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ciginatree · 5 months

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Pretty- Vinny Mauro x female!reader

Content Warnings: fluff, smut, unprotected p in v sex, language, teeny bit of angst. 18+ MDNI.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Okay, this is my first one shot I have ever written so please give me feedback. Also it's unbetaed so... yeah. Enjoy!

This story is a complete work of fiction portraying a real person or persons in a fictional situation.

“Seriously?! You expect me to believe that you think I’m pretty?” You yell at the man before you.

“Yes! Because you are pretty!” Vinny gestures wildly at you.

“Bull. Shit. I don’t believe you.”

Vinny groans in frustration as he drags his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands in annoyance. “Why? Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Because I’ve seen the girls at the meet and greets! I’ve seen the girls you follow on Instagram! You’re more delusional than I am if you expect me to believe that I’m even half as pretty as any of them!”

Neither you, nor Vinny, could pinpoint exactly how long you two had been fighting in his hotel room, but it felt like hours. It might as well have been. At this point you were just chasing each other's tails, resorting back to the same points and reasoning. An unstoppable force versus an immovable object. You had been touring with the band for the past few weeks, working as an assistant sound tech. You had toured with them once before, and you and Vinny immediately hit it off. There was just something about him that you were instantly drawn to, but you immediately smashed and trashed any feelings that might develop. As much as your heart yearned to pursue him romantically, you knew logically it just wasn’t possible. You needed this job, you couldn’t risk losing it over a crush.

At times, you thought that maybe he could feel the same way about you. Instances where you caught him looking at you before quickly looking away, sometimes he would sit just close enough so you were touching knees or shoulders. But Vinny’s flirty with everyone, that’s just how he is. So you didn’t even dare to get your hopes up. You tried not to anyway.

Now, you bring your hands to your face, shrieking angrily into them briefly before holding them out in front of you. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to get a drink or something.” You turn to walk out of the hotel room, but you only make it two steps before a strong, calloused hand grips your wrist. “Vinny, what the fuck-” He cuts you off by yanking you towards him. Placing a hand on each of your hips, he backs you up into the wall with a thud. He tilts his head so his lips brush the cusp of your ear, his warm breath puffing into your hairline.

“Why don’t I show you how pretty you are?” Your heart is pounding in your ears and you’re panting from the proximity. His body heat is radiating off of him and seeping into you. He brings his head back to look you in the eye. You glance at his lips before crashing yours into his. The kiss is fiery, passionate, and breathless. The lips you’d thought about kissing for months were parted and warm against your own. A soft whine of a noise escapes from the back of your throat and Vinny groans lowly in response. Finally, you both break apart, panting for air. Only a moment passes before Vinny dips his head down, attaching his kiss swollen lips to your neck. You gasp and tilt your head back against the wall as he caresses your pulse point with his lips, fingers flexing against your hip bones. The quiet noises you make are driving him crazy and he works faster leaving a wet trail of hickeys and love bites along your neck.

“Vinny…” you whimper quietly, bringing a hand up to tangle in his dark curls, tugging softly at the roots. His hair is still damp from his post show shower, a drop of water rolls from the base of his hair and down your arm. He leaves one more sloppy kiss below your jaw before drawing back to look at you again. His pupils are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and he’s breathing heavily. Vinny kisses you again, slower this time, but no less passionate. He swipes his tongue tentatively across your bottom lip and you part them, meeting his tongue with your own. There is no fight for dominance, just a slow movement against each other. Savoring the feeling.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Vinny groans in between kisses. He presses in tighter against you and you can feel his erection digging in just above your core. The kiss becomes sloppy, a tangle of tongue, lips, and teeth as you start to grind against each other. Sultry moans and pants fill the space between you and a dull ache blossoms between your legs. Vinny breaks the kiss momentarily to catch his breath before he returns to your neck, not kissing, but simply nuzzling his lips and nose into the bruises he painted there.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he rasps into your skin, “I think I’m going to fuck you slowly and sweetly to show you just how pretty you are, and then I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

You pause for a moment, the lust filled fog breaking momentarily to bring a moment of clarity to your situation. What if he sees your body and changes his mind? What if this changes things between the two of you? Fuck, what if someone finds out and you lose your job? Vinny notices your hesitation, he furrows his brows slightly, hoping he didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. Gently, he pulls back, bringing a hand up to brush his fingertips along your cheek.

“You’re allowed to say no, sweetheart.” Your eyes snap back up to his, and any doubts are immediately blanketed. The look in his eyes is so sincere, so intense.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me Vinny.” The corner of his mouth twitches up and hunger sparks in his eyes.

“Jump.” Vinny quickly snakes his arms underneath you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He briskly walks you both to the queen bed in the corner of the hotel room, dropping you onto the mattress. He rips his shirt off, tossing it god knows where before grasping the hem of your top, lifting it over your head. He returns to you, devouring your lips like a starving man. Lifting one hand to cradle the back of your head, Vinny leans you both down onto the pillows, sinking down on top of you. As he kisses you he trails the fingertips of his free hand along your side, brushing the skin lightly, exploring it. He sweeps his hands up to your bra, kneading and cupping your covered breasts as he revels in the melody of your moans. “Can I take this off, baby?” His voice is low and breathless.

You nod in response, arching your chest to give him access to unhook the bra. His hands draw the straps down your arms and Vinny’s breath escapes him in a quick exhale at the sight of you. His hands draw subconsciously to your tits and his eyes don’t leave your chest for a second as he begins to work your nipples between his fingers, stiffening them to hard peaks. You gasp and arch your chest further into him. “Fuck,” Vinny whispers under his breath, barely audible. He slides his hands down and away from your breasts to unbutton your jeans and you slide down his pants along with his boxers in return. Now that you're both fully naked, Vinny leans back, absorbing every aspect of you. The city lights filter in through the gaps in the curtain, brushing your body with a kaleidoscope of colors, blending with the warm glow of the bedside lamp across your face. He groans, losing himself in the sight. “You’re better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.”

He returns his palms to your breasts, running the pads of his fingers over the very tips of your now almost painfully sensitive nipples, teasing you. You squirm and whine at the contact that was not nearly enough to satisfy you. He smiles, chuckling lightly to himself. “Mmm, you like that, baby?”

“Fuck, yes Vinny. Stop teasing I need you to fuck me.” You writhe under him, grinding your hips up in an attempt to gain some of friction. Any kind of relief. He shifts his hips back before you can make contact.

He smirks down at you. “Say you’re pretty.”

“What?”

“Say you’re pretty, then I’ll fuck you.”

“Vin seriously-” you cut off with a gasp as he pinches your nipples.

“I won’t fuck you until you say you’re pretty.”

You relent, dropping your head back onto the pillows with a huff. “Fine. I’m pretty.”

Vin smiles warmly down at you as he threads his fingers with yours, clutching your hand on the pillow beside your head. He places a soft, lingering peck on your lips and rests his forehead on your own. “You’re more gorgeous than you will ever know.”

He pulls back just enough to grab the root of his dick, lining it up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes the tip in, moaning in unison with you. He waits a moment before pushing in further, then pulling back. Rocking back and forth, bit by bit pushing further until he’s completely inside you. He presses his head into your shoulder, moaning your name softly, pausing to allow you to adjust to the feeling. He then draws his hips back slowly, both of you relishing the pull of his cock along your walls. Vinny begins to find a steady rhythm, rocking in and out as you both moan, pant, and whimper against each other. You wrap your free hand around his shoulder while the other one remains grasped tightly with Vinny’s.

“Fuck you feel so good Vin,” you whimper, tilting your head back against the pillow as you rock your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“So- mnh- so tight babygirl. Fuck you’re so perfect, so perfect for me.” He speeds up, thrusting harder into you as you both start to glisten with beads of sweat. You slide your hand up from his shoulder to brush the hair out of his face, gripping the crimson and chocolate locks against his scalp. Vinny takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you; eyebrows furrowed together with your mouth dropped open in pleasure, chanting his name like a prayer. He shifts his weight onto the arm that’s holding your hand, bringing his now free hand down to your swollen clit. He rubs fast circles on the hard bud before repeatedly strumming it lightly with his fingertip. “Shit!” Vin gasps as your pussy clamps down harder around his cock.

