tickling your toes. 

Christmas lights twinkling on a giant tree, champagne in the compound and Dr. Lin’s drunk laugh. 

The first time Tony led you into the abandoned lab, that door opened to what you thought was perfection. The bad jokes you shared with him and Bruce here in The Crib. The coffee you made for Sam and Nat at your lab.

And Steve. The first time he smiled at you. The way he laughed at your childish bedtime story. The first time he kissed you. His lashes brushing your cheek. The sound of his heartbeat at night, the strength in his embrace.

No. You were not this monster they were trying to turn you into. 

You were the life your brothers and sisters never got to have. 

The sunlight, the breeze, the snowflakes, the spring rain in your garden, and the summer air in you hair they never felt. You were living the memories they couldn’t.

You weren’t this. A puppet someone could easily manipulate over some ridiculous words. 

“No…” You felt your tears crashing in your hand full of shattered glasses. “I’m not…that.” 

You are not Hydra’s Frankestein. 

You are the faith you still hold for humanity—the goodness, the kindness you’ve seen. You are the broken fairy tales One and Two told you and your siblings to soothe your sorrowful nights

You are this precious jewel Steve treasured every time he hugged you, kissed you, or looked at you.

“Конфета,” Four sneered, delivering the next word.

But you fought back.

“No.”

Your eyes locked with his, burning with defiance.

“You wanna play, huh?” Frazer chuckled. 

“стена.”

Another shock hit your mind, but this time it didn’t knock you down. You stumbled but stayed standing, hearing Tony override the code. The wall would be down soon. You had to act before anyone else got hurt because of you.

Four stared in disbelief. He couldn’t understand how you were even resisting. 

So he rushed into it.

“Облако.”

You felt your body betray you, limbs refusing to respond. 

C’mon, focus. Stay focused. Everyone you love is on the other side of the wall, you couldn’t let them get hurt.

You lunged at the desk and ripped open the top drawer. God, what's all that noise? Stop the drums, stop that noise… please… You couldn't stay awake much longer. Damn it, where is it…Your hands desperately looking for something.

‘Зеленый.'

Four said again. And that command felt like a hammer that struck your head. You collapsed to your knees, your bloody hands finally finding it. An injection. Fuck, your vision was blurred; you couldn’t see the dosage.

'лес '. 

Nononono you couldn't wait, it was almost at the last word. So you didn't measure it, and you plunged the injection into your neck. God…! That hurts. You pressed all the content in you. 

Ok now…now we should be good. You were panting and sweating as you dropped the injection and came over your knees. Shit that was closed. Too closed.

Four looked stunned. He didn’t know what you’d done, but before he could react, Steve burst through the room like a storm and crashed his face with all the strength Captain America would have in a battlefield. You even heard the crack sound of their bones crashing. 

“Stop!” Maria shouted before Steve in all his fury, outraged and unstoppable, would kill the guy with his bare hands. “We need to track that retina layer! Stop!” She lunged and seized his arm, preventing him from striking further. 

Your mind recovered some senses as the words stopped, now all you felt was pain, but you managed to let out what you’d been holding in all day.

“Steve…”

That worked as a Hydra’s password to him, Steve felt he was woken up from a dream, and before you knew it, you were pressed into his embrace, his arms holding you tight yet gentle and with care, as if you were fragile as the most precious thing in the world. 

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, trembling as you tried to hold onto him. “I wanted to tell you…I…” God, his skin is so warm. You missed that the entire day. 

Steve froze. The ache on his chest made him paralyzed, he could barely speak. You were worried about him? Now? 

“It's ok…” He was feeling a lump form in his throat, his hand weaving through your hair, pressing you against him and kissing you on the forehead. 

“I’m here baby, it’s ok, you are ok…” He barely could put himself together. You were a mess—bloody, battered— and he was scared, so scared he can’t remember when was the last time he was falling apart like this. 

You were panting as your consciousness was losing it, giving in finally to the injection you put into yourself to paralyze you and prevent you from doing something you can’t manage. 

“Did you…get hurt?” You raised a hand and touched his face. You were fading, the injection taking its toll, dragging you into unconsciousness.

“Shit baby…” Steve pressed his forehead against yours, barely holding himself together. He couldn’t believe what you were saying: “That’s the last of my concerns.” 

But you were already slipping away.

Steve’s heart froze in his chest when he looked down and saw your eyes closed, your body limp against his. A cold wave of terror surged through him, threatening to pull him under. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, it was like the world had stopped spinning. He couldn't hear anything, not Tony, not Bruce, not even his own heartbeat. 

His entire focus narrowed to the sight of you—still, lifeless—like all the color had drained from you. His hand hovered over your face, trembling, afraid to touch you, afraid you wouldn’t respond.

“Hey…” His voice cracked, hoarse and broken. “Babe...?” 

Panic gripped him in a way he hadn’t felt since the war, since waking up alone in a world that had moved on without him. But this was worse, infinitely worse. His fingers found the pulse at your neck, but his heart refused to calm. What if it was fading? What if you were slipping away, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it?

"What...What's happening?" He could hear his own voice, vulnerable as ever. 

“What the f…?” Tony knelt next to Steve, grabbing the discarded syringe. 

Relief washed over him as he read the label.

“Oh, for god’s fucking sake…!” He passed it to Bruce, sinking to the floor. “It’s just a tranquilizer. She’s asleep. Damn, that was close.” He rubbed his face, still shaken. “That was the scariest thing ever. Shit.”

"Holy shit." Bruce and Maria leaned back too, releasing the breath they had been holding.

"Okay..." Commander Hill, always the first to pull herself together, stood up and exhaled in relief as she began to make sense of the chaos. 

"Let’s get her to the med bay. Now." Her voice was determined, but her movements were gentle. She patted a still-in-shock Steve softly on the shoulder. "Come on, Cap. We need to get her out of here. And there’s work to do." She tilted her head toward the unconscious Four on the floor.

Steve didn’t respond. He was panting, his body covered in cold sweat as Tony’s words sank in. It was...tranquilizer? You were ok? He was still holding you close, feeling the warmth of your skin, the quiet and steady rhythm of your breathing. And he could hear your heartbeat. 

He never really believed in God, but in that moment, he wanted to thank every deity in this world or beyond that you were still in his arms. Alive. Safe. 

And, God…he swore right then, he would never let this happen again. Whatever the hell had gone down tonight, he was so fucking sure that was never, EVER, happening again.

"Steve." Tony placed a hand on his shoulder as Sam and Natasha entered the room with the elite team to deal with Four. 

"Come on, buddy, let’s go. Look at her hands—she’s a mess. We’ve got to get her wounds treated." And make sure that brainwash thing is gone, Tony thought, but he didn’t say it aloud. With Steve still so on edge, he didn't want to end like Four on the floor.

Steve closed his eyes for a long moment, then tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer. He lifted you carefully, pressing a kiss to your forehead and inhaling your scent. You smelled like blood, and he felt a deep, crushing guilt. 

"Alright, let’s go." He finally spoke, his voice steady, though full of pain. "But I’m staying close." There was no way he was letting you out of his sight.

You inhaled sharply, and your eyes flew open, heart pounding in your chest. 

The room was bright, sterile, and the soft hum of Stark technology filled the air. 

Disoriented, you stared at the blinking machines and glowing monitors around you. Tubes and wires were connected to your arms, and a soft beep from the heart monitor echoed in the quiet space.

Flashbacks hit you hard. Four. The keywords. You injected yourself to prevent anyone from getting hurt. And you succeeded, didn’t you? Did anyone get hurt?

You remembered Steve being the first to approach you. Four was beaten down, wasn’t he? Is Steve okay? Is everyone ok?

“What the hell is this…” You muttered, frowning as you glanced at the data on the monitors. Then quickly decided you didn’t need any of it. You reached for the tubes, yanking them out one by one. The pain was sharp, but adrenaline dulled it. You didn’t care. You hated anything related to medical clinics, anything that reminded you of being in a lab, a subject of experimentation.

You pulled off the monitors, ignoring the rapid beeping as alarms blared. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stood shakily, your legs weak, your vision blurry.

“Damn…” you muttered, walking in a dizzy haze, trying to balance. You must have injected quite a dose of tranquilizer. How long had you been out? There were no windows, and the room’s enclosed space only heightened your panic. 

Barefoot, you rushed out and collided with Steve, who was rushing in, pale and shaken.

“What...What are you doing?!” His voice was agitated. Pulling out the tubes must’ve triggered an alarm. He immediately scooped you off the cold floor. “Are you okay?” He set you back on the bed and inspected your bruised and bleeding arms. “You’re freezing. You ok? You’re hurt? Do you want me to call the docs?”

“I…I…” You didn’t know what to say, so you just stretched out your arms and pulled him close, holding yourself to him and hugged him as tight as your weak strength allowed. 

“I missed you.”

You said in a low voice, closing your eyes, inhaling his skin, arms around his neck and feeling him. “I woke up and I wanted to see you…I was scared…” 

You felt a strange wave of vulnerability, the kind that made you feel like a child seeking comfort.

Steve stood rigid, his heart and soul settling back into place now that you were awake and in his arms. But he was also…furious. You had no idea how angry he had been, how the team had barely managed to contain his rage. He wanted to stay quiet, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“You were scared…now? You didn’t seem scared when you used yourself as bait and stood up against this guy alone…!” 

He wanted to shout it out, his voice was thick with frustration, fear, and anger, but he stopped. 

His arms remained gentle, holding you tightly. 

“What were you thinking? I was…You scared the shit out of me…I thought…” 

He cut himself off, tightening his grip around you, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips brushed against your hair as if he couldn’t bear to let go. He clenched his arms, flashing back to that moment when he was breathless, but now you were there. 

Thank God you are here.

Your arms around his neck, body against his, his arms holding onto your waist, He could smell your hair, could feel your warmth against his lips, and he didn’t want this moment to end. 

“I’m sorry… I wanted to tell you… And I knew you were looking for me, but I couldn’t look back. It would’ve given me away.” You looked up, cupping his face with a soft smile. 

Steve exhaled, his heart twisting in his chest. He clenched his jaw, his voice thick with emotion, still fighting to keep composure, he pulled you impossibly closer, holding you against him, his voice a shaky whisper.

 “Just promise me…promise me you won’t do such reckless…dangerous things again…ever.” 

Your fingers softly moved around his face, and gently kissed him, you pressed your forehead to his, calming and soothing his pain. 

You could hear his breath becoming softer and lower with your touch, you stood still, hugging and feeling him as you were comforted too. 

“Were you hurt?” you asked suddenly, remembering Steve knocking out Agent Frazer, unsure of how the events had played out. Breaking the hug, you looked him over. “You’re hurt!” You exclaimed, noticing his swollen, bleeding knuckles. “Steve, let me see. Is this bad? Are you in pain?”

“This?” He opened and closed his fist, showing you it was fine. “This is nothing… it hurt less than hitting a punching bag.”

“The Hulk container IS NOT a punching bag.” You carefully caressed his injured hand, your eyes welling up with tears. “Can you get it checked later? Does it hurt?”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He tightened his other arm around your waist, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

You hadn’t cried when you found out about your brother being alive, or later when you learned he was a fake. You hadn’t cried when you clenched your fist around glass to fight back the brainwashing. You hadn’t even hesitated when you injected yourself to save everyone.

But now, you were tearing up because of his bruised knuckles.

“I’m ok.” He said after a long pause. And it felt so clumsy. But he didn’t know how to describe the feeling he had right now. He couldn’t find the words. He wished there were some way to predict the future, to shield you from every upcoming danger, every pain, for the rest of your life.

“When can we go home?” You rubbed your eyes, you were exhausted, but you didn’t want to sleep here. 

Steve smiled at your mention of “home”, and thought about your secluded, private, little lab, full of sunshine and plants. Your home. Our home. That’s such a wonderful word. His voice softened as he helped you lie down.

“Soon, baby. Just rest, ok? You’ve been through too much today.” He adjusted the pillows and pulled a blanket over you. “Are you okay? Are you cold?”

“Yes.” You frowned and looked up at him. “I’m cold. I want you to hold me.” You moved aside, making room in the bed. “Now.”

You had never used that childish tone before, and it made Steve chuckle. Shaking his head, he climbed into bed beside you, holding you in his arms, your head resting on his chest. “Spoiled little brat.” He teased with a smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “My spoiled little brat.”

You inhaled deeply, resting your head against his chest, your favorite spot in the world where you could hear his heartbeat—the sound that made everything in the universe make sense. And when he thought you were asleep, you spoke, your voice clear.

“Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”

Your voice carried a sense of determination, and Steve sighed. He had it coming. Just not this soon. 

But then, he thought back to everything, and realized you were one of the bravest people he'd ever met. It didn’t surprise him that you were ready to talk.

“Only if you're sure.”

“Yes.” You smiled, propping yourself up on your elbow to meet his eyes. “I should’ve told you from the beginning.” You exhaled deeply. “I was just scared of becoming a disappointment.”

“What?” He turned to you, incredulous. “No… don’t say that. You could never be a disappointment. Ever.” His gaze was steady and unyielding. “Don’t ever think that.”

You kissed his fingers, pausing for a long moment before beginning.

