#how many times do i need to put it in the tags?

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2??

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[chuuyascumsock]

Bury Beneath this Filth they Call Skin and Turn it into a Garden || MINORS DNI

Summary: I made a hurt/comfort fic for Chuuya, I might as well make a comfort fic for Dazai too cause he’s my soft spot.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, GN reader, Angst, Comfort, No One Is Safe, Mentions Of Self Sabotaging, Self-deprecating Thoughts, Mentions Of Dehumanization, Mentions Of Suicide Attempt, Dazai Highkey Has Bad Hygiene Because I Know He Canonically Reeks Of Liquid Ass (I Still Love Him But Honey—), Brief Description Of Self Harm Scars, He Takes Off His Bandages, Non-Sexual Nudity For A Bit.

Dazai doesn’t remember when you started to keep an extra pair of clothes in your bottom drawer just for him.

He doesn’t remember when you bought an extra toothbrush for him either, the item sitting in a small cup on your bathroom counter so intimately close to yours. He doesn’t remember when you started to stock your cabinets with canned crab or an occasional snack he had stolen from you before and said it tasted good. He doesn’t remember when you began preparing meals big enough for two. And he doesn’t remember when you started to look at him the way you do.

Those eyes that so fondly trace over every inch of his frame like he’s capable of being loved— like he’s not a silver-tongued beast of a man, his words filled with more teeth than his bite ever could. He doesn’t deserve it— he knows he doesn’t— so why does he find himself at your doorstep every time he fails his attempts in ending his miserable existence?

“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” You sigh out, stripping away Dazai’s soaked clothes until he’s shivering in his sopping wet bandages and boxers. “And you smell horrible every time…” Your nose slightly scrunches at the lingering smell of hydrogen sulfide and mucky water from the Yokohama canal.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? That’s just my natural musk,” Dazai gives a lopsided grin, attempting to lighten the mood. His grin falls into an uneasy look when he notices the brief side eye you give him as you toss his clothes into the washer.

“My water bills spike every month you do this, you know,” You point out blamelessly.

“Sorry,” Dazai mumbles with a weak smile. He always made a promise to try his hardest not to inconvenience anyone while making his attempts— making it up to those who he had done so with such as Atsushi. But he’s burdened you countless times, not realizing until now. Before he mentally promises himself to never return to you like a pathetic, mangy stray dog— you come into his view again.

“Don’t be sorry, but please come to me when you feel the urge to do these things, ‘Samu. I worry about you.” And Dazai can’t help but to immediately let his previous thoughts fly away. Who was he kidding? He’d never be able to stay away from you.

Your hands carefully reach to begin unwrapping the bandages sliding off Dazai’s body. Flinching, Dazai subconsciously moves a hand to stop you from taking his bandages off. There’s a momentary standstill between both of your movements as you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze before his hand relaxes and falls to his side. It’s not the first time this has happened, but Dazai doesn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of having his protective cloth shed to reveal the myriad of scars that are engraved on this once blank canvas that humans call skin.

And when all is removed, you still look at him as you always had with an unwavering fondness that leaves him subconsciously leaning into you, yearning to be swallowed and drowned in your gentle affections. He doesn’t understand why you do the things that you do, such as loving him no matter how many times he tells you how much he doesn’t need you because it’s always been like that— lonely— or why you even put up with any of his shit for that matter. But you do. And he thinks he’ll never know why, because he’s terrible and doesn’t deserve what you do in return to his horrid behavior.

He slips into the tub without needing guidance, face tilting up to look at you without his usual charming grin, expression replaced with a quiet pleading, begging for any sliver of attention you can offer. And you give into his pleads, sitting by the tub while running a hand through his dark tangled hair before reaching for a washcloth to bathe him. There’s a lack of cheeky comments and flirting from Dazai as you rinse away the grime sticking to his tainted skin, his eyes flickering from distant to focused in a matter of minutes before glancing back over to you and melting further into your reverent touch.

Even after exiting the tub, he says nothing, allowing you to wrap a towel around his shoulders and place a tender kiss to his forehead. If this had been any other day, he would’ve teased you to no end about how you had to stand on your toes just to reach his face, but he merely softly smiles in mild amusement and lets you lead him into your room to get dressed.

He wears the extra pair of clothes you keep for him at the bottom of your drawer, shirt loosely hanging off his shoulders and pajama pants dragging along the floor each time he takes a step forward to follow you to your bed. He was used to sleeping on his futon, but he much preferred your bed and the comfort your body brought when he tangled his limbs in yours.

You don’t scold him either when he buries his face into your neck like you used to the first few times he had done so— complaining about his hot breath on your neck. Now, you reach a hand back to scratch your fingers through his damp hair in an affectionate manner, sighing out softly in what he can tell is contentment.

Even as Dazai drifts off, he can’t help but think about the irony of hating dogs as much as he does, yet he can’t help but love you like one.

[storiesfromafan]

Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

[inkchwe]

high & dry | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

➸ First story in the @hogwartsaltior universe! ୨୧ pairing: chwe (vernon) hansol x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.5k ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ tags: hogwartsaltior!au, dj!vernon, gardener!reader ୨୧ synopsis: Vernon is good with his words behind a microphone and with hundreds of students listening to him. Why is it so hard to talk to one girl in the gardening club?

“Thank you for listening to Chwe’s Power Hour sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. Have a good day and night folks.” Vernon puts the headphones down on his makeshift desk, surrounded by studio equipment and paperwork that he always neglects to turn in on time. His homework also sits unfinished in his backpack, but he’ll worry about that later. His focus is on looking over the stats for his latest stream.

Dokyeom, Vernon’s roommate and fellow Gryffindor, gives him a thumbs up as he scours the laptop screen in front of him for the numbers Vernon’s after. “Best show so far man.”

“But do the views say that?” Vernon looks over Dokyeom’s shoulder, anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

“Read it and weep, kid.” To his surprise, his best friend is actually right for once. Almost two hundred students listening in, both on and off campus. The outreach Vernon’s radio show has gotten so far is something to be incredibly proud of, but he wants more. Maybe if he can prove music is not a waste of time, his parents may take him more seriously when he talks about switching majors.

“Holy shit,” Vernon says out loud, smiling at the evidence.

“I know.” Dokyeom closes his laptop and begins getting his stuff together. “Listen, I gotta head to Combat Training, but we’ll go over the next show tonight.”

They exchange handshakes as Dokyeom exits the tiny office space the university gave them as a studio, leaving Vernon alone with his thoughts to ponder during what remains of his lunchtime.

Astrology isn’t the worst degree in the world, not by a long shot. He likes to learn about the constellations, the stars, how the planets moved in tandem with one another in a symbiotic pattern. And sure, being in one of the longest educational tracks seemed daunting, according to his friends, but it’s interesting to look up at the sky and know there’s a system up there that needs to be understood and appreciated like everything else.

But does he love it? After a year of studying, that remains to be seen.

What he does love, though, is his Power Hour.

It gives him a zest to his daily routine that didn’t exist before. His schedule had just been friends, Quidditch, and studying. It was fine at first, but being without something that truly drove him to do more, be more, had become taxing after a while.

Walking out of the building, he decides to go home and eat lunch in the comfort of his bed before his next class, Star Charts.

Vernon loves to take note of the greenery as he passes the gardens towards the student quarters. But he knows it’s deadly to step foot near the many plants and flowers, not just because of his allergies. He doesn’t want to smell like a joint if he steps in the wrong spot thanks to Josh and Jeonghan’s extracurricular activities in the horticulture club.

What does make him stop today, however, isn’t just the plants. It’s mostly the girl plucking weeds from the ground at the entrance of the courtyard, stealing his breath in a way pollen never could.

Face caked in soot and a messy bun at the top of your head, you know a steamy shower is in your plans as soon as classes are over. You loosened the yellow tie around your neck hours ago to focus on the gardening work in front of you, but it turns out to be a bad decision due to it flopping around in the wind. If only the last root could give…

You look up to see a guy facing your direction, mouth lightly agape and seemingly looking directly at your spot on the ground. Was something or someone behind you that you failed to notice? You turn your head to look over your shoulder, finding nobody down the path or coming out of the greenhouse you were in prior to your work outside.

You look back in the guy’s direction, but he’s gone. He’s speed-walking up the path to the student quarters when you do catch the image of him, his back quickly going out of sight.

Shrugging, you go back to the stubborn weed that has taken up too much of your time. Maybe you’ll cut it at the base and call it a day.

Vernon scribbles the score of the student’s assignment on the front of the paper, relieved it’s the last in the stack. TA duties have been completed to fruition, possibly for the first time in weeks. He wishes him and Wonwoo got to switch TA positions, but Vernon’s aware that it breaks all kinds of moral codes for a TA to also be a student of the very professor they’re assisting.

