#normally i would apologize for the length but literally i don’t care. this question was fascinating to think about

[alienside]

extremely mecore question so i have no idea if this will make any sense. but. i think i remember you said that tsh is at least partially a roadtrip. can you please talk about how various places in the story influence and relate to the overall themes and narrative etc not in a worldbuilding sense but in a Vibes sense. what does the city theyre from Mean to the various characters and what does leaving it mean and are there any other particularly important places etc etc

VERY youcore question. the best part is i haven’t actually decided where they go on the road trip but i’m giving u themes and vibes anyway

first of all. this is technically worldbuilding but i think urban magic would work slightly different from rural magic. the plot reason for this is so that junhee can see some rural place for the first time and be like “what the fuck is that” and the other two can go “???” and then realize there is something deeply wrong with him

so like. every town/landmark they hit has to be significant to one of the characters even if the rest don’t realize it. one of the towns is going to be where sasha’s parents were killed but delwyn & co. obv don’t realize that when they stop there for the night (they only know that its like irradiated with magic; haha turns out that’s what killed sasha’s parents). the town where sasha & co. catch up to them is the sight of the last family vacation hana and chan went on together. the idea here is that the metaphorical ghosts that motivate them are also made very very real by forcing them to revisit the scene of the crime so to speak. like yes tsh is a story about the future but it’s also about the past. that which haunts us. time is circular. etc etc

on one hand i like the idea of them making it to the west coast. beachside confrontation* and all that. plus it’s got a very final “you can go no further” feeling. on the other hand i also like the idea of them almost-not-quite making it. very sexy in a “falling short of expectations” way. or “trying and failing”, which resonates w tsh’s whole failing to stop the apocalypse thing.

(* just to be clear by confrontation i actually don’t mean sasha and co. that happens earlier in the plot. this climactic deal is the one where delwyn goes supernova and blinds junhee. i’m still undecided what the main threat is actually. i like the idea of a magical governing board that keeps tabs on mages and thinks delwyn is too powerful to allow him to go rogue. but also monsters never fail me. like to be more specific the magic governing board appeals more to my “commentary on human nature” instinct but i don’t think they’d be such a threat to junhee that delwyn would need to cause an apocalypse to stop them. a congregation of ppl who happen to be magic beacons drawing a shit ton of monsters to them, on the other hand… i might do both and give the board a smaller climax-type but i’m literally inventing that as i type this so i haven’t thought of consequences or long-term ramifications for any of this)

btw the journey itself uses chan’s car (delwyn and junhee, being new york boys, do not own cars). i imagine it being a mildly beat-up subaru or smth. chan apologizes for the mess in the backseat and junhee is like “we have bigger problems right now”. also lots of stops in run-down motels, dusty midwest towns, rusty gas stations and laundromats that sorely needed a remodel in like 1980. sort of the americana vibe. probably a quarter of the story? takes place in nyc until chan sees a vision of sorts that makes him think the apocalypse will start in nyc so like. if we just take delwyn out of the city everything will be fine! (spoiler alert it is very much not fine)

(also i think the aesthetic vibe is supposed to be a little bit “the world has already ended/been abandoned.” does that mean it doesn’t matter whether delwyn causes an apocalypse? or are we trapped in a story, where the environment knows already where the narrative intends to go? just a little bit of spice for u and me 🤝)

for both junhee and chan this whole apocalypse thing is also the first time they leave their hometowns (nyc and rural georgia respectively). for chan it’s a little bit self-discovery, a little bit hero’s journey (also significant i think that although delwyn is sort of The Main Guy, chan’s the one undergoing the transformative process of the hero’s journey). for junhee it’s a lot more symbolic of his willingness to follow delwyn anywhere (not to make his character sound like that’s his only personality trait?? if it weren’t for chan tho junhee would probably never leave nyc in his life). but it is also very much a “leave behind everything familiar and comforting” moment that does freak junhee out. part of it is that rural magic Does Stuff that urban magic doesn’t and it makes him very jumpy.

also sasha’s crew is following a weird and disjointed set of clues, courtesy of kei, that doesn’t so much lead them to delwyn as it leads them to places that are of emotional significance to him. (this is also how they manage to end up behind delwyn; tw worlduilding but the first clue leads them to new york, so they hop on a flight and then break into his apartment, but he’s already long gone. from there tho kei and sasha can both use the sort of. increased proximity to delwyn’s energy to track him a little more precisely. the more data points the better, which is why they get closer faster with each new city/town.)

delwyn’s hometown is gonna be pretty close to the west coast/end of their journey, around when delwyn’s coming to the conclusion that he is going to cause the apocalypse for real, that he has that power etc. the entire reason for him hailing from the west is that tsh is very “consequences of your own actions”-based; delwyn’s family still lives there and we’ll meet his parents and younger sister. haven’t decided her age yet but the important part is she is completely innocent. she’s sort of the connection to the real world, and delwyn has to be confronted with the reality of everything he’d be sacrificing, and it has to be fresh on his mind when he does it. he has to admit to himself that he is dooming everyone, has to decide for himself that saving junhee is worth that.

anyway thank you for letting me talk about this flesh this out in words etc. also thanks for being literally just as insane as i am muah <3

[mashiraostail]

Hi! Can I please get some Gang Orca, Aizawa, Vlad King and Present Mic when their S/O knows they've been having a rough week and they surprise their mans with lingerie and an evening of... *ahem* Stress relief? Also some pampering and snuggles!

o my gosh i love this song this is kinda on the longer side i have diverged into the world of p o rn 

ns fw under the cut (i think it’s pretty gender neutral lmk tho!)

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve in private with you, stress was no different. He was clearly stretched out beyond his normal limits, and by the looks of it, he still had a ways further to go. He always got a little short with you when his work became tedious, not in a mean way just in a curt way. One word answers to your questions became favorable and for better or worse he mostly just liked to be left alone. He apologized after things were sorted he knows you’re only worried and trying to check in with him but when things pile up he gets overwhelmed even by your simple questions.  You could feel the irritation appearing on Monday night, and it only piled as the week progressed, by the end of it the poor man was about to spill over with his annoyance. You were working quietly across the room from him, much less stressful and more leisurely assignments that didn’t make your heart leap out of your throat, you watch him tap his pen around on his desk, prattling the black plastic as he sat on the phone, after a moment he just hung up and sighed, that was the fourth interaction like that within the hour. You watched him forlornly, you wished there was some way for you to help relieve the tension in his shoulders, something you could say or do that would put him at ease rather than overwhelm him further. As you pondered it you realized that maybe there was something. You stand up suddenly, and the unexpected motion leads Kugo to turn and look at you expectantly.  “I’m going to get ready for bed I think.” You sigh, “I’m pretty exhausted so it’s probably best to call it an early night.” It was at least worth a try, even if he’d say no, “you look tired too.” You press a kiss just below his eye, “why don’t you join me?”  He shakes his head, “In a little while. I’ll be quiet.”  “I wasn’t worried about that.” You squeeze his shoulders, “don’t work too hard, okay Kugo?” He just hums back at you as you leave.  You were sort of worried you’d lost it, you’d boughten it a while ago but got too nervous to even put it on by yourself let alone in front of someone else. It wasn’t that you thought he wouldn’t like it, you were pretty sure Kugo could find a way to compliment you if you were wearing a trash bag, it just felt...strange. Embarrassing maybe. You couldn’t pin the word but it made you flutter nervously.  When you do manage to dig it up you contemplate it for a second. You decide the nervousness will be worthwhile if it helps relieve Kugo even a little bit.  You wonder how to go about it, should you just walk across the hall and bust in his office? That feels sort of curt. You look around for a moment before an idea percolates.  “Kugo!” You call out to him, trying to keep an indifferent tone, “can you come here a second? I need a hand!” You hear him sigh, and you’re half expecting him to call back that the step ladder is in the kitchen. But you sit on the edge of your bed in wait, trying to look less nervous and more appealing.  “What’s the matter? I’m very-” Blue, dark navy blue and barely there. He really wasn’t expecting this. He could practically see all of you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, thin satiny straps hardly holding the frail garment together, he’s sure just one tug from his finger would send it fluttering to the ground. He feels sort of bad for letting so much annoyance bubble up in him when you called for him. But now something else was bubbling up. It was like you’d packaged yourself up for him.. well he supposed you quite literally did. “Are you busy?” You can feel his gaze latch onto you, his eyes taking you in, up and down rapidly over and over again.  “No..not...very..”

 It really doesn’t take much coaxing to get him undressed and into bed. After a while of kissing him while his hands roam around the sheer blue lace that just scarcely covered you, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’d been together for a while, and you were never one to hold out on him, he isn’t sure why he’s on cloud nine right now, it’s not like he’d never gotten this sort of thing from you before, your hands, mouth, and a lot more than that were always there. If he wanted you all he had to do was ask. But something about you doing this for him, because he was stressed...the way you did all this just to relieve him? It was too sweet, combined with the sight of you in that perfect outfit on your knees for him and the feeling of your lips and hands playing with his already hard cock was more than enough to wash the tension away. It cleared his head of anything but you.  Big hands pull your mouth off his length, the drool and precum around your lower lip, paired with the redness washed over your face and the obscene plumpness in your lips that the stretch of his cock left behind would have been enough to make him beg if you felt any need to withhold from him. Lucky for him you did not.  “Kugo-” You let him spread your legs, tread careful fingers between them pressing in one, then another while he holds you up in his lap, leaning you against his chest for leverage.  “What a sweet thing you are...” His chest rumbles with it, “did you go to this trouble all to make me feel better?”  His fingers knew their way around too well, his other hand splayed on your chest, careful to simply push or slide underneath the lace rather than remove it, palms and fingertips occasionally brushing over your nipple, all you can do is keen and nod.  “You did?” His hand on your chest pushes you closer, “that makes me so happy my love.”  “Kugo-” You call for him again and he hums as you clutch his wrist, the one between your legs.  “I’m right here. Hm... What would I do without you?” He murmurs it close to your ear, it sends a full-body shudder down your frame, “you always take such good care of me, and I was being cold to you wasn’t I?”  “No,” you shake your head, your whole face is burning, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at the exposure, “you weren’t-”  “But I was.” He sighs, “and now I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?”  “Kugo- I just want you,” you gasp, fingers tightening around his arm, “please Kugo,” his fingers leave you at that, the loss makes your whole abdomen stutter.  “Turn around and face me.” You follow his order with shaking thighs.  “Aren’t you lovely?” His tongue slides over your chest as two big hands curl around the small of your back. “Can you do it?”  His question falls on deaf ears, you’re already lining him up and starting to take him in, the groan that rumbles out of him only spurs you on until you’ve worked yourself up to hysterics bouncing in his lap, his low grunted praises pushing you closer to the proverbial edge by the second.  You’re a nice view, Kugo’s surprised he’s lasted so long with it. He watches the flush extend down your chest, his hand occasionally treks down the small of your back to your hips, then down still to feel the stretch of you around his length, until he's just about there, then he’s guiding all your movements, pushing and lifting you with ease, an almost bruising grip gets you to roll your hips against his. You’re sheathed totally in his lap when you both finish.  He enjoys watching your chest heave as you come down from it, then you fall against him. “You really do look lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place.  “You think so?” You shuffle up his chest, “well I’m glad. I don’t know why I was nervous..”  “Nervous?” His tongue glides along your neck, “about how you looked?” “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it, I...I guess I don’t know what I thought to be honest.”  “Whatever you want to give to me I’d be delighted to have.” He nips your earlobe and you sigh, coiling a leg around him as he continues, “even when I get a little short with you, you’re always what I want. I’m a pushover when it comes to you.” He concedes, and then you remember.  “Sorry to pull you away from all your work. I just wanted to help...”  “No need to be sorry, you did help..” He’s rubbing long, tender strokes up your back, “and anyways it was an emergency.” 

Shouta Aizawa: Stress wasn’t foreign to the erasure hero, though stress that came from being behind on work presented a certain dilemma. He dealt with stress by sleeping, but in this case...well sleeping would only make it worse. So he got even less sleep than normal. He was irritable at best and downright rude at worst. He’d apologize later, he always did, but at the moment all he wanted was to be left along to plug away at all the responsibilities he’d neglected until now. You felt bad, you wished there was more you could do to help him out, but as it were all you could really do is be there if he wanted to lean his weight on your arm or complain about his day, normally you’d offer a nap with him but that seemed like the last thing he’d want.  You’d already left him to get ready for bed, you’d showered and were rummaging around for some pajamas when you find it, you don’t think you’d even worn it before. You wouldn’t say you and Shouta didn’t have a lot of sex, you had a decent amount, but normally fancy lingerie was left to fantasy, it looked fragile and not at all like something that would hold up against Shouta’s semi-destructive bedroom tendencies, you wonder why you bought it in the first place. Though you realize that it may be useful right about now, especially if he was in a being taken care of mood over a, doing the caring mood.  You wonder how long ago you even got it, it still fit fine so it can’t be all that old. You peek out the bedroom door to make sure he’s still sitting, unsuspecting at the table in the kitchen, his back to you.  When it all checked out you made your way over, sliding your arms around his neck.  “Shou.” You rest your cheek against his temple, “it’s so late.”  “I know.” Is his deadpan reply. “Do you need the time?” He points to the bottom right of his screen, a small digital clock displaying the hour. You huff at that, you knew he knows that’s not what you mean. “Come to bed with me.” You rub his chest over the ribbed fabric of his shirt, “please?”  “In a minute.”  “Shouta..please..” You whine at him and duck down to kiss his jaw, he reaches behind himself to hold onto you, he finds your shoulder, by the crook of your neck, expecting to feel the fabric of a t shirt or a tank top strap, but there’s nothing, just skin, he slides his hand over your shoulder, in search of something. His other arm reaches around too, lower, to your legs, thighs, and hips.  “Are you naked?” He asks incredulously. “Maybe,” His hand finds one strap around your thigh as you continue, “or better.” He pulls away and stands, facing you, you’re still bent over resting on the back of his chair.  “You-” His eyes latch onto the purple, royal purple, dark, and figure-hugging, leaving nothing to his imagination, purple that he wanted to pull away with his teeth, leaving marks on your skin behind in its place.  “Where’d you get that-”  “Why’s it matter?” You laugh, pulling him closer by his shoulder, “want a matching set?”  “Shut up.” He wraps his arms around you despite his words.  “Ready to call it a night now?” Your own arms come around his neck and he sighs.  “You’re such a brat.”  “You were the one being mean, if you work like this too much I’ll worry you don’t love me anymore, you know?”  The trek from the kitchen to your bedroom is mostly lost in your memory.  You aren’t entirely sure why you considered the possibility that Shouta would want to lay back and let you take care of him, as soon as he touched you back in the kitchen you realized all he’d really want to do was blow off steam. But you were fine with that too. 

That in mind...he can be utterly cruel when it suits him. 

“Are you still worried I don’t love you anymore?” His voice is low and gruff beside your ear, his lips and stubble scraping down your jaw to your neck. If you’d had plans to get on your knees for him he nixed them before you could even get started in favor of getting you where he had you now, back to his chest three fingers inside you at a grueling pace, pushing and curling and rubbing until your eyes were watering and you were arching against him, trying to get enough leverage to close yourself off.  “Keep your legs open.” His other hand is at your collar bone, keeping you pressed against him, “come on, or I’ll tie you up how I want you.” You grip his arm at that you can feel him grin into your skin.  “You’re gonna rip it-” You turn into him, chest stuttering, he hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing the lingerie, just pushing and twisting it out of the way of his hands.  “I’ll buy you a new set if I do.” He’s teeth close around your neck, “don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.”  You dig your nails into his arm unsure of what number orgasm this was, honestly after 2 you felt like they just melded together anyways, it’s not like he let up nearly long enough to let you recover.  “Are your eyes watering?” He mutters it into your jaw, “aren’t you cute? Is it too much?” You’re just shaking your head, keening and arching into his touch, chest heaving with helpless breaths.  “No?” His voice is thick with faux sympathy, “are you gonna cry? It hurts a little to be so close, doesn’t it? Can’t take it? You’re right there aren’t you? Why can’t you cum?” He doesn’t mind the scratching, and it’s a good thing, cause if he did..he’d be an unhappy man after this all let up.  “You didn’t say-” You barely get the breath in your lungs to push the words out.  He’s grinning though, it’s the answer he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, breathless and needy. “You want me to say you can?” His other hand rubs your stomach comfortingly, a stark and unfair contrast to the pace of his second hand. “Is that what you want? Will you cry if I don’t?”  “I’ll cry if you do too-”  “I’m willing to test that, come on. Cum now.” It happens like clockwork, with Shouta it always was. Stuttering thighs, your stomach taking in shaky uneven breaths. Once your peak is there and gone both hands are softer, slower, rubbing long strokes against your sex then your stomach and chest.  “That was good.” He’s murmuring it into the soft skin behind your ear, “that was so good. You’re so sweet.” His hand’s rubbing small circles over your belly, his thumb brushing over your navel. “Is that all you can do tonight?” “No,” You shake your head vehemently, “no I want you too-” He hums affectionately into your skin at that. “You are sweet tonight.” He squeezes you a little, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but you feel it. “Okay then, if this is what you want then I won’t feel bad. Lay on your chest.”

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: Despite how he looked Kan really wasn’t very brutish at all. But when he got like this sometimes his own strength evaded him. It made his emotions obvious, when he got too stressed even a fountain pen was liable to snap in his fist. He’d worked through all the wooden pencils in your apartment, they’d been halved and discarded in rapid succession, he was currently working through all the mechanical pencils. You hoped this all got sorted before the fountain pens, that was a mess you’d rather avoid. He was usually good at dealing with stress, long runs, combat trainings, things in that vein were usually enough to relive him of a bad couple of days. But if the discontent extended past that normally he liked talking with you, when he was stressed, upset or exhausted he liked having you hauled up in his lap, squeezing him, combing your fingers through his hair and babying him into perking up a bit. But when it got past even that stage was when you had to worry about fountain pens.  He’d brush you off, just a grunt or nod as a reply as he slunk back into his seat. You tired your signature knuckle kisses to get him to warm up to you, but all you’d gotten out of him was a huff of breath. He didn’t pull his hand away from you though, until his phone started to ring, and by the time he finished his conversation and hung up he didn’t look keen on offering it to you again.  “Sek.” You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and he nods.  “You should come to bed. It’s late and you don’t feel good.”  “I feel fine.” He shakes your hold on his arm, “you go ahead. It is late, there’s no need for you to be up now.” Normally he’d kiss your head with a phrase like that, but all he did was break the pencil in his right hand. You sigh, “alright. Well wake me up if anything okay? If I can help at all I want to.”  “I know. Thanks.” You kiss his temple as you stand up, “Don’t be too late.” He just nods at that and you close the door behind you as you leave.  It’s there in your closet front and center when you open it up. You were planning on using it for his birthday...but now..well maybe it’d be enough to rescue him yet? You only got it a few days ago, you hadn’t even tried it on yet. You look between it and your reflection before settling on an idea.  You stand before the closed door, separating you and Sekijiro, you’re just a little nervous, if he brushed you off dressed like this you’d be sort of crushed, but he got such tunnel vision sometimes it was a possibility in your head. But you were almost 100% there now, so there wasn’t any use in turning back. “Sekijirio.” You open the door and try to seem less anxious. “Mhm?” He doesn’t turn to look at you. You approach him without responding. “Sekijiro.” You say it harder this time and he nods more obviously, still spinning a barely together pencil in his fingers.  “Yeah,what’s wrong?” You’re standing beside him and he still doesn’t look at you.  “I though you were going to bed?” He says still without looking at you.  “I was.” You agree.  “So why didn’t you?” “I got lonely.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to get his gaze on you, though you’re ineffective. “I’m really busy.”   “Sekijiro.” You spin his chair.  “Baby what gives, I-” He stops, maybe chokes on something.  “You’re being such a brute.” You take his hands and slide them up your stomach as you drop into his lap. He hears you but all he can think about is red, lacy and showy fabric highlighting the best places, like a guide for all the places his wants to put his hands, the band around your thigh squeezing, making you look even fuller and more supple in his lap. “What happened to my big sweet man Seki?” His mouth feels dry, your holding the sides of his neck, drawing him into a kiss, and clearly encouraging him to just put his hands all over you. It was like he was having some embarrassing high school fantasy, like someone dug around his brain and picked out his most perfect fantasy and laid it out like a trap for him. “I say that..but it’s so sexy when you get all worked up..” His stomach swarms at that as your eyes cast to the abandoned pile of broken writing utensils. You’re practically whining into his lips, “ and I know I shouldn’t distract you, you said you were busy, I’m sorry I’m so needy-”  “I’m not busy at all.” He barely lets you finish, “this is nothing. Don’t be sorry. I can do it tomorrow.” He was sure his class would understand if he..waited an extra day or two to return the exams..  “Just keep working.” Your hands are sliding into his shirt, “I’ll take care of you.”

He could not keep working. It was unfair of you to hold him to that standard, when you were so good at this, when you looked so good on your knees between his legs, taking him to the back of your throat, when your hands felt like that braced on his thighs. No sane person could keep working. Not when your hair was begging to have his hands in it, or when you clearly needed to be guided up and down his length by the nape of your neck.  He only had two hands. And when your’s started wandering, up his abdomen, around to his waist, begging him to toss his shirt somewhere else..the work can wait, for your sake. He doesn’t mean to pull so hard, but the moan that flutters past your lips when he does indicates it may not be the worst mistake he’s ever made. He pulls you off his length and you let him go with a pop, a thin strand of something obscene connected your lips to the head of his cock, the sight of it alone was enough to make him buck his hips up into nothing.  “Let’s just go to bed.” He’s guiding you to stand, “I’m done here. Let’s just go bed.” He can’t tell if the ditzy stumble and blown out pupils are just part of the act or if blowing him really does shut your brain off a little. “if you want-” Your voice jumps as he swipes you up via the back of your thighs, once your settle though you take the short walk to your bedroom as an opportunity to get your lips on him again, his shoulders, his chest, just around the neckline of his hero costume, if it even tore a little one stood the chance of sticking out. He loses his pants on the way. He just tosses you on the bed once you’re close enough, before you can protest or complain he’s kissing you quiet, then trailing his mouth down your neck and shoulders, to your chest and stomach and legs, kissing and biting and fingering, enjoying the feeling of your fingers twirling and tugging his hair, and the way you’re spreading your legs to allow him closer. He enjoys it until he’s hooking your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up, your hands brace his hips as he presses forward.  If anyone asked him this was the best of both worlds, he got the physical work out plus he got you cooing in his ear? He wasn’t really sure what he was stressed about in the first place.  “Fuck-” You’re gasping it out, pressing his face into your neck, “you’re amazing-” Even subtle praise makes his stomach jump, and you’re just babbling it out thoughtlessly at this point, he doesn’t blame himself for not lasting much longer after you start.  His weight drops onto your chest after you finish and you heave, “jeeze Sek-”  “Sorry.” He presses his face into your shoulder, “sorry.” But he doesn’t move. The way you wrap your arms around his back say you don’t want him to.  “That was really good.” He’s still huffing into your skin and you hum, dragging a hand up his back.  “I’ll help you grade that stuff tomorrow.” You twirl the hairs at the base of his neck around your fingertips. He groans thankfully. “I’m sorry I was being mean.” He rolls over and traps you against his chest, “you’re the best.” 

Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic Hyperactive was an understatement, manic was an intense downplay of the current state of your boyfriend. And he was doing everything but the things that needed to get done.  “Hizashi-”  “I can't now I need to do-” (insert thing that doesn’t need to be done at all).  He had plenty of reports to fill out, from what you heard it was a busy week for patrols in the area, plus his usual grading and any work for the show.  But instead of doing that he was reorganizing a record shelf.  “Hizashi I-”  “You don’t understand how badly I need to organize these alphabetically by title.” He doesn’t let you get a word in.  “Clearly I don’t at all. Can I help at all?” You sit on the ground behind him.  “No I don’t think so.”  “Alright.” You concede, “I’m gonna call it a night.” You sigh, “call if you need me.”  “Aye aye.” He’s scrutinizing two records as you leave him.  You just needed to get him to focus on something, then he’d be fine. But what could you get him to focus on...something starts to bubble up, it might just work too..if you could get his feet on the ground  in anyway at all you were sure it’d stick.  It doesn’t take you long to find the box, you’d bought it for a special occasion, though with Hizashi you normally didn’t get much in the ways of planning and preparation, when valentines, your birthday, his birthday, an anniversary etc.. rolled around he was jumping your bones the moment you rolled over in the morning. You don’t think he’s ever even seen this one on you.  You don’t take long to get changed, you’re inspecting yourself in the mirror when your bedroom door opens.  “Babe I know you said you were going to bed but I hope you aren’t asleep because while I was cleaning out that box that I use to prop up some vinyl sleeves I found these hilarious pictures from high school of you and Nem-” He drops the pictures.  “Oh.” You turn to him, “well I wanted to give you a surprise.”  “You did-” He chokes it out, red flush creeping down his neck, “why are you wearing that-”  “Because.” You go over to him and take his wrists, pulling him further into your bedroom, he just stumbles along with your pull. “You need to calm down Zashi baby.”  “This does not make me feel calm-” It’s strangled, if he got any redder you were sure you’d see steam coming out of his ears.  “You need to get all your energy out.” You press him down until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You roll your hips against him, and drag your lips down his jaw, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other against his chest, but you can still feel his attention waining.  “Zashi.” You drop all your weight into his lap and it pulls his eyes from your dresser back to you.  “Focus on me.” You guide his hands up your waist and all the fluster that had been lost as his thoughts wandered away from you returned. You realize the better thing to do is stand up and let him have things his way. “You can look or touch however you want.” You pull his hands down your hips.  “So just blow off all that extra steam okay? Whatever you want, just tell me.”  He looks mildly like he’s about to pass out.  His hands go where you expect, your hips, around to cup your ass and his lips flutter around your stomach and waist. You elect to just sigh good naturedly and curl your fingers in his hair to keep him with you. “Can you turn around?”  “Hizashi.” You frown, “don’t be distasteful.”  “You said whatever I wanted-” You suppose you cant argue that so you turn around and try not to let out an embarrassing squeak or squeal when 100% of his attention is directed at your ass, one arm circling around you to hold you in place.  Various articles of clothing are lost or rearranged to accommodate the touching and kissing. He manages to pull you into bed with him, still keeping your legs on either side of his head as he lays down. His arms wrap around your thighs  fingers and palms running slow strokes over your sex as his teeth scrape the surrounding skin, tongue fluttering against your hole occasionally. You press against his chest for leverage and he encourages you to rock your hips against him. You eventually go for his cock, as he starts to work you up too much, getting you too close. You thumb at the head before leaning down and taking him past your lips. He seems contented with that for a while until he’s laying you out on your chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing into you. He doesn’t stay pressed to you for too long before he’s pulling back to watch your whole body react to him.  It held his attention exceedingly well.  “Zashi fuck-” To say that the way you reached back and fumbled for his hand where it held the bend of your hips heightened the experience would be an understatement.  “Fuck you’re really sexy-” He presses his fingers into your skin harder, “god you’re so fucking hot,” he groans watching your back shift to accommodate the way your hand searches for some purchase. Instead though he’s pushing it away and using his grip on you to turn you to your back, he pulls your legs around his waist and you follow his pull with no protest.  “Fucking god,” He grunts, bottoming out as if he hadn’t pulled out in the first place, “shit, look at you.”  “Zashi-” Your chest flutters with it, he can feel it under his hands.  “Say my name like that again.” He mutters it, maybe more to himself, he’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist and aligning it over his shoulder.  He seriously had way too much energy, you could barely keep up you felt so dizzy.  “Zashi!” You keen at the deeper angle and he groans. “God you sound almost as good as you look.” He presses his forehead into your shoulder, “I’m gonna fucking cum babe-”  The way you were gripping him like you’d float away if you didn’t was already more than enough for him, but the way you’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut as you gasp it out at him, “me too!” If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would.  He’s against your chest, heaving. “Feel better?” You ask pulling a long strand of hair between your fingers. He hums and presses his face into your neck.  “Yeah I do..”  “It’s still pretty early.” You curl your arms around his back and drag your fingers over the shifting muscles below. He nods at that and takes a deep breath of you. “So..” You prompt him. “I could help you work out what you need to get done tomorrow?”  “We could go again?” You speak in unison.  “Again!?” You flush, “Zash you have way too much energy!” 

Bonus Aizawa ending hehe: “Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s looking at you where you lay below him the next morning, he’d reached over you to click off his alarm when he caught sight of you, he’d really done a number on you. Red in all the places he’d grabbed or smacked, shapeless hickeys outlining where the lingerie had been the night before, the map on your skin the only thing left of the garment as far as you were concerned.  “I’m fine.” You wave, “I’ve gotta get up soon though, I’ll be late.” You pin some of his stray hairs back, “what really matters is how are you feeling? Did I help at all? I was worried I’d only make it worse-”  “I feel much better.” He leans down to bridge the gap between your lips, “I shouldn’t get so stand offish. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t really think I don’t love you.”  “Of course I don’t.” You laugh, sitting up, “I’m glad you feel better now. It’s okay to need space Shouta.” You squeeze his face in your hands, “I love you and I know that you love me. I’m always here for you, even when you need space okay?” He hears your words and appreciates them, but his attention is taken by the state of your thighs, which was 1000x worse than that of your chest and stomach. “Are you sure I didn’t do too much? You can be honest with me. I know I was in a really bad mood.” He asks pushing the blanket to reveal more reddend skin.  “Positive. Now you should get a few more z’s Shou.” You stretch out, “I’ve got a meeting.”  As soon as your feet hit the floor your legs protest the weight of your body with everything they have. “Are you sure you’re sure?” Shouta can see your hickey covered thighs trembling as you walk around the bed to your closet, the way you hold the door knob like a life line makes it obvious. The backs of your thighs are still stained red and tensed taught to carry your weight. “Yeah I just...need to stretch is all..” “Uh-huh. Stretch.” Shouta’s just laughing at you. 

[sibsteria]

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Damian Wayne Dating HCs

Pairing :: older/adult!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader

Headcanon :: How Damian gets into and acts in a relationship

Word Count :: 1,676

Warnings :: N/A

A/N :: The image I’m using I created with Artbreeder. 

I didn’t call Damian “Robin” and referred to him as a vigilante because Dick stopped being Robin at 25, Jason 22, and Tim 18. The Damian I’m writing is 22. We don’t see much of Older!Damian, and when we do he’s either taken up the mantle of Batman or The Demon’s Head for The League Of Assassins

Getting into a relationship (all of this is in roughly a year) :

Neither you nor Damian know when you started dating, it just sort of happened

He met you at a bookstore you worked at, and you noticed he always came in buying older books about history, warfare, and strategies.

You found the warfare and strategies odd at first but chose not to question it

You asked him out first.

“Why do you always buy these books?” “I like history.” “Oh cool, I do too... Wanna hang out and talk about the First Battle of Tarain?”

You were joking, he said yes to get out of doing a thing with Tim

You each thought it was going to be a small amount of time spent together at some local cafe. You two ended up staying until closing talking about history.

This becomes a bi-weekly thing, you meet up at the cafe, talk until it closes, or go out and talk in a nearby park until sunset.

Damian’s family notices, but choose not to question what he’s doing because it’s seemingly making him less annoyed with people

Dick starts getting curious when he sees Damian smile just a tad bit looking at a text from you

You text him random facts all the time, but they’re weird. “Did you know squirrels are behind most power outages in the US?”

Eventually, you two stop talking about just history and start talking about other things that interest each of you and your personal lives. 

You open up more than Damian

Damian pays close attention when he notices you’re talking about something you’re genuinely passionate about He pays attention to detail in general.

For your birthday he got you a leather swiss army medic bag from WWII. You cried tears of joy and jumped onto him for a big long hug.

That was the first time Damian’s heart skipped a beat. After seeing you overjoyed, he realized he likes seeing you happy. It gave him a warm feeling, but he doesn’t know yet he has feelings for you.

Yours and Damian’s first “official date” was to a fancy Wayne Ent. event. This time Damian asked you. He’s super stiff.

“Would you like to accompany me to the upcoming-” “Are you asking me out on a date??” “No, I’m asking you to accompany me-” “I’ll go.”

No one in his family knows your coming, except for Alfred because he was asked to pick you up and bring you to the manor the day of. Alfred is confused the entire car ride because you act super chill

When you show up, the other boys surround you. Dick realizes who you are instantly, Jason thinks you’re not human, Tim is afraid you’re like Damian.

Bruce is silent, and a bit thankful his son found a normal human

Damian picked out your outfit: A fancy dark Sacramento green dress with black heels, a pearl necklace, and pearl bracelets to match.

You panicked when you saw the jewelry and Damian instantly goes into “comfort mode” to reassure you it’s fine. The family is shook.

At the actual event, you feel SUPER AWKWARD. Your family had enough to get by in life, so you feel very out of place around all the rich people

Damian can tell you’re uncomfortable and so he tries to hold onto you at all times to help you feel comfortable

Ex: He holds your hand, puts a hand on your shoulder, stands directly next to you so your arms are touching.

You eventually feel comfortable, but, you’re both bored there, so you suggest hiding in the outside garden

Finally alone, you two start talking about the other batboys

“Does Dick always try to show off odd party tricks?” “Only when he sees a pretty lady.”

“Why was Jason just standing in the corner looking at everyone?” “He doesn’t like dressing up.”

“Come on, there’s no way Tim’s actually happy here.” “Did you see him on the dance floor?” He has awesome dance moves, he’s just very energetic.

You eventually start talking about something else.

You can hear the music from inside, so you two start slow dancing together.

He’s holding one of your hands and has a hand placed on the small of your back. You rest your head on his shoulder and have your free hand flat on his chest.

It’s in this instant you each realize you have feelings for one another.

You two swayed around slowly until the song eventually ended.

When you two pull away, you stare into his green eyes briefly before you place a hand on his cheek and pull him down for a kiss.

Once In A Relationship :

You and Damian are a good pair because he’s serious and you’re go-with-the-flow. If he starts over-analyzing something, you start relaxing him. 

You two spend at least one day a week together, and you constantly text each other basic messages like “How was your day?”, “Are you okay?”, “Good morning/night”, “Have a nice day”

If you take over an hour to reply to Damian he gets anxious something bad happened to you.

He legitimately gets ready to start searching EVERY PART of Gotham until he gets a text “Sorry, I was taking a nap. Long day at work.”

When you two are together, you’re usually out or at your apartment. He only takes you to the manor if none of the other guys are there.

He took you once with everyone there. Never again.

Dick: “Oh my god! Look! He has a little girlfriend! How cute, Damian’s growing up.” “I’m 22.”

Tim: “You… You look so nice. Why? How is she so nice and you’re so… you.” “I’ll murder you and make it look like an accident.”

Jason: “How? Did you threaten her? Is he threatening you?” “Dames is super sweet.”

When you call Damian “Dames”, your nickname for him, they all lose their shit.

“DAMES?” “YOU HAVE A NICKNAME FOR HIM?” “DA-ME-SSS?” “DO YOU HAVE MORE?” “D-A-M-E-S?”

Your nicknames for Damian: Dame, Love, and Mr. Serious

Damian’s nicknames for you: Beloved, Love, and Sunflower

He briskly drags you away before you can say anything else, and you just go with it. 

“??I thought we were going to talk more to your brothers??” “They’re not my brothers.” “Okay. I appreciate you.” “.....I appreciate you too.”

You two don’t say “I love you” very often. Instead, you say “I appreciate you”. You do say “I love you” in private/intimate moments, but in public/at random you say “I appreciate you”

Damian isn’t possessive, just protective. There’s a difference. 

He’s never been in a serious relationship before and he’s never loved someone romantically like with you before, so he wants to make sure you’re safe and comfortable 24/7

The first time a random guy catcalled you while you were with Damian, he instantly defended your honor.

“What did you say?” He grabs the guy and easily raises him a foot off the ground. He forces the guy to apologize and lets him fall on the ground after.

Quickly, you reassured Damian he doesn’t need to go to such lengths to “defend your honor”. You tell him to ignore people like that guy because they’re nobodies.

After a few months, you start to pick up on the fact you two rarely spend time together after sunset.

You questioned him once about it and he quickly told you it’s because he helps his father with Wayne Ent. You never questioned him again.

You didn’t 100% believe his answer, but trust he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you

One time you called him crying at night. He was about to go on patrol, then dropped everything to go to your apartment and make sure you were okay.

Damian got a key to your apart about a year into the relationship.

There are times you go to sleep alone and wake up with him asleep, arms wrapped around you. He doesn’t do this often, only after a rough night on a patrol or a particularly dark mission.

Damian’s usually a realist, but when he sees you smile and laugh, he becomes an optimist for a split second

He isn’t big on PDA, so depending on his mood sometimes you hold hands when walking, other times you just lock your pinkies together.

When one of you notices the other is upset though, then you get touchy to calm the other down

Sometimes, when you two are alone at your apartment or the mansion, you don’t speak. You just rest and enjoy the silence while laying on top of one another.

If you lay on Damian, you’re literally on top of him snuggling into his chest. He holds one of your hands and rubs your back.

If Damian lays on you, you’re usually sitting and he places his head on your lap. You love playing and messing around with his hair.

When you found out Damian’s a vigilante, it was a massive accident

You called him while he was on patrol, whispering in a shaking voice that two men had broken into your apartment.

He booked it to your apartment and busted through the window, in costume.

After taking care of the guys and handing them over to the authority, he starts questioning you to make sure you’re okay. When you don’t answer he realizes he’s still in costume talking to you now.

You’re in shock because now a lot of things make sense.

You’re upset for about an hour(because Damian knows how to make you happy when you’re angry) and then you’re utterly fascinated by Damian’s other life

Damian tells you he doesn’t want you to know a lot because it could put you in danger and you’re the one part of his life that’s normal

You accept his wishes and continue with your relationship as normal.

There are only two things that changed:

One: Damian moves you to a more secure apartment and makes sure you have plenty of bats or batons you could use to protect yourself “just in case”

Two: Damian spends almost every night at your apartment after patrol now

[itsnsfwalways]

tease

word count: 4.8k

description: where y/n has a little too much fun teasing harry on the dance floor.

warnings: daddy kink, slight mean dom! h, bdsm, smut, choking, collars, slight exhibition, humiliation, spitting, degradation, pet names, literally just pure filth

—————————

You knew what you were doing. The extra hair shakes, body rolls, and lip bites dancing with your friends were unnecessary, and caused Harry to have to fix his pants multiple times while he watched you.

The last straw for Harry came when you began touching yourself over your dress, nipples poking through the expensive fabric. Harry knew you were enjoying the attention a bit too much, the little exhibitionist.

During a break between songs where you and your friends come back to the table for water, Harry pulled you into his lap, arm wrapping around you tightly. His lips go to your ear, nipping the lobe lightly before whispering,

"No talking once we leave here. When we get home you are to immediately go to the bedroom, strip, and wait."

Your heart stops for a second, before nodding adamantly and shakily inhaling. Harry takes notice of the way her hands tremble the next time she reaches for her glass, and he smirks. She has no idea what is in store for her.

You didn’t even want to be here at this point. Harry looked too fucking edible tonight. He chose to wear a deep royal blue fitted suit with white boots for no reason other than to make you sweat even more than he normally does. The way he’s sitting in the booth, conversing lightly with your friends’ partners and his security, but constantly having an eye on you. How he spreads his legs at all times wide enough so you’re able to slip between them whenever you want. How his hair has been growing out and it’s the perfect length to gather between your fingers and yank.

Finally, you are able to make a hasty goodbye, faking an early morning. You make a point to hug all of your friends, before finally making it back to Harry’s car.

Remembering the rules, your lips stay sealed. Your mind can’t help but wander so your fingers start picking at the ends of your dress before Harry notices, grabs one in his hand, and kisses a knuckle lightly. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, knowing that it’s been a while since you last did a scene and you’re a little nervous. His hand remains holding yours as you begin the drive back home, easily calming your anxiety.

Harry parks in the driveway and gets out of the car, coming around to your door.

“Shocker you could even remember to let me open your door, pet. Doesn’t seem like you care too much for your rules.” Harry tuts.

You swallow, nails digging into your palms to keep you from apologizing.

He takes your hand in his, delicately helping you out of the car. Guiding you with a hand on your low back to the front door, he pushes you in front of him lightly when he notices you shiver from the night air.

As soon as he unlocks the door, you take off your shoes, place them in the shoe rack by the door, and walk quickly into the bedroom.

Your mind still going a million miles a minute, you go the bathroom before stripping of your clothes and putting them in the hamper, making a mental note to do laundry tomorrow.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, your legs can’t help but tremble with excitement and nerves, a pool already forming between your legs. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of what he is about to do to you.

About ten minutes go by before you hear the click of the door and you quickly try to fix any mistakes that you may have made in your posture while waiting for Harry. Keeping your head down, your hair flowing over your face, you hear footsteps approach the middle of the room.

Harry circles you a few times, before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your face up to look him in the eyes, a gasp emitting from your lips.

Your eyes are already so glassy and doll-like, cheeks flushed, lips bitten red and just asking to be touched. Harry can't resist lovingly tucking a strand of hair behind your ears and giving you a short, sweet kiss on the lips before squeezing lightly on the chin still in his grasp.

"Do you know why you are in this position?"

You gulp and nod, remembering Harry‘s rule.

"Good girl. You may speak," Harry says, the praise making your stomach tighten and legs twitch.

"Thank you, Sir. I was being overly sexual and touching myself in public, Sir," You mewl out, incredibly turned on by the power exchange.

"Yeah, you were, weren't you?" Harry coos, voice mocking you and dripping with sarcasm. “Always have to have all eyes on you, have to have all the attention.”

Harry takes your chin and makes you nod your head exaggeratively at his words, mouth parting open as you stare directly in his eyes.

You can’t even breathe at this point. You had to be dripping onto the floor, but you can’t even focus on that right now. All you feel is harryharryharry.

His fingers move from your chin down to your throat, squeezing ever so lightly. Snapping out of it, you realize you never answered his question.

"Y-yes, Sir. I love the attention," You fumble out, the pressure on you throat making you almost dizzy with need.

“Do I not give you enough?” Harry asks, looking you directly in your eyes as he says this.

Your heart breaks a little at the look on his face and whimper out, “No, no, give me so much attention.”

“What? You just want more? You’re just a little slut who can never have enough, huh?” Harry says, hand leaving your throat and striking across your face once, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. The sting that lingers is deliciously warm. The pink handprint contrasts your skin for just a moment and you almost moan at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m your little slut.”

Harry’s eyes close at this, teeth biting his lower lips as he exhales sharply. Fuck, how does he deserve this. His cock twitches and he lightly moves a hand down to squeeze it slightly, catching your eyes following him.

He squats down, the contrast of his full suit and muscular body to your small frame making your head spin. “I think you’ve forgotten just who the fuck you’re dating, Y/N.”

His right hand grabs your cheeks, rings scratching your jaw lightly, before squishing them together. Taking the hint, you open up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he spits directly onto it.

Your eyes slip close, head tilting back lightly. Yes, yes, yes, this is exactly what you needed. To be disrespected and treated like a doll, to be used like this. Your pussy clenched around nothing, hips fighting against grinding on the floor.

Harry catches onto this, laughing at you.

“Oh, puppy. Are you really that worked up over me spitting on you?” He questions, laughing. The humiliation colors your face pink before he lets your cheeks go, leaving his thumb resting on your bottom lip. Pushing down lightly, he leans forward slightly over you, keeping that pretty red mouth open and waiting for him.

A long line of spit falls the short distance from his mouth into yours, this time a whimper escapes you as soon as you feel it pool onto your tongue. He was giving you himself, he was giving you everything you needed.

This time, your hips do buck up, but Harry puts a stop to that immediately. In a matter of seconds, his hips are pinned to yours on the rug, your wrists locked above his head in one of his hands while the other continues to touch your mouth.

His thumb plays with your bottom row of teeth, lightly tracing them, before hooking onto your jaw and pulling you closer up to him.

He presses a teasing kiss to your panting mouth, whispering,

“I don’t know if you deserve my cock, Y/N. You were a nasty thing out there tonight, would’ve let anyone get behind you and have their way with you.” This was a lie. Harry would be damned if he didn’t fuck you tonight, and you knew this. But god did it make it so much hotter when he talked to you like this.

“No, Daddy, all yours, I’m yours, please,” You beg, trying to lean in to kiss him.

Harry places his thumb back in your mouth and pushes down slightly on your tongue, gagging you. Your eyes water as you try and suppress it and suck his thumb deeper into your mouth.

He has a look on his eyes you’ve only seen Daddy have, a look that shakes you down to the very core of your being. He’s mad.

“You will take what I give you. Filthy fucking slut always getting her way. On the bed, head on the pillows, arms above your head and legs splayed out," he commands. You scramble off the ground to get into the position he wanted on the plush bed.

Harry had to remind himself to breathe in situations like this. Not because he was really that angry about you showing off or trying to kiss him, obviously he loved the attention as well and you both knew it was just to set the other person off. But because of how ethereal you looked. Hair splayed out on the pillow, miles and miles of beautiful bare skin, completely open and vulnerable and his to use. That power trip made his head spin almost as much as yours did.

Stripping himself of his suit, he leaves his white tank top and black briefs on, silver cross necklace dangling between his swallows. Grabbing some velcro straps, handcuffs, and one of his ties, just in case, he makes his way over to you.

“Are you going to listen to me, pet? I’d hate for you to not be able to touch me,” Harry fake pouts, laughing at you when you push your hands and feet deeper into then mattress. Sliding himself between your legs, he leaves a few inches of space between your aching clit and his bulge, your head falling back as you realize what’s about to happen.

Harry lightly moves his fingers down your chest, watching your breathing pick up. Goosebumps follow his movements, but you try your best to fight against arching your back into him. One hand finds a nipple and lightly teases the bud, playing with it using an index finger while his other scratches up and down your sides lightly.

"Because of that little stunt of yours, I think you deserve to be teased, don't you?" Harry rhetorically asks, pinching your nipple harshly at the last words.

You moan out and buck your hips before you’re able to spit out,

"Yes, Sir, whatever you think."

"I quite like the sound of that, whatever I think. Who's in charge here, darling? Why don’t you remind Daddy?"

He stares you directly in the eyes while saying this, a mocking confused look on his face.

“Y-You are, Daddy, you’re always in charge."

“Mm. That’s right. So you’re not just a dumb little plaything after all.”

Not even giving you time to think, Harry slips two fingers into your open mouth, allowing you to start going to work on wetting his fingers.

While you calmed down sucking on his fingers, Harry could barely fucking look at you. Licking his two fingers like your life depended on it, gagging and not even allowing yourself time to breathe before continuing on wetting them. He tests this theory, waiting for you to take a breath in before pinching your nose and pushing down ever so lightly on your tongue with his two fingers. Holding his breath in time with you, he slowly counts to five in his head before releasing your nose and pulling his fingers out of your mouth, allowing you to lick up the line of spit hanging between the two.

“Fuck, so good for me. There’s my doll.”

Gasping and eyes watering, your head chases his fingers for a second before his other hand grabs you by the throat and pushes you into the mattress. His fingers wrap around it almost completely, and you can feel him shaking with need. Eyes rolling into the back of your head as you swallow against him, he smacks you lightly to bring you back.

“Eyes up here. Don’t make me remind you again.”

Removing his hand, he trails down your stomach, scratching lightly on the sensitive skin. When he reaches your inner thigh, he pulls back his hand and slaps the skin, a loud noise filling the room.

Y/N chokes on a gasp and whimpers out,

“Collar, please, collar."

Harry smirks and removes his hand, going through their bag again and coming out with a thick leather collar, a strap attached to it.

Clipping it on the squirming submissive, he slides two fingers into the ring and tugs harshly, thriving off of the angelic noises emanating from his girl.

“‘S that better, puppy? Need to feel owned, huh?” He coos, tightening the leather around your neck.

“Yes, sir,” You exhale, swallowing thickly to feel the pressure against your throat.

“Thought so.” He whispered, letting go of the collar and moving to sit between your legs.

Your breath hitches as he starts lying kisses against your ribs.

“You better keep your hands and legs where they are, Y/N. Don’t make me have to keep you tied up.”

His words are in one ear out the other at this point, attention focusing on the way his lips move when he talks, how his rings send shivers up your thighs and directly into your core.

Harry scoots downwards on the bed, breath fanning against you as you force yourself not to buck up.

“Fuck, baby, you’re absolutely dripping,” Harry groans, tongue ever so lightly poking out to taste you.

“Please Daddy, please, please, I’ll be so good,” You cry out, just wanting to feel him.

He grins up at you, pressing a kiss lightly to the side of your lips, moving outwards to suck a bruise into the juncture of your hip and thigh.

