#it's probably better that I don't know how she's doing. What with how I make everything my fault.

[bananayuyu]

Behind the Scenes

pairing: idol!yunho x makeup artist!reader genre: smut wc: 1.6k

summary: being a makeup artist on tour certainly had it's perks, and anytime he wanted you, Jeong Yunho was gonna take what he could get

warnings: smut, MDNI, they do stuff in a storage closet lol, throat fucking, facial, degradation, mean!yunho a bit, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering

a/n: thought I'd be finishing my San series this weekend, but then he went and posted these pictures. he will be the fucking death of me. sorry for typos, I barely edited this <3

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"Holy shit, Bora fucking nailed it today, you look so good."

"You think?"

Yunho's lips were turned up in a smirk, his brows high. But even when he tried to poke fun, you knew you always had the upper hand when it came to bickering. It was too easy with him, his good nature always slipped through, even when you wished it wouldn't. Being a makeup artist on tour allowed you all the proximity needed to know everything about him.

You rolled your eyes at his question, indication enough that you were not going to do this in front of everyone.

"Will you take some pictures for me?" he said instead.

"Now?" You had to ask it with that surprised look on your face, otherwise everyone would start to figure out what was up.

"Yeah."

"Kiki, do you need help with San?" you called across the room.

"His hair's gonna take another ten minutes probably, but then we'll need to finish his face makeup," she answered.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few."

With one look at Yunho you made for the door, and he lazily followed you out, long arms and legs swinging. He was already biting his lip; he had seen how you were looking at him earlier, when he'd first walked in the door with his outfit on.

You were damn good at hiding it in front of everyone, but he knew the look of lust when he saw it. Even if it only flashed in the whites of your eyes.

"Where do you wanna go?" you asked as he exited the door behind you.

"Let's just walk down this way, see if there's a good spot." He held out a hand, pointing roughly in the direction of the quietest part of the hallway.

The part he'd scoped out earlier. But he was a good actor, and even you weren't sure if this was part of the plan or not.

"Here?" you asked as he pulled up to an old grey box backstage, rough marks across it's front indicating the copious years of use.

"Yeah," he chuckled, handing you his phone with the camera pulled up, then leaning against it, one hadn't in his pocket, one on his chin, staring off with all the nonchalance he could muster.

"Okay," you laughed, shaking your head snapping the photo.

"What, is it bad?"

"It's fine, that box is just, kind of ugly."

"I'm not," he shot back. "Keep going, keep taking them."

"I am," you replied, rolling your eyes. You'd been doing this for months, it was mildly insulting that he didn't realize you understood how to do this.

He peered around and grabbed hold of a pole infront of him, part of a support structure in back of the stage. Then he goofily threw his arms wide, twirled around, then stopped himself again and jutted out a hip, cunty as ever.

"Oh my god," you laughed, finally pulling the phone down. You'd taken probably thirty pictures already, but this background really wouldn't suffice.

"What?"

"There no where else we can go?"

"You don't like this background?"

You shot him a disapproving look, and his eyes sharpened a bit in return, his lip again caught in his teeth as he tried to keep from laughing.

"Fine, let's walk further," he said, eventually.

Finally you came to the shiny doors of a service elevator, as wide as they were tall, at least a solid color and unmarred by scratches.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much better," you nodded, walking back to give you the appropriate distance. Yunho immediately was taking it more seriously, locked in, face set and poses at the ready. He knew his angles and knew exactly how to hold his face, making each photo a new masterpiece. There was one where he held his face to the side, and the sight of his jawline and profile were so perfect you twitched a moment, the second picture turning blurry.

"Do I look good?"

You chuckled in response, not shaking your head or nodding, not giving him anything. You just stared with slitted eyes, almost pissed at your dear coworker who'd styled this outfit, how it so perfectly encapsulated everything that made him so fuckable.

"Let's do a few more," he said, readjusting one last time.

And then he leaned back, stretched his arms forward, and winked.

At you, not at the camera. You could feel how pointed it was.

"Yunho." You stopped, pulling the phone down, and just stared at him.

"Come on," he said, tilting his head to the side, indicating a door just to the right of the elevator.

With a quick look over both shoulders you hastily followed him, slipping inside the small room.

It was a storage closet, of course, as always. His lips were on yours before you could think to say anything, and he was grabbing hungrily at your waist and hips, forcing his tongue in your mouth, claiming your body in every way he could. It may have always been you with the power when it came to words, but as soon as they were gone and all that was between you was lust addled heat, he was suddenly in control.

"Get on your knees," he mumbled, breaking the kiss enough to say it, only to kiss you hard again and back you up against a wall, making it difficult to follow his command. You felt through his pants and he was already firm, your own panties filling with arousal as he towered over you. With force you pulled away, slunk down slowly, and let him work at his belt and zipper, pulling his pants just low enough to reveal his hard length.

"You like this outfit don't you?" he asked as you let him enter your mouth, slowly rubbing the underside of his tip along the warm velvety plane of your tongue. The heat and wetness was electrifying, and so too was the dark look in your eye as you gazed up through blinking lashes. "You got all fucking horny just looking at me, didn't you?"

You were nodding constantly, mumbling answers around his thick cock, holding your head steady as you knew he liked.

"Your such a little whore, couldn't wait for me to fuck you mouth, could you?" His voice got so much deeper, so much richer, when he had you like this. Gone was the sweet Yunho you always knew when working; he'd never be able to keep up with your sharp tongue then, but once your mouth was filled and he had the space, he loved to get mouthy.

"Open up for me," he said as he tried to push in further, the back of your throat feeling far to tight to take him. You whined in response, always finding this part hard; he did what he had to do, landing a quick smack to your right cheek, the shock of it always making your throat open involuntarily. He used the opportunity to push in further, his hips finally coming nearly flush with your face.

"Fuck, that little throat is so fucking tight," he groaned, holding you there, your head pressed against the wall behind. "Who knew so much shit talking could come from such a tiny throat."

You normally would laugh in pride at someone calling you that, but you were having trouble breathing, and you were so fucking horny, and he had rendered you as mindless and fucked out as he always did, just from one simple movement.

You waited for him, holding your breath, and finally he pulled back, only to push in again. It was even harder, rougher, and he didn't care how quickly tears were streaming down your face or how hard it was for you to catch your breath. He had only minutes before he was expected on stage, he knew that, but he needs this release, needed this chance with you.

"I could fuck your mouth all day baby, such a good little slut for me," he groaned, holding tight to your hair with one hand, the other smacked to the wall in front of him. From below all you could see was his wide chest and wide shoulders, his shirt accentuating them, his tie floating in the air above you. You wanted to reach up and grab at it, to fuck with him a little, but soon his thrusts became so fast and harsh that there was nothing else you could think of. It didn't take long for him to start coming down your throat, and then he pulled back to let the end of his orgasm wash over your face too, painting you in his cum.

You sat panting as he held his cock in his hand, his breaths coming hard and in waves, your own lungs struggling to find any rhythm. You swallowed hard, coughing a few times as you regained yourself, brushing a strange of hair out of your face that was stuck there.

"You look so fucking hot covered in my cum," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants, zipping them up and latching his belt with ease. You stood slowly, your knees aching from the position you'd been in, a trail of arousal slipping down your leg. You were wobbly and flushed, eyes still dark, and Yunho knew what you needed, it was so easy to tell.

He turned you around and bent you over, forcing you to place your hands on the wall for balance. Then he pulled down your pants, pushed your panties to the side, and slipped three long fingers inside you easily, your cunt so flushed and wet that he didn't need to spit too.

"Fuck," you cried, his movements harsh and fast, his end goal in mind. It didn't take long until he felt you spasming around him, but he kept going, even as you rag dolled forward and almost fell, even as you mumbled and whined incoherently. He didn't let up until the spasming came again, using his other hand to rub over your clit and rip your second orgasm from you.

[iluvbuckets]

take it like a taker

paige bueckers x fem!reader 

summary: you and paige are freaked tf out

warnings: a little plot but its still about sex, lots of dirty talk (i don't like quiet sex sue me), oral, strap! yay!, choking, praise, light degradation, whimpering, begging, overstimulation, lots of edging, crying, sub!paige (hehehe), she's kind of a brat but a whiny one, mentions of her being a munch, let me know if i missed anything lol

word count: 4.6k

notes: here's the pride special!! sorry it took so long! deadass don't think i have never written anything this fucking filthy ever in my 11 years of writing fanfics (that makes me sound old i just started way too young). happy pride month <3

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you saw the edits, the comments, the fanfiction. you read what her fans said about her, what they assumed–that she’s probably a player, dominant, takes the lead. she knew exactly what to say and how to say it every time, especially in bed. that she was the one giving, whispering praise in your ear as she touched you, slamming the strap into you, giving you head until you couldn’t take it anymore.

god, they couldn’t be more wrong. 

and you loved it. 

there was something so thrilling about the secrecy of it all. the stark contrast of the way she presented herself versus the way she really was behind closed doors. it made your possessive tendencies thrive. you were not only the only one who could hear her desperate begging for more, her loud moans when you hit the right spot, the whimpers when you touched her at all, the squirming when you whisper something dirty in her ear in public, the occasional brattiness when she was in a sour mood that she would absolutely be punished for, but you were the only one who even knew about it at all. 

you let her play the part in public. you let her confidence ooze easily from her lips like it was second nature, without any argument. you let her lead conversations with ease. you let her put her hands on the small of your back to guide you, on your waist when you were talking to people, or on your thigh when you were sitting down together. you let her pick up checks when you went out to eat or went shopping, and open your doors like she was the one in charge. 

she could do all these things when everyone was watching because it wouldn’t change that she would be on her knees for you, begging for you to touch her or to let her touch you, as soon as you got home. and there was no place she’d rather be.

“i want you to sit on my face,” she whispered, a hand covering her mouth so no one could try to read her lips.

you wanted to be shocked, you really did, but this was something paige always did when you two were in public, especially something that meant you couldn’t be home right away. she would say she thinks it’s funny to see you squirm with impatience, but you knew it was because she liked the aftermath. she liked how right when you would walk through the door, you would throw her against the wall and whisper something degrading in her ear because she just couldn’t wait.

especially tonight. while you two were getting ready and you were standing in front of the mirror trying to smooth out any wrinkles, she came up behind you to put her hands on your hips and press your bodies together. she muttered something in your ear about how she needed to fuck you right there, how she was throbbing and soaked just seeing you in that dress. how she wanted you to look in the mirror as she ate you out so you could see how pretty you looked. you debated giving her what she wanted, but you knew you couldn’t run late, because when paige gave you head, it was never quick. she was always begging for just one more, just let me see you come one more time.

well, you did kind of give her what she wanted. if dropping to your knees and eating her pussy until she was about to come, then pulling away, buttoning her pants back up, and telling her you better get going would count as what she wanted.

she patted your thigh lightly, then settled her fingers barely beneath the fabric of the dress you were wearing. you were at a somewhat fancy dinner with the dallas wings players, staff, and their significant others to celebrate the upcoming season–the regular season that started on friday, three days from then. 

you already knew you were going to fuck her when you got home, despite anything she was doing to make sure you finished the job from earlier. she looked so damn good, how could you not? she let you curl her hair tonight in soft waves, and she picked out a black short-sleeve button up with a pair of nicer black cargo pants, and sneakers, of course. you loved it when she wore all black, and she knew that.

“now?” you ask quietly, reaching forward to take a sip of your water without even sparing her a glance. 

she was being bratty like this on purpose, you knew it. she was probably still aching and wet in her pants, desperate for you to take her home and finish what you started. she had been shifting in her seat all night, constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to stay composed.

her eyes raked over you slowly, and not at all subtly, taking in the way you looked in that dress. it was black and fitted to your body, the neck low enough in a v to expose your cleavage. you had your straightened hair pushed behind your shoulders, too, meaning it was all on display. to anyone at the table, they probably thought she was spending extra time staring at your chest. maybe she did for a second, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on the necklace dangling from your neck.

she had randomly gifted it to you when you moved to dallas. she had muttered something about how practice was going to run long that day, but then came home with a small bag from a jewelry store. it was a dainty gold chain, and it was supposed to be a name necklace with the name written in cursive, but she had decided to get five on it instead. it was the perfect mix of possession and privacy for you, and you loved it.

“mhm,” she hummed. then she leaned toward you to whisper in your ear again, “you taste better than anything on this menu.”

your head quickly whipped to the side to give her a look, so quickly that naylssa and dijonai–who were sitting across from you–noticed. she barely had time to move her head, so your noses brushed when you did so. you glanced at the two teammates across the table who had returned their attention back to whoever was talking.

“yeah?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at her, almost in a challenging way, but she didn’t react. she had a big, goofy grin like she was proud of what she was doing and your reaction. if you weren’t in public, you probably would’ve grabbed her by the throat. 

she nodded smugly, her fingers squeezing your thigh slightly. “would do anything to fuck you right now.”

“keep running your mouth,” you warned, not even whispering. if any of her teammates heard you, they chose to ignore it. you couldn’t blame them, you probably looked like you were fighting.

“what are you gonna do about it?” she asks boldly, her grin never faltering. “because that’s not the only thing i’m gonna do w’it."

you leaned toward her slowly, your expression unreadable. “wait until we get home,” you whispered, making sure your lips touched her ear as your words spilled out.

she shuddered at the contact and her grin faltered slightly at the words, making you smirk. you placed a hand high on her thigh, squeezing tightly for a moment, almost as another warning. she clenched her thighs at the feeling, just happy to be touched by you even if it wasn’t exactly where she wanted it.

she didn’t dare to run her mouth anymore after that, knowing that it could jeopardize her ability to finally receive the orgasm she had been denied of earlier. you were a little disappointed by her obedience, though. you almost wanted her to keep going, so you didn’t feel bad about your intention to only give her one, maybe two, orgasms tonight after spending hours teasing her. that was something paige wasn’t used to. you were more into overstimulating her than edging her, loving the way she would whine beneath you because it just felt so good.

when you finally walked in the door to your apartment, you slipped off your shoes and walked down the hall to your bedroom without a word. she was stunned, standing there watching you go as she shut the door. usually in moments like this, you wouldn’t waste any time slamming her against the wall or the door, or maybe even pushing her down on the couch or onto her knees on the floor. she swallowed thickly, but followed you back anyway.

paige stood in the doorway, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. you moved around the room for a few seconds, pretending to look for something–pretending you didn’t see her. you quickly grabbed a hair tie from the dresser and turned to face her. her eyes shifted down to your hands then back up to your face, shooting you a questioning, but knowing look. she knew why you wanted the hair tie, just not why you were grabbing it right now. 

you smiled innocently as you walked over to her, slow and deliberate, and stood in front of her. she didn’t break her eye contact with you as you did so. you reached your hands up to gather her hair into a messy low bun, making sure that it didn’t look too crazy or have too many bumps. then, you smoothed your hands over her shoulders, then her chest down to her stomach, allowing your fingers to fumble with the buttons from the bottom up.

“you’ve been such a brat tonight,” you said casually, slipping her shirt off her frame. “i don’t know if you deserve me sitting on your face, baby.”

her eyes widened at your words, her hands coming up to grab your waist as yours slipped under her sports bra. “no, i do. please, i’ll be good. promise.”

you laughed gently at her words, using your thumbs to rub circles around her nipples. she whimpered at your touch, leaning forward to chase your lips in a kiss. which you allowed her to. she kissed you with intense, heated passion that you’re not sure you’ve ever felt from her before. it was something so desperate, telling you she was so ready to come, you’re not even sure you wanted to tease her anymore. she fisted your dress where her hands were settled, trying to pull you closer.

paige shouldn’t have expected you to let her. she knows better than that. you pulled away, well as much as you could with the way she was gripping your dress. her eyes didn’t leave your lips, though, her lips parted and breathing ragged as she waited for you to lean back in. you contemplated taking her bra off, but you decided to lower your hands to her pants instead–where there was a waistband to a pair of nike pros sticking out. you traced over the words with your pointer finger, making her sigh from her nose. 