You moan lewdly, a sultry noise escaping you as you arch further and buck your hips. Wrapping your legs around his back, your mind blanks and all you feel is overwhelming pleasure. The warm pressure building deep between your legs feels like it’s going to release at any moment. “Vin, fuck, I’m gonna- I’m gonna c-cum!” you pant desperately. You feel a heavy twitch of his dick inside you and you know he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Fuck, me too. Cum with- ahh- cum with me.” Vinny relentlessly pounds into you as you release. Your pussy clamping down on him as you convulse and cry out in an echo of Vinny’s name. Your back arches violently and your hand grips his hair like a vice. Vinny groans out a strangled shout of your name as he buries as deep into you as he can get, spreading his warmth into you. Dropping his head to pant into your shoulder, he clutches your hand like you’ll disappear at any moment.

Spent, you lie limp together, breathing shakily with Vinny still deep inside you. Slowly, he removes his head from your shoulder to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss. Fuzzy and fucked out, all you can feel is Vinny. A whine escapes you as he slowly pulls out, flipping you over gingerly so you’re resting on his chest. His heartbeat is thumping gently against your cheek, lulling you further into relaxation. Vinny strokes your hair as you doze off, holding you against him with his other arm. As you fade into sleep, you hear Vinny whisper into your ear: “You’re my pretty girl.”

#motionless in white #miw #miw band #vinny mauro #vinny mauro x reader #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny miw #chenzo mauro #vinny mauro smut #miw fanfic

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auspicioustidings · 1 month

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the john and kate thought.. be still my heart!! they’re both already so charmed by the sweet thing that they went to the theatre with and politely ask if she’d be willing to go on more outings with them.

taking her all over, to the most extravagant places and dressing her in only the best.

really, sweet things just deserve to be cared for, and they’re the best people for the job

ABSOLUTELY. My controversial take is that Kate and John have fucked before and that's why they are so good at this. Hear me out though, it was totally platonic in both instances.

The first was just circumstance to be honest. They had been stuck in the desert for months and were both needing to blow off some steam. The second was when Price wanted help figuring out if he could bottom when he first took an interest in Ghost and Kate is a good friend so obviously they spent a pleasant weekend figuring out if he liked taking dick (Kate's strap got quite the work out).

Point being, they are so incredibly pragmatic. If they spot that you seem a little frustrated, their go to is lazy head while getting fed on a Sunday afternoon. Doesn't bother them none to work together, Price between your legs and Kate feeding you bites of fancy snacks to go with the fancy aperitives as casual as anything.

It would definitely take some adjusting to how easily they work together and how casually they treat deep intimacy. They don't touch one another the way they touch you. With you they are doing it out of sheer enjoyment, the times they touch each other it's pure pragmatism. John needs hardening up but you are busy being suffocated under Kate's pussy? She's fine blowing him to get him ready to take you. Kate is fucking you with her strap but needs a little help getting there herself? John will follow her instructions on how to touch her nipples to get her off. With them it's just purely to get results, platonic and not romantic or sensual.

That level of platonic bond means they are so incredible as partners when it comes to all walks of life. There isn't jealousy or competitiveness between them. More than once you will message one asking a favour and the other shows up to carry it out. John organises dates for just you and Kate and vice versa. And goddamn they are so good at debriefing one another, pooling their knowledge to make sure they always know just what you want and need.

It's overwhelming just how quickly they become an integral part of your life. They're not super subtle about the fact they would love you barefoot and pregnant and never working another day in your life (if you protest they will kindly back off, but they're going to continue to make your life as luxurious and comfortable as you'll let them). They'll both propose, get you rings, have a big ceremony. It'll be John on paper because that gives you legal rights in every country so it just makes the most sense, but the two of them are taking you on a wildly luxurious honeymoon together followed by an individual one with each of them.

#mhairianswers #Laswell and Price sharing a taste in women and both wanting a little wife at home <3 #if anyone knows a queer platonic power duo with lots of money and the desire for a little wife at home pls let me know actually #literally right here waiting #I stg I hear one mention of 'gold star lesbian' I'll block you go be weird and gender essentialist somewhere else <3

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lovelykhaleesiii · 2 years

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a modern au aegond on whatever you feel like writing plss

modern AU Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader + Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader.

A/N - I’m just writing a modern!University AU on what they’d be like in a relationship.

Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aegon was skeptical about you initially, especially your feelings and attitude towards him, he really struggled to figure you out.

You both shared various classes together, although never really spoke to one another unless necessary for instance for group projects or class discussions.

This time was different however, this time it was a little more 1 on 1. You both had been paired for an assignment, and to be frank, you weren’t initially that keen.

Aegon had a notorious reputation around campus, and it was not one you’d much rather associate yourself with.

He was wildly known for being a troublemaker amongst both students and staff alike, from time to time being absent from classes, often you heard it was because he was too “hungover” to wake up.

And with the girls, he was known to be a major fuck boy. He’d often manipulate and seduce girls to bed with them, only to leave them hanging the next day. No call, no consideration, just complete ignorance.

You urged Aegon that you’d only meet up to work together in public places & most of the time it was the library. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t try anything in a place like this, but you were so wrong.

Aegon began his take on you, you could see right through his facade. Each time his attempts to “flirt” would fail, he’d get even more frustrated with you.

He’d make degrading comments, often as a “joke” he would rationalise.

“God Y/N, you’re such a bitch.” “Are you always this fucking stiff?” “Why don’t you let me loosen you up, beautiful, aye?”

That was the tipping point, as Aegon’s hand began sliding up your thigh, making the comment, you shoved him off viciously, as you began your rant.

In the heat of the moment you went on a tangent; although to sum it up. “How fucking pathetic are you, Aegon?! It’s beyond me how you’ve convinced yourself that you could ever be deserving of someone like me. You, you being the scum of the Earth, Aegon, I’d rather drop dead right here and now, than spend another fucking minute with you. You disgust me, and don’t you ever fucking touch me again, you fucking asshole.”

The last thing you remember was the shock & stoic face of Aegon, as you grabbed your belongings before storming off. You’d never felt so heated in your life.

At this point, no progress was made from Aegon’s side of the assignment & after the confrontation, you couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Aegon again. You’d arranged to discreetly spoken with the professor in charge, who reluctantly accepted your desire to split from Aegon and complete the assignment alone, after hearing that Aegon was lacking.

You wouldn’t have disclosed this decision to Aegon before hand. Although, once he’d found out he definitely took it to heart.

He didn’t realise how much his behaviour and attitude had rubbed you off the wrong way. You would be his waking up call.

Aegon would text you and occasionally try to call you. You’d ignore his attempts.

This pushed him to having to confront you face to face, which when he did he was actually quite anxious to do.

“Y/N please, I know I don’t deserve your time and day, believe me. I just need you to hear this.”

“Aegon, I have class, I-” As you tried to continue on your walk, you felt a tug on your arm, pulling you back into his gaze.

“I’m just really really sorry, Y/N. Whether you accept it or not is entirely up to you, but I couldn’t sleep, can’t think straight if I don’t apologise. Everything you said, i-it’s true. This feeling, this guilt, I’ve never felt this before. I really didn’t mean the things I said, I just say them because well I guess I just could.”

You hadn’t accepted his apology there and then. Although you could see the remorse on Aegon’s face. The guilt was really eating him up.

For the course of the next few days, you’d say hello, warming up to him which he appreciated, having some surprise on his face when you acknowledged him and a half hearted smile.

Aegon took the initiation to better himself. He distanced himself from his “friends” and even completed the assignment himself. He showed up to his classes, even the ones that “bore” him.

He began to have conversations with you, asking how you were and how your day was. And naturally overtime, you began to warm up to him. He took a keen interest in you.

He’d definitely spoil you with small things & remember key dates.

Eventually, you began to spare time with Aegon, showed up to social events with him. Your friends were skeptical of him at first, although overtime, he won them over also.

You supported Aegon with his studies as from time to time he struggled.

He was the first one to say “I love you” and he was extremely cautious with you the first time you were intimate. Although you assured him this time, it was different.

Aegon would definitely spoil you, taking you to the finest bars, restaurants that he’d been well accustomed to.

You guys would go on dates every weekend, just travel. Wherever you go, he goes.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aemond would definitely be your rival in class, your competition. He didn’t know this, although in your mind, you’d have the goal to beat him in an exam or an assignment.

He was just as smart and competitive as you, he took pride in his work.

He wasn’t widely known across campus, although most people were intimidated by him. And to some degree, you yourself was also found him fearsome.

He didn’t really have many close friends, just a few acquaintances here and there.

He rarely was seen taking extracurricular activities unless it was some sort of sport, I could see him taking a combat sport as a hobby, which made him seem even more dangerous.

Often you found him isolated in a corner in the University library, immersed in a novel.

