#everyone used to call it ugly and harsh but personally i think THEY are the ugly and harsh ones

[toshidou]

decided to start learning german again (for... no particular reason...), and to say that the last time i was really practising was mid high school, i'm genuinely shocked at how much information i've retained

[makoodles]

ミ tìtunu

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓word count: 9k words (oops)

🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching

yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.

After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.

His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it. 

It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.

“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”

They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.

The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”

“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.

But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.

“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”

Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”

Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.

“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.

“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”

Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.

“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”

“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts. 

The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober. 

“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”

Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”

Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.

Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.

“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.

Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. 

“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”

Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.

“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”

Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out. 

“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”

Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.

Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.

You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.

Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”

“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”

Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.

Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”

Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”

It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.

“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.

Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?

“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”

Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.

That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly. 

That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.

When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation. 

I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.

Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People. 

Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places. 

Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.

He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest. 

When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.

Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.

“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”

Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.

“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”

Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”

His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt. 

Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”

“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”

“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand. 

Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.

“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”

“And Mo’at?”

“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”

Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.

“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”

“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”

That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.

“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”

That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.

“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”

Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.

She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”

Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?

“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.

Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.

“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.

It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.

When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.

The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before. 

This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful. 

The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can. 

Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.

He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker. 

Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.

One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?

You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves. 

The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.

Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.

His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.

He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.

He just bares his teeth in warning.

“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”

Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.

“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”

That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.

Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.

“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.

You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?

He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”

They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.

You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”

“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.

 When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.

Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.

 Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.

Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.

That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”

Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes? 

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.

You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”

Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”

Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.

He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.

His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.

“Would you like to come fishing?”

You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?

“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”

Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.

“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”

It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.

You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?

“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”

Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off. 

“Come then.”

Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional. 

His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.

“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.

Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish. 

He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display. 

You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.

Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.

In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank. 

You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.

He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.

You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.

“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”

The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.

“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.

You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.

“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”

His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway. 

He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.

Time for the next step.

“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”

Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.

Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”

Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”

“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you. 

He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation. 

This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.

Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.

You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.

And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.

When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him. 

He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.

It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship. 

He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.

But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones. 

His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features. 

The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck. 

He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.

Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him. 

His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.

Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.

His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.

He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft. 

He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.

As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.

You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.

You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him. 

You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.

“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.

You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.

For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.

Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”

It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it. 

When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.

He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.

“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”

“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking? 

“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”

You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.

He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal. 

“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.

Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.

“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”

Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?

 “Of course.”

“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.

You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.

When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.

You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.

The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance. 

“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back. 

You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.

As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.

He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.  

Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.

When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.

It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.

“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you. 

Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”

The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.

“I do not, usually. This is different.”

“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.

Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.

“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”

You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking. 

“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.

Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.

You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.

Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away. 

“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him. 

Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.

Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before. 

You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?

Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.

His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.

Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.

He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.

His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit. 

A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.

“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”

He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.

“Tsu’tey?”

He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth. 

Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.

He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience. 

You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.

“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.

“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”

“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front. 

He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”

You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible. 

Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself. 

He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.

 It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.

[throneofsapphics]

Hi I was wondering if I could request either a feysand or rowaelin x reader? About how the reader is insecure and a really nice person and is like friends with everyone. And theres this one toxic friend of hers that like makes her believe that Rowaelin or feysand don't care about her because they don't spend eough time with her. Because feysand or rowaelin are really busy with their duties they don't have time for the reader and are really stresses about something so when the reader asks if they could take a bit of time off to spend time with the reader they snap at her? And you could maybe continue of from their if that okay? Could it have like a fluffy ending?

Sorry if thats too long and I really love your writing by the way !

how long will I bleed

Feysand x Reader 

Summary: Tired of being ignored, reader finally reaches her limit. 

Warnings: anxiety 

A/N: ahh thank you! and please don't be sorry! I haven’t written feysand in a while so I apologize if it's a bit off, thank you for the request :)

“How often do you actually see them?” 

“Every day,” you frowned, not sure where she was going with this. 

“I know, I know. You sleep in their bed.” Their bed? As far as you were concerned, it belonged to all three of you. “How often do they spend time with you, besides what they’re obligated to?” 

Obligated. That didn’t sit right with you, and whether she meant it or not - your friend was striking a deep insecurity, tucked away in your subconscious. 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” she patted a hand on your shoulder, you fought the urge to flinch. Absolutely she meant it that way. “Just something to think about.” Right now, it’s the very last thing you want to think about now. Thankfully, she prattled on about something else. 

-

For a while, you only watched. Observed. After some time passed, you subtly tried to nudge towards spending more time together. But, they were always busy, always tired, always had an obligation. 

Obligations that ranged from formal events in hewn city, to gatherings with some of their friends either here or from other courts. Gatherings you didn’t attend, mainly because you couldn’t tell if you were invited. There was never an explicit, come with us, or we want you there. It started to feel like they didn’t care. 

Actually see them. Obligated. Their bed. The words from your friend echoed like an ugly melody. Each week, she’d bring it up again. Each time, you brushed it off or shut it down. Reducing the time you spent with her would be the smart thing to do, but you couldn’t find it in you to cut her off like that. Even with the subtle digs and harsh comments, she’d been with you since before your relationship with the High Lord and Lady, and ending your friendship felt like breaking away from the past too much. 

It took you a few months to accept that if you wanted it to change, you needed to tell them.

“Do you think we could spend some time together?” you asked over breakfast, pointedly keeping your eyes on your plate. 

“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?” Rhys sounded vaguely amused. Briefly flicking your eyes to him, the angle of his head told you he was already glancing at the clock. 

“Maybe … maybe we could take a day off together?” You couldn’t remember the last time you spent an entire day together, just the three of you. 

Feyre’s mouth pressed into a tight line, “I don’t think we’ll be able to.” 

“I can work around your schedule,” it would be easy enough for you to get time off from work. 

“We don’t have time to spare,” she snapped. Spare. Feyre didn’t mean it, but it felt like she was calling you a spare. Their second choice, always coming behind compared to the two of them. A small tear welled in the corner of your eye. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, a tad more gently. Rhys glanced at the clock again, then back to Feyre, eyes glazing. 

Lost enough in your own spiral, you didn’t care that they were having a silent conversation in front of you. After a few minutes, they finally deigned to speak aloud. 

“We have to leave for Court business. We’ll be back in a week.” 

“Oh.” How long have they known about this trip? You didn’t want to ask. “Alright,” you finally said, throat bobbing. “When do you go?” 

“In the next few minutes,” Rhys looked distracted. 

Fine, that was fine. At least they told you before they left. 

“I’ll miss you,” you tried. It was like your words floated right over them, only getting a gentle smile from Feyre, your words echoed with little sincerity. Rhys offered you a half-smile, and a gentle caress against your mind. They each kissed you before they left, winnowing on the spot to … they hadn’t even told you where they were going. Maybe your friend was right. If they cared, they would’ve made time for you. 

Nice, you were always nice. That’s how everyone described you - kind, nice, gentle, a variety of synonyms. At this point, nice started to feel another word for pushover. You threw your heart out, only from them to stomp over it, not recognizing the trail of blood in their wake. The worst is, they weren’t doing it on purpose. Crushing you was an unintentional, careless, and passive habit. It was their default. 

This time, they’d pushed you right to the edge, to a place they’d actually have to try to drag you back from. 

A week was more than enough time to move out and crash with your cousin. She didn’t ask too many prying questions, only offered up her home and spare room. 

-

Rhys was excited to see you. He did feel a bit guilty at how they shot down your idea, how they had to leave you with such little notice. Time, that’s all you’d asked for, and they could manage that. If not this month, then the next. Stress had gotten the best of both of them recently, what felt like a thousand different negotiations to go through, a plethora of contracts and trade negotiations to review, left little time to spend with you, beyond the brief moment over breakfast occasionally, or before bed. Until you’d mentioned it, until he had some spare moments to reflect, Rhys didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten. 

He knew something was wrong as soon as they entered the Riverhouse. Your scent was … stale, and faint. Like you hadn’t been here in a week. Maybe you’d gone to stay with your cousin or a friend, a big house can be lonely by yourself. That’s what he probably would’ve done. Rhys tried to extend a mental bridge, to reach your mind, but was greeted with a wall of stone. A wall he’d taught you, designed to keep him out. 

“Can you reach her?” He asked Feyre. 

A few seconds pause. She shook her head. 

Walking through the house, he carefully looked for any signs of distress. Could someone have broken in here and taken you? His mind went to the worst case scenario, heart beginning to race. 

A note, pinned under the salt shaker on their breakfast table. 

I’m tired of being pushed aside.

Sorry to leave like this, but it’s for the best. 

Two lines, not even your name signed at the bottom. A small spot smudged the last word, like a tear had dropped onto it. Hurt, anger, betrayal, fear, and regret flooded him at once. 

-

It was the worst and best week of your life. Worst, because you missed them more than you wanted to, and they kept showing up in your dreams - uninvited. Best, because you finally felt free. With the pressure of a falling relationship gone, you could breathe again. 

Anticipation filled you as the week came to the end. Would they try to find you? Would they care enough to? The question you really needed to ask yourself, is if you’d take them back. After their return, you’d learn just how much you meant to them. You’d learn if you truly were the spare. 

Eight days after you left, you dragged yourself out of bed for an early shift, regretting the extra glass of wine you indulged in last night. 

Slipping through the alley, around the back door, you didn’t notice him at first. Fumbling with your keys, you finally managed to slide it into the lock when you heard your name. The voice that had haunted your dreams for the last week.  

A squeak, and keys clattered down on the cobblestone, the sound echoing. Bracing your hand on the door, you took deep breaths to slow your heart, before turning to face him. 

Rhys stood there, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, blue-purple half moons under his eyes, messy hair like he’d been running his hands through it. He raised one hand, a small piece of paper balanced between two fingers. Your note. It was quite brief, but you’d been angry at the time and couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with flowery words. 

“For the best,” he quoted. “Do you really believe that?” 

Oh, that put you right on the defensive. “I said it, didn’t I?” 

The paper vanished, and he tucked his hands into his pockets. “I don’t want it to end like this.” 

It. One tiny word to sum up three years. “But you want it to end?” your voice came out small. 

“No,” he said harshly, closing the space between the two of you. “I don’t.” You didn’t reply. You didn’t know what to say. “When do you get off?” He finally asked. Gentle claws poked at your mind, but you slammed your shields back up. 

“Two,” then your coworker would come take over. 

“We’ll be here,” he reached out, running his thumb over your cheek. It took all of your self control not to lean into the touch. Taking a step back, he winnowed. 

That entire morning and afternoon, you were … off, to say the least. But, work helped relieve some of your anxiety, falling into the monotonous tasks you’d done for years. 

We’ll be here. What did he expect to happen? What did you want to happen? 