“this for me?” you asked, tilting your head. the answer, you knew, was a mix between yes and no. yes, because she knew how hot you thought it was when you could see the logo poking out of her sweatpants, cargos, shorts, whatever. no, because she was more comfortable with them no matter what.

“everything i do is for you,” she replied quickly and breathlessly, like she didn’t even think before saying it–like an automatic response.

“is that right?” you chuckled, feeling your heart melt a little bit. 

to reward her for saying something so sweet, you grabbed her wrists to gently pry her hands off your dress, which she did immediately without much of a fight. you sunk to your knees slowly, keeping your eyes trained on hers. her pupils were blown with lust as she watched you, one of her hands rising to rest on the doorframe next to her. you used both of your hands to hook in the waistband of her nike pros to swiftly pull them and her pants down in one smooth motion, but left her underwear on. she carefully stepped out of her pants, mindlessly kicking them into the hallway behind her. 

you leaned forward to place kisses along the waistband of her underwear, sucking a hickey into the skin above it. her hips snapped forward against their will, the sensitivity from her denied orgasm really showing itself. you smiled mischievously, moving down to mouth over her clit that pulsing with desire through the fabric.

“fuck,” she breathed at the feeling. her unoccupied hand moved to rest on the back of your head, subconsciously pushing you closer. you considered mentioning it, punishing her for pushing you, but you decided that wasn’t as fun. “please, make me come. please, i’ve been waiting all night.”

you laughed against her, sending a vibration throughout her entire body that had her moaning softly, but you didn’t answer. it was too early to spoil the surprise. you traced your fingers over her entrance, feeling the wet spot. you had expected her to be wet, but not that wet. you almost pulled away to ask about it but she beat you to it. it was like she could read your mind.

“so wet for you,” she whined, “you look so damn good tonight. i can’t help it, wanna give you head so fucking bad. want you to sit on my face until i can’t breathe.” 

“aw, paige,” you cooed, like you were going to give her sweet words of praise, pushing her underwear to the side, “you’re such a slut, you know that? you probably would’ve gotten on your knees right there under the table if i asked.” 

you didn’t give her time to reply before your mouth was on her. the gasp that left her lips when you licked a flat stripe from her soaked entrance to her clit was so violent, you were surprised she didn’t cough afterwards. her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling harder than she probably meant to, but you didn’t mind. you actually loved it when she was so lost in the moment that she didn’t realize she was borderline ripping your hair out.

when you licked through her folds and over clit slowly, her hips jolted forward and she continued to try to grind it out, but you knew it probably wasn’t on purpose. she was always so sensitive anyway, and the denial from earlier definitely made it worse. 

you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked gently, using your tongue to trace circles around the bud after at a faster pace. her stomach would not stop flexing, almost sending her hunching over above you, but you didn’t let up. 

“shit. oh, fuck,” she moaned, her eyes pinching shut at the feeling. she pressed her hips forward, chasing the orgasm building in her stomach. “‘m gonna come already. feels too good”

even though you appreciated the warning, you already knew–not that it was hard to tell. she was making such pretty sounds, though, it took some mild internal convincing to pull yourself away this time.

“no, no!” she cried out, her hand trying to push your head back where she wanted it. “goddammit, please don’t stop.”

“come on, baby. you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” you asked innocently. you flicked her clit playfully causing her to flinch and her body to twitch. she threw her head back in frustration, trying not to groan out loud because she knew it would only prolong the release she is desperately waiting for.

you quickly jumped to your feet, leaning forward to crash your lips together again. she kissed you back hard, pouring every bit of anger and frustration she was feeling into it so hopefully you would get the point and finally give her what she wanted. without looking, you used both hands to shove her underwear down a little bit, and she got the hint. she hastily removed them without disconnecting your lips, throwing them behind you onto the floor somewhere. you pulled away, grabbing her wrist to pull her into the room. then spun her around so you could place your hands flat on her chest and push her onto the bed.

she propped herself up on her elbows, expecting to watch you put your mouth on her again or maybe even sit on her face finally, but you didn’t. instead, you hastily pulled off your dress and underwear. you ran your palms up her thighs gently while leaning over her body, still standing next to the bed, trying to be soothing and comforting as you decided what you wanted to do next. you couldn’t decide if you wanted to use your mouth, your fingers, your thigh–god, the possibilities were endless for making her squirm beneath you.

then, an idea popped into your head.

“can i use the strap on you?” you asked.

her eyebrows rose in surprise at your words. it wasn’t that either of you hated it per se, but it was something that was only brought out for special occasions, you would say. and on those rare occasions, you were usually the one receiving. still, she nodded slowly.

she stared as you bent down next to the bed to pull it out of the bottom drawer of the nightstand and strap on the harness. her pussy aching and dripping with desire, and she had an overwhelming urge to touch herself to try to relieve it. she didn’t, though; she wasn’t feeling quite as bratty anymore now that she’s had two orgasms ripped away from her and would probably have a few more ripped away if she kept it up too.

without wasting any time teasing, you touched the silicone to her entrance, covering it with her slick as lube. she whimpered at the feeling, leaning forward to watch. you grabbed one of her legs behind her knee to bend it, giving you a better angle as you pushed the tip in ever so slightly. her face contorted at the sudden stretch, pussy clenching, and you made sure to keep your eyes trained on her face to gauge her expressions. you almost had the urge to tell her to look you in the eyes, but it was so fucking hot that she wanted to watch, honestly.

“you okay?” you asked gently, brushing your fingers over her stomach.

“mhm,” she hummed, biting her bottom lip. 

you slowly rolled your hips to bottom out in one motion. one of her hands flew to press against your stomach, not expecting you to go so fast. 

“you can take it,” you said, grabbing her wrist and lacing your fingers together. you pressed her hand above her head against the bed, making her lie all the way down. the arm that she was using to pop herself up was now moving so she could rest her hand on your hip lightly.

you rolled your hips again, pulling all the way out and slowly pushing back in. her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the feeling and a loud moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it. the sound made you smile, knowing that she was in pure bliss because of you. her mouth stayed parted, like she was making sounds, but nothing was coming out. your hips fell into a steady rhythm, not slow, but not fast either–just enough to let her feel all of it.

“fuck, paige,” you moaned. “you look so pretty like this. taking all of me like a good girl.”

her hips bucked slightly, a high-pitched moan ripping from her throat. you accidentally snapped your hips forward roughly from the sound, causing her to gasp, her free hand pressing against your stomach again. you released the grip your hand had on her leg, moving to use your thumb to circle her clit.

“oh my god,” she moaned, her hand that was resting on your hip flying to grip your bicep tightly. “shit, i’m–fuck.”

“i know,” you said softly, “tell me how good it feels.”

“i-i can’t–please, let me–” she interrupted herself with a moan, her pussy clenching tightly around the silicone to try to will her orgasm away that was quickly approaching. you pulled all the way out, watching the way she clenched around nothing as she cried out from frustration beneath you. “fuck! please, let me come. i’m begging for it, please. i want it so bad.”

“you asked for this, baby,” you chuckled. honestly, you did feel a little bad about it while watching her cry out, but not bad enough to stop.

“i’m sorry,” she said, looking up to meet your eyes through her lashes. “’m sorry. i’ll be so good for you. just–please, let me come.”

without warning, you slammed the silicone back into her. her legs clenched from the unexpected fullness, her hand that was intertwined with yours tightening with a death grip on your fingers, and her eyes pinched shut tightly as her head came forward.

“this is what you wanted, right?” you asked quietly, using the hand that was on her clit to grip her throat and push her head back against the bed. 

her free hand loosened from your bicep to fall to your wrist, gripping it but not pulling it off. she would never admit it otherwise, but she loved it when you choked her like this. you didn’t do it very often, so she savored it when you did. despite your grip, she managed to nod at your words, not trusting herself to speak from how foggy her brain felt in pleasure.

you watched as tears slipped from her eyes when you sped up your thrusts, but she didn’t say anything. you weren’t even sure if she knew she was crying, either. her stomach and pussy clenched, and you almost had the urge to let her come because of her pure desperation. her orgasm was approaching much, much quicker than before, after the first three denied orgasms.

of course, you completely pulled out when her hips bucked up to chase her fourth. she cried out a choked sob, causing you to loosen the grip on her throat so she could breathe, and your other hand loosening on hers subconsciously. her hands flew to her face to cover it from her frustration as she sobbed.

“paige,” you said, gently caressing her sides with your hands. sure, you had made her cry during sex before, but never like this. “do you want to stop?”

“no,” she shook her head, voice muffled from her hands. 

“are you sure?” you asked, not really convinced because of her crying.

“yes. please, keep going,” she said with an exasperated tone, “i want to come.”

nodding, not verbally replying, you took the harness off and haphazardly threw it to the side.  you reached up to take her hands off her face, expecting her to fight you, but she didn’t. her face was streaked with tears, her mascara running down her cheeks. you leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. then, you slotted your thigh between her legs, pressing her soaked, pulsing pussy against the muscle. without asking for permission, she started slowly grinding against it. 

“you’re going to take what i give you,” you said against her mouth. she whimpered, already feeling herself wanting to unravel. “and you don’t get to come just because you want it.”

you moved your thigh away from her just slightly, making her grind against nothing but the air. she couldn’t even bring herself to say anything in complaint, just let out another violent sob at her fifth orgasm being taken away.

you leaned back so you were sitting on your heels, taking in the sight of her in front of you. she looked absolutely wrecked–cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, tear and mascara stains on her face, red marks where she was biting her bottom lip, god. you wondered how you had never thought of this before. 

she reached forward to grab your hand and shove it where she wanted it, not even caring about the potential consequences. you didn’t touch her though, stiffening your arm before it could. “please, please, make me come. i’ve been so good at taking it all. i can’t take it anymore.”

you pretended to think about it for a moment, then knelt down between her legs. you almost considered being stubborn and not giving it to her, but at this point, she would probably come just from you touching her even slightly. she quite literally sobbed from relief while watching you do so, throwing her head back against the mattress. you let your breath fan over her for a second, and she clenched when she felt it. 

when you finally flicked your tongue against her clit, her thighs clenched tightly around your head with an intense orgasm. she didn’t even make a sound as she gushed beneath you, her upper body hunching forward involuntarily. you continued to circle your tongue slowly against her clit though, working her through it. her hands clutched at the sheets until her knuckles turned white.

after about a minute when she started to come down, her entire body shaking, she realized you hadn’t stopped yet–but you didn’t intend to. her legs trembled around your head, stomach clenching and body jerking every few seconds as you continued to circle your tongue. her hands flew to your hair to scramble for purchase.

“wait, i’m–fuck, i can’t–” she said breathlessly with confusion dripping in her tone, tears slipping from her eyes again. 

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you said against her, making sure she could feel the vibration. “you wanted to come, right? do it again.”

she blinked at you with her lips parted like her mind was blank, like her intense orgasm had wiped out any potential for a coherent thought. you increased the pace of your tongue, trying to work her back up to that edge for another one. 

“i’m–goddamn, shit,” she babbled. 

it didn’t take very long before she was coming again with a moan, grinding her hips against your face involuntarily. her back arched off the bed, eyes rolling into the back of her head at the feeling. you worked her through it for a few moments before pulling away from her, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

she was lying against the bed, her arms thrown lazily over her face, chest heaving like she had just run a marathon, legs shaking helplessly. you bent down to press a kiss against her stomach gently, which she didn’t react to, then laid down next to her. 

“good?” you asked, throwing your arm over her stomach in a comforting manner. 

she didn’t move her arms to answer. “yeah,” she breathed. 

then, she spoke again. you don’t know why you weren’t expecting the words that came out of her mouth because it’s paige. she couldn’t do anything without returning the favor.

“are you going to sit on my face now?”

[f1cflcfic]

Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part xv

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons and/or events

series: part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv

bonus: one, two, three

July 7-8, 2025

[Excerpt: ATP and WTA Stars Take On "Nearest The Pin Golf" Challenge]

Y/N L/N steps up to the small green and then turns to the camera. "I just want to formally apologise to Lily in advance for messing this up."

The first few balls disappear into the water, but at least she's launching them in the right direction. Some of the other tennis players ironically struggle with even hitting the ball, or keep sending it far away from where it needs to land.

"Ugh, please tell me Casper didn't get this in one go," Y/N references one of the few tennis players that is pretty decent in golf. "I feel like it's almost impossible?"

Then she's asking if she can call a helpline. "It can't be a professional golfer, but it can be someone who thinks they are a professional golfer?" She grins slyly, then proceeds to call Carlos Sainz Jr.

"You know who is going to be so mad? Lando, for calling me instead of him," he can be heard saying in the background, before Y/N shows him the challenge. "I'll make it up to him, don't worry."

With another try, and some additional tips from Carlos, she manages to get the ball to bounce onto the lonely island with the pin on it. "I guess that's the best I'll do. Did I win? What did I win? Eternal glory? I'll take it!"

July 9-11, 2025

[Excerpt: Post-Semi Final Press Conference]

"ESPN here. Of course it's never fun to lose, but is there a part of you that feels relieved perhaps, knowing you can now fully focus on your individual tournaments?"

Jack shifts forward. "I mean there was only one other match to go. I'd have been more than happy to make that sacrifice and see if I could win two titles, instead of just the one."

Y/N nods along. "If we hadn't wanted to take this all the way, we wouldn't have committed to the tournament altogether."

"Hi, I'm with SkySports. Jack, you'll be facing Carlos Alcaraz next in your individual semi-final. Considering Y/N's history with Alcaraz, have you asked her for any tips on how to best handle him?"

There's some huffing in the room, and Jack seems to be slightly lost for words. "I - uh, no. I have not asked her for advice."

"And who will you be rooting for, Y/N?" The interviewer continues, making Y/N all but roll her eyes. "I think you know the answer to that, seems pretty obvious to me. But I'm mostly rooting for us to get better questions."

Another interviewer waves their hand. "Hi, I'm with Tennis News. Y/N, you could be just one step closer to your Season Slam if you manage to win this week. How do you switch between this loss and the next potential victory?"

Y/N smiles at that. "Well, I credit my team for it and my family and friends, first of all. But also, if you really want to be a champion - you have to learn how to take the losses. I think in this sport, but also probably in others, that to be a true professional athlete, it means you need to become good at losing. You can't be precious about them, or too superstitious or anything. Because you'll lose so much more than you'll win across your entire career. So if I couldn't deal with losing, I wouldn't be able to fight for the wins. Or at least, that's what I try to tell myself. I'm not always successful at it, but so far I haven't smashed a racket here," she jokes. "Thanks for the lovely question. More of that please."

A/N: pleased to share i have now caught up with the race weekend and have seen the video of lando walking into a wall, and it will 100% make an appearance in this fic at one point 🙃 next chapter features Lando at the Wimbledon final (obvi) and the aftermath or perhaps afterglow?? who knows?? :) :)

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @sarah-thatstings-ann @jessicanotta @fairyjinn @destinyg237 @verogonewild @annimausi @taetae-armyyyyy

[ak319]

Dark A.M x fem!reader

-- ★ The Word of Claim ┃ ─𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕─

Warnings/MDNI: none, jus' slight fluff Syno: Every nod was a step closer to betrayal, the kind that brings justice in cuffs and ruin. ✰ 4.4K +++ Arthur's pic by Innocence from Pin.

★ Prev I concept m.list

Your eyes grazed Dutch's form as he left he camp. Then to his tent. The urge to barge in to just find something, anything. Does he have the deed? Even if he does what's that gonna do for you? Will it?

Sigh.

"Needed another session with him?"

"No. Not his day today."

Your head whipped to the side to see Molly, to give her a quick fake smile.  You were currently sorting the vegetables, standing lazily against the wagon. 

"Why don't you dress nice. I mean, doing all these chores all of a sudden? Being from such a good household doesn't suit you-"

"I don't need someone to tell me what suits me and what does not. And I can wear whatever I want. Don't need to prove something to anyone."

"I just don't understand why you're acting like this when he's the one to blame." She referred to Arthur.

Right. She's still pissed at you for standing up to Dutch?

