#so I’m glad he decided he doesn’t think our ideas ‘align’

[mostlykind]

the guy I was speaking to said he doesn’t think we’re compatible and I’ve never been happier lmao

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 5/2021) -              He’s Back

Now that Wilbur’s returned, it’s about time he got a look around the server to see what he’s missed since he’s been gone. Tommy gives him a tour.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Philza

Tommyinnit

Wilbur Soot

Skeppy

Captain Puffy

Foolish

---

- Ponk continues work on the supreme fridge in the desert

- Sam logs on to call Ponk handsome. Ponk replies that Punz isn’t online.

- Foolish logs on. 

Sam: Don’t ignore my messages ponk

Ponk: Hey, Foolish qt pie

Foolish: Oohhh ponk :)

Sam: He isn’t as cute as me :)

- Sam lands in front of Ponk as he’s watering the concrete. 

Ponk: “Oh, he’s gonna take my other arm!”

- Sam calls Ponk handsome again and hands him steak. Ponk tosses Sam the picture of Coraline’s mother

- Sam tells Ponk that he’s been doing squats and starts twerking to demonstrate

- Ponk shoves Sam off the fridge. When Sam survives, Ponk figures his booty helped save him from the fall, as Sam comments that the weight sent him falling too fast for him to MLG

- Ponk compliments Sam, saying his eyes are glowing like the stars in the ocean

Sam: It’s because I looked at you

Sam: :)

- Ponk and Sam watch the sunrise together. 

- They talk about Coraline’s mother. Ponk says that she is attractive...but not as attractive as Foolish. Sam immediately jumps off the fridge and runs away

Sam: you don’t got me atm. So it does matter.

Sam: I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

- Sam logs off

- Ranboo hires a mercenary Enderman to kill KSI

- Tommy meets with Wilbur at L’manhole

- Wilbur tells Tommy that all his memories are coming back. He remembers that Friend isn’t Tommy’s sheep but his own. 

- Wilbur wants Tommy to show him around to see what he’s missed. He takes Friend along despite Tommy worrying that Friend could die (”Who cares about a sheep, man? It’s just a sheep.”)

- Wilbur’s made some plans, debated with himself what to do now, and tells Tommy that he’s sorry. It may be hard to believe, but Wilbur’s turned over a new leaf! He feels great now and wants to apologize to people.

- Wilbur is in his forties now and asks how old Tommy is -- twenties, thirties? 

- First off, Tommy shows Wilbur Schlatt’s grave. Wilbur asks to see his own grave to see what people said about him. Tommy shows him L’manhole. Wilbur didn’t get a grave, only what he left behind.

- Wilbur sees Karl’s house (which he remembers), the Big Innit Hotel (which he doesn’t) and says he does remember a bit about the prison from Ghostbur’s memories of it.

- Skeppy comes walking past and they speak with him. Wilbur apologizes to Skeppy for not appreciating his trolling. Skeppy kills Friend by accident. He skepped all over Friend. 

- Skeppy runs away and asks Bad if tridents are like swords in terms of damage. Bad asks what he killed and learns that it was a blue sheep. Skeppy puts the trident in an Ender Chest. Bad warns Skeppy that he may have inadvertently started the next war, and Skeppy ends stream

- Wilbur comes across the invisible staircase and Tommy shows him the McPuffy’s. He asks about Karl. Last Wilbur remembered, Karl was an enemy of his, but has he changed? Tommy says he hasn’t seen Karl around much.

- They reach the hotel and Jack Manifold is standing at the desk. He and Tommy get into a shouting match but Wilbur is excited to see Jack. Jack welcomes him inside and Wilbur waits in one of the suites as Tommy and Jack argue in another room, listening in.

- Tommy takes him up to the roof. There, Tommy tells him about coming up with the plan there to murder Dream in the prison. 

Wilbur: “I’ve seen it all, you’ve had your little strifes -- this isn’t the first, right, Tommy. Tommy, do you remember when you got sent into exile? Yeah, I remember. I was there, Tommy. I was there. I was there -- I was in the cage of that little ghost’s fucking head. Every single step you and me took -- look at me, Tommy, look me in the eyes -- every single step me and you took, I was there -- I was there! I had no control of what was happening, I’ve no idea what was being said, but Tommy -- I’ll tell you what -- if I was there, and it wasn’t that stupid shell of a ghost instead of me...I would’ve struck down Dream right where he stood. We would’ve disemboweled him. We would’ve disemboweled him together.”

“Tommy, I’m not -- I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you, Tommy. I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo -- I saw what he was doing to me. But you know what, Tommy? I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there, was I. We had Ghostbur. Ghostbur was there instead, right. And you know what the issue is, you know what the issue is? After seeing Ghostbur interact with Dream, I realized that no, Dream is not the enemy -- Dream is not the enemy!”

“This world was not supposed to be inhabited by a people of this caliber -- Dream is the hero! Dream needs to be let out of here! Dream’s not in prison for being a horrible person, Dream’s in prison because he dared to try and stop you all. He dared to try and stop you all from gaining all this power, because the minute I was gone, there was a vacuum, there was opening, and everyone just seeked to get in there! And Dream was the only one who stood up to them and told them not to, Dream was the only one who held my seat for me. He held my -- he kept it warm! He kept my throne warm, and you guys didn’t like that, so you threw him in prison! And if Dream died instead of me, I would be in there right now.”

“So Tommy, you should thank that I wasn’t alive to attack Dream when we got exiled! You should be glad we had little, passive Ghostbur, because now Dream’s in there, and I’m out here, baby.”

- Wilbur heads back down to speak with Jack Manifold. He tells Jack that he’s sorry that he didn’t grant freedom to Manifoldland, sorry that he led Jack into war, sorry that he denied Jack access to the election, sorry that he left Jack behind. Jack is a little surprised, but he thanks him and Wilbur and Tommy leave the hotel. 

Tommy: “Wil, just look at me for a second. The reason we started L’manburg, and everything here, was because we knew -- together, me and you, the duo -- together we knew that Dream was the villain. He was the one holding this server down. He was the dictator! ‘Cause you’re telling me even then, you think...you think Dream was the hero?”

Wilbur: “Tommy, I’ve made an oath of not lying now that I’m alive again. So I’m gonna come clean to you with the truth. Uh...one thing, I didn’t actually care about L’manburg, I just cared about -- you know, sticking it to the man. Actually, I cared about L’manburg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man. You ever sticked it to the man, Tommy?”

“L’manburg was a tool. It was a great tool, it worked, you know. It divided so many people, man. Listen, Tommy, and in my oath of not lying I’m gonna tell you know -- Tommy, I’m sorry for a couple things, to each of these people on the server. I’m sorry to a lot of them -- except for Phil, I’ve nothing to apologize to Phil for. Phil’s done nothing wrong. But to the rest of them, I’m sorry for a lot of things -- but Tommy, that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try again.”

- Tommy is confused. L’manburg was Wilbur’s unfinished symphony, how could he not care about it? Wilbur says maybe it wasn’t the right wording, he did care about L’manburg, but for the “wrong reasons.” 

- Wilbur asks to see the museum (though Tommy was going to take him to the Egg). They make it to the museum and Wilbur is excited to see the hto dog van as Tommy continues to protest.

Tommy: “It was like we were a family! You can’t just say that!”

Wilbur: “We were family, Tommy! ...We were. But you know what? You just -- you just didn’t -- I guess you didn’t have the balls to follow along with me. When I pressed the button, you were always against -- we’re leaving it behind, Tommy. It’s in the past--”

Tommy: “You blew up our fucking home!”

Wilbur: “We’re friends now. We’re friends.”

Tommy: “I don’t want to be your friend! You’re annoying and I hate you and you’re ugly and you have a gray hair and I bet you twirl it round and use the dog filter--”

Wilbur: “You’re following me an awful lot for someone who doesn’t care.”

- Wilbur notices the Ranboo My Beloved poster on the wall. He remembers Ranboo as a good man. Tommy says he is, and that he sees potential in him.

- They call Ranboo so that Wilbur can properly meet him. Wilbur says he’s sorry to him. He wanted to get to know Ranboo better, ‘pick his brain.’ Ranboo never met Wilbur in person.

- What nation is Ranboo a part of, who does he align himself with? Ranboo says all of them -- he chooses people, not nations.

Wilbur: “Okay, so -- let’s go an say, so there must be someone bad on the server right, there’s gotta be a bad guy on the server and who --”

Ranboo: “Yeah. Dream, yeah.”

- Wilbur goes quiet for a moment. He then asks what Ranboo stands for. Ranboo says people.

Wilbur: “What ‘people?’ What people? You can’t just stand for people! People are good and bad!”

- Ranboo lists the people he sides with. There are quite a few.

Wilbur: “Everyone? Everyone but Dream, everyone but the one bad guy everyone’s supposed to hate.”

- Wilbur accuses Ranboo of being a “schmoozer.” Ranboo's philosophy is, if someone hasn’t wronged him or the people he cares about, he has no quarrel with them.

- Wilbur says that’s fine in a perfect world, but there are wars that get fought. Ranboo says the server’s been quiet ever since Dream was put in prison and there have been fewer wars since Wilbur died -- to which Wilbur asks if Ranboo is against him in the same way he’s against Dream.

- Wilbur says goodbye to Ranboo, saying that they might get to know each other better in time. Wilbur leaves with Tommy to continue the tour, telling him that Ranboo’s just a follower. 

- Tommy gets angry and tells Wilbur off for being a nuisance, for making him feel like a ghost when Wilbur should be the ghost. They decide to fight, with weapons but no armor. 

- They fight in the Holy Land and Tommy defeats him. Wilbur says, though, that he’s already won no matter what. No matter what happens next, he won when he pressed the button.

- He asks to see Phil. Phil sent him a whole backlog of letters, including ones about things Tommy can’t know about. 

- They arrive at the Arctic and Wilbur remembers this place, remembers finding Friend here. Wilbur reunites with Phil and Wilbur is thrilled by the cottages.

- Wilbur thanks Phil for killing him and tells him the whole bit of what would’ve happened if he’d been there instead of Ghostbur.

- Tommy tells Wilbur that what led to him getting exiled was griefing George’s house with Ranboo. Ranboo didn’t get exiled because Tommy stood up for him -- to which Wilbur asks if Ranboo didn’t stand up for Tommy, letting Tommy get thrown under the bus.

- Phil asks about the lies in the letters. Wilbur tells him that he’s not lying anymore, and he lied in the letters because it’s like writing back from a summer camp -- he didn’t want to tell Phil that everything was going horribly. 

- Wilbur’s made plans, and when they’re ready, Phil will be the first to know. He also asks Phil if he can stay with him for a bit, as he has no house. He also needs a shower.

- Phil agrees to let Wilbur stay despite Tommy protesting, and Wilbur and Tommy leave.

- Ranboo comes over to ask Phil how it went. Phil was skeptical, but it seems like Wilbur’s changed for the better, and that Wilbur spoke highly of Ranboo. As for Ranboo, he says it seems like Wilbur isn’t as bad as people said he was. 

- Phil talks about killing Wilbur and what Wilbur said about it.

- For Wilbur’s plan, he needs lots of stone. Wilbur leaves Tommy at the Nether Portal to go get stone and speak with Phil.

- Phil gives Tommy several stacks of stone. 

- Wilbur says he’ll be “back in the saddle” soon, that he can rebuild. He still doesn’t know how he was revived, but the first thing he saw when he got back was a chest.

- At the shrine, Wilbur opens the chest and reads the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book Quackity left for him. His old rival, his kinsman. 

Wilbur: “Chat, power isn’t won through diplomacy. Power isn’t won through waiting, patiently, floating courthouses in the sky, blah blah blah...it’s won through blades. Swords. Iron...”

“And I was right all along.”

- Tommy leaves Phil and Ranboo for a bit and they continue to talk about Wilbur, whether he’s changed, whether he’s even telling the truth about the afterlife and if even Dream can change.

- When Ranboo mentions that he may have to keep some secrets, Phil asks about the experiments. Ranboo reiterates that they’re just to build resistance, like when a wound heals over stronger. He assures Phil that he’ll be careful.

- Ranboo then leaves to go stand in a corner somewhere for a bit. He doesn’t sleep much, and if Phil ever sees him walking around staring at random things, it’s nothing to worry about

- Tommy goes mining for stone with Mediashare

- Captain Puffy works on the graveyard. She reads the Wiki page for Sally the Salmon and makes some horrible discoveries. She later finds out the Samsung Refrigerator has its own page as well and spends some time learning about the canon family tree.

- She then makes the gravestones and fills out the history books for each of the dead members, including a spot for Ghostbur behind Wilbur’s headstone with his final words.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[brookecuzyes]

three years of you. — tear myself apart

Damiano David x GN!Musician!Reader

Main Masterlist — 3yrs Masterlist

Summary: it’s only been a couple of days, which were full of tears and regret. however, that regret wasn’t on their part until a simple comment was made. (Part 3 of a series)

Word Count: ≈3.4k

Warnings: cursing, alcohol intake, angst (Anyone drinking alcohol in this chapter is of the legal drinking age in the United States, which is 21.)

A/N: thank y’all for reading! this has already gained a lot of readers and so i am happy about that. love you guys sm 💕 songs included in this fic are not mine. any characters mentioned are not mine, and belong to their respected owners. and ofc, i don’t own the celebrities either. i do check comments/reblogs, so please be respectful!!

———————————————————————-

You’ve got this, you can do it.

You tried consoling yourself. Normally, he would be here to help calm you down— or at least call if he could physically be there. He’d be there if you were about to have a panic attack, he’d be there to make sure that you were OK.

But you aren’t.

An entire audience full of strangers who listened to the songs, who listened to your heartbreak. Now, they get to watch your heart break live.

He wouldn’t— no, couldn’t— be there to comfort you. He couldn’t be there to tell you that everything will be fine. He fucked up, he’s the one who messed up that relationship…

“…then why did you show up?”

——

Glasses clinked. Chatter was taking place all around. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming.

You sat down at the booth with the whole band. Saturday had rolled around, which you hadn’t noticed since you were lost in an almost depressive state where time was non-existent. However, the karaoke bar definitely woke you up.

“Alright, guys,” Luke, the lead guitarist, said, holding a couple of drinks in his hands. “Tonight is the night! The tradition kicks in once again, and Monday we start recording. Let’s celebrate and relax.” Julie, the lead singer and the girlfriend of Luke, followed behind him, setting more drinks down on the table. Flynn, the unofficial manager of the band, let out a loud, “woo!”, making everyone laugh. All of you grabbed a glass and clinked them together, all taking a sip at the same time. Your face crunched when you processed the drink.

“Jesus, Luke, what is this?” you questioned.

“Alcohol,” he said blatantly.

“Yeah, no shit,” you shot back, shaking off the effects.

“I just said that we’re relaxing— that’s exactly what alcohol does!”

“Or maybe you're just an alcoholic?” Alex joked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t drink that much.” Luke defended.

“That’s what an alcoholic would say.” The whole band started laughing at the ongoing banter. It isn’t often when Alex made witty remarks like that, and everyone always enjoyed it when he did.

On another note, you felt as if you absolutely needed this drink. Given what’s been going on this last week, you felt like you deserved it. Though, you knew you’d regret this tomorrow. You knew Alex was keeping an eye out for you. The rest of the band didn’t know yet, they just knew that something happened, which is why you left Italy so early. They were all confused, but didn’t ask upon it when Alex glared daggers at them when they tried. So, thankfully, they did back off. But, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t concerned.

You had been talking, making it seem as if everything was fine, but Alex’s heart broke when he picked up on it. However, with the alcohol about to course through your veins, it would be harder from him to be able to pick up on whether you were drunk or going through it. Regardless, he was going to make sure that you were having fun and not thinking about your ex.

“Hey,” Flynn said, “why don’t we start the karaoke? I think we all have enough alcohol in our systems to do this.”

“I vote for Alex to go first!” You said, raising your hand. “Do Micheal Bublé.”

“Woah, hold up, I never even said-“

“It doesn’t matter. What I say goes. Now go.” He sighed, laughing as he stood up from the booth. He went over to the guy and told him what song he wanted to do. They got everything set up, and Alex got on stage.

“Let’s go, Alex!” You cheered on, making him smile and blush just a bit— though that wasn’t entirely visible from where you guys decided to sit.

The song started playing, and Alex started singing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the song but you figured it out.

“Oh, he’s singing Feeling Good. I love that song,” you whispered to Reginald, the bassist, who was sitting next to you. He looked to you over his shoulder, smiling. He hadn’t seen you so “out there” since you got back. It was nice to see you getting back to normal. Though, he didn’t actually know why you weren’t normal to begin with.

And I’m feeling… good.

You cheered Alex on again, dancing along to the beat with the whole band. Alex didn’t sing much, but when he did you cherished those moments. That’s why he songs Now or Never and Stand Tall on the band’s very first album are your favorite.

“God, I love his voice,” Reggie said, as if he read your mind.

“Yeah, and look at him,” you pointed out the way his body is moving with the music. The way he was just lost in a musical haze. It was enchanting. “That’s what his anxiety covers up.”

Alex soon finished, hopping off of the stage with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, babe,” you said, noticing his expression. “That was the best performance tonight by far. Not even Julie could compare to how amazing that was.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said, drawing out the ‘thanks’ in a sarcastic way. You raised your glass to her.

“Anytime, Jules,” you replied, raising your eyebrow and taking a sip. She laughed, letting the comment you made slip— for now at least.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Flynn exclaimed. “How about we take a couple photos and post them to our accounts? Y’know, to celebrate this very special moment.” Everyone collectively agreed. Pictures were taken left and right— and others were taken throughout the night, too— and each person had a different photo that they were each going to post. You had decided that you were going to post yours now, not wanting to forget later on tonight or tomorrow.

You captioned it:

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

It was perfect and you posted it, after letting everyone see it to make sure it was OK. Within minutes people already saw it and were liking and commenting. You made sure to turn your phone off before it started going crazy. Julie and Luke decided to go up and do a duet with each other. They choose Little Do You Know. Their voices were beautiful singing the song. They mashed just so perfectly. You recorded them, knowing that you would 100% show them this at their wedding. (They aren’t engaged, but it’s bound to happen sooner or later.)

You weren’t paying attention to the notifications spamming the top of your screen, though you did look back once to see if the camera was aligned with their bodies. That’s when you saw a specific notification. One thing that you absolutely forgot when you posted that photo was that Måneskin could still see your posts. The only reason you remembered was because Victoria responded to your post.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

The second you saw it, you put your head in your hands, mentally slapping yourself. If Victoria saw it, then the rest of the band is going to see, meaning Damiano would see it. Fuck, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” Alex asked, placing a hand on your arm. You looked up at him showing him the comment. “I don’t understand.”

“Victoria commented. Meaning Damiano’s probably gonna see it.”

“Not if he’s blocked.”

“I didn’t block him, we’re still mutuals.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Alex. Maybe I just haven’t gotten to it yet.” You realized the angered tone in your voice, not meaning to be rude to Alex. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, maybe if he does end up seeing it, he’ll just be jealous. Damiano will see everything he’s missing out on.”

“What is Damiano missing out on?” Julie asked, sitting back down with Luke.

“Oh, it’s nothing-“ Alex started, but you cut him off.

“I left Italy because Damiano was talking to another girl. It caused too many problems, so I left.” Everyone went silent. Everyone’s eyes softened at you, unsure of what to say.

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine. I’m here now. It doesn’t matter.” Silence fell once again, especially on Alex’s behalf. He knew you weren’t fine, he knew it mattered— whether you said it or not. “Sorry if I kinda killed tonight’s vibe.”

“N-No, you’re fine,” Reggie said. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, you didn’t ruin anything. I am glad that you told us, though. We’ve been worried.” Luke said, putting his arms on the table and leaning forward just a bit. You felt your phone vibrate but didn’t think anything of it— probably just another person on Instagram.

“Sorry that I made you guys worry. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It’s just been a hard couple of days. This shit isn’t easy,” you explained, mumbling the last part. Everyone stayed silent, none wanting to make something worse.

“Luke, why don’t you and the guys go grab some food?” Julie suggested, placing a hand on Luke’s back, turning her attention back to you.

“Oh, yeah. Guys, let’s go,” Luke said, getting the hint. The boys got up and left, each giving you a sympathetic look. The girls, on the other hand, all stayed behind.

“Alright, listen up,” Flynn started. “Tonight is not the night to mope around. You can do that tomorrow when you’re hungover.”

“Right now,” Julie jumped in, “you’re gonna forget about that asshole, get your ass out there, and sing your heart out, dammit!” Your eyes widened at the girls’ sternness. A smile started creeping from your lips, Julie and Flynn following behind you. Soon enough, the three of you started laughing your asses off.

“Ok, ok, I’m convinced. I’ll have fun tonight. Thanks,” you said, trying to shake off the laughter so you can speak. You grabbed your drink, taking a sip of it. It was the same drink Luke got you earlier. Damn it, Luke. You shook your head to shake off the kick the drink had. Flynn chuckled at your antics, taking a sip of her, not as strong, drink. The guys soon came back with some snack-type items in their hands.

“Are we all good now?” Alex asked, setting down the plate on the table and looking your way.

“Yep, we’re all good now,” Julie answered, taking a sip of her drink. You chuckle at her, reaching for some of the food on the table. “But, Y/N’s about to sing for us.”

“Woah, wait, now?”

“What did I say? You’re gonna sing your heart out.”

You groaned, slumping back in your set in a joking— yet, not entirely joking— way. “Julie, I didn’t realize that you meant right now.”

“Ok, so? Get up there, Y/N! C’mon it’ll be fun.” You contemplated. I should go, you thought, it could be fun.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you announced, getting up from your seat. Reggie and Flynn got up from theirs so you could get out. When you got up, you turned to Reginald.