At least Vernon gets to see the architecture of the Law building for reference in his drawings. He didn’t have any painting classes yet, but the more he could practice now, the better. If he was to ever become as good as his mother, anyway.

The tall doors of Professor Sung’s class open, and Vernon almost can’t believe his eyes.

It’s you. You’re not covered in dirt but still entirely breathtaking, holding a large potted plant in your hands. As you walk closer, careful not to bump into the desks on your way towards him, he is unsure what to say for the first time to capture your interest.

You smile and set the pot down on Professor Sung’s desk. Both of you speak at the same time, words blended on top of each other’s.

“Sorry to bother-“

“I’m allergic to pollen.”

Your face morphs into confusion, but you laugh all the same. Vernon wants to immediately crawl into a hole. Why in all things magical did he just let those words come out of his mouth? 

“Okay, noted.” You point to the plant. “This is for Professor Sung. It’s asphodel. No pollen, I promise.” You look over the graded papers on the desk. “You must be his TA.”

Vernon nods immediately and stops, feeling ridiculous again for being so eager and forthcoming with information. What was wrong with him? You were just a girl. A beautiful, cute, hardworking, breathtaking girl, but still a girl!

Your mouth goes slack in recognition, eyes suddenly widening. “I remember you now! You were outside of the student grounds the other day.”

Vernon laughs nervously. He puts the papers in front of him into a neat pile, trying to stifle his panic. All he remembers from that day is you and trying to run from the fact you caught him staring. The cringe he feels is excruciating. “Yeah. I like to look at the plants on my way to my room. You guys have done a great job with the…selection.”

You laugh again and bite your lip. “Yeah, it’s mostly me and Jeonghan. You probably know him.”

He nods again. “We practice together on the Quidditch field. Well, us and my roommate Seokmin.”

“I know Seokmin! And forgive me, I forgot to ask your name.” You hold your hand out politely and give him your name in turn.

How can a person be so gorgeous and nice? Vernon thinks maybe it has to do with your Hufflepuff placement, but he has a feeling the evidence lies in your personality. One he wants to get to know now as soon as possible.

“Hansol,” he replies after placing his palm in yours, your soft skin making him weak in the knees. “Most people know me as Vernon or DJ Chwe or Chwe but y’know—what I’m saying is, my name is Hansol.”

You smirk. “Nice to meet you, Hansol.”

You play on Vernon’s mind in a loop. The feeling mimics the visual graphic Dino made for Vernon’s radio station icon, the turning CD adorned with the words “CPH.”

“Alright, listeners, I hope that music mix brightened your day and leaves you in anticipation for the next one. My name is Hansol Vernon Chwe. Thank you for another installment of Chwe’s Power Hour, once again sponsored as always by Hogwarts Altior. And you have a good day and night. Peace!”

Dokyeom and Vernon take their. headphones off at the same time, Vernon’s best friend blowing out a breath. “At this rate, man, you’re going to be turning discs all over the world.”

Vernon chuckles. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, bro.”

“C’mon! You talk about it all the time. Pull the plug. Chase your dreams.” Dokyeom knocks Vernon in the shoulder with his fists multiple times, turning the younger boy into a heap of laughter. “And, maybe before that, let in the girl you’ve been talking about?”

Dokyeom motions for Vernon to look towards the clear windows of the station. When he does, he finds you there with a smile on your face, an entirely new plant in your hands. It’s smaller than the asphodel you harvested for Professor Sung. The plant, like its pot, is in an assortment of bright colors, mostly teals and greens.

Vernon motions for you to come inside, so you do. You greet Dokyeom before Vernon. “Seokmin and I share a free period, and he told me he helps you with your station stuff.” You smile and put the plant on Vernon’s desk near his headphones. “Don’t worry. No pollen.”

Vernon inspects it with his eyes, unfamiliar with the plant in front of him. His brows narrow in pure curiosity, and you answer the question that sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Muggles call them succulents. They’re really easy to take care of. Just a little sunlight and watering once a week should be enough.” You laugh to yourself and glance around the office space. “Thought the place could use some color.”

“Thank you,” Vernon says. His heart can’t help but be shaken up even more by your presence in his sacred space. He barely knows you, yet he’s so enraptured at your mere existence.

He used to make jokes about his friends when they were down bad for girls, ones that they knew were out of their leagues. Now, he feels like an asshole for doing so. Clearly the workings of the heart are something out of a person’s control.

Vernon isn’t idiotic enough to call it love, but it’s as intense as infatuation can be.

“I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you guys later.” As Dokyeom’s leaving, he raises his arms in the air in a silent chant for Vernon. Thankfully, you don’t notice Vernon’s idiotic best friend and roommate, entirely focused on him.

You stand there, unsure what to do now, but Vernon fills the space with the dumb courage he musters. “I was just on my way to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to join me?” 

He stutters, suddenly trying to play it cool. “I mean, unless you have a meeting or something with the gardeners. In which case, I don’t want to intrude—“

You raise your hand to shut him up, giggling. “I would love to, Han.”

The nickname on your lips makes his heart stop and start again in a millisecond. He could get used to that. Definitely.

On the brink of midnight, Vernon gets a text from Jeonghan.

[YJH]: Got party favors in the greenhouse. U in?

Vernon groans, stuffing his head in the pillow. Should he smoke when he has an early class tomorrow and another Power Hour special? Probably not.

But the second text that pops up makes Vernon sit up straight in his bed.

[YJH]: Your missus is our DD, if that changes your mind ;)

Lunch a few days ago had been a success. You laughed at all of his jokes and even took his hand when he offered to help you up from the picnic table. Although you exchanged numbers at the end of the “date,” he hadn’t found the nerve to text you.

But now, he won’t waste the opportunity to see you.

Vernon puts on his old Quidditch hoodie and a bit of cologne to mask the odor. The next step after he sees you is to do his laundry to avoid smelling as much as possible. Homework sits somewhere in the middle of that plan.

He closes the door to the greenhouse behind him, the smell of the herbs hitting his face immediately. It wasn’t a mystery how Josh continued to supply himself and his friends with…supplements. As the president of the Horticulture club, he can access any specimens at any time. Surely it should been you, your care for plants and flowers not going unnoticed by him and probably your other classmates. Pretty privilege has to apply, for sure. But you’re much prettier than Josh, too, so what the fuck’s up with that?

You smile when you see Vernon enter the greenhouse. Your new friend skates by the stoned, giggly man-children sitting in the lawn chairs and passing their joint around. Hoshi is practically asleep, eyes almost closed and chuckles leaving his lips at the speed of a young schoolgirl. Vernon has the passing thought about how ironic it is all the Slytherins he knows take up their efforts with “gardening” yet probably know only a handful of plants.

“Hey, flower child,” Vernon says, sitting next to you on the workbench.

“Oh, spare me. Is that my nickname now?” You jut out your bottom lip, pouting.

“I think it’s nice. It fits!” Vernon motions with his hands to the surrounding vines and other foliage within the greenhouse. 

You nod in agreement. “Okay, point taken.”

He looks over at the assignment you’re doing, some form of chemistry if he had to guess. “What’re you working on?”

“Lab stuff. If I want to be a herbologist, I have to pass this class,” you say with a groan.

“Wait, you’re telling me there’s actually something you’re not good at?”

You stick your tongue out at him, threatening to poke him with your pencil. “Just wait, you’ll see I have many flaws.”

He knows that can’t be true. To him, even the most minute flaw of yours is impeccable.

“But yeah, just balancing equations and the like. I know astrology is more metaphysical stuff, but—“

“I love chemistry,” Vernon says, standing up and grabbing leaves from random plants between his fingers. Strangely, the more he walks around and steps into your world, the more confident he feels. “Speaking of that, I wanted to ask—“

“Hansol, watch out!”

Little does Vernon realize his back is perfectly positioned in front of an adult sprig of venomous tantacula, the plant ready to spring for the sight of prey. In an instant, Vernon sees your wand appear from your side and ducks out of the way to avoid the impending spell.

“Diffindo!” The venomous tantacula shrivels as soon as its body is separated from the base of the plant. You breathe in a sigh of relief at the fact your friend has not met his demise at the hands of the creature. However, Vernon’s quick dive turned out to be a bad choice. He managed to drop into a large pile of terracota plant pots. Some of them cut up his arms and a small part of his face in the process of his crash landing.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask, bending down to inspect his face. You touch a hand to his cheek, moving his face in your direction. Vernon responds with a gummy smile.

“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix.” Vernon releases a breathless laugh.

“I have a medical kit somewhere around here.”

You run to find it. Vernon’s just dumbfounded and pleased he got so close to you on a technicality. Yes, his face is probably bleeding a good amount, but he knows it’s worth it to see your pillowy lips and doe eyes up close and personal.

When Joshua stumbles up to Vernon on the brick floor of the greenhouse, stoned out of his mind, he laughs like a madman. “Did you fall or something?”