By the time two came around, your coworker arrived a few minutes early, you were a ball of anxiety, your entire body tense, heart beating fast, mind swirling. 

“There’s two someones waiting out there for you,” she nudged your shoulder, tilting her chin towards the alley. Giving her a tight smile, you gathered up the rest of your things, to take a few breaths. In and out. You could do this. 

Feyre’s eyes lit up as you swung the door open, excitement tinged with a bit of melancholy. You chose to focus on the excitement. 

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and even with the lingering hint of resentment you felt more loved than you had in months. Part of you recognized that might be a red flag, that even a few hours of attention could have that effect on you, but it was easily brushed aside. 

You were nestled between the two of them, on a bench overlooking the Sidra. Rhys’s hand ran lazy strokes up and down your thigh, Feyre’s arm curled over your shoulders as you leaned into her. Gentle currents rolled back and forth, bouncing off of the stone walls caging in the river, music floating through the streets. Loud enough to hear clearly, but not so loud that it could drown out any conversation. 

“Come home with us,” she said softly. 

A moment of hesitation, but you knew you couldn’t resist. 

“I will.”

[ssinboo]

Couture Kisses

summary: You've been in love with your best friend, Kim Seungmin since forever!

or

in reply to this lovely ask!

pairing: Fashion student!Kim Seungmin x Fashion student!F!Reader

word count: 4k (25~ minute read)

warnings: weight insecurities and mentions of body image issues that aren't resolved, author has very limited knowledge of fashion, making out, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex

a/n: This ask has been marinating in my inbox since june ... OTL I apologise it takes me absolutely forever to write TT I couldn't bring myself to write him as exactly asked, so this is very vanilla!

An entire collection by the end of winter. 

That’s your final project for fashion school.

Needless to say, you were panicking, hard. 

Not that you didn’t have plenty of sketches to pick and choose from, but it being your final assignment it had to be special. Twelve pieces, all able to stand on their own and at least one that you would model on your own and steal the show. 

Even though you tried to shimmy your way from the spotlight and just stand backstage, your professor was very insistent on you modelling at least one of your pieces. 

You absolutely dreaded the stage and the attention. 

Shy by nature, is how you were described by those close to you. And growing up larger than everyone around you took a toll on your self-esteem. 

Your sister was more than up for the modelling, she loved you and of course, loved all your work. Always your number 2 supporter.

Who was number 1? Oh, well, none other than Mr. Kim Seungmin. 

Unfairly handsome, Seungmin stood at a gorgeous 178cm with jet black hair and flowy bangs dyed a platinum blond. He had the most gorgeous almond eyes, which would adorably cross anytime he was a bit too tired. His nose was button shaped and a deep bridge that only accentuated his gorgeous eyes and the faintest little bump along its length. And his lips, gosh, his lips, you could go on and on about his perfectly shaped cupid’s bow or his exquisitely plump lower lip. (which only made his lip ring phase harder on your mental sanity). 

Not that you had a crush on your best friend or anything, of course not!

On other news, Seungmin was a lot less worried about this final assignment, given that you actually agree to his maniacal request: model for his collection. All because you had asked him to model yours.

There were models available, of course, but you could also bring your own and being able to take multiple measures, and do as many fittings as you wished helped ease your anxiety. 

“Come on, don’t be such a meanie!” You whine as he once again insists on this deranged idea.

“It’s only fair, we model for each other. Also, I introduced you to my friends so you could use them as your guinea pigs, you owe me one.” 

“That’s… different,” You shrug. You were grateful for his friends’ willingness to help and the sheer quantity of them was a perk. But you would not get up on that runaway, no way!

“No, it’s not.” 

“You know it is! You’re gorgeous… And I–”

“You what?” He interrupts with a thorny rasp. 

You jump at his sudden jab, suddenly self-conscious about your self-consciousness. 

“You know… I’m gonna make your clothes look ugly.”

Seungmin runs his tongue along his metal-clad teeth and slaps his hand over the cafeteria table.

“You’re gonna walk for me or I won’t do it for you. Don’t think of contacting me until you’re ready to give me the ultimatum.”

Harsh, yes. But he cared about you, more than he cared about anyone or anything, ever. You were the most gorgeous, caring, funny, intelligent, charismatic and talented person and his eyes. And everytime you put yourself down, it took every inch of restraint in his body to not grab your shoulders and yell just how much he loved you. 

Although, he regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. As soon as the anger subsided, he was ready to call you and take it all back. But you came running to your shared apartment, ready to apologise and agree. 

He was your bestest friend in the whole universe, you would do anything for Kim Seungmin. And it was about time you started doing it.

And all was forgotten by the time sketchbooks were splattered across the dining table and you exchanged ideas back and forth over chinese takeout. 

You were crazy about holidays and especially valentine’s day. It was only fair for your final assignment to reflect that. You had plenty of lovely sketches that were fitting for your early february deadline. But you racked your brain over the clothes that would fit Seungmin. 

Just what could possibly do his indescribable beauty justice? Any of your designs felt unbecoming of him. 

It’s when you’re splayed out on your sofa during your weekly movie night, watching Pride & Prejudice for the thousandth time over, that you get an idea. 

An idea so great you’re jumping and throwing the blanket over your half-asleep best friend. 

Seungmin, the poor fella, thinks something might’ve happened. So he waddles into your bedroom, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

You’re scrambling around for paper and pencils. 

“What’s up?” He asks, voice drenched in sleep. Had you not been entranced by your sudden burst of imagination, you certainly would’ve melted at just how adorable he looked.

“I’ve got your outfit,” is all the context you give him. 

“What?” He leans against the doorframe, fighting against his sleepy eyelids. 

“Mr. Darcy! How could I have not thought of it before! It was right underneath my nose!” You’re gesturing and your thoughts run all over the place, but you’ve got the brightest smile across your lips. 

And he stands there, watching you try and bring your vision to life, mumbles and grumbles coming out every now and then. Though his love-stricken smile is invisible to you.

Fabric shopping was always fun, especially when your best-friend tagged along. Seungmin had been keeping his inspiration a secret so far, despite your attempts, he was good at being quiet when he wished so. 

You looked at different textures and colours all day, leaving behind a good chunk of your savings at the chain store. But all for a good cause. 

There was plenty of cheaper fabric for mockups at home, so that’s where you started out. Since you didn’t want to bother Seungmin, his fit should be the last one – also, part of you was terrified of his look and how intricate it would be. 

You were still in the warm-toned shades of autumn by the time you had your collection ready for next february. 

All you needed were his measurements to get started on your Mr Darcy modern valentine’s day sort of look. It sounded strange to say out-loud, but the sketches looked great. 

Seungmin comes out of his room in a tight tank-top and loose boxer shorts and you gulp, tightening your fingers around your measuring tape, this would be the longest day of your life. 

Here he stands, in the middle of your room, surrounded by the fabrics you insisted he picked, with his arms stretched out and his chest available to you. 

Starting off easy, you run the tape from his shoulder to his wrists, fingernails lightly grazing his bare skin. His eyes don’t leave yours for a single second, especially when you’re standing so absurdly close. 

And when you have to basically almost wrap your arms around his chest to reach behind for the tape, he feels the odd urge to hug you and not let go.

You hugged often, of course, you did. You were best friends. 

However, standing in your strawberry lotion scented bedroom in summer pjs, feeling weirdly warm for the current temperature outside, Seungmin feels his skin burn every time your fingers meet his body. 

Seungmin is so beautifully proportionate, you think. Studying his slender arms and long legs, his torso, just perfectly built. In every way, he was destined to be the main character of a timeless romance. 

This is way past your normal antics of going all obsessed with the bodies that would fit your designs. Thinking about making the outfit Seungmin would wear for all to see. 

It’s like he would carry a piece of you. 

You’re chewing at your lower lip, revising all numbers and doing the maths in your head to gauge out how much of each fabric you’ve got left and how much you’ll need. 

“You got it?” He asks, startling you away from your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great. Your turn now,” He smiles, stretching out his hand for your sparkly, strawberry-scented pen and notepad. 

So came the dreaded day he would take your measurements.

You haven’t done your own sizing in over a year now, an irrational fear of the tape finds you each time you think about it. 

And part of you is totally ready to call the whole thing off and just beg Seungmin to please find someone else. 

But he gives you no window of space to talk, pushing you to stand in the middle of the room and pulling your arms in the right position.

And you feel extremely exposed. 

You’re so entangled in your spiral of self-hatred, you completely miss the sweat that threatens to pool at his forehead, or how often he’s gulped in the past five minutes. 

Though he constantly craved close proximity to you, this time might be enough to kill him. 

Your chest has always been the bane of his existence. Squishy, soft skin always pressing up against body whenever you hugged him happily, practically pouring out of any piece of clothing with a tighter fit. Rubbing around his arm when you’re walking hand-in-hand at the shopping centre. 

And he feels horrid for being such a pervert, he does. 

You’re his loving, kind, best-friend and he’s always ogling your body with his dirty male mind. 

God, your waist. Abundant flesh folded over in adorable rolls, so perfectly shaped for his hands and his hands only. He imagined himself grabbing handfuls of your ass, running his hands all over your hips and waist.

Your thighs, so full and creamy; in particular when you wear the one summer dress your sister gave you on your last birthday. That dress drives him absolutely crazy. Floral linen with a wrap-around layered cut that leaves his mind running around thoughts of undoing those flimsy ties and finding that gorgeous body you’re so intent on hiding. 

“Minnie?” You ask, a bucket of hot water over his flames. 

Your voice is so soft, dripping in affection as always. 

“Have you got it?”

He gulps, immediately shying away from your body lest he be corrupted by any evil thoughts. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Are you alright?”

Seungmin nods. 

“It’s bad isn’t it?” You scratch at your nape, eyes avoiding his.

“Wha- What?”

“My measurements,” You shrug. 

“No– No. Absolutely not, you’re fine, you’re perfect. It’s just– I’ve been rethinking my collection lately– Nothing to do with you,” He loses track of his words, rambling on and on while your love-stricken heart hangs hopelessly onto the word ‘perfect’.

“Well,” You fidget with the hem of your pyjama shirt, eyes slowly prodding at his reaction, “Anything I can help with?”

Seungmin finally smiles and your heart blooms in warmth, “Not yet, but there will be.” 

And so on, your days are consumed with the mindless routine of class and working on your project. 

Work went great with Seungmin’s friends, they were all so friendly and outgoing, you felt right at home. And everything looked perfect. Just missing one final look. 

Though Seungmin was more than willing to do as many fittings as you’d like, you both scheduled a double try-on day. Which would also be the first time you’d see his design. 

You keep fidgeting with your fingers, anxiety gnawing at your brain with every passing second. He’d locked himself in his room for ‘last-minute corrections’ and you were almost going crazy.