“C’mon, you’re doing this with me,” you said, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the guy supervising the karaoke.

“I didn’t really wanna sing right now. Nerves, y’know?” Reggie explained.

“So? Reggie, I get that nerves are real, but there’s no way in hell I’m doing this alone.” You opened up a book full of songs, and was going through the selection.

“Why couldn’t you just get someone else?”

“Because I think our voices clash very well together.” You turned your head to him and gave him a smile. He shyly smiled back. You looked back at the book and held it up to Reggie. “What about this one?” you asked, pointing to a song. Reggie read it and smiled.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he said, grabbing the pen and marking off the song and writing your names. You stood back, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he turned around.

“Alright, I’ve got us down. Wanna head up?” He asked, holding his hand out with a playful smile.

“Let’s do it,” you said, grabbing a hold of his hand, him taking you up the stairs and into the stage.

When you walked up, you saw the screen in front of you turn on, switching to the lyrics of the song. The lights were bright, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. You saw some people stare at you, but it was mainly the rest of the band. Reginald walked to the microphone set up on the far left, you took the other. The song started playing, immediately relaxing you. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought. The song you chose was a favorite of you and Reggie— Meet Me At Our Spot. Of course, the band loved it too, but they got bored with it after a while since you two were always blasting it wherever you went. You actually had some inspiration from this song and wrote a little tune, but you had no lyrics at the moment.

When I wake up

I cant even stay up

I slept through the day, fuck

I’m not getting younger

——

“Victoria, you don’t understand-“

“No, you don’t understand, Damiano!” Victoria raised her voice at him. They never argued. They’ve known each other since childhood and nothing had ever caused an issue, except for this.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks to me that you broke your lovers heart.”

“Y/N left me,” he said, trying to reason.

“They might have physically left, but, Damiano, you were gone a long time ago.” She started towards the front door of his house, grabbing her keys.

“Where are you going?” Damiano asked.

“Home. But, let me tell you something first, Dami.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “It doesn’t matter how you try to defend yourself, you fucked up. You broke Y/N’s heart. You were talking to someone else. The damage is done. If you’re gonna try and get them back, you’re gonna have to try really damn hard. You want to get Y/N back, right?”

Silence followed. Victoria gave him a second to compose himself, but ultimately feared the worst. “Dami…”

“I mean, yeah, but-“

“No buts. You shouldn’t be saying ‘but’, you have no reason to.” Damiano just looked at her. “Wow… unbelievable.” Victoria opened the door and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Damiano walked up to the door and locked it. He headed back to the living room and heard his phone ding. He picked it up and saw that you had posted a photo.

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

He sighed. He unlocked his phone, and went to go see the photo you posted. You looked nice. Happy. What was the tradition again?

Right, karaoke. The weekend before the band records an album, everyone goes to a karaoke bar. He scrolled down a bit and saw a comment. He saw Victoria’s comment.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

He figured that she saw the post before she pulled out of his driveway. He debated on what he should do.

Yeah, he fucked up. But, it really wasn’t that bad. It’s not like he cheated. It was just talking. He wanted to tell you that you look great, but wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. Like Y/N would care what I think, he thought to himself. You never broke up, though. Plus, he needs to know what’s going on, how you’re doing. He’s concerned. Couldn’t be the worst thing— it’s not like the internet knows yet.

Ok, I’ll just just comment.

——

Caught a vibe

Baby, are you coming for the ride

I just wanna look into your eyes

I just wanna stay for the night, night, night

You and Reginald were jamming out to the song, as per usual. Everyone was loving it, even the rest of the band. It was the most fun you’ve had in a hot second.

When we take a drive

Maybe we can take the 405

Hypnotized by the light

Man, this must be the life

As the song ended, everyone cheered you two on. You went over and hugged Reggie on his side, him giving a small hug back. You guys walked back to your booth, the whole band full of excitement. Alex got up from his seat and let the two of you in, you sitting in the corner of the booth.

“That was amazing!” Luke exclaimed.

“Thanks, we had fun,” Reggie said, practically reading your mind.

“Definitely.”

“Your voices go so well together,” Flynn remarked.

“That’s exactly what I said!” you said, hitting Reginald’s shoulder so he knows your point is proven.

“Ok, we don’t have to be violent about it,” he joked, smirking just a bit.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go to the restroom real quick. I’ll be back,” you said, waiting for Alex and Reggie to stand up so you can go. You grabbed your phone, stood up, and made your way to the restroom. When you got to the restroom, you went to one of the stalls but checked your phone before you did anything else. However, you almost immediately regretted it because you saw that Damiano had commented on your photo.

What the hell does he want?

You read what he had commented, and, honestly, you wanted to laugh.

You look great tonight, as you do every night, amore

You couldn’t believe it. Amore, really? you thought to yourself. You looked up from your phone, looking at the stall door. You contemplated what to do next:

For starters, keeping the comment wouldn’t be out of the norm for your followers. They knew about you and Damiano. However, if you deleted (which you really wanted to do), everyone would notice. People would speculate. Or, you could just go off on Damiano privately. That would be too harsh. But, this is your account— your decision. Do you want to have your cheater boyfriend compliment you the way he did?

You know what, do it later, you thought, turning off your phone and finally, actually, using the restroom.

Once you finished, you exited the stall and walked over to the sinks. You washed your hands, not able to get that damn comment off of your mind.

You walked out of the restroom and back over to the booth, but you didn’t sit down.

“Alex,” you said, standing next to him. “Can I talk to you?” He looked up at you, unsure of what you wanted to talk about, but got up anyway. You grabbed his hand and pulled him outside.

When you two got out there, you sat down on a bench, Alex following your move.

“Is everything alright?” You opened your phone and went to Instagram, showing Alex to comment Damiano left. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what to do, and it is tearing me apart. Do I delete it? Do I keep it? Do I argue with him?”

“Delete the comment, and, Y/N, please, block him on social media. You don’t have to block his number, but you should block him everywhere else.”

“Why not his number,” you asked.

“Because you need closure. At some point, you’re gonna want to text him or call him and try to get some understanding as to why he did what he did. You haven’t actually broken up yet. Maybe that’s how you finish off?”

After a moment of contemplation (again), you nodded your head slowly.

“Ok. Yeah, ok, I’ll do that.” You lowered your head and searched through your following to find Damiano’s account. You clicked the three dots at the top, and looked for the block button.

“You sure this is the right thing to do?”

“Yes. Want me to do it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can do it.”

You looked at the button for a second. You’ve never even thought of blocking him before. I’m your mind, he was the one. Now? Well, you’re blocking him because he cheated on you, so obviously your idea of him completely shifted.

I can do this.

Your hands started shaking slightly, your heart was beating like crazy.

I can do this.

Slowly, you moved your finger over the button.

Click it, it’ll be fine.

And, so, you did. You clicked the button.

You felt free.

———————————————————————-

Taglist for 3yrs — i’m so sorry if i couldn’t tag you!*

@mywritingonlyfans @nientedaridere @pingpongchamps @fairysums @kkjk @blackbluerose666 @thatmeganthing @teenyweenynightghost @ccweasley @lilchickie @katyldamusic @fanfictioncafe @tiaamberxx @butkutee @aboredassho @story-scribbler

*(for those who want to be tagged, please have stuff posted onto your blog and make sure that your blog isn’t censored <3)

[anarchy2021]

PSA Day! (Rp etiquette)

{ID: A person standing next to a flipchart. They're thin, and have medium-length brown hair, pale skin, and dark brown ears. The ears are angled horizontally. They're wearing thin-rimmed glasses, and their expression reads as confident. Their hair is partially tied up in a bun. They also have a long tail the same brown as their ears, with brown fur the same color as their hair on the end. They're wearing black trousers, a black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath. Additionally, a black overcoat with gold edges is draped over their shoulders. The inner lining of the overcoat is red, and partially visible behind the person. They have their right hand on their hip, and with their left hand, they're holding a stick up to the flipchart, which reads "RP 101 :)". The 101 is underlined. END ID.}

Greetings! You may not recognize me (unless you were watching the debate perhaps, then, sup) as I admit I’ve been a bit…. Behind the scenes as it were (as secretary of VOID there is a lot of looking at the void, usual routine for me mhm mhm). Regardless, I’m Days (or Nights, either or) and for today’s PSA I’m here (along with some words from our recently freed from totally-not-prison president, Graphite, at a later date) to talk to you about roleplay! More specifically, rp etiquette and terms and how that relates to the DSMP and how it should be talked about. 

Now now, you might be wondering “oh but what is your experience?” Glad you asked! I’m a long term text rper with over 5 years of experience- and my main avenues of rp are rps similar in structure to that of the DSMP- long term improv driven sandboxes that also have important events planned ahead of time in some regard but are often player driven most of the time. Now, let’s get into it!

Head writers/admins

Let’s start off with a pretty hot topic regarding the server, which is the existence of a ‘head writer’ (usually in reference to Mr. Soot). Now, mainy take this as meaning quite literally a writer- like in a show, but, with what information we have I think it’s safe to say he’s not really that and more along the lines of an rp admin/head. The admin’s main purpose is to keep things structured and organized, as well as putting together the events they’re in charge of. This is pretty much how everyone treats the man anyways, BUT, while an admin is in charge of a lot they do NOT have the final say over everything, particularly in regards to the characters and their players. 

Players in an rp for the most part have full control over their characters (within reason and the confines of the rp setting) and an admin enforcing their will onto a character (such as enforcing certain backstory choices that don’t seem particularly wanted. For example, the fridge with c!Phil) is often frowned upon unless there is a good reason for it and discussed with the rper. 

It is also notable that just because there is an admin, that doesn’t mean they’re the sole writer/organizer/etc. It is not at all uncommon for specific subplots and or other important events to be headed by players involved in it in this type of rp. This can be seen in practice with how the Eggpire plotline was headed by BBH and the prison plotline was mainly written by Dream and Tommy. 

Summary:

- head writer/admins do not and should not control everything

- organise and structure events

- players might admin their own smaller plots within a rp

Narrative consequences

Now, another hot topic- especially in regards to character discourse (my abhorred personally). Narrative consequences. These are generally referred to when someone thinks a character is not getting the consequences for their actions in the story that they should, or (more rarely in my experience) when they feel a character is being punished too hard for their actions. While this is an understandable feeling to have, at the end of the day narrative consequences just aren’t much of a thing in roleplay, at least not to the same extent as a book or tv show. 

This is for one simple reason, consequences rely on the character’s actions and how they respond to others around them, if a character does not feel like it’s fit to react or if it angers their character- it is 100% within their right to respond accordingly. 

However, there is also an argument that can be made if a character responds to something in a way that doesn’t align with a character’s usual actions. For a personal example, one time in a rp I was playing a character who was intervening when another character was being hurt, however, my character was met with scorn from being somewhat aggressive regarding it- I felt that this was unfair as none of these character showed the same scrutiny to characters who did worse things, and none of these characters had been established as hypocrites. 

This grudge lasted the entire rp until my character died. This is a point where believing that the consequences to a character are unjust is more or less fair, but, a character simply not getting immediately smited or a character getting scorn is not automatically a point against the character, especially since an rper cannot reasonably make their fellow rpers react a certain way.  

Summary:

- narrative consequences are not the same in RP as in other mediums

- can't force characters to react, or force players to react in a way they don't feel is fit

- but can critique RP if things feel unfairly ooc/inconsistent

Retcons

Next up, retcons. What is a retcon? It’s short for retroactive continuity, in essence it’s when in a piece of media something is changed retroactively- such as a character’s personality, how an event occurred, etc. for an outsider audience perspective retcons are often looked upon unfavorably, as it’s changing something already established which can cause friction among those attached to certain ideas, but in reality retcons are both a neutral concept and fairly normal to occur in rps. 

Rps are (generally) not professional writing, they’re things made up on the fly with perhaps a base to work off of (and depending on the rp, not even that. However in the rps I’ve done we generally had character sheets and the like for backstories and all) and thus sometimes mistakes happen. One of the main causes for minor retcons is when details are confused or left out that would have realistically affected the situation or how characters would have responded to it, unless in severe cases these usually happen on the spot and don’t cause much of a fuss. 

Major retcons often fall along the lines of players and how they choose to present their character. This is especially common when a player is using a character for the first time or even if they’re just new to an rp in general, sometimes as we rp we simply decide to take things in a new direction and sometimes that direction may cause things already established to be retconned, even if not outright stated. 

A good example of this is the enderwalk with c!Ranboo, the enderwalk as it was first introduced is very different than it is portrayed now, likely as a result of Ranboo taking a new direction with his character since then. More widespread retcons may happen if people are unhappy with a certain plot thread, in this case an example would be the canon status of SBI, Wilbur used to push it but Techno (and later Phil) didn’t want it to be canon, so anything about it previously said has been soundly retconned. 

In my own case character retcons very often happen to me when I first use an oc, as the character takes a different shape than what I put on the paper in practice, even sometimes within the same rp (one of my first ocs was practically unrecognizable as the same character in the beginning of an rp as compared to even just a few weeks later).

So, retcons are fine and normal to occur, but, like I said- they’re neutral. A retcon can very well be done poorly and cause problems. This is mainly in issue with retcons made that affect highly established and built upon aspects without discussion with all those who’d be effected, this can cause confusion, plot holes and cause characters to be in a weird limbo if they don’t know how to have their character act without whatever was retconned. Major retcons need to be discussed in order to prevent these problems, and in some cases should be avoided entirely- instead it being better to work for a compromise and rework events rather than removing them. 

Summary:

- retcons are normal and neutral

- small retcons happened frequently in RP to help keep things going in an improv heavy medium. Usually unnoticeable

- large retcons tend to have with new players, or if the story is taking a new direction.

- large retcons require a lot of communication, and sometimes whould be avoided, instead working to compromise and rework the direction of the RP

Metagaming and godmodding

Metagaming and godmodding are two very important terms to know for rp etiquette and if you’ve done any rping you’ve probably seen these words thrown around in rules lists and such already. These are both ultimately negative things that should be avoided at all costs. What are they? Metagaming is when you use information that you know OOC and use it IC even though your character should not have that information. Godmodding is when a character is taken over by another person for one reason or another against the player’s will- such as having a character react to something without letting the actual rper do it. 

The former is a big issue when it comes to discussion of the DSMP and how people interact with it, mainly in the chat and donos. When you are trying to get a character to react to information that they shouldn’t have you are trying to get them to metagame, which is heavily frowned upon in an RP. This is also important to note in discussion, a character not responding to certain important events is not a mark against them if the character has no way of even knowing what was going on, or would not reasonably respond to it with the information they have. 

Summary:

- both frowned upon

- god modding is taking over someone elses character

- metagaming is using out of character information to do in character acting

- Meta gaming is relevant to DSMP particular in how it relates to donos and chats. Don't encourage meta-gaming

All of these factors are important to consider when discussing the DSMP and it’s narrative, it’s not going to function the same as other forms of media nor should it- as once you go in that direction you’re competing with the big boys over at tv and at that point things would fall apart. Improv and it’s unique variables is what makes the DSMP, and anything else like it, special and interesting to follow!

[omniscientwreck]

Hi🖤 Omni! If you're looking for a fic request I've got one.

Okay so Essek is Feeblminded by remaining Volstrucker at his tower. Verin came to visit later that day and has been taling care of Essek, as they both would be scared of the Umavi's wrath should someone find out.

Well Caleb comes to visit a few day's later and Certainly gets a surprise.

Fluff ensues.

I'm talking the Unicorn from Despicable Me level Fluffy😁😁😁

Hi Umbra! Sorry I'm incredibly late answering this, life is weird but I hope the length makes up for it! I know I said drabble but like this just turned into a whole fic so I hope you enjoy!

Verin had worried when Essek’s door hadn’t opened of its own accord, usually he knows when he’s arrived. Deciding something was certainly wrong he barges his way into his brother’s tower. He finds it silent which is normal but unnerving and the unnatural stillness as he calls for Essek has his hackles up.

His knuckles pale as he grips the hilt of his sword and searches methodically throughout the tower. Finding the main floor empty he heads up the stairs to the library. There’s a shuffle, a falling book, a whimper. He draws his sword, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The door is ajar and he can hear shuffling. He thrusts it open is momentarily relieved to see his brother. His hair is tousled and white is stained with flecks of red, his robes are torn and his mantle is askew.

He’s never seen him like this before and his heart lurches. Surprise and fear are plastered across his features, far more freely than Verin’s ever seen him feel. He doesn’t talk and he seems to not even recognize him. Checking the rest of the room, the sword is returned to its sheath and Verin crouches, reaching a hand to Essek.

“Brother, what happened?” Silence, a whimper. “Essek? What’s wrong? It’s Verin, your brother.” His brows unknot, and the tension in his jaw slackens. There’s a looseness to his demeanor and as he stands he waves his hand as if to float, but nothing happens. He tries again and again. The first try was decisive, after watching him for so long Verin knows what it looks like when he casts it. The second time it’s not quite right, the third time it gets looser still. By the time Verin has stopped counting and Verin has grabbed Essek’s hands to calm him it seemed like Essek didn’t know what he was attempting to do.

“Is this some kind of spell? What happened?” His brother looks up with the face of a stranger. His eyes are open and sad, his ears fall just a touch and Essek leans in to hug Verin. He’s never wanted to do that before.

Verin hugs him back. “Oh Essie, what are we going to do?”

Caleb approaches Essek’s tower and is struck by immediate concern when the door doesn’t open for him. Essek always lets him in when he arrives, and with everything that’s happened he immediately panics. Caleb tries to tell himself Essek must be busy and has missed him tripping the wards. So, he lifts the knocker and gives the door a few raps.

He’d asked Caleb to meet him here to assist in the transport of his most important items after their trip to Aeor. He needs to run, he knows it and Caleb knows that turning himself in to the Dynasty would mean certain death so he’s agreed to help. No amount of good will from the Bright Queen would let them bargain for his favour. Selfishly, Caleb won’t allow him to get caught, so he will harbor Essek for some time, helping him stay out of the eyes of the Dynasty.

Eventually he knocks again, beginning to hold a firebolt just in case. “Uh, just a minute,” calls a stranger’s voice from behind the wood. “I’ll be right there.”

The door opens just a crack, “Who is it?”

“I am Caleb Widogast of the Mighty Nein, who is this?” His hand is up and encircled in flame.

“Oh thank the Light, one moment.” Whoever he is, he’s clearly relieved. Caleb’s firebolt stays held.

As the door opens Caleb is greeted by a tall drow, muscular with long braided back hair. He looks familiar but Caleb cannot place him. His features are slowly fading into relief from what must have been a deep concern. “Hello Caleb Widogast, I am Verin Thelyss and I am so glad you’re here. Your the wizard yes?”

Nodding, bewildered as he’s being dragged into Essek’s home by his brother, Caleb can hardly remember to respond, “Uh ja, that’s me. Where is Essek?”

“Well so I came by a few days ago and he didn’t let me into the tower which was weird. There have been some rumors going around and when our mother said he was back I had to ask. I don’t know if you know but… well it’s bad.”

He’s leading him upstairs as he explains and the back of Caleb’s neck is on fire. Verin doesn’t know, but there are rumors that are most likely true. Is he too late?

“So, I’m hoping since you also practice the arcane you might know what’s happened here and how to solve it.”

He leads Caleb into the library and Essek is seated on a chair idly flipping through a book far too quickly. It doesn’t even look like he’s reading, Caleb knows what he looks like when he’s reading. The quiet concentration and the tension it brings his jaw is completely missing. When Essek looks up at him there’s recognition but no words and when he rises to make his way to Caleb, he walks.

He’s wide-eyed and has a sweet smile across his face, it’s difficult to look away but if he doesn’t the heat rising in his cheeks will show. “Essek, what is it mein Freunde?”

No words. Why can’t he talk and why isn’t he floating?

“Essek?” A gentle hand reaches up to rest on his cheek and the heat takes over at the abrupt contact. Especially with Verin standing over his shoulder observing them. “Verin how long has he been like this?”

“About 2 days. I didn’t really know what had happened and if the Umavi found out well… I’m unsure what she would do.” Verin is a little more easier to map out than Essek had been initially and he’s been told enough stories about Dierta to understand the undercurrent of Verin’s words.

“Ja, I understand.” Verin starts at that and Caleb just continues past it, “I believe he has been affected by the spell Feeblemind. I - ah - have experience with this kind of thing. We have friends that can cure him but I will have to contact them, which I will not be able to do until tomorrow.”

Essek’s hand has wound its way into Caleb’s and he tries and fails miserably to contain the blush that he knows is spreading to his ears. Memories of little touches in Aeor flood back and Caleb pushes away thoughts of conversations he’d promised they’d have later, after Essek was safe. To call to attention this thing between them and get it out in the open before it drives him mad. Even if Essek’s feelings do not align with his it will be better to have it in the open.

“So this isn’t hurting him?”

Caleb turns to Essek, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He remembers a blur of time, when his mind had failed him. He remembers terror, looking down at his hands and not knowing whose they were. He didn’t have an anchor, nothing but his own thoughts, with someone there it might be different. Essek can’t understand him but the tone of voice seems to elicit some positive emotions and Essek squeezes his hand, a contented smile across his face, “He seems alright to me. It is unpleasant to be cut off from your casting, but he isn’t in pain and he isn’t alone.” It’s difficult to mitigate the emotion bleeding into his voice.

He pushes down memories of the years he’d been locked away and squeezes Essek’s hand back, reassuringly. “Have you gotten him to eat?”

Verin nods, “Occasionally. Probably not as much as he needs. I’m not exactly an excellent cook and nobody can see him like this so I’ve sent his staff away.”

“Alright, well I’ll just do this then.” he begins casting the tower, “I understand if you want to stay but if you need to go I can care for him.” he wants Verin to leave, he wants him gone so badly, to just take care of Essek properly without the shadow of somebody who doesn’t know hanging over them.