“Once upon a time…” You stopped as he chuckled. “I’m kidding. Bedtime stories are supposed to be soothing. This one would give nightmares.”

Steve held your hand as he looked at you: “I’m here. And…no nightmare could ever keep me away from you.”

You smiled but stayed quiet for a long while, gathering your thoughts. Steve remained silent, wrapping his arm around you, gently twisting a strand of your hair between his fingers, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“We were twelve, as you might have guessed. I'm the last one.” Your voice was distant, soft, like whispering a dream from another lifetime.

“It started with One and Two. They were perfect, like gods—healthy, strong, fast, fierce. They had rapid healing, heightened reflexes, tolerance to extreme temperatures, and incredible immune systems. Like you. Or Apollo and Artemis. And of course, they weren’t enough. Hydra wanted more. They’ve always wanted more.”

You made a pause, those memories felt like thousands years ago.

“By the time they made Three, Four, and Five… One and Two had begun to… fail. They developed flaws.”

The fingers twirling your hair froze. Steve held his breath. He had thought about this ever since Natasha handed him your file, asking, ‘What do you think happened to the other eleven?’ He hadn’t answered, a terrible feeling gnawing at him that the others’ fates might have been far worse than yours.

“What kind of flaws?” You could hear his heartbeat quicken.

“Just…they weren’t flaws for me. But they stopped being perfect. Their immune system presented infections, something never happened before. Their recovery speed was not as fast as before, or they weren’t healing 100%. Or…speed decrease, lack of strength. And of course their minds started to … be uncontrollable or not manageable at all.” You sighed. 

Steve’s hand tightened slightly, a ripple of horror passing through him.

“Three, Four and Five presented earlier symptoms. Three was fast, but he lacked strength. Four was strong, but he wasn’t able to heal as fast as the rest. And Five was super smart but she was…weak. Well, not weak, normal.”

You paused, and smiled: “It was true, you know? The story Agent Frazer told. I was a great tree climber, and we used to have fun in that oak tree. But…” 

You felt Steve’s hand holding you tighter, and you hugged him back, your tone turned low.

“Four did that tricky thing of putting a rock on a pile of leaves. Seven hit against it so hard, and that’s right… he won’t stop bleeding, we headed to the base, and of course, got grounded as hell.” You inhaled: “Four died because of that. They sacrificed him, they were planning on doing so anyway, but it was used as a warning. They’ve put everything that ‘worked’ in Four, to ‘fix’ Seven.”

“What?” 

Steve felt every fiber on his body tensed, his chest growing tighter and tighter as you spoke, horrified at the realization of what Hydra had done.

“And of course, Seven didn’t last long either. He died about a year later. I think… he just couldn’t live with what was left of Four.” 

Your smile was thin, sad. “I saw the autopsy report. There was nothing physically wrong with him. He just…shriveled, or…died from a broken heart.”

You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself for the next revelation.

“And today…I didn’t stop Frazer right away because… I was curious.” 

You buried your face in Steve’s chest, as you were ashamed of this little wish.

“I wanted to know…I’ve always wanted to know, how my brothers and sisters would be like…if they’d grown up. I knew Frazer was a fraud, but I couldn’t help it. He was identical to Four…and Four…he was just a kid, a bright, playful, funny kid.”

Steve clenched his arms and held you tightly as you were shivering uncontrollably. He was shaking too, his teeth chattering, it was beyond anger, he felt his heart filled with sadness and despair. 

He tried to speak several times before his voice finally steadied. 

“You were a kid too.”

“I was not a kid.” You responded, surprisingly quiet. “I was the kid. I was…the final version.” You looked at his horrified eyes as his expression shifted. 

You lowered your eyes at his sight, and calmly continued the story: “One and Two passed away when I was young, very young, I still don’t know what happened to them. But Hydra…just continued experimenting, Seven was good, but then he … turned off when Four died, Eight died as a toddler I think. So they just kept going, taking things out of this one, adding to the other… until they got it to the right perfect model… or at least… to one that wasn’t deteriorating with time and maintained a regularity.”

You curved your lip as you looked at Steve.

“The last number of the great Hydra’s Dynasty. Frankenstein number Twelve.”

“I’m alive. Because my brothers and sisters died.” 

Steve was in horror.

This pang in his chest, he didn’t know if he wanted to destroy something, vomit, or just…take the time stone, go back in time, and burn all Hydra’s bases he’d known down to the ground until they were ashes and dust. Until the very last of them were fucking burning and screaming in hell.

“They died so Hydra could have a perfect soldier?” His voice was barely more than a growl. “They were…torn apart so you could exist?”

“Well, it’s not like I have Eight’s eyes or Ten’s arms.” You looked at your hands. “It’s like…their DNA, their…existence, were transmitted to me. A prototype that succeeded, but the original versions…just didn’t make it.”

Your voice was like a faint ghost as you observed yourself.

“You know my powers, right? I can see…the components or layers of solid things when I want to. Not all the time, but it gives me a great advantage with stuff like machinery, weapons, gear, construction…I think I have Five’s intelligence too, and some of Three’s speed, or even a shadow of One and Two’s strength. And Eleven’s sense of humor—I’ve always thought we were twins…but this power…It’s only in me.”

“And it used to work on humans too, if I wanted it to.” You sighed in sadness and sorrow. “There’s something I haven’t told anyone, no one knows…not even Tony.” 

You intertwined your fingers with Steve’s, confessing in a calm voice.

“There’s something…in every living being, within their layers and layers of components, something impossible to explain—something divine, and impossible to replicate. And that’s like a golden thread.”

You traced a line in the air as Steve held his breath. 

“I see it as a line of golden glitter. Some shine more than others, like yours…yours is like a strong ray of sunshine, like all the stars in the sky unified within your being. That’s life. Or…the divine power of life.”

Steve held his breath in awe. There was something incredibly beautiful within the horrors you had to endure. He suddenly remembered all the plants in your lab and home, the leaves cascading from the ceiling, growing strong everywhere. He could picture it—the stunning view you’d have, all those waterfalls and cascades of golden strings, of living life.

He hesitated before speaking, his voice as gentle as he could make it: “And…you don’t use your powers on humans anymore?”

“No. I shut it down. Or it shut itself down…” You shook your head. “Hydra used my powers to make their experiments more…efficient. But my brain, or my powers, were too important. They didn’t dare experiment on me with something that might go wrong. I only had one brain procedure—the one that implanted all these keywords.”

You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes. 

“They didn’t brainwash me…So I remember everything. I was forced to participate in the experiments on my siblings. I didn’t know…I thought I was helping them heal, but they lied. I was part of it…!” 

Your breath quickened as the memories flooded back.

“I could see them. I could see how their life threads faded, losing their shine little by little. Strong, sparkling golden glitter slowly fading, disappearing. Like a spark extinguished…absorbed by nothingness. And after my last sister, Nine, passed away, I just…this power of seeing layers on human, it went off. I can only see threads in living beings now, nothing else.”

A terrible silence fell across the room. Only the soft beeps of the medical machines echoed through.

Steve sat up straight. He didn’t want to let go of your hand, your touch, but his body just reacted. It was too much, even for him. Your words were calm and serene, but the horrors and the cruelty behind them cut through him like a knife, piercing his soul and breaking him down.

He didn’t know what to say because…what was left to say? There was no comfort, no kindness, nothing that could soothe what you’d been through.

The fact that you remembered everything, that you saw brainwashing as a gift because you had witnessed every death, with genuine hope and devotion that you were helping, only to find out the goal was for you to be the perfect prototype. The guilt you must’ve felt, the despair of watching those threads try to hold on to life before they faded…

The image of you standing alone in this world after your last sibling was gone, facing all that darkness by yourself…he couldn’t imagine it.

“And then, everything is history.” Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

“The project ended when Dr. Erskine actually succeeded in creating something…combined. I went into a cryostasis pod that eventually shut down. I don’t know for how long. Then one day, I just woke up in an empty facility, in the dark, and escaped. Natasha found me in the mountains. I think the lab sent out some kind of signal Tony detected, and she was sent to scan the place.”

You were relieved that your story had finally ended, or at least, the nightmare part. 

But Steve was stiff. 

He felt…waves of guilt crashing over him.

What year was that? When did all of that happen to you? Where was he? Could he have changed anything? If he had tried harder…if he had discovered Hydra's remnants in SHIELD earlier…could he have saved you?

“And I was…where?” He murmured to himself, trying to remember. “Wakanda…and then…it was the Blip…and I…I never knew…that you were here…until the night we met.”

“Steve…” You frowned, sitting up and placing a hand on his back. “I’ve told you already, what happened to me is not a weight for you to carry. I’m here now. And I’m with you. I’m safe.”

“Safe?” He could hardly bear the guilt and pain he felt. “Safe how? Look at you…you’re…” He took your hand, bandaged and scarred from all the glass and needles you’d endured. “How can you say you are safe…with me?”

He exhaled, his voice low as he suddenly tightened, his stomach twisting in pain. He didn’t know where to begin expressing the emotions, the guilt, the responsibility he felt for all of this.

“I should’ve been there. I should’ve stopped this. If I had tried harder, been faster, I should have protected you, saved you…if I’d just been there…”

“You did.” You put a hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face you. You could see all the emotions swirling inside him. “You did.” You spoke softly but firmly. 

“You ended Hydra, twice. I wasn’t used during the War, or after. And when you ended them for good, I was free. You set me free.”

Steve was panting. He couldn’t feel anything else but pain. There was a huge lump in his chest and throat that intensified when you said that. The word you used—“used”—how could anyone in the world apply that verb to you? His heart ached so deeply that it took all his willpower not to break something.

You could see him suffering, so you caressed his cheek.

“And…” You cupped his face, your voice gentle. 

“And I had this new identity. I met Natasha, Tony…all these new friends, all this good in the world. I don’t need to hide anymore. I can live under the sunshine, see the sunrise, feel the wind, touch the grass. I even saw the sea for the first time, I had ice cream… And…” 

You inhaled, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I got to meet the love of my life.”

“God…!”

The word escaped Steve like a desperate prayer.

Steve pulled you in, holding you so tightly that it felt like he wanted you to melt into his body. 

He clenched his jaw, trying to fight back all the emotions tearing him apart. But it was nothing compared to the agony that tore him apart inside. 

You had suffered so much—more than he could bear to imagine—and yet you were here: Kind. Good. Pure. Selfless. All those beautiful words Natasha and Tony used to describe you and yet he thought they weren’t enough. 

He pressed his face into your hair, his breath ragged, trying to fight back the tears that stung his eyes. Why hadn’t he been there? Why hadn’t he saved you sooner? He could have spared you so much pain, so much suffering, if only he had known, if only he had been there before the scars ever formed.

He clutched you tighter, as if holding you close enough might erase the past, might undo all the hurt. But he knew it wouldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take it away. And all he could do was hold you, trying desperately to protect you from any more harm, even as the weight of his guilt bore down on him, suffocating and relentless.

You held him back. You could feel his heart trembling and his soul aching. So you pressed a deep kiss to his cheek.

“It’s in the past,” you said softly. “I’m here now… hey, hey, look at me.” 

You cupped his face, and your vision blurred as tears fell. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want to upset you, but I’m here now, and I’m just… so grateful, so happy… I’ve never felt this way until I met you, so… fearless, like… like the universe has rewarded me with this… rebirth, with meeting you, and loving you, and…”

“Stop.” It was more than Steve could take.

His voice was broken. 

“Stop. I…” He inhaled deeply and gently wiped away your tears. He needed to say something before your selfless, pure words continued to break his heart.

“I love you.” He breathed. 

The words came out like a sacred vow, a promise sealed with every heartbeat. He’d been holding them back for too long—since this morning, no, since the first day, since the moment he held his breath when he saw you for the first time. 

He spoke it like a promise written in the stars, one he would carry until the end of all things. Until his blood thickens into frozen ice, his bones crumble to ashes, and his soul dissolves into starlight, fading into cosmic dust at the very edge of time and the farthest reaches of eternity—he will love you.

You gazed into his eyes, a smile breaking through the tears. “I love you too.” 

You wiped away the tear that traced down his cheek. 

“And we’ll have new memories. We’ll make a new life. And we’ll be together. And we’ll be happy.”

“Yes.” He smiled through the pain and heartbreak, swearing as a sacred vow, his voice a little choked as he clung to you just as tightly.

“Yes. We will. I promise. We’re gonna be so damn happy…”

Steve waited until you had fallen asleep. 

After everything—the confessions, the heart-wrenching words—you had been exhausted. He’d made sure you rested, gently insisting until your breathing slowed into sleep.

In the silence of the night, he walked quietly to the command room. It was empty now, the weight of the day still hanging in the air. He pulled up the files—yours, and your eleven siblings’—onto the big screen.

A deep sigh slipped from his lips.

There you were. Blurred, black-and-white images of childhoods interrupted, dreams shattered, lives stolen far too soon.

“Jarvis.” His voice broke the stillness, steady yet heavy. “Do I have overwrite authorization to change the ID names?”

“Yes, Captain.” Jarvis replied, his tone as polite as ever. “Would you like to change the names of these files and subjects?”