An hour later, Seungmin finally emerges from his room, a plastic cover draped over his design, keeping you from peeking. 

“So?!” You inquire, he keeps avoiding your eyes, for some reason. 

“I’m ready,” He nods and so do you. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser goes first?” You ask.

“Please,” he nods fervently and you smile nervously. 

So you stand before him.

He calls it out. Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

You put out Scissors.

And he put out Rock.

You go first.

Shit. 

Seungmin seems all too relieved, still psyching himself up to show his design. 

You pull your creation from the plastic covering and hand it to him. A creamy white button-up with flowy sleeves, a velvet crimson coat with embroidered details following its length and black leather trousers in a high-waisted cut. 

“Good luck, I guess,” You joke and he laughs.

“No need for it. It’s gonna be the best,"he says. 

Though when he finds himself changing into the set in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin is astonished, admiring every single detail you’ve poured into it. His fingers caress the handmade lacy collar, feeling the hours spent in every thread and stitch. 

And it fits his body perfectly; white linen drapes across his chest, hugging his pecs but flowing down freely down his torso. 

“You ready?” He calls out and you gnaw at your fingers in anxiety. 

“Yeah.”

Seungmin pads through the hallway, eyes scanning the living room until they meet yours. You smile, eyes glistening in adoration, taking in this moment as if it would end too soon.

“Wow.”

He smiles, “I know, it’s amazing… You’re amazing.” 

“No– It’s– You look so… Handsome,” It wasn’t uncommon for you to compliment each other, but this once felt too intimate. 

Seungmin blushes, scratching at his neck. 

“So… My turn, I guess?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Oh, how you dreaded this moment, not that you doubted his abilities but with your luck, you’d ruin his hard work with your subpar looks.

Seungmin hands you an opaque plastic cover, he notices your hesitation, but gives up on saying anything lest you actually give up. 

He plops onto the sofa as you leave for your room, chewing on his own lips. He hoped this dress could convey everything he felt for you, even if a little bit. 

It takes you excruciating 5 minutes to finally come back into the living room. 

Seungmin stands up, letting the cushion he’d held fall to the ground and match his jaw.

His work, – an asymmetrical white dress with a poofy skirt and a translucent layer of tulle decorated with snowflake shaped beads over its length – hugs your body perfectly.

You look absolutely ethereal standing before him with a shy smile, wearing the clothes he made with his own hands, every stitch done with thoughts of you. 

“You’re breathtaking,” 

You laugh quietly, “The dress is doing most of the work. It’s beautiful, Minnie, I don’t have any words–”

“No– You’re… Gorgeous.”

He’s serious, dead serious. 

And you’re stuck in a staring contest, standing five feet apart in your living room, time comes to a standstill. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn't– Not to you.” 

You study his expression, searching for any, absolutely any sign of jest, but he’s serious. He truly thinks you’re… pretty?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes,” Seungmin takes a step forward, “The prettiest.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever…” 

You want to believe his words, Gosh, you do. But it’s hard, it’s hard to believe anyone would look at you and think anything even remotely positive. 

“Minnie– Seungmin, please,” You breathe out, “Please, tell me you’re not joking about this– I won’t forgive you.”

“Every day and night I think of you and I can’t take my mind off how you manage to steal my breath away every damn time.”

Your heart skips a beat or ten; he steps forward and you wish to close the space between you for once but your body doesn’t move. 

You can’t take this, not if he isn’t serious, no. You would never recover from something like this. 

“Say something, please,” He pleads. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Seungmin freezes.

And you curse at yourself, there, you’ve done it now. You’ve gone ahead and ruined everything.

But he lets out a sigh of relief and his hands find your jaw, pulling you toward his body at once. 

Your fingers run up the soft fabric, gripping at the freshly overlocked edges, his pale skin teasingly on display through a tiny heart-shaped window which would later be adorned with blood-red rhinestones, though some had already been placed. 

And your breath gets caught on your throat, threatened with the lull of proximity and his minty breath fanning on your lips. Nails digging into the velvet fabric of the overcoat, your eyes are stuck to his enticing chest. 

He smells of baby powder, chalk, and of the blueberry-scented shampoo you bought on sale last month. And you let his perfume lure your stupid heart into an erratic rhythm. Let the heat of his body find your own, setting your cheeks on fire. 

When your lips meet his, it’s as if a current runs through your bloodstream, awakening every cell and fibre in your body to the taste of the man you love. 

“I’ve waited for this for forever, it seems–” He whispers against your kiss-reddened lips. 

His fingers are tangled in your hair and his lips crash against yours once again. He’s forceful, desperate. All-consuming and ravenous. 

You can only melt into his touch and seep into his body, hoping to become one and never be apart ever again. Oh no, you couldn’t stand another day away from his gorgeous lips now you’ve had a taste. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide you, taking the smallest of steps back until your legs meet the sofa and you both fall down with a loud ‘poof’.

His hands cup your cheeks, tongue ravishing your mouth with relentless want, he drinks every moan and sigh before it even makes it past your lips. You’ve barely made out for five minutes and you can feel the volume of his hard-on poking at your hip bone. 

Oh, it’s an incomparable rush of dopamine to affect someone so much. 

Seungmin kisses at your lips, cheeks and jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin until he leaves behind his mark; his claim on you. His teeth graze along your skin, erupting goosebumps over its path.

“Don’t– Don’t want to ruin your dress–” You sigh, willing yourself to push him away. 

He smiles against your collarbones.

“Wanna take it off, then?”

An indescribable heat flushes your body.

“Seungmin!!!” You yell. 

“What? Take it off…” His hand reaches for the hem of the dress, toying with the soft tulle. 

“No-!” 

“Let me see your body, hm?” He hums, puppy-eyed and all.

“It’s–” You look away. You could barely fathom the idea of standing naked before anyone let alone the guy you’ve loved for ages. 

Seungmin licks his lips, “Look, I’ve– I’ve been dreaming of this– You, under me…” His fingers ghost against your bare thigh. “I– I… You have no idea what you do to me, now, do you?”

You shake your head.

He reaches for your hand and then places it above the leather-clad bulge that rages in his trousers. As soon as your hand barely grazes the fabric, Seungmin gulps. 

You’re overtaken with a desire to pleasure him.

You’re rid of the dress, – even with your pleas to treasure it, Seungmin throws it aside, eager to feel you bare. 

You attempt to cover your modesty, but he solves that issue by pinning your hands atop your head. As he truly sees your body for the first time, you watch his eyes glisten in true adoration, a dark hint of lust behind them. Your skin burns hot under his attention.

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know…” He jokes, but there’s a hint of truth, his heart pounds against his ribcage. 

He peppers kisses along your chest, tongue licking at your skin, watching you squirm and sigh at his every touch, how your nipples stand hardened and kiss-bitten. Trailing down your stomach, he makes sure to nip at the abundant flesh, to marvel at how plump and absolutely perfect you are. 

Oh, and he mumbles at every move just how ethereal you are.

His lips graze your inner thighs, licking at your skin but not where you need him the most. Every time he breathes against your aching pussy, you practically jump. 

Though he planned to tease you endlessly, Seungmin can barely hold back his wish to do nothing but lose himself between your gorgeous thighs. 

He licks a long, torturous strip along your core.

You squeal. 

But despite your squealing and squirming, Seungmin’s got a strong grip on your hips and he is making sure your pussy is all his for the tasting. And he finds it, he might be the one most affected, after all.

You taste absolutely divine, liquid euphoria flowing through his lips and eager tongue. He eats you out like the world is ending; as if this is all a dream and he will wake up alone and hot in his bedroom. 

And you moan his name with each syllable sounding more tempting than the last. 

Only once you come on his tongue, does he rest; but not for long, no. 

If it were up to him, he would get a couple orgasms out of you, lay in between your legs for hours. 

Seungmin leans back on his knees, admiring just how absolutely fucked-out you look with messy hair and heaving chest. And you look up at him with glossy, swollen lips and teary eyes. He can’t resist you, after all.

He kisses you again and again, fingers fidgeting with his trousers; Goddammit, why didn’t you put a zipper in this finger? Historical accuracy be damned when you want to fuck someone!

After his trousers are off, you urge him to lose the shirt as well and he complies. Seungmin is gorgeous; milky, unblemished skin with a slender build. 

“Look at you, so perfect– So eager– Just for me–” He breathes out, tip teasingly rubbing along your dripping core. 

You mewl, hands reaching out for him.

“Come on, baby, tell me– Tell me what you want.”

“I– I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

He curses a thousand bad words under his breath. 

When he finally slips it in, his fingers dig into your love handles, leaving behind tiny crescent moon shaped marks. You arch into him and he holds you firmly, arms wrapped around your body. 

He manoeuvres your legs over his thighs for a better angle and you feel him reach the deepest parts of your body. And you sigh, letting yourself feel full, stretched beyond bliss. 

It’s only when he notices with a devilish smirk how you’ve started to grind against his hips that he starts to move.

You are bathed in pleasure and lust.

His hands run up and down your leg, worshipping your thighs and your stomach that jiggles with every powerful thrust of his hips. Oh, and your tits, how hypnotic is it that they bounce up and down?

You moan his name over and over, mind hazy with pleasure and he lavishes in that feeling. Of rendering you cockdrunk, providing you with inconceivable bliss.

Seungmin pounds into you relentlessly, skin slapping sounds an obscene symphony that fills your ears, only accompanied by the breathy moans; Oh, the sweetest of sounds were the way he sang your name.

You clench around him, greedy and lovestruck. 

“Minnie– I’m gonna–”

“Shit– Come on, baby. Let go–” He groans out, hand reaching to rub your clit. 

Your second orgasm crashes into your body with an unstoppable explosion. You squirm and Seungmin leans forward to capture your lips in kiss, to drink your most euphoric moans. 

Hands wrapped around his back, you pull him flush to your heaving chest, letting the pleasure find your fuzzy brain. 

When he finally reaches his own climax, he pulls out, painting your skin with translucent ropes of white. Draping over your stomach pale strings of his seed, a claim. 

You’re smiling when his eyes meet yours and he is filled with immense relief; That’s you’re happy and well. 

He lays by your side, pulling you on top of him with a smile that mirrors yours. 

You lay on his chest, drawing figure eights along his soft skin to the stable sound of his heartbeat. Your own heart is draped in joy beyond comprehension. 

“I think the clothes look great,” Seungmin jokes.

You laugh. “Yeah, I think they do.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for using very harsh words after trying to defend my sister?

So, me (17F) have a little sister (14F) and we study on the same school. My sister is usually very shy, but a very fun kid to be around when you meet her. She's kind, smart and very funny. She knows how to fight when she has to protect someone (me, our cousins, etc) because she is a very loyal person, but she doesn't know how to even yell when someone fights to her. She gets embarrassed easily and gets nervous, she chooses to ignore.