“I should be back to Bazzoxan soon. They’ll begin asking after me.” Caleb finishes casting the tower and leads Essek in. Just before he enters, Verin stops him, “You mean something to each other. I’ve never seen him act this way before, granted there’s an arcane influence but genuinely he has never smiled like he did when he saw you. I trust you with this because I think he would. Do not betray that.”

Caleb nods, “Of course not. We’ve faced the most difficult challenges of my life together and with our friends. I will care for him.” Verin seems satisfied with that and makes to leave, and Caleb enters the tower to find Essek waiting in the centre of the tower. He has an idea of where he wants to go. As the tower door closes behind Verin, he and Essek begin to drift upwards. Essek opens his mouth as if to reflexively murmur ‘up’ as had become their custom in their long travels together and his brows knot in distress, as if he’s realized again that his voice will not come. Caleb reaches for his hand, to comfort him and says it for them both, to which Essek smiles.

The drow releases Caleb’s hand and begins to swirl around, never leaving the central column and Caleb is forced to mirror his motions lest they collide. He flashes back to a moment of levity when they’d first come to Aeor. They had showboated then, dancing around each other as their works often did. This Essek is less restrained and his eyes and nose crinkle into a genuine smile when Caleb joins his frivolity.

They stop at the ninth floor which Caleb had known to be Esseks’ destination and immediately Essek lays on the pillows he always places in the corner. Usually, on their research expedition, he tranced in his room but on particularly emotional days they both preferred an expanse of stars above them as they rested. It became tradition and over time they’d drifted closer and closer together, until they would sometimes come to consciousness to find that through the night Essek had curled into Caleb’s side or that their hands had wound together unknowingly.

Now, Essek’s eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open in wonder as though it’s his first time seeing it all over again. Caleb stands over him, following his gaze up to the idly shifting starscape above. Caleb is quickly distracted by the versions of them that traverse different paths. Sometimes in each other’s company, other times in solitude. In a few they hold hands or make contact at the shoulders. Those are the ones he likes the most.

When his gaze is pulled back downwards, Essek stares up at him with a tenderness that quickly turns to expectation. He’s arranged burgundy cushions across the floor beside him for Caleb and so he obliges. As he stretches out across the crude bed slender, cool fingers interlock his own and he lays back and tells Essek of the constellations he’s hidden among the stars.

When Caleb himself was in this state he remembered lacking familiarity. Nothing around him made sense and the upheaval of his life only moments prior had only amplified the disorientation of the magic that kept him prisoner for 11 years.

Essek has someone to watch over him, he’s in a place that evidently brings him much joy and in recent months he’s found himself halfway to peace. Caleb finds his heart swell at the idea of making this experience bearable.

The silence was always the worst so he points to guide the elf’s eyes as he tells them the stories behind each constellation. He tells him of Nila, gentle and fierce. Of Twiggy, ever optimistic and wholly delightful. He tells him about Reani who Essek has spent some time with. Brief recognition flashes across his face, though it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Caleb remembers. He remembers knowing that someone was there who he should recognize but not having the words to know he had forgotten their name. He was in terror and treated everyone as a threat. Essek treats everything with wonder and discovery. The innocence is sweet and a syrupy feeling pools in Caleb’s throat as he’s again confronted with the way his heart swells when Essek looks at Caleb with that same contented smile.

He scoots closer and this is entirely too much. The idea that this version of Essek may curl into his side willingly, while they were fully conscious where the other version cannot unsettles him. Instead he stands, offering his hand, “Why don’t we get you something to eat ja?” There’s a momentary droop of his ears, much more pronounced than any movement he’d seen before before he lifts Essek and they go down to the dining room.

If there is to be anything significant between them it cannot be spurred under these circumstances. Caleb has to know he means it. As they wait while he cats prepare what had become their usual fare while traversing Aeor, he defaults to telling stories. First he tells him of the tunnels they traversed to reach the Dynasty, crafting an illusion as well as he can of the crystalline caves they made camp in. Food arrives and he continues weaving story and image as Essek picks at the well spiced soup comprised mainly of squash and potato. As he crafts an illusion of the dragon turtle they’d fought just after the peace talks out of amber and morphs its shape to a smaller turtle and then a sea slug, laughing to himself at the absurdity, he notices the clink of Essek’s spoon has long subsided.

Glancing over electric eyes focus on him instead of the illusion, so he drops it. “Ah, Es tut mir Leid, I know I tend to get carried away.” A little contented noise bubbles from Essek’s throat and his heart squeezes. In a desperate attempt to try and get Essek to eat more he turns back to his own soup and looks expectantly over to his friend.

Giving him a look of exasperation, he mirrors Caleb and eats most of the soup. Caleb rips up bread and encourages him to dip it in what’s left of the soup and finally, the bowl is empty. They leave the cats to clean up and Essek’s hand grasps Caleb’s again and squeezes. He knows he shouldn’t draw conclusions or let himself be taken by these gestures that the man wouldn’t make if he’d had the presence of mind, but it’s turning into a losing game.

With the time spent on the ninth floor and the prolonged battle of coaxing Essek to eat they only have a few hours until sleep. Essek takes his customary seat on the couch in the study and Caleb withdraws some of the lighter fiction that now populates the shelves. Lying back on the sofa, feet resting on the armrest, head by Essek he holds up the copy of Der Katzenprinz to show the illustrations. “You seem to like hearing me talk so why don’t I share this with you? Either way you won’t understand what I say so I will read it to you as it was originally intended.”

He begins, in Zemnian to tell him the fairy story that had brought him so much joy as a child, and the cats bring them hot chocolate as instructed. Warm mug in hand, Essek sits patiently through the story and as it turns to a close, picks up another of the books Caleb has gathered and thrusts it upon his chest. A real laugh bubbles up at that and he obliges.

As the night winds on and the mugs are emptied, Essek’s hand winds its way through Caleb’s hair, gently combing. When he looks up at Essek he’s met with soft, drooping eyes and a plain smile laced with nothing but care. He tries to stop Essek over the course of the book but finds that the drow always goes back to his hair so eventually, he leaves it. When Essek’s breaths even and elongate and he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, Caleb sends him to trance.

He’s met with a slightly mournful look as Essek settles into the cushions he’s provided for trancing, but Caleb squeezes his shoulder, “If something goes wrong the cats will know to come get me. This is for the best.” Looking not at all reassured, but staying in place, Essek lets him leave without protest.

In the middle of sleep, dreamless and warm, there’s pressure. Then a caterwaul cuts through his subconscious followed by several more. He awakes with a start and immediately the cats gather around his feet as he pulls on slippers. They lead him to Essek’s room, where through the closed doors he can hear the sounds of furniture being disturbed.

Barging in, heart pounding, he finds Essek with tears streaming down his face. “Essek Schatz what’s wrong?” He kneels, abandoning any sense of propriety or boundaries and as he collapses into Caleb’s arms with nearly silent sobs he’s struck by how small the other man is.

“It’s alright Essek, whatever it was it cannot hurt you. I will keep you safe as you have done me.” They’ve never talked about the nights when the cats would do the same to Essek as they’d done to Caleb. When he’d been awoken from nightmares with angry red scratches down his forearms and a friend to bandage them. They’ve never quite discussed the comfort in Essek trancing just beside Caleb’s bed on difficult nights and he’s tried to stifle contemplation about the safety the man brings to his subconscious. The timing wasn’t right and despite his own longing he couldn’t make that step towards Essek. Not then.

Now, however, the elf shudders in his arms and he brings him into his lap, lighting soft amber globules of light to examine Essek. When he finds no physical harm he puts them out again and draws him in tighter as Essek clutches at the sides of his nightshirt and curls into his chest. He sings gentle lullabies his mother had once used to soothe him, voice cracking slightly as he flexes it in a long forgotten way. Eventually the shaking stops and breath becomes more solid, but hands stay grasped into his shirt so, with assistance from the cats, he maneuvers them into an easier sleeping position. Ever determined, Essek stays in his arms the whole time and when he tries to encourage him to trance beside him, arms wind around his waist.

“Okay, okay. If this will help.” Caleb resigns himself to creaky joints the next morning and sleeps with Essek in his arms, pushing away any indulgent thoughts of future nights spent with him in the same orientation.

When he awakes Essek is gone from his lap, though their fingers are laced and his head rests atop the drow’s on his shoulder. “Guten Morgen Essek.” He startles and smiles over at Caleb. Open, honest, vulnerable. They need to fix this. “I just need to prepare and then we will see Jester ja?” He receives a blank stare in return and nods to himself. “I will be back in a few moments and then we will go to Nicodranas. Just wait here.” He leaves and dresses quickly, returning to find Essek essentially where he’d been left. He takes a moment to glance over his spellbook and concentrates as he casts Sending, “Hallo Jester, I need your assistance with a pretty big restoration. Can you help today?”

She sounds half-asleep as she responds, “Caleb? Oh hi! Yeah I can help, just come to mama’s, we’re in Nicodranas. Oh my gosh I have to tell you, the dragon turtle-” her word economy same as ever.

“Okay Essek, Jester can help. I don’t know where you kept your parasol but I’m sure she can make you another.” With that they head out the door and Caleb transports them safely to the Lavish Chateau. Essek’s hand never leaves his.

Upon arrival they’re beset by a shouted greeting and Jester crushes Caleb in a hug before even realizing the other man is there. “Ohmigod Essek hi! I missed you!” Instead of awkwardly patting her back as he usually does, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in. “Hey Caleb, what’s going on with Essek?”

She pulls back and sees his broad smile and dancing eyes and looks at Caleb distinctly concerned. “Ah- I’m afraid he is a victim of the Feeblemind spell. It’s what they used against me in… well.” Her face clouds with understanding. “He’s okay physically though, whoever attacked him clearly just needed him out of the way. If you can use Greater Restoration that will undo the effects. He’s been ah - rather clingy.”

She waggles her eyebrows at him, making suggestive noise, and gets out the required diamond dust, sprinkling it delicately over Essek who watches in wonder. She puts both hands on her shoulders and green radiant energy emanates from her and passes to him. Before long he’s shaking his head and stepping back, voice hoarse from disuse, “Where- Jester? Thank you oh my gods thank you.”

She grins back at him, “I’m glad you’re back Essek! It’s a good thing Caleb brought you here you were acting so weird-”

She’s cut off as he chokes out, “Caleb.” and looks over with a deep violet flush and wide, apologetic eyes. “I ah- I am sorry for putting you through that. I-”

“Nein, do not apologize. Maybe we should get back to your tower to try and piece together who did this to you and what they were after ja?’

Essek nods and casts his levitation cantrip, shoulders sagging with relief when it works. “Yes, of course. Thank you Jester, I’m sorry we can’t stay but-”

She hugs the both of them again, “It’s okay, you have lots to talk about probably I don’t know bye!” she gives Caleb a wink as he begins casting the spell again and to his surprise Essek’s hand winds itself in his as they vanish.

They’re back in the tower and Caleb looks down, Essek’s hand still in his. Essek drops it and there’s a flush set deep into his cheeks and it spreads to his cheeks as their eyes meet. “Caleb I-” he swallows “I remember most of what happened, though not very clearly. I um-” his eyes are downcast and Caleb braces for what he believes to be coming, “Thank you for your patience. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable it is very difficult to explain but I think you’re aware of the feeling. I didn’t exactly have my full faculties and I fear I broke boundaries that may have encroached too far on your hospitality and our friendship.”

It’s difficult to see him so apologetic for the affection displayed. This thing between them has gone unspoken quite too long and before he realizes it he’s speaking, “Don’t apologize for that Schatz, I ah- I didn’t mind. There’s something I think we ought to discuss fairly plainly because I do not want to mince words about the way I feel anymore, it’s tiring.”

Essek looks up to meet him, steeling himself and as Caleb is about to speak he cuts him off, “I am aware enough of how I acted to realize I cannot properly hide my feelings further.” He takes a deep breath, the back of Caleb’s neck is burning and time has all but frozen, “I care deeply for you Caleb. It is difficult to bring myself to those words for I know this is the last thing I deserve but here I am, a fool for you. I know that there were moments in Aeor, I hold them close to my heart as precious things in a life of solitude. If you do not do the same, if you do not feel the same I will remain your friend if you’ll allow it, your research partner, anything. But-” he looks down almost sheepishly, “I owe it to you to be forthright and so I will tell you that if you’ll have me, I would very much like to see where this takes us.”

A smile breaks across Caleb’s face as their eyes meet, “May I kiss you?”

Essek draws in a sharp breath, eyes wide, and nods. It takes Caleb only a moment to close the gap, hands sliding around Essek’s waist and over the back of his neck as he leads them together. Essek’s hands hold his shoulders and his eyes flutter closed as their lips meet, electricity and heat mixing. When they finally pull back they’re both flushed. Essek lets out a huff of a laugh and Caleb wraps him tightly as he brings him in again, smiling into another kiss.

[retrievablememories]

the weekend | jaehyun (m)

title: the weekend pairing: jaehyun x black makeup artist!reader genre: fluff, smut request: “I love the Jaehyun x Stylist scenario can there be a part 2 where it’s like steamy and they are dating in secret with that Noona ana younger guy vibe???👀👀💞💞💞💓” and “Hiya this is the anon asking for a part 2 of Jaehyun and the makeup artist a first date with a little smut thrown in if you are feeling it. Whatever you come up with I'll read and more than likely love it💖💖💖😘😘😘” word count: 4k warnings: car sex, public sex, doggystyle, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex—don’t try at home 🔞 a/n: this is the sequel to style. i think it’s been more than a month since this request was sent in, y’all can throw sticks and stones at me now 💀 this fic is “set” after the release of final round, but let’s pretend it’s actually like november rather than july/august

Even though you and Jaehyun have been together for a few months now, today marks your first date.

All of your “dates” so far have consisted of video chats, phone calls, and text messages—and the occasional sexting session, of course. There’s no denying that you love talking to Jaehyun and hearing his voice over the phone, but you haven’t been able to do much else other than that, which could wear anybody thin.

Whenever you work with him on set, you have to play the part of makeup artist Noona who does nothing more than joke playfully with her client and treat him like a silly younger brother. It’s cute and fun for a while—you are grateful for the time to be around him, no matter how it comes—but you can’t pretend like you don’t want more. Maybe not the full experience of “going public,” but at least being able to be boyfriend and girlfriend around the other staff without it being a huge deal.

Jaehyun, in all his sneakiness, has managed to wrangle you into a supply closet or abandoned practice room a time or two, but there has never been time for anything other than a few stolen kisses. Between your endless assignments for NCT and other SM groups and his comeback activities, you’ve been operating on borrowed time.

But with promotions for The Final Round being long over and your schedule having finally slowed down, now is the time.

At this point, there’s so much tension built up between you that you’re almost afraid either one of you will spontaneously combust if you stay in the same space for long enough. The other boys have noticed and tease Jaehyun about it; even Jungwoo has snitched to you that Jaehyun has moaned your name in his sleep more than a few times.

Even though you’re going out today as an actual couple, you both still have to wear disguises. Lowkey, you’ve never really seen the point of these things; fans can always spot their favorite idols from miles away, but it’s probably better to be safe than sorry. You don’t really know what to expect, but you’re anticipating the date either way, excited to finally get together outside of work.

Jaehyun comes to pick you up that afternoon, and you look out the window to confirm his appearance when he texts you he’s outside. When you go to meet him, your nerves are alight.

You chuck your hat into your lap and pull your mask down when you get inside the car. “Ugh, I don’t like wearing that shit on my head. How are yo—” You’re interrupted when Jaehyun leans over the center console and kisses you full on the lips. For a second you laugh against his mouth at his eagerness, but you let yourself succumb to the kiss.

When he pulls away, it’s clearly reluctant, but he looks at you with his face pink and an overly eager grin on his face. “Sorry, we probably shouldn’t do that out there…” He glances around the apartment complex, but no one is there but you two, and his face betrays the lack of regret he actually feels.

“I don’t mind,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you’re feeling quite the opposite. You’re way too taken in with his dimples and his cute and playful demeanor, and it’s moments like these that make you realize that, despite being his makeup artist, you much prefer his bare face to any of the work you’ve done.

Jaehyun pulls out of the parking lot and you settle into the seat. “Aren’t you glad we finally get to hang out like a normal couple?” His excitement is almost palpable as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel to an erratic rhythm.

“Of course! As normal as it can be when you’re dating an idol, I guess,” you say with a hint of amusement, gesturing to your disguises. Jaehyun sighs a little at that.

“You might not believe me, but I still feel really lucky that you chose me, you know,” he says. “I mean...you could just date someone who you don’t have to go through all this extra shit for, someone you could see regularly, and I’m sure it’d be easier, but…”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care about that, Jaehyun; if I wanted that, I’d have it. This is different for me, but I don’t regret any of this.” You grab his free hand that’s resting on the console and slip your fingers between his. “You don’t have to be self-conscious about it or anything.”

Jaehyun squeezes your fingers between his and gives you a smile in return.

You and Jaehyun go to a restaurant he’s talked about before, claiming it serves some of the best pork belly in the area. It’s a little fancier than you expected it to be, and you would’ve dressed up more if you knew, but Jaehyun insists that what you’re both wearing is fine. It’s not like anyone one else will be judging you, anyway; the restaurant has a private dining room, which he reserved so you’d have some privacy while you eat.

“You really went all out, huh?” you say, giving him a sly look after you both sit down.

“Why not? You only get one first date. Got to make a good impression,” he says, putting his chin in his hand.

“We’re already together, I don’t think there’s much chance of me rejecting you at this point.” You laugh. “But you know I appreciate the effort.”

Jaehyun grips your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles and smiling softly. “Anything for you.”

You and Jaehyun talk as you wait for your food to come, filling each other in on all the things you didn’t get to say over the phone or simply forgot about until now. Even though you talk or text over the phone at every opportunity, you’re a little surprised to find there’s still so much to discuss in person.

“It’d be nice to have a vacation...like, a real getaway. Two weeks. A month. Not just a few days off from recording or filming or whatever the hell they decide to have us do that week,” Jaehyun says wistfully once you eventually land on the subject of your jobs.

“Where would you go if you had that time off?” you ask, clasping your hands together as you anticipate his answer.

He shrugs. “Anywhere is fine, I don’t have a real preference...as long as you’ll come with me, of course.”

“Maybe the stars will align and our schedules will allow it someday,” you say, though you aren’t optimistic that it’ll happen any time soon. You already know a new round of SM comebacks is coming soon, which means you’ll be busier than ever. You don’t work with every group or idol, but just 1 or 2 comebacks means dozens of promotional appearances, which you’ll need to be on hand for.

“If that happens, we could go to the beach...” Jaehyun spins his fork around in his hand as he thinks.

“The beach is very ambitious.” You giggle, though it’s half-hearted. “There are way too many people there. People who could recognize you.”

Jaehyun has that face again, which tells you he wants to say but I don’t really care who finds out, but you assume he’s not actually that reckless. Maybe. “It wouldn’t be impossible,” he says slowly, “if it was nighttime. Or a beach people don’t go to often. Or a private beach.”

“Maybe,” you say thoughtfully, tracing your finger across the tablecloth. You’re both talking about it like it’s some far-off thing, but you can already see the wheels turning in his mind, and somehow you feel this beach trip might come sooner than you think.

Much sooner, actually.

After you leave the restaurant, Jaehyun makes good on his idea and actually takes you to the beach; the closest one is a little over an hour away from Seoul. It’s a last-minute thing, and you’re both exhilarated and anxious at the same time. You pester him with questions about the other people who’ll inevitably be at the beach, although that doesn’t do much to dampen your enthusiasm; taking this trip just means more time with him. And God knows you both need these hours together however you can get them.

“It’s almost winter,” he insists. “Hardly anyone will even be out there to see us. And if there are some people, we can just keep our disguises on.”

“Yes, almost winter, which means it’ll be freezing cold, too.” You shake your head at his smirk, and you know he’s thinking he’s just had the most genius idea ever. You wrap your arms around yourself at the thought of the temperature outside.

“If you get cold, just stay next to me. I’ll keep you warm,” Jaehyun says this like he’s just made some heroic declaration, and you look at him for a few seconds before you both burst into laughter.

“Here you go with the kdrama lines again.” You roll your eyes, leaning against the window as you watch other cars speed past on the highway. “I’ll be waiting for your acting debut, Mr. Jung.”

“Promise you won’t get jealous if I do?”

“Please! There’s no reason to be jealous,” you reply coolly. “I’m the one who gets to have you all to myself, after all.”

When you get to the beach, it’s about as empty as Jaehyun predicted it would be, to your surprise. There are a few stragglers here and there, but they’re too far off from where you are to worry about. You’re decidedly less nervous once you see this, and you let him tug your hand and pull you onto the sand like a thrilled kid.

“This is pretty,” you admit as you watch the waves crash against the shore. There’s nothing but sand and water for miles—enough to lose yourself in. You hold your hat closer to your head as a sudden strong breeze threatens to carry it off.

You and Jaehyun walk along the sand, and you make him walk on the inside closest to the water because you don’t want the cold tide splashing you as it rushes in. He doesn’t care nearly as much as you do about it, which makes you shake your head in amusement. He even takes his shoes off at one point.

“You’ll catch a cold out here,” you say, raising an eyebrow at his bare feet in the water.

“I’ll be fine,” he insists. “Even if I get sick, I’ll get to have you as my sexy nurse, so I’m not complaining.”

“You’ve got a lot of balls! Who said I’d be your nurse? You’d probably make me wear one of those goofy ass nurse costumes straight out of a porno.” You snort at the idea of that, though secretly, you don’t hate it.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You turn your head away from him, holding back your giggles but mostly so you can resist the urge to jump him then and there. “You’re so immature sometimes.”