A groan of frustration leaves you as your legs start shaking, clenching around nothing and barely breathing at this point.

A smack against your right ass cheek forces you to inhale, focusing on Harry once more.

“None of that. Tell me, who is in charge?”

“You are.” Another smack lands on you, same placement as before.

“Who decides what you receive?”

“You do, Daddy.” Another. This time on your left side, a whimper escaping as you arch your back into it.

"Your safewords are?"

You are quick to respond, spitting out,

"Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green is good."

"What's your color?"

"Green, so green, please, Daddy, please," you blubber, making Harry shush you softly.

Harry leans forward this time, fingers going into the D ring again. Leaning directly over you, hair falling into your eyes, he whispers, “Who’s my little fucktoy?”

“Fuck, Daddy, I am. Please. I’ll be such a good girl.”

“You will, won’t you? Because Daddy just likes to give in to whatever his babygirl wants, yeah? No, not tonight, baby.”

He gets off of you all of a sudden, standing up and going to sit in the large leather chair in the corner of the room.

You lay there dumbfounded until he says, “Well? Come here and kneel in front of me.”

Rolling off the bed on shaky legs, you crawl over to him, and god help him if that image ever left his mind.

You sit between his legs, hands neatly folded in your lap as you stare directly at his crotch, the outline of him very present.

“Up.” Harry commands, and your eyes snap to his face uncontrollably, your body seeming to answer faster than your brain could.

“Aren’t you just a pretty little puppy? Crawling over to come help your Daddy out, hmm?”

He leans forward, and you think he’s about to kiss you before you feel his spit land on your cheek.

His fingers move the saliva into your mouth, eyes locked on yours as he says, “Well go on, get me out.”

You whimper softly before trailing your hands along his happy trail, snapping the waistband against his skin lightly, before grabbing onto the briefs a and pulling them down his legs. Your mouth drops automatically as his cock pops up and slaps him in the stomach.

Harry had the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Not only was it fucking huge, it was so thick, filled you up to the point where you could see him through your stomach, and fuck did that turn the both of you on. His mushroom tip was a bright red, slightly damp with his precum, and the few veins you loved to lick already popping up.

You looked up at him again, hands massaging his thighs as you asked,

“Can I please suck you off, Daddy?”

“That’s all your good for isn’t it? Let me use that pretty mouth, doll face.”

Your tongue falls out immediately, licking the underside of his head, before taking the tip in your mouth and lightly suckling on it, eyes glued to Harry’s.

“Fuck, princess. Go on, get me all nice and wet for you.”

Your tongue immediately starts to lick him from base to tip, making sure to point your tongue and follow along the bulging veins going up his shaft. You spend extra time giving him the lightest of kitten licks at his top, knowing how mad that drove him.

“Fucking hell, baby. God, Y/N, so fucking good for me,” Harry groans, head leaning back against the chair for support.

His hips start to lightly buck up until your mouth, and you reach your nails up to scratch his laurels, knowing that little bite of pain was only adding fuel to the fire.

He takes your hair in his fist, wrapping it around his knuckles once before pulling you down onto his cock, the gagging noise you made making him that much harder.

“What a good little slut,” He groans, punctuating his words with a thrust into your mouth.

“Arms back,” He orders, and you immediately put your arms behind your back, wrists grabbing your elbows.

You hollow out your cheekbones and Harry just about dies in his chair, hand reaching up to squish your cheeks together even more, feeling himself in your mouth from the outside.

He lets out a guttural moan, the sound going straight to your clit. Your hips buck up to try and get some friction, and Harry notices immediately, pulling you off him. Letting out large pants, you lean forward, eager to have him back in your mouth, but a quick slap to the face stuns you for a few seconds, slightly slipping into that fuzzy space you sometimes get to.

“None of that. Yes?”

“Yes, yes sir, please let me have you, please,” You gasp out spit dripping from your mouth onto your thighs, eyes red rimmed and tear tracks running down your face.

Harry can’t say no to you looking like that. He feeds his tip back to you lightly, only allowing you to take half of him in your mouth.

“Eyes up.” He pauses to wait for you to look at him, a whimper from you sending vibrations through his cock.

“Aren’t you just a gorgeous little puppy for me, hmm? Doing just what Daddy tells her to.”

You whimper loudly around him, thighs shaking as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Fuck,” Harry laughs. “Are you that desperate to cum that you could get off just from me talking to you?”

You look up at him and nod, knowing he has before.

Before you can even think, Harry has picked you up and sat you on his lap with your back facing him, his cock rubbing against your folds.

“Fuck,” Harry drawls our, “You’re dripping, baby. What a good girl you’ve been so far, letting Daddy do what he wants.”

You can’t help but try and grind against him, head falling onto his chest as you cry out,

“Please Daddy, please fuck me. I’ve been so good, please.”

He reaches an arm around and brings a hand to your throat, holding your neck against him, while the other goes around and splays his hand on your stomach, pinning you to his chest.

This was one of Harry’s favorite positions. You couldn’t do anything but just take what he was giving you, completely give yourself up to him and let him use you.

“Have you? I don’t know about that, moppet.” His left arm trails down your stomach before going down and beginning to lightly play with your clit, tracing the lightest of circles directly on top of it.

“Fuck, thank you daddy, thank you, thank you.” He gasp out, arms gripping the edges of the chair.

He moves his middle finger down to dip into you slightly, collecting your moisture on the tip of his finger and pulling it up to his mouth, licking it clean off. He tilts your head to the side, giving you a filthy open mouthed kiss, all tongue and heavy breathing, Harry feeling as if he’s fucking you with his mouth right now.

All of a sudden, he pinches your clit harshly, a shocked gasp escaping you as he begins rubbing quickly, legs immediately starting to quiver on top of him.

Pulling your neck back farther, he growls into your ear,

“If you want me to even touch you for the rest of the night, you will cum right now. Right fucking now. Cum on my fucking fingers.”

A high pitched moan leaves you as you hopelessly grind down on him, cumming as soon as he says the word. Your chest heaves as he works you through your orgasm.

“There’s my good little slut. Finally following orders, huh?” Harry gasps out, thighs flexing with restraint.

“Yes, sir,” You cry out, feeling his tip press against your entrance.

He lifts you up by your hips before slamming you down onto him, taking him to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you immediately start rocking your hips back and forth, the pressure on your clit almost unbearable.

Harry moves his hand from your throat onto the D ring, fingering the loop and pulling it in time with his thrusts, the pressure making your head swarm and feel as if you’re in a dream.

“Needy girl,” he grits into your ear, fucking up into you at a slow, steady pace.

“Only for you, Daddy,” you cry, turning your head to the side to suck a mark into Harry’s neck.

You feel the vibrations from his moan against your tongue and you whimper slightly, his thrusts starting to fill you up more and more.

“You’re so tight for me, fuck, puppy, all for me, yeah?”

“All for you, God you’re so big,” You moan out, keeping your face in his neck to focus on breathing.

His cock fits so snugly inside of you, it truly feels as if you were made for each other. With another thrust, he hits a spot inside of you the two of you are far too familiar with, a sharp cry ripping itself from your vocal chords as he begins mercilessly fucking up into you.

Pulling the ring forward, Harry forces your eyes to the ceiling, other hand reaching down to rub your clit.

“I’ll show you what a little attention whore deserves. I’ll treat you like the dirty slut you are, only here to please ME, aren’t you? I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, who gets to fuck you like this, til you’re just a dumb little puppy.”

You begin to thrash on him, shaking with the need to come that he releases his grip on your throat to hold you in place against him. In doing so, he presses on your stomach and you scream, crying out and vision going black for a second.

“Fuck, you like that, baby? That I’m so deep inside you can feel me in your little tummy. Reminds you that you’re my cum slut, just wants to be filled by her Daddy.”

“Daddy, please,” You gasp out, hands going around to wrap around his neck, whole body shaking.

“Please can I cum, please, please,” You gasp, unable to do anything but have a vice grip on him while you try not to come.

Harry leans down and bites on your neck, groaning loudly right on your pulse point as he fucks faster into you, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, goddamn babygirl, fuck, cum. Cum right now.”

He slaps your clit harshly, left hand going back to tighten around your throat, tilting your head up and spitting into your mouth. The majority of it ends up on your cheek and you cum.

Fuck, do you cum. Your body feels like it’s not even yours at this point, pleasure flooding every single particle in your body, mind going blank as you loll your head back onto his chest. Your legs shake so much you feel as if you are vibrating head to toe, tits bouncing freely and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room.

Harry has never seen you like this, grinding so quickly on his cock, throat tilted back making the most primal of sounds.

He pistons his hips and cums shortly after you, releasing a deep groan into your ear.

Your body goes limp around him, but continuing to clench around him, tiny gasps coming from your parted lips.

Harry pulls his head off the back of the chair and grabs your face to get a good look at you.

Hair messy, mascara everywhere, eyes rolled into the back of your head with spit covering your chin, you looked like an angel.

“Fuck, princess,” Harry moans, thrusting lightly inside of you.

You whimper lightly at his movement and he takes the hint, pulling out. Turning you around to face him, he lifts you up and places you softly on the bed, a cool towel already on the nightstand ready.

He takes his time wiping you down, starting at your face and making his way to your aching pussy, lightly patting the area.

He glances up at your facial expressions, and upon seeing a blissful smile, licks into you, tongue gliding against your walls.

Harry tastes himself on you and groans into you, taking his time making you cum once more, before coming to lay down next to you, wiping his face off.

“What a good girl you were, so good for me, weren’t you Y/N?” He whispers, lightly stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

This was the closest thing to heaven you were ever going to get. You felt like you were on cloud nine, body buzzing with adrenaline and brain feeling like mush. Harry was so good at taking care of you in this state, and that made you want to come to more than anything else.

While Harry lightly kisses your parted lips, cheeks, and forehead, your head nuzzles into his hand, eyes fluttering a little bit.

“Hi sweet girl,” He smiles, eyes full of nothing but adoration and love. He idolized you. He worshipped

you.

“Hi Daddy,” you mumble, pursing your lips for a kiss.

He happily obliges, kissing you very sweetly, knowing you were very sensitive right now.

“Do you need anything? Wanna take a nice warm bath, baby?” Harry asks, nuzzling his nose with yours, his playfulness causing you to finally open your eyes fully.

“Hug?” you mumble, and Harry let’s out all of his air at your simple question.

“Of course, little one. C’mere, we’ll have a nice long snuggle and then we go pee and clean up.”

He pulls you under the covers with him, wrapping his arms fully around you so you’re being pushed against his chest, his head resting on yours.

You kiss lightly along his neck, just trying to calm down from what just happened.

“How you feeling, lover? Awfully quiet in m’ arms,” Harry questions, kissing the top of your head and adjusting you to look up at him.

“So good. Just a lot. I’m sorry for doing that tonight. Just wanted you.” You mumble, fingers playing with your hair.

“Hey, none of that, it’s okay Y/N. I was trying to rile you up too. Why’d I wear one of my suits out on a night off?”

Your nose scrunches and you bite his pec lightly, Harry releases a loud laugh at this.

The two of you lay there just holding each other for quite a bit before you mumble out,

“Bath time?”

Harry smiles at you, kissing your forehead for a few seconds.

“‘Course. Let’s go hop in.”

—————

A/N ahhhhh okay hi i’m lana this is my first tumblr smut kinda thing, i hope you like it !!! i’m super new to this so please be patient, but i’d love some requests !!! long fics, one shots, blurbs, i’m down for it all. also love mgg, criminal minds, and a whole lotta other fandoms so i’m opening to writing those too.

[loveless-scribes]

Uchiha Itachi: NSFW Alphabet

So, it has come to my attention that Itachi of the Uchiha has been done a disservice in the eyes of the internet and been called terrible names. *COUGH* vanilla *COUGH* basic *HACK* I assure you, my friends, nothing could be further from the truth! And so, I present to you, my interpretation of the one and only. Enjoy.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional. It is just as much a part of the experience as foreplay and the actual sex. 

Will he clean you up? Not religiously, like it’s something he’ll do every time, but yes, he would. If you’re still feeling tired or lingering in bed by the time he’s gotten cleaned up, he wouldn’t think twice and just take care of you as well. If you mention that you think it’s sweet or you enjoy it, then… YES, he would absolutely start doing this religiously. 

Expect hairstroking and holding you to his chest, letting you listen to his heartbeat. If you want to share your 4 AM thoughts here, he’ll be down for it and let you know what he thinks about your ideas. After you’ve fallen asleep he will stay awake sorting through his thoughts, over what it means to have you by his side and the risks involved for you. This is pretty much the only time in the day that it’s safe to be vulnerable with his thoughts and so, this is where he will think about what you mean to him, and press a kiss to your forehead before finally going to sleep himself. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eyes, definitely. The eyes are known to be the windows to the heart and his own eyes define so much of his life and his destiny, so yes, he could stare into his partner’s eyes for an almost uncomfortably long time, drinking them in. I can’t really say he’s a butt or boobs guy cuz that’s not how his mind is wired. He’s wired to be mission-oriented and there’s no room in his mind for distractions but on his S/O he would appreciate and worship every inch of her. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Um… breeding kink, anyone? Defo see him as having one. Is this an underlying psychological thing because he was deprived of having a normal family? At the same time, though, he’s in no rush to have children of his own, because he knows what a terrible place this world can be. But the desire to spill his seed deep into his S/O’s womb is deeply ingrained. Modern birth-control would really solve this problem. 

Also, swallowing. *COUGH* If someone does this for him it will go straight to his head. Prepare to be rewarded. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hmm… I almost feel guilty about characterizing him like this, but I could see him somewhere deep down having a desire to have his partner submit to him? Not in the sense that he would ask for that, but if he had a wet dream about his S/O she would probably be on her knees, and he would feel guilty about it the next day and be a little sweeter than usual to her. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay! So, this is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Itachi is inexperienced! Even if we take Canon!Ita (but maybe age him up a little) I feel like there could be situations, mission-related, or pursued by women he objectively finds appealing, where saying no is just more inconvenient than going along with it. Especially if it’s for the sake of a mission, he wouldn’t think twice. Or if he does it in order to not blow his cover. While he does largely turn admirers away, more for their own good and because he’s generally not interested, I do believe he could have realistically encountered situations in his travels that led to sexual encounters. He hasn’t taken a vow of chastity, so I don’t see why he should go to unreasonable lengths to say no?

So yeah, in my mind he definitely has some experience, but not a whole lot. Obviously, he takes necessary precautions to ensure those brief dalliances stay just that. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hahahaha, so I had to do some research to find out what this position is called. The Mastery? Basically, it’s woman on top but the couple is in a seated position. Meaning, he gets to look into your eyes and just basically, the heightened intimacy and closeness of this position are what does it for him. Also, he has more control than in the normal girl-on-top position, so he can control the pace somewhat and help you out. 

But if you’re tired, he’ll pick you up and flip positions, he won’t wait for you to admit you’re tired and he won’t listen to your protests. He wants to see you out of your mind in ecstasy, not wondering whether or not you’re too tired to continue. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alright, so it’s Itachi, right? He isn’t very jokey. That just is what it is. He might do something unintentionally that might make you giggle, or you could laugh out of nervousness and while he very much enjoys that sound he doesn’t really know how to provoke it from you. It’s just not his area of expertise. (Sorry, Ita. Couldn’t give you this one.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hmm… well, Itachi definitely is clean by nature, and is definitely well-groomed and particular in all aspects of his life, so… I’m going to go with trimmed. Neat and orderly. Just like everything else about him. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I lowkey just want to link my oneshots to this, cuz they say it all, but alright! He will want to be connected to his S/O. That means either being able to see her face, or if the position doesn’t allow for it to hear her voice the entire time. He’s good at that. He’s so sweet and considerate and perceptive. He knows what’s working for you and what isn’t even without you saying a word, He may not have a whole lot of experience, but he has an innate talent (because doesn’t he just… with everything?) and he’s an exceptionally quick learner. He will legit ruin you for anyone else because if you ever ARE with anyone else and they snap at you, “What do you think I am, a mind reader?” You’ll realize what Itachi was doing.

So, yeah. He wants to make sure you’re into it and you’re taken care of and you’re near delirious with pleasure before he decides to let go himself. Being self-sacrificial and caring for others is in his nature. So, yeah, you really need to man up and figure out what he needs because he isn’t going to tell you. But you’re smart. You’ll work it out. (OR JUST READ THE REST OF THIS ALPHABET.)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sorry, no. Don’t see him doing this. You have to consider how disciplined the guy is, and how insanely busy. It really is kind of a waste of time at the end of the day and if he wants it that badly, he can just make the trip to see you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Teasing, edging, getting you to beg. He feels bad for you, he really does. But how much more can you take? You won’t know until you know. He’ll reward you for your patience though. And let’s be honest, you’ll love it, teasing and all. Not to mention mindfucking you to oblivion.  

So, I went through an alleged “complete” list of 239 kinks to try and answer this question and most of it was just… weird. So, let’s do this differently. What follows is an incomplete list of things I could potentially see him being into or good at or have an interest in. In no particular order: mirrors, sub/dom play (with a little coaxing and admitting to himself that this is even a thing that he’s into. It would absolutely be limited to the bedroom, though), sensory deprivation, and.... bear with me here, but… I could see him having a hand for Shibari. THINK ABOUT IT. Those knots and things they learned to tie in the ninja academy? And we know Itachi is the best of the best in everything he does. So, I don’t think this is beyond the realm of possibility. 

Generally speaking, though, he just doesn’t have the time for this stuff. BUT IF HE DID…

And now, this is exclusive to AM!Ita but he most likely has a praise kink. Being hated and cursed for eons, and being disillusioned with his own role, if his S/O comes in and tells him how great he is, how handsome, how wonderful. How good he is at what he does. How wonderful he makes her feel. Mmmm. I can see that doing things to him. XD

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally, in a lake or a river. Outdoor bathing spaces are generally approached with caution, so even if someone were to come by they would call out and make sure no one is there first, which means, less risk of getting caught. And I mean, this is Itachi… He’s an S-rank exiled nin. HE KNOWS HOW TO NOT GET CAUGHT. LOL. But yeah, he spends a lot of time out-of-doors. He’s more accustomed to the starry sky overhead than the roof of a house or woodland cabin. In my interpretation, he feels very much at peace when surrounded by nature and he would enjoy being intimate with you in that setting. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Confidence. Enthusiasm. Not necessarily seduction, if it’s a stranger he’s dealing with, this is more of a turn-off than anything. But if it’s his S/O and she turns up the charm and crooks a finger at him… You might even get a smile on that stoic face. I don’t see him being into the shy and stuttering type. If you blush and say, “No! St- stop!” He’ll literally stop. And probably apologize. AND NOT DO IT AGAIN.

If you try and explain to him that your no doesn’t mean no… Ah, yeah. He’s not into that. Be straightforward. Say what you mean. Don’t play games with him. He’ll see right through you. 

That being said, being a lonely fighter all his life means he’s very sensitive to your touch. Just run a hand along his shoulder in passing and he’ll grab it and press a kiss to your palm, and haul you in. I could see him being into your hands. It really isn’t hard to turn him on, it’s hard to earn his trust and a position in his life that gives you the right to touch him and be touched by him. But when you’re there, it’s the easiest thing in the world. A smile, a kiss, a brush of your fingers over his collarbones. He’s a goner. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pegging. This goes without saying. I can’t really think of much else he wouldn’t be into. I mean, stuff that’s a little more out there. Watersports. Daddy/Mommy kinks. Actual exhibitionism, (not genjutsu version) no way is he going to let anyone look in on your most intimate moments. Impact play. He knows very well what his hands are capable of, and there’s a lot of blood on them, so he really wouldn’t be into stuff that involves actually hurting you. 

If his S/O likes it VERY rough, he might resort to genjutsu so that she gets what she wants, but he doesn’t have to actually hurt her. Other than that, bruising, choking, the usual level of roughness? Bring it on. Being adept with his hands also means he knows very well where that fine line between pain and pleasure is. 

Not to mention, he’s very perceptive, so he’ll figure out what you’re into even without you saying it. He’s also very giving so he’ll focus more on your preferences than his own. But if the day ever comes where you realize what submission does to him… The man would be putty in your hands. Kukukukuku...

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both. 

Giving, because he has absolute control over your pleasure, and because he enjoys how easily he can drive you out of your mind. We’ve established that he’s a terrible tease, so driving you to the brink and leaving you hanging, feeling every single one of your reactions… It’s good stuff. 

Receiving takes the cake though. Being that vulnerable with someone, even having someone he can trust that much. It’s definitely something he’s very partial to, something that makes him soft towards you, and something that plays into his forbidden desire of seeing you submit, whether or not he’s aware of it. He’ll make sure to return the favor tenfold.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is an odd question I think, because… doesn’t it depend? On how much time he has, on how the two of you are feeling, on what the mood is? 

Anyways, I’m going to go ahead and say slow and sensual because he really is a man who likes to take his time with you. He likes to feel every one of your responses, hear every little mewl and whimper and moan that crosses your lips. He definitely makes it an experience. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his preference, but he isn’t above having a quickie if that’s all that time allows. But he would definitely follow up with a proper session at a later time, then. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is so nice. He really is. There’s nothing you could want that he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once for your sake. I mean, apart from the stuff listed under “N”. 

And would he take risks? YES, HE WOULD. Because his assessment of the risks varies greatly from yours. So, something that you would think is very risky, might seem not risky at all to him, because he knows exactly how to go unseen, unnoticed. You might think he’s being risky, but he’s well aware there was a 0% chance you were going to get caught. Because Itachi skillz.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina! *insert sparkles* AM!Ita has been established in the works, so I think that needs no comment. Canon!Itachi is a freaking fighter. An S-class exiled nin. Someone who claims Itachi has no stamina wants to start something with me. DID YOU SEE HIM HAND SASUKE’S ASS TO HIM? Despite his illness? He lost because he CHOSE to lose. I don’t see the Akatsuki hauling out a wheelchair for Itachi to go on his missions, so don’t go telling me nothing about Itachi having no stamina. SHAKE MY HEAD WHILE JUDGING YOU.

Dude is strong as hell. And you can’t tell me some bedroom fun is more physically taxing than literal superhuman battles against huge ass tailed beasts! It’s just ridiculous. I’m not here to rant. Better calm down.

I’m here to tell you our man can go for at least three rounds and you will *GUARANTEED* always tire out before he does. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes. The sharingan. THE ONLY TOY YOU WILL EVER NEED. As mentioned above, he’s not above using his skills to heighten your pleasure, and mess with your mind. But actual, physical toys? Nah, the thought processes that would lead to considering, comparing, and actually purchasing those are just so foreign to his thinking. It would never even cross his mind. What can a toy even do that he can’t do better? (To his thinking anyway. Well, he’s not wrong.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will make you beg. Absolutely. He’s totally unfair. He will have casual conversations with you while driving you out of your wits. And then he’ll ask you why you’re not answering him. Ask you what’s wrong. Ask you what you want. LIKE HE DOESN’T KNOW. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Itachi is very restrained and disciplined so, unfortunately, this means he isn’t very vocal. I know, cry with me, it’s such a waste. *hires an orchestra of the world’s smallest violins* BUT that means when you do manage to make him groan or moan in pleasure, it’s such a huge ego boost. Apart from the sounds he makes when hitting a climax, he’s generally in control and whispering praise and teasings into your ear or over your skin.

If you want him to talk, get on your knees and give him some head. Not kidding. Mentioned it above already. He gets to let go, a lot of his secret kinks are getting fulfilled, he feels vulnerable and is cool with it. He’ll dig his hands into your hair, cup your cheek, his eyes will roll into the back of his head and he’ll tell you on a low moan what a good girl you are. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

So, let’s say you’re waiting to talk to him and he’s busy meeting with some people or whatever and you’re standing off to the side patiently. He just briefly glances at you before turning back to his comrades and BOOM. Next thing you know, he’s got you by the neck, has you pinned against his desk/table/whatever (this was originally a Hokage!Ita headcanon so do with that what you will), and is doing unspeakable things to you in front of everyone. No sooner does the encounter come to an end, than you suddenly wake up and find yourself still standing right where you were, until it happens again, and this time he takes you against the wall. It’s an illusion wrapped in an illusion wrapped in an illusion more times than you can count and when you finally do come to your senses, you can barely stand. The meeting is over. Itachi turns toward you, “You wanted to speak with me?”