Vernon smirks, resting his head happily on the ground. “You could say that.”

The collection of vinyls, CDs, and musical content in Vernon’s room is a marvel. The piles are mixed in with the typical items in a guy’s room, socks strewn about the floor and star charts leaning against the wall. When you call Vernon a slob in a playful tone, he can’t deny it.

“I have to be in the mood to clean,” Vernon says in his defense. 

You roll your eyes. You’ve met messier guys, but Vernon’s definitely making his way to the top of the list. “If I had to be in the mood to garden, half of the greenhouse would be withering away as we speak.”

“Is that how Josh keeps his presidential position, by only doing half of the work?” Vernon smirks, running his hands over the map in front of him. The homework needed to be done yesterday. Calling you as a reinforcement to make him focus is his best chance at getting it done.

Then again, seeing you now, he thinks that was a mistake. How can he focus when you’re in his room, chastising him to work and clean his room in such a cute way?

You may just be the end of his academic career as he knows it.

“No. Josh is a good president, and he really stands up for us with the student government. If he hadn’t advocated for muggle flora imports when they wanted to put more money in the Quidditch reserves, the greenhouse wouldn’t look half as good as it does right now.” You snap your fingers together. “Like the succulent in your radio station! Josh is technically to thank for that.”

“Don’t let him take the credit. I bet you put in a lot of effort growing that thing.”

You scoff and go back to inspecting his music collection. “Have you listened to every album you own?”

Vernon nods, smiling. “Some more than once. But that’s because some of those are my folks’ copies.” He gets up from his bed to stand next to you, tracing the outlines of the vinyl jackets with his fingers. “Like this one? Stevie Wonder’s In Square Circle? One of my favorites.”

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Surprises me you’re not a music undergrad. You already know so much.”

He chuckles sadly. “My parents thought it would be best to find something more practical to study.”

“Astronomy is practical?”

A smirk appears on his lips. “Point taken.”

You huff. “Anyway, it’s your life. It should be about what you love to dot. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer, but herbology’s my calling.”

“No kidding, flower child.”

“You know that nickname is cringe!”

In the midst of your banter, Vernon was unaware how much the distance between you closed. He can smell the perfume lingering on your neck, the scent of moondew driving him insane. His better impulses tell him not to stand so close. He should avoid inching further towards you. It’s wrong to focus on the look in your eyes that tells him not to stop.

Your breath hitches just a touch, and that’s his signal to throw all of his reservations out of the window. He presses your back to the vinyl player, caring little for the scratch of the record at the sudden movement. He can buy another one later.

He captures your lips with his and instantly feels every worry sap out of his being. You wrap your arms around him, hands firm against the back of his neck and fingertips grazing the ends of his hair. Magic in his world is not just exclusive to charms, potions, and cauldrons anymore.

He has you to thank for the definition expanding.

When a moan slips out of his mouth, you pull away breathless.

“Sorry if I was too forward. I—“ Vernon blurts out.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” You smile shyly. “I wanted you to.” You press your hands to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palms. “Just don’t want to rush into anything.”

He nods without a second thought, hanging onto your words with glee. You’re into him. Enough to want him to kiss you, at least.

“Does this mean I can ask you on a proper date? Not just lunch after CPH?”

You giggle into his neck. “Yes, I would love that.”

After a month of secret kissing behind corridors, study dates in the library, and even Vernon helping tend to pollen-free plants in the garden with you, he may have to admit he’s fallen into the deep end.

But how does one say that, especially someone as terrible with non-lyrical words as him?

So, he decides the perfect way to tell you isn’t in the standard sense.

He writes.

He writes down his thoughts and feelings to a random beat that popped into his head, the rhymes that show up on the notepad in front of him exactly what’s inside of his heart. He makes final touches, moving a word around and then repeating some others. It’s not a full song, just the idea of one at this point, but it says what it needs to, and that’s more than enough.

Vernon texts his parents about his next special, and this time, they promise to listen. Maybe now he can prove to them it isn’t a fruitless endeavor not worth pursuing.

He puts the headphones over his head, one half of his mind occupied with a million thoughts and the other half excited to see what will come after the special. Dokyeom counts him in, mouth in a thin line from focus.

“Welcome to Chwe’s Power Hour, everyone. I’m Chwe Hansol, the man himself behind this lovely hour of music, and I thank you all for tuning into this special episode of the show.”

They go on as usual, answering user-created questions from the last stream and also playing a couple of requested songs. When they make it to the ten-minute mark, Vernon sees Dokyeom’s cue.

“So, recently, I met someone who has quickly become a very important part of my life. So, today, I want to share something that was on my mind with all of you.”

Vernon nods his head to Dokyeom who begins playing the backing track for Vernon’s song. Some guitar strings and a welcoming beat begin to play. The confidence suddenly rises out of Vernon, taking on its own life as he begins the song. The words come out of him effortlessly, the poetry he wrote for you synchronized with the music in a way that has even Dokyeom swaying in his seat cheerfully.

Flower child,

Why can’t I keep my thoughts off of ya?

You grow in my chest without my consent.

Please help when my heart’s under arrest.

Flower child,

I always recognize your steps

When you walk around my head.

The path you have to be familiar with.

Don’t tell me your interest’s a myth.

Flower child,

Is this garden ready to bloom?

You drive me wild.

Can I grow with you?

Flower child,

Can I show you?

You’ve left me beguiled,

Flower child.

The guitar and beat of the song fade out gradually. Dokyeom can’t help himself when he claps his hands together and cheers for his best friend, the sounds coming through in the stream. Vernon laughs and clears his throat.

“As you can hear, my co-host DK seems to have enjoyed my song.”

“Are you kidding?” Dokyeom says, mouth agape. “Best thing we’ve played on this show, no doubt.”

Vernon chuckles heartily, his chest filled with pride. Not just for himself, but for this creation he’s found enough conviction to share with the world. 

“Thank you again for all tuning into this episode of Chwe’s Power Hour, sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. I cannot wait for the next episode and your thoughts on this one. It was without a doubt my favorite special so far. To all of you listening, have a good day and night.”

When the stream comes to a close, Dokyeom grabs Vernon in a tight bear hug, screeching in glee for the younger one’s success. “That was fucking incredible!”

Before Vernon can reply, he feels the buzz of his phone in his back pocket, your name lighting up his screen.

Meet me in the greenhouse? x

Vernon walks through the greenhouse. The foliage and flora he’s encountered many times in the past since meeting you and beginning your love affair greet him. He hopes the flowers he picked up on the quick run from the radio office to the courtyard capture your heart in the same way the plants in the greenhouse do.

Even if they make his eyes itchy around the eyelashes, he will deal with it. No amount of pollen could ruin this day.

You’re working on some homework at the gardening bench when he comes in. You drop your pencil immediately when you spot him out of the corner of your eye. You smile at the bouquet in his hands. “Usually I’m the one bringing you plants.”

Vernon grins as well. “Thought I’d return the favor this time.”

You leave your stool and walk towards him. Pecking his lips, you grab the flowers from him. “You know zinnias have pollen in them.”

He shrugs, taking no stock in the stuffy feeling in his nose. “You’re worth all the allergies in the world.”

Your cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Pressing your nose into the flowers, you take in the smell with a satisfied hum. “They’re beautiful.”

“They represent long-lasting affection, according to Joshua. But he might’ve been stoned when he said that.” Vernon smirks, grabbing onto your free hand.

You giggle. Staring deep into his eyes, your expression suddenly becoming serious. “Speaking of that, I listened to your show.”

Taking a deep breath, Vernon hopes he can find the same courage he had in the studio then now to use exclusively for you. “Since the second I saw you, I was drawn to you. And all the feelings I’ve had since then I put into that song to express just a fraction of how amazing you are. And I know it’s cheesy, but I meant every word, and I hope you feel the same.”

You step away from him, letting go of his hand and walking back to the gardening workbench. Vernon’s anxiety spikes, unsure what your next step will be. Would you say what he wanted to hear, or would you tell him something that would break his heart altogether?

You drop the bouquet on the table and run back to him, knocking all the air out of Vernon’s lungs with a sudden, soul-encapsulating kiss.

In the pressure, movement, and heartfelt nature of your lips against his, he feels idiotic second-guessing you for even a minute. 

You both separate, lips still inches away and smiles abound. Despite your actions saying everything he needed to hear, the words leaving your mouth just confirms every emotion in his heart. “I love you, too.”

[lovemyromance]

Stop polluting our inboxes with your posts, all the posts we've been recieving have been from your blog. you're just trying to start shit because nobody is giving your stupid thoughts any attention

And here's the drama at my doorstep!