You let out a sharp breath, your patience hanging by a thread. "Yeah? Well, I blame everyone, and I'll keep doing it. What are you gonna do about it?"

Her gaze hardened as she stepped closer, the air between them charged. "You're blessed than most here, whether you see it or not. At least be a little grateful."

You scoffed, the sheer absurdity of her words making your skin prickle. "Oh, really? Blessed for what exactly?"

Her expression darkened, bitterness creeping into her eyes. "Some of us gave up everything for this life. For the people we love."

Wait… blessed, huh? Now it clicked. You thought, So she, like Mary the worm, probably thinks all this means something romantic. And perhaps wonders why Dutch didn't do the tradition for her. Judging by what Abigail has told you about their relationship, it seems like it....

Sad to be honest.

You both could have escaped together from such men. But seems like she's.....fine with it. Hurts to see it.

How many lives does this man plan to ruin? For what? To feed his ego?

You folded your arms, jaw tight. "I’m going to say this once and once only, so listen carefully. I’m not after Dutch or anyone else here. He's probably even older than my father. You can believe what you want, have as many doubts as you like, because clearly, they can't be removed by me, but I’m done explaining myself. So sit back and relax. Like you do."

"Don't ever talk about my personal affairs as if you know better, you dowdy dame!"

And with that she stomped away leaving you to sigh once again.

"What was that? You okay?"

You nearly jumped as Arthur appeared from behind the wagon, his voice cutting through the tense air.

"Was nothing," you muttered, brushing it off.

He mumbled something under his breath about her before turning his attention back to you, leaning in just enough that his voice was barely above a whisper. "I was thinking... let's go somewhere. Two of us. The weather's nice-"

"Mr. Morgan, just the man I need."

Arthur exhaled sharply, straightening up as the moment slipped away. He turned to face Strauss, who strolled up with his usual air of smug authority.

"Mr. Morgan," Strauss repeated, his tone clipped yet polite. His sharp gaze flickered between you and Arthur before settling on the latter. "I trust I'm not interrupting anything... pressing?"

Arthur scoffed, already irritated. "No..." 

Strauss clasped his hands behind his back, tilting his head slightly. "There's a debtor. A rather forgetful one. I need you to pay him a visit, remind him of his outstanding obligations."

Arthur ran a hand over his face. "Yeah? And where is this fella?"

"Not far," Strauss said smoothly, clearly pleased to have roped Arthur into another one of his errands. "Shouldn't be too difficult for a man of your talents."

Arthur sighed, shaking his head before glancing at you. "Figures."

Strauss, already convinced the job was settled, handed him the address and turned away without another word.

Arthur lingered for a moment, looking at you with a mix of frustration and regret. "Well, so much for takin' it easy."

His eyes wandered to your hand once again , his grip was firm but careful as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand, halting your work. His touch lingered for a beat too long, his thumb grazing your skin as his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to keep still as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. "Don't work on anything hard, 'kay?" His voice was softer than usual, almost careful, as if he were afraid you'd slip away if he wasn't gentle.

Then, before you could react, his hand traveled up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The suddenness of it made you flinch, just barely, but he caught it. His jaw tightened for a moment, yet his lips curled into something close to amusement.

"Real pretty...real damn pretty..." he murmured, almost to himself.

The words hung between you, heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed close, a suffocating sort of awareness and fear.

But then, just as quickly as he had pulled you into the nightmarish moment, he cleared his throat and stepped back, tipping his hat with a lopsided smirk.

"Take care, darlin'."

❀˖°

It was hard, still is, to feign acceptance, to cloak yourself in humility while clinging to a fragile thread you dare to call hope, and another, even more elusive, that masquerades as a plan. And circling this uncertainty and hope is a fear that was once foreign to you, a fear that never existed when he was just a friend.

Your unease grows in direct proportion to the risk: the danger that too much humility, too much quiet compliance, will lull everyone into acceptance, especially him. Acceptance of your new role. And once that happens, the next step is inevitable: being taken advantage of. That, above all, is what you dread.

So you balance, precariously, somewhere in between.

The weight of it is relentless, an invisible burden few seem to notice. But you do. You feel it with every breath.

"Here, Abby."

The brunette glanced up, momentarily startled, as if pulled from some quiet reverie.

"Oh, I was just craving some tea and--oh, wow. Are these chocolates? Thank you, (Y/N)!"

"No problem. Thought you would love some. Hey....that's a nice sweater.

"You think? I just hope it fits right." She looked lovingly at the little piece of fabric, playing with it's sleeves already imagining a baby in it.

Your ears perked at the sound of a dull thud from somewhere to your left. A quick glance confirmed it, he was just lifting the axe again.

Please, just keep doing that the whole day and stay out of my radius.

"Have a seat, (Y/N)," she gestured to the grass beside her.

You shook your head. "No... uh, I'm tired of always just sitting, y'know. I'll go...and...look for something to do..."

With a soft, fleeting smile, you walked off, lost in thought.

As you lazily, though inwardly frustrated, began chopping celery, you felt a gaze on you. You ignored it, pretending not to notice. But beneath the surface, there was something else.

A small, quiet sense of accomplishment.

That's right. Notice me adjusting like some pathetic 'wife'. One more dreadful step closer.

You just wished you knew what that Dutch bitch was doing. You have a vague outline, but it isn't enough. If he owns the land, surely he plans to use it in some way. Has he gotten the deed yet? He doesn't necessarily need it to start constructing, but still, has he started anything there? How does he plan to keep this from Arthur? And who else in camp knows he stole it from you?

"I hope you don't poison us all."

Pearson's voice cut through your thoughts, his usual dry humor dragging you back to the present.

"Not a bad idea y'know. I won't mind sprinkling some in if it's available."

"I think you should focus on chopping for now--GEEZ!! That is NOT how you cut a potato!"

The shape of the slices nearly gave him a stroke. "Have you been taught nothing at all?!"

"And you've squashed the life out of the tomatoes instead of dicing them- 'more cursing at your cutting skills, which you couldn't care less about right now '--give it here and learn if you plan to do it at all, missy."

"Actually, I don't."

You mumbled to yourself, stepping back, your eyes taking an annoyed roll, pretending to pay attention as he droned on about technique and precision.

Yeah. Very interesting.

Unbeknownst to you, Arthur stood a few steps away, watching quietly, his canteen paused at his lips. Water dripped down his bare chest as he drank with a thirst that went beyond mere heat or exertion.

He could see why Pearson looked so offended, like you’d just kicked a dog. A low, amused snort escaped him, muffled into his damp shoulder.

At least she’s willing to try, he thought, the unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest tightening with something almost like hope.

The sight of you, so unexpectedly domestic, caught him off guard. There you were, hands busy with vegetables, brow furrowed in a mix of annoyance and concentration. It was something raw, real.

Arthur’s mind raced with conflicting feelings. He hated the circumstances, the forced marriage, the bitterness between you, but moments like this made it harder to keep that hate alive.

This... this is what I want. Not just the fight, not just the anger. He swallowed hard. I want to see this side of you every day, even if you don’t want me to.

For a fleeting second, he let himself imagine a different life, one where you weren’t bound by chains of duty or resentment, where maybe, just maybe, you could be his in more ways than name alone.

His hand twitched, the urge to reach out, to touch, to claim, burning just beneath the surface, but he pulled it back, biting down on the bitterness and the ache.

Not yet. Not like this.

And damn it, he admitted quietly, there’s no sight sweeter than this.

"By the way, Mr. Pearson, why ain't you married? I think your cooking is not being appreciated by women. You need to work harder."

"Shut it and cut the rest like I taught you to, or go away. Here I am being nice and all cus' of Mr. Morgan and you-"

"God, stop being so emotional." They all have to just bring him in every conversation now huh?

You snatched the knife back, resuming your attempt at cutting properly, all while ignoring his muttered grumbles about having to work with damn jerks.

❀˖°

The evening air hung heavy with the scent of burning wood, the fire crackling lazily as the last remnants of daylight bled into the horizon. Camp had fallen into its usual lull, the occasional murmur drifting through the trees, interrupted only by the distant hoot of an owl.

Arthur dropped onto the log beside you with a thud, far too close for comfort. You didn’t need to look to know it was him. That scent, smoke, leather, and cedar soap, clung to him like a second skin. At least he’d bathed. Unlike most of the camp, he had the decency to show up clean before playing the part of husband.

"Can I have a sip?"

"No."

"Not even one?" he asked, already leaning forward like he might steal it anyway.

You curled your fingers tighter around the tin cup.

"Ain’t this marriage thing supposed to mean sharin’? You keepin’ secrets and tea now?"

You kept your gaze fixed on the fire, refusing to indulge him.

He sighed, long and theatrical. "Lord. I wed a cold-blooded woman."

"Correction. You forced a cold-blooded woman."

Arthur grinned, grinned, as though you’d told a joke. "Semantics."

The flames cracked, casting flickers of gold across his face. His eyes roamed your profile with idle interest, as if deciding whether to prod you further.

You finally glanced his way, just to glare. He smiled wider, tipping his hat back like he owned the whole damn world. Like he owned you.

"Y’know," he drawled, voice dropping as he leaned in just a little, "you’ll warm up to me eventually. All things do, sittin' too close to the fire."

"Don't call me a 'thing'. "

You moved your tea to the other side of your body, away from him.

And yet he didn’t leave.

You didn't even entertain him with a response this time, merely continuing to drink as he leaned in, chuckling softly against your side.

"Arthur?"

Ah. And here comes the bitch. Yes, now the family is complete.

The familiar deep voice made you both glance up. Dutch stepped into the fire's glow, his expression unreadable as he stared down at you.

"Yes, Dutch?"

"I'll be sending Mac and Davey, and occasionally Bill, to work on some farm owned by a jolly fellow. The boys agree, of course. Who doesn't want a stable income? No harm in boys moving their limbs instead of being completely useless, right?."

"Mhm. I can go too if you-"

"Oh no, no, boy." Dutch waved a hand dismissively. "We still got jobs to look after. You're needed here, and you already do more than I can ask for."

He clapped Arthur on the shoulder, his smile sharp. "Anyway, that's that. Thought I'd inform ya."

"Why not send John too?" Arthur suggested.

Dutch turned to him with a raised brow. "Marston?"

"Reckon he could learn a thing or two-"

"I'd be surprised if he even learns to eat properly." Dutch scoffed, shaking his head. 'Farm work demands responsibility, Arthur. You know that, right?'

"And he needs that."

Dutch let out a low sigh. "I can't, no one can, spoon-feed him that. If he wants to be responsible, he needs to act like it."

With a wary glance in your direction, he stalked off back to his tent.

You took another slow sip, letting the warmth settle in your chest as you leaned back slightly. "Is he planning something big or...this is just it?"

Arthur stretched out against the log, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the stiffness from the day's work. His movements were unhurried, easy, too at ease, like he had all the time in the world. "Don't know yet. Big score comin', I guess. He's unpredictable."

"Bank?"

"Could be anything. Bank, trains, a mansion..." He tipped his hat back, dusting it off with a slow, deliberate motion before sparing you a glance. Something was knowing in his eyes. "Someone's interested"

You frowned. "Huh?"

"You plannin' to go with me or somethin', darlin'?"

You scoffed, setting your cup down. "No. Just asking. Is that not allowed too?"

His lips curved slightly, amused. "Calm down, just teasin' you."

He shifted, draping an arm behind your back as he settled into a more comfortable position. His touch was casual, too casual, but there was a weight behind it, a presence you couldn't ignore.

His mind drifted.

What if he really didn't come back one day?

What would happen to you?

Would you even care?

The thought had been lurking in the back of his head for days now, gnawing at him when he least expected it. He should talk to Dutch. Maybe Hosea. Someone.

But for now, he just sat there, arm close but not quite touching, gaze flickering between the fire and you.

Yeah. He should.

❀˖°

One week.

One whole damn week of playing these stupid games, of keeping your head down, of being... mild? You didn't even know what to call whatever the hell this was. Maybe "fitting in" was the word. Maybe "pretending." But it had finally paid off.

Because he finally let something slip.

A train. Belonging to Cornwall.

That name struck a chord, familiar and unpleasant. You'd met the man before, back when you were seventeen, some high-society function your father had dragged you to. Back then, Cornwall was just another businessman trying to carve out his place in the market, still shaking hands and making deals instead of dictating them. Your father had helped him, connected him with contractors, given him a foothold. And now? Now Cornwall was drowning in wealth, far beyond your father's reach.

27th.

Next Saturday.

Shit just got good.

Please just remember me too Mr. Cornwall.

"Hosea?"

"Yes, son?"

Arthur settled onto the crate beside him, the flick of his lighter breaking the quiet as he lit up a smoke. He took a slow drag, exhaling as he stared off into the night. His gaze lingered on the dim glow from your tent, shadows shifting against the canvas.

"I was... thinkin'..."

Hosea closed his book with a soft thud, turning his full attention to him. He didn't miss where Arthur's eyes had been moments before.

"Go on. Everything alright?"

"Yeah... just... y'know, there's this job, and then there's always gonna be another, and another. But what if one day I can't... make it?" Arthur tapped the ash off his cigarette, jaw tensing. "What about-"

"Her?" Hosea finished for him, watching Arthur's shoulders stiffen. "Mhm. I think it'd be best to return her to her family. And first, you need to have some trust in yourself too, Arthur. Don't go borrowin' trouble."

 "But I can't help it. It's true and..."

Arthur let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face. "Her family... they won't take her back. You were there, right? When Dutch took her?"

Hosea sighed but... more so at the fact that he has to now lie to his boy.

 "I was. But, Arthur... a parent can never truly turn their child away when they're in need. I saw it in their eyes that night, love, not hate. They weren't angry. Just... disappointed, that too stemming from....forget it.  Anyhow,  disappointment fades. Time, son. It's all about time."

Arthur's chest rumbled with a quiet hum. His face twisted into something almost boyish, sympathy, doubt, a hint of shame. Hosea had seen that look before, too many times to count.

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, staring at the embers as he exhaled. "If somethin' happens to me... don't let her end up alone."

Hosea's gaze softened, his voice steady. "You have my word."

Arthur didn't answer right away, just flicked his cigarette into the dirt and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. After a long moment, he sighed.

"Thanks, old man."

Hosea patted his shoulder, the weight of understanding between them. "Anytime, son."

❀˖°

The sun cast a warm glow over the camp as everyone busied themselves with their tasks. It was one of those rare, quiet mornings, and Arthur had left just after breakfast, disappearing into the wilderness like he always did.

"Charles! Charles!"

The long-haired man turned, setting down his carving as he took in your heaving breaths. His eyes sharpened with concern as he stood.

"Abby, she's not feeling well. A lot of pain. She needs to be taken to the clinic."

"Um, Hosea-"

"He's not here. And please, we need to take her. Now."

"I can't take you, I mean, Arthur, "

"He won't mind! Just please, let's go!"

You ignored the glances from others, your heart hammering in your chest. No Bill (well, he's passed out drunk), No Hosea. No Dutch even. No one to stop you today. And even your trick worked perfectly. It was like the universe had handed you a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Everything was falling into place.

Charles hesitated only for a second before nodding. He could see it, the way Abigail clung to you, her body curled up in pain, her grip weak but desperate. That was enough. Without another word, he moved to help.

You patted Abigail's forehead gently, whispering, "It's gonna be alright, okay?"

Your fingers tightened around the satchel at your side, knuckles white with conviction. The words were meant for her, but more than that, they were meant for you.

❀˖°

The door slammed shut behind you, sealing away the murmurs of the waiting room. Once Abigail was settled in the chair, you wasted no time, grabbing Eddie by the arm and pulling her into a corner as the doctor began his examination.

"Thank God you're here today. Now listen, I don't have time to waste. Sedate her, stall her, do anything. Ask the doctor for help if you have to, but I'm running out that window. I have something I need to do."

Eddie's brows furrowed, a million questions flashing across her face, but she didn't argue. With a sharp nod, she turned on her heel and hurried toward the doctor.

For you, this was it. Now or never.