“You still love it, though.” Before you can respond to that, Jaehyun leans closer to you and plants another wet kiss on your lips. You stumble in the sand a bit, but he slips his arm around your waist to steady you and press your body closer to his.

You quickly lose yourself in the kiss, focusing on nothing but Jaehyun’s lips on yours and the thunderous sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Jaehyun lowers his inhibitions as he deepens the embrace, his hands sliding to your ass.

“Your ass is so soft,” he groans, gripping the soft flesh and pushing his hips into you. You can already feel that he’s hard and straining against his pants.

“Horny bastard,” you giggle against his lips, though you could probably say the same for yourself, unable to part from his mouth for even a whole second. Your tongues slide together, and one of Jaehyun’s hands shifts from your ass to travel underneath your sweater. You don’t want to, but you manage to pry yourself away from him. “Maybe we should go back to the car. I know it’s hardly anyone out here, but I ain’t tryna get arrested…”

Jaehyun sighs, planting a few more kisses on your neck and collarbone. “Do we have to?” You try not to throw your reasoning to the wind as you stroke his hair and bring his face back up to be level with yours.

“Do you plan on fucking here? Because you’ll be washing sand out of your ass for days.”

“Well, when you put it like that...guess you’re right. Let’s go, then.” He finally steps away from you, only to hook his arms under your legs and sweep you off your feet, carrying you back to the car.

“You never quit!” You cling to his arms as if you’re afraid he’ll drop you as he walks you back to the car, with you kicking your feet and laughing the whole time. When he finally sets you down, your shoes touching the gravel of the parking lot, he unlocks the back door and you both slip into the backseat of the car.

Jaehyun shuts the door behind you both, finally closing you off from the cold. He leans over the console to put the key in the ignition and turn the heat on, and you take the opportunity to smack his butt while he’s up. He sits back with a fake shocked expression on his face, and then he tries to grab your arm and twist your body around so he can do the same to you.

You cry out and try to shield your butt from him, but he lands a smack hard enough to sting, and you punch him in the arm. “Ow! I didn’t do it that hard to you!” You two end up playfighting in the back of his car, both your hats flying off in the tumble as you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to stop him from tickling you to death.

You end up lying on your back with Jaehyun hovering over you, his warm breaths hitting your face as he laughs. He pulls his mask off fully so you can see his face, and you do the same.

Jaehyun tilts your chin up and kisses you, his other hand on the hem of your sweater as if he can’t decide if he wants to pull it up or go underneath it. He eventually settles on the former when he tugs it upwards to rest above your breasts, his lips never parting from yours the entire time. With this new access, he gropes your tits, kneading the flesh softly and pressing his thumbs into your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

You push your chest closer into his hands, relishing his gentle but firm touches on your body, and he presses forward more to slide his tongue past your lips, exploring the warm confines of your mouth. In turn, your hands go underneath his sweater and shirt, diving under the fabric and caressing his firm abs.

“Your hands are cold,” he smiles against your lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth after speaking.

“Because you brought me to a beach in the middle of November,” you reply, pressing your fingers deeper into his skin and absorbing his body heat. Your hands drift higher and ghost across his nipples, making them harden in response to your touch.

Jaehyun’s lips move to your neck again, biting at your pulse point and leaving soothing kisses in their wake, although he doesn’t spend much more time there before burying his face into your cleavage.

“No more low-cut tops for me,” you say breathlessly as he practically devours you and leaves marks behind on your skin. You wish to do the same to him, but that would only raise questions from the other stylists and the managers, who you’re not interested in doing battle with. Jaehyun answers that by pulling your bra cups down and sucking your nipple past his lips, swirling his tongue around the tip in a way that makes your legs tremble.

You move down towards the waistband of his pants and unzip them, pushing your hand into his underwear and gripping his dick. It twitches in your grasp, and his breath comes out hitched as you squeeze and stroke him as best you can while his jeans are still on.

“Fuck,” he says as he sits back, separating you from him and undoing your jeans. He pulls your pants off, and you help him shimmy them down in the small space of the car. Your underwear comes off soon after, discarded under one of the seats. You’re already wet enough to be glistening, and Jaehyun decides to take a taste of it, maneuvering you both so he can bury his mouth between your thighs.

You whimper quietly as he licks into you and pulls your clit into his mouth, curving his fingers inside you just like he said he would in all those nasty messages you sent to each other. Your mind and body are electrified with how good it feels, your hips pushing up to be closer to his mouth as he indulges in you, making a mess of his face.

Before you can come, though, Jaehyun pulls away from you, which makes you curse. You reach for him, though he’s quicker than you and shies away from your grasp. “Get back here before I kick your ass.”

Jaehyun pushes his pants and underwear further down, revealing his hard dick to you. “I’ve got somethin’ better for you. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

More shuffling ensues as you balance yourself on your hands and knees on the backseat of the car, Jaehyun settling in behind you. “This ain’t very comfortable.” It’s not the worst thing in the world, but there are definitely better places to fuck than inside a cramped vehicle.

“Sorry, babe. I promise the next time we have sex will be on a feather-lined King-sized bed, but until then…” The tip of Jaehyun’s dick slides across your ass and then through your pussy lips, nudging at your entrance. He teases you by pushing it in and then taking it back out, and you quickly grow tired of his games, wanting him to fuck you for real.

“Haven’t we both waited long enough?” You wiggle your ass against him and try to back up so he’ll slip inside, but he holds your hips in place and continues rutting against you like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

Finally, he acquiesces and slides inside of you, and you both gasp into the heated air of the car at this raw contact. Your fingernails make little imprints in the fabric of the seat as you hang onto the material, letting a shuddering breath pass through your lips. Jaehyun is hard and thick inside you and stretches you out nicely around him, filling that space inside of you that needed to be satisfied.

Your head hangs low as he begins thrusting into you, a little slowly at first and then more steadily as he gains a good rhythm. You keep your moans to a minimum, afraid to alert anyone outside to your presence in the car—even though they would most definitely see you before they hear you. Jaehyun isn’t having that, though, as one of his hands sneaks around to your front to stroke your clit; the added sensation makes you push back against him harder, wanting him as close as possible.

“Why are you hiding those pretty sounds, Noona?” he asks teasingly. “You told me all those times over the phone how you wanted to moan for me...why aren’t you doing it now?” He rocks his hips into you a little differently, rubbing against your spot, and you can’t help the groan of pleasure that slips out after that motion. You press your sweaty forehead against the seat, trying to gather breath. You never thought of yourself as being someone who gets off on honorifics, but in this context, it’s doing something to you.

“We’re in the middle of a parking lot, if you didn’t notice,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice low and steady as he keeps sliding against that spot, the soft slap of your bodies being the loudest sound in the car.

“A nearly empty parking lot at night,” Jaehyun retorts, pressing his fingers more firmly against your clit. His hand slides lower to where you’re connected, and he uses your wetness to help him circle his fingers more smoothly. You can only roll your eyes; he has a response for every argument you try to bring up. You can’t be bothered with that, though, as your mind gets increasingly hazy from how he continues fucking into you without a single worry.

Your attempts to stay quiet become more difficult as Jaehyun’s pace increases, like he’s purposely trying to overwhelm you with stimulation. The one hand that was still holding your hip comes to your front like the other, though he reaches up higher so he can grasp one of your breasts, pinching at your nipple.

“Fuck, baby,” Jaehyun grunts, pushing into you hard enough to make you yelp. “We waited too long for this. Should’ve just fucked you in the practice room.” A moan slips out at that, even though you try to hide it, and of course Jaehyun doesn’t miss it. “Do you like the thought of that? Want the whole group to see you taking my dick? Little exhibitionist.”

You can’t deny how your pussy throbs at the idea, even if you won’t say it to him. Not that you would need to; he can probably feel it. “That’s y-you! Th-this was your idea, pervert.”  

“Stop acting like you don’t love this dick.” It’s getting to the point where you can feel yourself climbing that summit towards your climax, yet you still need that extra push to get you to the top. If there’s anyone else in the parking lot right now, it’s already too obvious what you’re doing inside the car, so allow yourself to forget about trying to be inconspicuous and freely push back on Jaehyun’s dick, whining at how deep it reaches inside you.

More sweat gathers on your skin, and you’re sure the windows must be steamed up by now.

“Hope you’re gonna soak me,” Jaehyun says, pressing himself closer to your body so he’s draped across your back. The hand he was using to fondle your tits darts to your lower body, and he wraps his arm around your hips so he can hold you in place as he hammers into you. This move pushes you off the edge you’d been clinging to, and you scratch the seat’s material and moan loudly as your walls clench around him and draw him further into your willing body, trying to milk him for his own release.

“God, Jaehyun, please fuck me, please, yes.” You chant this incomprehensibly, uncaring that he’s already fucking you—you’re still going to ask him for more. You haven’t felt this blissed-out in a while. Jaehyun keeps pushing into you after the first orgasm and pulls another gush of pleasure out of you as he searches for his own end.

It finally comes with him hurriedly pulling out of you to spill his cum on your ass, stroking his length to get every last drop out. He groans deeply as he expresses his pleasure, and his sounds make you clench around nothing, wishing he’d come inside you instead.

Jaehyun wipes his cum off you as you slump against the seat and regain your breath, feeling more content than you have in months after finally unwinding that ball of tension within you. Jaehyun seems to feel the same way he keeps covering you with kisses even as you try to pull your clothes back on, satisfaction coloring his features.

“Look, if you want round 2, you’re gonna have to take me to an actual bed.” You playfully wave away his advances, but not before giving him one last long kiss.

“Say no more.” You both climb back to the front of the car and Jaehyun easily pulls out of the parking lot in search of a nearby hotel, readying yourselves for a long night.ahead.

[theultimatefanficwriter]

12 Days of Danganronpa Day 3: Byakuya Togami

“Hey, Makoto! Over here!” 

Byakuya furrowed his brow in annoyance, lifting his gaze from his book to look to the corner of the library where Yasuhiro was seated. The clairvoyant was waving over the Ultimate Lucky Student.

The shorter boy shrugged and began making his way over, waving and shooting Byakuya a smile as he passed. The heir huffed and returned his attention to the book. 

“Are you excited for Christmas, Makoto?!” Hiro asked as his friend sat across from him.

“Oh, yeah, I am!” The younger of the two confirmed. “This will be Kyoko and mine’s first Christmas together, and I’m excited to spend it with her.”

“Dude, same with me and Daiya!” Hiro beamed, leaning back in his seat. “He says he wants me to celebrate it with his family, but uh…” The fortune teller scratched his neck. “I think Mondo still hasn’t...accepted I’m dating his brother.”

“Ah, right.” Makoto chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, he looked about ready to tear your head off when you told him. But he cares about Daiya a lot, and when he sees how happy the two of you are together, he’ll come around.”

The taller boy smiled softly. “You think so?”

Makoto nodded. “Yeah, I do!” He placed a hand on Hiro’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything will be alright.”

Yasuhiro let out a relieved breath.

“Speaking of Mondo.” Makoto continued. “He recently told me he’s getting Taka this really nice red scarf for Christmas. And I’m getting Kyoko a new pair of gloves I saw her looking at in the mall. What present are you getting Daiya?”

It was at this conversation that Byakuya froze. ‘A present? Damn, I’d completely forgotten.’ He thought to himself, then closed the book he was holding as the sound reverberated around the library. The others inside turned to look as he quickly stood and made his way out.

~~~

Byakuya cursed quietly as he began quickly making his way to his room. Christmas was so close, and he had forgotten to get you a gift! That would not stand. You were the only one in his class that didn’t make him feel like going insane. If he didn’t show you how much he genuinely appreciated you, you’d think he didn’t care about you when that could not be further from the truth!

“Perhaps chocolate and flowers? No, too pedestrian.” He muttered. “Even that musclehead Mondo found a more meaningful gift for his significant other. Come on, this shouldn’t be so hard. What does she enjoy?” The affluent prodigy looked down at the ground as he walked, trying to recall your interests. “Perhaps-”

“Look out!” 

The warning came too late. Byakuya barely had time to look up before someone collided with him. This caused the boy to stumble backwards. He managed to stay on his feet by leaning against the wall. “What in the-?!”

“Oh shit, sorry, Byakuya!” The annoyed ultimate turned to see the red haired baseball star Leon Kuwata smiling nervously at him. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and-”

“Clearly.” The heir huffed, dusting off his suit. “Just open your eyes next time, you ignoramus.”

Leon furrowed his brow in confusion. “Igno...wha?”

Byakuya rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this. I need to...Wait a moment.” He slowly turned to look to the ginger. “You are friends with Y/N, correct?”

The redhead tilted his head. “Huh? Uh, y-yeah. Why? If you think I’m gonna try to steal your girl from you, I swear, I have my eyes on S-”

“Silence.” The Togami heir interrupted the other. “I’m not concerned about you ‘stealing my girl.’ Y/N is much too intelligent and cultured to go for someone of your...ilk.” He turned to fully face Leon. “No, what I need from you is to tell me what if there is anything Y/N had mentioned wanting recently.”

Leon scratched at his head. “Something she’s mentioned wanting? Why?” His eyes widened. “Have you not gotten her a Christmas gift, yet?!”

Byakuya scoffed. “Of course I have.” He lied. “I’m simply curious as to her interests, like any partner should be.”

The baseball player shrugged. “Aight, whatever.” The boy sniffed and rubbed at his nose as he thought. “Well, she was saying how she wanted to go see Ibuki from Class 77-B perform with Sayaka. She mentioned she couldn’t really afford the tickets and didn’t wanna ask them for a freebie just ‘cause they’re friends.”

Byakuya furrowed his brow in thought. Tickets to a concert? No, that was still too ordinary. Y/N deserved only the best. “Is that all she mentioned?”

Leon nodded. “That I can remember. Y/N doesn’t really talk about that sorta thing often.”

The heir sighed. “Very well. You’re dismissed.” And with that he turned on his heel and began making his way down the hall.

~~~

“Byakuya, what a surprise.” Celestia smiled politely as she opened her door to reveal the taller man there. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You are the only other person in our pathetic year that has even the smallest understanding of class.” He began. “I felt you were the only one I could ask and get a worthy answer.”

Celeste chuckled and stepped to the side, allowing Byakuya in. “Well, I am honored.” She stated, closing the door behind Byakuya when he entered. She made her way to her bed and sat gracefully on it. “What exactly is it you require my assistance with?”

The rich boy sat down on a chair as he looked to the gambler. “I need a present to give Y/N for Christmas.” He told her. “It had slipped my mind until I overheard Makoto and Hiro talking about it.”

Celeste nodded. “I see. Well, have you considered what she is most interested in?”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Of course I have.” He snapped. “I even asked that idiot Leon, but all he told me was Y/N wanted to go to some concert. But that isn’t good enough for her.”

“I concur.” The gothic lolita agreed. “I suggest you spare no expense. Money is obviously no issue for you, so perhaps you could buy out a restaurant for the evening and have a private dinner. I would also suggest giving her an expensive necklace. Y/N is a lovely person, but she desperately needs more diamonds in her wardrobe.”

Byakuya thought for a moment, nodding his head. “You know, I think that idea could work.” He grinned lightly. “I knew you were the right one to go to. I give you my thanks, Celeste.”

The girl smiled and waved at the heir as he stood to leave. “It was my pleasure. I am glad I could be of assistance.”

~~~

A short while later, Byakuya was walking back to his dorm in order to make the needed calls for the gift.

“H-hey, Byakuya! Wait a minute!”

He stopped and turned as his name was called. There was Chihiro, running up to catch up with him. “What is it? I’m busy.” He said in annoyance.

The programmer came to a stop in front of the prodigy. “I-I know, I’m sorry. I-it’s just, Leon told me you asked him for help getting Y/N a present, and I-”

“I did not.” Byakuya stopped the boy. “I simply wanted to learn of Y/N’s interests.” 

Chihiro flinched. “W-well, Celeste then mentioned you came to her as well.” He continued. “They told me what they suggested, and I just wanted to ask who’s idea you went with.”

The taller of the time sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can no one here hold their tongue?” He grumbled, then looked to the smaller boy. “I have decided to listen to Celeste’s advice. It was the one that made most sense.”

Chihiro frowned. “I was worried about that.” He reached a hand forward before a glare from Byakuya made him place his hand down. “U-um, I think you should listen to Leon. It may not be as expensive or classy, but it’s more Y/N’s taste.”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy the other gift just as much if not more.”

Chihiro rubbed the back of his neck. “I d-don’t mean to argue, but...Y/N prefers simpler things. It will mean more if you give her a gift she’s interested in. She’ll still appreciate whatever you get her, of course, but if you really want her to know you care, the gift should come from what she likes.” Byakuya frowned as he took this in. The look on his face made Chihiro shift awkwardly. “U-um, b-but that’s just my opinion. I just thought you should know.” He then turned and began to leave. “S-sorry for bothering you!” 

Byakuya watched as the smaller boy ran off, leaving him alone to ponder what he had said.

~~~

It was now Christmas day, and the Ultimate Affluent Prodigy stood outside your door waiting for you to open it.

It didn’t take long for you to do so, and you smiled when you saw him. “Merry Christmas, Byakuya!” You greeted him, leaning up on your tiptoes to peck his cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He returned the greeting, a small smile on his lips. “May I come in?”

You nodded and allowed him entry. You closed the door behind him before both of you walked over and sat on your bed. You reached over to the side and pulled out a small box. “I don’t know if now is an alright time, but I’m excited for you to open your present.”

Byakuya chuckled as he took the gift from you. “I believe now is as good a time as any other.” He said as he began unwrapping the box. He placed the wrapping paper to the side and revealed a black box. He opened it, and you watched as he smiled. He grabbed something from the small box and held it in his hand. It was an expensive looking gem encrusted pocket watch.

“Do you like it?” You asked nervously.

“Like it?” Byakuya repeated as he turned the watch over in his hand, inspecting it. “It’s wonderful. I love it.” He slipped the watch into his shirt pocket, then turned to you and kissed your forehead.

You giggled happily. “Oh, I’m so glad you like it! I know you have a taste for the fancier things, so I decided to get you something aligned to those tastes.”

The heir frowned. “I do appreciate it, but I hope you did not spend money you didn’t have.”

“No no, don’t worry!” You assured him. “I used money I had saved away. I planned this for a while.”

Byakuya nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I have something for you as well.” The heir mentioned, reaching into his suit pocket. 

Your smile widened. “Oh, Byakuya, you didn’t have to get me anything!”

Your boyfriend scoffed. “Of course I did. You spent more money than you most likely should have on me. It would be extremely unfair if I didn’t buy you anything as well.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “I also thought for a while about what to get you. In the end, I think this was the best gift.” He placed something in front of you. “Here.”

You looked down, and your eyes widened. You quickly picked the gift up. “Tickets to Ibuki and Sayaka’s concert?!” You exclaimed. “How did you know I wanted these?!”

Byakuya smirked and adjusted his glasses. “I will admit, I had a little help from your friends Leon and Chihiro.” He confessed. “Leon mentioned you wanted to see the two perform, and Chihiro suggested I buy two of them, so we can spent quality time together.”

You felt tears of happiness in your eyes. You lunged at your partner, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips against his. 

He chuckled and closed his eyes as he rested his hands on your waist. 

When you pulled away, you rested your head on his chest happily. “Thank you, Byakuya. This...this has been the best Christmas ever.”

And with four votes, it’s Byakuya Togami for Day 3 of 12 Days of Danganronpa! I used to roleplay as Byakuya, so I’m a bit more comfortable writing him, however like with ALL these fics, the plot is a bit rushed. I am happier with this one than the previous fic, however. And if you are wondering, yes. This fic is filled with self indulgence. I ship Hiro and Daiya way more than I should, and Ishimondo is always a win ^_^  I hope you enjoyed, and come back for Day 4 tomorrow!

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 3

whoops is it time for a little bit of angst??? i think it’s time for a little bit of angst. 

warnings: cussing, suggestive language, attempted assault, sexual assault, stalking, unwanted advantages,smut, angst, another smut warning cause i haven’t written smut in a HOT minute, please 18+ cannot stress that enough 

masterlist for my writing

Part 4 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One date had turned into three which sprouted into many many more. Despite having challenging schedules, the two new found lovers made time for each other. Aizawa didn’t really think he’d get a chance like this but here he is, standing outside the bookstore he frequents as often as he can with a tiny goofy grin on his face.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

He stutters out a response upon seeing the outfit his girlfriend decided to wear. It wasn’t an easy thing to squeeze out of the man, but after the fifth date and the first time she spent the night at his place the couple made it official. Even his co-workers couldn’t believe the sleepy man had a girlfriend on top of everything he already does… But here she is, wearing one of his favorite outfits of hers as they meet up for a brief date.

“I was about to drop dead if I had to wait any longer,” he whispers as he leans in to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love the way you look tonight.”

(Y/n) looks away embarrassed. Even though they had been dating for over three months now, she still couldn’t get used to Shouta’s flirting and downright cuteness. “T-thank you, Sho. I’m glad you get a few hours before your patrol shift starts.” She looks to him with bright and eager eyes that he could get lost in forever. “So, where are we going?”

It takes a little willpower in Aizawa to hold back a smirk as he enjoys the view of her impatience adorn her features. He’s not sure who will be more excited for the date, him or her.

“You’ll see,” he snickers. Her eyes roll as they stroll along the street. The setting sun ahead of them litters the sky with beautiful purples and oranges; a few clouds line the skies giving the world around them an ethereal feel.

They continue to walk for about ten more minutes, having mindless conversation about anything and everything, from how he’s going to be a homeroom teacher for the next year, how she wants to add a café portion to her bookstore to draw in more people and have more income, it flows seamlessly.