Ah, yes. Good old Itachi mindfuckery.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I mean, muscles, yes? Lots of them. Man’s fit as a fiddle. He’s a ninja. So, yes, the entire delicious length of him is covered in lean, firm muscle. He’s clearly well-endowed because… he just is. Maybe not the longest cucumber in the farmer’s market (which isn’t to say he isn’t long, because he is… don’t claim I called him short) but thick and veiny and above all else, attached to a man with a brain who knows how to use it efficiently. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This is a tough one, because the constraints are not on his drive, but on his time. He’ll take whatever chances he can to be with you. AM!Ita is established to have a very high sex drive, but he also has restraint, so when you’re not into it, he’s cool with it. As if that would ever happen. So, I would have to say, the actual encounters will unfortunately be far between because of his lifestyle, but he will always make up for lost time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kind of already mentioned this above, that those moments afterwards with you are his most vulnerable moments where he feels relatively safe and at ease, so he stays awake for a long time after, sorting through his thoughts. Also, he won’t say this to you, but it’s his job to protect you, so there is no way he’ll fall asleep before you do. Not gonna happen.

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 3

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Things did not go back to normal.

You’d opened the door Tuesday morning, expecting the usual empty apartment for your next shift. Only, Todoroki had been there again, stretched out on his couch, a book in hand and what looked like an empty tea mug perched on the coffee table next to him. He was in a pair of dark slacks and another soft looking button up, rolled up at the elbows, and he did not look like he was planning on going anywhere.

“Oh, um, is now not a good time?” you asked, freezing in the doorway.

Todoroki looked up from his book, and you took a surprised step back. Damn, he was handsome. Apparently the weekend had dimmed your memory of just how handsome.

“I have the day off,” he said in his low, even tone. “I hope I won’t be in your way.”

You stared. “Oh, no. Just...uh, do your thing.”

He nodded, and you ducked down under the sink to grab your supplies again, then beat a hasty retreat to start in his bedroom while he wasn’t in it. It felt weird being in his room when he was just outside, but you powered through your usual checklist of items, making his bed, sweeping the floor, and wiping down all the furniture. When you got to the ensuite, you couldn’t help but check around for evidence of a secret lover, now that it was a hot topic of discussion, but didn’t find much beyond his sparse collection of toiletries.

It was disappointing that you’d been subjected to so much for a rumor that apparently wasn’t even true.

When you made it back to the kitchen, Todoroki was already there, seated at the island like he meant to talk to you again.

You startled and fumbled the disinfectant. “W-will I be in your way?”

He watched you evenly, a small smile pulling at his mouth. “I did tell you I planned on protecting my countertops.”

You let out a shocked laugh, delighted he’d remembered your conversation from last week. “We’ll see about that, hero. I have my ways.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not to worry, I have a backup plan if careful supervision fails.”

You looked at him curiously, and he produced a thin package in plain brown paper, sliding it across the granite at you like money in a television drug deal. He looked so suspiciously blank while he did it, the whole move almost made you want to laugh.

You settled for staring instead, wondering what he wanted you to do with the package. Were you supposed to put it somewhere? He sensed your confusion and gestured at it with one long-fingered hand.

“For you," he said. "A bribe to ensure the safety of my kitchen surfaces. It seemed to work last time.”

Oh, he meant the tulips. Had he really gotten you something else? Did he really still feel that guilty?

You smiled and waved a brash hand at him. “Oh! You don’t--that isn’t, I mean--you don’t need to give me anything. I meant what I said about calling it even.”

Then you remembered another unnecessary gift he’d given you and stuck your hand in your back pocket, fishing out the leftover tip from last time. “Oh, also this! You gave me too much last time. I took the amount your manager usually leaves.”

Todoroki looked at you strangely. You knew from your ventures on the internet that he was about your age, but he had this way of looking at you like he’d spent a hundred years traveling the world and still found you to be the strangest thing he’d encountered in it. You flushed pink.

“I was given to understand that there were vegetables in need of buying,” he said simply.

You pushed the money at him. “Yeah, which I can do with my normal amount, Todoroki. This is like buy a whole farmer’s market worth of vegetable money.”

He stared blankly at you. “I intended for you to keep it.”

You stared back. Of course he had intended that, but it wasn’t the right amount. Did he not understand how money worked? Why was he being like this?

Todoroki pushed both the package and the money back at you, fixing you with one of the most intent looks you’d ever been on the receiving end of. You felt your cheeks darken. “Last time...I don’t believe we introduced ourselves when we agreed to start over.”

You peered at him curiously. The conversation change seemed abrupt, and strange, like he was trying to distract you from arguing any further. Were you making him uncomfortable?

“Shouto,” he held out a large, long-fingered hand, like he intended for you to shake it.

You reached out hesitantly. His hand was warm, rough with callouses, and something shivery went down your spine when he closed his hand around yours. “Um, Y/N,” you supplied.

“Y/N,” he repeated to himself, and the sound of your name in his mouth fed the weird, shivery feeling. You pulled your hand away from his, and turned to the opposite counter to hide your face from him. God, was it impossible for you to keep your cool around him? Why were you so embarrassing?

Todoroki seemed undeterred by your sudden shyness, keeping up a steady stream of conversation as you worked your way through his kitchen. You wondered at his determination to speak to you, when in the media he seemed so aloof and kind of reclusive. His tone was quiet, and his manner fairly obtuse, as expected, but compared to what you’d heard of him previously, he seemed much kinder.

Todoroki surprised you even further by following up on topics from your previous conversation, which was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that everything he asked about seemed so normal and boring. You wondered why he’d even bothered to ask about the paper you’d complained about last time, when he spent his days literally fighting super villains. Papers were evil, sure, but nothing on the level of actual villains.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, when you failed to respond to his question about your paper.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I was just--surprised that you would ask, is all. Hearing about university has to be boring after everything you do all day.”

You were surprised by a low laugh. “Not really. I’d never considered going--being a hero was all I’d ever given thought to. It’s all my friends ever considered as well. It's...interesting to talk about something that isn't villains or attacks or strategy.”

You thought this over. “Still, though. It can hardly be what you actually want to talk about.”

“It’s...relaxing,” Todoroki allowed. “Thinking about something that is so different from what I do. It’s...nice.”

You thought on this. You couldn’t tell if he was just being nice or if he truly meant it, as he was kind of hard to get a read on, but you supposed if he was telling the truth, you could humor him. Maybe it really was nice to take a break from heroics, to explore other topics of conversation that didn’t carry the weight of human lives on them.

“Well if you really want to know, then my paper’s almost finished,” you said. “The cranky roommate was distracting all weekend so I spent Sunday churning it out in a coffee shop. The fancy one near campus with the nice beans, so it was actually a pretty good time.”

He asked the name of it, and you gave it, wondering if he was into coffee too. He didn’t look like a coffee guy, but then it was hard to tell anything with him. He was so unlike anything you’d expected him to be.

Things got weird again when you finally worked your way over to the island where he’d apparently pushed the money and the brown paper package even closer to you. You stared down at them.

“I’d like for you to accept them,” Todoroki said firmly, once he noticed you looking.

“I didn’t get you anything,” you said, feeling strangely squirmish. “I thought we agreed we’d call it even.”

The look on his face told you he’d agreed to no such thing.

“They’re not apologies,” he said simply. “They’re gifts.”

You looked at him, but he didn’t elaborate any more than that, and your sense of confusion only swelled. What was this all about, really? Was this normal for him? You wondered at the strangeness of the situation you’d found yourself in, and had a hard time concluding what the right thing to do was. Eventually, however, you took a tentative step closer to the counter. Your curiosity about what was in the package was gradually overwhelming your good sense and confusion. Maybe you could accept that and leave the money?

You said as much to him. “This is---really nice of you. I do mean what I said about the tip, though. I can’t accept that,” you mourned the lost vegetables, “but, um, I will accept this? If that’s okay?”

Todoroki looked like he wanted to argue, but at your pointed look, he seemed to reconsider, watching you evenly with those heterochromatic eyes. “Very well,” he said by way of acknowledgement, but something in his tone told you this wasn’t over.

You eyed him. He might be a pro hero and have cash to fling around, but you weren’t a push over. If he thought he’d get his way by arguing more, he was in for a rude awakening. You apparently had no reservations about telling one of the world’s most famous heroes to go fuck himself if pressed. He wasn’t going to win this battle either.

Slowly, you turned back to the brown paper package, carefully sliding a nail under the tape and unwrapping carefully. A fresh copy of your favorite author’s newest book stared up at you, and you couldn’t help the way your fingers clenched down possessively. Oh no.

You gaped at Todoroki. “What--?”

He looked kind of smug, like he knew just how much you liked it. “You mentioned it, last time. You said you liked reading but didn’t have the budget for books during the semester.”

Christ, had he actually been listening the whole damn time? First the vegetables and your paper, and now this? What the hell else had you said to him? What was the fastest way to cause a concussion and make him forget it all? Was this a good enough reason for joining the witness protection program?

“Todoroki, I can’t accept this,” you said.

“You said you would,” he replied. “Am I to assume you lied to me?”

Your mouth dropped open. Was he...teasing you? It was almost impossible to tell with that controlled expression and tone...but there was a glint in his eye that spoke volumes. You’d seen it before, mostly in drunk friends who were about to make mischief. Who would have thought that the notoriously deadpan number four hero had it in him?

“I’m serious,” you said. “This is too much. I loved the flowers, but you seriously don’t need to get me stuff. I know you said they’re gifts but they feel like apologies and I really don’t want that.”

Todoroki watched you closely, then rifled a hand through that red and white mop of hair. “I propose a trade for it, then, if you won’t accept it as a gift.”

You peered at him in curiosity.

“You will call me Shouto in return,” he said.

You let out a flat laugh. “That’s hardly an even deal. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” he replied, something like annoyance flecking his deep tone. He took a breath. “But one other condition, then, if you insist.”

You wondered what else he would ask for if his first request had been so ridiculous. Your first born child, maybe? A dress spun of moonlight? For you to solve these riddles three?

“Your phone number,” he said. “I’d like to text you.”

You gaped at him. He wanted what now?

“Todoroki, a name and a phone number are not payment for a gift like this,” you said slowly, trying to ignore the way your brain was rapidly entering what the fuck mode. He couldn’t be serious. “You need to trade for something you’d actually like.”

“Have you considered,” he said, “that I might like to be your friend?”

You stopped short. Oh that was...so straightforward. And also kind of nice? And also really cute?

You suddenly felt guilty for staring at him like he was a fool to ask. Was he really trying to be your friend? Was this just how deadpan rich boys did things?

“Oh, um, no,” you admitted. “I hadn’t, uh, considered. But I would like that. Being your friend.”

A slow warmth pooled in your fingertips at the idea. You did not understand this man at all, but you liked the little ironic sense of humor that sat under all the rest of it. And the way he’d apologized and had listened to your ramblings and was currently trying to befriend you was actually really sweet. You would actually like to be his friend, if that’s what he really wanted.

“Then my name and your phone number is my trade,” he said firmly.

You nodded slowly. There was a vague sense in the back of your mind like you’d just been tricked somehow, but you didn’t explore it. He’d seemed straightforward enough...right?

He handed off his phone to you for you to plug your number in, and you wondered wildly what your life was now, and what exactly Shouto Todoroki thought the two of you were going to text about.

Todoroki also hovered over you as you added him to your contacts, making sure he displayed as his first name specifically, and you laughed. “What if I know another Shouto?”

“Then you can change his contact to his family name,” Todoroki said dryly.

You huffed a laugh. Straightforward was definitely the right word for him.

After that, you fell into a somewhat easier conversation, buoyed by the knowledge that Todoroki intended to make friends. He asked you more about your life as a student, particularly interested in your thoughts on the books you’d read for lecture, your impressions of your professors this year, and your schedule and favorite haunts between classes.

In return, he shared details of his own work, stories of his time at UA, and details on some of his friends whose personal effects you’d seen around his apartment. It was so interesting to hear about the pros from someone who actually knew them personally, and it gave them dimension you would have never assigned to them yourself. It was certainly news to you that Katsuki Bakugou was a top-tier cook and could actually stop swearing and sit still long enough to make something.

You cleaned as you talked, and then found yourself lingering a little longer even after your shift had finished, enraptured by the conversation. Todoroki was so weirdly easy to talk to for someone who gave the impression of being so quiet and withdrawn, and coupled with his good looks and honest nature, it made him almost too charming.

Eventually, though, you could feel the phantom fingers of your uncompleted homework clawing at the back of your mind, and bade him a goodnight. This evening too, however, he insisted on an agency car, and moved like he would have literally shouldered the door closed on you when you started towards it before a car arrived. Then you again found yourself bundled into the back of a car, this time with a book stuffed into your hands and a vague sense of disorientation floating after you.

As you shed your jacket and backpack in the doorway of your apartment, you got a text from him as well. Goodnight, Y/N, it read, just as simple and straightforward as you would have expected from him.

You stared down at your phone for a long time, bewildered by the strange turn of events that had shaped your life these past weeks.

Shouto Todoroki had gotten you a book. Shouto Todoroki had an actual personality. Shouto Todoroki wanted to be your friend.

It seemed that after your kidnapping, returning to normal had not been an option.

If the warmth on your cheeks was any indication, you weren't so disappointed to find that out.

[deadpcnned]

the gamble of the heart | chapter 1 (r.l.)

chapter one: certain uncertainty 

series masterlist

pairing: remus lupin x potter!reader

chapter summary: remus reflects on when he lost the person he held closest to his heart. 

warnings: swearing 

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: hi! this is a new remus series i’m working on. WARNING it’s going to be slowburn. hope you enjoy <33

REMUS LUPIN was never one to rely on the idea of certainty. In his sixteen years of life, Remus had gathered that the way the world worked didn’t allow for anything to be certain. For example, he could have been certain that the only peculiar thing about him would have been that he was a wizard (and really this was only peculiar to unknowing muggles). However, at the age of four, his life went off track and he was suddenly a werewolf and had no understanding of what that meant. It wasn’t always bad, however. Sometimes life was uncertain in a good way. At one time Remus was certain that a life of isolation was a fate he would have to accept, but within his first day at Hogwarts, he was proven wrong. 

And so, Remus decided that it was okay that virtually nothing was certain. He had even begun enjoying the uncertainty of life at times. He enjoyed not knowing what crazy adventure his mates and him would journey through next and he even liked the uncertainty of what subjects he would have to tackle next in his favorite classes. Which is why he couldn’t understand why he was surprised by the events unfolding now. His relationship with Y/N hadn’t even been official, yet he was stuck pondering over her recent actions instead of the notes laid out in front of him. He knew he hadn’t imagined the feelings that had been growing between the two of them and he had the image of intimate touches ingrained in his mind as proof of that. So, why? Why had she stopped looking at Remus like he held the stars in his hands? Why had she trained her sight on that lousy Ravenclaw instead? Why was she holding his hands in the halls, when the two of them had never even been so publicly affectionate? But most importantly, why was he so surprised by the uncertainty of it all?

A part of Remus - the part that resonated with his younger self most - knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew it was unlikely that any girl, especially a girl as captivating as Y/N, would have been interested in him for long. Not only was he singularly boring in his opinion, but he was a monster. The other part of Remus - the part he had spent years working on - couldn’t understand why she was suddenly acting like she forgot he existed. He knew they worked well together. He knew that he understood her in a way no one else had. He knew that he was perfect for her. Or at least he’d say he was. 

“What did that poor piece of parchment ever do to you, Moony?” A voice behind him pulled him out of his thoughts and Remus’ eyes flickered down to the notes in front of him. He had been holding his inked up quill to the paper for so long it had created a hole that was getting bigger from the severity of his hold. Dropping the quill, Remus looked up to see Peter stood in the doorway. 

“Uh, must’ve zoned out,” Remus muttered, sending Peter a lackadaisical smile. “What are you lot up to?” 

“Headed to Hogsmeade. You sure you don’t wanna join, mate? I’m sure you’re not gonna do much good just tearing through your notes. Literally.” Remus ignored Peter’s poor attempt at a pun and considered his options. He really wasn’t doing much good sitting at his desk and he needed to get his mind off certain things. No better way to do that than with the three most troublesome boys. 

“Alright, yah,” Remus nodded his head at Peter who was frowning. “You’re right, Pete. No point in tearing through my notes.” Content with Remus’ validation, Peter led the two out of their dorm and down to the common room.

“YES! Prongs, we’ve got Moony on board!” 

—

Being at Hogsmeade during the start of the year always felt odd. Remus would argue that it was one of those things that only made sense during the holidays. He had gotten into many heated debates with James about whether Hogsmeade could be considered fun this early in the school year. James would start by explaining September was the holidays and Remus would remind him that Christmas wasn’t for another few months. But he didn’t feel like striking that kind of conversation today. Normally, he’d have Y/N to back him up. 

Remus entered The Three Broomsticks with his spirits a lot higher than they had been a half-hour ago. As much as he renounced being too sure about anything, he was certain he could never be bored when he was with his friends. He prayed nothing would put a damper on his mood, but the world didn’t work the way he wanted. He had heard her before he saw her. The familiar laugh had him looking over his shoulder and following Y/N’s figure from the door.

The Y/H/C haired girl was walking hand in hand with Mason Tomlinson as they looked for a seat in the corner of the establishment. As though she felt eyes on her, she turned to the table the boys sat at and waved kindly. Remus wanted to roll his eyes at her gesture but thought better of it. 

“I don’t understand when that even happened,” Sirius mumbled, his eyes still trained on Y/N.

“Apparently they were paired up for a project,” James shook his head slightly before turning to look back at his friends. “You’d think she’d tell her bloody cousin she was seeing someone, wouldn’t you?” Y/N hadn’t been seen by the group of boys as often as they usually did in the past few weeks and Remus could tell it was rubbing James the wrong way. Actually, all of them seemed annoyed by her absence. 

“Two weeks… I swear that’s how long the two have known each other,” Peter commented. “Remus, did she ever say anything about him - OUCH!”

All three boys were now staring at Remus with guilty expressions on their faces (except Peter, who seemed to also be holding his leg in pain). Remus simply shook his head and gave him a shrug in response. 

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Sirius started and this time Remus didn’t stop his eyes from rolling. “I really did think the two of you were going to get together.” Remus froze, halting the way he was nervously pulling at his napkin under the table. He had expected pitying looks or impetus questions, but he hadn’t expected that. Remus hadn’t expected to be confronted with the exact thought that had been haunting him. When would he learn he really couldn’t expect shit? 

“No idea what you mean, mate,” Remus spoke, trying to appear much more nonchalant than he felt. “Haven’t even spoken to her in weeks. Why would we be together?” The three pairs of eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, before Sirius began to nod. 

“Right… Well, boys, I think it's time for some more butterbeer.” Remus’ friends continued with their night, but all Remus could do was stare at the manifestation of his nightmares. Y/N had her elbow resting on the table in front of her and was running her hand up and down the length of Mason’s arm. From what Remus could see Mason's other arm was placed against her hip and he was leaning closer. Within moments Remus’ stomach was lurching forward as he watched Y/N’s lips meet with Mason’s to kiss him passionately. If it had been any other person he would’ve been gagging at the crude disregard of their surroundings, but at the current moment, it was as though he was stuck. He couldn’t look away and he couldn’t vomit the sight away. He was stuck watching Y/N crush his heart into pieces without even lifting a finger. 

“Don’t stare, Remus,” James’ words could’ve been taken as a joke, but Remus knew why he was saying them. He didn’t want Remus hurting. 

“Merlin, I don’t understand what has gotten into her,” Sirius, seemingly not learning from his prior mistake, was looking at Y/N again. “That’s not like her, she doesn’t mouth fuck people in public.”

“Sirius!” James and Remus had yelled at the same time. 

“That’s so vulgar!”

“That’s my cousin!” 

“Oh please, Moony. Like you don’t have the mouth of a sailor. James, I do apologize for talking about your very innocent cousin that way, but there is no other way to explain whatever that is.” James smacked Sirius on the back of his head and the two began to argue amongst themselves, but Remus was too distracted to care about what they were saying.

Sirius was right. It wasn’t like Y/N to get into a relationship so fast and even more unlike her to be so publicly affectionate. But then again, he wondered how much of that was dependent on who was sitting beside her. Maybe she was only affectionate when it wasn’t him crowding the seat next to her. Did they even know Y/N? Did he know her? Remus thought back to the first time he had ever felt a sense of mutual understanding between the two. 

The Gryffindor common room was quieter than usual as a group of five 3rd years faced the welcoming fireplace. Remus, James, Sirius, Peter, and Y/N had opted to stay at Hogwarts instead of going to Hogsmeade that weekend and were glad they had. Other than his friend group, Remus noted that the common room was empty which meant they could do anything without prying eyes. They seized the opportunity by playing Wizard Chess and munching on some leftover candy Y/N had from a previous Hogsmeade trip. 

“Bloody hell,” Sirius whined, as he pushed the table in front of him. “How? Again?” Remus just shrugged as he motioned for Peter to take Sirius’ spot across from him. They had all agreed they would have a tournament of sorts and whoever won would get to be the one who executed their next prank. This prank was especially exciting because it was going to be affecting anyone who was innocently spending time in the Slytherin common room next Thursday. 

“No way,” Peter tutted, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m not playing just to lose.”

“Peter, the rules were the winner plays the next contestant,” Remus argued. He knew he was undoubtedly the best at Wizarding Chess amongst the five of them and he took pride in any moments he could use that to his advantage. 

“Moons, just let me play Peter,” Sirius started. At Remus’ look of dissent, he continued, “Come on, do you even care about actually being the one that says the incantation?” Remus considered this. He didn’t actually care, but he did want to win. 

“No,” The voice came from the body next to him and Remus looked up to see Y/N shaking her head. “You can’t make the rules and then change them just because Remus is better than you.” 

“Shut up, you Hufflepuff,” James taunted. The Marauders had often told Y/N she would’ve been suitable for Hufflepuff because of how highly she valued fairness. Even if it was something as small as a game, she wanted to see the right thing done. Remus admired that. He figured if more people did that, the world would be a hell of a better place. 

“Eh, let ‘em play. They won’t let me hear the end of it once I win,” Remus uprooted from his spot on the floor and took a seat next to Y/N. The pair sat back as they watched their friends banter and laugh amongst themselves. Remus had only known the lot of them for three years, but he knew that moments like these would be life-altering for him. He had come a long way from the glum eleven-year-old who thought he deserved to be alone. He still battled with whether he deserved the love he received, but he was slowly learning he did. And the only reason he was ever able to get this far in that journey was because of the four smiling idiots around him. 

When James began to chase Peter around the common room, Remus turned his face to the side just as Y/N did and the two of them just smiled at each other. It was like they were both thinking the same things, but Remus had no way of knowing. Y/N and he had always been friends, but they rarely spent time alone the way he did with Sirius and the way she did with James. It wasn’t weird, it was just the dynamic of their group. But at that moment, as they laughed with each other, he felt like he had known her for years. He felt like she was agreeing with him on how much these people meant to both of them. He was probably projecting, but it made him feel warm with comfort. At the time he didn’t know that she would soon grow to be one of the closest friends he’d ever have, but he found solace in that random second of certain uncertainty.  

tiny little taglist: @kitkatkl​ 

[marnz]

what was the starting point/inspiration for stay close to me? also I'm so curious about the Esen pov fix-it, what was the general plot?

Ahhh thank you for these great questions, because stay close to me actually arose out of me unable to figure out how to make the Esen pov fix it (a longing that's killing me) work. I find Esen so hard to write because he is such an asshole lmao, and I also find mirroring SPC's prose super difficult because our prose styles are opposites.

The Esen Fix It was basically me trying to fix the almost kiss. It starts off after the almost kiss and basically is about Esen realizing he's been a huge dick and trying to be better/less offensive so he can be with Ouyang while also trying to figure out how it's physically possible to be with Ouyang...but I was concerned it was very OOC. Esen never apologizes in the book, even when he knows he's very wrong, and the way I had Esen justify his own behavior to himself felt weak. I have almost 7k of this fic but due to my concerns about characterization I abandoned it. It's unfortunate, the dramatic irony was delicious. I would love to figure out how to finish it :( Later I started what would become stay close to me from Esen's pov but ran into the same problems.

For stay close to me's inspiration, 1) I love horses 2) I think what makes Ouyang such a complex character is not just the gender stuff but also his identity as a disabled person, and I wanted to explore his relationship with his body 3) I think the opening scene in stay close to me is the part of the novel where Ouyang would be most compelled to turn back or deviate from the path he must walk, and the perfect opportunity for Esen to realize Ouyang is actually not happy. 4) when I was rereading I was struck by Esen's dialogue...almost every time he talks to Ouyang he's hinting at having feelings for Ouyang, it's insane. I can't decide if Ouyang subconsciously knows this and is not acknowledging it because of his duty to his family or if he seriously missed Esen's blatant flirting attempts. Like the first time we meet Esen he's literally staring at Ouyang and playing with his hair. Give me a break! The text supports both theories, unfortunately.