You cast one last glance over your shoulder. Abigail was behind the curtain, out of sight. The door remained firmly shut.

Perfect.

Without hesitation, you sprang forward, slipping through the window in one swift motion.

Then you ran.

The streets blurred as you tore through town, your breath coming fast and shallow. The postal office was just ahead.

The bell chimed as you burst into the post office, chest rising and falling with each breath. The clerk barely had time to look up before you slammed two sealed letters onto the counter.

"These-" You swallowed, composing yourself. "One goes to Leviticus Cornwall. Urgent. The other to the Pinkerton Agency."

The man behind the counter raised a brow, eyeing the crisp envelopes, the wax seals still fresh. "That'll cost you, miss."

You reached behind your neck, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your necklace. The delicate gold chain, one you had worn for years, slipped into your palm. It felt lighter than it should, as if the weight of it had already left you.

"This should cover the cost," you said, placing it down.

The clerk studied it, then nodded, pocketing the jewelry before grabbing the first letter.

But before he could reach for the second, you handed him a bundle of cloth, one with another necklace, the one that you wore at your wedding..

Absolutely priceless. Heavier, encrusted with jewels that caught the dim light. It was worth more than anything you had left. Your hands were adamant on not letting it go.

But you had to.

It's just a necklace (Y/N), a mere material, freedom is the only thing that's priceless.

"This," you murmured, "goes with the letter to the Pinkertons." 

The man didn't ask questions, to your surprise. Perhaps used to people sending leads of goons to the agency?

"Consider it sent."

You exhaled, a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

It was done. Now, you just had to make it back before anyone noticed.

❀˖°

Eddie and you stood solemnly at the side, watching over Abigail. She was still under sedation, her breathing steady, the baby safe. Thank God, nothing serious had happened. The worst had passed.

Meanwhile, Eddie had heard everything.

"You think... it'll work?" she asked quietly.

"It should. Neither of them would pass up the chance to wipe out this... disease of a gang. No one would."

Eddie exhaled sharply. "Still can't believe your fath-"

"Don't say his name right now," you cut in, your tone firm.

She hesitated but pressed on. "Yeah, but where will you go if..."

"I'll go back," you said flatly. "It’s not like they won’t take me in. Things won’t be the same, sure, but I’m not backing down."

You looked her dead in the eye now, voice steel.

"I’ll go and demand what’s mine. That’s my fucking right. And I’d love to see who thinks they can stop me."

You stood straighter, jaw tight.

"I won’t let go of my shares. I won’t let them pretend I never existed. They don’t get to erase me."

Eddie gave you a long look before nodding, wrapping her arm around you. "My doors are open for you, (Y/N). Always."

You barely had time to squeeze her hand in gratitude before Abigail stirred, a faint sound escaping her lips. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side.

"(Y/N)...? What..." Abigail's voice was groggy, her eyelids fluttering as she stirred.

"You're fine," you assured her gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "The baby too. Just a gastric issue, that's all. Nothing serious."

Your smile seemed to comfort her, though the sedation still clouded her mind. She blinked slowly, trying to process your words.

The door creaked open, and Charles stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning both of you. "What happened?"

You explained everything, your voice calm and steady as he listened, nodding along. His tension eased just slightly, though he still looked her over with concern.

Once the doctor handed over the prescribed medicine, the three of you set out, making your way back to camp.

❀˖°

The tent flaps rustled open, and you glanced up from your book as he stepped inside, the weight of the day evident in the way he moved. He began removing his gear, the familiar clink of buckles and leather filling the quiet space.

"Heard you went out today, huh?" His voice was even, but there was an edge to it.

"Oh, yeah. Abigail... she-"

"Yeah, she's the one who told me."

Thank God. At least she listened to you. You had counted on her words carrying more weight than Charles' explanation ever could. A pregnant woman pleading her case? Far more convincing.

Arthur sighed, settling down beside you as he reached out to scratch Suki behind the ears, his rough fingers idly tracing through the cat's fur.

"But that don't mean I liked it," he added, voice lower now, almost grumbling.

Oh no.

But honestly, quite a mild reaction. Just as you had worked for. If you hadn't...well, shit could have been worse so you are content with whatever this is.

"You won't go out with me, but suddenly you're a damn hero when it comes to her-"

"You seriously comparing yourself to her situation? I'm the only one looking after her, Arthur. Yeah, not even Susan cares for her the way she needs. You very well know that."

"But that doesn't mean you get free rein to just leave whenever you feel like it. She could've tolerated some pain until Hosea got back-"

"Are you serious?!"

Arthur clenched his jaw, struggling to put his frustration into words. It wasn't that he didn't trust Charles, but Charles was too damn soft. What if he let you go? What if he dropped you off somewhere and you never came back? The thought burned hotter than he'd admit.

No, he won't. He's loyal, decent.

"Just... forget it. Go bring me the food."

With a huff, you slammed your book shut and threw it onto his lap before storming out.

At least you listened this time. That was something.

Arthur let out a breath, shaking his head as he turned the book over in his hands. His lips twitched into a small, amused smirk. If nothing else, you sure knew how to make an exit.

❀˖°

The next evening arrived, and once again, he was preparing to leave. But tonight wasn’t just any other night, it was a big one.

Stepping out of his tent, Arthur found you leaning against a pole, arms crossed, eyes sharp as you surveyed the camp with that familiar air of quiet judgment.

Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his hand rough as it gripped your wrist, pulling you inside the tent. He didn’t just hold you, he clutched you, as if anchoring you to him, desperate to keep you tethered to this moment, to him.

His embrace was fierce, a silent demand disguised as a hold. His voice dropped low and gravelly, rough breath ghosting against your ear.

"Not gonna wish me anything?"

You almost scoffed, but swallowed it down, the sharpness in your throat too heavy. "Safe travels..."

His hand slid to the back of your neck, thumb trailing slow, deliberate circles over your skin, less reassurance, more claim. His gaze was dark, smoldering with something deeper, something that made your pulse tighten beneath his touch.

"I’ll be back before you even know it, darlin'," he promised, the words thick with meaning.

He moved closer, lips hovering near yours, the tension pulling taut, dangerously close, but then he pulled back, eyes burning with restraint.

Not tonight. Not now. Not when the stakes were so high.

But still, when he finally pulled away, there was something in his eyes, a quiet plea for you to say something. To let him believe you cared, just a little.

You gave him nothing but a slow blink. Curiosity mixed with...defiance. That was enough of a reassurance for him.

"...Yeah," he muttered after a moment, as if answering a question that hadn't been asked. His jaw tightened. "I'll see you later, darlin'. "

And just like that, he was gone.

May they all be gone for good.

─AN: Was it worth the wait? 👀 Interactions and ur thoughts bout the fic are always appreciated and a boost so don't be shy my pooks. To be added or removed from tag list u can always lemme know!

★ tag list: @m1stea @warmsideofthepillow03 @thatoneraeder @marzintears @nxttaru @cazzacarm @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @nulixity @poll-u @bajabish @cheesycheddarr @luzzbuzz @dilfsarelife @ninastyless @claire-is-here @replaythatrayrae @hopingtoclearmedschool @lain3iwakura @bashfulcowgirl87 @catjsashrine @bipolarbitties @lizynownow @littlebirdgot @heloixe @summerdazed @meheheasasa @necktattooed @jbrownta @mandalover2023 @ceza-141 @httpskuri @abigatorchomp @nalitali

[ivyheaven]

She just shook her head, trying to dismiss the explanations that surely only poured out because of her reaction (despite her best attempt to hide it). "It's fine, you really don't need to apologize. Just know that, I want to do these things for you." Laurel met his smile, and her lips gave away for a smile of her own. "I do like kids, they're great. Very funny too. I guess I just hadn't considered my own."

Inez didn't fully believe him. It was odd, he seemed truthful, but there was still something he withheld. She brushed the hair out of her face, placing loose strands behind her ear. The same way she could tell that he kept something, she also kn ew he wasn't going to budge right now. "I'm just glad you're okay."

His youngest sister was a breath of fresh air amongst the heavy feeling she'd been carrying since she found him in the hallway. They were both in agreement there - leaning into her just a smidge, "super special," she whispered to her. That was a good question, but her assumption was a safe one. So, she nodded a yes and smiled. "Yes, I'm a friend from school." Laurel couldn't bring herself to confirm or deny whether she looked sad, kids and their honesty though, she had no choice but to believe. "A story does sound nice, do stories help you feel better?" Inez turned back to look at her sister. "Don't worry about it sweetie pie."

Inez just listened to Isaac on the other end, knowing he had a lot to say before she'd even get a word in. When Eli requested the phone, she gladly handed it over, telling Isa to take it easy. Laurel was still catching up but knew private time with family was necessary. Still, she didn't expect her to warm up to her so quickly. Probably because she didn't understand everything that was happening right now. "Maybe you can tell me one of the stories you know," she shared with Emma, their hands swinging together as they walked out.

Isaac heard the phone being shuffled around until he finally heard Eli. He had to admit there was a wave of relief when he heard his voice, even if he was still worried and confused how this all happened so quickly and randomly. He remained quiet for a total of....one minute. That's all he gave to immediately react. "You're kidding me? How is that not a big deal?" And over a girl? This wasn't happening, were they back in high school by any chance? "Escalated, you're going out with her." On any other occasion, he'd congratulate his brother but not before teasing the hell out of him. But, right now, that train was far from the station. "Wait, this whole thing is because of a girl? Her roommate sounds like a fucking psycho, what the fuck. Give me a few days, I can be out there. That's fucking ridiculous."

It took a lot out of Isaac to bite his tongue and not say that, she should. This girl should feel guilty for putting his brother in this position. He'd never met her, but already, didn't really like her. "You should tell her," is what he settled on. "Don't worry about that. Well, the dad part...you should probably update that to one of us. But, everything else, don't worry. Our insurance is there, Inez has the information. She'll catch you up to speed. Just, try to stay out of trouble. Might be good to reevaluate if that...friendship with her is more trouble than it's worth." Some things were better off not being said over the phone. "Hey, cut it out. You're not a burden. We all got stupid family members, ours just fail to think before they speak. That automatically makes everything they say stupid and inaccurate." Did he still have a grudge against his family? Yes. "You call me when they decide to discharge you, alright? I'll be calling Inez anyway, to check in."

"Sorry, it's not you. It's just— I've been looking out for myself since I was born. I came into the family at twelve. I didn't grow up depending on anyone so you taking on that responsibility for me, I just don't want you to take that on for yourself. It's not fair to you."

He smiled softly and wondered if she didn't like kids. "Do you like kids?" Not that he'd break up with her over her answer but it would make it harder given Emma was the baby sister and he loved her.

"It was stupid. Plain and simple. I didn't go out wanting this and trust me I feel worse than I look." Inez wasn't gonna buy that he knew it. For now though it would have to suffice. Playing the blame game wasn't gonna help though he truly wanted to give Jenny a piece of his mind.

Emma smiled and moved closer to Laurel. "Nope never ever gets sick! He's special! Are you his friend?" She was curious to know what was her relationship with her brother was. "You look sad. Story will make you feel better." It always helped her. Looking up at her sister she frowned. "What happened?"

Eli could feel himself vibrate with anxiety. Getting inside his head helped him get through it as next thing he knew he was on his way back. Inez wanted answers and he wasn't going to want to give it to her. Though, he knew she wouldn't let it go. Wheeled back in he saw Laurel first and smiled. "Hey," as he said that he overheard his brother's voice and let out a loud sigh. Giving the gesture to inez to hand over the phone, he didn't wait. "Could you all give us a minute please?' He knew his sisters would understand but he gave Laurel a look to say he'd explain just give him a moment. Emma grabbed laurels hand and smiled. She giggled when eli told her he'd save her spot on the bed.

"Isa," he started but knew he'd get a shite ton of an earful. "It is not a big deal. I just got my ass handed to me. Jocks just wanted to put me in my place. We've kind of escalated things with Laurel." Isa and his sisters weren't in the dark about his non existent sexual endeavors. Until Laurel. "Things just happened one night and apparently jocks didn't love it. Her dormmate stuck them on me. I think she has an obsessive crush on her."

After a long minute of the long being silent he sighed. "I just couldn't tell her. She already feels guilty and this wasn't even her fault. It just got a little bit complicated now. My emergency contact was dad. I don't expect you to risk your necks for me. The most important ones are inez and Emma." He'd always put them before himself. They considered him a brother but he knew how the world and their family saw him. He wasn't kidding himself. "I don't want to be yet another burden on the family." Though they all made him feel part of the family, he still carried overhearing being called a burden with him.

[asexualbookbird]

Okay. So May. Happened. I had a lot of birthday fun and fun with friends. The month was a friend sandwich with The Horrors in the middle. At least I managed to read a lot, with thanks to audiobooks. I spent a lot of time sewing, which means I spent a lot of time listening to books. And a many good books this month at that! Step aside, Horrors, fantasy escapism is here!

Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klaus ⭐️⭐️ - Hm. This book sure is from the 90s. This is why I never reread favorites from my childhood, they rarely hold up. It is refreshing to see the woman (lol she's seventeen) be the unhinged stalker for a change, but Vivian. Girl. What the absolute shit are you doing. I finally feel brave enough to say The Movie Is Better, but now I'm scared that's bad too. My original rating was five stars, and I kept that rating on goodreads for nostalgia's sake, so no real rating here except also it's a two star book.

After the Forest by Kell Woods ⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Fine. That's all I really feel about this. I thought things Just Happen to Greta and was annoyed about it until she said "I'm tired of doing nothing, actually" and took action, but that was the last quarter of the book. I don't know, I mostly enjoyed reading it, might read it again, but it's really Just Fine.

The River Has Roots Amal by El-Mohtar ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - An absolutely delightful nugget of a book. Illustrations? Beautiful. Writing? Wonderful. Characters? Delightful. Loved every bit of this, would read again in an instant and I almost did.

The Bone Maker by Sarah Beth Durst ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Reread! Still love it. Is it heavy handed? Yes. Is it fun? ALSO YES. This is one of those books where I am ignoring all flaws because I love the characters and their dynamic so much. Still my favorite depiction of bone magic.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid ⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Overall fine and enjoyable, but nothing special. I think most people may have been blown away because they've never read a book about a queer woman before. I find it hard to believe that a bisexual woman from the 50s, who lived through the AIDS crisis, would've never uttered or heard the word queer before. I'm glad I read it, but I won't be repeating the experience.

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Fantastic. Delightful. Heartbreaking. This was technically a book club book, but for reasons I don't remember I missed that meeting and didn't read the book. Foolish of me, to be honest. I was missing out. It's interesting that I read this so close to After the Forest, because I think that tried to do similar things and failed. I enjoyed this so much more and how it focused more on Vasya's relationships to everyone and everything around her rather than a Love Interest. I love that despite it all, I do in fact feel bad for The Evil Step Mother. The writing was melodic and makes me excited to read The Warm Hands of Ghosts.

Inheritance by JC Jones ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - My friend wrote a short story! He put his heart on a platter for the world to read, and I am honored to be one of the first.

Metal From Heaven by August Clarke ⭐️⭐️⭐️½ - waffling between three and four and even three and a half feels odd somehow. I loved the genders going on here, loved the anger and the grief. It did some meat things with POV, too. I think the comps do this a real disservice. I could come up with a half dozen things that are better fitting than Princess Bride and Gideon the Ninth. Parable of the Sower, The Unspoken Name, Leech, to name some. It's not a bad book, and I read whole chapters multiple times. I even reread the first quarter of the book once I got a better feel for things. It feels disjointed somehow, and maybe that's intentional but it didn't quite hit right with me. I'll probably read it again regardless, I'm curious if my opinions change.

The Girl In the Tower by Katherine Arden ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - Against my better judgement, I have been bamboozled by a charismatic man. You know I'm having a good time when I almost immediately go to the next book in a series. Some good gender presentations going on here and a wonderful example of social dysphoria (with a cis main character!) I'm in love with the horses, and especially Solovey. Finally, some good fucken fairytale retellings.