Soon they stop at a store front that is unfamiliar to the woman. Once she sees that her lover has stopped, she looks to the sign and suddenly her face lights up.

“Shouta, shut up are you serious?”

He leans down to her ear, “we’ve walked by this before and I’ve always noticed how your eyes linger here. So I got us reservations.”

The sparkle in her eye is unfazed as the grin on her face only gets wider.

“A cat café!? Shouta, I can’t- I mean you took me? Here? God, you’re amazing! I just-“ she ends her sentence by pulling him by his jacket collar and kissing him lovingly. After his initial shock, he cups her face with his warm hands and deepens the kiss. The feel of his lips on hers is a sense she never wants to tire of; she’s practically addicted to it already.

Aizawa hesitantly pulls away, “as much as I’d like to continue that, we don’t wanna miss our reservation, Kitten.” He kisses her on the cheek and pulls her inside the establishment. Once inside, the couple gets swept up in the ambiance of the place. (Y/n) had an inkling that this date wasn’t just to make you happy, but to make a certain cat lover of a man next her happy too. She had picked up on his love of cats and strays on their other dates and she may or may not attempt to adopt one of the cats as a surprise.

Two hours went by too quickly in the couples opinion, but they had to sadly leave. Their stomachs and hearts full, the two begin their walk back to the bookstore. A deep voice breaks the content silent. “I really don’t want to go on patrol tonight.” (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrow at his statement and silently urges Aizawa to continue. “I want to keep looking at you like this. So happy and content… I wish our schedules weren’t so crazy.”

“I do too,” she breathes, “but that’s how it is and I get it. I mean, we both know each other at this point and know that we’re busy. It’s life, we do what we love and hopefully someone will be there with us you know…”

The momentum of the conversation slows as they reach the bookstore. The words she wishes to say fill up her lungs begging to burst from her lips as she stares at the pre hero before. She gulps whatever anxiety she has and blurts out the words she’s wanted to say all night.

“I love you.”

Black eyes widen at the proclamation and then soften once he sees the shyness and slight fear (Y/n) poses in front of him. He steps up to her, staring at her lips then back to the eyes he can get lost in forever and whispers, “I know, I love you too Kitten,” and softly kisses her lips.

***************************************

“Hey, it’s (Y/n), I mean, yeah it’s me… But where are you? I’ve been waiting outside the club for about 10 minutes now. I know your patrol ended half an hour ago. Just call me back okay?”

(Y/n) grouchily hangs up the phone and pouts. She knew he was out late which is why she wanted him to pick her up from work so she could spend the weekend at his apartment. Aizawa had just finished the first week of school as the new 1-A homeroom teacher and his girlfriend knew he would need sometime to relax. Begrudgingly, of course.

She looks to her phone again and sees that it’s approaching 2:30 in the morning. Normally she doesn’t take closing shifts because of the bookstore, but wanted to align her schedule with Aizawa’s for some time together. After almost a year don’t you think he would have been a little more considerate of this fact? This wasn’t easy for her with the new café being added to her store and having to hire new employees; she needed this one little thing.

“Fuck it, I’m walking by myself.”

Clearly a bad idea. Blissfully unaware, she sullenly walked away from her second job and toward Aizawa’s apartment. The city at night wasn’t always the safest and she knew that, but she had been waiting for more than 20 minutes for Aizawa to show and he hadn’t so she took matters into her own hand. She kept her bag close to her body as she sped walk, attempting to keep her roaring thoughts at bay.

Her phone buzzes which halts her mind, and herself, and she stops in her path. She reaches in a sees a text from him saying “omw”. That’s it? And just now? Barely being on her way, she decides to turn around and go back to their original meeting place.

Bad idea number two. Roughly, she bumps into a stiff being and trips back a few steps. In front of her is a man in a long coat and hat, covering most of his identity. “Excuse me,” she mutters past him, but is abruptly stopped when his hand grips her forearm.

“You don’t remember me.”

“Sir, let go of me.”

“Why don’t you remember me?!”

Panic rising in her, (Y/n) begins to struggle against her assailant. “Sir I have no idea what you want from me! Please let me go.”

The man, clearly hysterical, pulls her into a nearby alley and slams her against the brick wall. The woman winces in pain and tries her best to not cry in front of this stranger. “Please, just take my bag… Don’t hurt me!”

“…Why don’t you remember me? You served me for months at the club. Months! You always made my favorite drink, always made me feel better. I love you (Y/F/n)! I always gave you extra tips when I came in and now I find that you’re thinking of quitting?! Is there someone else? I left my wife like you said I should because I wasn’t happy!”

The more the man rambles, the more she starts to remember. He went by the name Shuichi Oda and from what she gathered had a rough night. Obviously a drunk, it seems like things haven’t been going well for him. She remembers having some brief conversations with him to make her patron feel better but… Damn it! She knew that this was the downside of her quirk, some people took it too personally.

“Look, Shuichi-“

“You do remember me!” He exclaims and pulls her into an unneeded hug and starts to pet her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you to be alone for quite some time. Your quirk made me feel better. You, made me feel better.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she shakily tries to reason, “I’m just a bartender. It’s my job to make people feel better.”

The man hits his head with his fist, frightening the woman. “No! With you, it’s different, see?” After he says he leans in to sloppily kiss her, holding her still against the wall behind her. His hands begin to roam in places they shouldn’t which make tears start to form in her eyes. “Please don’t cry,” he wipes a tear from her face but she moves out of his reach. “Don’t be scared, I love you. And you’re gonna come with me and be with me forever okay?”

“Please,” she screams, “let me go! I have- mmph!”

“Sh sh sh sh, we can’t have you screaming! Others could hear and try to take you away from me!” The hand he placed over her mouth is now covered in tears from her eyes. She bites at him, but his maniacal smile only gets bigger. “I don’t feel physical pain darling, just emotional.” As soon as he says that, his wandering other hand goes toward her breast and he sighs in contentment. “Oh how I’ve longed for this-“

“That’s enough!”

Soon Shuichi is being thrust into the air. He’s wrapped up in bindings and hanging from a nearby streetlamp. Eyes glowing red stare at the apprehended man and pull the wraps tighter, causing him to cough in pain. Aizawa tugs on the wraps to make the man hit his head on the light and pass out. Luckily some sirens are heard closely as someone walking by heard her scream and called for the police. Aizawa was on his way and followed the direction of the police cars hoping it didn’t involve his lover.

An hour later finds the couple walking into the pro hero’s apartment. A strong silver blanket is still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body as they make their way in. They both take off their shoes and settle in silence as the events of the last hour replay through their minds. They don’t even bother to eat anything and start to get ready for bed. Her pajamas are partially on when he sits down on the bed and mumbles, “why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Hm? What was that?”

Sighing louder, her turns to face her. “I said, why didn’t you wait for me like you were supposed to?”

(Y/n) scoffs as she pulls his shirt down her body. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t I wait? Why were you late?” Her question came out more forceful than she intended but it had been a very long day. “I rearranged my schedule so then we could get off work around the same time for once. Where the hell were you?”

“Don’t give me that,” he states getting louder, “school went late so I began my patrol late.”

“Would it have killed you to tell me that instead of keeping me waiting?”

“Would it have killed you to wait where I wanted you to? Then maybe tonight wouldn’t have happened.”

Her mouth flew open at his assumption. “Are you saying me getting attacked was my fault?!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes as his frustration grows. “If you had just stayed there and waited I was going to get there.”

“Yeah sure! But did you forget the part where that nutjob has been following me for months? He would’ve gotten to me regardless.”

“That’s because you’re too kind. Letting people think that all their problems and issues will go away with just the right fix!”

“You’re ridiculous!” You yell, “Is that really what you think of me and my quirk? Is that what you think I did to you?” (Y/n) moves around the bed to get face to face with him to prove more of her point.

He stands up off the bed to look down at her. “It could be like that for him or any other guy you’re kind to or use your quirk on. All you had to do was wait!”

“And we’re back to where we fucking started. You were late! What was I supposed to do? Wait for the next guy to come along and fuck me over in the middle of the night?”

“(Y/n) that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Oh is it? Then why do you keep putting the blame on whether or not I waited?”

“Look,” he recedes slightly, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me being late, but you can’t just walk around by yourself like that!”

“Fuck off, yes I can! I’ve done it before why does it suddenly have to change now?”

“Because I fucking love you, idiot!”

Throats hoarse after the shouting match, black eyes shut as he sinks into the bed. (Y/n)’s conviction begins to falter as she follows him onto the mattress. “Shouta?”

He takes a deep breath in attempt to control himself, “I know I should have told you I was late, I’m sorry. But, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. When you weren’t there, I panicked.” He leans onto her shoulder while she rubs his back soothingly. “I was so scared for you. When I saw him touching you, I saw red.”

(Y/n) breathes deeply taking in his words, “Sho…”

“I don’t want to lose you, or have you be hurt because of me. I’m a pro-hero and a teacher at a prominent school, I’m bound to have some enemies.” He sits up to meet her gaze, holding her face in his hands. “That guy hurt you because of you and I wasn’t there.”

“Sho, it’s not your fault.”

Silence falls over them, letting the weight of their words settle into their beings. He brings her forehead toward his as fresh tears fall from her face wetting his skin.

“Kitty cat, I’m sorry for yelling.”

She kisses him lightly, “Me too.”

He kisses her again, and again, and again, Until the light, chaste kisses become deep and full of lust. Her hands find solace in his hair as her lips grant his tongue entrance. He pulls her closer to him, hoping that she can feel his erection through his pants. The feeling of him grinding against her sleep shorts elicits a moan from her mouth that makes him harder. They break for air, a line of saliva connecting them as their pupils dilate.

“Fuck I wanna keep going but you’ve had a long day.” He tries to pull away from her only to be brought in for another breathless kiss. His hands automatically went to her hips. “Kitten,” he moans into her lips.

“We have the whole weekend for me to treat you right. The whole weekend for you to be screaming my name, calling me daddy,” he smacks her ass at that comment earning a hiss from (Y/n) which ended up making her even more wet. “But we need to sleep.”

“Fuck you Shouta,” she whines. “I wanna fuck you now. I’m already so fucking wet for you and I know your dick is itching to be in my mouth or better yet in me.”

Aizawa grunts at the implications but stays strong. “No, sweetie. As much as I really want to, we gotta sleep.”

“Please I want to forget he touched me so please do something or else-“

At that she’s quickly pinned to the bed with the strong man above her. “Don’t forget,” he whispers, “you asked for this.” He slowly drags her bottoms down her legs, exposing her dripping sex to him. It took everything in him to not move too fast. Once her pj bottoms were thrown across the room, he situates himself between her legs, rubbing his hands up her calf, to her thighs enticingly slow. A pressure is felt on her hips as she’s being held in place by her lovers grip.

On instinct her hips buck slightly, eagerly awaiting what’s to come. The feel of his breath on her inner thigh sends her thoughts into a frenzy, only for him to place his lips around the sensitive skin. His kisses are feather light that they almost don’t feel like they’re there, but she’s reminded as soon as his teeth make contact with her skin. A whine escapes her lips at the action, making Aizawa growl.

“Fuck, kitten, you’re so wet for me.”

“Mhm, ah, only for you Daddy- ah fuck!”

All his restraint came undone at the pet name as he wrapped his lips around her folds, sucking and tonguing her with earnest. The way his tongue would flit in and out of her wet hole drove him crazy; it was like she was made for him and only him. He continues to lap at her folds, already starting to feel the pressure build up within her.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum for Daddy this early, eh? All I’ve done with eat you out and I’m not full. Plus,” he sneaks a finger into making her hiss and cuss, “I don’t think you’ve had your fill yet Kitty cat.”

Her moans and whines are music to his ears as he doesn’t let up his ministrations. Now two fingers deep into her, he begins to scissor her open while sucking on her abused and pronounced clit.

“Ah, fuck Sho. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” (Y/n) is breathless as her back arches off the mattress for the umpteenth time. She can feel him smile against her as he lifts up to face her. “Then cum Kitten, cum for Daddy.” His motions speed up and upon hearing her scream out his name mixed with curses, he lets up. God, she looks beautiful like this. Her body is covered in a glimmering layer of sweat, her stomach moving in time with her rampant breathing as she comes down from her high. No one else will get to see her like this, no one. Aizawa wipes away sweat from her brow and leans in to let her taste herself on his tongue. The action alone is enough to make him want to burst, which he is tempted to do.

“Damn, you’re still so wet and slick for me,” he notes swiping a finger against her to reaffirm.

“Babe, rollover. I wanna ride you.”

The lovely man above her lifts an eyebrow at her request, “as you wish, princess.” He is then forcibly pinned, almost like what happened to her not too long ago. “Fuck, you look so hot from down here babe.” He knows that she needs this, to feel to be in charge and take the lead. So he doesn’t help her line up the tip of his hard cock to her entrance, and he doesn’t push himself up into her like he wants.

A wanton moan escapes his lovers lips as she finally settles herself on his cock. She feels the grumble and twitching from her his dick inside her and the feeling is euphoric. The pro-hero’s breath gets shallower as he waits for her to move on him, again holding himself back from taking charge. Once she starts bouncing on his cock, all he can do is whisper and moan out praises and curses. “Fuck, Kitten. That feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah babe? You like the way I’m riding your cock?”

He hisses, “fuck yeah. Please do it more- unf.”

Suddenly he feels a new and ecstatic feeling as she gyrates her hips in ways that have him seeing stars. He’s trying to figure out if there’s some kind of pattern. And then it hits him.

“You spelling your name on my cock, yeah?”

A gasp for air is heard from both of them before she responds, “I’m just, ah, letting you know who this belongs to baby.”

“Ah fuck, Kitten, I’m gonna cum soon. But first,” his voice lowers as he grabs her breast in his hand. His thumb flicks over her nipple, earning another moan before he wraps his lips around it. His tongue continues to work the hardening bud as his hand kneads her mound. His free hand works its way to her clit and begins to rub it fiercely.

“Fuck Shouta, if you keep doing that…”

A slick pop is heard as black eyes bore into lust filled ones. “I know Kitten, we’re so close. Come on, let Daddy cum. Let me cum inside baby.” “Yes, yes ah fuck- FUCK!”

The melodious sound of moans and whimpers fill the once noiseless bedroom as the couple comes down from their highs. They fall onto each other, sweat covered and full of love for each other. Their breathing starts to slow the more they wait out, still being connected by their sexes. (Y/n) is the first to move as she slowly removes herself from her boyfriends embrace, whining at the loss of contact. Aizawa leans up slightly to take in her form and beauty.

“I’ll go grab a towel and some water.”

He pecks her cheek and leaves the room. Once he returns, he sees (Y/n) and fondly smiles. She had finally fallen asleep after everything was said and done. He rolls his eyes but continues to clean up their little mess. He leaves her water glass on her nightstand while he had finished his.

Aizawa pulls the covers over the two of them as he cuddles into his girlfriend, watching her sleep soundly. She looks ethereal right now, no problems or stress on her features.

“I swear I will protect you. Whatever it takes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ha ha hahahahaha it’s so long whoops but yee if the option is there the taglist is open!  @kiribaku-queen @shinsouskitten @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo @cupcake-rogue

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding.  (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship?  Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right?  We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk.  I guess it’s overdue.  :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not?  So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah.  Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well.  Low-point.  Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move.  No Breath huh?  What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help.  XD  She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap.  And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh!  No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back.  He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess.  (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh.  Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep!  Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor.  Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME.  What is that outfit and pose.  Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling.  JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap 

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass  (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD.  Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry?  Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars?  Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something?  (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task?  And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch.  Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was.  (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous?  I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~  get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit?  Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no.  Wait.  What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!?  Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES.  God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN!  And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise!  If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!?  And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they??  This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to.  FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad.  Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is.  OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it????  For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing.  And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely.  :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories.  Is it just the Hiveswap device or something?  If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline.  Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation?  What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage!  And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction.  “ok.”  Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility.  Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John.  ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No?  So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck?  Calliope SAW all this?  Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there?  And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already.  Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep.  Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline.  It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck.  You’re going to regulate non-canon?  “Canonize” it?  Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

..............................

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it.  Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point.  Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention!  That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough.  Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit.  Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska.  Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--?  Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?!  I don’t know.  Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there.  But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?!  Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

[starlightsearches]

Kylo x reader. Kylo sewing reader for the first time and instantly realizing hes hooked, love at first sight. Tries to ignore it and realizes he can’t. Thanks!!

Escape

Hello lovely anons! Thank you for these wonderful requests, I have decided to combine them because they are so similar, and I hope you love it! This is actually an idea that I’ve played around with for a long time, and I’m so glad I finally got the opportunity to write it!

Requests are closed ✨

Kylo Ren X Fem! Reader

AN: Oh my hell this is a long one (like over 4k words). I’m not going to check—because I am incredibly lazy—but I think this is the longest request I’ve written. Warnings for major pining, angst, Hux being kind of an ass, and mentions of violence/possible minor character death! 

If you asked those who profit most from the seedier desires of the galaxy, they would tell you that the Coruscant Ballet is the place to make a pretty coin. More credits have changed hands in the grand ballroom of the Coruscant Theatre than in any of the casinos on Canto Bight, and as such, the ballet is host to most of the galaxy’s elite. If you’re looking for someone to solve a problem—to make someone disappear, to find you something rare or strictly off-the-market, to eliminate your competition—you’ll find them at the ballet.

Ren knows this, but he still doesn’t understand why that means he has to be here. All he knows is that there’s a ticket with his name on it, a special invitation from someone the general had been doing business with, and that he was expected to attend. The general prattled on in the transport, rambling about security risks and shows of strength and rallying support. Ren wasn’t listening, not really. He has his own concerns, and they don’t always align with the general’s. Especially when it means that he’ll have to sit through three hours of some ridiculous performance when he could be doing something else. Literally anything else.

The foyer is packed with people—well-dressed and conceited, of course—and the volume in the room noticeably decreases when he and the general enter through the large and ornate doors, the silence immediately filled by violent whispers. They make a show of speaking quietly, but Ren knows exactly what they’re saying about him, what questions they snicker to each other when they get a sight of him. It could be much worse, all things considered; this is Ren's first public appearance of the kind, and—if he has any say in the matter—it will be the last. Part of him itches to give these people something real to talk about, some horrifying demonstration that they could recount later at their other ridiculous social gatherings. Maybe he'd suffocate someone, or launch a whole group of them through the windows.

He doesn't do any of it, of course. He just follows the general into the theatre. The show is about to start.

At least the seats are comfortable, Ren thinks, almost too plush, and they dim the lights as the show begins, throwing the audience into relative darkness. Maybe he could sleep without drawing attention to himself. He is feeling tired—always tired lately—and he rests heavily in his chair, letting his eyelids drift closed, ready to take advantage of this time as best he’s able. His vision blurs between half-closed eyes, and the music begins, soft and sweet and easily ignored. 

Everything changes when you take to the stage. Seeing you emerge from behind the heavy curtains, it's like a lightning strike. His breath catches in his throat, he’s feeling wide awake—more than wide awake—buzzed, electric, starving. He’s never seen anything like you before. He doesn't know how to act.

The hours pass like minutes when you dance, and he’s on the edge of his seat for all of them, his eyes drawn to you and he’s helpless to resist, not that he would ever want to look anywhere else. Your movements speak to power and grace and the command you hold over your body impressive in the extreme, even to someone like him. Ren is both completely ignorant of the story and deeply invested in it; he feels everything you experience, the joy, the betrayal, the mourning. You seem to live it, lost in the tale you create as you move to the music, and when he watches you take your final bow, he’s hooked. He has to see you do that again.

The curtain closes, the light returns without warning and it breaks Ren out of his stupor. Still, he’s full of restless energy, nervous—like there’s some unseen threat, some important quest that he’s left uncompleted. The audience begins to file out much too slowly—and with the leisurely pace the wealthy always seem to take, like time is infinite and free to waste. Ren doesn't have the patience to wait, not when he feels like this.

“Stars, I hate the theatre,” General Hux mumbles under his breath as they stand by their seats, waiting for a break in the crowd, and it irks Ren, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Maybe you lack the culture needed to appreciate it,” he replies snidely, mostly to get a rise out of the general. Mostly. Regardless of his true intentions, the general is offended, and Ren allows himself a small smile over this little victory.

The audience trickles out of the theatre and after an eternity of waiting, Ren finally makes it into the spectacle that is the grand ballroom, but his eyes don’t rest on anything until he’s found you again.

He catches sight of you on the far end of the room with the other dancers, all out of your costumes from the performance and instead wearing dresses in varying pastel shades, looking more like confections or ornaments than trained professionals. The other girls, especially the younger ones, whisper and giggle nervously as they survey the crowd, but you do not participate, smiling good-naturedly but remaining still and silent. When he catches sight of you, the negative feelings inside collapse. He’s free again. He’s not sure how you’ve managed to hold that kind of power over him, but he doesn’t care about that now.

“That woman, with the dancers-” Hux interrupts Ren’s thoughts, gesturing in the direction Ren is already looking, not that he could tell, “is Lady Stadixe. I need to speak with her.” Ren reluctantly takes his eyes off of you to scope out the woman in question. She stands at your side, looking serious—and seriously irritated—shooting angry glances down the line of girls every so often to silence their giggling. Ren doesn’t have to search the minds of the other guests to know that Lady Stadixe plays a much greater role here at the Coruscant Ballet than some kind of handler for the performers. If the general needs to speak to her then she must know about the dealings that take place between her patrons—probably arranges them herself: a choreographer in more ways than one.

General Hux cuts through the crowd, around the edge of the dance floor and through the rest of the guests. Ren can feel his heartbeat build in his chest, the pulses becoming more rapid and more violent as he nears you. The crowd thins, and there’s an eruption of giggles from some of the younger dancers when they see him before Lady Stadixe quiets them with a sharp bark. A strange feeling arrives and he allows himself to sit with it only for a moment—he wishes he weren't such a spectacle, wishes he could approach you like any other man, wishes to be without the reputation, the title. It's only for a moment, but Ren thinks he would kill to be someone else right now if it meant he could take you by the hand.