But not all is lost, as I am cribbing my fav elements from this fix it and adding them to my ouyang pov fix it, which has turned into a monster :(

I've added a snippet of the Esen pov fix it below the read more for funsies.

That night it rained. The cold crept in through the window paper and Esen, thinking of Ouyang, ordered a fire lit, and then had to strip off some of his layers. The fire hissed and recoiled when Ouyang entered his quarters, as it always did. Ouyang had never commented on it so Esen never had either, but now Ouyang looked at the fire and then at Esen.

“I was cold,” Esen said. He was sweating.

Ouyang, who wore his usual surfeit of layers, said nothing. A servant brought airag; Esen dismissed him and all other servants, as was custom for any military briefings. Ouyang settled in and gave his report on the replacement cavalry, their integration, and how the army was utilizing the extra funds. Esen, playing absently with his jade hair beads, let Ouyang’s low, raspy voice wash over him. It all felt normal, absurdly normal. Yet everything had changed.

“My thanks, General. I’m not surprised training the replacement forces is going well despite Altan’s absence. I knew you would not fail me.”

Ouyang gave a thin smile. “Shao has chosen Zhao Man for Altan’s replacement.”

“Not Jurgaghan?” Esen asked, wrinkling his nose. His third wife would be displeased.

“As his father is not the father of the Empress, no. Shao likes Zhao Man.”

“I don’t care about Shao,” Esen said impatiently. Truthfully he didn’t like Shao, who always seemed contemptuous no matter who he spoke to. But he trusted Ouyang to have good reason for promoting Shao to Senior Commander. “Do you not like Jurgaghan?”

Ouyang’s look was sardonic. “I do not know him well.”

Yes; Ouyang had always avoided Esen’s wives for some reason. “He is a strong fighter. His archery is good; he rides well.”

“Would he be related to you if he did not?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“There is nowhere else I want to be,” Ouyang said quietly.

A tender ache spread through Esen’s chest. It felt like it was pressing up against his lungs and heart, overwhelming them. He felt, as he often did, a longing to keep Ouyang close, but now he wanted Ouyang physically close. It wasn’t enough for Ouyang to sit next to him. He wanted Ouyang in his arms. He wanted them skin to skin. Whenever he had felt such an unmannish sentiment before he had buried it or, if it were particularly strong, imagined what Chaghan would say if such a thing got back to him. But now his longing for Ouyang was so powerful that it was as unending as the steppes.

Ouyang was watching Esen’s face closely. He was very still, his hand clenched around his cup of airag. It was exactly like the night when Esen had horribly insulted him, except this time Ouyang had sought him out. Esen felt the pull of fate again, a pull that seemed determined to bring them into contact. What sort of contact, he could not say. For a moment, him being impaled by Ouyang’s sword or undone by the slow press of Ouyang’s mouth seemed to be equally possible. But Esen knew Ouyang would never hurt him.

“Ouyang,” Esen murmured. Again came the thought that Ouyang was beautiful, but it was a proud and remote beauty, a beauty that was forbidding. And so Esen dared not reach for him.

A shadow passed across Ouyang’s face. He bowed his head and let go of the cup. “My Prince?”

“Do not call me that. Please.”

Ouyang’s throat bobbed. “Why not?”

“I have asked you a thousand times not to.”

“And I have told you a thousand times that I must. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed,” said Esen.

Ouyang did look up at that. He held himself with the high, wavering tension that preceded a lightning strike. It was dread. The pain of knowing how badly he had failed Ouyang over and over again made Esen speak slowly.

“I can never apologize enough for your family’s death--”

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Then at least let me apologize for being an unrepentant ass. Please.” There seemed no other apology he could make that was not insipid.

Here came that close gaze again. “Apology accepted,” Ouyang said at length.

Esen looked down at the table, at his abandoned cup, and chose his words carefully. “For a long time all I cared about was making my father proud.” Again, that tension. Perhaps Ouyang was right to worry; Esen did run a risk of offending him with his next statement. “I made certain sacrifices to that end. It is the job of a son to do so.”

“Yes,” Ouyang’s voice was almost soundless.

“But my father is dead.”

“Your duty to him remains.”

“Of course it does, but I don’t--” Flustered, Esen forced himself to stop and think. How like a woman he felt, unable to be forthright. “The ways I must make him proud have shifted since I became Prince of Henan. Given that, given that--everything has changed--I am not willing to continue making this sacrifice. It would be unbearable to do so.”

Ouyang hardly seemed to be breathing. When Esen finally gathered the courage to look at him, Ouyang was staring at him with such intensity that Esen felt himself flush.

“Esen,” Ouyang whispered.

The deep pleasure of hearing Ouyang say his name made Esen temporarily shut his eyes. He knew immediately they could never go back. But words seemed particularly treacherous, so instead of speaking he held out a hand to Ouyang.

[toosicktoocare]

🧻❄🤗 for 911 maybe? Or whatever you'd rather do

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m going to combine this with the anon copied and pasted below! 

🤚🏻 with Eddie and Buck, please? (Also, Tumblr wasn't letting me send you asks for a solid month or so despite having the option up when I clicked on your profile and I have no idea why. Also, sorry if this is too early or I wasn't meant to do this)

So, we’ve got Tissues, Cuddles, and Back Rubs for 911 (Buddie!)

Public. Eddie works the word around his mind, spelling it out slowly, deliberately, honing in on the faint echo of Buck’s voice still ringing in his ears. 

“You want to go public?”

Eddie can still perfectly visualize the faint, rosy blush that colored Buck’s cheeks when he asked just behind a ladder truck after a tasking call almost two weeks ago. Seeing Buck was one thing, but others seeing him with Buck? The question caught Eddie off guard, and while he was hesitant, Buck’s eyes had been so bright and eager. Eddie couldn’t help but nod, and they walked hand-in-hand to the changing rooms, both prominently blushing more at the catcalls that rang out across the station. 

It’s been different since then, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t mind it one bit. He smooths his hands down his black button up, his eyes dragging up and down his being through a floor-length mirror. It’s his first date publicly with Buck, and it’s also Valentine’s Day. Buck’s handled the reservations, not uttering a single peep, insisting he take care of all the details, and Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a tiny bit nervous. 

Giddy more so, but there’s an underlining hint of nerves that cradle just beneath his heart. What if he’s not dressed nice enough compared to Buck? What if he hates the restaurant Buck chooses and has trouble keeping his distaste from his face? 

The knock on his front door interrupts his thoughts and kicks his heart into overdrive. He sucks in a measured breath, calming himself with the deep swell of his lungs, and abandons his reflection, deciding that his black button down and gray slacks are going to have to be good enough. 

When he opens the door, he’s greeted with a face full of flowers, all deep red roses that he inhales deeply. He cups his hand over Buck’s, frowning faintly at the cold skin underneath his, and pulls the flowers down until he can see Buck fully. 

“Hey.”

Eddie should be focused on the warm, bashful grin played across Buck’s lips. He should be distracted by how Buck’s maroon button down stretches tightly against his arms, lining his biceps. He should be berating himself for zeroing in on Buck’s navy slacks, and on how much he’d rather be crouching down to undo Buck’s belt. But, he’s not.

Instead, he’s studying the splash of red colored to each of Buck’s cheeks. He’d easily blame it on the cold, considering the chill just from Buck’s hand, but the single bead of sweat slipping down Buck’s temple tells Eddie otherwise. And he’s still working around the single “hey” greeting that came off a tone that’s a few notes deeper than normal and a tad raspy. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, and Buck opens his mouth to speak, but then his nose scrunches up, and Eddie snags the bouquet of flowers just in time for Buck to turn away and sneeze sharply into the crook of his arm.

“I’ll take that as a no?” Eddie tries, eyebrows raising as Buck shakes his head, sniffling. 

“It’s just cold outside.” 

Eddie reaches forward and cups his hand to Buck’s cheek. There’s an unnatural warmth that screams fever, but it’s not high, probably low-grade. Buck drops his guard and leans into Eddie’s touch, and Eddie clears his throat. 

“I think you’re running a fever.” 

“Eddie,” Buck tries, and Eddie knows this tone far too well. It’s one Buck reserves in situations where he’s persistently adamant. 

“I... I may have a small cold,” Buck admits, shoulders slumping. “But it’s Valentine’s Day!” He whines that last part, the words falling away to a few more sneezes that leave Eddie wincing. 

“Okay, get in here,” Eddie urges, latching onto Buck’s arm and guiding him into the house, shutting the door behind them. He slides a hand to the small of Buck’s back, ushering him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Buck flops against the couch, the dramatics never ceasing, even with a fever. 

Eddie slips away to the bathroom in search of a thermometer, tissues, and aspirin, eyes rolling as Buck’s voice somehow carries across his entire house despite being weighed down by congestion. 

“I ruin everything.” 

“No,” Eddie calls back, rifling through his medicine cabinet. “You don’t.” 

“I do, though. I think I’m literally cursed. I’ve been looking forward to this day all week, and the second it’s go time, my immune system rebels.”

There’s a pause, a fit of sneezing, and Eddie steps back into the room to a long, loud groan. Buck’s hunched over, sniffling loudly, and he’s digging his palms into his eyes. 

“Headache?” Eddie asks, dropping down onto the couch beside Buck. He traces one hand up and down Buck’s back when Buck falls into another, harsher fit of sneezing that shakes his shoulders, his back tensing. 

“Okay?” 

“Ugh, no,” Buck groans, snagging the tissue Eddie holds out to him. “I mean, yes. But no.” He swipes at his nose, and Eddie smiles softly, hand cupping the back of Buck’s neck. 

“You’re definitely giving me a lot to work with here.” Eddie reaches for the thermometer, stopping only when Buck clasps a weak hand to his arm. 

“Don’t bother. I checked it before I left. 100.2. I already took medicine.” 

Eddie swallows back the burning urge to scold Buck for not just informing him that he’s ill and staying home. He wants to lecture, but Buck looks the mere definition of pitiful: his blue eyes dull and mutely glassy, his cheeks an unhealthy blush, and he’s shaking and sniffling, a tissue pressed to his nose. 

The breath Eddie lets out instead is low and calculated, and he can feel Buck’s eyes on him as he leaves the couch and crouches down to undo the laces of Buck’s shoes. He helps Buck slip his feet out of his shoes. 

“You’re mad.” 

“I’m not,” Eddie says lightly. “I’m just worried.” 

“No,” Buck argues, “You’re mad, and you should be because I ruin everything.” 

Frowning, Eddie kicks his own shoes off, and he slides back down onto the couch, shifting until his back is pressed against the arm. “Come here,” he says, arms opening, and Buck reluctantly crawls toward him, flopping down against him, his chest flush to Eddie’s. 

Eddie wraps both arms around Buck, frowning at the faint shivering that vibrates against him, and he brings his hands back to Buck’s back, rubbing small, warm circles. 

“You don’t ruin everything,” Eddie repeats, tilting his head when Buck nuzzles his too-warm nose to Eddie’s neck. What Eddie wants to say is that Buck can somehow make even the worst situations okay, that Buck’s smile can brighten a dark room, that Buck’s determination and eagerness are far too endearing, that he’s falling for Buck so fast it’s scary. “You do the opposite actually,” he opts for, and Buck huffs out a weak laugh, his breath hot against Eddie’s neck. 

“You’re truly a man of many words, Edmundo.” 

The sarcasm is heavy in Buck’s tone, and Eddie rolls his eyes. “And you’re really about to get your ass kicked off my couch, Evan.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Buck drags out, lifting his head and batting lashes that should not be allowed at Eddie’s face. “You can’t. I’m too sick.” 

“Stop talking,” Eddie grumbles, cupping the back of Buck’s neck and pushing Buck’s head back down until his cheek is resting atop Eddie’s shoulder. “If you’re so sick, there should be less talking and more resting.” 

Buck shivers against Eddie again, and Eddie reaches over the back of his couch and drags a blanket over the two of them. 

“Eddie,” Buck whispers after a few moments with only his congested, loud breathing filling their space. “I’m-”

“-what? Sorry?” Eddie interrupts flatly, and Buck twists his neck, peering up at Eddie’s face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. People get sick, and I have a feeling you’re only sick because you stayed up to watch over my sick kid when I was still finishing my shift, so I should be the one apologizing.” 

Buck hums, dragging his gaze back down. “I’ll watch over Christopher whenever. I love that little guy.” 

“I love you.” Eddie meant to say ‘and he loves you,’ and yet... His lips snap shut, and he goes rigid, the weight of his words slamming against his heart. He’s sure Buck’s going to leave any second now, but Buck only nuzzles impossibly closer to him, humming absently, content.

“Love you, too.”

[sillybub]

If cats ever comes back to tour United States again they should give some Asian actors the right to perform on the play. I would really want them to seize their of triumph. How would that work?

Hello Anon! Thank you for such a great question!

First of all, I HARD agree on wanting a diverse cast! CATS is such a great show for having actors of all different kinds of backgrounds--the diversity of the cast should reflect the diversity of characters within the show. I would LOVE to see Asian actors being cast, along with other actors of color!

Second of all, I sense that you might be talking about the racism towards Asians within the show, and how that can be handled. I am more than happy to address this VERY in-depth.  I’m not sure if this is what you meant for me to do, you have provided me with a good chance for me to talk about my thoughts in-depth.  

So, the first instance of racism we have is in Pekes & Pollicles with the infamous "heathen Chinese" lines.

I've about this before: one fix could be to replace the word "heathen" with any other two-syllable adjective. My favorite fix here is probably "foreign Chinese", but I think the actor would have to be VERY careful with what tone they sing this line in.

My personal fix for this would be to replace that line entirely with something more like "toy Pekingese". Same number of syllables, but we're talking about the dog breed now, and not an entire nationality. Pekingese dogs are classified as "toy" breeds (breeds that weigh 15 pounds or less when they are fully grown), and calling them "toys" would also hint that they're very pampered lapdogs who aren't actually that ferocious at all.

The Pollicle dogs are specified within the song to be Yorkshires, so I don't see why we can't call the Pekes Pekingese on top of that.

Now, more pressing is the Growltiger Issue, which is a little more complicated.

So, first and foremost, I'm strongly in the camp that Growltiger's Last Stand should be eliminated from the show forever.

My reasons for this are as follows:

1. Racism is baked deeply into the character of Growltiger. His song is all bout how he likes to terrorize Asians, original poem calls them slurs, and the entire thing just reeks of Orientalism on top of that. This should be reason enough to take it right out of the show forever.

2. This is much more of my personal opinion, and probably unpopular, but structure-wise, I think that the entire sequence is too long and interruptive. Growltiger's Last Stand in its entirely has a runtime of approx. 10-14 min. The only other song in the show of comparable length is the Jellicle Ball, which is a showcase of all the characters rather than just a very small handful. 10-14 minutes feels too long to focus on a single cat, who isn't even a real character within the show to begin with. The musical is interrupted to put on a different, smaller musical that feels vastly out of place from the rest of it.

Typically, an entirely new set is pulled on stage for the Growltiger sequence, with new pirate outfits for the characters. This is in contrast to the other show within the show, Pekes & Pollicles, where all of the props and costumes are repurposed junk. One of these feels much more authentic than the other. I have always LOVED the decision to give Pekes & Pollicles to Gus; the feeling of improvisation and unprofessionalism, and the absolute chaos of the cats feels much more natural and justified when it was literally an unplanned decision to help Gus relive his glory days as an actor. And since all the cats are involved in Pekes & Pollicles, it feels more intimate as well.

I'm going to expand more on my first point, now.

The Siamese cats are racist caricatures, and non-Asian actors wearing them should be considered yellowface.

Sure, they're supposed to be cats and not humans, but they are so obviously racialized. The masks feature exaggerated slanted eyes, and are very often yellow--hallmarks of a racist Asian caricature.  In early productions, they even sang in a vaguely Asian accent.  For predominantly non-Asian actors to don this costume, it’s yellowface.  

Now, I recognize that the 2020 Asia tour has updated the costumes to be less blatantly racist.  For reference, here is a typical Siamese costume:

(Hamburg 1997)

And here is the revised version:

(Asia Tour 2020).

As you can see, the color pallet has changed from yellow to blue, and there is much less Thai influence in the designs.  In changing the design, the Asia 2020 production has attempted a well-intentioned effort to de-racialize the Siamese cats.  However, these are still racist Asian characters being played by a non-Asian cast.  They context of the song is still the same, even though the costume itself is different.  

So, is it yellowface if an Asian cast plays the Siamese?

No, but it would be incredibly poor taste to cast Asian actors so they can play the Siamese.  

The act of an oppressed group adopting language and symbols that are normally used against them is called “reclaiming.”  For an all-Asian cast (especially with predominantly Thai actors) to put on their own production of Growltiger’s last stand could be an act of reclamation.  I’m not Thai, and only have East Asian heritage on my mom’s side, so it’s not for me to discuss how Growltiger and the Siamese could be reclaimed.

Now, I’m not afraid to call out people’s racism (whether it was intentional or not), so I’m going to talk about a small controversy with the cosplayer Pixiedustjellicle.  She had expressed interest in creating a Siamese mask to sell.  She viewed the Siamese as the heroes of the story, and wanted to create the mask as a homage.  That was a nice sentiment, but as I have discussed already, the costumes and entire concept of the Siamese are undeniably racist.  What Pixie was trying to do is an act of reclamation, but since she is a non-Asian (and specifically white) creator, it isn’t her place to do that.  (After receiving feedback about this from multiple people including myself, she has since apologized.)

Non-Asians should never try to put on Growltiger, and especially not white people.  The Siamese were created and brought to the stage by white men, and there is no way to divorce the racism from their characters. Staging it is something for Asian (ideally with a strong Thai presence leading) cast and crew to do if they so choose.

Additionally, several different Asian cultures are referenced in Growltiger. although there doesn't seem to be much intentional distinction between them, which is why I label it as Orientalism earlier. The Siamese are referred to as Mongolian, for one thing. Additionally, a Siamese cat mauled Growltiger's ear, but now he indiscriminately hates all Asians.

That being said, the Siamese cats are the specific villains of the song; ie, cats hailing from Siam (modern day Thailand) in Southest Asia, which is a very different region that East Asia.  It is for this reason that I place heavy emphasis on leaving it up to Thai people to reclaim the Siamese.

A few people have suggested a major re-write where the Siamese are replaced with the British Navy.  I think that if you truly want to keep the racist song, that’s one option to fix it.  Additionally, you could cut Growltiger and keep In Una Tepida Notte and The Ballad of Billy McCaw, who are fairly divorced from the context of the rest of Growltiger and have no traces of its racism within them.

I’m in the camp that it should just be cut forever, to be perfectly honest.  Even if it wasn’t racist, I don’t care for it.

[potteresque-ire]

Hi! I have been reading your posts and responses to anonymous and I am inclined to comment on your broadly realistic views and detailed analystic answers and let us not forget your ability to be warm in putting forward your opinions. I am truly a huge fan. Thank you for being a station for various answer seekers.

If you have time and patience, please elaborate on the situation GG is still facing post 227. Recently I read various comments insinuating GG copied DD for Douyin night which is absurd but the implication that only one party is still being targeted unnecessarily raise hackles of a lot of solo fans. And I, under any circumstances, DO NOT believe the involvement of the other party. Firm believer of BJYXSZD.

My point is what is being done to stop these antis from targeting GG. Since one of the motive to target GG is to severe the relationship of GG and DD, IMO at least. Does constant attack (external stimulus) on GG (belittling him by comparing him to DD) may have the possibility to effect their relationship (internal reaction)? Objectively yes, but given your perception of their relationship, what is your opinion in this matter, however subjective it may be?

Moreover, how much extreme and sometimes irrational analysis done by bjyx community can lead to harm to both of them especially GG?

Also, I have seen DD being the captain of BJYX in various circumstances but also throwing off people from their old predicted/maintened theories especially in case of Kadians. I am not sure how much to trust these 'candies' since he has a reputation of not giving a f*** of others opinion. So why would he post GG related or non-related content with same kadians. I mean if he posts private content with GG related kadian then why post promotional content with GG related kadian. Does it imply that kadians are related to GG or not or he doesn't care and we are thinking too much. I am not sure what I am writing now, maybe multitude of thoughts poring out here. I am extremely sorry for that.

I do not know whether people believe or not but 1st post by GG yesterday had initials YB in the circle. Not at all explicit, and depends on believers but I felt like he was just trolling BJYX, it may be good naturedly but after his promotional brand picture of shrimp in bunny's hand. I do not know I just felt, dissappointed/bitter/unsure about all of this. I think it is normal to feel this way from time to time even for SZD because along with emotional investment we have rational perspective which is necessary to scrutinize evidence(maybe) from time to time.

I whole heartedly apologize for writing an essay length ask, this is the reason I wanted your patience 😅.

If any other blogger wants to add or comment on this please feel free to do so. Your suggestions are highly welcomed. 🙏

Hello Anon!

I take it that your questions about safety are concerned about the behaviour of c-solos and c-turtles? International fans aren’t likely to put Gg and Dd at any risk. That said, however, frequent fighting among i-fans would likely drain Gg and Dd’s international fanbase, as many fans do not enjoy being a combative atmosphere (I, for one, will run away as quickly as a turtle can run!). Lost i-fans can’t be easily replenished, whether they’re turtles or solos ~ The Untamed, as a foreign language show so beloved that fans are willing to scale tall language and cultural barriers to understand it, isn’t something that comes around often. (stanning Gg and/or Dd does take a lot of work!)

About the arguments. I probably only know about a fraction of them since I do not interact directly with fans outside Tumblr . As far as I can tell, however, recent arguments among c-solos and c-turtles have been ordinary fights, and also, fairly “bi-directional” between the solos (ie. I don’t think Gg or Dd has been relatively exempt from attacks compared to each other). 

These arguments can be heated and some of the attacks may sound vicious, but there’s nothing much to worry about from a safety angle, as they haven’t caught the attention of those outside the fan circles.

The theorising by turtles are also not inherently dangerous. c-turtles have mostly been careful about keeping their discussions among themselves. The only risk it may lead to in the future, that I can think of right now, is the associated YiZhan content on China-based websites (ex. Bilibili, Douyin), which has become fairly plentiful. YiZhan candies used to be relatively obscure given the guidelines of CP fans to keep them among themselves (they call this practice 圈地自萌, literally, drawing a circle on the ground and have fun in it by oneself). These days, however, anyone who’s curious can get a good sense of YiZhan’s story by browsing Bilibili. 

This probably contributes to the continued growth of the turtle population; however, some of this content is created by non-turtles who seek viewership and have little concern over Gg and Dd’s safety. They are the ones who re-upload the BTS, for example, despite the repeated pleas and warnings by the “站姐”s—the superfans who take/purchase these videos—as well as the turtles to not do that. If these content creators go overboard, there’s a possibility that YiZhan content may get caught in the government’s “Eradicating Pornography and Illegal Publications”（掃黃打非) movement. The movement originated in the mid 2000s, and its recent waves have been used as pretext to remove LGBT+ and BL content on line (I will eventually set up a post re: those events). Just last month (2020 Dec), Bilibili has been explicitly named by the government for hosting questionable materials, which means it’s already under scrutiny. Sweeps performed on an entire website are usually broad-based enough that no specific individuals are targeted; however, the government also encourages, with financial incentives, the reporting of specific content and has set up a dedicated website for doing so. While all YiZhan content has no direct relation to Gg and Dd, removal of such content may cause an over-reaction from fans, which can, in turn, lead to accusations of poor fan management by Gg and Dd. Most people will also assume the YiZhan content to be created by turtles.

(Another example of how an alleged turtle mis-step can get the YiZhan fandoms and Gg and Dd tied to the 掃黃打非 movement: a few days ago, a Weibo post showed a photo of a hardcover version of an explicit BJYX fanfic, reportedly sold for profit, and GG haters were calling for an arrest for “illegal publication.” So far, there’s minimal noise on the issue, so it isn’t something to worry about. It can also be fake news, which is so bountiful on the platform and on every aspect of daily life that most die a very peaceful, very well-deserved death.).

Whether fan arguments / theories may affect Gg and Dd’s relationship (assuming they’re in a relationship) … my guess is, not much. Gg and Dd are busy people, unlikely to closely follow their fans’ discussions. Again, I expect effects to be felt only if the arguments get out of hand ~ as in, if they begin to involve the public and/or the government.