He would always notice you, although neither of you made the effort to exchange words.

Until one day, a novel you’d heard so much about that you were desperate to read was no where to be found.

“I swear it was available.” You asked the librarian whom was checking to see the book’s availability.

“I’m afraid it seems someone’s already borrowed the book, perhaps you can ask them to borrow it after they’ve finished.”

“Well, whom currently has it?”

“Aemond.”

Fuck, you thought.

You’d contemplated buying the book externally, although these novels and textbooks nowadays cost an arm and leg. Besides, it wasn’t a terrible thing to ask for something, it’s not like it was his to keep, right?

You’d been planning all day the right time to ask Aemond, seeking him out.

When the moment came, you’d blurted out his name, from across the empty hall, and instantly he turned. To some degree, you could sense he was surprised, and began walking over towards you slowly. You could feel the courage you’d built up during the day rapidly fade, and you were stumbling at your words.

“Yes, Y/N.”

He knew your name. We’ll of course he did, you had classes together, you’d mentally registered.

“I-I was wondering if after you’re done with reading that book,” you gestured, “I could borrow it after, if that’s okay.”

A small smile appeared on his face, and he began to nod his head.

“I have a better idea, why don’t we meet in the library and read it together, perhaps we can even discuss about it.”

You were taken back. Although he left you there, without even having your approval. It seemed it was more of an order than a request.

As if your body and mind had been taken over, immediately you rushed to the library after class, waiting for him in the usual spot you’d find Aemond.

He found that quite sweet, the small things he’d noticed you did. Overtime, you guys became quite open and close, discovering things about each other, that you’d never thought or realised.

Aemond was the opposite of what you’d envisioned in your mind, he actually cared, or essentially he cared about you.

He’d disclosed things he’d noticed about you that you didn’t realise… He was watching you.

“I was always curious about you, Y/N. Just never thought the interest would be mutual.”

He would recommend you his favourite novels, and would passionately discuss them with you after having read them.

He loved the stimulating conversations you’d share, he found you so intriguing.

He would start to show his affection naturally. Putting his arm around you as you walked around campus, and after introducing your friends to him, they immediately warmed up to him.

He’d definitely give you his jackets or share his coat with you, as you both read.

You’d lay on his chest.

The more you become comfortable with Aemond, he becomes comfortable with you. That’s his way of showing how he trusts you.

He’s always chilling at your dorm more than his own.

Coffee dates becomes a tradition for you both.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon targaryen ii imagine #aegon ii fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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batwritings · 8 months

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Hi again Bat!! Hope your year’s going well so far. Got a couple more requests-hope you don’t mind!

Can I get Gaz with a rival reader, who’s not exactly his enemy, but has always been his competition? Basically, they’ve been frenemies since selection, before they even both got into their respective positions in 141. Between their silent competitions during training, to their snarky comments to each other during missions, they’re always trying to one-up each other. Eventually, at some point, they find themselves struggling for some semblance of control over the other in bed, desperate to win once and for all.

-Hybrid

Hmm, I don't think I've ever written anything like this! Let's give it a whirl! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Kyle Garrick have never gotten on well. It wasn't that you were on bad terms necessarily. The two of you had just always been neck and neck in everything, it really did give off that imagery some days.

From the moment you were selected top in one of your shared classes, to the placement of each of you on TF141. In everything, Gaz was you rival to the end. So it wasn't a surprised to see him in front of your door with a frustrated expression one night.

"I had that," he growled as you let him into your barracks. "But nooo, you just had to step in and take up the limelight didn't you?" You couldn't help but smirk, shrugging slightly as he crossed his arms defiantly.

"Wow Sergeant," you mocked, sitting back against your cot. "Didn't realize this would have you in such a tizzy. You gonna do something about it for once?" You spread your legs a bit, clearly meaning to be teasing. It was something you did all the time after a singular instance of catching the man staring while the two of you had to quickly change on a mission. Yet never once did your teammate choose to act on it.

You watched with rapt attention as chocolate eyes looked between your spread legs and your face with a distinct sneer. "You know what?" he says, uncrossing his arms, balled fists at his sides. "I am."

Before you can ask him what he'll do, Gaz is between your legs. He pushes you back against your bed, hold your arms above your head with one hand and a confident smirk. You blush wildly, clearly not expecting the reciprocation and how aroused that simple act just made you.

Eager to turn the tides, you lean up and kiss him roughly, moaning when it's returned without hesitation. Your legs hook behind his, forcing him on you further. The man hums, slipping a hand down your front to rub against your sex.

You rock your hips up, making your two sexes touch behind his hand. Gaz groans, kisses now trailing from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. You sigh in pleasure as the two of you start rocking your hips together.

It's as if the sergeant knew all of your weak spots, easily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Meanwhile, your filthy words were egging him on just as bad. "Fuck you feel so good Kyle," and "Please fuck, harder, more--" were things that drove him absolutely wild.

Unfortunately for you, you wouldn't be winning your little spat. One well placed nip against your clothed nipple was the breaking point, having you come undone against his clothed sex. Little appreciative kisses were pressed into your skin as your teammate praised you, ceasing all movement as to not overwhelm you.

"Well done Y/N," Gaz purrs with a rather sweet kiss pressed to your cheek. "Think that gets us even now doesn't it?" You roll your eyes, smiling deviously.

"Oh we're not done here sergeant."

#bat writes #anon reqs #hybrid anon #cod x reader #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut

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hongtiddiez · 9 months

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much ado about shin

so i wanted to put my thoughts and feelings down on the trajectory of Bake Me Please yesterday but i had a splitting migraine and couldn't thoughts well, so here it is today.

i've said it in the past but Shin doesn't know how to give affection, he doesn't know what it means to love, because he's never had proper examples of what that looks like. we're modeled by our environment and Shin has grown up very isolated from everything, so he's wildly out of his depth when it comes to more tender feelings. i said last week i believed we would see Shin try and use food, the only instance where he does understand love, to try and apologize to Peach and i was delighted when it turned out i was right.

this doesn't mean i'm not still infuriated with Shin, though. his constant ego is tiring, the fact he thinks he invented the fucking torta caprese (i don't think you were around in 1920 Shin, sorry,) the way he called Peach's dream stupid, the fact he doesn't understand why Guy would leave to pursue his own dreams (again, i wonder if Shin has ever had a dream,) and the way he just doesn't. fucking. listen.

we did see a glimpse this week, a little nod that Shin has changed. he grows defensive around Peach because that's the source of his hurt right now but when he was alone in the kitchen with Atom he didn't lash out, wasn't rude to him, he was soft and kind and even vulnerable as he hid his tears. Shin is changing, he's keeping good habits for the most part, which is good to see. now if only he could be that way around Peach.

while i don't understand why we're supposed to keep giving Shin our patience and understanding (the narrative really hasn't done much to redeem him in my eyes) i do appreciate from a narrative standpoint that we're being shown that impulsively falling into bed with someone with little communication or understanding does not a good relationship make.

Shin and Peach had no discussion of their feelings for each other before or after sleeping together and it became very clear very quickly that they still don't even really know each other. Shin had no idea about Peach's dream, barely knows anything about how he grew up, and has shared very little of himself with Peach - and even asks Peach to keep their relationship a secret with zero explanation. (i don't know what you expected him to think Shin you fucking doorknob.) they're good at flirting, at falling into bed together, at being playful, but they're absolutely dog shit at talking.

you know who isn't bad at talking?

here i go again. but honestly, Guy has always talked to Peach about what bothers him, what he likes, what he wants to do with his life. this is the number one reason i won't classify Guy as an incel "nice guy" character (Oab) because he does genuinely care about Peach and what goes on in Peach's life. he's listened to Peach complain about Shin, watched them get together, and has comforted Peach numerous times. he knows Peach better than his own boyfriend, fling, whatever does and i think that's probably what is fueling so much of his frustration and petty actions.

i also think this relationship between Peach and Guy is why so many of us would rather see those two get together. they communicate, recent events not withstanding, they have fun together and have genuinely really liked each other (platonically) since episode 1. your partner should be your best friend and aside from Atom i believe Guy is the best friend Peach has. they would probably work so well together, support each other, and make the most amazing bakery of Peach's dreams together - if only Peach could stop giving a shit about Shin.

and like, the heart wants what the heart wants or whatever. sure. but i'm genuinely very concerned we're going to see Peach apologizing to Shin in the finale and Shin taking no accountability or it being brushed off as "that's just how Shin is." i need to see Shin apologize, whether with words, actions, or something, for calling Peach's dream stupid. above everything else that absolutely needs to be addressed because that's something Peach will remember forever. our brain has a funny way of latching on to the worst things people have said to us and rotating them in a microwave.

i would respect the show so fucking much if Shin and Peach didn't get back together, if they went their separate ways. is it a cute ending to a love story? absolutely not, but it would be so realistic and even healthy. sometimes you meet someone and it's fun and the sex is good but it's just never going to work and you can't change people (they can only change themselves.) i would even appreciate if they went a 'right person, wrong time' approach; maybe a time skip where Peach has his dream shop, Shin walks in, and they can try again.

all i know is i REALLY don't want to see this all put on Peach's shoulders, and i don't really want Guy to be pigeon holed into being a villain either. Shin's being fucking goofy and i think Guy's antics are the wake up call he needs (when he wakes up from his.. heart attack? embolism? stroke?) to get his shit together and treat Peach right.

but if he shoves Peach one more time i'm ripping his arms off and beating him with them, that's for sure.