“Yes.” Steve’s gaze lingered on your face, captured in that haunting picture. “Change them all. M and the ID number.” He said with resolve, his words carrying the weight of a decision long made.

“In an instant, Captain.” came Jarvis’s response. The screen flickers briefly as the files change, HE00X to M00X, twelve names, twelve identities, rewritten in seconds.

Steve stared at the screen, his expression grave, but something deeper stirred inside him. 

This was it—the meaning he wanted to give your siblings, like an unspoken monument on their unseen graves. 

Something none of you knew, because the world hadn’t been kind, or good, or fair enough to tell you. But he had known it right away, the moment you spoke about that beautiful golden thread that was within every living being.

You weren’t experiments. 

You were this new name, and he couldn’t thank the universe enough for that.

The twelve of you were this name.

M.

For Miracle.

The End

Continue to:

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

Woohoo...OMG I cried so much writing this ;_; thank you for reading thus far, hope you enjoyed the...intensity and the angst? xD

So I've been struggling with the name of the series, I was going to call it something like 'the golden thread', but then this image of Steve changing their ID names with this conviction and seriousness appeared in my mind as I was wrapping up Chapter 5, and it was something that's...so him, that's definitenly something he would do. So the name just popped up itself, I think I'll call it 'Miracle Nr. 12'. What do you think?

Ok so Chapters 6 & 7 are wrapped up already, I'll see you next Friday! Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist ;)

Taglist: @steviebbboi / @jamneuromain / @heletsmelovehim

Love.,

Moon.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Wrong One 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Raymond Smith

Summary: You get caught up in the double lives of your employers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hitch up the cloth bag on your shoulder, another in your hand, flat soles scuffing over the geometric stonework of the walkway. You take the single step up and pass between the perfectly trimmed hedges. You press your phone between cheek and shoulder as you key in the code to the punch pad with definitive beeps.

"Yes, Mrs. Malfort would like the delivery tomorrow morning," you confirm, "yes, please... mhmm."

You push inside and set the bag in your hand on the side table. You slip the other down your arm and put it with the other. You rest your phone between them, gripping the edge as you lift a foot to unlace your shoe.

You look up as you sense movement in the mirror mounted above the table and gasp. Suddenly, you're taken off your feet as a man in a mask clamps his gloved hand over your mouth. You squeak into the leather paw and kick you as you grasp his wrist. What the hell is going on?

The man grunts as you wriggle against him, his other arm hooking around your middle. Another man appears from the next doorway and grabs your legs. Your panic surges as you claw and writhe. You don't understand what's going on.

"Christ," the one at your back growls through his throat, "this one's fiesty."

"Stop fucking around," the other deliberately lowers his voice an octave.

"Tell me to stop, eh?" The first man brings his thick arm around your neck, flexing against your throat until you're breathless.

"Now, sweetheart, you just be still and close your eyes," the other purrs, "I'm sure ya do it all the time for yer old man."

Your eyes round and you whimper, tugging at the forearm beneath your chin. Your eyes fill with tears as adrenaline floods your veins. You don't understand. You just went to get groceries.

You squeak as a prick jabs through your jeans. You spasm, frantically trying to free yourself as an acidic heat seeps into you. No, no, what did he just do. There's a tink against the floor as the man nearly loses hold of your ankles.

"Fuck!" The one by your head grits out.

"Won't take the long," the other assures, "give her a minute."

You shudder as you feel the heaviness spread through you. Your muscles ache and your vision blurs. This can't be happening. It's not happening!

You blink, black spots speckling before you as you go limp between the man. You hang between them, twitching as you fight the rising tide of darkness. Your eyes roll back and your head pulses violently. You succumb to the void, terrified you might never see light again.

➰️

There's a thick sheet between you and the world. Lights are fuzzy, colours are dull, and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The steady tempo breaks only as your breaths rise and fall shallowly. Your muscles tingle, toes numb, fingers throbbing.

You groan and try to move, your head lolling as you lack the strength to lift it. You cough through your dry throat, lashes fluttering, blinking through the fog. You manage to open them fully, staring at your own lap.

A tight restraint bites into your wrists and each ankle. You slump in the chair, arms drawn behind you. Your chest racks as you suck down air and try to find some semblance of strength.

You wince as something clicks. You shiver as the cool air seeps through your cotton polo, raising bumps on your exposed arms. A door swings open with the soft whisper of hinges and measured footsteps approach.

A hand reaches to lift your chin and your head wobbles as you look up at a masked figure. The scene crashes into you like a wave. If you weren't tied to a chair, it would knock you on your ass.

Through the slits of the dark mask, blue eyes gleam and the man leans in. He has broad shoulders and smells of lavender and sandalwood. He searches your face as you try to do the same to him, finding only the ribbed black fabric over obscured features.

"Shit," he whispers as he lets you go. Your head droops back down and he backs up hurriedly, "oi, morons."

The door slams blocking out his holler and you moan. Everything hurts. The world is like an echo of itself. Distant and bleary.

Silence. It's only you and the dark room, lit by a single lamp that casts shadows over covered furniture. White sheets over lumpy shapes that could be sofas, chairs, and tables. The walls are laid with antiquated wallpaper and dark walnut siding. In another lifetime, this room was cozy and welcoming.

The door opens again, jarring you from your dazed wanderings. You look up, getting your head a little higher than before. Three men in masks near and stop before you.

"Are you sure it's the wrong one, boss?" The man, the tallest of the bunch, on the right asks.

"I'm fucking sure," the center one retorts, "Did you even look at her?"

"Well, she walked in the front door so--"

"So you assumed?" The middle one snarls, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with..." he waves his hands towards you. He huffs and steps closer, bending to look you in the eye, "who the fuck are ya?"

You lift your head a little higher and quiver, reciting your name clumsily.

"And why the fuck are you strolling around the Malforts'?" He sneers.

"I..." you murmur and flick your lashes up, "I'm the maid."

He stands straight and spins, throwing up his hands, "the fucking maid!" He smacks the men as he passes between them and storms out.

The men look over at each other through the slits of their masks.

"So what d'ya think we do with her?" The left one asks.

"Good question..." the other sucks his teeth, "s'pose we let him cool down and ask.”

[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: Carmy’s Vital Signs

One of the most fascinating things about The Bear is the full body acting from Jeremy Allen White. As with any performance, as an actor he makes many intentional choices, but there are several that I have noticed that are so in the moment and realistic, his body experiences them as his character. His actual vital signs—body temperature, pulse rate, breathing rate, blood pressure—are all a part of his character and are often visible onscreen, making it very hard to differentiate between the performer and the performance. He is so immersed in the character, you can’t help but worry about him and his health, both as a character and as an actor, to the point where his acting often feels dangerous. He surrenders himself and his body so fully, it is absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Below are several examples from season 1 and season 2.

Season 1:

Carmy and Sydney Meet

The scene where Carmy meets Sydney for the first time immediately struck me. Because of their undeniable chemistry, you very quickly get the sense that they just “get” each other. Sydney glides in and literally gives Carmy the breath of life he’s been missing. She wakes him up and reminds him who he is as much as who he could be. Carmy’s eyes show us everything in this scene and all that he’s been through leading up to this moment. It’s all there. The deep, deep sadness, grief, the exhaustion, how traumatized he is, beaten down, burnt out, sleep deprived, and desperately in need of help. He looks sick. When Sydney says, “I know who you are”, his face cocks to the side and his eyes lock into hers. He looks hypnotised by her. He says “oh yeah?”, but his eyes say, “No, I’ve forgotten. I’m exhausted and beaten down. Please help me remember. Let me be what you see.” And she does. Watch the scene again and listen to his breathy exhalation when she says “you’re the most excellent CDC…”It’s as if by being seen and understood by Sydney, the spell is broken and he can finally, actually breathe again. The relief of this moment, due to her belief in him and how she’s sees him is the first time we ever see him smile.

The Phone Call

This scene really made an impression the first time I saw it and it continues to. Carmy picks up the ringing phone and it’s a call from someone he doesn’t know named Nico. This person asks if Michael is around and in this moment Carmy goes through so many emotions. He is so caught off guard to be asked about Michael that he literally says, “Uh, uh, no. No, no. He’s not here this second.” If you watch closely, when he hears Michael’s name his pulse instantly elevates to the point where you can see the vein on the left side of his neck throbbing. As the scene goes on he starts to tense up and becomes weak and eventually has a panic attack that leaves him with a pounding heartbeat, so severe he has to sit down and then get out of there, as fast as possible. It’s an incredible moment of physical acting where the actors’s body is truly serving as a vessel for the character.

Fights with Richie

In this scene, Carmy is fighting with Richie over the C health code rating The Beef just received. Carmy believes it’s Richie’s fault since he left cigarettes by the burners, when in reality, it was Carmy’s fault. Carmy and Richie scream at each other and it gets physical. He’s so angry in this moment, his face slowly becomes completely flushed red, and his forehead stays pale. His pulse slams against his neck veins. I don’t know how many takes this scene took, but to achieve this level of body acting, even once, is incredible. The actor’s body doesn’t know that they are acting, it responds as if it’s a real moment they are experiencing.

In the scene above, Carmy and Richie are again fighting. This time, because Richie admits to selling drugs out of the back alley of The Beef and Carmy finds out. Is this what Carmy’s dad used to do at The Beef? Uncle Jimmy mentioned they last fought about drugs, among other things. The idea of selling drugs is so triggering for Carmy, it made me think there is a backstory here that has to do with his family. Carmy also finds out it was Michael’s idea to sell the drugs. This revelation both devastates and infuriates Carmy with such equal measure that he simultaneously looks like his going to burst into tears and completely explode. Look at the tears in his eyes. Look at the gripping tension he’s holding in his neck. You can just feel his heart rate rising as the scene progresses. It’s another incredible moment where this actor is literally giving his full body to service the story.

Sydney Quits

One of the worst moments in the series for Carmy is when Sydney quits. She’s calm, but she gets in his face with her final words. Given Carmy’s severe abandonment issues, and how much he needs Sydney and wants her there with him, this moment clearly devastated him. He practically doubles over. When Sydney walks out, so does his ability to breathe. He is struggling for air. His face, which normally becomes flushed and red in moments of extreme duress does something different here. He’s in such agony, his face completely drains of all color. He turns white as a sheet. This response, to me, signaled a different type of deep, deep emotional pain. How the actor was able to control his body to exhibit these internal emotions externally is remarkable.

Al-Anon Share

In acting, a performer always has to be thinking about their moment before—what were they just doing, what moment did they just come from, and how is that impacting them in this particular moment? When Carmen attends Al-Anon in the season 1 finale, he is coming from all the events that took place previously, including a traumatizing nightmare, which he awakens from violently and painfully. He’s regretting everything he did the day before, he’s hearing his brother’s voice, and he hasn’t slept well or rested, maybe in months, or years for that matter. Physically in this scene, it makes sense for him to look dishsheveled. He goes a step further though. In this scene, and often in the series, he literally looks like he’s running a fever. Once Carmy starts opening up, we see sides of him we have never seen before. One striking moment is when he’s sharing that Michael used to tell him “let it rip.” When he shares this, he almost seems a little embarrassed. In this moment of raw and open vulnerability, he blushes, and his face flushes, slowly. He then smiles, so sweetly. The fact that his character feels embarrassment and his actual face will flush, on command, as a performer, will never fail to astonish me. You can’t plan for your body to have that reaction. You can’t fake it either. He is living in all of Carmy’s moments with his own flesh and blood.

Sydney Comes Back

In the season finale, Carmy discovers the money his brother has left for him to pursue their shared dream of opening a restaurant together, The Bear. While Carmy and the team are opening the cans where Michael left the hidden money, Sydney appears. She again glides in and reminds him who he is and who he can be. But this time it’s different, this time she reminds him who she is too. Carmy then envisions what they could do—what they could be—together. Carmy has missed her so much, he regrets their last minutes together, but in this moment, all that fades away. He breathes, easily and deeply at the sight of her. Every cell in his body bends towards her. Carmy’s eyes invite her in to build the restaurant with him as much as his words do. His pupils actually dilate when he first sees her and looks into her eyes. Again, these are not physical acting choices that you can just plan or manipulate. Your body has to be going through these emotions for them to present themselves in the way that they do.

————————————————————————

Season 2

Season 2 of The Bear is different. To me, they have messed with the actor’s face in a way that has taken away a huge part of what makes him uniquely compelling. He lives in the moment, he acts with his whole being. He lets his eyes, body, and skin all tell the story. What they’ve done to his face this season is very noticeable to me. Carmy, as a character is stressed, exhausted and haggard. He doesn’t take care of himself and he’s not vain. It’s a huge disconnect to see him looking flawless in certain scenes, with no color showing through anywhere on his face, like he just had a facial. It doesn’t make sense for the character and it limits him and what he brings as an actor. His skin often looks like glass this season, and whatever fancy stuff they did to him took away his ability to have his emotions show through his skin at the level they did last season, which is a huge reason why the performance felt so visceral and real. They saw his emotive skin flushing and imperfections as a liability, when in fact, they are an incredible asset. He doesn’t look like anyone else, and it’s real and refreshing to see onscreen. I wish they didn’t take that away from him.