The Winter of the Witch by Katherine Arden ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Crying. Sobbing. Screaming. The cyclicalness of it all. You know it's good when I not only finish a series, but do so in a timely manner. And a fairytale retelling, of all things. I was crying at the beginging because they killed my fave. I was crying at the end because they brought him back. I want to reread this whole series immediately.

I'm also halfway through The Art of Destiny (a buddy read!) which is going slow, but well. I kind of like the slowness of it all, to be honest. So I look forward to finishing that in June. Book club is soon too, so I get to read Katherine Arden's other novel which I am now SO hyped for. I'm almost done with my sewing project, which means I will once again be able to do Fun Art. A couple friends say I should get into furry art, so I don't know, maybe I'll dabble in that. We'll see! This post is long enough so as always, Be Kind <3

[datvtranscripts]

The Crossroad Ambients

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain

The Crossroads Masterpost

Rook: Wait. The lyrium dagger's… vibrating. Like a song in a wine glass.

Rook passes the tree again.

Rook: Are those voices?

Rook interacts with the tree in the Crossroads.

Elgar'nan: Striking the Crossroads without forethought would be folly. The rebellion controlled it for far too long. Its defenses will be artfully hidden.

Ghilan'nain: You will not press? Our forces are cunning and sharpened.

Elgar'nan: Fen'harel's spite is endless and his trickery not easily overcome. He will have traps in wait. A Crossroads in ruin is no good to us.

Rook: That was Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. Were we… eavesdropping on the past?

Isle of the Gods complete: Rook: We must have been. Ghilan'nain's gone.

Bellara: Here in the Crossroads, the dagger must be able to… overhear them. Just a little.

Davrin: It makes sense for Solas—his dagger, his enemies, his way of spying on them.

Emmrich: The dagger must catch and amplify their influence here. Ingenious, really.

Harding: The dagger… of course Solas found a way to spy on the other gods.

Lucanis: It's Solas's dagger. He must have had a way to spy on his rival gods.

Neve: The dagger must amplify these… echoes. Letting Solas spy on his rivals.

Taash: Handy dagger. Stabs and eavesdrops. No wonder everyone wants it.

Rook: Let's hope it doesn't work both ways.

—

Rook passes by the tree again.

Rook: Shhh. We can eavesdrop again.

Rook: The voices again.

Rook: The dagger's resonating again.

Rook: Listen.

—

Ghilan'nain: Untold years asleep, only to see our sanctums defiled. Even Arlathan is trampled by cast-offs and mortals. We must secure the eluvians.

Elgar'nan: We shall. The Antaam are uneasy in the Crossroads, but they know their duty.

Ghilan'nain: If they fail, give the best-preserved to me for improvement.

Have not fought Antaam in the Crossroads Rook: The Antaam. So they're somewhere in the Crossroads, too.

Have found Antaam in the Crossroads. Rook: Dead Antaam? We're already on it.

—

Elgar'nan: Delays. So much more could be accomplished from the Vhen'Theneras. Solas raised that beacon in mockery of my own tower of learning. The disrespect…

Ghilan'nain: Do not dwell upon it, Elgar'nan. The Lighthouse is but one wonder we shall reclaim.

Elgar'nan: It will be remade. And all traces of Fen'harel erased from its walls.

Isle of the Gods complete: Rook: Ghilan'nain. We really are listening to the past.

—

Isle of the Gods complete: Elgar'nan: It is not enough to slay the artist. They must see your works destroyed as well. Petty, small-minded… blind to the wonder and beauty of your creations. Dearest sister, I then offer this to your memory: If your genius does not survive, neither will those who disdained you.

Isle of the Gods not complete: Elgar'nan: But surely the knowledge you gained…

Ghilan'nain: My champions offered themselves willingly. More works of precision laid low before finding their full potential!

Elgar'nan: You will have new subjects, in recompense. Whatever you wish.

Bellara romanced Ghilan'nain: Rook's foolish tinkerer toys with our old works. Let her be flesh-bonded into a Sentinel's armor. Bellara: Rook. She means…

Davrin romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's dearest Warden. He is half blighted already. I would see if I could make him crave griffon flesh. Davrin: Let her try.

Emmrich romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's necromancer. An excellent subject to test how long one could go back and forth between life and death. Emmrich: Don't listen to her, dearest. It won't come to that.

Harding romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's Titan pretender? There are many things I could do with one so tied to the stone. Harding: She's not saying what I think she's saying, is she? She probably is.

Lucanis romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's assassin. His flesh could be given true wings. And a face that better suits one who carries a demon. Lucanis: She is welcome to try.

Neve romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's delver of the truth. A mage who would provide me with both blood and ice from her veins. Neve: Rook. She means…

Taash romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's fire-breather. I would see if there is enough dragon blood in their veins to begin a new Archdemon. Taash: She can try.

No romance: Ghilan'nain: Rook's companions seek to fight as one. Combining their traits into a single form would be edifying.

Elgar'nan: Inspired. Consider it done.

In romance: Rook: If they touch you, death will be the least of their problems.

Not in romance: Rook: Ignore them. We're taking these bastards down before they ever get the chance.

—

Ghilan'nain: What of your dreams?

Elgar'nan: A discordant refrain. And shadows. Nothing more.

Ghilan'nain: In our prison, there was more. I dreamed the songs of the living abyss.

Ghilan'nain: And now, masked eyes across the sea. A storm that drinks the sky…

Elgar'nan: The future is intangible. Only the past and the present matter.

[degenerata69]

I'm thinking on just how doomed the relationship between Sae-Byeok and Sang-Woo was.

Sang-Woo overhears that Sae-Byeok saw a hint of what the next game could be. From there, he spends the whole night and morning considering how he should approach her.

When he does, he finds out that she is similar to him: reserved and untrusting. So, he convinced her by stating how he grew up playing those games and if he could figure out what would be the next game be, she could follow behind and benefit from it.

They didn't have many interactions after, but they didn't need to exchange words for Sae-Byeok to know that trusting Sang-woo's intuition was the best thing she could do to get far.

She followed behind in both dalgona and the glass stepping stones, and likely joined Gi-Hun's group in part out of the familiarity Sang-Woo gave, knowing he would figure out the best outcome, and that benefited her indirectly.

She is still very untrusting, and Sang-Woo recognizes this. When they made the barricades to keep each other safe, he suggest how there would be two people doing the nightwatch to avoid betrayal. Ensuring a sense of safety for everyone, specially for her who was very vocal about it.

I wonder how big the argument between Sang-Woo and Gi-Hun was on her.

Unlike Gi-Hun, her morality was dubious. She was part of a gang, she knew how to use weapons, she probably saw blood on her hands in more than one occasion. Seeing Sang-Woo murder someone in front of her eyes wasn't something that would torment her, and she could interpret the nuance better than Gi-Hun, for sure.

But the words "we are only here because he could tell the tiles apart" [we are here because the help of others] must have made her reflect.

After all, it was thanks to them she has made it so far. They both protected her from Deok-su, they won a strength game against all odds because of their leadership and strategy, following behind Sang-Woo helped her survive two games. And they never asked her to return the favor.

She wasn't naive and knew that at that point, Sang-Woo was a threat to her, but she was already dying.

She wasn't interested in pursuing self-preservation as she did when entering the games, and she wasn't interested in "winning" (she would not make it), she just wanted her brother to be taken care of, as she could no longer provide that for him. And while she didn't knew neither Sang-Woo or Gi-Hun on a personal level, just by their interactions, she knew how deeply they cared for one another.

Her telling Gi-Hun to not kill him wasn't on her best interest, but she knew that Gi-Hun would regret murdering his friend, so she adviced against it, and she was right.

Seeing how her life faded away, the only way she could do to pay them back for all they did for her was to not fight anymore. Sang-Woo, disgracefully, accelerated her death, but I don't think she was tormented by it. She already let Gi-Hun know her only wish.

While Sang-Woo's actions were irrational, guided by the thought that after all the death and sacrifices they made, they would leave with nothing but the guilt in their hearts, he murdered her after seeing her moribund state. The loss of blood and her unresponsiveness must have made him conclude it was the "best" thing he could do for her (and he would benefit from it).

But we saw how shaken he was by the actions he wanted to believe were justified. How he regretted doing it immediately after, because, he too, wasn't that type of person.

**EDIT** just found this article and 😭.

[threegoldfish]

Shit, isn't all of that sounding oh-so-similar to what Steven would say? Animals are living beings, and we have so much other stuff to eat, so why not going vegan? Yeah, all of that. Marc has never really cared much about that, never will care, but... he can understand it, gets why some people chose to change their way of living in such a way.

---He just likes his occasional steak way too much to give up on it. Call him simple-minded in that regard - it is what it is.

So Marc just hums out a low noise of acknowledgement - but closes his eyes again, allows a wave of darkness to flood his senses. It helps with the headache, to just... not focus on anything for a while there. The ice-pack is moved around - away from his temple to the front of his forehead, and then, very carefully so, to the bridge of his nose.

... He likes Jenny, Marc decides then, quietly, to himself. She seems to be funny, and certainly knows how to tease the OCD-doctor in her very own way.

It's also quite nice to hear someone laugh, honestly. Ever since having been admitted to this psych ward, he's never seen anyone laugh - ever. Which ... yeah, well, there's a reason for that, he supposes. But when everything is so damn white and clean and sterile and cool and flat, you just start to miss happiness... as much as Marc has never expected to ever miss anything about that emotion, truly.

Besides that, the nurse had just left to get him a cup of coffee. Just like that. Huh. That's... very kind indeed. Marc did not expect her to do that, nor had he attempted to make her think he's asking her to do such to begin with.

"Fuck, she didn't need to do that..." A whisper, even though Jenny's nowhere close, not anymore. Dark eyes are blinked open again, with Marc looking back over at Harrow as he keeps the ice-pack resting carefully against the side of his nose. "Do I want coffee? Yeah, I do. But... man, she's a nurse, not, like, someone to bring coffee to others. She better be getting a damn raise for that." ... Marc feels a bit guilty here, and he bites his bottom lip.

Fuck, everything still tastes like iron. He needs to clean up as soon as he can...

Another blink, a sigh, and Marc's gaze flicks away again, followed by a huff, a brief shake of his head. Does he need to go to a hospital with this? Definitely not. It's his own fault, after all, for suffering from this bullshit to begin with. And, next to that...

"---I'm already at a hospital, ain't I?" yes, yes, he knows the difference between a hospital and a mental hospital. He's just being a bit of an ass here, once again. "I'll be fine. Guess I'll just have to... take it slow today. Sleep and all of that bullshit, as soon as I can lie down again. Perhaps put one of those nose-bandages on... it will keep it in place and that damn bone can heal on its own."

A shrug, another side-glance at that doctor next to himself.

"They don't do surgery for that kind of bullshit - not unless you have your nose, I dunno, shattered into pieces or whatever. Yeah. This? Probably just a bit of a crack. Give it a push at the side to bring it back into position, then put that mentioned nose-bandage on top... boom, done. Will look funny, take a while to heal, but it's fine."

...

"...And my head? As said, I'm stubborn. Concussion will go away on its own. Last time it happened to me, I puked all night."

Jenny chuckled again, pushing away and standing up from her chair. She gave Arthur a brief look, a glance that communicated something silently. Arthur returned it with a brief raising of his eyebrows before looking away, not saying anything. 

“God help us if he does take your job,” she teased. “He’s got the cranky-before-coffee part down, though.” 

Arthur made a gesture with his hand, flippant. “Well, maybe he’ll end up being someone who can help me with the library, then.” 

Jenny let out another little laugh, one that was more snort than anything else. “I’ll be back with some coffee,” she promised to Marc. 

She offered Arthur a quick wink on the way out, her footsteps retreating down the hallway. Arthur allowed the silence for a moment, his fingers idly tapping again against his cane; it only took him a moment to notice the pain that Marc was suffering through. Arthur stayed close, though kept his hands at a fair enough distance, not wanting to crowd him. 

“… I guess that makes sense,” he answered. “When you’re cold, hungry, being shot at, I guess all you’d care about is getting calories. Calories and luck.”  He couldn't relate to it, not truly; he supposed that food was just different, when you'd lived in an area that required raising the animals you ate. Never having to assign it a face was a blessing in remaining ignorant to the cruelty of it.

“I went vegan a long time ago,” he continued. “It’s not because of anything mental, though that’s a nice guess. Just… animals. I care about them, they know things. They feel things. Some of them are afraid for every second of their lives - I don’t think I could ever eat one without thinking about that.” 

He wasn’t preaching, nor was he trying to convince Marc to join him in anything; it was said the same as explaining the weather, or discussing a book. 

“… But you’re the one I’m worried about, right now - you need to tell me if you get dizzy, or your vision is off. We can take you to the hospital, if you think you need it.” The last thing he wanted was Marc suffering through pain just because he didn’t want to share it. 

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

medialog may 2k25

books

edith wharton, the house of mirth - first reread since high school, even better than i remembered (although the early stuff with rosendale is also even more antisemitic than i remembered lol). lily bart really just one of my favorite characters in all of literature… girl too pretty to get a job but too possessed of a certain inner spark to marry out of her money troubles, trapped by her circumstances, doomed by her upbringing, suffering as much for her occasional flinches away from the expected course of her life as for her desire to walk to its end… this book just rules

sofia samatar, a stranger in olondria - cozy and pleasurable to read in a way that put me in mind of some childhood fantasy reading. i really love samatar’s prose and i admired how meticulous her worldbuilding was, as well as how expertly she seeded exposition into the book, but i don’t know that i was ever fully grabbed by this… glad i read tender first because if i’d read this i’m not sure i would have felt a need to seek more samatar out and then maybe i never would have read tender and learned that this book is like a tenth of what she can do.

jeremy gordon, see friendship - i really wanted this to be a third-time’s-the-charm thing for me and novels by people whose internet nonfiction i like, but, alas, it was Merely Okay (although i guess that still puts it in first place in that niche genre for this year?). i think the premise is pretty good — magazine writer feeling pressure to Do A Podcast learns that high school friend’s sudden death wasn’t from natural causes but from a heroin overdose, decides to pitch a podcast on investigating the story — but the execution was just kind of whatever… the novel is written in a very bloggy/internet nonfiction style and in theory this makes sense given the protagonist’s vocation but in practice while it was easy to read i felt like it also kept me from ever really feeling anything for any of these people… the observations felt like blog observations and not like things a novelist was telling me or realizations or feelings or thoughts characters were having. it hit its beats but faintly, feeling more like an outline of a story than a real one. i felt like it didn’t dig enough into its potential conflicts, everything sort of resolved too easily… i read an interview with gordon where he said something like, unlike his character, if he got the sense his continued employment depended on making a podcast, he would probably keep doing what he was doing until he was fired, and i feel like the vibe of that casualness seeped into the book even though on paper the protagonist didn’t want to get fired. all the character voices sounded basically the same… i also felt a certain, hm, debut novelist anxiety about needing to articulate reasons for doing or thinking or saying things that didn’t really need to be explained (i recognized this as a habit i have to fight in myself at times lol). idk. didn't land! will say i got nervous seeing blurbs on the cover from brandon taylor (the first disappointment in this category this year!) nd lauren oyler but was like well authors don't get to control their blurbs... but then in the acknowledgements he names oyler as a friend. so. alright. lmao.

kai bird & martin j. sherwin, american prometheus: the triumph and tragedy of j. robert oppenheimer - obviously a huge achievement (research for the book, which was published in 2005, started in the 70s…), and a solidly written one. i had a phase in high school where i was watching the “i am become death” clip on youtube a lot so i think i’m kinda the target demo for this but i was pretty into it throughout… comparing to the last Tome Biography i read, which was david skaal’s book about bram stoker, i would say i found the digressions less interesting but the central “character” about a billion times more entertaining, which i think is a big part of the book’s appeal… oppenheimer was just such a presence (complimentary and derogatory at the same time), according to everyone who ever met him, and the book seems to capture both what made him so enthralling to those who fell for him and what made him so unbelievably annoying to other people. the authors clearly have a lot of admiration and even affection for their subject (often calling him “oppie” in the narration lmao), but i found them also pretty fair-minded about his flaws, both interpersonally and in terms of his post-war stumbles in attempting to influence nuclear policy… although the context they provide also suggests that this may have been a fairly doomed prospect all along. speaking of context, i liked how clearly, almost exasperatedly, the book emphasizes that hanging out with communists in the 30s was literally the most normal thing in the world for anyone even a little left of center… and the stuff about strauss’s anti-opp crusade really made me feel like if anything the movie underplayed just how much this guy was victimized by the US government in really astonishingly illegal ways!