She's chubby (which it doesn't make her any less beautiful) and she already faced some unfunny jokes from other people before, which made her insecure about her body, but something so serious never happened to her... Until two weeks ago. So, I was hanging around with my friends, going back to my classroom when the school break was over. But one of my sister's little friend came to me and told my sister was crying in the bathroom and didn't wanted to get back to class.

My heart skipped a beat and I ran straight to the bathroom. When I got there, my sister's nerd little friends were all around her trying to talk to her, and she was there: her head hidden in her hands and hipcupping so much she couldn't even talk to me. One of her friends told me there was a girl in her class (let's call her Amanda) that was bullying her for at least a month, but now Amanda got worse: she called my sister an ugly cow in front of the whole class and said my sister's ginger hair looks bad. And Amanda also put chewed gum in her hair. Man, my vision got red. I was out of the bathroom before anyone could stop me and the only thing I heard was my sister telling me to don't go. But it didn't matter. That friend (the one that came to me to tell me about my sister) was following me and told which one of the kids walking to the classroom was Amanda. When I laid my eyes on Amanda, I realized that I've seen her around the school halls before. I know her kind: those young girls that are not even on highschool but try to act older. Using long ass nails and talking loudly about inappropriate things so she can be that girl. I tapped her back, she turned to me and I said "Are you the bitch bothering [my sister's name]?" and... Well, that's when the chaos began.

Basically, all the kids from her class and other classes were watching it all. Amanda was still acting all tough and saying she was just joking, that my sister was too weak to handle the truth and told me to fuck off. I also said some shit to her (I'm not gonna say some words because I think is inappropriate even for tumblr, but the least offensive thing I said was that she needed to grow tf up. And I called her a whore). But there was something that now is a water divider. Amanda is black and has a afro hair, that's always in a Black Power style. and I'm not racist. Never been. I don't even know what happened in this specific moment, but I was so done with her attitude that I think maybe I lost my head a bit? Amanda was trying to play victim saying I was making this a big deal. My sister's friend (that was having my back the whole fight) threw in Amanda's face that she got gum stuck on my sister hair, and Amanda said "yes, and? What she [and proceeded to point at me] gonna do about that, huh? try to stick gum in my hair too?" and I said "I don't need the gum, a comb can do the work already. Can you even pet your head without losing your hand?"

For a moment is like everyone went silent.

And the in the next moment, Amanda was screaming her lungs in the hall, yelling "fuck you". And said "not so fun when somebody makes fun of your hair now, right bitch?". Anyway, the teaches broke up the fight, everyone went back to class (and gladly my sister went back to class with no problem, her friends had her back). Amanda got detention and the principal will have some serious talk with Amanda and her mom (that wasn't any happy about her daughter behaving like a bully). Like I said, that was two weeks ago. Everything went to normal but some people still talk about it. My friends say that I am right, but they're saying I should be more careful next because what I said was racist. I didn't even realised how bad that sounded until now, because when the fight was happening, I could only thinking about different ways I could jump in her throat. My other friend said that he thought it was good that I said that, because, racist or not, now the girl will think twice before hating someone's hair too. My teacher (one of the teachers that broke up the fight) said she was at my side, but that I should be more careful because I I ran the risk of losing my reason.

Now I'm seriously thinking, I'm feelling kind of guilty now. Was I the asshole or not? Saying that was a bad move, even if my intention was just making her taste her own medicine?

[gogandmagog]

I just want you to know that the Thematic Implications of Ken Ford dying in WWI instead of Walter lives in my brain now. The way it would so subtly change the story! That being the Hero won't save you, that being the Heroine doesn't mean you get your prize at the end, that "the white flame of sacrifice" doesn't mean you will get to be the sacrificial lamb--that the sensitive genius will have to live with the horrors anyway. Rilla being the symbol of all those girls who were left without sweethearts instead of Una--who might instead by a symbol of all those girls who found their sweethearts irrevocably changed. Obsessed.

SO WELL SAID, @sparrowsarus!!!!   VERY MUCH. All of this, very much.     Obviously, I understand why it had to be a Blythe, for the simple fact that it cuts the reader ever so much deeper than the converse option of losing the very negligible Ken Ford... Walter is a loss that stings everyone, because we are so profoundly attached to him, and if not to him, then to his family. What hurts them hurts us. But everything you say does feel thematically more attractive to the after-shocks message underlying in the story, because of the occasional inference to the still-coming uphill battle of post-war recovery. Maud can be quoted as personally saying, “If ever peace comes again, we will not know how to live in it.” And really, I think of Rilla were to have ever to’ve had a sequel, this thought, together with what you’ve outlined would’ve been far more realistic to grapple with. Rilla’s ending, as it stands, is rooted in an idealistic ‘return’ to innocence, as we see demonstrated with the coinciding return of her childhood lisp... but to me it’s also another semi-contrived signature fairytale ending that we often see in LMM’s classic wrap-up scenes. And for me, this is the only time I actually do clock her classic quick wrap-up as contrived. Usually, I fully recognise that her books were meant for children; that she herself calls them fairytales, and states that the rules laid out in her books would never work in real life. That the natural adult world and the natural adult questions that come with them, don’t have a place or belong in these fairytales. Kids have an effortless trust in happy-ever-afters that grownups struggle with. But Rilla spent so long being seeped in harsh reality, and the pain of a very ugly War... that really, if not for x-ray vision we get from TBAQ that shows us the Blythe’s (and Una’s!) residual struggle, the ending Rilla got would almost feel unequal to the pain in its pages.

The sensitive genius having to live with the horrors anyway? Could’ve been an even stronger message of hope and resilience, in some ways. Learning the hard parts of Keeping the Faith. Faith put to the test, faith contending with survivors guilt.

Rilla, in Una’s spot, though! I kind of waffle with the idea of her as being a lifelong leftover sweetheart, the way Una is. Right before Ken comes back, Rilla’s coolly resigned herself to the notion of him never coming back for her, and in the very next moment shrugs it off and has decided to go to Redmond after all, lol. 😅 Of course she would’ve had an appropriate period of mourning for Ken, but I honestly think she would’ve married someone else, in the years following.

[sketch-guardian]

Hiii! I’m the same person who asked for the headcannons about the new classmates but I just wanna know if you’d ever be comfortable to post headcannons about all the classmates with a child mc who sees them as older siblings or parental figures. If not I totally understand!! I just wanted to ask since I live for found family tropes and I’m starting to get obsessed with your ocs 😋

I hope you’re doing well!! <33

Hello again!💜I'm fine, thank you for asking☺and I hope you are doing well too✨I'm happy that you're starting to like my OCs! You flatter me😳and don't worry, your request is perfectly valid😌so I hope you enjoy the result:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CHILD MC WHO SEES THEM AS A PARENT/OLDER SIBILING FIGURE"

DEMYA

Demya has a soft spot for kids, in the sense that, seeing them as frail creatures, she considers them in need of protection and care, this however doesn't change the fact that she still remains a bit feral by nature, especially due to the way she was raised, so every now and then Demya could be seen carrying child MC by the collar of their shirt with her teeth or some poor unfortunate soul could witness MC attached to Demya's back like a koala while she runs on all fours. In any case, Demya would be a great, playful, energetic big sister, who would hunt for the best food to share with child MC. Plus in her heart, Demya would love to have an offspring in the future, so she would be thrilled if MC saw her as worthy of a such an important role and would do anything both not to disappoint and to protect them, Demya doesn't want to lose her family a second time after all...

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra may not seem the best with children on the surface, given his rough and harsh attitude, however living with Mobim has accustomed him to looking after another living being and therefore it wouldn't be too surprising to see him with Mobim and child MC in tow, like a mother hen with her ducklings. Domnra would at first be stunned by MC's view of him as an older brother/father, especially since he doesn't think of himself as a reassuring figure, however he would be quietly touched by the sentiment, it would remind Domnra of the times he cared for other soldiers back in his day as an angel, therefore he would promise to protect child MC at all costs, just like Mobim, to raise them and teach them to defend themselves. Speaking of Mobim, for child MC, Mobim would be like a little sibiling to play with

AZUL

Azul is a born entertainer and his characteristic of changing color depending on his mood attracts a lot of attention, therefore he would have no problem dealing with children or people in general. Having also raised Demya in a certain sense, since he taught her to read, write and essentially civilized her, Azul would feel a little nostalgic for the good old days and would behave in an attentive and caring manner, while still remaining fun, maybe a little clingy, he would definitely start ugly crying if child MC called him big brother or dad. Azul would also hang child MC's drawings everywhere if they were to make them, showing them off to everyone

ZURI

Zuri would prove a little hesitant at the beginning, not considering herself the best role model or exactly loving enough for child MC, in fact she wouldn't understand why child MC considers her suitable for such role, given her stoic nature, however Zuri wouldn't bear to disappoint their expectations and therefore over time she would get used to the new dynamic. For Zuri it would be more natural than expected to take care of child MC, having done the same with Azul and Domnra after their fall from grace and over time Zuri would realize that she enjoyed having child MC by her side, like a found family. Zuri would sew tailor-made clothes for child MC and fix their stuffed animals with patches in case of tears, as well as buy several gifts

ODON

Although Odon scares most living beings with their imposing and eldritch presence, it seems that animals and young people are curious about them and tend to hover around Odon, as if they understood Odon has truly changed for the better and trusted them. Odon would be intrigued by child MC and although puzzled by their desire to be in their company, Odon would be flattered and not at all bothered, they would also engage in telling stories and seeing MC play with their eye-like creatures. Odon has never had a family, so the fact that child MC sees them as an important member of their found family would make Odon feel accepted and at peace. Child MC, in Odon's presence, would be the safest child in all of Devildom and they would do various activities together, such as reading, visiting museums, Odon would also carry child MC on their shoulders, being very tall. Odon likes to attend child MC's tea parties as well

REMIEL

Remiel, despite her somber attitude, knows how to handle children quite well, because it unfortunately happened more than once in the course of her celestial duty that she had to help children's souls reach the afterlife, lost and afraid, with only her to guide them towards the light. Remiel is very patient and has both a soothing presence and a soft voice, so from a logical point of view, she could understand why child MC bonded with her, even if Remiel would wonder why they chose her, when surely there were other more appropriate choices. Having trouble understanding feelings and being quite dense, nurturing child MC could help Remiel comprehend the human world better and experience genuine sensations she has never felt before. Remiel would also like to introduce child MC to her parents, to include them and make them feel even more part of the family, as a little sibiling or child, hoping Azrael and Death don't intimidate child MC too much with their appearance. Remiel would be good at putting child MC to sleep, cradling them with her wings