Lovely. I had a feeling this would happen, because some people are unaware on how to exercise sound logic and reason, but let me just say this once and for all:

I don't have time to start this kind of petty nonsense. Yes, people have brought this to my attention so I am aware my posts are being circulated like this - but I am not the one responsible for it. I have already put out multiple posts asking for this person to stop and I have never even gone into the Gwynriel or Elucien tags to start any kind of drama. Every single time I have come across a hateful troll, I have called it out and encouraged Elriels to do the same. Every single one of my posts is always tagged Elriel and anti-whatever (if-applicable).

I don't know why you felt the need to come onto my blog and accuse me of something this childish. I get we likely disagree on ships - but why are y'all treating me like I'm some demon hellbent on causing chaos? It's disrespectful and honestly, a little hurtful.

My posts are public. Anyone can copy paste on the internet. Also - they are MY posts - if I was really that insistent on anti-elriels seeing them, then I would just purposefully tag them incorrectly...why tf would I waste my time sending them individually to anti-elriel blogs??

Like, I'm honestly even more insulted that y'all think I'd be inefficient like that?

But ok - jokes aside- I've literally never gone out and tried to antagonize anti-Elriel accounts - so idk what makes y'all think I'm about to start that shit now? Not sure how many more times I can say this but I am NOT. Interested. IN. THIS. LUDICRACY.

I don't know what you people even want from me? What else am I supposed to do? Launch an investigation? Delete my blog? Why can't we just see this is a stupid troll and stop acting like I need to release an official statement like I'm fucking Joe biden or some shit? its not that deep??

Just leave me alone. All I want to do is post in my own tags, and obsess over a ship in my own corner of the internet. Not asking for much here.

[hyperfixingfr]

I'm putting this in the tags for the people who are sending me rude asks. Please do the mature thing and just don't send me nasty things. Thanks.

For the last time since I keep getting nasty fucking asks about it insulting me and calling me names; I am not tryna run none of you people outta this damn fandom and that was never my goal so quit playing victim and pretending I am. This is a fandom for everyone, obviously... Which is why I criticize when you guys treat it like it isn't. I was trying countless times yesterday to drop the conversation when the person arguing with me kept insisting that they had an issue with me talking about an aspect they didn't like, because they were arguing with me over an opinion I had that they didn't like, not over something that mattered. This aspect personally affected me, and many others in the server. This isn't an aspect I enjoy people pretending is cute or funny because it caused very, very real damage to things like body positivity. I don't try to fight with ANYONE here, ever. My entire goal in these situations is to educate when someone believes this is bad behavior by explaining why it's problematic to gloss over this aspect or glorify it when it was a very real issue. Please, ask yourself why you're beefing with a minor. I beg of you. This person had no intention to listen to me, OR the server owner, when we told them that they can have different opinions and simply ignore it if they don't like it. They also ignored the countless attempts at de-escalating the situation, proving they just wanted to argue about it.

I should also mention this person said some really nasty things that implied I was apart of cancel culture, or on the "everything is problematic" bandwagon which is kind of implying they think that criticizing bigotry is wrong, even when it's coming from the minority group it affected. My criticizing of a media is not disliking of a media, nor is it "cancel culture". I am not trying to CANCEL a show from the 2000s. I am merely pointing out its flaws. If you can't handle being apart of a morally flawed show's fandom, don't be apart of it. Not only that, but this person made passive aggressive comments such as "wow you ramble a lot" completely unnecessarily when I was speaking. Why was this needed? I know I do. Why are you trying to insinuate that my passion about the subject is weird? Either way, I wasn't trying to have this fight. They were. This person said a lot of insensitive things to me, claiming I pulled the autism card when I rebuttaled the "wow you ramble a lot" stuff, telling me they had an issue with me merely discussing a topic that was 100% allowed in the server (stated by the server owner, the channel was allowed for criticism), and was overall very passionate about putting me in the wrong for simply pointing out and discussing the flaws of a show because it was brought up. That's not okay and that's incredibly judgy. I dunno why this person can't admit they're wrong, but it's not hard to understand that my criticism is not unwarranted nor is it unwelcome. I did nothing wrong by speaking about it in a channel that directly said criticism was allowed.

Do not play victim when you started the argument AND fueled the argument when people tried to stop it. Simple as. I'm really hoping this person realizes they're wrong and apologizes appropriately like a mature adult, because this is ridiculous. This is such a stupid thing for them to have fought me over and no one's gonna be upset if they just... Did the right thing and apologize. This applies to ANY of you who mess up. If you mess up and realize you've done something you shouldn't have, just apologize man. Especially in a case like this where the person was arguing over "toma-to, tamato-e" or whatever. They didn't like my WARRENTED opinion and they got on my ass about it repeatedly, and I got nothing out of asking them why they held it because their response was basically "you don't like this media how I like it, so you can't possibly like it, get out". Hence, them asking why I'm in a server of fans if I... "Don't like the show". Simply because I criticized an aspect.

Please, if any of you don't believe me, the server is open for the public. You can go in there and see the conversation yourself. I am not hiding myself at all from this, and I'm glad to share evidence that I did just as I said and they did just as I said. This is a stupid fvking argument and any of you still dragging it on should be ashamed for thinking this is worth arguing about. People have opinions, leave it at that. What happened to respecting valid stances?

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[propertyofkylar]

a visit with the princess - f!sydney x f!kylar (royalty au)

word count: 2210

tags/warnings: TOXIC YURI, my royalty au, thigh riding, humping, kylar's kinda ooc i think but just imagine a world where she got yandere over sydney instead of pc and it's fine, a squint of homophobia from religious syd

The two young ladies sat awkwardly across from each other in the sitting room. 

Somehow, without either of their input, it had been decided that the two should get together as a sign of unity and allyship. So, here they were. Two childhood friends who hadn’t spoken in years. Sydney and Kylar, staring uncomfortably away from each other as their tea grew colder by the second. 

Sydney examined the girl who had once been her closest friend, the girl currently staring out the window and adamantly away from Sydney. She remembered quite well being young together. How one day, she was forbidden to see her best friend ever again. Things had changed, as evidenced by the two sitting in the same room together. But the tension lingered. 

Kylar looked well enough. Though years had passed, she was the same beautiful girl as ever. Her dark hair was braided, though the braids were fuzzy and coming apart. Her dress was clean, but was clearly old. It made Sydney wonder what she had been through these past few years. Not that Kylar would tell her. 

And it wasn’t for lack of trying. Every time Sydney tried to speak, Kylar fixed her with a glare so severe that it made the girl wilt. So the only sounds in the room were the occasional sips of tea and crunching of biscuits. Even the girls’ personal maids - themselves well-acquainted from Sydney and Kylar’s earlier days - were huddled in a corner together, whispering, clearly uneasy. 

Sydney picked up a jam-filled cookie and studied it closely. She let the sweet flavors spread across her tongue as she took a bite. And very hesitantly, she turned to face Kylar. “Is this–” Sydney’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat quickly. “Is this what I think it is? Do you still have the same cook…?”

Kylar frowned at the cookie Sydney was waving in the air, but at least she was looking at her now. “Yes,” Kylar said after a beat. “She…she made those specifically for you when she heard you were coming.”

Sydney couldn’t control the wide grin forming on her face. “Really? She remembered?”

Kylar didn’t respond. But Sydney decided to keep going. 

“Do you remember when we were little? And we snuck into the kitchen and ate so many sweets? I don’t think I’ve ever been scolded that badly,” Sydney couldn’t help but giggle as she fondly recalled the cherished memory. 

Then, she saw it. She knew what she saw. A ghost of a smile flashed on Kylar’s face. It was brief, but Sydney was sure it was there. 

“…yeah,” Kylar grumbled. “I think I still have trouble sitting after what mother put me through.”

This time, Sydney full on laughed. And Kylar looked at her incredulously, her mouth slightly agape. She wanted to say something. But she wouldn’t let herself. 

“Oh, I knew it! I could recognize this flavor anywhere,” Sydney beamed, finishing the cookie and quickly grabbing another. Kylar watched her, silently sipping her tea. “Please give her my regards.”

Kylar didn’t say anything. The two returned to their silence again, but the awkward tension had dissipated ever so slightly. 

As Kylar finished her tea, she had balled up part of her skirt in her fist, and her other hand was shaking as she set her cup down. “U-um,” she began, and immediately had Sydney’s full attention. “Would you like to see the gardens? I remember you liked them…”

Though Kylar’s face was sullen, Sydney’s heart swelled with joy - she had personally remembered something about her!

“I would,” Sydney replied. “I really, truly would.”

And so, just as they had done many years before, the two girls dashed outside to stroll through the manor’s luxurious gardens. 

They weren’t quite as Sydney had remembered. The flowers were in need of pruning, and the shrubbery was overgrown. It clearly hadn’t been totally abandoned, but obviously wasn’t being taken care of nearly as well as it had been in the past. 