As for the question about what is being done to stop Gg being targeted: fan wars are incredibly common in China (as in everywhere else), and Gg and Dd’s aren’t special in that sense ~ it’s just that as turtles, we know about those surrounding Gg and Dd and they feel significant to us. No individuals can stop a fan war ~ all we can do is to not join these wars ourselves.

Personally, I think the international fan base of Gg and Dd, as solos and cpfs, have more chance to achieve peace than its Chinese counterparts — if they choose to want that. Popularity in China is not only quantified (which is likely true everywhere, by marketing departments), but very visibly so. Sales numbers, votes, traffic attributed to each idol are frequently released to the public, possibly to foster competition among fans and drive these numbers further upward. c-turtles’ demonstrated strong performance in pushing these metrics has made them a target to those who wish to have usurp their consumer power. They, therefore, have good reasons to be wary of anyone who try to sway them from their “turtle-ship”, whether to turn them into solos or to lure them into an entirely different fandom. The swaying messages are also not always obvious, not always a direct “your cp suck”.  They can be subtle, many even come from netizens who appear to be fellow turtles, who may say “oh, maybe we (turtles) are wrong” or “we have to be realistic; Gg and Dd will never look at each other publicly again”—messages that cast doubt and sink morale in a fandom that’s already running an uphill battle. Remember: traditionally, CP fandoms are not expected or welcomed to last, and solos have been happy to (correctly) point out that the BTS, the origin of the most solid “evidences” of BJYXSZD, are getting older by the day. c-turtles can’t expect anyone else to help defend their ship if something happens, given CP fandoms’ lack of respectability, given YiZhan being a real person M/M pairing that is often frowned upon. So it’s understandable, to me at least, why c-turtles are on guard, and occasionally, clash with those who they feel may be trying to take away what they love.

i-turtles, I feel, don’t have that many reasons to fight. We don’t really have other fandoms (for example, the up and coming danmeis—the adapted BL dramas) vying for our attention (and wallets). No one can put an expiration date on the YiZhan communities except ourselves.

Another way to see this is: we—as in, the combined Gg + Dd international fanbase, the solos + CPFs—are lucky in a way the fans in Gg and Dd’s home country are not. Collectively, we’re much further removed from the pressure to perform as fans, which is immense in China with their fan circle culture and fan economy. i-shrimps and i-motorcycles ~ some of you are reading this, I think? (hello!) ~ here are my humble thoughts: the solo/turtle ratio of Gg and Dd’s international fans doesn’t make much of an impact on Gg and Dd’s star status, on the popularity metrics that matter. Our spending power is limited outside China’s borders, and while Gg and Dd likely love us equally as fans, our adoration for them doesn’t really matter much, if at all, to the production/media/commercial companies that control the trajectories of their careers. 

Along this line, the turtles’ “double loyalty” doesn’t have much of an ill effect, because there are few popularity contests here that mean much; few times (if any) when the turtles must face the dilemma of whether to vote for Gg or Dd because only a single vote is allowed; few situations where they have only x amount of dollars and must split it equally between Gg or Dd’s endorsements. There’s also much less cause to worry that i-turtles may draw the attention, or ire of the Chinese government ~ the whole international fanbase is too far away, too spread out to destabilise the regime in any way.

What the turtles do have in common with you, the solos, is their knowledge, their love for Gg/Dd. Knowledge, in particular. The people who know about Gg/Dd are still far and in between—at where I am, at least, and my guess is, it’s likely true for many of you too. Think of the turtles as people who you can talk to about your favourite star in places where few people know about him, can help promote The Untamed  far and wide—many people still haven’t heard of the show, and they deserve to.

For the turtles ~ no one can take away our turtle-ship identity, as long as we don’t give it away. No one can report on the our communities to the government and get them dissolved. Our votes, our spending habits are no one else’s business but ours here.

So, Anon, here’s what I think, and these are all very personal opinions, very personal decisions on how to navigate fandom …

I truly hope that we, as the international fanbase, can try to use this luck that we have. Make our communities not mere copies of their (combative) Chinese counterparts but something different, something with our own flavour, something with more peace and less fighting.

Specifically, I see little cause to try to persuade/dissuade anyone to be a solo/turtle. I find them… not the best use of time. Why? Because frankly, neither solos nor turtles have a better grasp of who Gg and Dd are. Neither solos nor turtles have a truly good grasp of who Gg and Dd are. These discussions are therefore bound to end up with more ill will than conclusions, since both sides are short of facts.

We’re all short of facts as audiences, who’ve all only seen a tiny sliver of who Gg and Dd are as human beings.

I don’t mean Gg and Dd’s star image is fake ~ it’s just that, their star image is their “work face”, and even I, a lowly turtle, must act somewhat differently in my own office. It’s part of being professional.

Gg and Dd’s star image are their professional face, and no professionals worth a salt truly ignore other’s opinions, especially when the profession is being an entertainer whose job is to face and hold the attention of the public. 

This is true for Gg; this is true for Dd.

Social media accounts are also part of Gg and Dd’s professional face ~ whatever is posted on there will be scrutinised by millions of fans, and they know that. The posts do provide some insights about Gg an Dd’s personalities, but they can’t be expected to show a complete picture. No parts of these posts, therefore, whether it’s the content or the kadians, are sufficient evidences for / against any aspect of their personal lives (especially as private an aspect as their romantic lives). Anon, you mentioned promotional marketing materials, and here’s my understanding of them ~ ambassadors such as Gg and Dd have minimal control over their design. The shrimp-holding bunny you’re referring to, for example, is very likely provided by the company.

However, may I also add this? Please try to not think of the shrimps / motorcycles as enemies of the turtles. Millions of people are behind each of these labels, and true for any group of this size, a fraction of its members are bound to be annoying. A small fraction may be awful, even. But they don’t represent the entire group. The shrimps are not only Gg’s fans, many of them have supported him longer than any turtle (since turtle-ship can’t be older than 2018); they’re also the reasons why Gg is in the industry ~ they voted for him in X-Fire. Likewise, a subset of motorcycles have been with Dd since UNIQ; they were there when the Korean ban effectively dissolved his group; they stuck with him when he was attacked for taking on the role of LWJ.

We’re all Gg and Dd’s fans, if you ask people outside the fandom. Remember: few outside China understand why heated arguments can occur between a bunch of shrimps, turtles and motorbikes. (It sounds a bit kafkaesque, just typing it out.)

It’s important not to lose sight too, that Gg and Dd’s social media accounts, where many new candies are found, primarily function as bridges of communication between them and their fans. These accounts do have different degrees of “professionalism” ~ Weibo and the official accounts being more formal, and Oasis, Douyin being more laid back and intimate; still, they all serve similar purposes. They’re not candy generators, or a script Gg and Dd have an obligation to follow to confirm / refute BJYXSZD.

Also: these accounts are accessible and watched by the public, not all of whom are friendly to Gg and Dd.

Re: Gg’s drawing on Oasis. He used the account as it’s intended for—to interact with his fans (the caption of the first draft was an unspoken invitation to shower him with ideas) and maybe, to show off a little (it was a very nice piece of artwork ~ a comment that I, sadly, haven’t seen much of). I doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted fans to carpet-search for traces of Dd in it (even though he probably expected that would happen); I very much doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted his fans to fight over scratch marks or black dots.  

If these fights keep happening, I can imagine a possible outcome. He’ll stop showing us his drawings. His social media accounts will become less and less personal, as they already have.

I’ll share with you my thoughts about candies too, while I’m at it. These are probably not-so-popular opinions, so please take them all with a grain of salt.(Salted caramels? 😊 )

I haven’t looked at why candies are called candies, but I find the name appropriate for how I think of them ~ candies are 1) neither evidences or truth, 2) sweet, 3) treats (non-essential, not like the main course).

The first point is, perhaps, the one I try the hardest to keep in mind. There are posts out there claiming the candies as made-beliefs—generated from edited pictures or videos, exaggerated translations, and their interpretations forced by “guidances” in the annotations/narration. There are also posts claiming that turtles are deceivers, or have been deceived by brainwashers who maliciously created these make-beliefs. A turtle may assume these posts are all lies, all made by antis. 

But, speaking turtle-to-turtle, I’d venture to say this … there’s some truth in the *first* statement. Many candies do, indeed, taste different if their taster returns to the original source—not necessarily unsweet, but less sweet. Candies, remember, are generated by fans like you and I. Same for c-candies ~ they aren’t endorsed by Gg and Dd, aren’t necessarily closer to the truth just because of the relative proximity of their birthplaces to their leads. 

Candy generation is The Tradition of CP fandoms. It’s a celebrated skill, and who doesn’t want to generate a candy that will be talked about, that will be part of the BJYX canon, for as long as the fandom lasts? Some fans are, therefore, also more … efficient in the “marketing” of the candies they generated — in persuading others that their candies are evidences, the truth. “Guidance” photos and videos (which pinpoint the place to watch, sometimes with appropriate sound effects for emphasis) have come about that way, and because they’re easy to digest—especially where language barriers exist—they end up spreading to i-fandoms.

These photos and videos may look more professional / trustworthy, but they often have an additional layer of subjectivity ~ on top of the already subjective opinion of what makes a candy. Translations (of BTS, fake rumours house content etc) also introduce a subjective element. Word choices can significant modify the tone of a conversation; speakers of different Chinese dialects may also have different interpretations of the same phrases. Example: I, as a non Chongqing/Sichuanese speaker, can guess the literal meaning of the “puppy” term Gg used for Dd — 狗崽崽 (gou zai zai) — but I also had to rely on others to tell me how endearing the term is; me being a Chinese speaker actually doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid, or authoritative, in this scenario, because my dialect doesn’t use this term at all. 

It doesn’t mean the people who’ve put in the work have any less-than-good intent; the vast majority of them come from a place of deep love. It’s just that we all carry our own perspectives, and as fans, our strong emotions in our fanworks.

This is why candies are often insufficient as good “points” for arguments, why they fail to convince non-believers, sometimes to the disappointment of some turtles. As evidences, they aren’t objective enough; they’re also often touch upon the assumption that’s mark the fundamental difference between solo and cp fans — the assumption that Gg and Dd are (not) together. Take, for example, this segment from a (polite) ask I got from an anon solo:

All the matching clothes, jewelry, shoes etc. Stopped being valid candy when I realized that the brands have popular stars "endorse" their products. The lightning pendant? Other actors have also worn it. Does that mean they are in a 3-way with (Gg) and (Dd)? Probs not.

Solo anon was correct! Brands have star endorsers, and other entertainers have, indeed, worn the same lightning pendant. The implied argument is also valid: people who don’t care about, don’t even know about each other can wear the same things. Most of us do that on a daily basis with our mass-produced garments.

However, a counterargument can also be made to the statement above, and easily: even the most precious, most beautiful wedding rings (say, from Tiffany!) are not exclusive to the first RL couple who bought them. It doesn’t mean the first RL couple is sleeping with all the couples who bought the same rings afterwards, doesn’t mean those rings aren’t significant to every one of these couples as romantic mementos. More often than not, couples wear matching things not because these things are exclusive to them—because how often can one find things that only exist as a single pair in this world? They wear matching things because they want to see something on themselves that remind them of their significant other and so, as long as the things aren’t so prevalent that everyone is wearing them, they can already serve their purpose.

But you see, Anon, that arguing over this would’ve been a waste of time? Because the solo came in with the assumption that Gg and Dd were not a couple, and the counterargument was made with the assumption that they were. The pendants alone are insufficient to prove either side correct or wrong. No one knows why those pendants ended up on Gg and Dd’s necks, except Gg and Dd and their teams. If I were to argue with anon solo, we can go on and on and on until we’re both left with bitter tastes in our mouths and WWX-red in our eyes, and forget the one thing that really matters: we’re both Gg’s fans.

(We could’ve spent the time talking about how that scene in The Wolf with Ji Chong throwing Zai Xing in the water is ❤️.) (I can’t believe the script waited 30+ episodes to do it. 😂)

This leads to my second point, Anon. Candies are meant to be sweet, and they’re meant to be sweet for you. In Chinese, a term for an expert candy person is a 嗑學家 (the candy-eating in CP fandoms is called 嗑糖 (ketang) ～ with 嗑 ke denoting a specific form of eating that requires breaking something open first with teeth—such as watermelon seeds; a 嗑學家 is a 嗑 (ke)-ologist). A 嗑學家 isn’t someone who can recall the longest list of candies, or spread the most candies around, or convince the most people that the CP behind the candies is real; they are those who can find their own candies in a source material, and be overjoyed by the sweetness of their discoveries without outside help. To me, at least, this term encapsulates the subjective nature of candies ~ what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice versa, and that’s perfectly all right. In other words, there are many candies out there but you’re not required to believe in all of them; instead, you’re free to choose candies to your own liking, compose your own version of the BJYX canon that you love, that you find sweet.

Wait, but you may say. Doesn’t that make my canon fantasy? Yes and no, because candies are based on real events. They’re interpretations, which sit somewhere between reality and fantasy. They’re like … opinion shows on news channels.

But what if I need to convince people of my canon —

Your “opposition”’s canon is as fantastical, and as real as yours — maybe it isn’t, but neither of you have a way to prove it one way or another.

Wouldn’t solos call me delulu, or clowns?

Maybe. But one step outside the fandom, and all of us fans—solo and cpfs—are delulu, clowns.

(That’s why while I’ve used the cpn label, I haven’t called myself delulu, or a clown. Anyone who thinks I have the truth about the love story about a pair of idol I haven’t met from thousands of miles away … the joke’s probably on them, don’t you think?)

Of course and again, Anon, this is only my take! I like candies precisely because I like to watch the real-time generation of candies, which ones different people claim as their own, which candies fall away and which stick around in the fandom over time. As a fic writer, this ship has gifted me with a treasure trove of information ~ what do people think of as romantic gestures, as give-away signs of love? The fun/amazing part of BJYX is that candies are available for so many different answers to these questions. Some people think of longing gazes and sweet smiles; some think of touches that can’t be helped (the many, many, many “fights”); some think of service (buying foods, designing clothes); some think of caring about the other’s well-being (throat candies and dumplings + noodles + crackers); some think of being The Other’s One and Only Exception (Dd being so talkative around Gg, Gg being so … fussy around Dd); some think of expressions through the arts (songs, drawings, dances); some think of grand gestures (the wave heart in the ocean); some think of matching clothes and symbolic accessories (rings); some think of birthdays and anniversaries (314, 622, the first snow); some think of sharing life’s hassles and small tidbits (fake rumour house); some think of … just looking VERY good together. Etc etc.

Some think of a subset of these, some think of all of these…

(Personally, I’m a very picky candy eater. I know about many of them, but only a small fraction impresses on me.)

(Still, I love watching candies. I love watching the joy of people sweetened by them ~ or, when c-turtles exclaim kswl! — the short form of ke si wo le! 嗑死我了! I “ke”ed so much I’m dying!)

This gets to 3), Anon, and I apologise to you too, for answering your not-essay-at-all with an essay! Candies are, to me, treats, and I don’t expect them to come at any frequencies higher than treats do. The reason isn’t because I don’t like candies ~ I enjoy watching them, as I said, even if I don’t eat many of them; the reason is because I don’t expect anyone’s romantic love to leave a trace in everything they do. For example, if I truly find myself in a SZD/SJD discussion re: Gg’s drawing, I’d say the lack of Dd in Gg’s self-portrait doesn’t really mean much. Even if Gg and Dd were head-over-heels in love with one another, Gg doesn’t have to put Dd in everything he touches. Likewise, Dd doesn’t have to present a consistent, or decipherable story with his kadians. This is true for the real-life couples around us too, isn’t it? They don’t perform every single act in life leaving a noticeable trace of their significant other. And the misunderstanding that couples do that — that their romantic lives take over who they are as individuals — IMO, partially explains why people who choose to not to date or marry, people who’re aro-aces, often have a difficult time convincing others that they’re complete humans. Romantic love is, of course, very, very important and can be life altering, but it also isn’t everything about a person ~ especially not if a person who has a career as exciting as Gg’s and Dd’s. Gg and Dd who also have friends, family, (many) talents and interests …

(And lots of ugly icons on their cell phones. Yes, I’m talking about you, Gg. That long-armed Pepe from your 2018 snowless Beijing post will give me nightmares…)

[atomicblasphemy]

I was bored and decided to speculate on the upcoming Owl House episodes

Buckle up, this got way longer than anticipated.

Often I tend to have as much or even more fun with TOH’s b plots as with the main ones, and seeing the memes the fandom I guess that’s kind of a normal feeling. But this last episode didn’t really have one and I’m pretty glad it didn’t.

Here’s how I’ve been thinking of the show, specially when it comes to episode structure. Pretty much in the first few scenes they will go like “hey, here’s an idea.” Then they go on the rest of the episode showing why that is not such a good idea. Case in point, Understanding Willow’s “out of sight, out of mind” only for the episode turn out as an argument for therapy, or that grom episode with Luz unable to answer her mom’s messages only to do so by the end of the episode (even though that is not a full solution, but still, she’s the main character and that looks like it will a main source of conflict until the show’s end... probably). On today’s episode I feel like it came out in two ways: from Luz perspective it came in the form of her indulging King’s narrative and self-image; on his case, well, it pretty much boils down to that whole identity crisis thing.

In other words, although in a certain way there are two big stories being told they both are a part of the same plot line. Moreover, King is a part of the show’s main trio.

Now, this may just be my own perception, but I feel like the last five or so episodes were kind of meant to be some turning point for specific characters, in this sequence: King, Willow, Luz, Amity, Eda, Lilith. Those episodes seem, again, at least to me, to mark some form of shift in the characters story. For Lilith it was her betraying the Emperor, for Eda it was learning who cursed her and her imprisonment for Luz’s sake in a way (learning she grew to care for Luz over her own well-being), for Amity it was her taking a first tangible step towards getting out from her parent’s dominion (which culminates in the events of EE) and becoming her own person, for Luz it was confronting the fact her biggest fear is somewhat related to guilty about how she left her world and her mom and finding in herself (and the friends she made in the Isles) the fortitude to actually confront all that, for Willow it was what I said before (which, btw, ends her whole arc that started on the conjuring episode, the whole thing about her and Amity’s friendship). The only one of those I can’t really see clearly what the episode’s point really was is King’s Really Small Problems.

Again, going on a bit of subjectivity here but I feel like that episode was kind of the show’s lowest point so far. First of, there’s the fact that Willow, Gus, and especially Luz don’t apologize to King because, I mean, they were pretty much about as guilty for everything that happened as him. They did either hijack or forget his day with Luz, so you know... Buuut, still, if I were to hazard a guess as to what the point on that episode I’d say it circles around the line “The King of Demons misses nobody.” early in the episode being contrasted by “Demons do crazy things when they’ve been missing someone.” In other words, the point of the episode, to my best guess would be him starting to deal with a shifting sense of identity.

So, this brings us to the current season. If I’m right in my understanding of Really Small Problems, then that’d mean that Echoes of the Past is picking up on that episode’s thread. Likewise, the same can be said about Escaping Expulsion. And in a sense, both King and Amity’s (moreso in Amity’s case, admittedly) arc seem to have in a way concluded with those two episodes. Moreover, going by the episode’s synopsis the next upcoming episodes seem to also doing something similar: either picking up a previous storyline and finishing it, or starting new ones. Separate Tides would be a bit of an exception, since it was the premiere and had to reacquaint the audience with the world and characters, but even then I feel it sets up a potential point of conflict for Luz in the form of her guilt over Eda’s loss of magic.

Then, again, going off a limb here, but I’d guess that, from episodes 2 to 8 the main objects will be, in this order, Amity, King, Lilith (going by the trailer implying we’ll see her beast form), Gus (who thus far didn’t really have a longer story arc beyond The First Day), Luz, Eda (which, given how it introduces a new character from her past I’d imagine it would mark the beginning of a new arc for her). But I feel bored so I want to elaborate a bit further.

Episode 4: Lilith, maybe (this part is pretty esoteric, to be honest), possibly, starts to come to grips with the consequences of sharing the curse while, due to mamma Clawthorne’s visit, seeing their past in a more nuanced fashion. I mean, Mamma Clawthorne is in the beast keeping coven, her presence while her first born daughter literally turns into a best could make for some interesting potential stories. Anyhow, I think some other interesting thing will have to do with Eda. As I said I can’t really see an arc or something along those lines happening with her as of right now. Now, bare with me while I go on a bit of a tangent. So, in Understanding Willow Willow herself is the object of the story, however in that episode we also get to see the cause of them falling apart was Odalia and Alador threatening Amity indirectly. By doing that the upcoming conflict regarding her gets established. Then next, at the Grom episode, we as the audience learn that Amity is at least attracted to Luz. There’s no point on getting too deep into this beyond this: her crush on Luz works as a strong reason, from her perspective, to stand up to her parents. Then at the Grudgby episode we see her taking active steps towards getting more agency in her life from them when she chooses to play against two people her parents sanctioned as suitable companions. Eventually this would culminate in the EE episode as I already talked at length about. The reason I’m bringing all of this up is because I get the feeling Eda’s upcoming story will follow some similar lines, whatever happens here (and will either be developed or solved on episode 7) will be set up at this episode.

Episode 5: As I said, I don’t really see clearly what Gus’ main conflict is, and I would imagine that this episode will either make that more evident or outright introduce it, so I don’t feel I’m in the position to speculate the specifics. However, we do know that the B plot is Lumity and I’ll need to dwell on this one a bit longer. After season one, I had this guess that this ship would become cannon somewhere between episode 3 at the earliest and 7 at the lastest. The reason I thought so, and I still think there’s no solid reason to reject this hypothesis, was that after WiLW the only thing standing in the way from Amity coming clean about her feelings was probably her relationship with her parents. UW set that up, WiLW took a first step in that direction, EE went through with it. Moreover, I thought that’d be in line with what we had shown of the show’s pacing up until that point. So, basically the situation I see here goes along the lines of setting up a new source of conflict for Amity (in the form of Luz eventually leaving the Isles), and for Luz in the form of (if my guess of Lumity becoming cannon in this specific episode is correct) the start of a new relationship, something she never experienced before, which would make her question whether or not she actually wants to go back to the human realm, or at the very least muddy the water a tad. However, I am not so dead certain they’ll become cannon (and, btw, by cannon I mean simply an unequivocal sign that their relationship changed, however the showrunners decide that should look like.) Moreover, that only gets accentuated if the thing she’s helping Luz with is a portal. In other words, my “prediction” that it’d become cannon around this time was mostly due to me feeling that turning them into a will they won’t they at this point would be tantamount to the show chasing its own tail, but that’d feel uncharacteristic of the show, in light of the first season. That being said, if I’m right about there being this upcoming conflict about Luz having to decide between the Isles and the human realm (which may or may not keep on developing until the shows finale, but I digress), then it wouldn’t necessarily be a problem. If handled well her being uncertain as to whether or not to take the leap with Amity could potentially be an interesting way convey her internal conflict. Still, I think that having those two be together would be more effective in give her one more strong argument in favor of staying in the Isles. Besides, there’s my thoughts about the following episode which would make the will they won’t they approach redundant. Also, the fact Amity is the one

Episode 6: Pretty much would pick up on the place it left Luz in the previous episode, again, if and only if my speculations so far are right. Two things the synopsis doesn’t really make clear: why Luz is having problem hunting a palisman; and who the foe in question is. Now, I know we see her carrying Golden Boi’s staff. I’m choosing to ignore this for now because I would actually have Boscha (who we see in one of the teasers), and who would kind of go along with some hints at her redemption like that “you’re a really good friend...” line. Besides, if this palisman thing is a part of Hexside’s curriculum it would make sense that she’d be in the same situation as Luz. Not to mention that Golden Boi helping her gain access to a weapon she can and most likely will turn against him and his boss seems pretty odd. Ultimately, however, the identity of this foe is inconsequential. The main point of interest for me is the reason why she is having trouble finding herself a palisman. We don’t know the specifics of palisman adoption or creation, so I will try not to depend to much on it. But here’s the gist: getting a palisman as a commitment not only to the palisman itself but to the world. Whatever happens between her and Amity and going by the mad logic I’m using, her sense of belonging would probably be completely scrambled even before the episode starts. Being made to make a commitment like that in midst of an existential crisis of sorts as a means to create internal conflict in Luz, that’s what I’m trying to argue is the point of this episode. Also, before I move on to another thing I think is pretty important and I’ve decided to say it now because I don’t want to rework the structure of a rambling session that’s already way longer than I expected: we see Camilla in the trailer, I think this would be the best moment to put her. The reason for that is simple enough. In the A plot we see Luz trying to decide where she belongs to, and working towards becoming more and more part of the Isles figurative landscape; on the b plot however we would get to see in the form of Camilla that she still has a home in the human realm, that there’s still someone who loves her a lot and is doing everything within her power to get her back or at least to ensure she is safe and sound. Not to mention, it would be a great moment to bring up those letters we see at the end of the Grom episode, but I’ll get to that when I get to that.