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel isn't used to interacting with humans, being often busy with celestial matters, so he would be pleasantly surprised to have attracted child MC's attention, especially considering his frequent quietness. Nathaniel would be an excellent teacher and would help child MC with homework and other matters, even difficult ones, specifying how important it is to solve them without the use of violence when possible. The concept of family may be foreign to Nathaniel, but being a very patient angel, he would be glad to walk on such journey of growth alongside child MC, experiencing the joy of raising them. Nathaniel would be chill, but still protective of child MC and would be willing to accompany them to explore and discover both the Celestial Realm and Devildom. Nathaniel would also likely teach child MC his way of communicating only through gestures

URIEL

Uriel isn't exactly a loving type and as a warrior angel, she is more used to fighting than looking after others, so at the beginning, rather than taking care of child MC, it would almost seem as if she were training them, almost like a soldier, obviously not overdoing it, given that they are still a child. It would take Uriel some time to get used to such a dynamic, but over time she would start to feel proud of having been chosen to represent such an important role, the fact that child MC looks up to her would slowly soften Uriel's edges. Some activities that Uriel and child MC would do together would be fighting with fake swords, in which Uriel would lose only to boost MC's self-esteem and fly embraced by her safe arms while doing cool tricks, at a safe distance from the ground. Uriel would also be quite strict when it comes to rules, so she would find a way to make them more bearable and manageable for child MC

[danisbrainrot]

supermodel

tigris x reader

tw: smoking, drugs, alcohol, implied/mentioned ed, coriolanus is his own tag, (maybe a slight) power imbalance where tigris is a stylist and reader is her model (I don't know how modelling works LMFAO).

I'm purely using information I learnt from ugly betty; the title may or may not be inspired by a certain måneskin song.

you drag on your cigarette, watching the puff of smoke vanish in the afternoon air. you were waiting patiently outside as your stylist, tigris, added last minute modifications to your outfit. you'd gotten there early in the morning like she requested and you thought the photo shoot was going good, until you almost broke the shirt—her assistant struggled to zip it up. it didn't matter how tigris insisted it was her fault for not getting the correct measurements, your stomach dropped as you realise that you hadn't lost enough weight.

it was a miracle you'd managed to book this gig at all. tigris was an elusive stylist—the cousin of the president himself—and your modelling career was still in its infancy. you wonder what's taking her so long; your cigarette butt the only part still left. you groan, flicking it on the ground and stomping on it, before knocking on the door.

tigris opens it, apologising profusely for keeping you waiting, before she welcomes you back inside. you smiled tightly at her, trying to conceal the insecurity coursing through you. she directed you behind the divider and began to personally assist you, the zip sliding up smoothly. "there we go," she mumbles, a proud smile on her face.

the photographer had you try a few poses, but it seemed whatever you did it wasn't working—the angles were too unflattering, the lighting too harsh or your expression looked pained. you felt nervous, knowing how desperately you needed this gig, how it would shoot you into stardom.

tigris, noticing how anxious you were, pulls you aside. "are you okay?" she asks, placing a comforting arm on your shoulder. "it's not your fault, I promise," but you shake your head.

"it is. I'm not good enough," you reply, holding back the tears threatening to explode. she sighs softly, embracing you tightly.

she pulls away, staring directly in your eyes. "I chose you. I think you're exactly right for this photo shoot. for my clothes," she whispers, smiling reassuringly at you. you return the smile, your heart beat quickening—you couldn't help but admire the woman; you also felt a warmth in your stomach. the beginnings of a crush was forming.

"thank you," you blush softly. you tuck your hair behind your ears, a newfound confidence filling you as you step out back in front of the camera.

the rest of the day went by fast, as you struck pose after pose, leaving tigris cheering and clapping and the photographer calling out praises. you could hardly contain your infectious laughter, filling the room with joy.

after the shoot, tigris invites you back to her apartment. she offers you wine, champagne, all kinds of alcoholic beverages, while showing you more sketches she designed just for you. you don't know how she knew about you, or why she picked you, but you were eternally grateful.

it was a massive commercial success; tigris was receiving huge praise for her new line and your agent couldn't put the phone down. everyone who was anyone wanted to book you. however, you always made time for tigris—after all, she made you famous.

you had been invited to an exclusive party, for the elite of the capitol, in the president's mansion. you have no idea how, but you suspected it had something to do with the fact his cousin was obsessed with you. it was hard not to be, when you were the covergirl of nearly every magazine.

anxiously, you snorted a line of cocaine in the car, feeling the familiar buzz bring you to life. it was a typical occurrence that you were the life of the party. there wasn't a song you couldn't dance to, a silence you couldn't fill and a party you couldn't liven up.

alcohol was shoved in your face everywhere you went —it was rude to reject it, you concluded, so you gladly drank every drink offered to you. noticing how fancy everyone was dressed, you felt almost out of place in your mini dress and high heels. tigris had designed it specifically for you, however, so you couldn't not wear it. she designs most of your wardrobe, now that you thought about it.

you were conversing with some important gamemaker when tigris intercepted you, wanting to introduce you to her cousin and his wife. you smile politely, shaking hands with president snow before kissing his wife livia on the cheeks. tigris began gushing about how wonderful of a model you were, and that she was proud to have discovered you. you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn as the president eyed you up and down.

as an avox walked past, you grabbed a glass of the finest panem wine and almost downed it immediately. tigris eyed you warily, worrying about how quickly the alcohol was flowing through you. livia, noticing her husband's gaze, scowls and excuses the two of them—heading in an old academy friend's direction instead.

"are you okay?" tigris asked, taking a hold of your hand and stroking it with her thumb soothingly. "livia and coriolanus can be cold, I understand—"

"no it's not that," you lie, smiling your million dollar smile. "just feeling a bit weird, that's all." in reality, you felt yourself coming down.

you head to the bathroom and do another line, waiting for that delicious buzz to hit. the door opens suddenly, and you look up in shock to see tigris' face fall. "oh no, not you too," she sighs, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you elsewhere.

stumbling over your feet, you let her lead you to a guest room in the president's mansion. she sits you on the bed, forcing water down your throat—she also begged you to eat something, but you refused; her pleas falling on deaf ears. you couldn't afford to put any weight on as you had too many gigs lined up.

it hurt her seeing you this vulnerable. you had passed out on the bed, your hair a mess, your makeup smudged and reeking of alcohol. she sighs, sitting next to you and brushing the hair of your sweaty face. she leaned down hesitantly, unable to help herself, before pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

she scolds herself for taking advantage of you, getting up to leave when she hears you stir. "please don't leave me alone," you whimper. she turns to face you, smiling reassuringly.

"don't worry, I'll stay right here," she promises, holding your hand.

when you woke up the following morning, your head pounded and all details from last night were muggy. the only memory was of soft lips pressed against your own.

you groaned, holding your head in pain before getting up. you found the toilet, sticking your head in it and emptying last night's dinner. you almost jump in shock when you feel someone hold your hair back, rubbing their hand up and down your back soothingly.

"you're okay," tigris affirms, holding you in her arms as you cry softly. sobbing into her chest, she rests her chin against your head, her grip on you firm and comforting.

"I hate how out of control I get," you sob, sniffling as you pull away from her.

she sighs, wiping your tears away with her thumbs. "I'll help you, I promise," she squeezes your hands reassuringly.

"did you kiss me last night?" you blurt out. you'd been dying to know ever since you realised it was her hand rubbing your back as you vomited.

tigris cheeks turn a deep scarlet, as she grows flustered and tries to come up with an explanation. "i-um, im so sorry I shouldn't—"

you interrupt her, "it's fine if you did. I just kind of wish you did it when I was sober," you tease, a soft smirk appears on your face. she bites her lip and avoids your gaze in embarrassment.

"are you sober now?" she asks, refusing to meet your eyes.

you laugh, shaking your head—mostly in disbelief. "I've got vomit breath," you reply.

"I don't mind," tigris whispers, suddenly looking at you lovingly.

you pause, your breath catching on your throat as you process what she said. it's your turn to blush, as she leans in slowly. you get up, however, scouring the cabinet and finding mouthwash. tigris giggles as you swish, gargle and rinse your mouth.

"now I'm ready," you exclaim, as she stands up. awkwardly you crash into her, placing one hand on her hip and the other on the back of her head. she laughs, wrapping both her arms around your waist and kisses you back passionately.

you throw yourself into the kiss, finally letting go and enjoying it—you've wanted to kiss her ever since she'd been so understanding and caring on your first photoshoot. it was actually mortifying hiding your huge crush on her. now that you had her, you'd be sure to enjoy the blissful moment with her.

[tied-ash]

Is it midnight? Yes. But I’m fixating on my Opposite AU - specifically Hu - so here’s a fun fact!

Hu has nicknames for everyone in the cast. Some of them change time to time, so… ya! Here they are:

Teruko - Babe: Starting off real strong. Occasionally, Hu would change it to “Baby”. It’s unclear if she means this in a romantic sense, but Teruko seems to think otherwise.

Alexander - Xander: To Hu, it’s just a cooler name. However, Alexander doesn’t like it when Hu uses the name on him. Maybe if somebody like Teruko does, he’ll be merciful. And Alexander is not feeling merciful with Hu. They hate each other.

Charles - Bill: Bill Nye the Science guy. Need I say more?

Ace - Mr. Blank-Slate: Considering that Ace seems to lack in personality, Hu thought that this name was fitting. However, she is constantly trying to change his name because even though it fits his personality, she wants something that fits his looks.

Arei - Sis: Always said in an aggressive and harsh tone. She tried calling Arei “mom” in the same tone, but hated it. So she changed it to that.

Rose - Hoo-Ha: Seeing as how Rose is constantly panicking over something, Hu thought it was fitting.

Eden - Shorty: Hu hates the fact that this name is so uncreative. She’s been trying to come up with something, but she doesn’t seem to care enough to find the right one.

Levi - Bestie: Levi and Hu seem to get along the best. And given Levi’s almost diva-like personality, Hu knew that Levi wouldn’t mind being called that. Not like she cared, though.

Arturo - Pretty Boy: She doesn’t have much of a reason for this. Kinda just because Arturo deals with ugly people and makes them pretty. That’s totally it.

Min - Lazy-ass: The only one in which Hu swears, she used this nickname when she found out that Min was a large procrastinator.

David Chiem - Star-Boy: David is the one with the most set-in-stone nicknames. Star-Boy, Mr.Goodietwoshoes, Xander’s boyfriend, Little Miss Perfect… he has a lot. David doesn’t seem to mind all that much - although he gets a bit confused with the second to last one.

Veronika - Weirdo: She chose this name because she KNOWS Veronika hates it. While she doesn’t talk much about Veronika’s interests, she just calls her weird and hates on all of her horror.