Still, it was beautiful to Sydney. She wandered in awe, fondly remembering the hours spent here as a child. 

“Sorry that it’s kinda messy,” Kylar mumbled, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

“Oh, no!” Sydney replied so quickly and forcefully that Kylar couldn’t hide how taken aback she was. “It’s as lovely as ever!”

Kylar turned away, but Sydney thought she saw the hint of a blush creeping across her cheeks. 

“I remember playing hide-and-seek with you in these gardens,” Sydney said with a fond smile. “But you were always so much better at hiding!”

Kylar shrugged, still picking at that loose thread. “Well, I-I mean, I live here, so…”

Sydney nodded as the two of them continued their stroll. With every step, the atmosphere became more comfortable and inviting. With every step, the two girls grew closer. 

She turned to look at her childhood best friend and was surprised to see Kylar looking straight at her. There was an intensity in her eyes and while a blush crept across her face, she seemed to be willing herself to keep looking at Sydney. She offered the girl a small smile and felt something brush against the back of her hand. 

Kylar’s fingers were entwining with hers. Just as they did, so many years ago. 

The touch triggered memories in Sydney, of hours spent walking hand-in-hand. So she said nothing and simply let their hands meet. 

Sydney could hardly believe it. Kylar’s small, slightly clammy hand was in her warmer one. Her heart started racing and she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it just made her that happy. 

She stopped to examine the length of rose bushes, breathing in the sweet smell that brought her back to her younger years. A smile stretched across her face as she looked at the stunning pink and red blooms. With her free hand, she stroked a delicate petal. “I can’t tell you how much I missed these,” she said. “They’re so much bigger than the ones at the temple, and–”

But Sydney was cut off when she turned to Kylar and fully took in the look on her face. There was a heat in her eyes, and her lips were slightly parted. It was magnetic. 

“Kylar, are you…” Sydney trailed off as Kylar’s eyes darted around the garden. Sydney wasn’t sure what she was looking for. But then, Kylar nodded. 

And her lips were on hers. 

It wasn’t very romantic, and it wasn’t very good. Sydney assumed that Kylar had never kissed anyone before (much like herself) and her lips were hard and unmoving. Sydney’s were as well, but that was because she hadn’t been expecting her childhood best friend to kiss her suddenly. 

Sydney expected the girl’s face to be bright red when she pulled away, but it was ashen. Kylar looked like she was going to be sick. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Obviously, Sydney didn’t know why either. But honestly, she didn’t hate it. So she bent over and kissed her friend again. 

Kylar pressed her hands against Sydney’s stomach, while Sydney took Kylar’s face in her hands. Sydney parted her lips and the kiss deepened, and though it was so awkward and so clumsy, it felt right. 

But then, Sydney came to her senses. She pulled away so quickly that she stumbled slightly backwards. 

“Wait,” Sydney said, gasping for air like a fish out of water. “Wait, wait.”

An odd feeling she had never felt before was stirring in the pit of her stomach. Images flashed in her mind. The bishop. Jordan. Her own late mother. This was what they had warned her about her whole life. This was that dangerous, sinful lust. 

Kylar was peering up at her, her cheeks reddened and her bottom lip pouting. Her eyes were wide and dark. There was no other way Sydney could describe it - she simply looked appetizing. But she shook her head. 

“We can’t do this,” Sydney said, suddenly feeling like she was choking. “It’s…it’s wrong.” She tried to push her friend away, but couldn’t find the strength to do more than place her hands on Kylar’s shoulders. 

Kylar frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You really still believe in that stuff?”

A spark of anger coursed through Sydney’s body at that. Her thoughts were frenzied. “Yes - the church says it’s wrong - and we’re two GIRLS, even - we cannot fall into lust - just because you abandoned the church doesn’t mean you get to - ”

She stopped at the look of rage in Kylar’s eyes. “I didn’t abandon the church,” she said simply. “The church abandoned me.”

And with that, Kylar stood on her tiptoes and kissed Sydney again. 

This kiss was more passionate and almost violent. The girls’ teeth clashed against each other, Kylar’s tongue swirling in Sydney’s mouth. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was…glorious. 

Kylar pressed her body against hers and she could feel the heat through their layers of dresses. Kylar’s breasts moved against her own. When Kylar bit down on her lower lip, she let out a half-yelp, half-moan. 

Was this real? Was this actually happening? Was Sydney kissing her childhood best friend, whom she hadn’t seen in years, in a private corner of her manor’s garden? 

And if it was supposed to be wrong, why did it feel so amazing? What else were they hiding from her?

Sydney pushed that thought aside for now and turned her focus back on the warm girl she had in front of her. 

Kylar pushed her down onto a bench and hiked Sydney’s skirt up to her waist before lifting her own up and straddling her. Something hot and wet was touching Sydney’s thigh, and she shuddered when she realized what it was. 

“We can’t be doing this,” Sydney mumbled against Kylar’s hot mouth, but neither girl made any effort to move. 

Kylar’s knee bumped against Sydney’s core and she realized that, more importantly, they couldn’t. Kylar pulled back slightly, her head tilted. 

“You wear one of those things?” Kylar asked. Sydney flushed. Never before had she considered that her chastity belt would cause problems. She felt embarrassed by it. 

“S-sister Jordan said I needed to protect my purity…” she replied shyly. 

Kylar sighed and pressed her knee against where the belt covered Sydney’s most sensitive spot. It made the girl gasp. Kylar smirked. Seems that the belt wasn’t entirely useful when it came to preventing lustful actions. 

As the two of them continued kissing passionately, Kylar began to move on Sydney’s thigh, panting into the other girl’s mouth as she did so. And every time she grinded down on Sydney’s leg, her knee pushed against the belt, sending a jolt of pleasure in the area Sydney had long been forbidden to touch. Her thoughts were incoherent, dizzy and jumbled thanks to this brand new feeling. But one thought managed to cut through the rest…what else were they hiding from her, if this felt so good?

Both girls were gasping in a stuttered way, moaning into the other’s mouth as Kylar’s movements grew more and more frenzied. “W-wait,” Sydney practically yelped, but this time she wasn’t trying to stop. “It feels…it feels so good…I feel like I’m gonna explode…”

That was when Sydney climaxed for the first time in her life. Her mind went entirely blank and she squeezed her eyes shut, bright lights dancing behind her eyelids. She felt her body seize up and her belt became uncomfortably wet.

Kylar did not stop or even slow down. Sydney opened her eyes to look at the girl and found her tantalizing in a way she could have never imagined. Her own eyes were shut, her face bright red and her lips swollen. Sweat dripped down her brow and her hair was fuzzy where it was coming out of her braids, but the way the sun backlit her in the garden made her look like she was glowing. Like an angel, come to life. 

“O-oh,” Kylar moaned, rocking back and forth. “Feels s’good!” 

The smaller girl let out a high-pitched whine as she evidently hit her own climax, her hips starting to slow down as Sydney felt a rush of sticky liquid coat her upper thigh. Then, both breathing heavily, the two girls looked at each other quite seriously - and then burst into a fit of giggles.

“That was…” Sydney was at a loss for words. “I didn’t know that was possible. I didn’t know that was something people could even do!”

Kylar smiled and suddenly, she looked much younger and more full of life than Sydney had seen all day. It made Sydney forget how uncomfortably wet and sticky she was, and how she was going to hide what she had done from her maid when they left. Kylar threw her arms around Sydney’s shoulders and buried her face in the crook of her neck. 

“Thank you for coming to visit,” she said in a small voice. Sydney pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“I’d like to come by again soon, if you’ll have me,” she said in response, and she could feel Kylar smile against her skin. 

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’d like that.”

And the two of them sat in silence after that.

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[tzarrz]

i listen to fog lake too much

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[crispyjenkins]

mandalore the young cont.

original post/discussion here! it was just getting really long and i for one hate scrolling so far, so. here's this. have also added this au to my masterlist in my pinned post!

@malcontent-crow

#i had a whole wall of tags and it didnt save! lets try this again#i am loving this. the potential for world building and the consequences of knowing more than you should (literally)

#i had forgotten that DW wasnt in peoples thoughts as a threat during the Clan Wars#and the idea that Pre was so far underground with the movement is a very good thing to remember as well! #on one hand you have this driven and spirited young verd that is inspiring Clans to start reassessing who they are fighting and why#on the other you have this clanless outsider that knows waaaaay too much about all the potential major players and is saying#that this major threat isnt really as gone as everybody thought and hoped. sith parallels out the wahoo for ppor obi#and hes standing there watching them all argue over his head about this threat that he KNOWS needs to be dealt with#he is seeing himself as pretty on par or above with the Old Guard in terms of mental age or prowess or large scale battles#so he sees them doubt him maybe even to his face and knows he'll need to get things started on his own

#and becauae everything in the galaxay has at least one person watching it from the outside... how quickly does the news of a jedi padawan#going off the rails on this mission get out? whos keeping track and who points fingers at the jedi for attempting to control the outcome#of the war of their historical enemies in their favor? the senate (read sith) want mandalore defanged before their war but what does it look#like the jedi want? how does the council answer for his actions? do they condemn or condone him? do they try to stay out of it?