#bake me please #bunn meta #bake me please the series #shinpeach #guypeach #poom phuripan #guide kantapon #ohm thitiwat #and in oab's defense the narrative has not focused on him at all #he could be just like guy but we don't know shit about his and shin's relationship #yessss bitch give us nothing

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indigochromatic · 2 months

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I sent this ask to someone else but I'd like to ask more systems - may I ask what your opinion is on subjective reality within systems? Systems that don't have consistency in the headspace, or a consistent timeline, consistent memories...that sort of thing. I'm struggling a bit with that now and it's really freaking me out :( so I'd love to hear your take, if you'd be willing

Hey there! Yeah for sure, we'll take a crack at this. First, though: Content warning for discussions of reality, subjective reality, unreality, etc. If too much that stuff makes your brain unhappy, maybe skim or skip this one.

I'm sorry to hear you're struggling a bit rn, Anon. It's not fun to feel like you don't have "solid ground to stand on", and having to deal with not having a consensus about your autobiographical narrative can be really frustrating and scary.

Lemme try to come at this from a couple angles. First off, I'll say something about how we think of big-picture philosophy, which is that everyone has a subjective reality to some extent. There's a reason it's called "consensus reality" not "objective reality", and that's because no two people on earth are having the exact same experience. Perception is biased, memories slowly alter every time they're recalled, interpretation differs wildly depending on context. The human brain isn't an accurate recording device, it's a pile of synapses telling stories to itself in the dark.

So what do we do with that? Philosophically, that's a big question, and I'm not gonna pretend I have all that figured out. Learn to yourselves stories that give your life meaning and purpose. Practically speaking, though? That'll depend on what you're struggling with specifically, and what you're hoping to change.

For example, let's take memory consistency. The two of us have generally pretty consistent memories (e.g. we agree on what events happened rather than having conflicting memories about it), but we also have a shit memory overall--we've described it like we're living in a sliding window of 2-8 days, and everything else is kind of a mess since around 2019-2020. We also have ADHD, so that doesn't help either. What do we do? Honestly, just super basic stuff like "keep a calendar notebook that we write stuff down in to keep track of it, and don't worry if it's not perfect or fully complete", "set alarm reminders for non-routine things we don't want to miss, like medical appointments or phone calls with friends", and "check in with each other when we can, to ask if we're missing anything (and just to say hey)". We also know our memory is affected by our overall dissociation levels, so just generally trying to take care of ourselves and slowly improve our life situation is pretty likely to help, too.

On headspace consistency, though--I'm actually a little confused by what you're asking. Are you worried because your headspace isn't static and changes a lot? Anon, with love, that shit is so common, I wouldn't be worried about it in the slightest. Our headspace is a whole mess, for instance--not only is it different based on whether you're in "my mind" vs "L's mind", even the small handful of semi-consistent places and/or 'themes' change around all the time, not just day-to-day like the weather but also evolving over time, especially as we learn more and process more stuff and experience more things. Hell, my exomemories don't even all have a consistent continuity. And even the "semi-consistent" aspects of our headspace basically exists in a sort of...Schrodinger's Headspace superposition, most of the time? For example, there's a whole, like, Hades/The Spirit Realm in there--except when it doesn't exist, or when it's wrapped into some other part of headspace, or retroactively never existed, or was all just symbolic anyways, or is personified in one of my facets instead, or...well, you get the idea. If you're looking to create a bit more solidity in your headspace, it's usually possible to develop more 'concrete' headspace locations by practicing visualization over time--this can be guided meditation stuff, writing about it, collecting a moodboard of images, constructing a model of it in minecraft or another "virtual space-builder" game/program/whatever, etc. Don't be discouraged if it doesn't happen overnight, this stuff can take a bit of practice to solidify.

Timeline consistency: yeah. That one can be especially hard to avoid when you have between-system-member amnesia in general, and/or multiple periods over your life where there were different main fronters. We're not experts on this front, but a lot of it, as far as we can tell, tends to come down to just...trusting each other, as a system. You've all got pieces of the puzzle, and some folks' pieces are written in map coordinates while other folks have cryptic, symbolic riddles--they're all important pieces, even when they conflict. And sometimes you have to kinda let go of trying to ever Perfectly Reconstruct Exactly What Happened, and focus more on what you want your life to look like now and moving forward. Not sure if that system member's exomemories are 'purely symbolic/emotional' or have some basis in physical events? Ask them how they want to deal with it, and what support they want. Sometimes the narrative is more important than the events, because the events themselves are gone. They're over. What we carry with us--everyone, systems and singlets--is the narrative we've told ourselves about the events, and that's the part that grows and changes with us throughout our lives.

Anyways, that's my take on it. Hopefully this gets at a bit of what you were asking about, Anon? Feel free to toss us followup questions if you want, thanks for the opportunity to talk about all this a little. -S

#system stuff #system experiences #sysconversation #S.txt

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bashsbooks · 2 years

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No Way, They Were Gay?: Hidden Lives and Secret Loves Book Review

★★☆☆☆ ~ 2 out of 5 stars

One of my favorite pastimes is wandering through the nonfiction section of my local libraries to see what we’re passing off as the truth these days. This is how I stumbled upon No Way, They Were Gay?: Hidden Lives and Secret Loves by Lee Wind, a book that immediately intrigued and exasperated me in equal measure when I saw pictures of Gandhi and Abraham Lincoln on the cover. Further compelled by the back blurb that makes the (in my opinion, accurate, but sorely misused in this instance) claim that history is not as simple as a rote statement of facts but more like a series of events and circumstances interpreted and reinterpreted by various people over time, each coming from their own specific contexts and biases and contributing those to their interpretations, I checked it out.

No Way, They Were Gay? is broken into three broad sections: men who loved men, women who loved women, and people who lived outside the gender binary. It also contains a short introduction to terms and explains some of the choices that the author made when describing historical people - such as the wildly questionable choice to refer to Charley Pankhurst (who was assigned female at birth (AFAB) but lived as a man) and Anne Lister (who is a well-known and well-documented woman who loved women but had a butch gender presentation) with they/them pronouns. I was so taken aback by this particular choice that I kept track of the pronouns used for everyone mentioned in this book and was uncomfortable to find that they were only used for masculine-leaning people who were assigned female at birth - despite the presence of a nonbinary assigned male individual.

I understand the complexities of trying to figure out what historical figures would have identified as and what they language they would’ve used if they lived in the modern world, but I find it uncomfortable to make assumptions that are clearly rooted in a combination of assigned sex and gender presentation; nonbinary people come in all combinations of these characteristics, and they use all kinds of pronouns. I am of the opinion that it is usually most respectful to use the pronouns for people that they used for themselves, if known. And I feel that we know what Pankhurst and Lister used for themselves.

I go in-depth about this pronoun issue not just because I care about this on a personal level (though, obviously, I do), but because it is indicative of just how pervasive and stark Wind’s biases are throughout the course of this book. Clearly, he thinks they/them pronouns are for masc AFABs. He also presents very cherry-picked evidence for his arguments about a few famous and well-documented individuals being gay - such as Abraham Lincoln. I don’t have a strong opinion on Lincoln’s sexuality, but what I do have a strong opinion on is the choice to present a friendship between two men that met the platonic standard of the time as inherently “gay” (with the strong implication here of “gay” being synonymous with a romantic relationship) while simultaneously being dismissive of/barely getting into the men’s relationships to their wives.