Julia - Doll-face: To Hu, it just seemed fitting. After all, she’s the newest face of the Rosales family.

Whit - Cupid-Boy: She also calls him “crybaby” (which is a complete reference to the Amazing Digital Circus quote “Which leaves crybaby and Hoo-ha to go handle the Zooble situation.”)

Nico - Pipsqueak: Considering Nico’s considerable size, Hu knew it was fitting. Besides, Nico finds it cute.

MonoTV - The thing: She has little to no respect for MonoTV, so often times, she won’t even say it’s name. Whenever someone asks what she’s talking about, she makes dog ears with her hands.

Also, I’m working on introductions for each character!! :D Watch out for that!

[popopretty]

Hi, how is your day? I want to ask you about Dazai's character and its developments in the series, and what do you think of him? Do you think he's smarter than fyodor? Thank you for the answer in advance... And in the end, I would like to thank you for your hard work and your wonderful style of writing. it is relly special ..

Hi, thanks for the message. I am glad u like what I do (I don’t really “write”, just “translate”, though).

I’m quite bad at expressing my opinions. I normally do not give much thought to things until I am asked about it. So u may find it my answer all over the place because I haven’t had it arranged in my head, it’s more like pulling out old notes from a rusty drawer. So I’m sorry about it in advanced. And this is all my personal opinion, so you don’t have to agree with me.

Dazai is a complicated and interesting character for me. He is smart, too smart that it brings him misery. People say ignorance is bliss, right? Then Dazai must be the most unfortunate guy on earth. Even Asagiri once described him as someone who has lived for 2000 years. I, with the brain of a normal person, can’t bring myself to imagine how boring life would be for him, knowing things too well. Some might say that he was being overdramatic when he was young, and that he’d regret having all those thoughts when he gets older. But I personally don’t think so. I think the pain and agony he felt was real, then or now. Just that in the past, he hadn’t met people who would surprise him, or go beyond his calculations, he lived on thinking humans were ugly, sinful and stupid and didn’t understand why they should be saved. His head must have been overwhelmed with thoughts that no one would ever be able to understand, and no one would even try to understand. That is why he was always lonely, and suicidal. I don’t think he really wanted to die, he just couldn’t find what to live for.

The thing I like about Dazai’s character is that he fundamentally didn’t change, even with all the so-called character developments. He was still the smart, and sad and lonely guy that he used to be. But he have met people who made him want to try living, peope who gave him a purpose and people who genuinely cared about him. And those are things that even his genius brain couldn’t have predicted. From a fifteen year old who believed nothing was worth living for, he has become able to tell Kyouka that everyone deserves a second chance in life, to Fyodor that it is okay even if we are all sinfully stupid, and admit that no matter how well him and Fyodor can foresee things, the fate of the world is not decided by them, but the imperfect human beings that are fighting for what they deem precious out there. I doubt Dazai will ever get rid of his suicidal thoughts, or loneliness, but at least he has things he wants to protect, and it gives him the motivation to live on. We haven’t seen him talking about dying for no reasons for so long. Now he only lets himself get hurt, or take risky action for the greater sake (BEAST is not counted cuz that is a totally different universe), and I think it is a good sign in his character development.

I forgot to write about his relationship with Akutagawa and Atsushi. Basically, I don’t think Dazai was a good mentor. Someone who hardly experienced failure is not likely to become a good mentor. He treated Akutagawa badly in the past because all he could see was that the weak could not survive in the harsh world and there was no saving for them. But the meeting with Oda has changed his way of thinking. He now sees orphans and the weak as those he has to protect, that’s why the way he treated Atsushi is very different from that of Akutagawa. He is still not the best mentor, but he is better now.

About Fyodor, I don’t think he is smarter than Fyodor. They must be on the same level of wits. Dazai actually can act more human when he is around people like him, so having Fyodor as an opponent can actually be very entertaining to him. Even if Dazai is going to win the final battle, I don’t think it is because Dazai is smarter. He is just backed up by more people in the “somewhat beautiful” side.

[fountainpenguin]

Added a tag on my blog for #flower exes in case you're a follower who wants to block analyses/commentary like this going forward. I'll try to make a list of other tags that might be useful for other relationships.

---

ngl but I think this snippet from Scott's Real Life POV:

Scott: /kills Jimmy Jimmy staring as Scott hands him a flower: You know what happens if you give me this... [Marriage proposal] Scott, almost dismissively: Yeah, it worked last time Jimmy, after Scott hands him a flower: You are not forgiven Scott, having already walked away and not even looking at him: Thank you Jimmy for forgiving me!!

is just such a painfully accurate mirror of how I see their characters' roleplay in general. Like!!!! I just have to talk about it, sorry. I'm obsessed.

---

This is about the Jimmy & Scott dynamic. Not using their duo name so it doesn't show up in tags.

This is about characters, not real people; my personal interpretation of their dynamic. I'm very aware IRL Jimmy lets people mock him for silly dynamics and that everyone is friends.

Disclaimer, I haven't watched their 3rd Life POVs start to end since late 2022, I think? I may have some details wrong.

---

To me, Character Scott exists in this void where he can do and say whatever he wants to Character Jimmy, including ripping him and his skills apart both in front of people and behind his back (Ex: Dogwarts banner burning / bringing up Jimmy's failure with their allies in front of Jimmy and mocking him).

Scott does this several times in 3rd Life. He calls Jimmy his husband, but doesn't seem to respect him... I really want to comb back through 3rd Life sometimes because I remember him calling Jimmy's house ugly and creating a wall so he doesn't have to look at it.

Anyway, he mocks Jimmy's skills and decision-making in regards to all 3 of his husband's deaths, I'm pretty sure (Stuff like "I told you not to step on it! Why would you step on it? I told you you have to shoot it!" and the lava game and the red desert battle).

Iirc, two of his mockeries happen while he's standing over Jimmy's Minecraft corpse, sdklfj. This is not a man who is in mourning. I saw a post once that said 3rd Life Scott is like a widow who exaggerates her emotional displays so she can wear pretty mourning clothes and honestly. yeah. [Paraphrasing]

Found the post

He can be controlling and demanding (i.e. not letting Jimmy make his own decisions about their cows and very publicly arguing / belittling him / interrupting him when Jimmy comes home, all while several other people watch... Sir. Sir, I want to pick you up and shake you.)

It is not for no reason this man's nickname is Gatekeep. And he wears it proudly. aaah.

And the thing is!!! Character Scott lives in a world where he can just say stuff to Jimmy and Jimmy's not going to do anything about it. Yeah, he'll steal Jimmy's goats. He'll ignore Jimmy's goat horn call for a laugh. He'll capitalize on Jimmy's ranch dreams and try to crush him out of existence, laughing at him for having no goats (because he stole the goats). He apologizes to Tango for not replying to the goat horn, but not to Jimmy. He has no shame in playing the bit. That is his friend and he's going to torment him. lol.

He straight-up gaslights (Hilariously, without lying) when he's accused of killing Jimmy's goats. His word choice is so careful when he says things like "I will say, the entire time I could have seen [Cleo and Martyn], they were standing outside the ranch" and not admitting he dug underground and smuggled the goats out.

Character Scott is so fey-coded to me... He is trying to play. He's like a puppy that hasn't learned to control bite strength because he just keeps biting Jimmy and Jimmy doesn't get upset, so Scott is just playing in his POV but. mm. the outside looking in (me) is just. mm.

I can't stop writing 'fics where Scott is oblivious to how harsh he is. In his mind, it's play and he doesn't realize how far it's going- he just keeps escalating. I could talk forever about how Scott's version of 3rd Life heaven was living with Jimmy, but everything was prettier, and Jimmy came up to greet him because he missed him. Scott........ Scott, I just wanna talk.......

And then he seems puzzled when Jimmy doesn't flock to him. I feel like the Limited Life scene is a well-known one in the community: Scott says "I love you" to Jimmy and tries to get Jimmy to "say it back."

Jimmy chooses not to, standing his ground and seemingly implies that he will not express kindness to Scott in exchange for reward (Life), even though Scott's teasing and trying to coax him to because "uwu, don't you love your adorable husband? You would never hurt me."

smh... Character Scott, did you forget that in Limited Life, you've given Jimmy no reason to fawn over you? Why would he say he loves you? You can't just walk up to him and expect that, you silly man.

Shepscapades drew a gorgeous comic about this exact thing. The oblivious, smiling look Scott gives with his tilted head is just. my everything

Like!!! Scott, I don't know how to tell you this, but your actions have consequences and Jimmy isn't coming back. Scott is a satellite who revolves around him, feeling positive feelings towards Jimmy and expecting that Jimmy returns them..... ah.

In my mind he revolves around Pearl in a similar way (Ex: throwing her out without giving her a chance to explain herself when she came back in Double Life- I'm not judging whether it was the right or wrong choice because live your dreams, block dude, but... he really just made his own decisions about how that roleplay was gonna go down, disregarding their past nice times. One false step and Pearl hit the chopping block with no prior communication <3)

And he will just not let go of them. He is my clingy allay hybrid and I think he's fun. Augh. They are so toxic in my mind /positive; boy, that guy sure has multiple facets and a three-dimensional characterization

It's one of the reasons he vibes so well with Cleo... It's a relationship built on gaslighting and gatekeeping. They do not take each other too seriously. And he's considerably less snippy with her, especially in Double Life where he plays the role of fawning over her, and just. man.

Allay hybrid who finds someone to circle, but also can't let go of anyone. He will swap around with no ill intent or sadness, interchanging, picking up where he left off... (To me)

Anyway, this is why in Dog's Life, Jimmy cut ties with all his romantic relationships and is spending time by himself- He's quietly working through all the things Scott and others have said to him while he's vulnerable in a relationship, but he'd never tell him or anyone else this unless he had to. He puts those feelings aside so he can do co-worker things... but he needs time alone.

Even in his POVs, he doesn't explain that to the reader. It's not the reader's business. He's taking time for himself and he's not going to talk about it. He will not demonize his friends... He struggles to even say anything negative about his friends. He doesn't want to look like he's upset even on accident.

There's an upcoming scene where Scott's very overwhelmed and has basically come crashing down, practically begging Jimmy to explain why he dumped him (in this 'fic universe). Jimmy caves and explains a little about why he didn't feel they work, but doesn't go into detail. Even with the simplified explanation, Scott is just... mind-boggled and offended. He was just playing!!

Scott. You NEED to grow as a person. Aaaaaaaah. I want them to have their arc where Jimmy has handled everything as quietly, privately, and gracefully as he could and meanwhile Scott is unraveling everything he knows about himself and starting to look at himself from outside eyes.

All this to say... I liked that moment in Scott's Real Life POV. Jimmy hesitating. Scott being like "Well, last time you excused/forgave all my behavior.