Despite what they did, he is such a good actor, he pushes through and can still physically convey the heart of what Carmy is feeling in each moment. Below are several moments that made a huge impression.

Scene with Claire

The first time I watched this scene I had to pause and watch again. Why does it feel so awkward? Among other things, it’s because Carmy is not breathing properly. Watch it again but this time only listen to his breathing. He is so distressed, talking about the fire suppression he can barely get enough air. You would think Claire’s presence would calm him down but she doesn’t. He can’t accept the moment. At times, he is subtly gulping air and his voice is shaky in a way that the scene doesn’t necessarily warrant. This was a huge indicator to me that something is wrong. It feels very off. He is so ill at ease and tense. Speaking of moments before, Carmy later reveals in this episode that the previous night he had a “gnarly panic attack.” So in this scene, he presumably had a very rough night and did not sleep well. He’s very worried about the test, waiting for the other shoe, and is self conscious about if what he’s saying is boring to Claire. All of these anxieties impact him and he’s having a lot of trouble stilling himself and calming down. We now know that Claire is not Carmy’s calm, or his peace, or his safe place—that’s Sydney. We don’t fully know that until the next episode. It’s as if the actor internalized that truth and is giving us a clue to it now. This is subtle, expert character work and an extremely difficult physical action to fake as an actor. He would have to be so keyed into the subconscious emotions of the character to let these nervous ticks run through his body. I’m telling you, watch the scene again and only listen to how much trouble he has breathing in certain moments. It’s not normal how tense he is here and an incredible foreshadowing into what we later learn he needs that actually soothes him and calms him down—Sydney.

Panic Attack in the Alley

In episode 9, cracks come to the surface, what’s done (literally) in the dark comes to the light, and Carmy is forced to physically deal with what he’s been suppressing emotionally. He experiences the worst panic attack we have ever seen him go through. He’s gotten so much worse and because of the incredible full body acting in this moment, it’s painful to watch. The conversation about this scene, rightly so, focuses on how Carmy thinks of Sydney to bring down his panic and breathe, but let’s talk about the physical acting for a minute. He’s shaking uncontrollably, every muscle is tightly wound and coiled. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t breathe. His skin is red and burning up with tension. He looks like a freight train is running through his body. His face contorts like he’s swallowing bile and is about to vomit. His acting is so real it is distressing to watch. Because he puts his body through so much, we are right there with him in every moment. We can truly feel what he’s feeling. He looks like he’s in real pain.

Eventually in this moment, Carmy focuses on Sydney—the first time he saw her face and when she came back to him, affirming words she’s told him about who he is and how she sees him. He’s kneeling at this point and is finally able to suspend his suffering, lower his panic, calm himself down and breathe. The flush on his face starts to lessen. The fever breaks and starts to come down as he focuses on Sydney and only Sydney. This is all conveyed without a single word from the actor. A montage shows us what he’s thinking, but the emotional stakes of this scene rely entirely on the actor’s ability to use his body to let us in so we can feel what he’s experiencing, and he delivers.

Carmy and Sydney Under the Table

The scene under the table is so tender and beautiful it brought me to tears. It’s a moment of truth, reckoning, concern, care, and yes, love, between the two of them. Carmy creates an environment that is gentle and safe, and Sydney softens and blossoms in a way that we have not seen before. There are moments that are so intimate, still and low it��s as if they are speaking to each other softly while laid out across each other’s chests. Sydney shares her fears and Carmy essentially tells her, “it’s ok. I’m here. We’re in this together. You’re safe with me and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Physically, in this moment, Carmy is so attentive, and so at peace with Sydney that time literally stands still. They are in their own dimension. We are so used to seeing Carmy in motion, thrashing around and stressed, that this scene and the way that it’s acted feels like a deliverance. He creates a sanctuary for Sydney to feel safe. The physicality and voice of the actor creates this moment. They are 25 minutes to open, and his eyes are gentle, his voice is as soft as it’s ever been, he’s breathing steady and easy. He’s gently moving his hand but not out of frantic energy. He can’t soothe her with touch so he soothes her with words. This scene is a revelation in how the actor shows us Sydney’s impact on Carmy. In her presence, his entire nervous system is completely and finally relaxed and at ease.

——————————————————————-

All of what this actor gives and does as a performer engenders so much empathy for the character that his feelings become ours. We exhale when he does, and it actually hurts to watch him suffer. We worry about him, and his health, and care about his feelings. I think that’s why people have connected with this show so much. The rest of the cast is fantastic, but if we do not feel for Carmy and care about him as a character, the show does not work. He knows this, puts his body on the line, and gives it his all. He deserves the awards he had received for this role and I hope we get to see him continue this character in a season 3 and beyond.

Pay. The. Actors.

©️moments-on-film 2023

[andrewisdoing]

Things That Definitely Made Me GAY (Part 2):

MUSIC ICONS: Part of my Coming Out would be incomplete without the music that found me during that time. I’d wager my survival had every bit to do with the singers, songwriters and entertainers I was playing at the time. I especially credit Madonna, Janet Jackson, Barbara Streisand and Rufus Wainwright. They were the unexpected heroes in my ears everyday reminding me it was okay to embrace the dramatic, funny, complex, sexual situations of life in song.

FILMS: I am a firm believer that people are always searching for bits of themselves in the movies. So, being the teen I was, I wanted to find parts of my being in the movies to be affirmed that I wasn’t alone. Whether it was a documentary or rom-com, I wanted to escape into a potential future or an idea of what it looked like to be a gay man in 2009. Documentaries were a gift from heaven because I got to see where we had been and where we were going. I still feel that way as a 30 year old. I feel like I still am eager to see stories of us and find parts of myself on celluloid.

VOGUEING/PARIS IS BURNING: This movie quite simply changed and saved my life in a LOT of ways. When Madonna’s Vogue (BEST SONG FOREVER ON REPEAT) came into my life, my godmother introduced to me to the Houses of New York City, the Ballrooms and the origins of Vogueing. I had never felt so seen as a black gay person in a film prior to seeing PIB. It was the antidote to existing in a suburb in Washington. To know I wasn’t alone in the world and that there was a place beyond Washington where people like me exist, was (and still is) the greatest gift anyone, especially from kin, could’ve given me.

QUEER AS FOLK: THIS SHOW TOOK ME THERE. I remember hiding the box sets at many friends’ houses when I first had come out. While the show can be a bit dated, the stories and original characters really shaped what being a part of the LGBTQ+ community could potentially be as I grew into adulthood.

HISTORY: When I first came out, I made it my personal mission to read up on all things gay history to understand who came before me and whose footsteps I was walking behind. I found so much solace in the bravery we displayed as a community. I know that I am free to be me because of the folks who came before me. I hope that as time goes on, we discover more unsung gay heroes.

HEROES: I went out to of my way to find people who were like me and people who had the same interests as me. Finding people who made me feel understood and created the work to express all the facets of not only the human experience but the gay experience. Whether it be through dance, poetry, filmmaking or photography, I credit these artists for saving my life through their work.

FATSO: Some kids first cartoon crushes were Aladdin, Hercules, HELL, I could even bet that some had crushes on The Beast, BEFORE HE BECAME HUMAN! Me? Mine was (and still is) Fatso. Some have read him as a queer coded character and for my sake, I really hope that it’s true.

PORN & The Pornstars That Make Em’ : As weird as it may seem, discovering Porn really helped me feel liberated and free to understand my sexuality and what I really liked. Also..boy, oh boy, the men and the videos that still to this day..get me off is a list that’s too long to count. From Zeb Atlas to Tom Katt, these men served the fantasies that were so hot and beefy, I still can’t believe my eyes. Being gay certainly has its perks.

NOAH’S ARC: In the same vein as QAF, Noah’s Arc made me feel not only seen as a gay man but as a black man. I love that the show gave the community so many versions of our existence. Making us more than a side character or the uplifting and sassy character, at that. We were portrayed as human and proof that we exist.

[anto-pops]

The Promise of Tomorrow - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: “As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian attending the Yule Ball together before he whisks you away to the Room of Requirement to do exactly what you might think.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, Garreth wearing Aunt Tessie's robes

This was HEAVILY inspired by @sallowly 's Yule Ball animation which can be found here ! The dress/Sebastian's suit are directly referenced from her work. I'm eternally grateful for being given the chance to build off of her creation ♡

The full fic can also be found here on Ao3 as per usual

“What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” 

Sebastian gaped openly at Garreth, internally fighting the laugh that threatened to spill forth from his mouth despite his best efforts to smother it. The Gryffindor was decked out in quite possibly the most atrocious set of dress robes he’d ever seen, and judging by the look on the red-head’s face, he knew it too. It was frilly and lined with lace, and the material looked like a curtain that had been snagged off a window and stitched into something resembling clothes. 

Garreth’s face contorted into a pained expression, chancing a look down at himself and curling his hands into loose fists. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m sure you don’t,” Sebastian remarked, lifting his glass to his lips in a bid to hide his growing smile. “Can I guess? Please let me guess–”

“No,” came his flat reply. 

“What is it?” Ominis asked curiously, turning away from the long table of finger foods to join in the conversation. Unlike Weasley, he looked like the epitome of poised finesse in his dark, tailored suit. “Whatever it is, it smells old.” 

“Oh, it looks old too. Seriously, where on Earth did you find such an antique?” Sebastian teased, and Garreth’s eyes made a full trip around their sockets before he waved off the jab. 

“Ha ha, very funny. If you must know, these have been in the Weasley family for years–” 

“Clearly.” 

“Oh would you shut up? I get it, believe me, I know. My mother wouldn’t let me get away with not wearing them though, she kept pestering me about ‘tradition’ and a bunch of other pointless nonsense. I was fighting a losing battle trying to convince her otherwise.” 

Ominis chuckled softly under his breath and twirled his wand idly between his fingers, “And you didn’t think to just change into something more fitting of the nineteenth century because…” he trailed off, the question hanging silently in the air. 

Garreth grumpily shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned, looking over his shoulder towards the massive entryway leading into the Great Hall. Professor Weasley was standing watch, ushering students in with practiced ease, and when she caught sight of her nephew staring, her smile was enough to give away precisely why the Gryffindor had been forced to endure his family's horrendous dress code. “My aunt would rat me out in a second if I did. Look, can we just forget about the hideous outfit already? I need a drink.” 

Sebastian had half a mind to offer Garreth the stolen flask of Firewhiskey tucked away in his suit, but he was honestly more inclined to save it for himself. Unbeknownst to his friends, he was wound tighter than a spring, the anticipation coursing through his veins causing him to shake his leg to dispel the nervous jitters he’d been dealing with since arriving. While he’d gone on plenty of dates with you in the last few years, this would be the first time the two of you attended something so formal as a couple. Asking you to the Yule Ball had nearly put him in the ground with how anxious he’d been– but attending the dance together was a completely different story. 

He wanted the night to go perfectly. 

His expectations were driving him up the damn wall. If there was one thing Sebastian hated more than anything, it was surprises, and that’s exactly what tonight was. One giant, looming unknown that had him thinking circles around himself. Dancing wasn’t the issue– he was great at that. It wasn’t even the hundreds of prying eyes that would be glued to you both when you eventually arrived, because he was more than used to the attention that came with dating the Hero of Hogwarts. 

No, Sebastian was simply nervous to finally put his long awaited plan into action. 

Everything was already set up in the Room of Requirement for later, so all he had to do was make it through the bulk of the evening without combusting or making a fool of himself. He could do that… right?

“Your nerves are showing, Sebastian,” Garreth teased as he leaned over the endless selection of food and drinks. His green eyes were crinkled in amusement as he observed the nonstop tapping of the brunet’s foot, and Ominis hummed in agreement. 

“I’ve been listening to him fidget for the last twenty minutes. I don’t know why girls take so long to get ready– I’m tempted to go and find his date so he’ll finally relax.”

Garreth laughed, and in the split second following, Sebastian saw his eyes land on something over his shoulder and widen comically. “No need for that… damn.” 

Nothing could have prepared Sebastian for the sight that graced him when he turned around. 

There you were, looking equal parts ethereal and powerful. Your dress was like nothing he had ever seen before; it was the darkest, most striking shade of black, rippling around your legs as though it were made of liquid as you strode through the arched doorway with your head held high. Embroidered down the side and along the strapless neckline were tiny gold leaves that reflected against the candles floating overhead, giving you a regal appearance that put even Ominis to shame. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Sebastian swore that as you walked further into the room, some of the leaves from your dress trailed behind you and dissipated into shimmering dust. 

You twisted your hands together nervously as your eyes scanned the massive crowd, searching for the one person who could make existing in such an overwhelming environment bearable. Sebastian’s legs started to move of their own accord, carrying him away from the table and closer to you at the same time your neck swiveled in his direction, and the way your entire face lit up when you spotted him imbued him with the confidence that he’d been lacking minutes prior. 

Everything else was muted during those tentative seconds it took him to reach you, and once he came to stop in front of you with his drink still loosely gripped in his hand, it was as if no one else existed within the cavernous ballroom– only the two of you. For a moment, all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open like a fish. The flush that spread across your cheeks had his heart doing acrobatics in his chest, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat before setting his glass down on an empty platter floating by. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, flashing him an easy smile in an attempt to conceal your timorous demeanor. He didn’t need to know that you’d spent five minutes outside with Poppy talking you off the metaphorical ledge and fanning you frantically with her hands. 