This is extremely frustrating because this book covers actual historically important queer people, too, so you have to weed through the author’s fringe theories about Lincoln alongside actual facts about Bayard Rustin and Christine Jorgensen’s lives. And I want children to learn about Rustin and Jorgensen and dozens of other important queer people, but I don’t want them to learn about someone who is incredibly biased at best and incredibly sloppy and rude to certain portions of the community at worst. And additionally, because I can't trust this book, I don't know how accurate portions of it that cover individuals and topics I'm less familiar with (such as two-spirit identities or the nature of relationships between Mosotho women) are.

That is why, although I found most of the book more or less surface-level accurate, I cannot recommend it in good faith. I give it 2 out of 5 stars. Yes, it could be a basic starting point, but it’s misleading and not fully-fleshed out - look, the intended audience is children, not idiots. You can explain more complexity than this to fifth graders, and frankly, you should. This book is an attempt at validating historical queer existence that falls so embarrassingly flat because it was trying to do too much with too little information. Don’t do that. Don’t do that. There is no need to feed into this conspiracy theory that historians are hiding queer people from us when the truth is more complicated than that. There is no need to claim someone so well-known and studied is queer, when we really don’t know, just so kids recognize the name and pick up the book. They can learn a new name. In my experience, they’re generally more interested in learning about new people than adults are.

#no way they were gay?#no way they were gay?: hidden lives and secret loves #lee wind #book reviews #my book reviews #2 out of 5 stars #i had FEELINGS about this one #queer books #queer history #spoiler i did not like it

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nobodyaskdcourtney · 2 years

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Daisy Jones & the Six: A Novel + ★★★★★

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Book Blurb by Random House Publishing: Everyone knows Daisy Jones & The Six, but nobody knows the reason behind their split at the absolute height of their popularity . . . until now.

Daisy is a girl coming of age in L.A. in the late sixties, sneaking into clubs on the Sunset Strip, sleeping with rock stars, and dreaming of singing at the Whisky a Go Go. The sex and drugs are thrilling, but it’s the rock and roll she loves most. By the time she’s twenty, her voice is getting noticed, and she has the kind of heedless beauty that makes people do crazy things.

Also getting noticed is The Six, a band led by the brooding Billy Dunne. On the eve of their first tour, his girlfriend Camila finds out she’s pregnant, and with the pressure of impending fatherhood and fame, Billy goes a little wild on the road.

Daisy and Billy cross paths when a producer realizes that the key to supercharged success is to put the two together. What happens next will become the stuff of legend.

Rating: ★★★★★ Descriptors: Magnetic, raw, lively. Recommended by: TikTok, as usual. Recommended for: Those who chase - chase a drink, chase a lover, chase a dream. Literally everyone - read this book.

I was not entirely sure I was going to finish this one - but, man, am I glad I did.

It took me longer than I had hoped to complete it. For an ebook that is approximately 400 pages, I would usually knock that out in a few hours, maybe a day or two at most. No, this took me a week and a half to finish, and the ending was well worth it.

The writing style here is unique. Now, I know Reid is a popular author on TikTok, but this was my first time reading a book of hers. I'll be honest, I think the writing style is what truly threw me off and made it difficult for me to finish. The author writes as if it is an interview instead of a novel, with the occasional "author's note" from the journalist writing the story. It read almost like a screenplay to a documentary. Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good documentary. However, the transition to written word here did not strike me as it might have in, say, an audio book. As a matter of fact, I'm almost certain I would love the audio book. If this is how Reid writes all of her pieces, they may also take a bit of time for me to get through.

Now, onto the good part - Spoilers may be ahead!

I loved each of the characters individually. I think they were all portrayed so well and so differently from one another, they all simply clicked together perfectly. However, I will say Daisy and Billy equally frustrated me throughout. I had an inkling of where the story was going once the two, I'd say, protagonists finally met up with one another. The chemistry was palpable, and the same goes for Karen and Graham, who I was rooting for the entire time to no avail.

I was also wildly attached to Camila, and I hated every instance where Billy messed up. That said, I oddly understood her dynamic and relationship with Billy to a heartbreaking degree. I did not hate their relationship by any means. It was real. It was raw, and I loved every minute of it, even the hard parts.

I come from a musical family, and my father always chose his career over his family. I saw a lot of my father in Billy's demeanor, although from a different perspective. My dad never struggled with drug or alcohol abuse, but he was unfaithful to my mother and several other women in his life. But, as Camila seemed to grasp, I knew there was nothing my father could do or could have done to stop my mother from loving him, even when she hated him. Even when she hated his choices and his treatment of his children, my mother still had love for my dad. My parents ultimately separated, and I still think it was for the best. But reading Camila and Billy's story really set me back into the mindset I'm sure my mother understood.

As for Daisy, I hated her addiction and her seeming lack of self-awareness. I've been fortunate not to fall victim to an addiction like drugs and alcohol, so I have a hard time understanding why people can't say "no." Daisy started out as a selfish main character, but her growth throughout the series really warmed me. Once she started comprehending her feelings for Billy were more than just their shared love and passion for music, I enjoyed her opening up more.

I liked her friendship with Simone, and I will say - Daisy kept it more real than anyone else in that book. She never shied from what she was doing or saying, and there is something admirable in a woman who stands her ground. I also enjoyed her talking about her sobriety, and I especially loved the final confrontation ( if you want to call it that ) between her and Camila. It was the most authentic, heart-wrenching thing, and it set my heart on fire.

The story was, as I've said many times here, real. It was genuine, it was authentic, it was true. Not every love story has a happy ending. Some have bumps in the road all throughout. Some make you question whose side you're really on, and some you cannot help but love yourself. The odd writing style aside, this was an excellent book and worthy of every star here. I have highlighted and annotated so much of this book, I have no choice but to rate it as highly as I can and recommend it to anyone who will listen.

I loved this book.

#novels #daisy jones & the six #book review #fiction novel #booktok #ya fiction

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sideblogforcrimpy-plus · 2 years

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Not being able to get over a small, annoying thing that's happened feels like knowingly tripping over the same uneven ground again and again

#i am pacing around in my brain and this small annoyance is tripping me up every lap #like #HRUHFHGH #It's not even that terrible on its own it's just because it keeps happening #so it makes each instance wildly frustrating #this is abt work and reading comprehension btw #might delete later but yelling in notes is so cathartic idk #I'm already less mad than when I started #amazing

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carryingthebanner · 3 years

Text

Reincarnation au for @violetwolfraven for the @newsiesgiftexchange I hope you love it, have a happy new year! <3

You, Again.

Words: 1,946

Content Warnings: Slightly alludes to internalized homophobia, Sad Jack :(, Somewhat uses distraction as a coping mechanism, Repressing emotions

Jack

“I will wait, I am waiting, and I will love you with all the love I possess until this body is ash and I begin my search for you again.”

- Tyler Knott Gregson

All Jack wants is to find him again. Him. Davey.

Jack missed the warm, fluttery feeling he got whenever Davey hugged him. He missed how Davey would wave his ink-stained hands around wildly whenever he was frustrated with an assignment or had a not-so-good day selling newspapers. He missed being able to look into his eyes and know exactly what he was thinking. He missed how Davey’s voice got progressively faster when he talked about something he was passionate about, and Jack, in a fit of giggles, had to beg him to slow down so he could understand what he was saying. He missed going over to the Jacobs’ tenement and listening in fascination whenever Davey occasionally spoke to his family in Yiddish. Jack was a New Yorker - he wasn’t easily impressed, but Davey could do something so simple and make it look so intriguing. Jack missed Davey’s shy smiles, and the sound of his laughter was like music to Jack’s ears. He missed every part of him, because to Jack, Davey was a part of him.

Jack sighs and slumps further into his seat.

He could only hope that he was a part of Davey.

Davey

“What if, you and I were meant to part ways, only so that we could find each other again.”

- Unknown (?)

Jack didn’t know. How could he? It wasn’t like defying social norms was on Davey’s daily to-do list. A bunch of kids banding together to form a union and strike was completely different than just one kid, alone, telling his best friend that he was in love with him. And that was Davey’s dilemma. In his previous life, and probably in this one too.

Davey deletes a few words off his document, then drums his fingers against the table. It didn’t matter which life he was in, one thing was for sure: his love for Jack hadn’t changed. He’s supposed to be jotting down notes on why people are drawn to art and why people are drawn to creating art so he can write an essay on the connection between psychology and art, but his mind is only interested in thinking about Jack Kelly - like it has been for the past 19 years.