emily witt, health and safety: a breakdown - my impression of this book was that it was a memoir of getting into the rave scene and finding it unexpectedly transformational, and it was that but also it was kind of just the story of the last like ten years of witt’s life? witt is a very good writer sentence to sentence but i felt like as a book it could have used a little more shaping… but maybe i just didn’t want to read a journalist reflecting on the first trump era / COVID / 2020 protests because i have read that 1 million times including in real time as it was happening. i almost found myself feeling at those parts of the book like i did a million years ago when i read david levithan’s book about three teens living through 9/11, which was like: well i didn’t really get anything out of this because i was like, there, but in ten years people who were very young or haven’t been born yet will be able to read this book and get a sense of what it felt like. i liked the rave stuff because i like books about scenes, perhaps because i am constitutionally incapable of belonging to one myself, and liked her writing about the way listening to techno while on drugs made her feel, the idea that techno kind of broke up reality in a way closer to that of poetry than of prose, that it offered in her phrasing (iirc) “not meaning but space”... i feel like i wanted more of that, as well as more of her disillusionment/distance with the social circle she had when she met the boyfriend who got her into the scene, which sounded interesting but didn’t get delved into. i dunno, she sort of fell for this guy and dropped or change a huge chunk of her identity, and i wanted some more reflection on that and maybe less on what it was like covering parkland even though that was interesting too… but like interesting in a way where maybe these should have been different books. i also… this is possibly straying out of my lane. but. the romantic relationship that gives the book its spine wound up coming to a really brutal end in which the guy spends lockdown smoking catatonia-inducing amounts of weed, gets brutalized at a protest she asks him to come to while she escapes with her press badge, and then spirals into a pretty severe manic episode. and… i feel like… perhaps the book would have benefited… from her not writing about this like… three years after it happened. idk. i do actually know, thankfully only in short-term form, how destabilizing it is to try to have any conversation with someone who is severely manic with twinges of psychosis, and how even as part of you knows something is seriously medically wrong reality has become so bizarre so quickly that you find yourself still trying to engage with them like they can have a conversation and taking their comments personally. and i can’t imagine how much more traumatic and terriyfing that would be if it were happening to me via my partner that i lived with during a pandemic (and she actually captures this quite vividly). and it does sound like his post-breakup behavior was annoying and like he too perhaps had not processed this period of his life particularly well. but… i dunno. it felt fresh in an odd way. (i also kind of agree with the goodreads reviewers who are like, it’s a little weird that she doesn’t link this outbreak to his years of heavy drug use and especially the months of constant pot smoking beyond a line about how not everyone who travels this road makes it out or whatever.) idk. just my onion!

carmen maria machado, in the dream house - really liked this one! the stories in her body and other parties were sort of hit or miss for me as stories, but i like her a lot as a stylist - i think her prose is simple with a very elegant ear, and she and i clearly have some overlap in aesthetic sensibility that makes her sentences very pleasurable. and in this case i also thought the book as a whole was a success. the central conceit functioned both to create formal interest and at times to really effectively dramatize the emotional core of the narrative - i especially looooooved the running footnotes linking moments in her story to tropes from fairy tales and folklore, i thought that was so cool and sometimes incredibly poignant. rare buzz book w!!!

maša kolanović, underground barbie (trans. ena selimović) — i LOOOOVED this book omg!!! it’s a first-person novel, or maybe a collection of vignettes, about a young girl at the start of the yugoslav wars, in what is in the process of becoming croatia (NB: i have like zero geopolitical context and did some start-of-book googling to grasp the basics here lol). the book’s incredible innovation is that it focuses almost exclusively — like, truly, i would estimate 95+ percent of the time by sentence count — on what is most important to this kid at this juncture in her life, which is… the sprawling, highly involved, increasingly deranged narrative web she and her friends spin across their afternoons playing with their barbies. the stories play out, by and large, as stories about the barbies (and, more and more over time, as stories about dr. kajfeš, the mauled off-brand ken who emerges as a sort of freak hero and carries much of barbie world’s gleeful weirdness and occasional brutal violence). i mean: WHAT a concept! i’ve really never read anything that captured childhood in this specific way except for, like, the scene in sally j. freedman where she plays concentration camp (you could not publish that in a children’s book today but judy blume is a genius)... the monomaniacal focus on what the barbies are up to only sporadically interrupted by a hint of the devastation spreading across the region is so darkly funny but also honestly kind of moving to me because of what a dedication it shows to a certain kind of honesty (through exaggeration — but honesty nonetheless) about the world of children and the belief that it’s worth articulating. also there are adorable little drawings throughout!!!! really really great book strong recommend

movies

down with love — ok i actually watched this months ago but forgot to put it in my media post so am putting it here now. anyway rewatching this for the first time since high school, having since actually seen some romantic movies made before 1995 lol, i found it as delightful as and considerably more impressive than i remembered. looks amazing incredible performances really funny smart gender stuff but all in the service of giving everyone a good time and sending us home happy. i love to have fun!! when i was in high school a friend of mine watched this and said she didn’t like it because she found the twist unbelievable and that’s a core memory for me because it’s the first time i can remember recognizing that it was possible for a person to just completely miss the point of a movie they had watched.

minority report — this movie is weird and like kind of gross and unpleasant but also kind of zoomy and fun… it’s alright. great cast tho

the accountant — sat on the couch doing some digital chores/work while n. watched this. kind of weird as a movie in that it’s like, not really smart in the way that movies this focused on documents usually are or aim to be, but also not that heavy on the ass-kicking for an action movie (which is what i was expecting based solely on the trailers for the sequel)... i’m not sure about anna kendrick. like, her whole deal. but i think the concept of “you know those movies about extremely autistic-coded characters whose secret autism basically gives them superpowers? what if we did that but the guy was autistic in canon?” is sort of inherently an intriguing pitch? and i do feel like it could have been about 500 times more offensive than it was.

mission: impossible—fallout — most awesome movie of all time i will not be taking questions

mission: impossible—dead reckoning — not as great as fallout but improves on every viewing for me… i really love how slapsticky and fun all the setpieces are. hayley atwell is sooooo hot in this but also really great at doing action choregraphy/blocking while maintaining the physicality of someone who is not in this life and hasn’t done this before.

the house of mirth — i said on letterboxd that this was probably the closest i’ll ever feel to how die hard marvel people felt watching RDJ’s tony stark for the first time… it’s such a faithful adaptation of the book that i almost feel like it would be totally opaque if you haven’t read the book because everything happens the same but you’re missing the significant portion of the text that is wharton explaining to us why things are playing out as they are. but i know at least two people who really liked it without having seen it so i guess it works if you’re a movie person? for me i was just like wow yeah i love watching my favorite book suddenly turn into a movie… it’s just the book but now i can watch it… i’ve really never had that with an adaptation before. also casting gillian anderson as lily bart (1) really convinced me the x-files hair department should be brought up on criminal charges, the pics i’ve seen of her did NOT familiarize me with her game (2) is really really inspired given that one of lily’s defining traits is that she is so pretty it’s like a superpower that also ruins her life because like... yeah... tru... eric stoltz reeeeally captures selden's charm that captivated me at 17 and also his self-satisfaction that drove me insane as an adult. laura linney as rich sociopath bertha dorset is having sooo much fun and is literally so funny... i had a great time and also felt (correctly) very sad!

mission: impossible—the final reckoning — not as fun as most other entries and somewhat bogged down with stuff that suggests studio interference and/or needing to cut back on budget because dead reckoning went so far over as a pandemic shoot (there are really only 2 giant set pieces compared to the typical 3, and a lot of Previously, On Mission Impossible clip shows in the first act), but these movies are my happy place and once he jumped off the plane into the ocean i was completely locked in to the end. personally i don’t mind how stupid the AI plot is because i personally can’t really distinguish between the stupidity levels of the plots of this series… i’m simply here to laff. lots of great actors putting their whole pussies into pretending to take extremely silly stuff extremely seriously + the two set pieces we did get were like truly and legitimately deranged and terrifying, i’m happy! i’m easily pleased! i would kill but not join scientology to get tom cruise's hip mobility routine!

other

chelsea gallery walk — on a tuesday we went to the chelsea galleries by the west side highway to simply investigate whatever art might be there and it was a cool fun way to spend an afternoon! we had done this i think once before and i really recommend it as a fun free NYC activity for anyone in the area… you get to see a lot of different stuff! i’m not gonna list all the artists we saw but i’ll say that i think my favorite was this michael armitage exhibit.

blonde redhead & bloc party at forest hills stadium — in a tragic turn of events, i somehow missed the memo that metric dropped out of the american dates for their joint tour with bloc party and was replaced by blonde redhead… devastating news for me but we still went and tbh? i had a great time! had never been to forest hills stadium and it was much pleasanter than i anticipated (partly because it’s much smaller than other stadiums i have been to which also meant that even sitting up in the bleachers the view was pretty good and it was nice to see the crowd of nostalgic millennials going crazy for their favorite songs), even though it was also SOOOOOOO FUCKING COLD on may 31st…. blonde redhead was pretty good but bloc party really did it for me! very unexpectedly! honestly the experience made me think i should see more live music, even if i’m going alone… i was surprised by just how much i was enjoying watching a band do their thing.

music

didn’t really have a single that stood out this month so here’s my favorite track from my favorite newish album, samantha crain’s “dart”

albums below the cut! (not quite as high volume as earlier this year... but a decent showing with some good finds)

mei semones, animaru — this is very cool and well done and too jazzy and sophisticated for my personal tastes!

samantha crain, gumshoe — really loved this album, which worked a great sonic groove and has some wonderful tunes… i wish i had more to say about it because it was probably my favorite thing i listened to this month! i just thought it sounded great and i liked how romantic it was in parts… sort of triangulating a space between songwriter/indie rock/folk-ish, mellow but not dull, maybe recommended for, hm, people who have at some point been into ani difranco?“ridin out the storm” and “dart” in particular i have listened to about 1 million times apiece.

salin, rammana — cool thing i probably won’t return to but sounded really good!

suzanne vega, flying with angels — this album was sweet! i like that she did a gender-flipped “i want you” not-quite-cover from the perspective of bob dylan’s chambermaid

car seat headrest, the scholars — every now and then a band that sounds like the killers but less pop (don’t @ me about the niceties of distinguishing between different types of indie rock) catches my ear for whatever reason… these guys were pretty good but would have more replay value if they didn’t have multiple songs above 5 minutes in length (including an 18 minute song… i don’t like you like that…)

lucius, lucius — decent if not particularly special indie pop. “old tapes” is a bop!

jenny hval, iris silver mist — this album was REALLY COOL. it’s much more experimental than i am usually temperamentally open to… but there was something really evocative and mystical and eerie and interesting about it and i’ve found myself returning to individual tracks more than expected.

self esteem, a complicated woman — this album is apparently strongly maligned? i thought it was alright. not quite as weird as i feel like it wanted me to think it was, and very corny in parts but in a way i sort of liked? (the flavors of corn i accept… hard to predict). i liked 69, a song about the bold truth few are brave enough to speak (69ing is hotter in theory than in practice) (if this isn’t true for you congrats on your multitasking skills for real)

blondshell, if you ask for a picture — what’s going on with the indie songwriter girls… this is like the third album this year i’ve listened to where i’m like, why is someone writing in this songwriting register going with the most boring production in the world… i described “what’s fair” to someone as “like someone took a perfectly decent alt-rock song and like… drowned it…” and that’s kind of the vibe…

rincs, swimming pool disco & assorted EPs and singles — dave put their recent single “don’t wanna go to the pool” on a mix and i liked it so much i threw all their old stuff on my to-listen list… unfortunately most of it was more boring and meandering than i would have anticipated or wanted. i did keep some songs for future investigating but once i’d worked my way through i realized that i had been on some level hoping this would be teenage retirement (2014), the lone full-length album by short-lived punk band “chumped,” so i went and listened to that

awakebutstillinbed, chaos takes the wheel — it’s so nice that they legalized women in emo… too harsh for me to return to but i’m not gonna lie really hit the spot on a rainy thursday when i was feeling pretty emo!!! but then also made me want to listen to teenage retirement (2014) by chumped and also their 2013 self-titled EP that was better than i remembered… is chumped one of my favorite bands despite only having like 20 songs that came out more than a decade ago?

bloc party, silent alarm — and ummmm it turns out bloc party is really good? also sort of falls into “the killers but not” category… idk they played a great show and i’ve been listening to this album all day and it rules. i wasn’t actually personally into this kind of thing in high school because i was too busy cycling through exile in guyville/boys for pele/not a pretty girl obsessively for four years straight but i’m like old enough now that this kind of angular-guitar we’re-sad-but-we’re-dancing melodic-yelping indie rock makes me feel pleasantly nostalgic as a person who was 17 in 2005 and therefore like listened to this album even though i never listened to this album iykwim…. i think recent higher-volume album listening + indie production disappointments has also given me a new level of appreciation for the skill level involved in recording an album so that it sounds like you're in a room listening to a bunch of instruments play real loud. also they have a gay frontman and a lady drummer??? no one tells me anything, for silly reasons like i never shut up about how i don’t listen to guys&guitars music… only downside is i’m legit bummed i didn’t have this happen to me a couple years ago because wowwwwwww would this be a record teen quentin coldwater would love, i actively regret not finding my way to putting any of these songs on the resurrection mix lmao. "if it can be broke, then it can be fixed / if it can be fused, then it can be split / it's all under control, it's all under control" ... "if it can be lost, then it can be won / if it can be touched, then it can be turned / all you need is time, all you need is time..." like wow alright! alright!

[misc-obeyme]

Could I request a drabble about Asmo and the Male MC Bartender from that one anon ask? I fucking love that omg

Well hey there, anon! It's not quite been a year since you sent this request, I must apologize for the extreme delay.

For those who don't remember (most of you probably), here is the ask in question.

I hope I did this one justice, I really like the idea. It completely got away from me, though, and this is more of a ficlet than a drabble... I'm almost tempted to write a nsfw part two a;lsdkjfjf.

Asmodeus x male!MC (I suppose you could read it as gn, but there is a use of "he" and this was written with a male MC in mind.)

Warnings: alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end, jealousy

Asmodeus was a force to be reckoned with. When he entered The Fall, everybody turned to look. Demons almost trampled each other to come talk to him, some of them trying to pull him on the dance floor, others attempting to get him drinks. He was the center of attention no matter where he went. Everybody knew the moment Asmo stepped into The Fall, the party was really about to start.

That night was no exception, but there was something a little different about him this time. This time, he had you on his arm. He had spent all evening getting both of you ready. He insisted on choosing your outfit, making sure that your accessories matched subtly with his.

You both looked amazing and Asmo knew it. The Fall was packed and Asmo felt a thrill as he realized he would be able to show you off to almost the entire Devildom.

Due to the volume of demons, however, the club's staff was having a hard time keeping up. The bartenders were bustling to and fro, doing their best to fill drink orders as quickly as possible. There was no time for fancy maneuvers, only trying to pour drinks without messing them up.

Asmo sat with you at the bar, hoping to get a cocktail to start. He noted the thoughtful look on your face as you watched the bartenders. One of them was especially starting to get frazzled, nearly dropping an entire bottle of liquor.

You reached out over the bar to grasp the neck of the bottle, preventing it from crashing to the floor. The demon looked up at you, equal parts embarrassed and relieved.

"Do you guys need some help?" you asked.