Now, that important thing I wanted to talk about: the overall message of the show. I think I said this before but my favorite thing about Luz is the effect she has on the other character, essentially she is the catalyst to their growth. She is the one that ensured Willow would confront her past with Amity resulting in her getting rid of the hang ups that were holding her back allowing her to forge her own path. She is the reason why Amity chooses to stand up for herself. She is the reason why Lilith is capable of hope to rekindle her relationship with her sister thus empowering her to break away from the Emperor. She is the reason why Eda now has some reason to, as she put it herself, “stop wasting away her magic”, she gives her something to look forward to. Hell, even if we are just starting to see it, I’m positive we can make an argument that she’s why King became more open to the possibility he is not who he thought he was, making him see himself more as who he is to the people he cares about than a dethroned king of demons.

In a sense Luz seems to find all other characters in something of a stagnation point of their. A sort of fatalistic view of their own identities, be it in a more “ontological” sense, according to my interpretation, as in Lilith and Amity’s case, or as products of Lady Luck’s whims as for Willow and Eda. {Sidenote: For me at least Lumity’s mutual crush always made more sense on Amity’s end than on Luz’s and in a certain way it still does despite EE. Case in point, if I were to pin point the precise moment her feelings towards started shaping up in a way that makes infatuation possible it would that “I’m not a witch, but I’m working hard to become”. If what I’m saying is not absolute non-sense, then this would have been a “Holy shit. You can actually do that? You can actually have enough agency over your own life to that extent do something like that?”. I mean, their following interaction, at the library has her looking like “Ok, maybe I was just a wee bit of a needlessly belligerent dick just now” after she pushes Luz away from her offering to help when reading to kids.}

To put it succinctly: the message of the show is that your identity, who you are as a person, is not the product  of a pre-existent essence but of who you actively choose to be. That even if one is not capable of deciding their circumstances (like Willow, Eda, or Amity), that are the choices one makes as they go about living their lives that determine their identity. And by centering Luz’s core conflict now as where her belonging lies only for it to be solved at the show’s finale by having her, the main character, effectively having to make this choice, to realize she belongs to wherever she decides she belongs to would be a pretty poignant way to get this point across.

So yeah, if my guesses so far are right this may as well be one of the show’s most important episodes.

Anyway, back to my esoteric predictions about the upcoming episodes...

Episode 7: Eda and Rayne. Now, I don’t to sound like a party pooper or something, but we don’t really have a reason to predict those two having a romantic connection. There’s no reason to necessarily refuse this possibility a priori either though. I mean, the further I get into the future episode the less I have to work with in terms of speculation. We don’t really know where her story is heading, and I feel like I already covered it enough when I was talking about ep 4. But there are two things I want to point out. First, like Mama Clawthorne, Rayne is a figure from Eda’s past, so whatever conflict she may have to sort through from now on stems from her past. The specifics are up to anyone’s guess, so yeah, it is perfectly possible that those two were a couple or something along those lines at some point in the past. But other than that picture that shows that they were somewhat close, we really don’t have much to go by. Second thing, and this is not really all that important. If the foe from episode 6 is not Golden Boi, I think this will be the episode on which the two interact (again, that picture of Luz with his staff, we know they will get to interact at some point, and this seems to be the one episode out of all we have a synopsis for that depends the least on Luz for the main story).

Episode 8: Just imagine me blowing raspberries. I got nothing for this one, except that: a - I really hope Axel Rose does not get to be a guest voice acting role, same goes for Slash and that bassist I keep forgetting the name of; b - I hate this expression, but this really strike me as a “filler episode”, or a breather as I’ve seem someone put it. Still, as much as with anything else I could be wrong here.

But before I move on, there are three very important characters I haven’t talked about enough thus far at least in terms of speculation. Gus, Willow, and Bellos. So I’ll address the three of them just now. Bellos: he is the force that will ultimately make Luz confronting the question about where her belonging lies all but unavoidable; essentially - and I know I must sound like a broken record, but if and only if my take is right - his actions are not all that important to the story and its message because he is less of a character and more something akin to a force of nature. Gus: again, not so sure where his story will go or if he even has one in a more strict sense as the other characters. Frankly that’s one of the  aspects of the show I find the hardest to form an opinion on, unlike the others he sort of feels complete, that makes him pretty neat but also means that there’s less stuff you can do to him, less places you can take his character and develop it. That being said, I think he has a function in the show and he fulfills it pretty nicely. Besides, they can always just go and introduce new aspects to him we just can’t foresee as of now (which might as well happen in episode 5 for all we know). Either way, I have nothing but adoration for this precious boy. Now, Willow. As I mentioned, as far as I can tell her character got pretty much done with at Understand Willow. It was really weird for me when I watched that episode because it is until now my absolute favorite of the series (although Echoes fro the Past is putting up a pretty solid fight), the first thing I thought afterwards was “Idk how many seasons the show has left, but it feels a bit too soon for a defining moment like this and I don’t know what else they can do with her.” I mean, you could argue that the Grudgby episode seems to kinda sorta set up a conflict between her and Boscha, but that story seems to concern more Luz and Amity’s characters, especially the ladder. Willow and Boscha act more as a means to make Amity take that first step and for Luz to learn not to start a mosh pit in a Radiohead concert. That being said, I feel like she is now in a similar position to Gus’: either a new unforeseen source of conflict for her or they simply leave her to occupy a fixed role in the story. Personally, I’d much rather they introduce new stories and conflicts for them, not only that would help push for that overall message I was raving on about, but I also just wanna see more of them. I adore all characters in this show, I have fun with them and want to keep doing so until the show ultimately ends.

Almost done, I promise. Just a tad more of your patience, that’s all I’m asking. I will not revise or edit this so hopefully I’m still making a semblance of sense. I mean, if you’re reading this sentence then it probably means I am. Otherwise I can only ask you one thing: why?

Now, Eclipse Lake, or episode 9. As I said when talking about episode 7, we are now in too distant a territory for me to feel any confident as to my basis. Take all of this as more wishful thinking than anything else. So, you know, if you have a tin foil hat at hand now would be a good time to put it on.

Going by this episode’s synopsis as well as episode 5′s it makes it sound that Amity will become steadily a more central point to the whole portal conundrum. She is the one going on about it more than anyone else. There’s a first a fairly obvious reason why she put herself in that position: she has a gargantuan  crush on the girl and wants to spend as much time as physically possible with her. There’s also a secondary reason why she would want to do that, and for that I’d need to bring up those letters Camilla has or had been receiving.

Now, I’m aware I can’t really make an ironclad argument for her being the one writing them. However, it is more than a bit suspicious that those letters would be brought to attention immediately after we see a piece of writing that we know for a fact was written by her and seeing how closely those two handwrittings match. Not every piece of scenary put by an author necessarily be a Tchekov’s gun, but this one reaaally looks to be the case, still circumstantial evidence so tin foil hats or whatever. Moreover, as I on at length before, Amity’s story up to this point was that of someone learning to be her own person and aim for her own goals, in this sense I can see her decision for writing those letters as an early and not stellarly thought out way to do that even if well meaning. Like a poorly articulated if good intentioned act made by someone who doesn’t really understands why she’s doing what she’s doing, what it entails, or what the full length of the consequences could be. I mean, she is a kid after all, and she is bound to have a few hiccups along her way to self-discovery. Again, I’ll get to it when I get to it. Lastly, however, the second reason why she would have a reason to volunteer to help Luz with her portal situation: if she is the one sending those letters then she has access to some form of a portal herself, be it fully functioning like Eda’s or just capable to dispatch smaller objects that’s not really the point. The point is that, if all I’m saying is right she will be put in a very strange situation. If she is possession of a portal and is “helping” Luz find one, then she’d essentially be lying to her much like Luz herself is in a sense lying to Camilla. Moreover, she’d be at this point one of the characters with the largest amount of reasons to delay Luz’s return to the human realm as much as possible, meaning that the question she’ll have to answer would probably go along these lines: do I act in self-interest, lie or maybe even do some sabotage, and make sure I keep the person I’m growing to love next to me, ooooor do I act accordingly to this love and help her achieve her goal which could potentially mean I’ll never see her again?

Also, season one’s finale had an ambiguous title. Young Blood, Old Souls can just as easily be taken as referring to Eda as well as to Lilith, the two focal points of that episode’s conflict. Likewise here, “Yesterday’s Lies” could be taken as either a reference to Luz’s lies to Camilla, or these hypothetical lies Amity may be telling Luz. That means, in this hypothetical mid-season finale I’m conceiving here these two would be the focal points of conflict (maybe alongside Camilla).

In any case, a possible counter to everything I’m saying here is Dana stating that romance was not the show’s endgame, and that is not what I’m suggesting. I have more to speculate on Amity’s role, so going from that I can say that this would in a way be a continuation of what we saw in EE. Something like: Okay, so you want to become your own person, in order to do that I’ll have to make some tough decisions, here’s your first one. It’s like confronting this infant who just took its first steps with the knowledge she’s actually running a marathon.

Anyhow, I don’t really feel well equipped to speculate on how things would play out on Luz’s end so let’s shake things up a bit and try to see things from Camilla’s perspective before getting to the long awaited conclusion. And by long awaited I mean me, this was more tiring than I expected but what the hell, I’m almost done. I can see the finish line already, so yeah. 

So, Camilla. What we know given the trailer and the Grom episode is essentially this: she is most likely aware Luz never made to the Reality Check Camp in the first place, and that regardless of where she is there’s someone who (up until the Grom episode) was sending her these comforting messages. If and only if, all I’ve said is right then well have a line of communication between one of Luz’s big arguments for staying in the Isles and her biggest argument for coming back.

Hold on to your tin foil hats, y’all need it. Because my next point is: once Camilla finds out that the letters she’d been receiving up to that are more than a bit sketchy (her ooooohhhh face at the trailer could be that) and if she has some means of responding to them, which I mean... That’s the closest thing to a lead as to Luz’s whereabouts she has, she most likely would confront this hypothetical Amity if that’s the case. If the stars align just right there’s a pretty good chance Amity would give the broad strokes of Luz‘s situation in as much a cryptic fashion as she can, as well as start creating some form rappor with Camilla. Meaning that that choice she’d have to make as I mentioned before would get this extra layer of nuance, because now she knows beyond any doubt that if Luz does cross the portal she’d be with someone who deeply cares about her. Moreover, if I’m right about Amity’s upcoming conflict centering around her apprehension with Luz crossing the portal, her correspondence with Camilla could be a way for her to overcome this fear, for better or for worse. In other words, Camilla possibly unknowing giving her potential daughter-in-law the necessary tools for her to grow as a person. And honestly, I think that would be a pretty cool story.

And that could cause a pretty interesting dynamic between the three of them: Luz not sure as to who she wants to chose to become and most likely getting very upset once she learns of Amity’s lie, whilst still wanting (I don’t really have a defense for this I just think it’d be interesting) to keep her first romantic or potentially romantic relationship, while also being worried as to how things would be with her mother considering her own lie; Amity lying to Luz, while trying to balance out her on desires versus her loved one well-being; and Camilla having mixed feeling about Amity or whoever wrote those letters (they did lie to her after all), worrying like crazy about Luz and also feeling a tad upset at Luz’s lie. 

And holy shit I think that does it. I’m done.

Anyone, next finale is “Luz x Camilla x Amity”, that out of the way like Lilith x Eda and Lilith x Luz, my guess is that season 2.5 finale would be “Gus and Willow x Luz” or “Luz x Eda and King”, the finale finale therefore would most like be Luz x Luz.

Ci vediamo.

{Couple of edits I just thought would be important:

1 - I know that considering what I’ve said regarding the mid-season final may seem like a bit too much for a 20 something minutes episode. But I mean, this fandom and Amphibia’s seem to overlap quite a bit, and we all saw the metric ton of information they threw at us during True Colors. All that I’ve said seem to me well withing the realm of possibility.

2 - In the EXTREMELY unlikely chance I’m absolutely on point on everything I’ve just spouted (Despite being purposefully vague. But oh well. We can argue the semantics of vagueness some other time) I’ll consider this fandom as owing me a rendition of The Number of the Beast’s cover art (the album, not the single... not even I am morbid enough for that) featuring the Owl Beast, Belos and Kikimora or the Golden Boi. I call it the Owl Maiden. Will I go aggro if no one does that? No. Do I have means to demand it in any forceful way that would grant that I’d get to see said rendition? hahahaha I obviously don’t. Will I be poutty? Yes, that will 100% happen. But really, that would be for the benefit of us as a community. I mean, that look pretty awesome and you can’t argue otherwise.}

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//missing pieces. miya atsumu//

Warnings: mild swearing.  Feelings of hopelessness. infidelity

Word Count: 2.2K

Notes: imnotcryingimnotcryingimnotcrying.

{Read Part II - "Broken Pieces" HERE}

You heard them before they even entered the door.  The loud shouts and the howls of laughter.  If you sat up enough on the couch, the MSBY training jackets were visible through the front window.  Hinata’s orange hair bounced wildly as he jumped excitedly with his older Jackals.  It was the fifth time this week that the boys had come over after practice.

It was the fifth time this week that the boys had disrupted your much needed study time.  A senior in college, a list of midterms too long to comprehend, and more mental breakdowns than you cared to account for, the hours that your boyfriend was at practice and you could relax and study in the comfort of your shared home was pure bliss.  

The door swung open, giving you a full account of just how loud they were being.  Atsumu was doubled over in fits of giggles, tugging his sneakers off, Hinata and Bokuto shouting bits and pieces of the same story only a few steps behind.  

“Y/N? You here?” Atsumu calls out as he is finally able to calm himself down enough to speak normally again.

“Living room, ‘mu!”

In a matter of seconds, he’s bounding into the room, leaning over your shoulder.  “I’m home.”  You don’t even have to look at him to know that he has the widest grin on his face, just like he always does when he gets back from practice.  No matter how long or how grueling his day, Atsumu never fails to greet you with the biggest smile.

“I see that.  How was practice?”

“Good! My hands are kinda sore though,” he whines, opening and closing his hands in front of you as if to show you the pain he was enduring.  

“Well, you’re new to this pro stuff still, Atsumu.  Your body will get used to it soon.”

“Yeah, I know.”  He sighs a little, resting his chin on the top of your head.  “The guys are here.”

“Trust me, I, and the entire neighborhood, know.  Let me just finish this question real quick and I’ll let you guys have the living room.” 

“Aw, come on!  You don’t want to hang out with us?”

“I need to study or else I would love to.”

He hums in affirmation.  “You’re going to do so well.  I’ll make sure we keep it down so you can focus, okay?” There’s a soft kiss placed on your head as you pack up your laptop and notes so you can go study in the bedroom.

“Thank you, ‘mu,” you say, standing on your toes to give his lips a short peck as you pass.  

But that was then.

And this was now. 

“Are you serious?! You can’t lock me out of my room, Y/N!”

“Our room, Atsumu, and too bad.  I did!”

His fist pounds on the door, the intensity of each knock sending vibrations throughout the room.  “Y/N, this is ridiculous! Open the door!”

“I’m trying to work.  This report has to be done for tomorrow. Please, ‘mu.”

“Don’t ‘mu’ me when you’re literally locking me out the bedroom!”

You roll your eyes, leaning over to twist the lock and tug the door open.  Your boyfriend tumbles into the room as his support is swung away from him.  He doesn’t even look at you.  He just goes straight to the closet, throwing clothes onto the bed.  “Where are you going?” You ask, looking up from your laptop briefly as he throws a pair of jeans a little too far, hitting you in the leg.

“Does it matter?”  He starts peeling off the lounge clothes that he had been wearing most of the day, opting for a slightly more put together outfit for his night out.

You just shrugged.  “I guess not.” Yes.

“Then don’t worry about it.”  Atsumu tugs his jeans up and takes a look at himself in the mirror.  He ruffles his hand through his hair in a poor attempt to give it some extra volume. You watch him make a few dumb facial expressions at himself.  Satisfied, he pulls his hat over his head.  With wallet and phone in hand, he finally turns to look at you.  “Okay.  I’ll see you later,” he states plainly, walking past you and out the bedroom door.

“Do you have your keys?”  The only answer you receive is an annoyed jingle of his keyring from the other room.  

The thud of front door closing is the sole sign that he had left.  There were no final shouts of “Bye, princess! I love you!” “I love you more, ‘mu!” “I love you most!” Those days have long since past.  They had been replaced with eerie silences and quick exits from both parties.  Life in the current household was far from what it had been a year ago.  There were no soft shared kisses just because.  No gentle teases as the evening news played in the background.  No long cuddle sessions on the couch because both of you were too lazy to get up to go to bed. There was no smacking his hands out of the mixing bowl while you tried to make dinner.

Atsumu wasn’t home long enough for those things anymore.  He’d come running in from practice, quickly shower and change out of his sweaty clothes.  And as fast as he came, he would be gone, maybe shouting “I’m going out with the guys!” but usually, he would just leave, the slam of the door echoing through the house.  

You kept telling yourself that this would pass.  He was just excited to finally be achieving his dreams.  Of course he would want to hang out with his new teammates and friends.  There was a level of trust there that he needed to build with them as their setter and if crowding around Hinata’s television, playing video games was how they bonded, then so be it.  Who were you to tell his team how they should and shouldn’t spend their time?  But this had been going on for months.  

Months of no hellos and no good mornings.  Months of Atsumu coming home late, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath as he tucked into bed an arm’s length away from you.  He returned affection with the minimum amount of effort, maybe a short apology as he broke away from a kiss, explaining that the guys were waiting for him.  It felt like a wedge had been shoved between the two of you, the rest of the Black Jackals jamming you further and further away from him.  

Part of you kept hoping that you would wake up, secured in his arms, a gruff “Good morning” whispered in your ear only followed by a soft whine as you tried to get out of his grasp, causing him to just pull you tighter into his chest.  You kept hoping that whatever switch flipped in his head to cause this would flip back and the Atsumu that you fell in love with would come back to you, but it never happened.  He just kept straying away, not even bothering to look back at how far he had drifted.

You had hoped today would be different.  It wasn’t every day that the two of you accomplished four years of putting up with each other’s bullshit.  But, when his alarm sounded and he just got up like nothing was different, that slight bubble of hope that was buried in your chest popped.  Maybe- maybe he just wanted to focus before practice.  Yeah, that’s all this was.  Surely, he hadn’t forgotten, right?  Atsumu could be a jerk, but he wasn’t that much of an asshole.  He wouldn’t have forgotten your anniversary. 

“What’s this for?” he had asked as he took the neatly wrapped package from you as he sat down at the table, his bowl of cereal nearly empty.

So, he did forget.

“I’ll open it later.  I’m going to try to get a run in before practice.”  You didn’t even have the chance to wish him a happy anniversary before he got up to put his bowl in the sink, headed out of the room to slip on his sneakers for his jog.

So, now, as you sat in your shared bed, it felt like the unopened package was staring intently into your soul, mocking you for your failing relationship.  Four years of laughter, excitement, and love seemed to mean nothing to him and you couldn’t figure out what you did to make him choose volleyball.  It was his dream and you understood that.  You would never keep him from being the man he always dreamed of being.  

It tore you apart inside, this feeling of absolute failure.  It had been bugging you for a while now, but this- that stupid box sitting on his side of the bed, was your breaking point.  You didn’t understand what you did.  Why was he pushing you away?  Did you not support him enough?  Did he think that you didn’t care for him? As the questions weighed heavily on your mind, you felt that all-too-familiar sting of salty tears forming in your eyes.  

You shook your head, silently begging for the tears to just go away.  I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry.  I am not going to cry.  He wasn’t upset, so you shouldn’t be either, right?  But, you were.  You were devastated that no matter how hard you tried to put everything back together, the pieces just kept slipping out from between your fingertips and just as soon as everything felt like it was all coming back together, Atsumu would be holding the final pieces to puzzle, refusing to snap them into their place.  In his hands, he held the most important pieces.  Those gorgeous center parts that brought the entire picture into focus, showing off the breath-taking beauty of it.  But, as of now, it was just the background, the few random bits and bobs, scattered around the scene, each beautiful in their own way, but meaning nothing without the center point of the image.  

The worst part?  You didn’t know when the pieces of your relationship went scattering all over the place, leaving you to scramble, picking everything up on your own while Atsumu was at practice or hanging out with the guys.  You just know that it’s felt like ages since everything was put together in perfect harmony.

You wanted to scream.  You wanted to cry.  You wanted to pull your hair from your head so you could feel something, anything, other than this complete and utter worthlessness and despair that had been swelling within your chest, waiting to be let out.

The hot tears rushed down your face in torrents, but apart from your gentle sniffs, there was silence.  There were no sounds of pitiful weeping.  It was an art that you had learned to perfect after many nights where these feelings washed over you, not wanting to wake Atsumu, not wanting him to stare at you with blank eyes and tell you to, “Stop crying and go to bed.”

But, right now- right now, you didn’t care.  You wanted to hear his voice in your ear, shushing you, reassuring you that everything was fine, just like it used to.  The line rings, rings, rings -

��You’ve reached Miya Atsumu.  Sorry that I missed your call, but if you leave me a message, I’ll get back to you!”

The beep that signals you to leave your message is what urges you to just hang up.  You toss your phone to the side, hoping that, just maybe, he’ll notice your missed call and give you a call back or even just a text message would be good enough for you.

But, there never was.  There was no soft ting at the sound of an incoming message.  You never heard the ringtone that had been set to Atsumu’s contact, signifying that he had called you.  You waited hours, your eyes being dry for a long while at this point, leaving just the shell of a broken person in your place.  Your gaze never left that stupid box.  You were entranced, staring at the black and gold paper, watching it sheen as it would catch the light slipping in from the window.  

Not even the sound of the swinging open could pull you out of your emotionless gaze.  Miya Atsumu just stared into your face, eyes red and puffy, streaks in your make-up where the tears removed your foundation. Somewhere deep within his chest, there was a soft pang of sadness.  There was nothing that he hated more than seeing you so distraught that you completely shut down. Yet, he said nothing.  He simply pulled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his drawer, pulling his clothes off his body to change into something that he could sleep in.  His shirt came off and your gaze became fixated on his toned chest.

But, even your empty eyes knew the bright red lines of scratches and the harsh purple bruises of a hickey when you saw them.

“‘Mu?”

[3d-wifey]

Toxic Headcanons

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima x Reader, Tenya Iida x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Reader, Denki Kaminari x Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Nothing really, just some angst

A/N: It's been a while since I posted anything, sorry y'all.🤚🏾😓

Iida is a total prude — You knew this going into the relationship, in fact, you thought it was kind of cute. However, Iida proved to be exceedingly strict. Being his girlfriend made you exempt from some of his rules, but he never shied away from reprimanding you in front of others.

He would completely disapprove of you wearing anything that might be considered dishonorable. Shorts, dresses that end above the knee, shirts that show cleavage or your abdomen. Honestly, just anything that shows more skin than he considers necessary and he wouldn't hesitate to tell you.

No PDA — You want to hold his hand, he'll rip it away and lecture you about how it might make your fellow classmates uncomfortable. You kiss his cheek, he'll go bright red and shout about keeping such things in the privacy of your dorms. The fact that your boyfriend won't even touch you, even non-sexually, is a different type of embarrassment.

It honestly feels more like he's babysitting you than dating you. He'll find fault in everything you do. From your academic work to your hero studies, whatever you're doing could be done better.

"I understand that since we entered a relationship there are certain displays of affection that you would like to participate in. However, I refuse to partake in anything that might tarnish the Iida name. I would suggest you reevaluate your behavior. I would hate to chastise you in front of our peers again."

He's insecure — Normally, there'd be nothing wrong with having self-doubts or self-esteem issues, but Eijiro takes it to a new level. He hangs around people with pretty powerful quirks. Quirks that he believes are far more flashy and manly than his. Since he hangs out with these people, you hang out with these people. And that introduces another aspect to his insecurities.

If you spend time with literally anyone, he'll go on a rant about how he understands how much better they are than him and he'll accept it if you want to break up with him. Try to reassure him all you want, there's already a seed of doubt planted in his mind and the roots only grow. Trying to prove you love him gets exhausting.