Davey usually thought about Jack once every couple of months, but the past week had been filled with constant thoughts about him. Not that he was complaining, but he didn’t want to get hung up on the idea of being with Jack and then get his hopes up. It was ancient history now, especially since there was no guarantee that Jack would be well… Jack. Some people came back as animals, some people came back as plants, some came back looking like their past life’s identical twin, and some came back as well… Davey.

Davey was still the same Davey, but some things had slightly changed. For instance, he had been interested in world history, but now, he was more into art history (which may or may not have been influenced by a certain someone). He hated rye bread now but loved sourdough. He was left handed and not right handed. But the biggest change was his appearance. He was still rather slim, and his hair still dark, but he was taller, his once blue eyes were now hazel, and his previously curly hair was now straight.

Davey feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks up, and sees an employee pointing to something in front of his laptop. He looks over at it, grateful to see a steaming cup of coffee. He smiles and begins to thank them, but they had already walked away.

Jack

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever.”

- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Jack had never been in love. He thought he had, but if he was, then what exactly did he have with Davey? Jack loved Davey so much that it hurt. And the biggest tragedy of it all was that he never got to show it.

He never got to hold his face and trace his jawline with his finger. He never got to watch the look on his face after they exchanged “I love you’s” for the first time. He never even got to court him properly. The closest Jack ever got to expressing his feelings was telling Davey how much he meant to him - as a friend. Being so in love with that boy but never acting on it? That nearly killed him.

Fear had never held Jack back.

But Jack was afraid of Davey.

Not Davey in general… but his emotions toward him. Jack could never admit how he longed to hold him at night. Or how many times he tried to paint those beautiful blue eyes, only for the perfect color of paint never to be found. Or how he longed to kiss him, just once. Even holding his hand would do. Just anything other than a platonic hug or friendly pat on the back.

Jack shakes his head, as if doing that would shake the regret away, too.

Jack couldn’t tell Davey how he truly felt about him.

No, Jack couldn’t tell Davey, not in his previous life or his current one.

Davey

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” - Wuthering Heights

Davey sighs and closes his laptop. Another day wasted, he thinks to himself, stuffing it into his bag. He picks up his coffee and takes a sip, cringing slightly when the cold liquid hits his tongue. Coming here was usually his last resort. It provided enough solace for him to study, read, and get work done, but clearly not even the bungee chairs, lofi music and good coffee could help him today. He slings his bag over his shoulder and quickly walks out of the door, rummaging around in his pockets for his phone. He takes it out, puts an address into Google Maps, and starts on his way.

Jack

“I wish I could turn back the clock. I'd find you sooner and love you longer.” - Unknown (?)

Jack can’t take it anymore. He had had a hard time in his first life, always beating himself up for looking at Davey as more than a friend. He had spent so long hating himself, hating the world and how it held him back. The life before this one always seemed to have a grey cloud hanging over it, even in some of the happy moments. This life slowly seems to be enveloping itself in regret. Jack doesn’t want that. He couldn’t bear it.

Which is why he came here.

Medda’s Theatre, which is now known as the Historic Museum of Theatre, has always been a place of refuge for him. Back in his first life, he often came here to clear his mind, get good advice, and lose himself in art.

Now he was here so he wouldn’t lose himself.

Davey

“You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate and what's written in the stars.” - Anaïs Nin

Davey steps inside, pays for his ticket, and strolls down the corridor. A quick visit here for some inspiration is definitely what he needs. He passes some well-preserved costumes, a couple of instruments that had once belonged to famous composers, and framed first drafts taken from the notebooks of renowned playwrights. He continues walking. An infographic about the history of the portrayal of romantic relationships in theatre covers the wall. Another wall has the original sheet music to dozens of the most iconic love songs in musical theatre. Further down the hall, there’s a section that informs museum-goers on how classic love stories have influenced some of the greatest works of art in theatre.

It was almost as if the universe was purposely taunting him, reminding him of what he and Jack could’ve been, but weren’t allowed to be.

His pace quickens, and he sets off for the hall featuring set designs before getting lost in his thoughts.

In his previous life, he would speak Yiddish with his family, and it would get faster and less precise whenever he was talking to Sarah, because he would usually be talking about Jack. Sometimes Jack would be in the room with them, and even though Sarah always told him to slow down because Jack couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway, Davey still felt it was safer to talk faster just in case Jack one day woke up bilingual. She would laugh at her brother, telling him not to worry so much, but she understood. This was Davey. Davey kept things close to his heart and was careful to never open up in that way to anyone. Sarah knew she was the only one who he trusted with his secret, which is why he only spoke to her about it when the rest of their family weren’t there. Occasionally, Davey would dare to speak about Jack in front of Les, who understood Yiddish. However, when Davey used what Les would call “big words,” and spoke quickly, purposely stringing his words together so much that it sounded like a blur to the untrained ear, Les hardly knew what was being said, so his siblings could talk about his older brother’s feelings for Jack, the problems with society, and the pain that came with (what Davey thought was) unrequited love, essentially in private.

Davey rounds the corner and immediately comes to a screeching halt.

He notices the painting first.

Then the fingers that made them.

Javey

"My dear, our souls met long before our eyes did." - Unknown (?)

Jack gently grazes his fingers along the orange mountains, and it’s purple shadows. It’s his own painting - one he had done in his past life. When he had painted it, it was just after the strike’s first disastrous attempt, where all hope seemed lost. His lifelong friend, Crutchy, was on the verge of dying, the newsies were all bruised and battered, and all he wanted, more than anything, was to run away. Running away wouldn’t have erased his mistakes, but it could’ve helped him start with a clean state.

He came here, but what did he really want? To get closure? Or figure out what his next move should be? Maybe to finally let things go and start living? Yes, that has to be it. There was no use dwelling on the past, even if the only person he’s ever loved was a part of it.

Davey desperately tries to catch his breath, but breathing currently seems impossible.

A million and one emotions encompass him, and he’s having trouble processing each one. It’s him.

Although he was shorter, his deep-set hazel eyes now hooded and green, his hair not as light (or long) as it once was, and a myriad of other things, it was still the same soul. The same soul with the same heart and the same mind that Davey originally fell in love with.

And he would recognize that anywhere.

Jack stops running his hands along the brass name plate and pauses. He definitely knows when someone is staring at him - courtesy of his past life experiences. In his current life, he had grown up in Albuquerque, not too far from Santa Fe. It was a nice, quiet life, and Jack loved not having to be on his toes all the time. However, it didn’t take him long to realize that you can take the boy out of New York, but you can’t take New York out of the boy.

Jack turns his head.

His heart skips a beat.

In fact, his heart is two seconds away from completely bursting out of his chest.

For a second, no one moves. No one says a word. Time seems to stop.

An eternity passes.

How do you prepare for something that you’ve dreamt about and wanted for so long?

Something that was so close that it looked like you could reach out and touch it, but yet so far that it was always just out of your reach?

This was their moment, one they both had trouble believing they would ever get to experience.

But it was here now, happening in real time.

They want to run, they want to scream, they want to cry, but all they can do is whisper, “It’s you.”

#im desperately hoping that the formatting turns out ok on this #(and the grammar oof-)#it looks ok on the app but im not sure how it’s gonna look on other platforms #also this did not turn out the way i thought it would ahh #anyway ty for reading have an amazing year!#newsies gift exchange #celeste writes #newsies

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lime-gutz · 3 years

Note

The mercs with a SO with telekinetic abilities? Kinda like Stephen King’s Carrie White ( can usually control it but sometimes will go into a trance and cause all sorts of anarchy when horribly overwhelmed) If you don’t want to do all of them how about medic, scout, and spy :3

OOOOOOO okay that concept sounds really fucking interesting. As we all know the tf2 universe is wack as hell and so like, yeah this concept..

Let's get general hcs out of the way before going into specifics with each of the 3 to give everyone a better understanding of like...my thought process??? (I'll mention the other ones in passing through this but I'll be focusing on the specific 3 you've given me).

I imagine if there was such a 10th class, one that is telekinetic, I'll be calling them the Telepath as their class name, I assume would have gotten such an ability through means of. Well. Obviously telekinesis is very not normal so this could go lots of ways, taking into account that you mention specifically causing anarchy when overwhelmed/experiencing a breakdown I wanna be fun and say the Telepath got this ability in the form of a curse. (For what? Idk have fun with deciding, I'd like to hear!)

I would like to say they've been experiencing this curse for years of their life and had grown old enough with it to the point of knowing how to keep such an ability in check as, when not doing that it could lead to dire consequences. That being in the form of a completely wrecked house or general surroundings.