#the world building potential of the Manda and the Ka'ra is delicious.#what does it mean to be a mando or darmanda? can you walk around and have people look at you and know you have failed in your oaths?

#and ouch! Obi-Wan considering the fact that he has never been allowed to be his own person.#from padawan to knight/master and then a general and councilor and sheesh. hes really never had the chance to see who he is as a person#outside of his responsibilities to everybody around him and right now hes a war worn adult in a war worn teens body#hes always had somebody else there. as a battle companion a teacher a student as somebody to protect and guard and guide#and now he has this entire culture looking at him and waiting for his next move. and im guess it still feels like less than a burden than#the care and raising of an entire child on his own. sure he had the temple resources and other jedi to lean on but anakin always looked to#him first to solve any problem or teach him something new or cuddle him after nightmares as hes trying to hide his own dreams#and grief and flounding to find his footing as an independent adult

#so right now hes looking around at the entire mando population and realizing thats he might need to reshape himself again for somebody else#to make himself what others need and knowing he can and will do it if it means saving somebody else

#and when exactly did he come back from the war? did he have satine die in his arms and see the ruin that is madalore after a pacifist reign?#does he see the potential for that ruin to happen right now if he doesnt succeed? where does he see himself in regards to the jedi?#has he considered the consequences of stepping up to be the Mand'alor to this culture he has never seen as his own?#has he let himself think about the choices he needs to make and how some things you cant always come out the other side the same as before?

(following the trend of each of these getting longer, this has hit just under 5,000 words, so just a heads up lol? so much world building is happening in this one)

sorry you had to rewrite so much! that last exchange was cursed, it seems lmao

it's so easy to write Obi-Wan as prescient, or the route I'm going with in Dha Kar'ta, so i think it's a fun change-up to have him knowledgeable for completely different reasons! I'm actually going to avoid visions almost at all for this Obi, but everyone else certainly won't know the difference, and he doesn't tell them otherwise (though he won't encourage it either. I do actually have a Naruto time travel where Nart pretends to be psychic à la Shawn Spencer, so that isn't the route I wanna go for this Obi). the consequences of knowing too much, indeed

hmmm many of these questions depend on how deep into Jedi and galactic politics I wanna go, and I'm not sure it's very deep at all. or at least, not very dragged out. i'll explain in a mo

SO first: yes, this Obi is from after Satine dies, in 19 BBY, maybe a month or so after, but before the bombing of the Temple so before Ahsoka left the Order. He was back on the front, no time to properly mourn, though he was doing his best, and was meditating on the whole war, but especially the Sith and their hand in everything that happened on Mandalore. It went deeper than Maul, he knew, had been going on longer than Maul and even Dooku, and it occurred to Obi-Wan that the Sith either wanted a Mandalore that will side with them but not be too much a threat, or they wanted them not a threat at all. He realised his hand in that, in helping put the New Mandalorians on the throne that led to the demilitarisation of the entire sector. Obi-Wan had practically teed Mandalore up for Dooku and then Maul's interference, and if the Republic won the war, he could all too easily see them doing another excision. won't get too much into it to save it for the fic, but he is mediating with something beskar, and he gets a lil too deep into the Force, and of course this is post-Mortis so...... 👀

so this Obi-Wan, back in time, is helping Mandalore to prevent any more Sith machinations in the future, to change the future for the whole galaxy, but even before he's Chosen, he realises he's also doing all of this for Mandalore. for his own hand in its destruction, for the Jedi's hand in the Excision, for his personal connection to Satine drawing Maul to it. it's for atonement, for reparation, and also because Mandalore deserves to be saved, and Obi-Wan is in a place he can help do that. it isn't just about the health of the galaxy, anymore.

I usually shy away from having Obi-Wan leave the Order, no matter what AU I'm throwing him in because I believe in the fundamental goodness of the Order and the people in it, and Obi-Wan is fundamentally a Jedi, one of the best, one of the best. however, in this case, I don't think he can have his cake and eat it too. if Dooku had to leave the Order to accept his countship, then Obi-Wan would have to leave to become Mand'alor. Jedi are (supposed to be) politically neutral, and Obi-Wan is all too aware he'd nullified his own neutrality the moment he decided to go for Keldabe to find Jango.

one of my favorite... tropes? in time travel fic is Obi using his future fellow councilmembers' access codes to get into things he shouldn't, and he certainly knows how to work the Order's internal systems in his favor, so he

wait so i was gonna have him go in and tender his resignation from the Order directly into the systems, and backdate it for before the Mandalore mission, so that anything he's done on Mandalore so far cannot be blamed on the Jedi BUT WHAT IF he just. deletes himself. like completely. from admin to the Archives to the crèche's own internal systems to the Shadow's private servers, Obi-Wan Kenobi was never a Jedi, was never a Temple bastard, was never Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan. his mission records are all in Qui-Gon's name now, his medical file simply doesn't exist, his crècheling clan is listed as simply having been a person short compared to other clans that year. he goes so far as to delete comm histories with him or mentioning him, it's like Obi-Wan Kenobi just doesn't exist anymore.

he does this first thing after leaving Jango, he spends the entire week back to Mandalore ensuring he's been completely erased from absolutely anything relating to the Jedi, and then uses his future councilmember knowledge (and lessons from Quinlan) to erase himself from Republic systems, too. any planet he'd helped as a padawan will suddenly have no records of him as having been there with his master, so the senate or Order can't subpoena them for the info, though Obi-Wan knows he can't have gotten everything (such as any planet not in the Republic, or who don't have holonet access to their files, or both, like Melida/Daan), but he figures he's done enough to absolve the Order if anyone comes knocking about what he's doing.

he buries his lightsaber in the deserts of Mandalore, not knowing that in his old future, he'd have done the same on Tatooine.

so as far as the Jedi are aware: Obi-Wan went on a mission with Qui-Gon that (predictably) went to hell, got separated from his master for weeks to months, then suddenly changed, at the same time their Jedi with the highest prescience collapsed due to his visions, which have also changed. Obi-Wan left Qui-Gon behind to hightail it through the Mandalore sector, and Qui-Gon couldn't catch up or find him, and then Obi-Wan disappeared from anyone's radars for two weeks. then Qui-Gon senses him reenter the Mandalore system, right before breaking his training bond with him, and the Order wakes up to Obi-Wan completely erased from their systems like he never existed in the first place. everything is going so so wrong, and yet. and yet.

and yet the Force is telling them all that this is right, that this is the least Dark course of action, that whatever Obi-Wan is doing is indeed the Will of the Force

so the Order mourns one of their own, and tells Qui-Gon to let him go. and then the Order ups their cyber security because what.

i think he leaves an unsigned letter/comm message for a few people. Bant, Quinlan, Mace, Feemor, his old crèchemaster, Yoda, maybe Jocasta Nu. it's short, basically thanking them for their hand in his upbringing (Feemor hasn't even met him before so is very confused by this), apologising for leaving abruptly, but to follow the Will of the Force, he had to leave; the first part of the message is all the same, but ends with little individual notes. he apologises to Madam Nu for fucking with her archives and hopes she can one day forgive him; he asks her to keep her friends close and to mend the tension between her and Dooku, that Obi-Wan should not know about. He tells Yoda that the future is always in motion but they must move with it; he asks Yoda to meditate on his dwindling lineages and learn to accept all that he cannot control. He reminds Quinlan to wear his gloves and asks him to thank Tholme for looking out for him when Qui-Gon wouldn't or didn't; he thanks him for their years together, and asks him to check in on Feemor every now and then. He apologises to Mace for all the shatter-points he likely caused and will continue to cause, and suggests he put a permanent reminder in his comm to remember to refill his migraine prescription that sixteen year-old Obi should not know about. He asks Bant to look out for a young Togruta initiate that will join in seven years, and suggests Bant might like the healer track rather than the knight corps; he thanks her for being his longest and most dearly-held friend. He thanks his crèchemaster for realising his visions were more than dreams (which will inadvertently lend credence to that theory for why Obi-Wan changed so suddenly), for supporting him when Bruck was at his nastiest, and for always being someone he could turn to even after he became a padawan. For Feemor, Obi-Wan apologises that they hadn't had the chance to meet before then, and for the relationship they won't have anymore; Feemor has no idea who this message is from, until he starts hearing the gossip that Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Order again. He too mourns never getting to know his padawan brother.