“Hey,” he replied, instantly cringing at the dry greeting. He quickly added, “I don’t think words can do you justice, if I’m being honest. You look otherworldly, darling.”

Sebastian’s words did wonders to school your nerves, a wave of warmth settling over you like a blanket. The soft smile that spread across your plush lips made his heart flip in his chest, and when he held out his hand for you to take, the tension in your shoulders slipped away. “Thank you, you look rather dashing yourself. Green continues to be your color,” you mused as your palm met his upturned one, intertwining your fingers through his longer ones easily. 

He steered you into the room, heading for Ominis and Garreth again to give you time to get settled before the dancing started. When your eyes fell on Weasley, Sebastian watched as your brows shot halfway up your forehead, and he could hear the laughter in your voice when you asked, “Oh gods, what is he wearing?” 

“Don’t bring it up. Something about ‘tradition’ I think, but he’s well aware that he looks like a decorative rug.” 

You had to hide your smirk behind your free hand as you approached the two men. Garreth’s grin was blinding as he raised his glass to you in silent greeting, and Ominis must have heard you walking up, because he turned fully to face you with his kind eyes crinkled at their corners. 

“I obviously can’t say for certain, but if Sebastian’s inability to form words when you walked in was anything to go by, you must look beautiful.” The blond had a tiny Cauldron Cake pinched between his skinny fingers, and he popped it into his mouth without a second thought as a blush crept up your cheeks. 

“Thank you, Ominis, you do too.”

“I look beautiful?” He mumbled around his mouthful, and the sound of his muffled teasing contrasting with his neat appearance made you chuckle. 

You swatted his shoulder playfully and shook your head, “You know what I mean.” When your gaze shifted to Garreth, he seemed to hold his breath expectantly. “You too, Garreth. Pink looks good on you.”

The red-head rolled his eyes playfully, but he was still grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told that lying gives you wrinkles, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

He lifted his glass to his lips at the same time the enchanted orchestra in the corner ceased playing. Hundreds of heads swiveled towards the front of the room as Professor Black made his way to the podium, looking all too irritated to have to entertain students during the weekend instead of… actually, you had no clue what Professor Black did in his spare time. 

Probably kick Puffskeins and style his mustache. 

“Welcome all, to this year’s Yule Ball. I see the festivities are in full swing already, but I’d like to remind everyone that standard school rules are still meant to be followed even on a night such as this one. That means no floozy behavior, no consumption of beverages not otherwise provided for you, and for the love of Merlin– no smoking of Mallowsweet in school corridors. That has become a rampant issue that I would prefer to not have to deal with on top of everything else.” 

As the Headmaster continued monologuing, you managed to tune out the remainder of his warnings in favor of ogling Sebastian. Your hands were still intertwined, and he had tugged you closer to him so your arms were brushing against one another in his subtle attempts to get closer to you. He really did look striking in his dark green suit; it was the first time you’d been privy to seeing him so dressed up, and you bit your lip hungrily as potent, lustful thoughts filled your mind. It wasn’t until the room was full of thunderous applause that you realized the introductions were finished and your boyfriend was side-eyeing you as you blatantly stared at him. 

“Something on your mind?” He whispered the question directly against your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your toes curl in your heels. 

Your hand in his tightened a fraction, and you cocked a brow slyly as your lips curled into a feline smile. “A few things, yes.” 

“Anything I’d like to know about?” 

“I’m sure you would, but there’s a time and a place. Don’t they say patience is a virtue?”

Sebastian hummed, trailing his thumb sensually along your knuckles as he smirked wickedly against your temple. “I find it to be more of a nuisance, but I suppose it would be a waste not to make the most of you in that dress. Would you care to dance?”

The Slytherin’s heart damn near hammered straight out of his sternum when you turned to stare affectionately up at him, the mixture of your love and desire so palpable in the air that he swore he could cut through it with a Diffindo charm. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

—

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so weightless in your life. 

Sebastian’s hand clasped in yours was like an anchor, keeping you grounded to the present moment as he tugged you along behind him up the winding staircase leading to the Astronomy Wing. He was moving fast– clearly eager to show you the ‘surprise’ he had waiting for you there– but he had the good grace to stay mindful of your dress and your inability to move as quickly as he could. The two of you had been sneakily stealing sips of his Firewhiskey throughout the night, so the faint buzz you had going was enough to make you slow down and consider every movement carefully as you ascended the steps. 

When you reached the top landing, the brunet’s neck craned sideways to cast an exhilarated look your way, his excitement a tangible entity that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. All through the night, Sebastian’s eyes and hands had been stealing telling glances and coy touches as he twirled you across the ballroom. You knew there had been hundreds of eyes on you at one point; the charmed, gold leaves around the lower lining of your gown had fallen away in trails of sunset colored sparkles that were bound to draw attention as you’d danced. But none of it had mattered– not with Sebastian gazing longingly at you like you were the only thing that existed. 

He was doing so now, and you found yourself burying your general dislike of surprises for the sake of the evening. Anything Sebastian had planned for you was something you were sure to love, you were already certain of it.

When the two of you reached the empty wall across from the familiar troll tapestry, Sebastian swiftly pulled you ahead of him and spun you around– more shimmering leaves wisping off of your dress as your back made contact with the cool stone behind it. You barely had time to register the brazen move before your boyfriend’s lips connected with yours, and then his broad hands were sliding up your neck to cup your face and tilt your head back to deepen the kiss impossibly further. He swallowed your startled gasp instantaneously, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones so tenderly that it made your heart fucking ache. 

 Merlin– sometimes your love for Sebastian overwhelmed you. 

“As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

“Of course,” he replied with that renowned Sallow-swagger that made you melt. “But not before you get to appreciate all of my hard work.”

You hummed thoughtfully as you leaned forward to kiss him again, breathing in his intoxicating scent of cedar and something akin to old books. His tongue slipped in your mouth easily, tangling with your own so fluidly that you suddenly found yourself all too eager to discover what he had in store for you. Sebastian let you drink in your fill of him, groaning softly when you shifted your hips to grind lazily against his steadily growing erection, and then he was pulling back with a heated look in his eyes. 

“Riveting as this is, I don’t feel particularly keen on taking you in the middle of the hallway.”

On cue, you felt the wall against your back begin to change. The cool stone morphed into smooth wood, and the massive entryway to the Room of Requirement revealed itself as Sebastian seemingly gazed into your very soul. “No public canoodling? Your surprise must be quite something, then.” 

For the first time since finding him in the Great Hall, Sebastian looked nervous. He stepped back and rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving you a half-grin that you could have honestly mistaken for a grimace. “I certainly hope so… come on.” 

He extended his hand once again and you took it graciously, moving off the door to make room for him to push it open. The brunet ushered you in, letting you enter ahead of him, and you barely made it three steps inside before you were halting completely. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in silent shock as you took in the magical sight before you. 

The Room was full of floating candles like the ones in the Great Hall, only these ones flickered with deep blue flames that seemed to cast the space in what you could only describe as pure moonlight. The ambiance had been changed as well, working in tandem with the romantic lighting so flawlessly that you were certain you had to be staring at a painting. You made a mental note to remember to thank Deek for his evident assistance. Bright red petals had been strewn across the floor, paving a rather telling path towards the slightly ajar bedroom door on the opposite side of the chamber. What was inside, you didn’t know– but the contrasting red glow from within had your mind flooding with unrestrained fantasies that made your stomach flip. 

Your legs carried you deeper into the room as you took in every unique change to your secret space, and all the while, Sebastian watched you virtually glide across the floor. The enchanted leaves running down your dress added a new degree of magic to the whole scene; the trail of gold flakes that evaporated into sparkling dust made you look like some sort of enchantress that had snuck onto the school grounds, and he found himself following you across the petals towards the bedroom in a trance. 

Sebastian had seriously outdone himself. You had no words. 

Pushing the door open revealed more floating candles– the normal colored ones– and an amorous display that made your breath catch in your throat. He’d replaced the usual bed linens with silky, red sheets that reflected the candlelight beautifully. You spotted a bottle of wine perched between two glasses on the nightstand, and situated behind it all was a fresh bouquet of roses that left a distinctly floral scent in the air. 

A large part of you wanted to cry from the affection that flooded your brain, but you willed away the urge in favor of turning around to face Sebastian. 

He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed– a hungry, almost insatiable look spreading across his features. Those lust-dark eyes of his were scanning you up and down like you were a whole meal, and given the set-up in the room, you were willing to wager a guess that his mentality was exactly that. The warm lighting in the bedroom bathed him in a seductive glow, and as handsome as he looked in his suit, you suddenly wanted him out of it. Pronto. 

“You’re speechless,” he observed, sounding almost timid as he spoke the words. 

“That’s a word for it.” 

“Good speechless or bad speechless?” 

You gave him a nonplussed blink before your brows slammed down, “Why in Merlin’s name would it be bad speechless?” 

Your ability to read Sebastian like a damn book allowed you to see the cracks in his confident facade as he dug the toe of his shoe into the stone floor. He shrugged, “I’m not sure. Maybe because I snuck in here and changed everything around. Although Deek did help some, so I guess I’m not solely to blame.” 

There were no thoughts in your head other than the rapacious desire to be close to him, and your heels echoed off the bedroom walls as you strode over to him in the doorway to yank him down to your level. You all but slammed your mouths together, stealing his breath with the intensity of your ministrations, and the action left little room for doubt. Sebastian returned the kiss with equal fervor, winding his arms around you to crush you against his front as you bit and licked at his soft, freckled lips. 

“You ought to stoke that confidence some more, because this is quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.” Your praises did wonders to soothe his frayed nerves, seeing as you felt him relax under your touch as you sensually dragged your hands up to grip his strong shoulders. 

He chuckled proudly, pulling away to stare anticipatorily down at you with a smug look on his face. That was an expression you were all too familiar with. “You should know that where you’re concerned, I’m a split-second confidence kind of guy. The things you do to me and you don’t even know it…” he trailed off in a gravelly voice, and you shivered as you felt his palms begin skirting down your lower back to play with the zipper of your gown. 

“Oh really?” Your voice was airy, and your fingers dug into the smooth material of his blazer as you worked to maintain your composure. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Sebastian tilted his head to the side curiously before leaning down to brush a tiny kiss over the tip of your nose, “I’d much rather show you. What do you say? You want to let me take care of you, darling?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, rendering your tongue a useless paperweight in your mouth as it failed to form words, so you nodded excitedly instead and noted how Sebastian growled in response. Any awkwardness or uncertainty fell away when he claimed your lips again in a wet, needy frenzy, swallowing your surprised mewl as he walked you backwards towards the spacious bed. You felt his fingers return to your zipper and gently tug it down as the backs of your knees made contact with the mattress, and his hand on your hip kept you steady as his arm dropped ever-so-slightly to part the fabric of your dress. The velvety attire slipped down your body and pooled around your ankles instantly– a plume of gold sparkles erupting from it as it hit the floor. 

Sebastian broke the kiss to look down at you, his long, dark lashes fanning out across his cheeks as he took in your nearly bare form from head to toe. You followed the tight bob of his adam’s apple as his chocolate brown eyes roved over your breasts before they returned to your face, and then he was gingerly pushing you down onto the bed. 

As you scooted higher up the sheets, Sebastian’s gaze stayed glued to you while he shed his jacket, tossing it haphazardly to the side so he could begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. You watched him unblinkingly as he undressed– shamelessly licking your lips when his top fell open and revealed the taut plane of his stomach— and the fuzzy trail of hair leading beneath his trousers had your knees clenching together in anticipation. With his button-up discarded, all that remained were the pants, and he elected to take his time undoing his belt with calculated movements as his eyes bored into yours. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admitted, and the metal clink of the buckle falling away punctuated the statement. “Gods– I was ready to leave the second you walked in, you have no fucking idea.” 

You shuddered from the intensity of his words, boldly dragging one of your hands down between your legs to feel the wetness that had begun to saturate your undergarments. The sight of you touching yourself sent Sebastian into overdrive– and he wasted little time in shoving his trousers down and kicking them aside so he was donned in nothing but his briefs. His arousal was straining against the thin cotton– so much so that it had to be bordering on painful– but he made no signs of discomfort as he seductively started to crawl up the bed towards you. 

As soon as Sebastian was within reach, you abandoned your soaked nether region to curl your fingers around his neck and pull him towards you, kissing him desperately. You ran your hands down his freckled chest, then wrapped your arms around his midsection to ghost the tips of your fingers along his spine. The shiver it elicited from him had heat pooling in your gut, and your need for him started to shift into something even more ravenous. 

Sebastian dropped himself down onto his elbows to minimize the space between the two of you as your tongues tangled, and as he settled his lower half against yours, he ground his straining member against your clothed cunt. He groaned unabashedly, the sound low in his throat, and your lips took to wandering along his jaw, down his throat, before settling against the curve of his shoulder to sink your teeth into the soft flesh. 