“Lady Stadixe, allow me to introduce myself,” General Hux begins, greeting the lady with a slight bow, “I am General Hux of the First Order, and this is Commander Ren.” Ren nods in response, out of habit, but his eyes stay on you and he’s terrified to find that you’re returning his gaze through the mask, even if you may not know it. You're prettier up close, he thinks, and your eyes are alight with good humor, but he can't pay attention to any of that because—when you look at him—he's sure that no mask could stop you from seeing everything.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Lady Stadixe responds, her tone curt even if her words are polite, “allow me to introduce you to my dancers.” She gestures down the line and you all curtsy in unison, bowing deep and low to the ground, but you keep your eyes on him, a trace of a smile on your lips. Ren has no idea what you’re thinking, his own nerves interrupting each time he tries to reach out to you through the force, but he continues his attempts anyways, desperate and desperately curious. Your smile is maddening, a secret in its own right, and he finds himself unable to decipher it. A first.

“This is our principal dancer, and the lead for tonight’s production,” Stadixe says as you rise, and you offer your hand to the general first before extending it to Ren. He wants to take it, he wants it very badly, but he’s found that his limbs aren’t obeying his commands, not when you’re looking at him like that.

“It’s a pleasure,” you say, before dropping your hand with a little stutter at his refusal, smoothing it over your skirt to make the movement more natural. You smirk, just slightly, before glancing at the other dancers, looking back at him when you say, “ I’ve never met a force user before.” Giggling breaks out again, and Ren isn’t sure if it’s at his expense or not, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Not if you’re going to keep talking about him.

He should respond, say something, but he can’t think, and he’s petrified at the idea that he might say something stupid. Ren can’t risk it, not in a moment like this, not when he so desperately wants for you to like him. Unfortunately, that gives General Hux a chance to fill the silence.

“I’ve found that they aren’t terribly impressive,” Hux replies, and the bitterness is unmistakable, but it only serves to amuse you more, your smile growing wider, and you trap your tongue between your teeth in an attempt to curb any errant laughter. Ren finds it very difficult to resist the urge to throw the general into a wall. He finds it more difficult to resist the urge to run his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I heard they can read minds,” you fix your eyes onto the general with a steady look, leaning in a little closer as you challenge his words, and the girls behind you mumble to each other more seriously. Even Lady Stadixe seems intrigued now, tuned in to the conversation enough that she doesn’t bother to quiet the others. He feels like a creature in a zoo, some grotesque thing for the others to ogle at, but not to you. He may be mistaken, but he thinks you might actually be defending him.

“Yes, he can,” Hux admits with some reluctance, and the space fills with bright, flaring anxiety as those closest search their most recent thoughts, terrified of what Ren might have learned during this short conversation. None of them need to worry—not that he can explain that right now—the only thoughts he’s interested in are yours.

“Sounds impressive to me.” Some of the other girls nod in agreement, and you sear the general with another challenging stare. Hux shrinks slightly, unable to completely control the sneer that threatens to take over his face, and turns to address Lady Stadixe again, a silent acceptance of his defeat.

“Is he always this quiet?” One of the younger girls interrupts before the general can speak, unwilling to let the novelty of Ren’s presence die, and he fills with dread.

“No,” Hux responds, and he actually sounds surprised as he turns his gaze to Ren, his eyes cold and calculating. He knows, Ren can feel it, and he’s eager for revenge for the snide comment Ren made earlier, as well as a million other things Ren had not come to regret until this moment. Hux turns back deliberately, leaning in a little ways before he speaks, but he makes sure to be loud enough for every one of the dancers to hear, “normally he never shuts up. I can’t imagine what’s changed.”

The general’s stare is pointed as he appraises you with his eyes, his gaze roaming from your head to your feet and back, and he quirks one brow to emphasize his point. Everyone takes notice, some of the girls squealing with laughter when they realize what he means, and you look at him wide eyed before you turn your gaze to the ground, a blush spreading across your cheeks. Ren wishes he had thrown the general into a wall when he had the chance. He still thinks he might, but there’s nothing he can do to salvage this moment now.

Hux seems satisfied with the chaos he’s caused, and he stands up straighter, adjusting his gloves before turning back to address Lady Stadixe, “If I may, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you in private,” and Stadixe nods, gesturing for Hux to follow her into a far corner away from listening ears. Ren turns to go as well, glad for a chance to escape this living hell in the form of  giggling girls, but Hux pauses, turning to face him again.

“Why don’t you stay here with the dancers, Ren, while I speak to Lady Stadixe,” he says, his eyes alight with a vicious delight, “I’m sure you’ll find some way to entertain yourself.”

Ren stops, hoping to quash any embarrassment he might feel with pure rage. He’s already planning which parts of the Finalizer he would tear into first when he returned, thinking about what would anger the general the most. By the time he’s done, Hux would regret everything about tonight.

“Did you enjoy the show, Commander Ren?” He hears you speak behind him, and it pulls him away from his thoughts, back to the embarrassment he felt so strongly earlier. He turns, and manages a nod, keenly aware of the delight in the eyes of every single dancer down the line, all listening avidly to your conversation . . . if you could call it that.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to speak,” you say quietly, stepping a little closer in an attempt to make your chat a private one, and you lower your voice so that only he can hear, “I don’t mind filling the silence. Besides, Lady Stadixe gets very cross if she feels that we’re not keeping our guests entertained; I’m sure you understand?” He nods again, relaxing into your presence, and the other girls slowly lose interest, choosing instead to search the ballroom for other sources of entertainment. Without the watching eyes of the other girls, and the damn general around—Ren feels like he might actually be able to say something to you, might be able to tell you exactly how much he enjoyed your performance, how talented he thinks you are. How beautiful he thinks you are.

"I hate to interrupt-" The voice comes from Ren's right, and he looks to its source, finding a snide-looking man beside him, who reaches for your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers, "I was hoping that you might favor me with a dance."

"Of course." It only takes you a moment before you agree graciously, and Ren is crushed, foolishly hoping that you would refuse in favor of staying with him even though he’s given you no reason to do that. You flash him an apologetic smile as you're whisked away to the dance floor, and the disappointment is prolonged. There was so much he wanted to say to you, and now he'll never get the chance.

The man leads you to the dance floor at the center of the room, a possessive hand placed at your waist. There's jealousy spreading through the room—not only his, but others as well—permeating the space like an oil slick, other young men who had not been brave enough to interrupt your moment with Ren redirecting their anger to your new companion.

"His name is Erichar Kempmont." Ren had not noticed the return of Lady Stadixe, but she stands at his side now, without the general, speaking with the quiet nature of someone used to dealing in secrets, "he is the wealthiest of the girl's suitors."

Ren doesn't respond, his mouth growing dry. Suitors. Multiple. Of course. He should have known. Should have expected it from the beginning, but his vision had been clouded by his desire, by your smile.

"She is very talented, of course," Lady Stadixe continues, her eyes trained on you with impenetrable focus, "but talent alone will not sustain her forever. She'll need security, someone to take care of her when her career has finished. That is something I have promised to provide for her, and I do not break those promises." She glares at Ren, staring him down despite her small stature, waiting for him to issue some kind of challenge. He doesn't.

"Stay away from her," she finishes with some uncertainty; he's unnerved her with his lack of a response. Ren should leave her like this, let her believe what she wants, but the order she's given him leaves him simmering with anger.

"Are you threatening me?" he asks quietly, and the words growl out through his vocoder, leaving her shaking.

"So you do speak," she replies, trying to hide her fear with feigned indifference, "it would be foolish of me to threaten someone like you, of course. But you could consider it a warning."

Lady Stadixe departs just in time for Ren to watch another man ask you for a dance, and his jaw tightens. What business did that woman have telling you what to do? In trying to control him? The anger refuses to dissipate, forming tight and firm deep in his chest.  

"There you are," it's the general who interrupts him this time, looking rather flustered, his eyes searching the room skittishly, "There's one more person I need to speak to, and then we can leave this awful place."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ren asks, his leftover irritation from his conversation with Lady Stadixe mingling with brand new irritation at the general. "I thought I was meant to entertain myself?"

Hux flushes with annoyance at Ren's stubbornness, his pale skin becoming marred by red splotches. He feels no remorse for it; the general has earned much more of Ren's difficult behavior after tonight—he'll have to get used to it.

"This person I'll be meeting with," Hux explains through gritted teeth, "is notoriously . . .  difficult. I'm concerned that they might try to run. Make yourself useful and guard the exit. I'm sure she won't miss you in your absence." Hux gestures vaguely to the dance floor and scowls before he departs, disappearing into the crowd again.

Ren moves toward the doors with steady-minded determination. There's nothing left for him here anyways; your time for the rest of the night has been claimed, it seems, by the suitors Lady Stadixe had been so kind to point out. He'll wait for the general in the foyer until he's done with his ridiculous meetings and he'll forget about the ballet completely. He won't think about the way the light reflected in your eyes as you danced. Won't picture the way you moved like all music was created for you to give it meaning. Wouldn't imagine what it would be like to hold you in his arms.

Gods, he’s being juvenile. Was a pretty smile and a few kind words all it took for him to lose his mind? He's only known that you existed for a few hours, only held your attention for a few minutes and it has him acting completely deranged.

Moonlight pours through the windows of the foyer, which has been left dark now that the guests have all been moved into the ballroom. The room is larger and colder than he remembers it, and somehow made emptier by his presence. He waits, observing the room without much interest, only vaguely aware of the passage of time, marked by the change in the music as it spills in from the gaps in the ballroom doors, muted by distance. It’s only after three, maybe four songs, that he notices that something else has changed: the faintest hint of light is escaping beneath the theatre doors on the other side of the foyer.

Ren knows that he should stay where he is and watch for the general, but he's overcome with uncharacteristic curiosity when he senses you behind those closed doors. Part of him would like to walk away, to ignore you as the lady had encouraged. Another part of him knows that he might not like what he would see if he chose to enter the theatre; maybe you were not alone, if one of your many suitors had brought you there for a second away from prying eyes. He ignores both of the competing voices, opening the door as quietly as possible, peering into the room beyond.

You are alone, he finds, and on the stage, moving without music, dancing without seeing, your eyes shut tight to the empty seats. Even without the audience, the accompaniment, the costume, or the lights, you perform with the same rigor you had before, and Ren is mesmerized all over again. Somehow, even after your stellar performance earlier in the evening, you seem to push yourself harder: jumping higher, spinning faster, your movements more precise and powerful than Ren can begin to comprehend.

You finish your routine, center stage, your head down and your breathing hard and fast from the exertion. Ren is careful not to make a sound, terrified of interrupting your moment, but when you look up, your eyes find him immediately—as if you knew he was there all along. A few different emotions flash across your face, but embarrassment is the one that sticks, and you drop your eyes to the floor again, folding in on yourself.

"How long have you been here?" You speak quietly, but your voice carries all the way to the back of the theatre. This is it, Ren finally has his chance to speak to you, alone.

"Not long," his words are too stilted, his voice too menacing for his liking, but you aren't disturbed by it, and so he continues, "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No need to worry about that," you say, hopping lightly from the stage, walking slowly up the aisle towards him, "I should probably return to the party now. I just needed a quick break. Too many watchful eyes in the ballroom; I'm sure you understand." Ren does understand the feeling, although he’s not sure why its one you would share.

"I thought you might be used to watching eyes, as a performer." You're inching ever closer, one row of seats at a time, and each step tightens the vice grip at his heart, restricting his ability to breathe in the most pleasant kind of fashion.

"It's different-" you say with a nod towards the doors and the ballroom beyond, "in there. I always know what's expected of me on stage, what they're looking for, what I can do. It's . . . not the same everywhere else. Sometimes I need an escape."

Stars, it's like you're inside his head, pulling the words out and placing them in your own mouth. He knows exactly how you feel.

"Do you ever get an escape?" You've finally reached him, your lips curving humorously around your whispered words. The small amount of space between your bodies feels solidified, heavy even, the pressure of your presence almost as enticing as the pressure of your touch. He knows he should not feel this way, but his body and mind are on two different planes right now. 

"No, I don't," he says, and you smile sadly, always smiling, as your tongue runs smoothly over your parted lips.

"Can you breathe without it?” Your hands creep up into his line of sight, and you gesture to the mask. All he can manage is a subtle nod of his head, trying to remain composed when every part of him is threatening to combust at the feeling of your fingers searching around the edge of the helmet, flexing slightly when you find the releases. He closes his eyes as you tug the item over his head, unwilling to admit that he’s afraid of what you might feel when you see his face.

“That’s much better,” you say, and he lets his eyes open, allows himself to study you for the first time without the mask. “Would you consider this an escape?” You set the mask down on the seat next to you, and it stares up at him expectant, waiting.

“I would,” he doesn’t like the way his voice sounds now, without the vocoder to mask the lingering emotion behind the two words. It feels like a confession, like a weakness, and he hates that part of himself almost as much as he wants you.

“I know lots of ways to escape,” you say, apparently ignorant to his inner turmoil, “would you like to know my favorite?” You won’t meet his eyes, staring at your fingers instead, which you brush over the material of his sleeve, and the feeling leaves a trail of unraveling nerves in its wake. You can’t be suggesting what he thinks you’re suggesting. This is some kind of fever dream. There’s no way that you would want him the same way that he wants you.

“Yes,” his reply is deep and breathless, but it brings that smile back to your face, and you look up at him again, your other hand curling gently around his neck, your touch feather-light and fragile. The theatre fades away into nothingness—Ren can only think about the space between your mouth and his that shrinks infinitesimally, your movement spanning hours, days, aeons. He doesn’t care. You’re so close.

The blaster shot throws time back to a normal speed and you startle, jumping in his arms before you stagger back away from him, searching for the source of the noise that’s immediately followed by screams. You look at him only for a moment before you both run to the doors, Ren grabbing his helmet first and replacing it over his head, no time to mourn the loss of your touch.

Guests pour out of the ballroom doors, tripping over each other in their finery, ignoring the ripped hems and lost shoes as they force their way to safety. You’re almost swept up by the crowd, but Ren holds you back, one arm wrapped securely around your waist and your fingers push tiny bruises into his skin underneath his uniform as you search desperately through the crowd, trying to spy a hint of your friends, anyone you might recognize who could explain what you had missed.

“Ren!” The general calls out, breaking free of the crowd and forcing his way to the far wall. If he has anything to say about Ren’s absence from the foyer, or your presence here with him, he doesn’t share it, running a gloved hand through his hair, forcing it back after it had been jostled out of place by the stampeding crowd, “we need to leave. Now.”

 “Please, what happened?” you wrestle yourself out of Ren’s grasp, grabbing the general by the arm with desperation, “we heard the shot, is everyone alright?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t see it.” It’s obvious that Hux is lying, to you and Ren both, but there’s no chance for either of you to confront him, because he’s headed towards the doors again, pulling Ren along with him. Ren turns back—maybe to see if you’re alright, maybe to bring you with him, out of harm's way—he’s not exactly sure, but the press of the crowd is too strong and too fast; he’s hardly able to think before he’s lost sight of you. He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

[sassyratyuki]

Just One Picture

Pairing: Kyoru | Rating: G | Words: ~1600

AO3 | FF.net

Summary: In which Tohru buys a cat onesie for their son and Kyo can't find it in himself to hate it. Post-manga spoilers

I saw an ask a while ago from @kyosohmastan talking about a headcanon that Tohru buys cat onesies for Kyo and Hajime. I loved the idea, so I wrote it lol

~

Kyo sits on the floor of the living room, back pressed against the side of the sofa, as he waits for his wife to get home from her shopping trip.

His eyes flicker from the television, which he's not really paying attention to, to his son playing on the floor in front of him, several toys strewn about. Hajime sits with his chubby toddler legs outstretched as he tries to force a triangle-shaped block into a square hole.

Usually he would let his son figure it out on his own, but after about the tenth attempt, Kyo decides to step in.

He carefully grabs Hajime's tiny wrist, guiding the block to the right place. He puts it so the hand holding the block is hovering over the triangular shaped hole, perfectly aligned.

"It's right here, Hajime, see?" he tells him, and let's go of his hand.

Kyo sees Hajime's little forehead scrunch in confusion as his son looks back to the square hole. Kyo sees Hajime's hand waiver a bit, wanting to go back and keep trying to cram the triangle block in the wrong place until he somehow succeeds.

Kyo can't help but laugh at his son's stubbornness; it's like looking in a mirror after all. Eventually Hajime slowly puts the block in the right place.

Kyo lets out a triumphant whoop and claps. Hajime begins clapping his little hands together as he copies his father, before Kyo picks him up and tosses him in the air a bit. Both father and son are smiling contagious grins when Kyo comes to rest Hajime on his hip. Kyo kisses the top of his head before praising how smart he is in a goofy voice. He squishes Hajime's pudgy cheek for good measure.

Sometimes Kyo wonders how his son has made him so willing to do such silly things, things he never thought he would ever do before, but he quickly found out after Hajime was born that he would do anything to make his baby laugh.

The squeal of delight that comes from Hajime lodges it's way into Kyo's heart, and it strikes Kyo again how much he loves this tiny human. This tiny human he and Tohru made, and he realized a long time ago he would do anything for.

Sometimes the love he feels is a little overwhelming, especially because Kyo never knew he would ever be able love anything as much as he loves his family. Never having a loving family himself, he'd been a tad scared he wouldn't know how to be a good parent. But that fear was put to rest as soon as he held Hajime for the first time at the hospital. He knew he would never be able to do anything other than love and protect his baby for as long as he's able.

Any thoughts of his own parents' failures were buried deep in the back of his mind. They simply didn't matter anymore, because he knows the love he has for his family is unconditional and that would never change.

And Kyo can't wait to see how their family's love will continue to grow.

Kyo sighs with a content smile on his face. He ruffles his son's orange hair before setting him back down with his toys.

Just as Hajime moves to pick up another block, the sound of the door unlocking catches both of their attention.

The door opens and Tohru makes her way through the threshold, one hand holding two bags and the other fiddling to lock the door as she shuts it behind her.

Hajime shouts "Mama!" and tries his best to stand up to greet her, only to fall back down to his hands and knees, settling on crawling to where she stands by the entry way.

Kyo stands as well as his wife hangs her keys on a hook and kneels down to their son. He makes his way over to the two of them.

Tohru grins as she picks up Hajime. "Well hello my beautiful boy!" she tells him, placing kisses all over his face as he giggles.

Tohru settles him on her hip as she turns her head toward Kyo. "And hello my beautiful husband," she laughs softly as Kyo greets her with a light kiss on the lips.

"Hello to you too," Kyo says back, cheeks a bit pink. "Did you find everything you needed?"

Tohru smiles. "And more!"

"Well that's good," Kyo replies, and for a moment, just takes in the picture of his wife holding their son. Motherhood suits Tohru so well, and while Kyo knows both he and his wife have their flaws, he often wonders how they manage to make their family feel so close to perfect.

"Let me take those bags," Kyo offers, gesturing to the shopping bags still hanging from Tohru's arm.

"Thank you, Kyo," she says, "You can just put them on the table. I'll get to them in a minute."

Tohru then goes to sit down, her son in her lap as she leans her head against the back of the sofa.

Kyo places the bags on the table as he was asked, about to go join his family before something in one of the bags catches his eye.

He runs his hand over the soft orange material before holding it up to see what it is.

He squints. "Um, Tohru, what is this?"

Tohru looks up. "Oh!" she exclaims before getting up and making her way towards Kyo, Hajime still in her arms.

"That was part of the 'and more'!" she tells him, sitting Hajime on the table and taking the piece of clothing from Kyo.

She turns it around in her hands. "It's a little toddler cat onesie! I saw it and thought of you. It was just so cute, I had to get it for Hajime!"

Without missing a beat or paying attention to Kyo's bemused expression, Tohru lays their son down on the table and does her best to wrestle him into the onesie.

When she's finally done, she picks Hajime up and pulls the hood up onto his head. Little cat ears poke up from the hood, and Kyo can see a little tail coming from the back.

"Doesn't he look adorable! Just like Daddy." Tohru says, placing a kiss on Hajime's cheek.

Kyo wishes he could dislike it. After everything he went through being the zodiac cat, after all the bullying, ridicule, and exile from his own family, one would think he would have absolutely no love for anything with any association to cats.

And yet, despite all of the bad memories, all Kyo can think about when he looks at his son dressed as a cat, is how his wife saw the onesie and only thought of how cute it was. She wasn't thinking of the bad memories, only the good ones. She said it reminded her of him... and it wasn't a bad reminder in the way the other Sohma's may have seen it, but a happy one.

Kyo ignores the burning behind his eyes as he's reminded of Tohru's ability to find good in almost everything; one of the many reasons why he loves her.

And Kyo has to admit it, his son does look absolutely adorable in it.

Kyo laughs softly as he puts his arm around Tohru's shoulder and kisses her cheek. "I'd say that was a pretty good buy. He looks really cute."

"Really?" Tohru asks, "You think so?"

Kyo nods and Tohru immediately jerks her chin in the direction of the second bag.

"I'm so glad you say that, because I actually got one for you too."

Hold on. "Wait what?" Kyo looks into the other bag, finding another piece of orange clothing, but this time it's much bigger.

"Yeah!" Tohru says, "They had the same onesie in an adult size and I couldn't say no to the sign from fate that I just had to get both."

Kyo raises his eyebrows. "You want me to wear it?" he asks incredulously.

Tohru giggles. "Oh come on, Kyo. It'll be so cute," she cups his face with the hand not holding Hajime, "Just like your kitty cat form was so cute."