and Obi-Wan sends Qui-Gon a message, of course, thanking him for his teachings, apologising for "leading him on" as an apprentice, leaving and coming back so many times only to permanently leave this time. he reminds Qui to reach out to his friends and his support system, asks him to at least consider talking to a mind or soul healer about Xanatos (knowing that once it gets out that Obi-Wan is a planetary leader, it will likely badly trigger Qui-Gon), and asks him to at least try and mend his relationship with Dooku, though understands if that's not something Qui-Gon is willing to do. asks him to keep Satine safe, but to deeply think about why the Republic is so intent on helping her faction, and why Qui-Gon had questioned so little of the New Mandalorian ethos.

so by the time Obi-Wan finds the Old Guard, he's broken from the Order completely, has buried his saber, has broken his training bond, has cut his braid. I think he shaves his head entirely to let it grow out at the same rate, because the padawan cut is *Eliot Spencer voice* Very Distinctive. he paints his armour white for, yes, his men, his vod'e, but also for cin vhetin. he can't be the man he was before, nor the teen he was before, neither are who Mandalore needs, and as long as he can stay true to his morals and upbringing, he will be what Mandalore needs him to be.

okay now onto the Manda vs. the Ka'ra vs. the Force. the Force is a scientific concept of an energy connecting absolutely everything in the universe, and the Jedi have a religious view on the scientific concept. for both purposes, the Force just is. I really like the idea of other non-Jedi ideas just being different aspects of the Force, different religions and cultures based on the same scientific concepts. for Mandalorians, their "aspect" of the Force is the Manda, the collective souls of every Mando'ade that's ever marched on. just what it means to be Mando'ade has varied greatly through history, and is varied between different groups even now, but none of that changes what the Manda is, which is an aspect of the Force only Mando'ade can touch. sort of like their beliefs of it being separate from the Force have made it so?

now I haven't really talked about this before, but from the beginning of me writing Mandalorian related things, i've separated Ka'ra from ka'ra, which was a little bit me misremembering there was another term for "stars", and then it became it's own thing. kar, meaning "star", with it's plural kar'e or kare, to me, means physical stars, the way we'd call our sun a star. ka'ra, uncapitalised, is the more poetic and/or spiritual "stars", the way we might say something is "written in the stars", which actually aligns with how jate'kara is spelled; for my writing, i've used this form for Mandalorian Force-sensitives being Star-touched ka'ra-touched. Ka'ra, capitalised, is that "ruling council of fallen kings", the Mandalorian myth and it, the way I've always interpreted it, is a separate part of the Manda made up of specifically the souls of every Mand'alor already marched on. So, Tor Vizsla could have joined the Manda after death, but not the Ka'ra; make sense? all that ka'ra vs Ka'ra worldbuilding was done very early in my writing for star wars, and has since expanded to include the idea of the Manda as something separate, and I would now actually consider Manda-touched over Star-touched to describe Force sensitive Mando'ade, because that's really what I think Mandalorians would consider causes their supernatural powers: ancestors rather than the stars.

so what does that mean for this fic? the Manda is directly influenced by all those that consider themselves Mandalorian, Force-sensitive or not. it is, however, not affected by New Mandalorians, unless they worship the Manda in some facsimile, and I think many, many, many do not, not the way they were raised to. this worship looks different for every clan and every individual, and I've always interpreted it as more of a broad spiritual practice across the whole culture rather than a religion, per se, the way a real-world broader culture might pray at shrines at New Years even if individuals themselves or their family aren't religious. this is what I'm referencing when I say the Will of the People: the alive Mando'ade and their choices and emotions affecting and influencing the Manda, the collective amalgamation of every passed-on Mando'ade, and it's when these two are in tandem that they "pick" a Mand'alor. HOWEVER, such a pick is also up to the Ka'ra, the Mand'alor'e that have all marched on; to one day enter the Ka'ra themselves, a Mand'alor must be "picked" by both the People/the Manda, and the Ka'ra. Tor would be "picked" by a significant part of the People and the Manda, and so would Jaster have been, but (according to me, myself, and i, obviously), only Jaster had been chosen by the Ka'ra. Pre is "Mand'alor" only in name, only in a tenuous loyalty existing in House Vizsla and Death Watch, not even by the Manda; just simple human (et al) loyalty. Jango had a weaker "pick" from the Manda than Jaster did, but was picked by the Ka'ra, meaning if he did not declare himself dar'manda (even just internally; I don't think he's ever said it out loud), he would have joined the Ka'ra after death; if he ever reconnects with himself as a Mandalorian, I like to think he'd have that chance again. Canon Jango, though, who went on to make the clones? Absolutely not.

what does this all mean for Obi-Wan? he'd spent weeks inadvertently drumming up support in the people and therefore the Manda, and maybe most haven't really looked at him and thought "sure I'd follow him as Mand'alor", but they have looked at him and thought "that one has mandokar, that one wants what's best for Mandalore, that one is touched by destiny". I dunno, man, like. Obi-Wan is their hope before he is their leader. That will make all the difference when he does end up uniting them. His searching out Jango had made Jango finally confront that he feels dar'manda, until then he hadn't really lost the Ka'ra's support, but that severs that connection. and now the Ka'ra are without a Mand'alor, but look at that, there's a mandokar'la little idiot right there, already strong in the Manda, already rallying hope and purpose, already so invested in the nurturing and the future of Mandalore, how could the Ka'ra not choose him?

I posed the question previously whether or not Mando'ade can tell who has been chosen to be Mand'alor, and I think I've ironed out what that'll mean for this fic. non-Force sensitive Mando'ade will have this sense when near their Mand'alor, a subconscious and inherent trust in them, and indeed, some will be disturbed by this and fight it. that's alright, that's their right. Some never clock this extra sense, some are aware of it always, some just chalk it up to "gut feelings" and the like. The more spiritual or religious Mandos maybe put a little more stock in this feelings, I think especially goran'e and other spiritual leaders, but the fact that the Manda can technically pick more than one person at a time (like Tor and Jaster, and then Jango), this extra sense isn't a perfect indicator of a properly chosen Manda'lor.

now. what about Force sensitive Mando'ade? Well, the Manda is an aspect of the Force, and is in fact how said Force sensitive Mando'ade connect to the Force, by going through the Manda, first. their relationship with sensitivity is inherently different from others in the galaxy, at least those that connect to it directly. they are the ones that can sense or see if someone is chosen by the Ka'ra, depending on their sensitivity. Some see the ghostly line of previous Mand'alor'e stretched out behind them (like the Avatar cycle lmao), some see a wavering crown of stars around their head, some just sense there is a duplicity (/neutral) to their Force presence that doesn't exist in anyone else. how common is Force sensitivity in Mandalorian space? not fuckin very. Jaster had three in his entire faction of aprox. 2 million (fanon number), at least that were aware they were sensitive. Jango only had a few more, and only because he had gained a couple hundred thousand more followers before Galidraan. so i'll make the nearly-arbitrary number that Force sensitive Mandos are 1 in 1,000,000, across the entire sector. by some calculations, in the whole galaxy at around the time of the Clone Wars the number of Force sensitives is 1 in 5,000,000 but these calculations do not generally include societies and species with a near or 100% chance of Force sensitivity, because we simply don't have the data for it. does this all make Mandos slightly more likely to be Force sensitive than others, by my own numbers? sorta. which i'm making an issue of underreporting, based on Mandalore not being a part of the Republic, and also contention with the Jedi and Sith; they don't consider those Manda-touched to be Force sensitive, and with the way I've built this, they aren't exactly wrong.

for the purposes of this story, there are maybe eight Manda-touched Mando'ade in the Mandalore system at this time, and all but one are goran'e. that single non-armorer is part of the Old Guard. I have the roster for the Old Guard decided, so I'm debating whether the Manda-touched one is Cort Davin (a journeyman protector), or one of the women. Instinct wants Vhonte Tervho, but I have plans for her to be related to the goran Obi-Wan got his armour done by, who I wanted to be one of the seven Force sensitive armorers, soooo. lmao how fucked would it be if Isabet Reau is the Force sensitive one? I like the angst of that, since I definitely do not plan on redeeming her, but I kind of want the only Old Guard that can sense Obi-Wan is Chosen by the Ka'ra to be really quiet and accepting of it, while everyone else is arguing. hmmm I have an unnamed Wren as part of the Guard, that I haven't fleshed anything out for yet; perhaps them?

okay I think I've solidified what it makes a Mandalorian, at least for the function of this fic. it is tied to the Resol'nare, and following it, which does allow those who had Chosen Tor Vizsla as their Mand'alor to technically still be following the Resol'nare, and are therefore not dar'manda. at least not for that. but part of the reason the Resol'nare is even able to determine who has a Mandalorian soul, is because they believe it does. Those alive and those dead influence the functionality and reality of the Manda, which also allows for those pre-Resol'nare to still exist in the Manda. What causes someone to become dar'manda, if they are technically following the Resol'nare?

maybe it's reductive, or over-simplified, or maybe even too broad, but it makes sense to me and allows for many many different types of people to still fail, and this is obviously not the only way to become dar'manda, but one thing that will always strip someone of their Mando soul? treatment of children. caring for children. not harming children. this allows many of Death Watch to still maintain their Mando souls, but still be fucked up awful people in other ways. It allows even True Mandalorians to have lost their souls and not realised it because they otherwise adhered to the Resol'nare, because they'd chosen to interpret "defending oneself and family" and "raising your children as Mandalorians" to not include other peoeple's children. Or maybe they were abusive in the belief they were caring for their children. This would also make every single one of the Cuy'val Dar dar'manda, which I think is a fascinating concept.

to answer your question directly, no, one cannot look at someone and know they're dar'manda, even the Force/Manda sensitive ones. one will only know in death, whether or not they have a place in the Manda.