He's Possessive — This builds off of his insecurity. He claims that he just wants to spend time with his girl, and the clinginess was cute in the beginning. But, then he started to ask all these questions. Where were you going? Who were you going with? When were you going? Did you like hanging out with them more than him? Why not just stay and cuddle in his dorm with him, babe? He's all you need anyway, right?

Again, it's kind of cute at the beginning, but once you realize he's the only friend you have left, it's too late.

He always guilt trips you — Whenever you argue (probably about him ending all of your friendships), Kiri never owns up to his part in it. At least, not in the way it counts. Once he sees that it's a serious disagreement, he'll start apologizing and talking down on himself. It'll get so bad that you have to comfort him even if he's in the wrong.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I'm a horrible boyfriend. You have every right to be mad at me, and I totally get it if you want to break up with me. Why would you ever want to stay with someone like me anyways? I have no right to call myself a hero, let alone a man."

Horrible Communication — This really shouldn't be surprising considering what kind of environment he grew up in. If he ever has any type of problem, you'll never know. It's not that he's actively trying to keep things from you, but he'll have no way of knowing that he should be sharing certain things with you. You'll go days without talking to each other; honestly, he could break a bone and you would probably be the last person to know.

He's manipulative — It comes down to the fact that Shoto is more like his father than he cares to admit. He has been bathed in constant attention since he was born, and that kind of undivided attention is something he'll want from you too. He knows he'll get his desired reaction from you if he just ignores you. It constantly makes you think you did something wrong. It has to be your fault, right? You'll try to make it up to him, unknowingly falling right into his trap. He's also not above using his past as an excuse. After hearing how he grew up, how could you stay mad at him?

He's oblivious — He's not stupid, obviously, but he'll fall short on some things you would think were common sense. You're gonna be held at arm's length, for starters. You would think being his girlfriend would make you two pretty close, but it'll feel like he confides in his friends more than you. He doesn't have a good example of what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like, so don't expect him to do anything romantic unless you tell him so. He also doesn't have a filter, meaning he's brutally honest. Don't be surprised if he hurts your feelings in his monotonous voice.

"I don't understand why you're upset. I'm sorry that you feel that way, but I wasn't really taught how to properly handle this situation. Could you forgive me?"

He somehow has a superiority and an inferiority complex — This will cause a huge power imbalance in your relationship. If he thinks your quirk is weaker than his, you'll never hear the end of it. He'll make little joking comments about you being "weaker", but there's a little venom behind them that makes you wonder if he actually thinks of you like that.

Belittling remarks here and there. If you ever get hurt in training or in a fight, he'll blame it on your quirk not being good enough to protect you. God forbid your quirk is stronger than his; he'll deny it to his last breath, but there will be a shadow of jealously that's always drifting over your relationship. He'll constantly challenge you to fights and you better not go easy on him or he'll think you're pitying him. He would kind of see you as more of a rival than a girlfriend and it'll be tiring toeing the line of stroking his ego and not coddling him.

He's pretty set in his ways — It might not seem like it, but Katsuki is very organized. He has a very set routine that he follows and if you want to date him, you'll have to squeeze your way in. He'll expect you to be accommodating towards his schedule and he isn't willing to meet you halfway. Getting him to try anything new is like pulling out teeth.

He's possessive — This obviously goes hand in hand with his arrogance and low self-esteem. He's smothering. Why hang around with other people when you can hang out with him? Why do you need space? You love him, don't you? If you really loved him, you wouldn't want to be apart from him.

He'll never like any of your friends. He's always finding something wrong with them or something about them that irritates him, and he isn't afraid to tell them that to their faces. It'll get to the point that your friends won't invite you to hang out if Bakugou's with you, and he's always with you.

"Tch, the hell are you crying for? You wouldn't be in this situation if you had just listened to me, idiot. What do you want extras like that for anyways? I'm all you need."

He doesn't take anything seriously — He's a total class clown and his sense of humor is one of the things that drew you to him, but this comes with a drawback. He's pretty insensitive, so he'll never think he's in the wrong, in any situation. He won't be taking your feelings into account. He's not the type of guy you would go to if you need a shoulder to cry on or if you want to be comforted, which is disappointing since that's kind of what partners do.

He'll crack jokes about you, which is fine at first, but he doesn't know where to draw the line. If you try to tell him that the jokes are getting out of hand he'll stop saying them in front of you, but you never said anything about saying them when you weren't there. He's also got a thing about taking about other girls with his friends despite dating you. If you tell him it hurts your feelings, he'll say you're just overreacting and it must be that time of the month again. You can throw out the idea of having any important conversations with him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Are you happy now? I swear sometimes you can be such a drama queen, babe. You need to grow some thicker skin."

[thronesofshadows]

We Are All Right Here || Deirdre & Evelyn

TIMING: Before Evelyn’s Birthday (early April) LOCATION: Deirdre and Morgan’s home PARTIES: @deathduty and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Deirdre and Evelyn have a complicated discussion of love and loss. CONTENT: Discussions of grief

Deirdre sat still, swirling blood-red wine as peered over at Evelyn through the glass. Symmetrical features, a face that would’ve made millions just by looking pretty as easily as it did upwelling wine, skewed and tiny in the reflection of glass. She looked like a leprechaun, all of her stunning height gone away in tiny glass. Deirdre laughed. “This wine tastes like shit.” Deirdre threw her hands up, meaning no offense. She had invited Evelyn over, after all. And she had asked Evelyn to bring wine—good wine, as she put it over the phone. It wasn’t very hostly of her to complain, but the wine was weird. She set the glass down and uncrossed her legs. “I know you’re the expert, but are you sure this is the good wine? It tastes like something died in it….which normally I would be into but…” She looked up and grinned at her friend. “Well, you’re probably tired of talking about wine and it’s been so long since we’ve gotten together like this...why don’t you tell me what’s going on in your life?” 

Given how fond she was of Deirdre, Evelyn was ashamed that she hadn’t spent more time with the other woman recently. She didn’t even have a truly good excuse - which made her feel bad. Not a feeling that she had found herself at all familiar with until more recently. “Some wine is more of an acquired taste.” Evelyn shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “I shall endeavor to find something better next time.”  She matched Deirdre’s grin. Relaxed just slightly in her chair, though the urge to hold herself in perfect posture managed to come through even around those that she genuinely found herself most relaxed around. “It has been too long, and I offer my apologies for that. We need to do this more often, I think.” At Deirdre’s question, her mind flashed to Miriam for a moment, but that still felt like too much to share. Avoiding talking about personal details of her life was certainly something that had proven to let her down before, but there were still far too many times when the words got caught in her throat. “I had to get my windows replaced some months back, and so I did some other redesigning within my home. A good friend got me a piano for the holidays and so I have begun to think I might need to properly take up piano again. How about yourself?” Evelyn pushed the glass of wine to the side, letting her gaze rest on her friend.

Deirdre ran her tongue along her lips, tasting the last drops of a bitter red wine, with notes of…well, Deirdre wasn’t the one with the discerning tastes, as much as she liked to think she could tell the difference between twelve dollar wine and thousand dollar wine. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a sommelier. There goes that dream.” She sighed and placed her glass down, crossing her legs. As Evelyn spoke though, Deirdre’s lips twitched, and an eyebrow raised in question. A town like White Crest, a woman like Evelyn, she had to be up to better things than replacing windows (no doubt Regan’s fault) and practicing her piano. Not that Deirdre wasn’t happy to hear these things—it truly had been such a long time—but her standards for news were a little high. “That’s it?” She uncrossed her legs, leaning in. “You mean to tell me, in all this time, all you’ve done is some redecorating and piano practice? Really?” Deirdre leaned back, casually gesturing a hand in the air. “You must be hiding the juicy secrets from me. But what’s said during wine night, stays in wine night.” The banshee reached for her glass again, taking a sip. “For example, I’ve been up to—“ Deirdre grimaced; she wasn’t about to tell anyone she was going to therapy, and couples therapy at that. But if she expected to hear the juicy bits of Evelyn’s life, perhaps she ought to offer her own. “—Morgan and I are going to couples therapy.” She raised her glass and downed the rest of the contents. “Now you.” 

“You do just fine, Deirdre,” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “If you wish, I can always teach you more about discerning different types of wine from one another.” She set her glass on the table, watching the redness of the wine settle against the crystal clear glass. “Besides, I never set out to do what I now do, so perhaps you could be an expert someday. If you wish. If not, you do have me around for as long as you wish, and I am happy to find wines that best suit you.” She was more than alright to move beyond discussing wine - she had no specific qualms with the discussion at hand, but she liked to think that her and Deirdre’s friendship extended beyond that. On a good day, when she cared to think of herself as someone who could have friends, she liked to think that it extended far beyond that. “Well, both of those are rather important. I have not played the piano in a number of years, and it feels rejuvenating to return to it.” She held her tongue lightly between her teeth. “I respect that, but besides being not human, I do not think I have had many juicy secrets, not truly.” Her mind flashed to Miriam, and she fiddled with the necklace, running her thumb carefully against the stones. She blinked a few times - almost, bizarrely, reflexively - at Deirdre’s next comment. “I hope it is helpful.” Her father hadn’t thought that was a good thing, and she’d come to realize that maybe as a child it wouldn’t have been, in her case. It wasn’t like a human therapist would understand. “I…” she dropped her hand from the necklace. “Seem to have found someone who I care for rather beyond what I imagined I could. This is the second time this has happened in a year, and though it is beautiful, I am unsure of exactly how to …” she trailed off, “well, how to come to terms with that, given how I have seen myself for so long.”

Deirdre played with the idea in her head, but thought it was just a little too late. She had no one left to impress with wine knowledge—Evelyn seemed to like her just fine and… Deirdre reached to fill her glass again, taking long, big sips. “I think it’s been a good thing,” she responded, finding her reflection in dark, maroon depths more interesting to stare at. Morgan was happier, and the two of them, happier together, and for that alone she would call the venture into therapy a victory. Yet, something about it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. A relic of old prejudices, perhaps. Or the wine. She was delighted, then, that Evelyn found something happier to confess. “Really?” Deirdre lifted her head up, a wide smile offered. “Like….like you did Melanie?” Deirdre delight at the news betrayed her. After all, she was a romantic, and forever optimistic to notions of love ever since Morgan, who was infinitely better than any fantasy, because she wasn’t one and yet, still was. “Evelyn…” she paused, setting her glass aside again. “....how is it that you see yourself? You’ve found two relationships in one year, granted one ended poorly but...if anything, wouldn’t that mean you’re a woman with a loving heart? And Melanie…” Deirdre trailed off, unsure how to approach the dead girlfriend topic. “....well, how is it you see yourself? Caring for someone is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” 

“I think it can be, though I know that - well, that therapy of any sort would not have been something my father would have wanted for me.” She admitted, for something of a first time. It was something that she’d not even thought about much, simply because it just was. That was not what her family did. Lord Robert did not believe in it, much like he did not believe in education surrounded by other children. Revealing too much of oneself, especially emotionally, was not something that would do any of them any good. So Evelyn believed it herself, well enough. She wasn’t supposed to cry too much if she got hurt, and she wasn’t supposed to be overly excited, unless it was at an event and the situation demanded it. Even then, pleasant smiles and a grin flashed here and there were far more preferable. “I -” she ran her tongue over her teeth, switching it to press against the roof of her mouth. “Perhaps. It may well be something in that direction…” she let her voice trail off. “I see myself as someone for whom relationships and romance do not necessarily mix with. I have been shut away for much of my life, and strong emotions do not go well with me, always. Relationships beget such things, and I find that all to be overwhelming. I think I can love - I think I have not really been able to, much before.” She glanced down at her wine as Deirdre brought up Melanie again. “I want to care, but what if I do it all wrong? I locked my dolls away when I became angered with them, even though I was supposed to care for them and treat them well - and you cannot do that with a person - not literally, at least. Furthermore - what if they do not care back? My father - well, parents are supposed to love you and he does, but he does not care for me. Do I make any sense?”

“Your father is a prick.” Deirdre said plainly, leaning back into her seat. She gestured, lips parted, as if to follow up with ‘what? He is’. Something more unspoken about the way humans can be, the things they don’t understand. And parents, more concerned with rules and proprietary than the people their children are. As Evelyn continued, Deirdre sat up, shifting to the edge of her couch, then down its length to Evelyn’s side. She had been locked away once, instead of a sprawling mansion she was given an old countryside, with greenery for days. She had thought emotions below her, beyond her, made for other, weaker people. Until she cried, when her great-great-grandmother died. When she moved here and fell in love, with a human, and the way they can be, and the things they don’t understand. And it flickered through her mind, about a dozen times, if all she was capable of was care in the image of her mother; cruelty dressed like love. She and Evelyn had led different lives, but some pains were shared, it seemed. “You make perfect sense,” she whispered, hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Will you let me tell you how I see you?” 

Deirdre drew in breath, pulling her hand off Evelyn to reach down and pick a cat hair off her immaculate friend. She held it up between them, one of Niamh’s hairs, and thought it was funny; as much as she cleaned, one still managed to find its way on to Evelyn. “You have several relationships already.” She flicked the hair to the floor. “Friends, colleagues, the sexual tension you share with an exclamation mark….and you care for them too. You have offered my more kindness as a friend than I know how to thank. And it’s strange to hear you say you’re worried that you might do it all wrong, when you’ve been doing it so well for so long.” Of course Deirdre knew romantic relationships were a little different. Of course she understood that fear, specifically. And so, she drew in another breath and continued. “I see you as a woman of considerable strength; it takes some to be someone who accepts the tide of the world as you do. I could spill wine over your clothes, to no anger, and that has never struck me as coldness, but care. You know what there is to value and what there isn’t; what might you feel if you spilt wine over my attire? Wouldn’t you offer to buy me new clothes? Emotions don’t need to be loud, nor care as garish. Emotions are always strong, even when they’re quiet. To me, Evelyn, you have always been a woman of considerable intelligence, for yourself and the world around you. An ambitious woman, and a prudent one. Most of all, a friend who has cared for me, and Morgan, better than you think you have, I feel.” 

She paused, finding Evelyn’s hand to clasp in hers. Her fingers were cold, and Evelyn’s warm, but she knew the blonde wouldn’t mind—and never, for a lack of care. “Okay, so maybe I think you’re too prudent, sometimes,” Deirdre laughed. “But I think being worried about all this is a good sign, to start. You do care, and you do care well, and I know the last few times you’ve cared for someone went...well there was that failed relationship, and Melanie….” Deirdre trailed off, looking at Evelyn. “Do those feel like failures, to you? Are you worried they might happen again?” 

Evelyn only bit her lip at Deirdre’s remark. He does love me, she wanted to emphasize again, but she could hear what Melanie had said to that, and what she very well imagined Deirdre might also say. Yes, but he is still a jerk. So she just gave Deirdre a small shrug. There was no use arguing with her on several fronts - for one, Deirdre was steadfast in her beliefs (and they were beliefs that Evelyn did, at least in this case, believe as well, even if she didn’t always choose to vocalize them quite as bluntly or as often as her friend did) - and for two, she did not see much point in arguing, especially if it were about something like this. They’d both been shut away - even if she didn’t know as much about Deirdre as she found herself wanting to know. She did know that they’d both lived somewhat secret lives for their childhoods, though, even if Deirdre’s was surrounded by others who understood her far more than Evelyn’s father or nannies ever had. Which meant something, and Evelyn knew Deirdre knew that - that even though she had been surrounded by so much, her childhood had also been greatly lacking in other ways.

She nodded at Deirdre’s request, watching as her friend picked a cat hair off of her. Ironic, given the actual animal’s distaste for her, but something oddly, wonderfully normal. Evelyn watched Deirdre carefully as she spoke. At the exclamation mark comment she raised an eyebrow, though her expression showed nothing but one of quiet amusement. “You are under no obligation to thank me - I - well, I just have behaved as though I ought to.” Which was, quite possibly, in a properly kind way, no matter how odd that was to process. She’d never thought of herself as a rude child, but she also knew that rumors about her being icy had to have come from somewhere, and so she’d not especially thought of herself as kind, unless a situation called for it. Unless it won her some particular favor or granted her access to either knowledge or material items that she craved. Yet she took in Deirdre’s words. Maybe I can be, she mused, silently. “Of course I would. I would purchase something new for you, but in the interim I would loan you anything in my closet so that you did not have to wear stained clothing.” She sucked in her lower lip for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say to Deirdre’s words - incredibly kind, and yet still startling - to have someone in her life as valuable as Deirdre was. Who didn’t disregard her because of how she saw the world, or how she didn’t prefer to make a big show of things. Who didn’t judge her for her upbringing. “You deserve everything I have been able to offer you - I think that in certain circumstances, I only wish that I could have offered you more.”

She let Deirdre take her hand, and Evelyn found that the coldness of Deirdre’s hand was almost comforting, in a way. Miriam was cold too, and Evelyn found far too often that she preferred that, that it had practically become normal for her. “Yes, well, I shall not disagree with you on that. I am well-aware I can be.” She gave Deirdre’s hand a small, light squeeze. “I feel as though something must be wrong with me, perhaps, to have such things happen. I am worried, too. Not afraid, I do not think - though I am unsure of how I would feel fear myself, given what I am, but I am worried that in caring for someone deeply, I will only bring about sorrow to the both of us and this person - she does not deserve that. I do not want to hurt her, ever.”

The thought that Evelyn could be anything other than kind was laughable to Deirdre. It must have felt like propriety in Evelyn’s mind, but Deirdre knew enough of the world to know how to tell kindness apart. “You are kind, my friend,” she emphasized, wishing she could grab Evelyn’s words out of the air and point to them. “And you have nothing more you should offer me. Except doing this with me more often. I miss wine nights.” She laughed gently, wondering if she could transfer some of her ease to Evelyn. Wondering just how much pain was hidden away, how much she had been taught to hide. And could it fix everything now that there were people who cared? Who would listen? Pay attention? Care? Deirdre played with the thoughts in her head, finding the answers blank. After all, she couldn’t answer them even for herself. “A mara can’t be afraid?” Deirdre smiled, “well I guess I don’t expect you to be afraid of giant spiders or showing up to school with no pants on, but I’ll agree to call it worried. You’re worried.” Semantics didn’t matter in the end, anyway. “You’re right, she doesn’t deserve that hurt,” Deirdre leaned back, “and neither do you. You don’t deserve to lose anyone, not ever. Not now, not then, not tomorrow. But you don’t cause the sorrow around you, Evelyn. And most of all–“ Deirdre looked around; the wine glasses, the little bones on displays, the table Ariana carved, Lydia’s vase. “–it’s inevitable. Hurting people around you, being hurt. People are clumsy, rash, insensitive, emotional and distant. You hurt people without meaning to, you are kind to people without meaning to. Perhaps it is no comfort to know that it just happens but….it does just happen.” Her and Morgan were in therapy, for one thing. For all she didn’t mean to hurt her, she had. And for all Morgan didn’t mean to hurt her, she had too. Deirdre figured it was the way intertwining lives worked; some love, some pain, some adjustment. 

Deirdre turned back to Evelyn, offering out her arms. “How do you feel about hugs, friend?” She stayed that way, grinning, until she was met with her answer. “What I’ve learned is, the best you can do is….just that. The best you can do. When you love, you love as you know best, and you learn better, and then you do better. But you learn. And you might just do something one day that hurts her, she might do something like that to you, maybe some sorrow out of your control happens...and at the end, all you can do is decide to move forward. If a relationship is what you want, then some pain is inevitable as you grow and learn and fit your lives together. But it’s worth it, I think. And it’s not your fault. You’ve cared for me, and have only brought me joy. And no matter what happens with this mystery woman, I will be your friend, Evelyn. I will be here. And I will care for you too, just like you have for me. And perhaps that isn’t comfort, and it certainly isn’t advice, but I do care for you, and I suspect I always might.” 

“I can be. If I wish.” Evelyn shifted her body again, unsure of how to completely respond to Deirdre’s words. Because she wasn’t - she hadn’t always been kind but perhaps there was something to be said about how kindness could be intrinsic, or that she could still be kind even if she suffered through moments of unkindness. Though that sounded too philosophical - or, if she were to admit it, very much like something Arthur might have said to her at one point or another at Cambridge. Her stomach turned at the thought - though she knew he was happy, it was someone else who had left. Left her. Someone else who she could go to for anything in the world. She took another sip of her wine, holding it in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. “Yes. Of course we can. I would love to spend more time with you.” She kept her posture still mostly stiff, though relaxed just slightly. Despite knowing that Deirdre understood (perhaps better than most, save for Miriam) about how she’d been raised. Emotions were useless, and when you were told that enough times, it became easier to shutter that away. Easier than admitting to it, because she’d learned long ago that when she cried after tripping, her father found it more annoying than anything else. All it earned her was a quick, cold kiss on her forehead. He loved her, but he’d never been good at showing that, and she knew that his love for her was conditional to a degree, and that perhaps she would have earned greater favor had she been human. “I do not think that I have the normal capacity for fear? I have never felt properly scared in my life, I do not think. From all I have read about, and experienced through my feeds, I think I understand, but I do not think I feel that way.” She scrunched her nose. “I - yes, perhaps I am.” She listened, wide-eyed to Deirdre’s words. You don’t cause the sorrow around you. “It feels as though I do, sometimes. That something in me causes this, because I do not think that this would happen were I…” human, better than I am, “different.” She blinked a few times at Deirdre’s words. It was still strange, having a friend who cared for her as much as Deirdre did. “It does, I suppose - and I do have such gratitude for all the kind words you offer me. You can be quite kind yourself, you know.”

She didn’t know how she felt about hugs. As a child, she’d only been hugged a few times by her father and though she’d been hugged by her nannies, being touched by people had always been odd to her, though in a quick moment she let herself be welcomed into Deirdre’s embrace. Evelyn shut her eyes for a moment, just staying there. It felt nice - to be embraced by someone she considered one of her closest friends. “You know, you truly are quite wise.” She grinned. “I - I just do not want to hurt her. I doubt she could ever hurt me, but - well, I just do not wish to ever cause her discomfort.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Relationships are complicated. I - I just want to love her for as long as I can, I think.” She broke apart from Deirdre’s embrace for a moment. “I will be here for you, for as long as I am able. No matter what.” Her hand found Deirdre’s - chillier than her own, but once again comforting - she had, after all, found that she preferred that - so much so that she’d taken to running her hands under cold water at work when she missed Miriam enough - even when they were only apart for a few hours. “I suspect I might always care for you too, you know. Or, you know, my far shorter lifespan’s version of always.” She glanced down at her hands again. “I just do not know what I would do if I lost someone again the way I did Melanie.”

“Different…” Deirdre repeated with a frown. What did Evelyn mean? If she were human? If she weren’t part human? If she was a brunette? Deirdre shook her head. No, she knew what Evelyn meant. “I think that about myself all the time…” If she were better, someone else, more fae, less fae, blonde. “If only I were some better woman…” Her eyes drifted; her house was silent. The cats gave Evelyn a wide distance, and Morgan was not home. “I don’t really have the answer to that question, but I do know I like you just as you are.” She turned back to her friend, “and who’s to say if being someone else would change anything? All I really know is I would hate it if you were someone else, I promise that. I like you this way. I like Evelyn, half-Mara, blonde, daughter of a viscount and a ballet dancer. Sitting on my couch drinking my wine. My friend, Evelyn.” Deirdre grinned, straightening up. Compliments to her kindness were often poorly received but it felt special from Evelyn, it felt true. And if anyone knew how strange it was to be called kind, it would be her. “Only to the people who matter,” she leaned in and took her hug, “only to the good ones, anyway.” 

It was true that Deirdre didn’t have many close friends. One sat in an urn and one was her girlfriend. But her friendship with Evelyn was not precious because of its scarcity in her life. “You really love her, huh? I think that’s all that matters in the end.” She squeezed Evelyn’s hand back. “No one knows what they would do. Grief is never something you desire, and can only prepare for so much. And as much as I wish I could promise nothing will happen to your mystery lover, I can promise to be your friend, regardless. I won’t promise it because that would be bad for me but I could, and I would.” She laughed, clasping her other hand over Evelyn’s. “You could live every day worrying about losing people like you did Melanie. The truth is, Death will always take. But she’s not gone now, and neither are you. And these things are precious. More important than any worry ever will be. You are here, she is alive, you care for her just as she cares for you, and that bottle of wine is not going to drink itself.” 

Her friendship was precious because it was Evelyn. And as was the case with all things that mattered, it was precious because she loved her.