When Kyo starts to shake his head, words beginning to spill from his mouth, Tohru interrupts. "Even if it's just one picture with you holding Hajime. Just one picture for us to have for our family. No one ever has to know but us. Pleeeeaaaase?"

Kyo bites his lip at her pleading, though he knows she's really just messing with him. He can see it in her grin. But he also knows she really does want a picture of both him and their son dressed as cats.

He sighs internally, giving in. Where's the harm really?

"Yeah okay. Just one picture, though, Tohru. That's it."

She picks up the onesie from where Kyo had dropped it back in the bag. She smiles even brighter. "That's all we need!"

She kisses him on the cheek before handing the piece of clothing to him. "Go change so we can get this one picture," she mocks him kind-heartedly.

He kisses her back before taking the onesie. "Anything for you," he tells her, over-dramatically. "But I get the feeling you already knew that."

She giggles as he goes to change.

She sighs with a grin on her face as Kyo exits the room. She boops Hajime's nose with her finger before moving the same hand to her stomach.

"Daddy's so silly, isn't he?" Tohru says and she thinks of the other infant-size cat onesie she left in the car, a gift she can't wait to surprise Kyo with for Father's Day in a couple of weeks.

She smiles tenderly down at her belly, still flat enough no one could possibly know of the newest little Sohma growing there.

"I can't wait until we can all be silly together."

[deadinsidedressage]

Boarding Update: New Digs & Lessons Learned 

Well, November to early December was an interesting time for Mitzy and I. 

Out of the blue one night during the beginning of Nov, my (now former) BO came up to me and told me I needed to find new boarding for my horse. That was a massive shock to me as my understanding of how our time there had been going didn’t give any indication we had anything remotely close to an issue. I’d not personally had any issues handling my horse and hadn’t heard of anything from the BO about her or her husband having a contrary experience. I had also explicitly written into my boarding contract that I wanted to be told of any difficulties in handling her so that I could address those in my training sessions with her. I had asked on countless occasions “Oh, how has Mitzy been for you guys?” and been told resoundingly how great she was.  /dnr

To then be told my horse was no longer welcome and that she’d reportedly been dangerous to handle was a huge slap to the face. I could hardly form a coherent thought at the time but did ask “How long has this been going on and why wasn’t I told earlier?”. Well I get a “We don’t tell boarders every little thing that their horse does” as a response before she launches into how apparently my horse was also destroying fences. I’m out there nearly daily, at least 6 days a week, and had never seen the fences in a state of disrepair. Maybe the chicken wire was bowed out a little, but that’s about it. Again, I ask how long has this been happening and why wasn’t I told. Allegedly “the whole time” and she’s tired of “fixing things my horse breaks”. If my horse was dangerous, I should be told immediately. Considering I’ve not had any issues leading my horse or handling my horse I’m not sure what I would’ve done to “fix” the behavior but I would’ve done something. Even if that something was only offering myself to personally do turnout for her. If my horse is damaging fences to such an extent, I should be told. I would’ve been happy to pay for fence repairs & offer my labor as well. 

The more information I try to get the more the picture is coming together of my horse not being the issue (thank God). “Well you know how difficult she is to halter”--- no, my horse self-halters. “You know how she can be”--- no, I know my horse to be extremely easy to handle on the ground for a 2 year old. “Well since Fendi freaks out, she’s been galloping around, rearing, and bucking when it’s time to go in for dinner and she reared up on my husband when he tried to halter her today since I grab Fendi so he can get Mitzy and bring her in at the same time”--- your not a horse person husband is who has to go and get a 2 year old who is amped up by another frantic horse? After you’ve assured me that you or the girl in your employ would be the people to handle my horse since I was concerned about that? That seemed like a sound idea in your head?

I can’t discount the fact that all it takes for a situation to be unsafe is for the handler to feel it’s unsafe. If they’ve decided my horse is dangerous for them to handle then it doesn’t matter how she handles for myself, my friends, or experienced horse people. She’s dangerous for them. She self-halters if you stand at her side, but sure she’ll freak out if you come head on. She’s extremely easy to handle, but if she spooks it’s big and you need to not get scared of that. Or if she’s being feisty you just need to be confident in shutting it down and know how to handle a hot horse. She’s a 2 year old decently hot WB who recently shot up in size, it doesn’t matter how comparably easy she is to other 2 year old WBs if you’ve never handled one before. 

So, knowing I couldn’t necessarily get her out immediately I offered a few solutions. A) Keep her stalled 24/7 until she moves or B) I can take her out in the morning and bring her in at night. “Keeping her in won’t fix her attitude.” Oh... so there’s the rub. There’s a fundamental misunderstanding in how we view horses and handling them. It’s not just unsafe for you to handle my horse because she’s big and you’re unfamiliar with hotter types, you believe in dominance theory and will hurt yourselves thinking you can be more stubborn than a 1200lb horse. Well, I can bring her in and out then. “She’s only a problem in the evenings.” Okay... well I will have her back in her stall everyday by this time. “I mean if you’re there that’s fine, but we can take her in.” ...Is this a horse you’ve labeled dangerous or is it not? Are you not kicking us out because you don’t think she’s safe to handle or not? 

Well... luckily I secure new boarding pretty quickly but unfortunately it takes 3 weeks to move her. Not because that’s when the stall was open but because I’ve never had the opportunity to trailer train my horse. Takes three weekends of trying to get her in a trailer, hiring a shipper so we can get a bigger trailer, some dorm gel to take the edge off, and a literal crew of people to essentially walk her in a foot at a time. In the meantime, before the stars aligned and she finally went in a trailer, I am bringing my horse in before dinner and dealing with increasingly hostile behavior from my (now former) BO and some of the other boarders! 

The whole situation has been absolutely bonkers to me because when I shipped her up to this facility I was under the impression that the BO was confident handling young horses. For the longest time everyone would love on her whenever they saw her, always calling her “the baby”, and the BO’s husband in particular would “smuggle” treats to her throughout the day (encouraged by me honestly). Retroactively, I can now see that at the point my horse sprouted up about a hand and had gained a deal more fitness from all her in-hand work... suddenly she was avoided like the plague. I also don’t understand why at no point was I told they had concerns handling my horse, especially around dinner time. I would not cared if my horse came in an hour early everyday so that they didn’t have to compete with the other horse that’s problematic to bring in. Which personally would’ve been the solution that was apparent to me as someone who has worked at a few barns. I also don’t understand how the horse who is a little too hyped up being brought in at dinner is somehow a worse horse to board than the _other _horse who gets crazy at dinner but also needs to be hobbled every single night so she can be stalled (otherwise she does her best to literally bring the walls down). If you’ve found a solution for that horse’s issues (bringing her in first & then hobbling her) then why is there no solution for my horse? 

Had I know my horse was being handled by the BO’s husband at a point where her behavior is likely to be less than predictable I wouldn’t have been okay with it. I would’ve volunteered myself to bring her in if it wasn’t possible to simply have them bring her in early. I’d already repeatedly asked to know when the BO was gone at a show so I could bring my horse in from turnout because I did not trust a non-horse person with my 2 year old. No matter how well behaved I think she is, she needs someone who knows horses. 

As far as issues with other boarders, they certainly was a contingency of people who seemed to purposefully slam the crossties into the wall when I was in the arena because it would spook my horse. Or similarly see that something was spooking my horse, make eye contact with me, and keep doing it. One woman very plainly made anything she did take about 3 times longer and be 10 times louder than normal if I was trying to work my horse. Notably suddenly choosing to pick out her horse’s paddock (the barn doesn’t do that and I was the only person who they’d ever had who’d asked if they could do that) while I was having some success loading & making such a ruckus that we lost all progress we’d been making. Was it everyone at the barn? No, but there were a few people being very pointed in their behavior and I think it legitimately came down to ye olde Western vs. English superiority complex. Since clearly I should be punished for my 2 year old not being dead quiet like all the semi-retired Quarter Horses. 

I think honestly, that’s the entire problem of why we ran into this. This was never a boarding facility I intended to work long-term, I wanted to move Mitzy in the Spring to the barn she’s at now... but I think it ended prematurely comes down to the discipline clash. I think the BO, her family, and the boarders who are her personal friends just have extremely different expectations for how a 2 year old should behave than what I do and what the people I work for do. It’s still standard for AQHA/APHA/AHC to not only have horses under saddle at 2, but to be in a pretty rigorous show schedule (futurities require horses to be started at 18mo). A lot of people think TBs/QHs/QH types mature “faster” than other breeds. The way I’ve learned to regard young horses and the industry standard I accept for starting young horses doesn’t view 2 year olds as adults. Nor are 3 year olds treated to the same stanard as say an 8 year old. Do I absolutely expect basic ground manners and developing in-hand skills? Yes, but I also anticipate 2-4 year olds to be unpredictable! So I’m never surprised when they try to jump out of their skin when a leaf falls too close to them. 

I am trying to see this as a learning experience and I think what I’ve learned from this is you really, really need to be compatible in your approach to expectations and handling as your boarding facility (no matter how temporary you plan for that situation to be). There are a lot of glaring issues with the magic of hindsight that point to this being an inevitable conclusion. I am really glad with where she’s at now! She’s at a dressage training/lesson barn that she’ll go into the program there once she starts under saddle. For now I’m just happy to be at a place where I can relax and enjoy my horse again--- plus I can take lessons at

[army-of-mai-lovers]

hello arthur!! tbh people are being terrible in your inbox and the last ask killed my brain cells so this is your free bingo card to talk about anything you like. also sometimes googling sharks with human teeth (exactly what it sounds like) helps!! much love <3

oh my gosh I’m OBSESSED with these photos they’re so cute!!!! and thank you for the bingo card Effie I appreciate it so much. I’m gonna rant about Deadly Class (a show I definitely don’t like and thus don’t run a fan blog for....smh) bc it’s on my mind and it looks like it’s just going to go quietly into that good night instead of being made fun of and dissected and I think that should change bc goodness gracious that show does not deserve a dignified death. also I’m gonna put this rant under a readmore bc this is gonna be long and it has nothing to do w atla. warnings for discussions of racism, callous mentions of murder and death, swearing, discussion of Nazis, discussion of gore, abuse ment

Okay so for those not in the know (which is probably everyone considering the show was on Syfy and it’s being canceled due to low viewership) Deadly Class is a teen murder drama set in the late ‘80s starring Lana Condor, which makes it sound like it was engineered in a lab to appeal to me. Literally my friend and I were in the middle of watching Schitt’s Creek, which I adore, and she was like “well I heard about this show called Deadly Class” and described it and I was like fuck Schitt’s Creek we’re watching this. It had a 64% on Rotten Tomatoes, which usually makes me nervous, but I was literally like “I don’t care because I know I’m going to love it.” 

And well. I did not love it. 

I truly do not understand how one fucks up “teenagers (mostly) of color go to murder boarding school in the late ‘80s” that bad (I mean the Russo brothers are involved and they fuck up everything they touch so perhaps it was just that). I haven’t read the comic the show is based on but it does appear that a *lot* of the issues of the show stem from the comic, which is...disappointing. Basically, our MC, Marcus, starts off the show homeless after his group home burned down (and it’s heavily implied that he was the one to do it) and gets hunted down by these elite teenage murderers who invite them to their murder school. 

Already, numerous problems are starting to show themselves. First of all, Marcus is Latino, which, yes, it’s very cool that the MC is Latino, except he is literally the white-passingest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen my dad. I didn’t realize that he was Latino until they showed his extremely stupid backstory in a shitty animated sequence and whoever was voicing his dad did this really, really thick Nicaraguan accent and I was like wait a damn minute. So then, I looked it up, and the guy playing Marcus is named Benjamin Wadsworth, which immediately made me think that they had pulled a Noah Centineo and made me think this fully white actor was half Latino (and yes, Latinos can be white, but I think Marcus is supposed to be a nonwhite Latino, and I thought Benjamin Wadsworth was both white and non-Latino). But you know, as an light skinned ethnically ambiguous mixed kid myself, I thought I owed it to him to dig a little deeper, and turns out our pal Ben is mixed (also, he’s like six months older than me and married, which is a trip). And like, okay, I guess I’m glad they didn’t get a white non-Latino man to play a Latino character, but they literally got the whitest looking Latino they could think of to play him. He originally auditioned for Billy. Billy’s the token white. And the producers were like “wait you have Latino ancestry?” (how they found that out I don’t fucking know) and let him go for Marcus. And like. Okay. The character in the comics is light-skinned but he does not look white, and Benjamin is not a good enough actor for them to just pass on the actors who surely auditioned for that role and were more visibly Latino but like. Okay, I guess. 

Second of all, this show is mega racist and it starts to reveal itself when you look at how the murder kids are styled in literally their first appearance. What struck me the most was the fact that the Latina (whose name is fucking Maria, for heaven’s sake) was wearing a sexy red dress and Day of the Dead makeup, which, I’m sorry, huh? That just so happens to be the Mexican girl’s murder outfit? I’ve tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and speculate that maybe she wears it to like, subvert people’s expectations, but at this point idk how this is subverting anyone’s expectations nor why she’d be so invested in that. Also, she’s supposed to be a teenager. It’s fucked up to sexualize any of your child characters but it really hits different when it’s your Latina character (and yeah, I know the actress playing Maria isn’t a teenager, but still, it’s the principle of the thing). And then of course, the Black guy, Willie (no he’s not related to Billy they were just like yeah two guys with rhyming names in our main cast sounds legit) is a gangbanger dude who talks the way that white people think Black people talk. I keep waiting for this guy to have one line that’s not complete garbage, but I’m five episodes deep and so far nada, which sucks so bad because there’s like, kernels of an interesting character buried in this horrible racist trope. Also, they had him sleep with a N*zi. I hate it here. Lana Condor (her character’s name is Saya) gets off fairly okay, at least in this first shot (they don’t have her wearing a kimono to go murder people, thank fuck), but the way she behaves is super weird, like kinda flirty towards Marcus, kinda badass but not enough to actually do anything, etc. Billy’s white so they couldn’t make him a racist caricature or anything but I have no idea why he’s here. See, instead of talking about the real politics of the real world, Deadly Class makes up fake prejudice that honestly makes the lok bender/nonbender bullshit look sensible. Maria, Willie, and Saya are Legacies, which means that their families are established murderers (fun fact: the N*zi girl is also a Legacy, because her father murdered hundreds of civil rights activists. And the characters of color align themselves with her. I don’t understand.) Billy, and later Marcus when he decides to go to murder school, are Rats, meaning they have no affiliation with established murder groups. So, in this show, the people of color have privilege over the (mostly white) Rats. Make it make sense. Further, this means that Maria, Saya, and Willie should have absolutely no reason to hang out with Billy, and yet they do because the Russo brothers have heard that the kids these days like the found family trope, so they put five unlikely friends in a room together and insinuated that they could all be besties. I swear, this show is the La Croix of found family tho, in that there is absolutely no flavor whatsoever. None of the characters develop into a found family. Saya is bound to care for Marcus for reasons, Maria is using him, Willie is also using him, and Billy is only his friend because they’re both Rats. Saya and Maria are already friends (and honestly their friendship is the most compelling thing in the whole show). There are no other connections between the characters. But they’re totes a found family!!!!/s

Also, they don’t let Saya be mean. Every character says “oh Saya’s such a bitch” but do we ever see Saya being a bitch??? No! Saya is literally just a nice girl who is kinda quiet sometimes and murders people and has a tragic backstory. There’s an argument to be made for Maria being more bitchy than her tbh. And like, fine, if you want Saya to be nice, she can be nice, but stop telling me she’s mean then!!! If you’re gonna tell me that I’m gonna get to see mean Lana Condor in a leather jacket in this show then deliver bitch. 

There’s truly so much more I could talk about (Chico??? What the fuck is Chico’s arc???? What in the actual hell were they thinking when they were writing anything to do with Chico????? my DUDES WHAT IN THE SAM HELL. also making Billy straight was so fucking stupid he’s literally gay come on now, also Master Lin is so fucking useless what is he even doing here) but instead I’m going to outline the version of Deadly Class my friend and I have been talking about while we watch the inferior real Deadly Class. 

lots of things are the same actually because there are some elements of the show that have potential. Marcus is still homeless at the beginning, everybody still thinks he burned down the group home but he didn’t, Willie is still a pacifist, he and Marcus are still partners for their first murder school assignment, Saya’s mean (but like actually), Billy still has green hair and is the token white of the group (although a Billy of color.....thinking), and they all hate Reagan

in an ideal world Willie and Maria would have different names (Willie bc his name rhymes with Billy’s and that’s fucking stupid, also Willie is just a terrible name in general, Maria partially because it sounds way too similar to Marcus and I don’t understand why the guy who wrote this couldn’t make his characters have different sounding names, and partially because no Latina character of mine is going to be named fucking Maria), but for the purposes of this outline I’ll keep their names the same for clarity.

Marcus doesn’t initially have his rep. He’s on the streets when he sees a girl his age (Saya) come out of this elevator in the back of a restaurant brandishing a sword, and decides to go into the elevator, sees the stash of weapons, and decides to steal one so he can fend for himself better. 

also keeping the detail of Rory murdering a bunch of homeless kids, but now Marcus knows that Rory is actively hunting him down. 

in the process of robbing the school’s weapons collection, Marcus figures out that it’s a murder school

Master Lin catches Marcus robbing the school, they fight, Master Lin overpowers Marcus and ties him up. He says the weapons are for students only, and Marcus says he’s applying. Lin asks what his qualifications are, and Marcus says “you know that group home that burned down three months ago? all the kids that died? I started the fire.” 

(also no shade to Benjamin Wadsworth but in this version he is not playing Marcus. Marcus is not white-passing)

Master Lin initially doesn’t believe him, but Marcus presses on and eventually convinces Master Lin that this is really what happened, and so Lin welcomes him to murder school. 

Marcus’s first class is Poisons, and his lab partner is Billy, who takes a shine to him and shows him around school. There’s no Legacy/Rat nonsense, but you do have normal high school drama adapted slightly for murder school. Maria is the prettiest and most popular girl in school, Saya is the mean girl/valedictorian, Willie is the jock, and Billy’s the punky weirdo. 

Marcus is, of course, the new kid with a reputation to live up to. 

Things kind of fall apart when Willie and Marcus are paired up for an assignment: to seek revenge on somebody. 

also Willie’s backstory is extremely different. his dad was a Black Panther, and he was murdered by the FBI when Willie was a kid. distraught, his mom moved to Texas, where she started working a corporate job and rose really high in the ranks. To maintain her status in the company, she had to do some really horrible things, including working with the FBI to take down other civil rights activists. Willie found out about this and was absolutely horrified. his mother insisted she was doing this so that he could have a better life, but he refused to listen to her, and ran away, and ended up at murder school. 

Willie got into murder school because Lin knows who his mom is, and assumes that Willie is just as cutthroat as she is. he gains a reputation as well. 

also, Willie’s extremely wealthy, and this shows in the way he dresses (preppy jock vibes)

you don’t find out about this backstory for a minute tho bc unlike Albert Kim and the Russo Brothers, I can wait until the right opportunity presents itself for a backstory drop. 

ok anyway back to what I was saying earlier

they have to seek revenge on somebody. Marcus asks Willie if there’s anybody he wants revenge on, and Willie very sincerely says no. Marcus scoffs at him and says he’s clearly had a very easy life, to which Willie replies, “Well, who do you want revenge on?” 

Marcus immediately says, “Rory.” 

So they track Rory down, and since Marcus hasn’t actually killed anybody, he hands the weapons over to Willie. Willie frowns and says that he has nothing against this dude he’s never met before, so Marcus should be the one to hurt him. Marcus says that this is a group project and Willie’s got to pull his weight, and they get into an argument

the argument gets loud, and Rory hears them fighting and starts chasing them. 

in the midst of the chase, both of them divulge their secrets to one another. Willie laughs hysterically and says that they deserve each other bc they both lied to get where they are, and now they’re going to die because of it

Rory backs them into a corner, and Marcus uses one of the swords he tried to steal earlier to shank Rory

They throw the body in a dumpster, and after this, they’re friends, and Marcus decides he’ll fit right in at murder school. 

ok so that was only one episode but things to look forward to in the version of Deadly Class that only exists in me and my friend’s heads: Marcus dealing with the emotional and moral fallout of his first murder, Willie trying to figure out what it means to be a pacifist in a world so hellbent on doing violence towards him, Saya being mean to everyone except Maria, Maria convincing Saya to relax and have fun, the gang bonding in a Breakfast Club style situation adapted for murder school and making a joke about how this is like the Breakfast Club because it’s the 80s and the movie just came out, Saya and Maria falling in lesbians, Marcus and Saya being depressing edgelord besties, Billy being gay and fighting his abusive father, Marcus and Billy being uncool weirdo bffs, Willie and Maria rolling their eyes at Marcus and Saya’s cynicism, Billy coming out to Marcus and talking about his experiences being gay, which makes Marcus think “hang on, why do I relate to that?”, Willie seeing Marcus make a sarcastic comment about kissing a guy and having a crisis, Marcus and Willie falling in love, the gang taking a road trip to Vegas to murder Billy’s dad and giving Billy a gnc thrift store makeover on the way, and eventually the gang murdering the shit out of Ronald Reagan. 

[petroltogo]

Hello! Im not sure if asks are allowed? I didnt see anything about it (I didnt scroll that far.) but people doing requests.

I just wanted to say I read ur superhero AU and Im in love with it! Im intimated by your writing (Im trying to make something in the fandom-soon, hopefully) cuz like, its so amazing?? I also admire it, and aspire to get to get to that level one day!

I wanted to say thank you for writing it. I dont really read anything Varia related, and rarely 10th gen (Im mostly into the arco)! And also, any tips for writing? Writing in the khr world? Thank you for taking the time to read this, and Im sorry if Im intruding on ya, homie. Please have a pleasant day!