NOW what does this mean for New Mandalorians?? well, by technicality and the way I've set the Manda up, one can interpret the Resol'nare in ways that could align with New Mandos. Perhaps they interpret "armour" as more than specifically "beskar'gam", maybe they wear armourweave or other protective fabrics. Maybe they interpret "defending one's family" as putting down arms instead of raising them, in order to create a peaceful future for their children. I think there are plenty of New Mandos that technically tick off all the boxes, and believe in themselves and their fellows so much that the Manda is like "yeah sure why not, we'll make that count". I think some tenants are more easily... bent, like swearing to the duchy in place of the Mand'alor, but I think an easy one New Mandos miss, is "speak Mando'a." I think many New Mandos were all too quick to switch to Basic for everything except religious and spiritual ceremonies, and I think those already in the Manda would find that very hard to forgive. I actually get into this a little in Dha Kar'ta very soon, but for this fic, i'll have Satine not outright outlawing Mando'a, but it is socially heavily discouraged. you're not allowed to speak it in the palace unless in aforementioned ceremonies, you cannot fill out paperwork in anything but Basic, you're not allowed to use Mando'a titles (including Mand'alor), you're not allowed to teach it to your children. no outright like. punishments for speaking it in public, but if your kids are caught, there are repercussions, including investigation into how else you're raising your kids, and if you're found to be doing anything else, they can take your kids from you. not every New Mando agrees with this, of course, and go about adhering to the Resol'nare as best they can in secret, but so many do give up the language by convincing themselves it's not as important as the other tenants and, well, the duchy hasn't steered them all wrong yet, has it?

okay so on the subject of what the outside galaxy is seeing. I like the headcanon/trope/idea of like. the one thing all factions of Mandalorians agreeing on is fuck everyone else. oh, the New Mandos will emulate the Core and the Republic, but they aren't the Republic nor want to be, and this animosity extends to keeping as many internal Mandlorian issues just that: internal. no faction can keep news from leaving the system or the sector, obviously, but there also isn't a lot of interest in Mandalorian news? "oh look all the Mandos are fighting again", except that's been the standard for like. actual thousands of years. I like when fic have people outside the sector not evening knowing there are different factions, so I'll be doing that here, too, and I like the idea of non-Republic sectors having their own holonets, separate from the Republic one. so like, if Obi-Wan happens to go a little viral during his mad dash to Keldabe, that would be on the Mandalorian holonet, not the Republic one, so even if Obi-Wan was visibly still a Jedi (and he wasn't), actual news of him wouldn't reach the Mid and Inner Rims until like. possible years after it happens.

could this maybe be expedited by Sith machinations? absolutely, though I'm not sure I want to go that route, since I don't think the Sith are overmuch interested in Mandalore at this point, at least not in any hands-on capacity. I'm unclear on whether them funding Death Watch is fanon or not, but it is a headcanon I subscribe to, and I think they'd have stopped funding DW after Galidraan, to cause worse infighting and prevent DW from gaining enough power to actually restart their imperial conquering days. Palpatine has been senator for about ten years by this point, but has very little political power overall, and Demask would be looking basically anywhere but Mandalore at this point in time, both of them having written it off until they actively need something from the sector. if anyone had clocked Obi-Wan as a Jedi, this all would have gone very differently, news would have spread much further and quicker and I think undoubtedly would have reached Palpatine, but since I have Obi-Wan just... cutting ties to anything Jedi, news of him remains in-sector. is this perhaps unrealistic? maybe, but I kind of want to focus on Mandalore and not worry about galactic-wide politics for once, lmao, actually very much like Obi-Wan is doing. however, he will clock a lack of Sith interference and thinks That's Very Weird.

haven't decided how he finds Palpatine out yet, but I think it'll have to do with his Manda senses being different than his Force ones, maybe the Ka'ra even gives him a few tips or gifts to sense Sith since they've allied and fought with them so much in the past. regardless, that'll be after he's become Mand'alor and united the clans.

now to actual plot progression! Obi-Wan meets up with the Old Guard, they don't know what to make of him other than "he's kriffing weird. and young. and creepy. and probably Manda-touched." whatever other verd is Manda-touched will see him blessed by the Ka'ra, which causes them to look inwards more closely and realise they trust Obi-Wan inexplicably, which means they're blessed by the Manda and the Will of the People, too. they wonder if Obi-Wan has noticed, if any of the other Old Guard have noticed. they are one of a few that notice Obi-Wan sneaking back out while everyone is arguing.

Vhonte Tervho is another. She's at this lil summit to represent clan Tervho, tho isn't the clan head, because her ba'vodu, a Manda-touched goran, had sensed she needed to be at the summit. said ba'vodu is of course the armorer who reforged Obi-Wan's armour (need to find a name for them hmm), who had told their clan they were to cease fighting until their new Mand'alor called on them. Vhonte sees Obi-Wan, realises at the same time as everyone that he's the Kih'Manda, the Mand'ika that the entire system had been gossiping about for weeks, and she thinks of what her ba'vodu said. she looks inwards, like they had taught her to, and finds, yes, she trusts Obi-Wan, just like she used to trust Jango. And, well, her Mand'alor is obviously leaving to go do something, and she isn't going to let him go it alone.

the Manda-touched verd doesn't go with them, wanting to see what comes of this, but they already know Obi-wan is Ka'ra Chosen. they will come when he calls.

[ween-kitchens]

romance repulsed people of tumblr, if people were to tag romance in the same way they would tag sex/nsfw stuff what would be the best tag?

please rb i’d like for a lot of people to see this so they start tagging stuff as romance if they otherwise don’t (the question and poll are mostly window dressing icl)

[little-mouse-adventures]

@orangerosebush's post here, with my comment and @fowlblue's tags today got me thinking.

Artemis Senior has been teaching his son matters of business from a young age. Not only was Artemis, at 11 years old, discussing stocks with his father, but Fowl Senior had been imparting his wisdom onto his son for years by that point, discussing the ever-increasing value of gold with him before tucking him into bed. Even outside of pure monetary value, Sr. had tried to go legitimate with his business dealings, leading Artemis to have a few legal ventures of his own.

We also see very early on in the books that Artemis has been regularly using Butler as a resource for his plots: bouncing ideas off him was apparently a fairly common tactic when he was scheming.

Both Artemis Senior and Butler are interested in (or at least, not opposed to) educating Artemis on the ways of their lifestyle(s). It would be Artemis Senior who would have taught his son the value of banks and safety deposit boxes and hidden safes but it was Butler who was actively working with Artemis to rob those safety deposit boxes.

In the same vein of breaking-and-entering, TLC also gives us the fun little moment where Butler hands Artemis his own lockpicks, to get into the workings of the bomb.

With one line we learn that Artemis knows how to pick locks, but does not have his own set of lockpicks. Butler, on the other hand, has both the tools and knowledge how to use them. Partnered with a brief mention in TTP of some the specific trades of those previously employed by Artemis Senior (including such things as crime lords, insider traders, and cat burglars), we can extrapolate that Artemis Senior would generally hire someone to pick a lock for him, rather than do so himself.

It's pretty logical to conclude then that Artemis learned big-picture management from his father, and day-to-day skillsets from his bodyguard.

Essentially, Artemis Senior taught Artemis how to run a criminal empire. Butler taught Artemis how to be a criminal.

[dukeofthomas]

I can't find it now but there's a post about suspension of disbelief and how it's broken when the story starts trying to excuse it. "character gets knocked unconscious for hours but there's no further issues from this" okay 👍 "and actually this makes perfect sense because of this and that" um no it doesn't why are you lying to me. like i am willing to ignore the holes and the discrepancies!! all you need to do is let me and not bring unnecessary attention to it!!!

and all that is my issue with the whole robin child soldier argument. like i am willing to ignore it i am willing to engage with the fantasy literally all you need to do is NOT try to convince me that Actually It's Fine Because They Want To Do It or whatever. like literally just shut up about it and i can engage with the fantasy!!