Jimmy digging in his heels... "You are not forgiven."

Scott, walking off... "Thank you for forgiving me!!!"

Aaaugh. I'm gonna be sick about them. It's such a cycle of Jimmy pulling away and Scott oblivious... It is so important to me... and yes I did spend like 2 hours on this post just thinking about this 3-second exchange in the April Fools episode and now it is so late at night... do u understand, though? Them <3

Closing Disclaimers - This is a personal observation about their characterizations because I draw on these moments a lot in my fanfics.

Please don't reblog this post out of anger- I am aware they are a popular ship and that my view is not a popular interpretation, but I like them this way. I like dropping the characters in situations where they need to face who they are. I get excited when I see crumbs connected to my interpretation show up in the canon and I wanted to talk about how something I saw fit my interpretation.

I have absolutely 0 problem with others liking this ship. Heck, I've read some awesome fics of them! I did my best to tag and warn appropriately (and not use their ship name so it won't be in tags). I don't normally talk about them, but I'll use the #flower exes tag in the future when it comes up.

Please don't leave mean comments in the replies, send Anon hate, etc. You don't have to agree, so just block and move on if you're uncomfortable. It's never my intention to bash- I just want to convey the joy I feel when I see a portrayal I like. Thanks! <3

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟸 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

we're not broken.

it's all about slim chances now.

he was trying so hard to be reasonable, but that pushed my buttons even more.

i wish i had something better to say, something more profound.

you chose suicide!

your dad saved my life today.

if i hadn't done what i did, you'd be dead now.

i don't deserve your mercy.

you're a joke is what you are.

that's why i need you.

you think that's the kind of man i am?

this new world is ugly. it's harsh. it's survival of the fittest.

i'm keeping this group together.

you don't know what we've had to go through out there.

i'm down to my last.

i'll control my people, you control yours.

you're nothing but a freak to them.

it's a waste of time all this hoping and praying.

he was a loveless, violent drunk and no good to anybody.

we need to start treating him like an adult.

i can't go back.

why are we running? what are we doing?

if you believe anything, believe that.

are you putting them away?

isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with me?

this isn't a democracy anymore.

i don't think you can keep them safe.

they're gonna kill all of us.

when i've had a chance to think about it.

he knew things about us, the truth, who we really are.

we're gonna prove him wrong.

i need a night to think it through.

if i'm the kind of man that would gun down his own best friend, what'd you think i do to some guy i don't even like when he starts throwing accusations my way.

dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head.

you're putting me on the spot.

i couldn't always read him, but he could read us.

i wasn't hurting anyone else.

heaven is just another lie, and if you believe it, you're an idiot.

is that what you want?

you're pretty much dead already.

stop acting like you know the way ahead, like you know the rules.

you got a hell of an infection there.

we've all seen it one time or another.

that's great. now they've got you doubting yourself, huh?

i don't think you can do it.

waste of an arrow.

i killed him.

the right choice is the one that keeps us alive.

i thought we were changing the subject.

no one is going anywhere.

her being out here is my fault.

please. let's just do what's right.

everyone either avoids me or they treat me like i'm crazy.

i would have done that too.

call that payback for laughing about my itchy ass.

i don't believe it.

maybe you people are better off without me.

my hands are clean.

i guess i'm losing hope that you can hear me.

you're just gonna kill him?

a lot of them just disappeared.

if y'all wanna live, if y'all wanna survive, you gotta fight for it!

she's in a better place.

could a living, breathing person, could they walk away from this?

i knew what he was doing, what he was up to.

i know exactly where i am.

you want him? go fetch him yourself.

oh, don't start that shit.

let her be safe, alive and safe.

i'm gonna advise you to keep that theory to yourself.

she's so young in her way.

i wasn't there.

maybe this isn't a world for children anymore.

nah, i can shoot. just don't like to.

that life won't be worth a damn.

you missed all that gun training.

i wish you could have the childhood i had, but that's not gonna happen.

i can't profess to understand god's plan.

he pushed me, and i let him.

there are no rules, man. we're lost.

that's a world i don't wanna live in.

don't be too hard on yourself.

is there something wrong with me?

you don't have anything to prove.

it's always the same with you.

not now. just not now!

you see 11 condoms, i see 11 minutes of my life i'm not getting back.

people are gonna die.

i prayed you'd put a stop to it.

my father didn't bother with comforting lies, he used his fist.

the pain doesn't go away, you just make room for it.

i'm not your wife.

maybe i'm fooling myself again.

the world we know is gone.

you knew this whole time?

i didn't lose my mind!

you killed a person.

it could've come in handy now.

your veins are very discolored.

they're laughing at you behind your back.

i was just trying to keep everybody safe.

this guy's tail lights zig zagging all over the road.

you got no idea what i can live with!

shoot me again? you best pray i'm dead.

you could die from blood poisoning.

i guess i haven't quite got that last part down.

let's see how far you get.

if you saw how it is out there, you wouldn't ask.

it ain't like it was before!

please, don't let this be my punishment.

you think god exists?

people in hell want slurpees.

some men do not earn the love of their sons.

why is it still coming?!

what's going on with you?

if i had known the world was ending, i would have brought better books.

it's my call, man.

the other geeks came and ate all the flesh off his legs.

he said this group was broken.

my father was good like that.

i try not to mix it up with the almighty anymore.

the world that we knew is dead.

i didn't ask for this!

would it have made a difference?

we're going back.

how could i have known for sure?

well maybe we oughta just think that through.

i'm not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through.

i do the christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!

no more kid stuff.

he saw people for who they were.

why don't you go out and find out yourself.

it ain't hard, man.

i wanted him dead.

i want a gun.

that kind of honesty is rare and brave.

i'll have sex with you.

you can't just be the good guy and expect to live.

i ain't nobody's bitch.

i don't know what to say.

this isn't about what we believe anymore.

there's always that chance isn't there?

i think you oughta show some gratitude.

you want to kill me, you're going to have to do better than that wrench.

are you trying to buy my silence with fruit?

i know what kind of man you are.

i'm sorry.

you need to reconsider.

i bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself.

keeping our humanity? that's a choice.

i was not at his deathbed.

he gave me no choice!

she hasn't had a chance.

and you never said anything?

i'm not the good guy anymore.

what you know about what i can live with?

christ promised a resurrection of the dead, i just assumed he had something a little different in mind.

i say there's a place for us, but maybe it's just another pipe dream.

there is nothing easy about taking a man's life no matter how little value it may have.

don't let him kill me.

you act like you don't care.

i just wanted it over.

these things ain't sick!

you don't know shit anymore.

best we can do now is avoid it as long we can, keep one step ahead.

let me ask you something.

i lost my daughter.

you took my choice away, and you expect gratitude?

he was my friend, but he came after me.

that is not your call.

from now on, we're gonna do it his way.

there is no cure.

there is no hope for any of us.

feels like there's a lot of that going around.

we tried to kill each other, man.

we need to move, now.

ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me.

send me a postcard!

i've been doing that all along, no matter what.

you did this to us!

you saw how he was like.

oh, man. wouldn't that be the way?

go on, there's the door.

your bitch went window shopping.

you're completely in over your head aren't you?

you're gonna kill me in cold blood?

whatever it is, we all carry it.

punish me however you want, but show mercy on her.

get up on your feet, before i'm gonna have to kick your teeth in.

i am sure as hell not your problem.

you've been vague about that night, about what happened.

i'm not your little girl.

i know you. you won't be able to live with this.

there's no way you can ever be ready for it.

what are you, 70?

look at him. hanging up there like a big piñata.

it's a wonder you people have survived this long.

you're a man of god, have some faith.

we're all infected.

you got a girlfriend i don't know about?

they're not people! they're dead!

you people are like a plague!

[see-arcane]

I think the thing that bothers me more than Dracula media killing off/sidelining Harker is the "Since he's so bland in canon, let's make him a cheater to give him some spice. (And because we can't think of other ways to create drama between couples.)" Like. You might be projecting here my dudes, but this man is physically incapable of cheating.

And if you want to make him flawed, he actually has flaws in canon, go focus on those instead of inventing OOC ones like being a cheater. (Even if it's a sequel and they've learned their lesson to always communicate, there are other flaws that aren't infidelity. Like maybe his xenophobia toward eastern Europeans won't affect his relationship, but his recklessness and single-mindedness could.) (Also they could have conflicts that have little to do with personal flaws or sex, damn!)

See, all of this is making the assumption that these people are actually reading and comprehending the material. Or reading it at all, rather than doing a Wiki skim of Francis' Gary Oldman fanfic film.

But yeah, highlighting his actual flaws as a character would be an interesting change!*

*I have said it 1000 times, but I'll say it again: Jonathan and Mina's clinging to physiognomy and/or outright xenophobia feels so SO ripe for examination as two people in an Othered demographic hiding behind the expected norms (putting down other Othered groups) as a defense mechanism. They both came up poor, Mina's an Irish immigrant and orphaned girl, and Jonathan's quick leap to a kukri as his weapon easily drops a hint of potential Very Not-Anglo heritage.

My main theory for why Jonathan specifically clings to physiognomy and selective ugly attitudes to Dracula's choice of cohorts (leaving aside the direct Bram influence of him only having his info secondhand from biased guides) is that, growing up, Jonathan maybe got treated to some fun racial remarks from some prick classmates. But, being that he's Jonathan, he still draws friends like flies--said friends coming to his defense with the 'science' of physiognomy. They point out that, sure, he's not white, but just look at his face. He's got good bones.

Read: He was attractive enough by everyone's standards that he 'passed' the bullshit pseudoscience test. And Jonathan clung to that as one of few small shoddy shields he had as a lower class, also parent-less (or at least fatherless) boy trying to claw up the rickety social ladder. Same goes for Mina, whose whole character--from the New Woman put-downs to her own unfortunate belief in Lombroso--screams Dutiful Orphan Who Must Be Good and Useful and Not Like [INSERT ICKY BAD GROUP HERE].

It would make sense for them both. It wouldn't be an excuse, but it would be a reason. And, in light of all the very sudden, very harsh, very world-shaking thresholds they were forced to cross in the wake of Dracula's mess, I'm betting this is a good foundation for both Harkers to start growing past these old biases.

There's definitely a wide open door to start with--learning new languages, cultures, and beliefs from the so-called 'Old World.' Because hey, those superstitions have proven themselves pretty fucking real and it was only by the locals' warning, aid, and charity that Jonathan made it out unbitten and with his mind intact. And it was their exact same aids that Van Helsing employed, bar the wafer crumbs.

There is SO MUCH POTENTIAL here for the Harkers--and, we can assume, the Suitors and Benignly Misogynistic 'Hooray for Man's Brain' Van Helsing--to evolve under the right adaptation or sequel.