“Fuck– I can feel how wet you are already. How badly do you want it? Tell me,” he implored you, his eyes fluttering shut when you laved your tongue over the light imprint of your teeth. “Talk to me, darling, please.” 

Merlin, his voice alone was doing things to you that rendered your vocal chords useless. You tried speaking anyway. “P-Please,” you rasped out against his spit-slick skin. “Please Sebastian, I need you– I’ve needed you all night–” 

“All night, huh? What exactly were you thinking about while we were on the dance floor, hm? What filthy thoughts are swimming around in that pretty little head of yours?” 

The way Sebastian was rutting against you– tempting you with every snap of his hips– was driving you absolutely crazy with lust, and your head fell away from his shoulder against the sheets with a low moan as your nails raked down his sides. To your dismay, however, he ceased his movements to sit up and plant his hands on your wiggling hips, pinning you down in place. His toned arms flexed as he applied a fair amount of pressure in a bid to still your writhing against the silky covers, and you bit your lip in blatant frustration, narrowing your eyes dangerously. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I asked you a question. Tell me what you want– what you’ve apparently been craving all night. You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

Leave it to Sebastian to still find a way to make you beg for his cock. The nerve. You scowled up at him, “You’re really going to make me say it?” 

He had the audacity to laugh at your impatience. “I would make you scream it if I wasn’t trying so hard to be nice.” 

You had half a mind to taunt him further and clarify that really– this was him being nice? But then one of his hands fell away from your waist to trail closer to your drenched underwear until he had the pad of his thumb planted directly against your clit. That was the extent of his mercy, though. He made no move to provide you with any friction or stimulation– he simply stared at you expectantly. 

Dammit. 

Your hips twitched, unconsciously seeking the reprieve his fingers could offer you. It mattered little though; his strength kept you pinned firmly in place. “I-I want you to fuck me,” you mumbled, cheeks heating with slight embarrassment. 

“Anyone could fuck you, sweetheart. You need to be more specific,” he fucking purred the statement, making your head spin and your inhibitions fly out the damn window. 

“You,” came your wheezed response. “I want you– I want your cock, Sebastian, all I need is you. Please fuck me, I only want you, please.” 

The sight of you flushed and panting, bathed in warm candlelight as your hands fisted ardently in the sheets, drove all of Sebastian’s blood straight to his cock. It twitched enthusiastically within the confines of his briefs. 

You felt the pressure from his arm let up at the same time he removed his thumb from your aching center. Impatient didn’t even begin to cover how you were feeling, but you were all too pleased when his fingers finally pinched the fabric of your panties to tug the material down your bent legs.

Shaking his head in near disbelief, Sebastian groaned, “You sound like a fucking dream begging for it, darling. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”  

His words soothed you, but you still tensed a little when you felt the tip of his finger slip inside your overwhelmingly wet heat. You sighed and spread your legs further to accommodate Sebastian’s kneeled position, and he took to trailing his free hand over your hip bones, then up your torso to squeeze at your breasts as he willed you to relax for him. Releasing your vice grip on the sheets, you wrapped your hand around Sebastian’s thick wrist while he toyed with your sensitive nipples– effectively losing yourself to the euphoric sensation until he was knuckle-deep in your clenching walls. 

A keening sound resonated from deep in your chest as you rocked back onto Sebastian’s finger, testing the feeling, and you bit your lip hard at the rumbling groan your boyfriend gave in response. He leaned down to pepper kisses along your shoulder, sucking at your collarbone and gently nipping at your neck, and when he thrusted his finger minutely and curled it towards your stomach, you shuddered and dug your nails into his forearm.

“Come on,” you whined, bucking your hips more insistently in response to his painfully slow pace. The brunet nodded, pumping his finger deeper, and he couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from his mouth at how fucking tight you were. 

Sebastian worked you with the single digit for a moment before tentatively adding a second, his blood igniting in his veins at the airy gasp you let slip. Your name fell from his lips like a plea, and when he leaned up slightly to gauge your expression, the half-hooded look you bore was enough to make his stomach drop. “Gods, you’re perfect,” he virtually whispered. 

By the time you were amply prepared for him, your hands had abandoned the sheets and his wrist to clutch tightly at his shoulders, your sounds growing desperate and needy. Sebastian continued to spread and twist his fingers, trying to map out precisely where to aim to reduce you to gasping screams just as he’d promised. You were beyond jittery, though, winding your fingers into his curly brown locs to tug his face towards yours and glare openly at him. “I’m about to jump your bones,” you growled, rolling your hips against Sebastian’s fingers urgently. “Come on, Sebastian, let me– fuck–”

Sebastian grinned wildly at the way your back arched clean off the sheets, the tight gasp you pulled into your lungs imbuing him with a need for you that rivaled his need to breathe. Without missing a beat, he withdrew his fingers and frantically set to peeling his briefs away to free himself from the restrictive material. His girth arched proudly against his stomach, swollen and red and so fucking tantalizing. Your eyes devoured him greedily as he tossed the pre-cum stained attire over his shoulder, and then he was crawling over you once again with an animalistic hunger reflecting in his eyes. 

Hooking your legs around his waist, Sebastian braced his arms on either side of your head, gazing at you longingly as the head of his leaking cock brushed against your slick entrance. It took an insane amount of effort for you not to nudge him forward with your heels– forcing yourself to remain pliant as he pressed into you at an achingly slow pace. Your eyes rolled shut at the feeling of being breached, savaging your lower lip with your teeth as inch after inch of Sebastian’s incredible cock entered you. A contented whine weaseled its way from his throat as he bottomed out, and you cracked your bleary eyes open to find the freckled man staring at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“W-What?” You muttered, trailing your hands up his muscular biceps before interlacing your fingers together around his neck. “Don’t make me beg again, I already said please.” 

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” he said with a smirk, grinding his hips enough to have you trembling and arching. “Like you were trying really hard to hold back. It’s hot as hell.”  

You fought a smile, tugging him down by his neck to capture his lips in yet another dizzying kiss. Sebastian bit and licked at your mouth with reckless abandon as he swallowed the sounds his efforts pulled from you, and he sighed before pulling away to brush a few strands of hair off of your forehead. He thrusted suddenly into you– catching you off guard– and your breath hitched at the same time your head fell back, effectively killing the remainder of Sebastian’s patience. 

Dropping one of his hands to your waist, Sebastian withdrew his throbbing member enough so that when he snapped his hips forward, you were jolted up the bed slightly. “Ah–” your sharp cry reverberated off the bedroom walls, and his hold on you instantly became possessive. 

Grasping onto you like his life depended on it, Sebastian dug his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts as he worked himself into an even tempo. It felt mind-numbingly wonderful to finally be encased in your warm walls after day-dreaming about it all night. His mouth fell open with a shaky groan when he pressed his balls against your raised ass, the friction doing you both a slew of favors, and his vision flashed a brilliant white when he felt you clench around his cock and suck him in even deeper. 

“Oh fuck– fucking hell–” Sebastian grit through clenched teeth, pushing himself up fully so he was no longer hunched over you. You unhooked your ankles from around him so he could maneuver your legs over his bent ones, gripping your thighs with a bruising strength that made your mouth dry up in a heartbeat. He had a perfect view of you laid bare under him this way, and he shamelessly watched as his cock glistened with your slick when he pulled out right before plunging back in. 

Your spine rounded, a guttural moan ripping its way from your chest as Sebastian picked up his pace while simultaneously pulling you down onto his quick thrusts. It was pure rapture having his hands on you– demandingly shifting you around to steal his pleasure from your tight heat as he sought out the deepest parts of you. At one point, he released his hold on one of your legs to plant his broad hand on top of your stomach, relishing in how he could feel his cock each time he slid home. It was addicting– you were addicting— and the thought lit a fire in his very soul. 

“S-Sebastian,” you whined, gathering the silky sheets in your clenched fists as wave after wave of sheer pleasure washed over you. With your legs held in the brunet’s strong grip, he had the freedom to fuck harder into your slick folds, pulling noisy cries of his name and desperate pleas for more from your kiss-swollen lips. Your voice was loud in the humid room, your moans echoing off the walls around the two of you– and when Sebastian bucked harder so the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space– you gasped frantically and writhed beneath him. He had to be hitting a good spot.

“You’re stunning, darling– so fucking good to me–” Sebastian managed to grunt out, pounding his cock into you with temerity that made your looming finish all the more potent. “Fuck, you feel incredible.” 

“Right there, S-Sebastian, fuck me right there, gods–”

The muscles in your stomach were tensing, and you were honestly shaking from the vigor of his thrusts. Sebastian groaned, the sound of your pleading little whimpers driving him mad with undiluted need, and he watched you blearily try to figure out what was going on as he hoisted your legs up and threw them over his shoulders. He moved over you, bending you in half at the same time he rammed his thick cock back into your cunt, and you were hardly given the space to breathe before your boyfriend was fucking you hard— his hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left mewling and grasping helplessly at the sheets. 

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and fucked himself into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands tangled in your hair and tightened around the strands. The sting was delicious and left you with no choice but to allow your lover to pull you closer to him while he filled you up over and over.  He drank in the sounds you made as your back arched off the sheets the best it could under his added weight, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing until you were barely holding on. 

“Like that– fuck, Sebastian, just like that, I’m gonna come–”

Unable to give a more coherent response than a gasping whine, Sebastian dug his nails into your scalp and was rewarded with the sweet sound of you wailing his name as you came violently, riding your hips down into his as much as you could. Your hands flew to his back to rake angry red welts down his sides, and Sebastian let your legs fall from his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you and bury his face into the crook of your neck. He sank his teeth into the sweaty skin as he gave you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming inside— your name tumbling over his lips like a mantra as he fell into bliss.

By the time Sebastian was anything approaching coherent, you were still shaking under him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Fuck,” he murmured into the hollow of your throat, untangling his hands from your hair and smoothing the mussed locs down. 

Sebastian pulled out with a small groan– your hips seemingly lifting to chase the marvelous feeling of being filled– but then he was planting his elbows on either side of you to brace himself as he kissed you breathlessly. You melted under him, curling around him ardently when he finally let himself tip sideways beside you. His chest was heaving with the deep breaths he sucked into his lungs, and you happily nestled your head atop his shoulder as your hands took to tracing invisible shapes and patterns along the taut expanse of his stomach. 

You dozed off sometime after Sebastian had started murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, and when you awoke a few hours later, you were still draped over him, his fingers idly trailing up the shallow dip of your spine. Stretching the best you could without disturbing the peaceful vibe, you craned your neck to look up at Sebastian sleepily, and his eyes crinkled at their corners as he smiled down at you. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Mmph,” you grunted, voice thick with sleep. “Is it morning already? You should have woken me up.” 

He shrugged and glanced at the open bedroom door, noting the lack of sunlight streaming in through the skylight. “Early morning, but not daylight hours quite yet. I figured you needed the rest.”

Humming appreciatively, you closed the minuscule space between the two of you to kiss him gently, and he sighed against your lips as his hands roved up your back once more to play with your hair at the nape of your neck. Everything about the moment was pure, and you found it all too easy to get lost in the sensations dancing over your still-sensitive body.

Sebastian broke away first, gazing at you strangely before he abandoned your hair to reach for the nightstand. “I was going to do this earlier before everything, but I uh… got distracted.” 

You couldn’t hide the flush that crept up your cheeks at the reminder. “Hm, I wonder why,” you teased. “Do what, though?”

He finally found whatever he’d been rifling around for blindly and met your inquisitive stare, swallowing nervously. “I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen after we graduate. I’m sure you have your own ideas, but I just thought– well, I’d obviously like to stay together. I can’t imagine not having you beside me, but that being said, I’ll respect whatever you decide, even if it isn’t what I want to hear.” 

Your stomach flipped over on itself, and your eyes went wider than saucers when Sebastian revealed a small, velvet box gripped tight in his hand. Pushing yourself off of him, he flicked the lid open with trembling fingers, and your gasp was drowned out by the hammering of your heart in your ears. 

Inside was a thin, gold band adorned with a tiny, emerald gemstone that sparkled brilliantly under the flickering candlelight. Your mouth fell open as the implications of the ring bore down on you, and when you looked back at Sebastian, his eyes were scanning your face to gauge your expression. 

“Is that…?” 

“It’s only a posy ring, but I thought that it might make the next few months easier to anticipate. You’re my whole world, darling. I can’t fathom parting ways after everything we’ve been through, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope you felt the same.”

Warm, fat tears welled in your eyes then, blurring your vision before they were streaking down your cheeks without restraint. His anxiety leading up to arriving in the Room of Requirement suddenly made a lot more sense to you, and you realized that he’d planned all of this well in advance. How long had he been waiting to ask you? How long had he held onto the ring in the hopes that you would say yes? 

He still looked nervous, but it was drowned out by the complete adoration that glimmered in his dark eyes. 

“Yes,” you choked out, somewhere in-between sobbing and laughing as you sat up fully. “Yes, Sebastian– of course I feel the same.” 