So by the time they were employed as a mercenary they are well fitted with the knowledge of how they know it works, how they personally deal with it, how far this ability can really go as in they know their limits, and how to control/keep themselves in check as to not break anything..doesn't mean that absolutely nothing happens of course but for the most part, is able to keep things unbroken.

Now, with that out of the way, let's get into the 3 specific mercs you've picked for me to talk about.

Medic:

(General)

You had his attention ever since he read the words "Telekinetic" on your papers that were given for him to observe any medical records! He was excited to meet you..and experiment on/with you specifically. No doctor just has patients with telekinesis!! He's most definitely going to take every opportunity he can to run experiments on you to see just how much the difference goes between you and just a normal human subject.

Practically bouncing on the heels of his feet, his hand lightly shaking under your firm hold of a handshake, an unsettling grin on his features as you both shook has when you first met but..again! He was excited and eager to start whenever he can with the experiments he has planned.

Insanely talkative with you during said experiments. He gets like this when he's eager to devour any knowledge and experience he can get his bloodied hands on..and talking helps him think more. He can talk about just. Super casual things that has nothing to do with what he's doing or talking about what he's doing in the moment (although you're not sure if it's for your sake or if it's just a habit he does for himself.)

Finds it absolutely rejuvenating to watch you fight on the field. You're really something! It's glorious to see your telekinesis abilities in action, while your abilities can only do so much, the much it could do was such a sight! Ohoho!! How you can break enemy bones, their blood decorating the hot sandy grounds of the desert, how you can use the rough terrain to your advantage and gain the upper hand..You're thrilling to watch.

While he can see some restraint on your part when it comes to keeping your emotions in check the best way you possibly can, (as he is well aware of what can come of you becoming wildly overwhelmed) He still chooses to work with you more on how to better your ways of doing so...better??

He's not the most patient man, not by a wide margin or patient in any sense of the word, he has to understand that it also wouldn't be wise to just. Fly off the handle when getting frustrated with you in particular for whatever reason as doing so would result in a completely wrecked base. He keeps this in mind because once they've all experienced such an attack its not really something that you can really forget ya know? That's not to say he's softer with you when talking to you or being less blunt but he can show some restraint on his own emotions just a bit for you.

(Romantic)

-apologies if the telekinetics aren't really talked about here, I feel like overall telekinetics are used more so on the battle field and not for everything the Telepath does

Realizes that overall, you've done a good job managing yourself when it comes to being grounded and staying calm in situations where he could even say he probably wouldn't be as calm. Accompany this with you willingly working with him to find perhaps even better solutions to better dealing with it and you then gain just a bit of admiration on the "doctor's" part.

I view Medic as someone who's generally more willing to let looser when he's around someone he's particularly close with. More fun, less...serious if you will?? Sure he's generally jovial and not serious, but I imagine he's even more so when around company he actually enjoys being around so it's no surprise it's what he started doing with you if you both actually gained a bit of a friendship.

It's a common occurrence to see you both messing with each other in a playful manner, nothing downright cruel or mean, just playful. Ex. When he tries the "Ohoho! You can't possibly reach what you're wanting! Look at how short you are compared to me!" Being a tall man and holding something out of your reach to which using your telepathetic abilities you're able to slip said thing out of his hands quite easily, which leaves the man chuckling as he means it all in good fun.

If you're sitting there like "wtf I want some soft stuff too give it to me you bitch" I reply "okay man mfuck" and give you the softer stuff like, right now. Never fails to get a small smile out of him if you were to use your telekinetics to just brush a stray hair our of his face and smooth it back in place to keep his hair neat. Or if you use it to push his spectacles gently back on his face correctly and no longer crooked on his nose.

Enjoys just the simple touches such as you hooking his arm with yours as he works for a little bit if the work he's doing doesn't require a lot of movement, or just a simple kiss to his cheeks and nose..maybe a peck to his lips if he's busy with something. Not to say he doesn't enjoy more lingering touches when he's not horribly busy however!

Quite enjoys laying his head against yours and leaning some of his body weight onto yours and you doing the same back to him as to balance the both of you out into something more comfortable. He finds that your presence is good to have while he works, helps him feel down to earth and less tightly wrapped in his spiels of thoughts.

Scout:

(General)

Finds that your presence and abilities are both handy on field, although he insists you're not as good as him..he's not gonna not give you credit for how utterly fucking cool it is to see someone use something that resembles literal super powers!! But! He also finds your skills useful for playing any tricks on an unsuspecting teammate...if you're in on it of course, if not he'll complain and whine to you that you should at least try it with him and to think of how cool and funny it would be if you did.

Beg you to do things like, for instance, could you make him fly in the air? Your abilities can only go so far of course and not wanting to disappoint, you were successful!...for a few minutes before his ass flopped onto the floor and he got a bloody nose. However as if blood was not dripping from his face currently he was insistent that they have got to try it again sometime!! Flying felt so cool!!

Probably the teammate who has the most interest in your abilities solely for the fact he thinks it's super cool and only thinks of cool ways for you to use it cause..c'mon!!! He doesn't understand why you wouldn't just use it all the time it would make SO many things easier!!

In an attempt to understand you as a person better and how you live with such an ability he's keen on asking questions if you don't get annoyed with him asking so many and then shooing him off. His questions are more so for curiosity and getting to know you reasons as opposed to Medic's who curiosity was mostly scientific.

He's a dude who has a sense of longing to have..someone to like/relate to. Someone to trust and call his friend! And if you're able to show him that you're someone who can deal with his antics, questions, and things that others will find annoying but are things you accept of him..hey man. You got his loyalty and friendship. Take good care of that.

He really likes to talk about just a bunch of things if you're someone he considers a friend. He's not holding back! He's gonna let you hear all of thoughts he has in the world! Or..talk to you about more serious things that only you as friends would share with each other and no one else perhaps...his worries with his mom and knucklehead brothers, or you and your worries.

(Romantic)

Scout is someone that could be described as super touchy with those he feels close enough to. Which st this base, he doesn't consider anybody quite close enough for anyone to ever see. 'Cept you of course. Growing closer to Scout he's way more comfortable wrapping an arm over your shoulders, giving you side hugs, bumping your side with his affectionately and such.

Okay in his defense with that date he tried to set up with Pauling he totally wasn't expecting a giant fucking mutant bread to come and attack the lot of them so, technically while Spy considers him a failure in the department of wooing women the set up of the date wasn't....horrible???? I mean. It looked like a prom yeah but hey! He's learned a thing or 2 from that experience and so he's more likely to have something at least slightly suited more to your tastes since he's gotten to know you better.

You like to push his cap over his eyes quickly with just a flick of your telekinesis before battle starts, leaving him to laugh and fix it before he quickly and effortlessly catches right back up to you anyways. It's okay though, he gets you back later by pressing a cold beer to your neck if the battle is won.

If given the go ahead by you he'll sit with you somewhere and have either an arm draped over your shoulder or your head on his chest as drones on and on about whatever it is he's currently thinking about. He likes talking, and you like listening to him talk even if you don't follow every single thing he says, you get some comfort out of it.

He won't admit to anyone..but you maybe, that your a huge softspot he has. Like, his family is his softspot..and with family that includes his mom, his brothers, and you to some extent, and he'll be sure to remind you every now and again that he's loyal to you and only you. You can trust him when tells you, but reminding you about that fact never hurts!

Overall, he trusts and loves you to the fullest and he can only hope that you return both of those in full back to him. He's indulged the most information about himself personally and his worries to you and only you, and you've done the same for him.

Spy:

(General)

Standoffish with you in your initial meeting. Your first impression of him was one you couldn't really say was kind or nice in anyway. While the man wasn't downright cruel he still couldn't be described as nice. After all, he did blow smoke in your face upon initial meeting. However, you didn't return this first impression in kind back as you were quick to gather the smoke blown at you in a sphere kind of shape and have it blown right back in his own face, his expression souring quite a bit.

He can be mad all he wants, but you let it be known on your first meeting that you're not letting yourself get pushed around. Something that while not in that moment, he grows to appreciate and admire that you're not gonna let people like him walk all over you.

Once you've proven your worth as a teammate to be welcomed on the team by proving yourself in the face of battle, he's lightens up on you considerably. He views his actions as a sort of..tough love kind of situation if you will. He figures that, if you're really deemed fit enough to have your own spot on the team with the rest of them..then he has no need to keep being tough on you as he thinks it would no longer be necessary if you're already here to stay correct?