The demon bartender looked like he didn't know what to say, but another demon came up behind him and gave you an appraising look. She was clearly the manager working that evening.

"A human like you?" she asked.

Asmo cleared his throat and leaned against the counter. "That's no mere human," Asmo said, his eyes sparkling. "He's with me."

You leaned back in your seat and shrugged. "I know how to do the job, so if you want help, I'll do it for free."

Asmo wanted to argue with this, but he thought better of it.

The manager folded her arms. "All right, let's see what you got."

Asmo watched as you went around the counter. The manager showed you where to find everything, then let you start making drinks. You took Asmo's order first, a teasing smile on your face as you did.

Asmo waved a hand at you. "Oh make me whatever you want, MC," he said.

The rest of the demons had paused their frantic pouring just to watch. The demons waiting on drinks didn't seem to mind, their eyes also on you.

Asmo worried for a moment that the attention would make you nervous, but his heart raced a bit when he realized your eyes were focused on him.

You found what you'd need and started to pour drinks into a glass. Everybody watched in fascination as you did so deftly, free pouring the liquors and twirling the bottles as you did. It was clear you knew what you were doing. No wonder you had been able to catch that bottle before it fell.

Asmo had to smother a gasp as you tossed a bottle behind your back, catching it easily with the other hand without spilling a drop. You grinned at him as you set it down.

Then you cut a small piece of an orange, took your lighter out of your pocket, and held the piece in the flames over the glass. Juice dripped into the liquid below and you squeezed the orange briefly, creating a flare of flames that made some of the demons nearby ooohh in appreciation.

You tucked away your lighter and handed the glass to Asmo. It was one of those lovely martini glasses that Asmo enjoyed holding the delicate stem of. The liquid inside it was a shimmering pink. He took a sip and his eyes lit up.

"MC, it's delicious," Asmo said, covering his mouth to hide his excited giggle.

After that, everybody was clamoring for a cocktail poured by the skilled human behind the bar. Asmo stayed in his place, watching everyone fawn over you in satisfaction. They loved you and you were his.

You didn't run out of energy, either. You put on a show for every drink you poured, outshining the other demon bartenders. They tried to keep up, mostly refilling drinks for people and trying to keep track of tabs. In the meantime, you were stacking glasses, juggling bottles, and pouring several shots at once, causing the watching demons to clap and cheer.

Asmo was content to watch you for quite some time, until he decided you'd worked enough for that night. The club was just as packed as when you first started, but he had brought you here to be with him, not to work.

When you came back to him for a moment, he reached across the bar and grabbed your wrist. Asmo lowered his eyelids, looking at you through his lashes. "Don't you think you've helped enough for tonight? I'm feeling a little lonely sitting here without you."

The smile you gave him was both sweet and reassuring. "I'm sorry," you said. "I got carried away. I didn't mean to neglect you."

"Tell them you're done for the night," Asmo said.

You went to the bar's manager, spoke with her for a moment, and then came out from behind the counter. You stood beside Asmo's chair, wrapping an arm around him and settling your hand on his waist. You leaned into him, letting his hair tickle your face.

"I'm a little tired now," you said, your voice low. There was a huskiness to it that made Asmo's skin tingle. "Why don't we get out of here?"

Asmo pushed on your chest lightly. "We didn't even get to dance!" he said. "But I do want to take you home and help you relax."

Asmo's hand on your chest became a lingering touch, fingers trailing down, pausing at your navel.

"We'll dance next time," you said. "I promise."

Asmo didn't care who was watching now, his attention was fully occupied by you. The way you steadied him as he slipped off the bar stool, both hands on his waist now. It was all he could do to stop himself from ripping your clothes off right then and there.

You seemed aware of this, though, giving him a knowing smile. "Is home too far? Don't they have private rooms here?"

Asmo's grin was so dazzling he was sure it took out several demons that were standing behind you. "Wait here," he said as he ran off to find someone to talk to about a private room. He had to make sure one was available.

Asmo quickly found what he wanted, but when he came back to you, he found several demons clustered around you. They were flirting hard, one even had a hand on your back.

For a moment, Asmo felt an unexpected flair of jealousy rise up in him. He took a breath, smiled brightly, and marched right up to you, putting his hand in yours.

"Let's go, MC," he said.

You smiled and nodded at the demons you left behind as you let Asmo guide you through the club by the hand. Asmo noted their disappointed expressions.

He didn't have long to think about his jealousy, though, as the moment you entered the back room, your hands were back on his waist and he found himself against the wall. You kissed him and he couldn't even begin to think about anything else.

Asmo was fully consumed by your heat, but he had a sudden thought that made him pull away for a moment. You looked at him with a mildly questioning expression.

"MC," he said, squirming a little and not looking at you directly.

"What is it?" you asked.

Asmo pouted. "I don't like the way everyone gets when you show off like that," he said. "Promise you'll only make drinks for me from now on."

You chuckled. You put a thumb on his lower lip which was protruding quite a bit. "Don't look like that," you said. "You know I only have eyes for you. If it makes you happy, I'll only make drinks for you, too. Okay?"

Asmo smiled and responded by kissing you.

While word spread about your bartending skills, you politely declined any time anyone asked you to demonstrate. True to your word, you only made drinks for Asmodeus and everybody knew it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[monstercanyeti]

We talking romance? Let's go!

BTdubs, this is my opinion and mine alone, so don't yell at me if I say something mean about your favorite. We all have favorites and that's perfectly okay because this is a video game.

So, if we talk about romance, I hate to say that the better romance options are for Male V rather than Female V. Judy is alright, sure, but if you're nice to her. I remember in one of my playthroughs, when my Cool attribute was low, I wasn't able to end the conversation quickly. Now, I know how it looks like from her end. Some random merc she met that Evelyn hired is suddenly back, asking to find her in desperation would raise some flags. What could they possibly want, right? Revenge? To kill Evelyn? Makes sense and I get why she's hostile, but the shit she says to you is low. She throws Jackie's and T-bug's death in your face and blames you for it, as if you were the sole being responsible for everything that happened.

No one, not a single soul, knew Saburo Arasaka would fucking be there. T-bug mentions that everyone is scrambling and on their feet, because his arrival is that sudden. Yorinobu probably got the memo at the last minute and rushed his ass from wherever the hell he was straight back. Didn't even have time to process it, just sat down and waited for his father to come down the stairs. No one could predict what Yorinobu would even do, least of all V. I don't even think Yorinobu planned to kill Saburo either, it was the heat of the moment when he did it. A crime of passion, so to speak. All of it ended in disaster, but V did manage to get the Relic. V did the job, at their friend's expense and what did that earn them? A bullet to the brain by Dexter fucking DeShawn.

Judy only knows from what the scream sheets and news outlets told her, yet when V explains that they also fucking died, Judy says she doesn't fucking care. She wants to be angry, which is fine, but if you keep defending yourself, she is just more and more angry at you. Fine, I get it. After your mission in Clouds and you show up at Fingers, she gets all mad. She starts to give up before V tells her to get her shit together. To hold out for hope. The go to the power plant and this is when I lose it with Judy. She demands to know why you were looking for Ev, so when you tell her, she scoffs and says she expects nothing less of a merc.

Girl, what the fuck? I get you're mad, but this is the shit you're gonna tell me when I'm the only reason why you know where Evelyn is in the first place? I did the dirty work for you and you say this shit? Scavs die on sight, so I'm killing everyone, but really? I go through hell just to get Evelyn and save her. If I didn't do something, your ass would've just sat in your den, mulling over what you should do but not actually doing it.

If V never came back from the dead, what would happen? Judy wouldn't have done anything. The Mox wouldn't help her, they're tired of her shit. She's good at what she does, truly talented, but that could only go so far when you start to piss off the leader of the Mox enough. Tom would have never have told her what happened, because he'd still be doing his own thing, always wondering what happened to Ev but never doing more than that. Ev would have been absolutely tortured until she finally died from the way the Scavs were treating her.

And the whole thing with them doing the raid on Clouds? Piss poor planning. She had nothing to go off of and the only reason why anything happens is because of V. Depending on what you do results in something awful happening. You either get the Dolls killed who aided you in the mission, Maiko takes over and doesn't make the Dolls lives any easier or you just piss her off.

Depending on your choices, if you unlock the extra mission for Judy, the one where you dive underwater, she goes through her life before suddenly feeling utterly guilty over everything that happened. If you reject her advances/play Male V, she sleeps on the couch and Johnny goes off on how he doesn't like her. He may be an asshole, but Johnny has shown that he's pretty decent at reading certain types of people. He knows her type and he hates it. If you stay for her, he gets mad at you for being all "sentimental" but, either way, the message is clear. He does not like her and if you're not "nice" to her, she says some pretty awful shit to you.

That's not to say Judy is a bad character. Far from it. I think she's fantastic, because she's a fleshed out character with flaws. She's realistic. But, for romance? I don't find her to be a good romantic partner for V.

River, on the other hand, is one I do have the least experience with, but for good reason. He's a good guy, heart's in the right place, but he comes on too strong and it's kinda awkward. From the stories I've heard and the bits of dialogue I've seen from videos, I just don't think River is a romance option that V would pursue. Plus, he's a badge. V with a cop boyfriend would only be hot in fanfiction, not in the reality of the game. Male V can at least see the friendship in him, but Female V is fighting mighty levels of cringey flirtation that borderlines desperation. Truthfully, I refused to do that mission for the longest time because I genuinely did not want to go through that second-hand embarrassment. But, from what I read, at the very least, you know his love is genuine. He does love V and I guess that's alright. You just really have to deal with some pretty hard cringe beforehand.

Although, I will say, River is very similar to Judy in terms of planning. He does not plan ahead. He doesn't think things through and impulsively goes through the motions. From what I've seen, from the actual gameplay mind you, he relies heavily on you to do most of the work in figuring out where to go. Like, my guy, your nephew's life hangs on the balance but you're telling me that you're incapable of doing the police work? Why I am doing the scrolling? Why am I doing the investigating? If you do not go with him to save his nephew, he's not prepared for anything and dies. Mind you, he's a cop. Sure, he doesn't have the cyberware that V has, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to avoid mines and turrets. Finding the button isn't as hard as you think and navigating around is dicey, but he could figure it out. Time is of the essence, but still, even Panam could figure out what she needs to do if she was there.

Speaking of which, Panam is probably the best romantic option in the game for a multitude of reasons. She's impulsive, like Judy, but also smart enough to think on her feet. She shows love to V, regardless of gender, though only familiar/platonic love for Fem V, and is the type to be your best friend through it all. She truly does love you and is hurt deeply when you disappear with certain endings. She is your ride or die type of partner and that's what's so great about her.

Kerry, truthfully, is the one I have zero experience on. I haven't gotten to the point of romancing him because I'm usually not playing a Male V. From the looks of it, he maintains the relationship with V so long as V is in Night City. And if you choose the Phantom Liberty ending, he would like to start up the relationship again, but that he's busy with the tour. And honestly, I think that's pretty dope. A rockerboy(old man really) that loves you a lot and can spoil your ass? Sounds good to me, honestly.

Now, enough of that. I know I ranted about Judy the most, sorry about that, but really? With these romance options, it pains me that the ones I wanna romance, I can't.

Other Romance Options that I'd have preferred

Vik? Lemme romance that old-timer, please. I'd kill to have him as a romance option. Solid enough dude. Man can beat most people's asses and he's not even suped up with any cybernetics. He's chill and he's nice to hang around with.

Claire? CLAIRE!? LET ME ROMANCE HER, PLEEEEEASE. God, she's so cool, so pretty, so amazing. I know she was married and was grieving, but c'mooooooooon. Let me love her. Let me be with her. Please!

Takemura is an enemy to lover trope and I am alright with it being a one-off thing. Truly I am. I mean, we even make a tongue-n-cheek reference about how we could make sure he's not feeling so lonely and he says he's flattered, but has prior commitments.

That one ripperdoc, Rafael Pérez, in Arroyo? Pleaaaaase let me romance this guy. Ugh, he's perfect. Tired man who could definitely use some company. Love you. I do.

T-Bug? I KNOW YOU DIE BUT GOD YOU ARE GORGEOUS! LET ME LOVE YOU! She's so pretty, too. Ugh, T-Bug, you're amazing. Trust me, I'll love you. I'll take care of you while you surf the net. I'll make sure to take care of you.

Denny? OH GOD, DENNY. That woman had me flabbergasted. I swear, I make it a point to have each V check her out. Feisty woman and gorgeous to boot. And she's punk? She's a rocker? Fuuuuuuck me, she's amazing and I'm enamored. Fuck Henry, I will pick Denny every single time.

So Mi? So Mi... I'm dying. I'm dead. I love her. I'd kill for a chance to romance her. So she lied to me, no one's perfect. I love her. V loves her. V will get over it. We got options, don't you worry. You go to space, I'll take care of myself. I'll see you after you're better, trust me.

Mumaur? El Capitan? Let me love you. Let me adore you. Sure, as a fixer, it could get complicated, but you know me and trust me and I got your back. I'm good at what I do, so please, let us be together.

Rita? Bouncer and Mox? Beautiful and badass to boot? Let me love you. I'm a merc, so I don't mind getting my hands dirty. I'll chill with you, fight with you and do whatever you want me to do. Just let me loooooove you.

Tiny Mike? Mike Kowalski? Yo, you and me are gonna have fun. We'll have a great time and I will romance the fuck out of you if given the chance. Already saved your ass, so you know I'm tough enough to help you with your merc work. Truuust me, I left your bro alive, I promise.

Angelica Whelan? Listen, you're a bitch and you did my boy Aaron dirty. Truly, you're bad. But, god, I think I can change you for the better. Let me romance you. It'd be toxic and god awful but let me make that choice, pleeeeeeease.

Farida Nazeri? Let me love you. God, let me love you. I think we have chemistry and I think we could make it work. Sure you work for BARGHEST, and I shouldn't get mixed up with that, but LET ME LOVE YOU. I WILL RISK IT FOR YOU.

Kurt Hansen? I hate you... but I'm willing to have a one-off with you. Just a one off, like with Meredith.

Paco Torres? One off, for sure, but damn it might be great.

Aurore Cassel? God, it'd be awful and just ruthless. It'd be so toxic and I know at some point, I'd grow to hate you. BUT LET ME MAKE THAT MISTAAAAKE. Come on, let me MAKE IT. PLEASE!

That being said, Johnny not being on the table does suck. Because, I agree. Johnny knows everything there is to know about you. Johnny cares about you and is with you throughout every portion of your life. Johnny honestly should have been a romance option, but I also understand why they didn't. I feel like it'd be one of the hardest things to explore. It's not like he's actually real and alive. He's dead. He's a dead man that you're speaking to. It's so morally grey, falling in love with a memory of someone who once existed.

It's a pretty damn hard topic to broach, one I think they could have explored, but I get why they didn't. There's so much to Cyberpunk 2077 and it's amazing that everyone can experience this game truly differently than others.

So here's the thing about Johnny Silverhand.

If he were a romance option, it wouldn't even be close; he'd be the most popular option. Ao3 backs this up. But the game doesn't let us choose him.

The four options the game gives us are fine as far as romance goes--they lack the depth of old-school Bioware and Larian. Panam, Judy, and Kerry are beautifully written, wonderfully messy characters. Oh yeah, then there's River (no seriously, CDPR did him dirty). But once you play through their stories, you're kinda done with them. Sure, you get some random texts, a handful of repeatable dialog, a repeatable date--but that's such a tiny sliver of your game time.

Johnny's with you for most of the game. Over the course of many hours, you get to see him warm up to V (a stand-in for you, the player), playfully trade barbs with them, and then solemly swear to off himself in order to save their/your pathetic ass.

If you think about it for more than two seconds, V has this near-psychotic level of intimacy with Johnny. The "guy in my head" trope makes a lot of narrative sense, especially in video games. It's a more interesting story when the main character has someone to talk to, rather than internal monolog or muttering to themselves. But if you overthink the trope to a concerning degree, as I have--you understand that Johnny is forced to quietly look away while V is taking a shit, showering, flicking the bean, getting random boners, violently puking blood, etc. This is way more intimacy than I have with my husband of 15 years. We close the door when we use the bathroom.