Sebastian’s smile was blinding, and he plucked the ring from the box and slowly slid it on your extended finger, both of your hands shaking with barely contained excitement. It fit perfectly, and you gave yourself all of two seconds to admire the look and the feeling of it on your hand before you had flipped yourself to the side to straddle him. Your hands cradled his cheeks as you dipped your head lower to kiss him over and over, his soft laughter warming your heart and filling you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t known existed until now.

“I love you, Sebastian. I’ll travel to the ends of the Earth with you, never doubt that. My future is your future– my heart has always belonged to you– of course I’ll stay with you. Whatever is to come, facing it with you is all I want.” 

You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so elated in all your time knowing him. His face lit up vibrantly at your declaration, and in a flash he had wrapped his arms around you to flip you back over so he was situated on top of you, gazing down at you with his hands running down your bare sides. 

He assaulted the entirety of your face with fervent kisses, laughing softly under his breath as you returned his affections with equal force. “I love you so much, darling. You’re my everything, I wouldn’t change a damned thing about the past knowing that it landed me here with you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The remainder of the night was spent with the two of you beneath the silk sheets, the promise of tomorrow suddenly all the more exciting to imagine now that you knew Sebastian would be with you for the rest of your life. Posy ring or not, you’d already known that only death could take you from him– and even then you were certain you would find a way to keep loving him long after you were gone. 

Neither one of you would have it any other way. 

[nerdieforpedro]

My Teddy Bear enjoys Leather

Javier Gutierrez x plus size female reader

This fanfic is for 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 891

Warnings: established relationship, unprotected P in V, riding, oral sex (male receiving), fingers and HANDS (did we expect different from me?), the color red, edging, cockwarming, breath play, Javi G is his own warning (I’m not sorry I had him say any of it!)

Summary: Your boyfriend Javier has deemed it appropriate to finally ask you for something important to him.

Notes: I am a sponge. There was talk of what one might do with a different Pedro character’s nose. I was being a menace in a friend’s DM and thought: “I should take some of these mini drabbles and make something with it.” That friend of course was @lady-bess and she encouraged me. 😆 So here we are with splashes of noses, @morallyinept ‘s Javi’s special room and my own spin on things because Javi’s color is red baby. ❤️ @rhoorl helped me with some translations because I already have trouble with English, I need all help I can get for Spanish because far be it from me to butcher a beautiful language.🥹

Main Masterlist / Javi Gutierrez Masterlist

You’ve never been one to kink shame. You’ve also never been asked to use leather in this manner either. Javier Gutierrez has been the sweetest boyfriend you’ve ever had. He only raised his voice in bed when your hand slipped off his chest while you were riding him and grabbed his neck. You apologized but he of course told you not to worry about it. Javi never wants you to fret or feel bad about anything.

He spends an equal amount of time between your thighs and buried in your cunt. It was after spending another night with him, your tongue slid down his shaft following the vein on the side of his cock down to his balls, waking him by nibbling on the skin lightly with your teeth. So there was another time Javi raised his voice waking up with your ass and swollen pussy from the night before staring at him. He reached out, two fingers parting your folds to see your core twitching while your moans were muffled by your lips nipping at his foreskin. Pausing to raise your head, you looked up at Javi whose chest was heaving along with the soft swell of his belly.

“Buenos días mi amor (Good morning my love). Te estoy dando besos dulces (I’m giving you sweet kisses). I need to focus. Don’t touch me yet Javier.” You said plainly, watching him to ensure he took his hand back. “Put them behind your head.” Javier’s eyes dilated as he interlocked his fingers and placed his hands behind his head, watching as your mouth took in his cock swirling your tongue about the head before starting to swallow more, bobbing your head. Javi resisted the urge to thrust his hips, trying to keep still as possible. He needed to keep from cumming, to watch your thighs drip with slick arousal from taking him so deeply, your fingers grasping his thighs where your nails were digging into his skin. The sensation was too much for poor Javier.

“Quierda (sweetheart)!” Was the only thing he was able to say over and over, watching you drink his spend and it dripping from your mouth.

This was the moment Javier decided to ask you into his special room - private room. He’s never shown this room to anyone, just collecting pieces to use, many of them he couldn’t use by himself.

It was a beautiful dinner, you wore the red dress that Javier enjoyed on you, it was strapless with an asymmetrical split. Exposing much of your thigh and leg when you walked and sat, jiggling as Javier watched you walk across the room to the sealed door that had a keypad on it. He entered his code and opened the door. All manner of leather straps, flogs, bells, lined the wall, two harnesses hung from the ceiling. Your eyes were wide from shock.

“Mi vida (my life). I want more of you did the other night. Command me. Restrict me. Some pain is fine, so long as it is from you. This room has all the tools you will need for this.” It’s not something you’ve ever done, never really entertained the idea of it. But if it’s for Javier, your sweet, never asks your for anything except your time, boyfriend. You could at least try.

Now you’re on a circular bed in this sealed room with Javier Gutierrez, a red leather collar placed around his neck meant for breath play. You’ve told him not to touch himself and not to touch you either, even though you long for them to knead your rolls and folds like he always does, you’ll abstain for him if it brings him greater release. Standing above him naked, you just have him using his perfectly angled nose to tease your clit, but he cannot use his mouth, “Javi, mi bueno niño (my good boy). I’m going to take you in now. You listened so well.” A kiss to his forehead earns you a sigh from him, your palms run along his arms up to his shoulders, centering yourself over his dripping cock. Using him to soothe the ache inside you, your hips became flush with his. “Let’s sit together in your special room. Touch me but don’t move me or your hips.”

Javier’s hands kneaded your back and hips as his mouth, being careful not to move you as instructed. He had a request, he wanted you to do it for him, to him. The breath play worried you, is there a possibility you could hold it too long?

“Cariño (dear). Please, just one time.” Javier pleads with you. Explaining that you’d never done that before and you didn’t want to hurt him, he shook his head. “Mi amor, you could never hurt me. Just pull on my collar enough to make the bell jingle at the end while you sit a top of me, taking me so deeply.” As you warm his cock, you grip the red leather strap connected to the collar, wrapping it once around your hand you pull, cutting his air a bit as his cock twitches wildly inside of you. “Más por favor mi amor (More please my love). You hold my life in your hands. Milk me, have my air, use my cock to come.” Rolling your hips slowly, begins a new chapter with your leather teddy bear Javi.

The fic by @morallyinept is called Door Number Three that helped inspire this. One of her giflets. ❤️

Some peeps who may want to see Javi in red and working that nose 👃: @secretelephanttattoo @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @avastrasposts @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair @alltheglitterandtheroar @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @yorksgirl @goodwithcheese @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @trulybetty @fhatbhabie @readingiskeepingmegoing @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @soft-girl-musings @heareball @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

[lemonberry-soda]

stuck this on a comment of a random Nerdy Prudes edit but I figured I'd throw it here lol

some things I've noticed by becoming so mentally unwell about this show!

Richie's hair probably isn't supposed to just be greasy/messy, but more that he tried to fashion his hair to look like an anime character! One side stuck up and weird bangs are very harem high school anime self-insert MC-core

in "High school is killing me", Peter says, "Grace, just be cool," and she replies, "never!" And yet she's the first one to ask everyone to keep the beans cool, and the first one to break. Very telling

this might be a stretch, but the 5 nerds are color-coded with the 5 Lords! Just dulled somewhat, and if you count Ruth as red/pink (for her headgear) and Peter as green (for his bowtie and suspenders). This makes sense to me, as the rulers definitely feed off of want, and of course the nerdy prudes will be wanting the most! (Also this makes Pete changing to brown mean a lot, since it shows how he feels fulfilled by slowly becoming Steph's friend/partner)

the mayor calling Steph his "October surprise" probably means that she was an unplanned baby. That makes her being forced to go to abstinence camp kinda hypocritical lol

Ruth keeps on desperately trying to fuck people and Richie keeps trying to be a wingman for her, but they aren't trying to fuck each other at all and are very much just super besties.

at multiple points, it implied that the characters slightly know they're in a musical. From Richie saying "oh no, she's snapping again," to the Hatchettown "singing gives him a greater window to kill, but we're singing still," and, as it was pointed out to me, "suddenly the show is real upsetting." Think of the implications!!!

Max's ghost costume is especially good, but I just love how there are veins on his jacket sleeves! It shows that his outfit isn't separate from himself anymore, his entire form is one single ghostly thing.

I will list more as time goes on. I'm very normal.

[tlbodine]

Overthinking: Egg Monsters from Mars

Egg Monsters From Mars is Goosebumps #42, released in the spring of '96. I remember this one's cover but had never read it. I think I had a vague sense that it would be dumb, as a kid, which is a real shame because I actually thought this was refreshingly good in a run of so-so mid-era Goosebumps books. Let's see what it's about and what's special about it...

First, the Plot: Dana Johnson is a scientifically-minded kid with a couple scientist parents and a bratty little sister who tends to get whatever she wants. Since her birthday is close to Easter this year, she asked for an egg hunt for her party. All of her friends start hunting eggs in the yard, but the party swiftly descends into chaos when it's discovered that her mom didn't bother hard-boiling them. The ensuing egg fight makes a huge mess and sours their parents to the entire topic of eggs, which is a real shame because Dana found a very unusual egg down by the creek.

It's big. It's covered in veins. And it's pulsating.

Since his parents won't listen to him when he tries to explain, he puts it in his sock drawer, where it hatches into a...big quivering blob that looks kind of like scrambled eggs with beady eyes. He tries to show it to his best friend, who's less impressed by it than she should be, and encourages him to go take it to a laboratory in town. He does, and there encounters Dr. Gray.

At first, Dr. Gray seems very friendly. He explains that he's familiar with these creatures, that he's been studying them awhile and believes they are from Mars and came to earth via a meteor shower recently. He has them in a special part of his lab that's kept nice and cold so they don't overheat and melt.

The problem is that now that Dana has come into contact with them, Dr. Gray won't let him leave. So he keeps him locked in the lab with them. He spends a long, shivery night as a prisoner. His dad comes looking for him but cannot see him through the double-sided mirror Dr. Gray has set up. And the doctor is infuriated when Dana learns to communicate with the monsters and they merge together into a blanket to warm him in the night.

Dr. Gray insinuates that he needs to kill Dana to keep him quiet. Dana manages to escape with the help of the egg monsters. He explains what happened to his parents, who are deeply concerned but skeptical. When they go back to the lab, the egg monsters and the doctor are gone without a trace.

Dana gets examined by the family doctor and seems to be just fine. Except he has a new habit.....laying eggs.

Overthinking It:

There are few things Stine loves more than an evil scientist, likely owing to the popularity of that trope in his childhood (between Atomic Age uneasiness and Hays Code restrictions on the supernatural, scientists were the villains of many '40s and '50s horror movies). Some of his best books hinge on the stranger-danger of an adult with authority who means a child harm, and that's on display here.

Dr. Gray is straight up chilling (no pun intended). His cold, calculated approach to science and his complete heel-face-turn when it comes to excitedly sharing his find with Dana but his willingness to sacrifice the kid to the altar of science is legitimately frightening. Here is a book where the real monster is institutional power, and the alien creatures are misunderstood allies. Guillermo Del Toro would love this shit.

Something else I enjoyed about Egg Monsters is its willingness to deviate from some of Stine's usual stock character types. It's a refreshing change of pace to have Dana be a serious, studious, thoughtful kid as opposed to our usual practical joker type. His friend Anne brings some of that energy to the table, which is fine in the few scenes she's in. But having Dana be more solemn really helps sell the gravity of this situation.

Also, I can only imagine how terrifying this whole thing must have been for his parents!

I will say that the egg-fight setup and payoff does go on for quite a while. Like it takes up soooo much narrative space and that feels a little filler-y. But by the same token, the ensuing chaos of the egg goo everywhere is its own kind of horror. A birthday party descending into a food fight, where your friends won't listen even when you're begging them to stop, where the damage is real and lasting, where the crowd acts of its own accord and behaves as a mindless force of destruction....that is already pretty frightening, actually. It's played with a deft hand here because eggs are ultimately mostly harmless but it's easy to imagine these kids frenzying in some other, more horrifying way.

Honestly, this one is floating up to the top for me. I'll put this one up next to Cuckoo Clock of Doom for some of Stine's best experimental writing.

If You Liked This, THESE Will Really Give You Goosebumps:

I'm not joking about Del Toro here. If you like stories where the "monster" is misunderstood and the real villain is a regular guy with a cold-hearted commitment to his job, you're gonna love The Shape of Water.

If you wanted the egg monsters themselves to be a bigger threat, may I direct you instead to Alien?

Also a shout-out to Critters, which also come to earth in the form of supremely weird eggs

[ryleigh130]

Hi!! OMG I LOVE your writing sm- it's so cute and your such a good writer 😭❤️

But..if you want to- I have a request

Do you think you could write some angst like Platonic!141 x reader who goes MIA for weeks-( they suddenly go radio silent on the comms and when they check their last known area they find the mic and dog tags, maybe?) And then one of the 141 members just taking a stroll around base runs into the passed out bloody and bruised body of c/n. They just crawled their way back to them lol?(GOD THIS IS SO CRINGY BUT I NEED SOME HURT/COMFORT PLATONIC FICS)

Lost but Found - - ryleigh130

Characters- cap. price, gaz, soap, and ghost Word Count: 1.7k Relationships- platonic!141 & gn! reader Warnings- profanity, gore, death, 3rd person pov, usage of c/n [code name/call sign], usage of y/n [your name], usage of l/n [last name] Note- Thank you so much for the request! I was a little unsure on how/where to take this but I hope you like it nonetheless! <33

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

The air was thick with tension as the Task Force 141 prepared for their next mission. [c/n] stood among their comrades, checking their gear one last time before the briefing began. Captain Price stood at the front of the room, his gravelly voice commanding the attention of everyone present.