First of all, you’re not intruding, I love getting asks!! Asks are allowed, welcome and actively encouraged [unless it’s just to spew pointless hate, in which case it’s blocked] and thank you so much for sending me one! And for your super sweet words, I’m glad you enjoyed the super AU so thank you for letting me know and for the ego boost lol

Posting something you’ve written is a scary experience -- I’ve been doing it for years and I still keep second-guessing myself and putting things off and deciding not to write a fic idea because why would anyone want to read that, right? And that goes doubly so for any fandoms I haven’t written in before and established a ground-floor level confidence to build on. But it still gets easier the more often I do it. Moreover I’m not forcing anyone to read it, I’m just offering my fics up for anyone who’s interested in the fandom and wants to take a closer look.

And if more and more people keep on creating things in any one fandom, that means there’s more and more content to choose from for everyone. Which means we all win because we have more fics to read, more art to marvel at, more videos to watch, more whatever it is you wanna do -- we all have more of it to choose from, and with every person that joins in, the chance of any one of us finding exactly the kind of content they’re looking for increases.

So. I hope you will try your hand at creating and that you’ll find the courage to publish it if you’re comfortable with that. I wish you all the self-doubt-silencer in the world [ignore those voices, ignore them like I used to ignore my french homework!] because I guarantee you: Someone is gonna love what you make.

That said, to be completely honest [this could’ve been] a villain’s origin story is the first time I’ve played in the KHR world, so I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be since I’m not actually that familiar with the fandom. But in my experience the most important thing is just to have a story in mind that you want to share and to write the names of the characters correctly -- [on an unrelated note, I’m so sorry Kyoko but I’m still not sure how to spell yours] -- because at the end of the day, writing fanfic to me means sharing your perspective on the characters, your interpretation of them with the world.

And some people will decide it doesn’t align with their own views and will shrug and move on and some will fall in love with it because it will resonate with them or make them rethink the character or give them an insight they’ve never considered. I think that’s one of the most beautiful parts of fandom tbh.

Writing, hm, what can I tell you about writing. This is actually really tricky because I don’t know what type of story you’re trying to write so if there’s something specific you struggle with, feel free to drop me another ask!

But in general I’m a very character-oriented writer [as the super AU probably illustrates] so my tip is to always make your character’s voices count. Whether you write in first POV or in third POV, as long as it’s from the perspective of a specific character always use that too your full advantage. Use the limits that POV defines, use what the characters don’t know -- whether your audience knows or doesn’t know doesn’t matter -- to your advantage. 

For example: A conversation between Reborn and Skull in their early arcobaleno days. Reborn’s side of things might be full of double-meanings and hidden messages that he’s trying to get across while probing the cloud for the same sort of information and interpreting Skull’s expressions and reactions [in ways that may not be correct] because he’s mafia. Skull might take the exact same conversation at face value. He might miss all the implications, accidentally give Reborn the wrong impression about 23 random things and not notice and that single interaction could set the tone for their entire relationship going forward.

[Focusing on the limits of a character’s POV also helps keep interactions more realistic in my experience. Because when we interact with people, we don’t actually know what’s going on in their minds but as the authors writing that scene we do. The characters don’t and reflecting that in their interactions makes them seem realer and gives their personality (especially their personal biases and blinders and interpretations) more chance to shine through.]

And btw I don’t mean turn every conversation into a misunderstanding. Drama can be fun but it doesn’t always have to be about drama. I think of it more along the lines of “no two people ever read the same book”: No two people experience the exact same conversation or event the exact same way. That doesn’t mean we misunderstand each other daily, at least not necessarily. 

But there’s always things about an interaction with our friends/family/random strangers that we’ll forget or that we meant in a different way than what they take it for and sometimes we notice that while talking and sometimes we don’t. That’s how it can work with characters too: not every different perception has big repercussions or leads to an argument or whatever. Sometimes you can just use that to highlight that your characters are different people with different experiences [Skull is really a great example in this case and so are Colonnello and Lal Mirch vs the “true” mafia members but also maybe how being a mist might color your perception of reality vs being a sun etc.] and that those different backgrounds affect how they perceive and act and justify their behaviors.

Okay, I’m gonna stop here because this could go on for a while and I’m not even sure that’s what you’re looking for, but I hope it helps! [If it doesn’t, let me know if there’s other aspects of writing where I could help.] Happy weekend and (hopefully) happy writing!

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Thoughts on chapter #293 (AKA a very long post)

I made a post when chapter #292 came out and one person replied with "I love how everyone thinks that villain stans automatically agree with and condone the villains' actions". I don't think myself to be a villain stan, although I do love Horikoshi's villains, since they're all amazingly interesting characters. There are villains that I feel very compassionate to: Shigaraki, Dabi, Twice, Spinner and Toga. And I could instantly relate to Stain's philosophy, while being totally turned off by his actions. I don't think villain stans condone the violent actions of their favorite characters, I'm sorry if my previous post made people believe I do. But from the most recent releases I gathered that there is maybe a small fraction of villain stans that aren't really seeing the intricacies of the full picture. I don't mean this in a bad way: this is definitely the villains' time to shine and I know we were all waiting for the big Dabi-Endeavor showdown since theories were thrown around, so it's normal to be hyper-focused in what our favorite character is doing or what's happening with them. It's easy to forget that there are times and places where it's safe to show our compassion. I'm not gonna lie, I'm kinda annoyed that some villain stans seem to want the heroes to show compassion to Dabi right now, while they're in the middle of a battle that would decide the sorts of their society. Thanks to Dabi's speech, the civilian's faith in their "picture-perfect" system is crumbling (well, I hope so, because their society sucks on so many levels) and Best Jeanist, who was bashed for absolutely no reason all over Twitter last week, before the official translation was out, knew that that was Dabi's intention all along. Tōya could have told his own story right after Stain's video came out, if he so wanted. He chose to join the League, instead, because as we know now, he might have thought that he would have a better chance to kill Shōto, that way. I can't blame Tōya AT ALL for wanting and needing to see Endeavor, finally, rightfully, punished. However, Dabi throwing the compassion card around in the middle of a life-and-death situation (a situation where his main end-goal is to hurt people), is just peak manipulation...

... Which is awesome for a villain!

It's less awesome if you're standing on the Heroes' side and you're hearing about all the years of abuse that a colleague of yours put his family through, for the first time. I want to note that not a single Hero, till now, has said that they do not believe Dabi (not that I recall, at least). I saw one comment on Tumblr saying they didn't like that Best Jeanist used the word "dirty laundry", the chapter before, but I don't think the Hero said it in disrespect. I think it had more to do with Dabi's intentions behind revealing his truth, than Best Jeanist not believing him, or worse, dismissing him as a victim. Dabi's truth was called "dirty laundry" because Tōya didn't use it to seek justice, for himself and his family, but rather to get revenge on everyone, to create chaos and to excuse his own criminal actions. It's a truth tainted by hatred, not in the sense that fans of the manga and the Heroes should just forget about it: his past and pain are very, very real and Dabi and the rest of the villains need help. But the Heroes cannot take the time to feel sorry for their enemies, right at this moment, because if they do, that's the end. That's kinda what happened between Toga and Uraraka: she needs to stop Toga because while hurting people might come natural to the villain, that's not a healthy way to live. Toga didn't ask to be the way she is, and as a Hero, it should be Uraraka's job to give her the chance to get the treatment she didn't get as a child, that would teach Toga how to deal with her natural urges in a way that is not harmful to anyone. Mind you, Toga didn't seem to like the idea of conforming herself to anyone else's expectations, so she might not want the therapy. Uraraka would still need to give her all to stop the villain, no matter how sorry she actually feels inside for her.

If the villains win, the Heroes will not be able to rectify their society. Only after this fight ends and villains are taken into custody, it would be safe for the Heroes to show their honest reactions to Dabi's revelation. Only then we can hope to see them caring for the villains' health and their truths and possibly demand that Endeavor turns himself in (I actually want him to do so on his own, without external input). The Heroes aren't being heartless, if that's what some villain stans are thinking. They simply do no have the luxury to let Dabi's words manipulate them into feeling bad for him during a fight, because innocent people's lives are at stake here and just because Tōya had a horrible childhood, it doesn't mean that he's gonna care and let those innocent people be. Dabi wants to see the WHOLE world burn.

Onto Deku, now, the second character in two weeks accused by some, of being an abuse apologist.

He's the first character EVER to confront Endeavor on his treatment of Shōto, after seeing how his own classmate was spiralling and hurting himself, because Shōto didn't want to use HIS OWN Quirk to prevent himself from quite literally freeze to death, all because of Endeavor's abuse.

Deku has always wanted to follow All Might's steps and like All Might, he wishes to be able to save everyone in need. Toshinori, however, already told him that that's not realistic and Deku accepted the fact that he can only save the people in need that he's able to reach and as we saw with Shōto, Kota and Eri, he's ready to lay out his own life and break every single bone in his body to do so. He's so determined to save people, even against the worst of odds, that he can twist fate. I think it's exactly this determination of his that made him speak out this time, not only for Shōto, but for Endeavor, too. Do I like that Deku cares? Yes, I'm glad that people like Deku exist, people that genuinely care and wish and pray for criminals to regret what they've done so they can have a chance to right their wrongs and become a better person. Do I think Deku would stop Endeavor from turning himself in or defend Endeavor in front of the other Heroes so they don't take him away and bring him to justice? I might be wrong, Horikoshi can still make a fool out of me, but I don't think so. Deku knows the years of abuse are there and they will never go away. Deku is also the guy who told off Natsuo for trying to make Shōto feel resentful towards their father, when Shōto was somewhat past that and only wanted to heal. Deku recognized that the siblings have all different ways to deal with trauma and told Natsuo that his feelings are valid, but he can't push them onto Shōto, because Shōto's feelings on the matter are just as valid, even if they don't align with those of his big brother.

Just like villain stans can feel compassion towards Dabi because of his past, while being repulsed by his criminal actions in the present, Deku can feel repulsed by Endeavor's abuse of his own family and still see that a part of him (no matter how little it is) wishes to be a better human being. Deku didn't say that Endeavor should be automatically forgiven for his past actions, no one can deny that the abuse still has serious repercussions for every Todoroki involved (yes. EVERY). But the thing with Deku is that once he's seen this tiny, barely-even-there, light in you, he will fight to save you. I don't think that the people calling Deku an abuse apologist are giving his intuition or insight enough credit.

Dabi's not Endeavor: this means that Deku hasn't seen anything in this fight that might hint to Tōya wanting to be saved. Again, the same thing happened between Toga and Uraraka. And sadly, even Twice and Hawks (Hawks miscalculated sooo bad there). It's unfortunate that phrases like "you can only save someone if they want to be saved" and "you cannot help someone who refuses to be helped" still apply to this world, but that's the ugly truth and I'm sure that to someone like Deku that's a very hard and bitter pill to swallow. Endeavor said he wants to right his wrongs: in my opinion, he's still got a lot of work to do, since he should have really started it all off by being honest to everyone about his actions and let justice do its course. During this battle I'm forced to recognize (like Deku does) that Endeavor might actually be able to reedem himself, after actually atoning for his crimes. I cannot say the same for Dabi, because he doesn't want to atone for the bad things he has done. I didn't see Deku's speech as him excusing Endeavor's abuse to his victim or conceding the point to Tōya, that Heroes don't care about villains. I saw it as Deku telling Dabi to stop using his own abuse as an excuse to hurt other victims (Shōto, Natsuo, Fuyumi and Rei) because as harsh as it sounds, Tōya can't demand compassion for his own pain while being uncapable of showing compassion to his own little brother. Maybe Tōya doesn't actually know everything that Shōto has suffered through, maybe he thinks that his little brother got lucky with his Quirk and didn't have it as bad as he did. That's not his place to say. Dabi is making a contest out of their family's pain, trying to declare which Todoroki got it worse (clearly believing that it's him and that that allows him to do whatever he wants to, now), so I reiterate: he can't ask for compassion in the middle of the battle and the Heroes are actually doing the right thing, not letting themselves being manipulated like that and basically forfeiting the fight.

AFTER this arc ends, I truly hope to see the Heroes showing their compassion for the villains. I hope they would get rid of that obnoxious Hero Ranking and that the society would stop festering the idea that only certain Quirks and their users are strong and valuable and deserving of a voice. I hope they could change their world so that people like Tenko, Tōya, Jin, Himiko and Shuichi are able to ask for help AND BE HELPED before it is too late.

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Typhoid Mary: feminist femme fatale?

“Season 4 was going to be Typhoid Mary, Alice Eve [who played the role in Iron Fist], we were doing a kind of...I had a much different version of her than what Raven [Metzner] had done in Iron Fist. I was kind of rebooting what she was going to be like, and we were going to do a, you know, kind of a warped love story/murder mystery kind of femme fatale, but kind of a modern-day, feminist version of it, as opposed to kind of the older, sexist kind of femme fatale archetype.”

-Erik Oleson, in conversation with Steven DeKnight, SaveDaredevilCon 

As I said yesterday, I have some thoughts about this! If you want some opinions nobody asked for, about a storyline that may never come to pass, you’ve come to the right place! Let’s dive in.

A femme fatale is a character type with quite a history, that can take various forms. She is always an attractive woman who brings ruin to the man who gets involved with her. But sometimes she is deliberately manipulative, while sometimes she is more a victim of circumstances. She may be evil, or she may be sympathetic/tragic. But whatever her moral alignment, she has two defining traits: sexual allure, and some form of negative consequences for the hero as a result of his involvement with her.

A woman who schemes against the hero, and succeeds in harming him, but without using feminine wiles? Not a femme fatale. The Marvel TV universe has featured several examples on different shows: Madame Gao, Mariah Dillard, Alexandra. And, ironically, the version of Typhoid Mary who appeared in Iron Fist. (We’ll get there.)

A sexy woman who tries to manipulate/damage the hero, but fails? Also not a femme fatale. I wish I could give some examples, but sadly I can’t think of any, in dramas at least. Our current media culture loves a sexy manipulator, no writer ever seems to introduce one into a dramatic story without making her succeed in her schemes, to some extent at least.

Which is unfortunate, from my perspective, because I loathe sexy manipulators. It’s a character type I really dislike, whenever I encounter her. As soon as she shows up, I know the hero is going to fall for her bullshit like a chump, and I’m going to end up respecting him less as a result. I could try to unpack my feelings about this a bit more, but that would probably make a post all on its own, so for now I’ll leave it at that.

This doesn’t mean I hate all femmes fatales—it really depends on her motivation and her behavior. If she isn’t trying to harm the hero, and it happens due to circumstances, then I might like the character, but the story becomes a tragedy. Which is not necessarily bad. Just, you know. Tragic.

Anyway! Let’s talk about Typhoid Mary.

Mary Walker is a woman with Dissociative Identity Disorder (multiple personalities), and high-level combat skills. In the comics, she is also a mutant with mental powers. She appeared in the Daredevil comics starting in 1988.

In this original version, her personality fragmented due to childhood abuse, leading her to vow as an adult that no man would ever hurt her again. Her personalities are: Mary, who is timid and gentle; Typhoid, who is adventurous, lusty, and violent; and Bloody Mary, who is even more violent, sadistic, and hates all men.

Mary becomes romantically involved with Matt Murdock, who is cheating on his girlfriend, Karen Page, to be with her. At the same time, Typhoid is trying to ruin him, having been hired to do so by the Kingpin. Matt can’t tell they’re the same woman, because when she switches personalities all her bio signs change (voice, scent, heartbeat, etc) so much that he can’t recognize her. (Uh, sure.) She may also be using some of her mutant powers to confuse his senses. I haven’t read the comics, I’m relying here on what I could learn from the internet.

Eventually Typhoid drops him off a bridge, but then Mary finds him and gets him to a hospital, saving him. Karen is with him when he wakes up, but he breaks her heart by calling out for Mary.

This storyline...does not thrill me. As I said, I haven’t read it, but comics writing about mental illness is generally neither nuanced nor accurate, and comics writing about women circa 1988 is also not great, by today’s standards. And comics Matt’s disastrous love life is legendary—cheating on your girlfriend is bad, Matt! Don’t do it! 

I have, however, watched season 2 of Iron Fist, where we get a different version. This Mary Walker is a US army veteran, special ops, who was captured by the Sokovian military. Her personality fragmented due to the brutal abuse she received from her captors for nearly two years, until she finally escaped. She got a medical discharge from the army after being diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Her personalities are: Mary, who is innocent and naive; and Walker, who is a ruthless, coolly efficient mercenary-for-hire. The existence of a third, ultraviolent personality, previously unknown to either Mary or Walker, is revealed near the end of the season. 

Mary meets and befriends Danny Rand, while Walker is hired by his enemies to stalk him, and eventually capture him so they can steal his Iron Fist powers from him. She later changes sides, getting hired to bring down Davos, the season’s main villain, by Joy Meachum, his former ally.

There are clear parallels to the Daredevil comics storyline, albeit in less extreme form—Mary befriends the hero, but isn’t romantically involved with him; her more violent personality works against him and fights him, but doesn’t try to destroy him. 

I enjoyed this version of the character more than I expected to, for a couple of reasons. For one, she is never the out of control, “crazy” stereotype of a person with mental illness. Both Mary and Walker are more-or-less functional adults, managing to live a strange hybrid life, aware of each other’s existence even though they don’t share memories.

But what I especially like is that she isn’t sexualized, at all. It’s incredibly rare, in my experience, to see a young, female antagonist opposing a male hero, and not have her be sexy. Older women are exempt from this obligation (see my list of examples above), but the young ones always vamp it up, and I am so tired of it. I am not opposed to sexy women, but I am very opposed to the requirement that all women must be sexy. (Unless they’re old.) Male antagonists aren’t required to be alluring, so why should women be? (Yes, I know why. I just don’t like it.)

There’s also a lot of potential YIKES in sexualizing a woman with a severe mental illness, which was caused by (among other things) repeated sexual violence. Could it be done in a way that isn’t super problematic? It’s possible, sure. Am I assuming that most television writers would give the subject the respect it deserves? NOPE! 

I’m really glad they chose to just not go there. Walker is extremely good at what she does, takes no shit from anyone, and (almost) never gets riled up. After everything she’s been through, nothing in her present life has the power to faze her, and none of the men around her have the power to intimidate her. It’s pretty great!

She isn’t the least bit coy or seductive, and, equally refreshing, none of the men try to sexualize her or hit on her. Everyone Walker talks to knows she is a highly skilled professional, and they treat her accordingly. Or, when someone does disrespect her, it’s never gendered as far as I can remember, and it stops as soon as she calmly states what she’s going to do to him if it doesn’t.

As for Mary, although she has a more feminine appearance than Walker (hair down and loose, makeup), she is also not sexualized. Her friendship with Danny, who is in an established relationship with Colleen Wing, is platonic, and no one else tries to hit on her that I remember.

So this is the version of Typhoid Mary that Erik Oleson was going to reboot, into a femme fatale. Only, you know. A feminist one. 

I...have some questions. What does that even mean? What does feminism mean to Erik Oleson? Let’s be real, the idea of a woman becoming an ultraviolent, sadistic man-hater as a result of sexual trauma would have been seen as feminist in some circles, back in 1988 when that version was written. So what, exactly, did he have in mind?

As I said before, sexual allure is a necessary component of a femme fatale. So she was definitely gonna be sexy. And you know now how I feel about sexy female antagonists. As for the “warped love story” part...Matt wouldn’t be cheating on Karen, since they aren’t together (please, for the love of mercy, don’t have them get together right before he meets Mary, we did that once and I do NOT want to see it again), but I am still not a fan of Matt/Mary as a couple.

Her Dissociative Identity Disorder raises some serious issues around consent, and even if the show chose to ignore that, there’s still the issue of past sexual trauma. Unless Oleson’s reworking of the character was going to include a completely different back story, a Matt/Mary relationship would mean Matt unknowingly having sex with a woman who has suffered brutal sexual abuse in her past. Not to mention, having sex with her that only one part of her personality actually wants.

Is it possible for someone with Mary’s past trauma and present mental illness to have a positive sexual relationship? In reality, of course! In the hands of writers with only a layman’s knowledge of psychology, on a show that loves to torment its hero, I wouldn’t bet on it. How do you suppose our poster boy for Catholic guilt would react when he inevitably finds out the truth?

Plus, aside from any issues around Mary herself, Matt starting a relationship with anyone other than the handful of people who already know his secret identity, means a whole new round of Matt lying to someone he cares about. Does anyone really want to see that? I know I don’t. Sure, maybe he’d tell her eventually, but how long would they have to date before he decided to trust her with the truth?

I’m not opposed to the Mary Walker from Iron Fist appearing in Daredevil, if the writers could come up with a new story for her (i.e, don’t just have her repeat all the same plot beats with Matt that she already did with Danny). But bringing her in as a femme fatale really doesn’t sit well with me. We’ve already seen Matt in an ultimately destructive relationship with a sexy, violent, morally grey woman. I really don’t want to watch Round 2: now with multiple personalities!

Of course, maybe we never will. The quote at the beginning of this post is from just a couple of weeks ago (July 25 2020), so Erik Oleson still seems to think it’s a fine idea. But obviously we don’t know yet if there will ever be a season 4, or who the show runner will be if there is. He may never get to make the story he was planning.

So yes, I realize I’m merely speculating about a completely theoretical story that may never happen. But I wanted to write this anyway. I had a strong “ugh, no” reaction to the idea of a feminist femme fatale Typhoid Mary, and I wanted to go deeper and pick apart my reasons for not liking the idea.

To the three of you who have read this all the way through to the end (this post is nearly 2000 words, yikes), thank you for indulging me! These are, as always, my own opinions, and YMMV.