They're sharing dreams, seeing each other's memories. They pick up each other's habits. V can play the guitar. Johnny's less of an asshole and learns how to let go. They're changing each other for the better.

All the other romances in CP77 feel so damn shallow next to Johnny and V. That's not the fault of the romancable characters. It's that they've been through some very fucked-up shit together, and I don't know how you don't trauma-bond over all that. V and Johnny are the only two souls on earth who know what it's like to be an engram on a chip inside a corpse's head.

Their story is so beautiful, tragic, and fucked-up that I don't want it to end.

And I really wanna fuck that rockerboy.

[elenexdarkfire]

It's been a month ever since my Skeletour date.

I have heard all sorts of things about the phone ban measure, but not only since they announced it for this tour, ever since it was used for the first time when they had to record the film at the LA Forum in 2023.

And although there have been a lot of opinions about It, (especially on GhostTWT), some with which I agree with and others that I don't, I came to this conclusion, also seeing what Tobias Forge had to say himself about this measure in interviews.

The opinion I have, is that I started to agree with him a little and approve of this measure.

Let me explain myself better.

In recent times we haven't seen people behave decently in public places, such as concerts or even just at the cinema.

If we want to go into the specific subject of concerts, I have literally seen people throw bracelets at Billie Eilish with violence and force, and then call her ungrateful because:"How dare she not take the bracelet that I had thrown at her face, with so much affection!", or even for example with Cardi B, who had bottles thrown at her face, and if she dares to answer? "Oh no, she's a bad person because she behaves like that! And they just threw water at her!" or I don't know, there are real risks like for example, when they literally threw a phone at Bebe Rexha's face and she had to get stitches.

And I'm not just talking about concerts, I'm also talking about things like the recent viewings of the Minecraft movie that ended up being literally circuses. I swear.

Essentially what Tobias Forge wanted to do with this measure was perhaps to make us reflect a little on the fact that, in these current times, we can no longer enjoy concerts like we used to, we can no longer enjoy events of this kind like we used to.

They should be a moment of community, a moment of meeting together with many other fans, with many other people, now we treat these as The Event™ we have to participate in to not feel left out, that we have to have fun with like this by treating others badly, treating them as if there were only ourselves in that place, and especially treating the artists as if they were freaks who owe the public the viral moments and thirst traps to post on TikTok.

This is essentially a very complicated discussion, but essentially I have heard all sorts of things about this measure, this is simply my opinion.

Tthat perhaps we should reflect on why certain measures are implemented at concerts and not get angry about:"Why we can't have videos to extrapolate as much lore as possible!?"

Please, let's try to think a little about why certain artists are starting to not tolerate seeing phones everywhere at their shows. They want to have community and contact with fans. They probably don't want to be treated like freaks.

[beifong-brainrot]

I was wondering about your view point that Lin is a bad chief of police, the main things I can think of is the Pema incident ( which seems to be played off as a funny story/ one off incident), her handling of Mako's concerns about people like Varrick and Wonyong Keum and the fact triads still run rampant in the city ( though this one I have to minds on since even Toph said that once you stop one criminal more just pop this being a reason she grew disillusioned with the job herself). Sorry if you've already done a post on this I think I read a similar one by you but haven't been able to find it again.

I don't think I've ever specifically made a post on this subject alone, because it's kinda just a silly goofy half jokey opinion i have. Like i don't think Lin is the worst police chief ever. But there are some moments that make me raise my eyebrows a little. I probably wouldn't harp on it if Lin weren't a character so focused around her job and if she didn't use her job as a moral highground.

Of course yeah there's the thing where she tried to put a romantic rival in jail which is still Crazy to me. Also whatever property damage this probably alludes to

But I'll let her off for now on this considering she may not have been chief yet. Still atrocious behaviour for a cop.

B1 is kinda unfair here, because for a plot like the one with the Equalists to work, the police force inherently have to be somewhat incompetent. Like the attack on the probending arena is kinda absurd to me. They had ample warning that a terrorist attack wa sgoing to happen. But somehow multiple people snuck into the audience bearing these Bigass Ominous AF Mechanical Gloves.

Like im not allowed to bring a bottle with a cap into a concert but Lee the Equalist gets to bring his Iron Man hand to a sporting event?

And don't get me started on the reveal later on, which shows that the multiple police force airships have been absolutely Decimated by the Equalists like I feel bad for laughing but genuinely how did this happen.

I do also find it interesting how fast Lin is to just go like "ok I'm gonna go fo vigilante stuff now because it suits me" when her officers are kidnapped. Like I love that arc for her but "I'm gonna do it my way- outside the law" is not what I wanna hear from my law enforcement officers tbh. She should've just stayed quit then.

B2 isn't atrocious for Lin, I think, she's just being exhausting because Mako is essentially carrying an entire police force on his scrawny 19 year old shoulders. Which, this isn't a specifically Lin thing, Mako just seems like the only competent cop to ever exist in Republic City? And that bothers me. Hire better ppl, Lin.

I don't wanna cast judgement onto how Lin treated Mako's very obvious framing, because I'm not sure what she could've done, or if she was actively believing Mako was the perpetrator. It just feels weird that she wouldn't offer any input. And I wouldn't be surprised if there was some bias there based on Mako's past with ths Triple Threats on Lin's side too. It just irked me because she should know better.

B3 is where it gets funny, though. Like Lin just casually helps Korra rescue the airbenders in a clearly marked Republic City police vehicle. Mind you, Bumi had pointed out that the Earth Queen was well within her legal right to forcefully conscript the airbenders. It wasn't the good thing to do, but Republic City's police chief essentially helped steal a neighbouring monarch's property in a fully marked airship with the Republuc City crest on it. I feel like the only reason this wasn't an international incident was because the Earth Queen got murdered a week later.

Like this is the airship Lin was driving while helping commit international crimes...

Which, honestly, Lin's presence in B3 is just really funny because a bunch of terrorists known for targeting leaders of countries are put and about and Lin is like "yeah I'll be leaving my jurisdiction now". Yes, Korra is the primary target of the Red Lotus, but she isn't a Republic City citizen, she's actually been literally banished from Republic City throughout B3.

Korra : Stop trying to protect me! I'm the Avatar. This is my job! Lin: Don't lecture me about jobs!

Like this is the funniest exchange because Lin is currently miles away from her job.

I think B4 is pretty inoffensive. Just the same thing as B1 and B3, where Lin is just maybe pissing off foreign rulers by stealing their prisoners, as she goes on an unsanctioned mision across he Iron Wall to save her family. I'd say she has a little more leeway because Kuvira is committing crimes by usurping a nation. Idk.

Like don't take from this that I think that everything Lin does that is at odds with her job as Chief of Police is bad. In fact, some of my favourite parts of Lin's storylines are when she doesn't act as a cop.

I honestly sometimes just get the impression that Lin just... doesn't enjoy being Chief of police. Like she clearly thrives when solving crimes and helping people, but seems to trip up on the organisational level. She seems to drop the mantle of Chief to go gallivanting with her pet teenagers whenever she can.

I've made a longer meta in this vein if you're interested before❤️

[krispdreemurr]

what's your interpreation of gaster? a lot of the fandom, either old ut-heads or some newcomers have him as this cold, calculating scientist who only sees the characters as variables to be manipulated, but i am very partial to 'grandpa who is trying His Eldritch Best.'

i am not sure if you've seen it but there was art with him and the player that quoted shakespeare saying 'I have kissed the hands of the man who has killed my son.' and it just makes me think of how gaster has the unique perspective of fourth-walling breaking while also being. stuck in the forth wall, kind of phased into it. he knows we share his motivations to save the world, but also knows the reality of what he and the others are to us, a kind of meta mirror to the lightners and the darkners. if he's supposed to reflect us in some way there's no way he's straight up cruel.

also this is the same man who's first name is probably Wingding. he built the greatest machine the undergound had and will ever see and then forgot to put safety railings and decided to cool it by having giant ice cubes thrown at it. forever. he gets petty when you try and impersonate him. again, his first name is probably fucking Wingding. how you look at him and think him heartless

no yeah, absolutely. like, I am not going to claim to know the What here of what he's doing in the fourth wall, what universe he came from, etc, bc I suspect we don't have all the info there. but he strikes me as someone who cares deeply about the main cast and genuinely wants the best for them

my sort of like sense of his main characterization flaw is that he sees a problem and thinks that he has to be the one to solve it, and he can't stop pursuing a particular Methodology until he's entirely certain it won't work. he will dig himself into a hole trying to be useful and helpful, and when he realizes he's in the hole, he tries to dig his way out of it.

that's what I see as my most likely guess for what's going on w him in deltarune - he is legitimately trying to write a better future for the cast, but he is blinding himself to the damage his repair attempts are doing to everyone Right Now. hiding dess from the narrative so she lives, but ignoring how being outside reality might slowly fuck her up. trying to take Kris' cruel role from them so they can thrive, not realizing that Kris just feels more and more like a useless ghost at the outskirts of things. etc.

people compare him to a game dev a lot, and I do see it! but he always seems more to me like a modder; someone taking a preexisting story and trying to make it into something new.

[gffa]

I think Bail probably put two and two together--Obi-Wan thinks that he killed Anakin on Mustafar, so that's probably what he would have told Bail, but Bail knows: - Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord - Anakin fell to the dark side to also become a Sith under Palpatine and was the most powerful Jedi around - Luke and Leia were Padme and Anakin's children So, when suddenly Palpatine has a new incredibly powerful apprentice who seems very close to him and is apparently severely injured in some way, even if Bail didn't know the name "Vader" before, it wouldn't be hard to look at Sidious' new super powerful buddy and go, "Oh." In general, what I assume happened (and works best with the lack of on-screen conversations about it, imo) is that Obi-Wan told Bail about the name "Vader" on Polis Massa, but said that Anakin was dead. Later, Bail realized Anakin had lived, but didn't tell Obi-Wan because Obi-Wan couldn't do anything about it anyway and it would just further hurt his friend. Obi-Wan eventually realizes that Anakin is alive, but understands why Bail didn't tell him and knows that Bail already knows, so Obi-Wan doesn't need to warm him to keep Leia away from Vader. Or else figures that, if Bail doesn't know, that's better, because, you know, Vader is a level 500 psychic space wizard and could potentially rip that information out of Bail's head and the fear that Bail would carry around every time he interacted with Vader would set Anakin's radar off. (Bail knows Leia is Anakin's daughter, but he wouldn't be afraid of Vader in the same way, if he didn't know.) Mas Amedda probably knows--he's there in Revenge of the Sith when Sidious talks to Anakin on Mustafar, where Anakin is calling my "my Master", before the fight with Obi-Wan happens (so he definitely knows it's Anakin Skywalker). He's also there when Yoda shows up in the office and says, "A new apprentice, I hear you have." He's likely been there for a lot of Palpatine's conversations with Vader or could put two and two together. lesbinewren replied:

does make me wonder if ahsoka would ever tell rex. i don’t think she told him before malachor (he still talks about anakin positively in season 3, which certainly isn’t definitive proof but indicates to me he doesn’t know) but i wonder if she would after she returns post-rotj

I do wonder if Leia or Luke might have told him as well after the events of ROTJ. (I think like three different reference books have confirmed it was Rex on Endor.) I have to assume that Rex would have talked to Luke at some point, given the name "Skywalker", and if he doesn't know about Rex's connection to Ahsoka, would he have told him about Anakin? (I do like to think Rex is how Luke learned about Ahsoka.) But it does beg the question, Luke Skywalker would have become a pretty famous name in the Rebellion, did they just not cross paths until Endor? Would Luke just have not been ready to talk about Anakin until after the second Death Star? I don't think Rex and Ahsoka probably met again until after Endor, but did he never seek Luke out?

Hello!

I was wondering, in your opinion, who knows about Anakin being Vader in canon? I always got the impression that no one but Obi-Wan and Yoda knew (and Reva of course), but recently I've been rethinking that. Especially regarding what Bail knows. How much do you think Obi-Wan told him at the end of ROTS? Everything, or only that Anakin is dead? I can see it going either way with Bail, but with only what's shown on screen it seems like he doesn't know (I mean, he'd know that Vader was around, and then wouldn't he tell Obi-Wan that Anakin is still alive if he knew they were the same person?).

Thank you very much!

Hi! Canon has been somewhat coy about this, but if we're going with Disney continuity, here's what I remember people knowing (since this is a subject I enjoy): - Obi-Wan thinks Anakin is dead until the events of Obi-Wan Kenobi - Reva knows that Darth Vader is Anakin (Obi-Wan Kenobi) - At some point Bail knows that Anakin is Darth Vader, he leaves a note for Leia that she finds after Alderaan's destruction that tells her the truth (Bloodline) - Bail knows that Ahsoka lived (he saw her at Padme's funeral in Tales of the Jedi), but they don't see or hear from each other until the events of the Ahsoka book, where she's surprised he's still alive. It's unclear whether he still knew about her, but he doesn't express any "whoa, you lived!" sentiments. (Tales of the Jedi, Ahsoka) - Ahsoka didn't know that Vader was Anakin, until she sensed his presence and eventually confronted him face to face (Rebels) I generally assume that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had no idea about each other, with Obi-Wan having cut himself off from the Force so thoroughly that Anakin couldn't sense him, it's reasonable to assume that Ahsoka might have assumed he was dead. Obi-Wan might know she was alive, he might have assumed she was dead. Bail doesn't say anything to either of them (I think he thinks about telling Obi-Wan in the Ahsoka book, but decides against it? I may be misremembering), because it's too dangerous for them to know. I think that Bail doesn't say anything (if he knows by this point, which is a big question mark) because he doesn't want to hurt Obi-Wan any further, the loss of Anakin and the Jedi Order have nearly destroyed him, learning that Anakin would only wound him further and it wouldn't help anything, Obi-Wan's already carrying enough guilt, I think Bail would want it left in the past. But I could also believe that he doesn't know, because if Leia has been kidnapped and Obi-Wan has to go out in the galaxy, it seems like Bail might have wanted to give him a heads up. It depends on how much Bail thinks he can handle vs how much he knew at that point. Vader could go either way with Ahsoka--when she leaves her lightsabers on the unnamed moon in the final season of TCW, it's meant to imply she died. In the Ahsoka novel, she can't feel her bond with Anakin, it's like there's nothing there, just an empty darkness. In Rebels, he says, "So the apprentice lived." on Malachor when they're face to face, so my gut feeling is that he wasn't really sure, but that he'd probably assumed she was dead after the Republic cruiser fell onto that moon after Order 66. Vader of course knew that Obi-Wan lived and was utterly obsessed with finding him (to the point that Sidious thought it was A Real Problem, like STOP THINKING ABOUT KENOBI WE HAVE OTHER SHIT TO DO, VADER levels of obsession, lmao) but who knows what he thought about Yoda. I generally assume he thought Yoda lived, but since he never showed up anywhere, Vader didn't think about him much. I think the only people who knew that Anakin Skywalker = Darth Vader were: - Obi-Wan and Yoda (though, Obi-Wan thought he died on Mustafar, Yoda probably senses that Anakin was still alive) - Bail Organa, at some point, whether figuring it out on his own or having been told that Anakin was Vader after Mustafar (Obi-Wan and Yoda know his Sith name from the holo recordings in Revenge of the Sith), nor do we know when he knew - Mon Mothma suspected at some point, her message to Leia in the Bloodline novel hints that she'd suspected for awhile, but it's very unclear when she figured it out, as the book takes place in 28 BBY, decades after the end of the OT - Maul (I forget how, but I'm pretty sure he knew) - Thrawn (figured it out at some point, after working with Vader in Thrawn: Alliances) - Sabe finds out in the course of the 2020 Darth Vader comic - Tarkin strongly suspected it in the Tarkin novel, especially since they had a good working relationship during the Clone Wars - Jocasta Nu found out during the 2017 Darth Vader comic, but he killed her shortly after and it's unlikely she told anyone else