"We've received intel on a high-value target in the heart of enemy territory. [c/n], you'll be leading the extraction team. It's a routine mission, but stay sharp. We can't afford any mistakes."

[c/n] nodded, their heart pounding with anticipation. They were confident in their abilities, but there was always a lingering sense of uncertainty before heading into the unknown.

The mission started smoothly enough. [c/n]'s team moved through the shadows, swiftly eliminating any threats in their path with relative ease. But as they approached the target's location, things took a turn for the worse.

[c/n] led their team to the south side of the territory as instructed, but before they could settle and prepare for extraction, a squadron of what had to be 50 enemy soldiers rained down on [c/n] and their team.

“It’s an ambush! Everyone take cover! Pick them off the best you can, do NOT let the target get away!” [c/n]’s voice rings through the heavy firing of guns causing the team to fall back and go on defense.

The sudden ambush was a shock to the system, catching [c/n] and the rest of the team off guard. The air crackled with tension as enemy forces swarmed in from all directions, their weapons trained on the small team. [c/n]'s heart raced as adrenaline surged through their veins, their training kicking in as they fought for survival.

Bullets flew, filling the air with deadly intent. [c/n] moved with practiced precision, taking down enemy after enemy, but it was a losing battle. The enemy seemed to have the advantage, their numbers overwhelming the task force's defenses.

Amidst the chaos, [c/n] found themselves separated from the rest of the team. Panic threatened to consume them as they realized the gravity of the situation. Surrounded on all sides, with no backup in sight, [c/n] fought with everything they had, desperation lending strength to their limbs.

But it wasn't enough.

A hail of gunfire echoed in the narrow confines of the battlefield, each shot a reminder of the precariousness of their situation. [c/n]'s movements became more frantic as they dodged incoming fire, their senses heightened in the face of imminent danger.

The last thing [c/n] remembered was the deafening sound of gunfire ringing in their ears, the smell of gunpowder hanging heavy in the air. Then, darkness descended like a suffocating blanket, enveloping them in its embrace.

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

"[c/n], come in! [c/n], do you copy?" Soap's voice crackled over the comms, the urgency and worry palpable in every word. After not hearing [c/n]’s affirmation of arriving at the extraction point, the members of the 141 quickly grew worried. Their worry only amplified when their check ups elicit no response from the young soldier. The silence was like an empty void echoing back at them; a mocking reminder of their dire situation.

Panic clawed at Ghost's chest the longer the silence continued, a suffocating grip that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to call out once again, desperation lacing his words. "[c/n], this is Ghost. Respond, damn it!"

But still, there was nothing. The silence stretched on, an agonizing eternity filled with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. The 141's mind raced, a thousand possibilities flickering through their heads like shards of shattered glass.

Had [c/n] been captured? Injured? Lost in the chaos of battle? Gaz clenched his fists, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

"Come on, [y/n]," Gaz muttered under his breath, a fervent prayer to the gods of war. "Don't you dare leave us hanging like this."

But the silence remained, unyielding and absolute. And in that moment, they knew with a sinking heart that their comrade was in grave danger.

“We need to go and find them!” Soap voiced, his tone shaky with clear worry.

“We can’t and you know it Soap, I’m sorry but the mission always comes first. We can’t ignore that, even for the kid.” Price’s strong voice sounds as he authoritatively commands his men. Although they didn’t like it, they all knew he was right and they couldn’t go and find [c/n], at least not until after they successfully completed the mission.

With a new purpose, the team fought with more determination and vigor than ever before. They successfully extracted the target with relative ease, but they still haven't heard from [c/n] or their team which worried them beyond belief. Once they safely situated the target, the 141, consisting of Captain Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, raced towards [c/n]’s last known location.

What they saw shocked them.

Blood covered every inch of the location the team was sent to. Both enemy and allies alike laid dead, bodies still warm, bleeding out. The team split up, quickly scouring the bodies laid before them. They spent what felt like hours looking through the gruesome scene to find their lost teammate but no luck, until suddenly Gaz speaks up,

“Uh guys?” The three whip their heads around to face the young sergeant whose voice shakes with despair. In his hands he holds the dirty, tarnished tags of [y/n] “[c/n]” [l/n].

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

Weeks passed with no sign of [c/n]. The 141 was forced to leave the site, even though they longed to search for any other signs of you. The base was consumed by a somber atmosphere as worry gnawed at the hearts of their comrades. Captain Price refused to give up hope, organizing search missions and interrogating captured enemies for any leads.

Soap paced back and forth in the barracks, his mind filled with thoughts of his missing friend. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. If only he had been there, maybe things would have turned out differently.

A step of heavy footsteps approach Soap and a large, gentle hand finds its place on his shoulder. Turning around, Soap meets Ghost’s tired gaze,

“You’re exhausted Johnny, get some rest. You’re doing them no good by running yourself dry like this.” Soap stubbornly shakes his head,

“"Ye dinnae understand, if ah wis jist there, ah could've…" Ghost holds up his hand effectively shutting Soap up.

“Stop. This is not your fault, there is no way we could’ve predicted this would happen. I miss the kid too, it’s not the same without them but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. We will find them, but we have to keep it together too. For [c/n]” Ghost’s eyes crinkle slightly from under the mask, indicating a smile. Soap smiles back and nods determinedly,

“For [c/n]” The two head off towards the meeting room where the entirety of the base is currently situated in order to find [c/n].

A sense of urgency filled the room as the Task Force mobilized, determined to bring their missing comrade home. Every moment felt like an eternity as they scoured the countryside, following any lead that might lead them to [c/n]

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of [c/n]. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate them all.

But then, just when they were on the brink of losing hope, a miracle occurred.

It was a crisp morning when Gaz decided to take a walk to clear his head. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

His instincts kicked into overdrive as he scanned his surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. And then he saw it—a figure stumbling through the trees, bloodied and bruised, but unmistakably alive.

"[y/n]!" Gaz shouted, racing towards them with tears of relief streaming down his face. "What the fuck!"

[c/n] collapsed into Gaz' arms, their body trembling with exhaustion and pain. Gaz held them close, whispering words of comfort as tears of joy mingled with the blood and dirt on their cheeks.

"We thought we lost you," Gaz choked out, his voice thick with emotion. He quickly helped [c/n] get onto theri unsteady feet and led them back towards base.

[c/n] looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Please, you guys have no confidence in me."

As the two of you approached the base soldiers filed out of the barracks to see both [c/n] and Gaz stumble into the small clearing. A sudden shout draws their attention and before they know it, Soap is practically tackling the pair to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

“Laddie, ye're back! Whit the hell happened tae ye?” Before [c/n] could answer, two more pairs of arms joined the hug. [c/n] looks up to see the large figures of Price and Ghost embracing them in shock.

“Funny story actually. I was the last one in the team standing and there were still too many enemies for me to overpower so, I crawled into some kind of animal den. I didn’t come out until I was sure everyone was gone. My radio broke so I couldn't contact you guys, m’sorry.” [c/n] finished their sentence sadly, bowing their head and staring at their feet. A gentle hand lifted [c/n]’s face to meet their eyes. Price stared back with a soft look on his face,

“Kiddo, we’re just glad you’re ok. We’re so, so, so sorry we couldn’t find you.” [c/n] smiled softly, their eyes shown with exhaustion but pride as they embrace the men they consider family,

“It’s okay. I know you guys tried.” The others nodded vigorously causing [c/n] to let out a soft chuckle.

In that moment, as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm embrace over them, they knew that everything would be okay. For they had faced the darkness together and emerged stronger than ever before.

[sanderssidesplaylist]

Stranger by Evidentlyfresh

REALLY Remus coded to me, literally every single lyric is so him and encompasses my idea of his character and motivations really well.

(Strongly encouraged to listen to the song before voting! Lyrics under the cut.)

[Verse 1] Walking through a shady forest Wading through flowers Made just for me Where has the time gone? Where is everyone? Are they searching Or looking for me?

[Verse 2] I've fallen down too deep Saw something I shouldn’t have seen I pray to God I pray to you I pray to the Dreamer who made me

I can't find any escape Can't find any relief I’m met with only Knives and gnashing of my Broken teeth

I'm tangled in a web of lies That I once played a part in I couldn't bear the fact That Something has always been Watching him

I found it out again I cannot ever get out I'm stuck as a shadow Of the one I once used to be

[Chorus] My world is timeless Like a broken clock It happens again and again I die in the end After screaming my head off For no mercy that's given

My veins are drowning I can only watch The blood pouring From the moon And all of its stars Where is the gateway To heaven when I need it?

[Verse 3] I see all of your insecurities I see the darkest thoughts of your mind I see the world Underneath the light Why do you cover it In a shade of innocence?

[Verse 4] You can't escape from me I'm always there Always watching Your every move Like a game of chess Where no one really ever wins

I saw the one you hated I saw the one you killed I saw the one you hid and Threw into the pits of hell

I drag you back again To the start of every game you play There's no universe or reality That can shield you from the pain of Discovering the truth If you really want to Or you could slip back Into the lie you told yourself As a ruse

[Chorus] My voice is crying out To the one To the heavenly sun Who sits On a red velvet throne Waiting for a chance to Split my head open

My limbs are breaking How dare you say nothing? I’m reminding you of The shame And all of the pain Something is haunting you I will do the same

You cannot hide the truth For much longer Do you think you’re above The ones that you toss aside For entertaining your Sickly holy mind

You cannot dream me away I'll stay with you Until you start it all again Rewind it and then Continue the cycle Of someone haunting you

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

Books for Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week

🦇 It's Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week (February 18th-24th)! In an effort to #ReadQueerAllYear, here are a few books featuring aromantic characters you can add to your TBR!

💚 Little Thieves by Margaret Owen 🤍 The Bone Season - Samanta Shannon 🤍 Hullmetal Girls - Emily Skrutskie 🖤 Tarnished Are the Stars - Rosiee Thor 💚 Kaikeyi - Vaishnavi Patel 🤍 The Reckless Kind - Carly Heath 🤍 First Test - Tamora Pierce 🖤 No More Heroes - Loren Rhoads 💚 This Golden Flame - Emily Victoria 🤍 Baker Thief - Claudie Arseneault 🤍 Immoral Code - Lillian Clark 🖤 Loveless - Alice Oseman 💚 The Last 8 - Laura Pohl 🤍 The Midnight Bargain - C.L. Polk 🤍 The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee 🖤 Common Bonds - Claudie Arseneault, C.T. Callahan, B.R. Sanders, and RoAnna Sylver 💚 The Black Veins - Ashia Monet 🤍 Liar’s Guide to the Night Sky by Brianna Shrum 🤍 The Crow Rider - Kalyn Josephson 🖤 Summer Bird Blue - Akemi Dawn Bowman 💚 Hazel's Theory of Evolution - Lisa Jenn Bigelow 🤍 Summer of Salt - Katrina Leno 🤍 The Poppy War - R.F. Kuang 🖤 Not Even Bones - Rebecca Schaeffer 💚 Elatsoe - Darcie Little Badger 🤍 Rick - Alex Gino 🤍 Switchback by Danika Stone 🖤 Sal & Gabi Fix the Universe - Carlos Alberto Hernandez 💚 Gender Queer - Maia Kobabe 🤍 Their Troublesome Crush - Xan West 🤍 Every Bird a Prince - Jenn Reese 🖤 The Butterfly Assassin - Finn Longman 💚 Red Skies Falling - Alex London 🤍 When Villains Rise - Rebecca Schaeffer 🤍 The Bruising of Qilwa - Naseem Jamnia 🖤 Funeral Girl - Emma K. Ohland 💚 The Kindred - Alechia Dow 🤍 The Summer of Bitter and Sweet - Jen Ferguson 🤍 Dear Wendy - Ann Zhao 🖤 Tell Me How It Ends by Quinton Li 💚 This Dark Descent - Kalyn Josephson 🤍 Awakenings by Claudie Arseneault 🤍 Compound Fracture by Andrew Joseph White 🖤 Other People’s Butterflies by Cora Ruskin

Per @aroaessidhe: Little Thieves, The Kindred, The Summer of Bitter and Sweet, Gender Queer, (and I think The Bone Season?) have ace or demisexual MCs, not aromantic. also, a lot of the rest are side characters, not main characters.

Thank you, genuinely, so much, for this correction. I'm very sorry for the mistake. I create these guides between work assignments (I work from home, around the clock, trying to make ends meet in this mess of an economy) and didn't do my due diligence in double-checking every book. I think this started as an aro/ace list I was compiling and I tried to separate it into two guides. I apologize for the discrepancy vehemently and will strive to do better in the future. Thank you for catching my error.