But I'm not holding my breath.

[zorkaya-moved]

“ what’s going on in that head of yours? ” from kaveh !

@avaere

By basking in the Heavenly light and warmth provided by Kaveh, Zarina forgot just how fun it was to watch someone of seemingly higher statue to have that subtle glimpse of gleam turning into submission in their eyes. The mind of hers circles around cruelty, malice, and intrigue that not many would wish to ever dive into. Abyss would look back at her and shudder, meeting the eyes of gold that lacked any compassion for anything and anyone who wasn't chosen. It's why the party today was such a blast to her, internally, even if they left early. The drama unfolding from several strings pulled previously, exploding into a gorgeous spectacle exposing the betrayal, the agony, and the fiery tempers. Humans nature can be so intriguing, everyone who was believed to be a saint suddenly was exposed with harsh truths of reality.

The confrontation between two older lovers, driven to confront each other in public because they received news. They doubted each other and hired informants, wishing to expose each other only to learn far crueler games they both played behind each other's backs. They were pathetic, pathetic but entertaining and she had to hold back laughter while witnessing them turn to her when Kaveh stepped away to get them drinks. All of the attention was on them both and Sokolova had to adopt a troubled expression, pretending to be someone who was not involved in the exposure at all (they didn't know, no one knew, she was simply aware and waited). Oh, the way they screamed at each other and exposed their deepest sins, baring their ugly sides in a way that was more entertaining than not. Naturally, she dealt with a situation carefully, leading them both to take it to their private headquarters before alleviating the tension at the party, apologizing on their behalf and receiving gratitude from the host of the party.

Now, as both of them were back, leaving earlier than expected, Zarina was humming while sitting in front of her vanity. It didn't seem that Kaveh enjoyed such showcases, but she understands. Not many would take sick satisfaction in seeing something like that without knowing the intricacies behind said explosive show. but it wasn't a show for those who cared, who was more empathetic, who remained with a heart instead of a glacier for soul.

So when Kaveh asks what's going on through her head, Sokolova begins to undo her brain. As she closes her eyes to hide away the darker gleam in them, her smile widens ever so lightly.

"I enjoyed the party. The food was great, the music was wonderful, and the show was fantastic," the magic show, huh. "Though, it's sad that it was interrupted." By the screams or the resolution? "But we got to dance and it made me happy."

Fingers finally let her hair fall free on her back, feeling relief in her scalp from the accessories takes out and braids undone. Her hair seems fluffier than usual, creating silver waves. But her eyes are now open, glancing at Kaveh through the reflection in the mirror. If he knew what was going on through ehr head, he would've been upset. Or so she thinks based on his personality and what she's seen, heard, and felt. He could've caught a glance of light in her eyes if he looked at her when the argument was unleashed in public, but she acted surprised and shocked just as much because a good actor will never break their character.

However, she lets Kaveh hear some of her more... honest words next. She turns around so her back faces the mirror and her front faces the architect, hands resting on the the pillowy surface of her seat.

"But I'm more annoyed at the fact that they had to come to me," Zarina sighs, looking to the side while thinking over the incident. "Those people used to call me a nuisance, but now they sought me out to help them." She doesn't hold back a snort from escaping, not right now when a bitter taste coats her tongue and her lips curl into a similarly bitter smirk. "Human nature is ever-changing, malleable even when you give them what they want. There aren't many people like you, Kaveh."

Now, she pushes against the soft surface to get up and look at Kaveh, stepping closer. She takes her rightful place next to him, standing between his legs and looking at him sitting on the bed. Her hands gently take out his own hair accessories, gently and carefully while studying his expression. Hers now lacks the usual bitterness, but showcases a subtle hollowness while she continues to talk about the aftermath.

"It reminded me of how some people treat you," her thumb slides across his cheek, caressing gently. Eyes of gold stare into the maroon, wishing to catch every gleam and every light and every shadow in those beautiful eyes of his. It makes her happy when his hands find their place on her waist, the warmth radiating from his touch slowly erases the darker void and replaces it with a gentler softness. "There are so many people who probably took advantage of your warmth, your kindness, and your heart. Those two reminded me of how cruel the world outside is, how easily people change in the worst ways."

How that cold, cruel world exists to ruin such priceless souls like him. Oh, how she wishes to find the one who broke him so roughly. Can she make her life a living nightmare and then watch her come undone with time, wondering if she'd crawl back or stubbornly erases her own existence. Ah, no, she shouldn't think of that when Kaveh is right here. The way he worriedly calls her name makes her snap out of that thoughtful moment.

"Ah, yes, sorry," she absent-mindedly states, shaking her head to seemingly get rid off those thoughts for a moment. It's - sadly - another play, she can easily repress those thoughts but doesn't exactly want to when she sees the worry in Kaveh's eyes but remembers the pain on his face from weeks ago. "I guess, maybe the party wasn't that great."

No, she loved it. The only thing she didn't like was the concern on Kaveh's face... No, she's lying about that as well. The concern and worry on his face was also something she enjoyed at that moment. Because he held her hand, he asked how she was feeling, and he proposed to leave early since it should've been exhausting to deal with. It makes her almost want to hold him closer, to not let him go, to keep him all to herself so no one can make hurt him. But he is an adult, he's smart and he's capable, he's intelligent and skilled. Those are only her dark desire she won't turn into reality, because she values his happiness and his autonomy. His independence is essential and his life should be lived as he wishes, not as she desires. After all, she loves him. She loves him but does not possess him; he is his own person and she fell in love with Kaveh, with someone who shined the brightest when he did what he loved and what he was passionate about.

Before the architect can ask her another question, she suddenly cups his face and...

"Smoosh," she squishes his face a bit before letting go. "I'm alright. I'm more worried about how you are. It must've been a pretty nasty sight. It's the first time we ever witnessed such a... large scandal." A scandal she was secretly a part of.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hi Dani!!! Sorry to bother you but I want advice. A few days ago I've finished cot and went on Tumblr to check for posts to reblog and saw a lot of critical posts on the book (it wasn't a masterpiece but I still liked it a lot!) and on my favorite characters. This made me sad and I know we can't all have the same opinions, but how can I deal with that? I've had trouble sleeping because I wake up at night thinking about those posts and my brain won't shut up about it. I want to say something to that hate but I don't think it's the right way to go. Do you have any advice on how to deal with fandom negativity? 🥹

Hello!

I'm so glad you enjoyed chain of thorns - and I hope you felt satisfied with all the storylines (I'm still reading so I don't know!!).

The thing with dealing with fandom negativity is that it's not one person's responsibility. For example, everyone is of course entitled to their opinion. But if we are posting hateful content or harsh criticism about a character, it's always good to use 'anti character name' tags so people who like that character won't be hurt by it. It's better not to say anything awful at all. But these are not really realistic in our fandom and not many follow them anyway.

There is not a lot that you can do about negativity, other than ignore it. But I know that's easier said than done. Although remember that there is nothing wrong with saying something back or calling someone out or even engaging in a conversation if you disagree with them. But this is a very personal decision because we know these things can get ugly.

Something I personally do is that I don't actually go through the tags because the tags don't really filter the negative content and you end up seeing all sorts of things that can ruin your experience. Instead, I follow a few blogs that I like that create or reblog a lot of content from that fandom or about that character. This is so much safer and healthier.

So, what I'd recommend for you to do is identify blogs that post a lot of chain of thorns/the last hours related content (either through reblogs or their own content) this way you can access new content without having to go through the hateful stuff.

I'm happy to help you identify some of these blogs (maybe we can do a call out and ask people to tag themselves?) if it helps you find tlh/chot blogs to follow!

It would also be good for you to look at tags such as 'chain of thorns art' or 'chain of thorns edits' or whatever you are specifically looking for, (instead of looking at the general cot tag) because then you will get more filtered content.

In essence, it's very difficult to avoid negative content in a fandom. The best way to go is to follow and support and engage with many positive blogs as possible because they help you drown out the negative stuff.

I hope this helps and I hope you feel better soon.

These characters are very lucky to have someone like you who cares about them so much. Remember that x

[falseandrealultravival]

The Seven Theorems of Lao Tzu(老子): Essay

Lao Tzu  by Ryu Fujisaki(藤崎　竜)

I have been familiar with Lao Tzu(老子) for many years, and I feel that I have come into contact with some truths. I will organize and describe them here. It's like a mathematics theorem, so it's called the Mathematician Lao Tzu's 7 Theorem.

Mathematician Lao Tzu's 7 Theorems:

Centrality theorem

Undefeated theorem

Indifference theorem

Postcard theorem

Never abandon theorem

Water goes down theorem

New wood theorem

1) is the theorem that when the pendulum moves, it always passes through the center point. By the time "beautiful" turns into "ugly", it always passes through a point that is neither. In fact, there is an "intermediate value theorem" in mathematics.

According to "Lao Tzu" (Tamaki Ogawa, Translated by Chuko Bunko), this theorem is described in Chapters 2, 9, 12, and 16. This kind of perspective is close to "I Ching"(易経). You can recall the cycle of "the moon that is missing when it is full". It is a circle of yin and yang(陰と陽).

2) Chapter 36 of Lao Tzu. It is a chapter that preaches undefeated war. For example, if there is an enemy who punches out, this is my chance (when the attack reaches its climax) when the punch is fully extended. Even if you don't win, you won't lose. This is also based on the same thing as "the moon that is missing when it is full".

3) Lao Tzu Chapter 5. It is the theorem that both heaven and earth are completely indifferent to human beings, and that there is a harsh reality for those who seek "love" in heaven and earth.

4) In Lao Tzu Chapter 1, it is written that "the way of the road is not the usual way", but behind that, there is also a reading that "the way of the way should be the usual way". It's possible, and it must be. It is in this world that "A and not A" is established. This theorem has many parts that overlap with the centrality theorem of 1).

5) It is said that what is abandoned due to lack of one purpose has its own value, and there is nothing to throw away. Chapter 23, Chapter 27, etc. Originally, the letter "Toku" (徳)was written another way, and the letter go with an honest heart" is used. There was a horizontal bar in it. Picking up something while going with an honest heart ... This is a good thing. Profit leads to virtue：Do Toku(得する),得and徳,both have the same pronunciation. and the sameMeaning.

6) Lao Tzu Chapter 8. Water likes to fall under everyone's contempt and gives happiness to everyone. It is the strongest person in the world and is close to "Michi(道/TAO): The keyword of Lao Tzu". Think of the water as having the strong will to descend, rather than the water descending because of gravity.

7) Lao Tzu Chapter 28. Lao Tzu teaches that 樸 (simple existence) is a new tree that is not used by anyone soon after it is cut out.　Lao Tzu says this is more precious than anything else.