Finds some of your antics when using your telekinesis amusing..not that he would admit that out loud of course. You swear you might of heard a sucking in of breath to laugh, soft chuckles, or hell even a few snorts from this man a few times when you mess with people but..you also didn't have proof it was him so you wouldn't know completely.

Has admitted to you at one point that you were more tolerable to be around as opposed to the other teammates, not to say that none of them could hold good conversation no, but most could get a bit tiring to socialize with and it was quick to make him want to reside back in his smoking room. You however, were someone he can actually bear to talk to for more than an hour.

Can also admire your skill and how well in check you can keep yourself, it shows serious restraint on your part and that's not so easy for everyone. He finds it admirable that you try so hard as to not cause any kind of harm to anyone or break anything.

(Romantic)

Okay dunno if you can tell but this guy is very much not a low key kind of partner. He's one to shell out quite a pretty penny on gifts he knows you'll enjoy or dates he takes you on. It's a love language of his.

Is also not low key at all when it comes to affection much in public. Hand holding, kisses to the corner of your mouth, kisses to your hands and forehead, the works of that sort but is sure to not overwhelm you if you're not to heavy on that.

You can give the love back whenever you're on the base, super simple things that sure, aren't as out there as Spy's but are gestures he can appreciate no matter how small they are. Using your telekinesis to fetch him a lighter from across the room as to not have him get up to retrieve it, or to use it to tidy up his tie or flick dust and dirt off of his pristine suit.

You find that although unwilling to part with too much information himself, he's very much listening to things you have to say. A sharp eared good listener if you will, he supposes all of those years of eavesdropping on his end has done him some good as he's very much still listening even though he may be occupied with something.

Indulges himself in your company far more than anyone else. Mostly in the dark evenings as he's usually off doing his own things after battle whatever those things may be. Isn't one to talk about work when everyone is clearly not having to do it as of right now, he just wants to wind down at least a tad (as he never allows himself to completely relax as that would pose a danger to the kind of job he has of course.)

Finds that your a good reading partner, not for reading out loud to or you reading out loud for him but, you're someone good to be around if you wish to work around someone who has a bit of life around them as although silent in speech you're not silent in activities that don't require talking. Reading for example, you don't speak but you're also not silent, your soft breathing, maybe the quiet whistle of your nose as you breath out, the light sound of your bouncing your leg against fabric, or just the sound of rustling and turning pages. It calms him.

#medic tf2 #scout tf2 #spy tf2 #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress headcanons #the telepath (10th class)#tf2 tenth class #Acidic-Asks

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ryukoishida · 3 years

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Qian Qiu/Thousand Autumns Fic: In which YWS experiences qi-deviation and SQ helps out.

Title: Down for You Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW Chapter: 1/1 Summary: [Post Canon] While experimenting with further improving Fundamental Records of Phoenix-Qilin, Yan Wushi suffered from sexually-driven qi deviation, which he tried to hide from Shen Qiao. When Shen Qiao finally realized what was wrong and offered to help, Yan Wushi felt conflicted. A/N: Another qi deviation fic? Yes. Let me join in the fun too please and thank.

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Yan Wushi hated asking for help.

He viewed dependence on someone else as a weakness – a weakness that he as one of the strongest martial arts masters under the heavens had no need for. Even since he was young, he thrived on being on his own: with no other pupils to distract him, and no overbearing teacher to instruct him point-by-point, he was able to concentrate on his training and meditation in his own pace and direction that had taken him higher on the path to greatness and strength in the martial arts realm.

To Yan Wushi, other people were either nuisances for him to flick off like pestering flies or rivals worthy of challenging; friends were merely an unnecessary burden.

Taking on two disciples during the last few decades had not changed his perspective on this. He took on Bian Yanmei and Yu Shengyan knowing that their independent personalities would work well with his hands-off teaching method. And thankfully, both of his disciples turned out to be more than capable to handle themselves and sect affairs when he wasn’t around.

In short, Yan Wushi hated asking for help. He never saw the need, and so perhaps had forgotten how.

Subsequently, when Shen Qiao asked him what was wrong with the slightest hint of worry between his brows, out of pure habit, Yan Wushi smiled and replied lightly, if not a little breathlessly from the itching heat that was very slowly inching from his solar plexus to the rest of his body through his bloodstreams, “nothing, my beloved.”

Even speaking such few words proved to be challenging; his throat protested with a parched, sweet burn that could only be satiated with the touch of one person, and one person only.

But Yan Wushi didn’t dare ask. He’d already asked too much of Shen Qiao by being here with him, standing beside him as if they were equals.

Shen Qiao’s frown deepened a little, barely noticeable. The answer clearly didn’t satisfy the sect leader of Xuan Du, yet Shen Qiao was a patient man and was not one to force answers out of Yan Wushi until he knew his husband was ready to divulge. Heaving a soft sigh and aiming a knowing look at the other man, Shen Qiao only pressed his lips into a tight line and lowered his gaze back to the scroll he’d been reading.

It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced qi deviation. During the years in his training to reach the higher levels of the Fundamental Records of Phoenix-Qilin, Yan Wushi had suffered countless instances and variations of his qi running erratic in his meridian network – icy needles prickling his bones, bursting flames scorching his flesh, paralysis rendering him completely vulnerable – and he’d overcame each and every single one of them without anyone’s interference or assistance.

The slow-burning heat like molten lava crawling slowly up and down his limbs and prickling just beneath his skin was nothing he’d ever experienced before, but Yan Wushi was certain he could get through this troublesome phase with a few more days of meditation and rewiring of his meridian network.

“You will tell me if there is something wrong, will you not?” Shen Qiao’s gaze didn’t move away from the text on his scroll, but his voice was quiet and genuine with concern.

“Of course, Ah-Qiao.”

Three more days of silently suffering the gradually increasing discomfort of feverish sensitivity and the progressively difficulty of ignoring the pulsing desire running wild within his body that no meditation nor long soaks in cold water could suppress, Yan Wushi was desperate.

He wouldn’t allow his disciples or other servants near him for the last few days, and to Shen Qiao’s surprise, he’d even turned his own husband away, muttering something along the lines of not wishing to pass whatever illness he had to his beloved partner. Given any other day, Shen Qiao would have left him be, but Yan Wushi’s behavior had been too uncharacteristic even for the man’s eccentric personality, and that was the moment when the sect leader of Xuan Du couldn’t pretend to be oblivious anymore.

“Yan-zongzhu…”

After knocking on the door of their shared bedchamber in Yuxu Pavilion and receiving no reply, Shen Qiao gingerly opened the door and stepped in. Night had already fallen hours ago and the candles were burning low, the orange glow of the flames flickering when the evening breeze slipped in through the gap of the open door before stilling again.

“Yan-zongzhu?” Shen Qiao tried again, tone soft, making his way to the side of the bed, where Yan Wushi was lying on his back, blankets kicked messily to the side and clothing haphazardly loosened in a state of disarray. His breathing was shallow and harsh, skin flushed and streaked with sweat, exposed chest rising and falling in an abnormal rate that made Shen Qiao rushed the last few steps to the bed and reached out for his companion’s wrist.

He rested two fingers against Yan Wushi’s pulse point, attempting to get a reading, but before he could accurately diagnose the man’s condition, Yan Wushi pulled his arm away with a groan.

“Ah-Qiao…” Yan Wushi croaked out, his voice much hoarser and lower than usual from how dry the inside of his mouth was, and he cleared his throat, eyes fluttering open and head turning slightly to look at Shen Qiao. His pupils were dilated so that only a thin ring of red-brown could be seen. “As much as I appreciate your concern, there really is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Yan Wushi!” Shen Qiao’s patience was running thin, and Yan Wushi could tell because he was calling him by his full name. With quick reflexes, Shen Qiao caught his husband’s wrist again, this time using a bit more force to keep him in place as he tried to read his pulse once more. The palpitation was strangely rapid and inconsistent, with a rhythm that he wasn’t familiar with from any medical books he’d read.

Brows gathering into a deeper frown and lips tightening into a straight line, Shen Qiao placed his palm on the other man’s forehead, and was shocked at the burning temperature of his skin there. He continued his examination, gently feeling his cheek with the back of his hand, and then slender fingers were on the side of his neck – a man’s most vulnerable point, easily grasped and snapped into pieces – but Yan Wushi only craved more, Shen Qiao’s cool fingertips and innocent touches merely serving to ignite whatever was flaring wildly inside his body.

Shen Qiao detected a change in Yan Wushi’s breathing, and simply deduced that as being his condition worsening. He quickened his examination, his hand briefly resting on Yan Wushi’s sternum before sliding lower to his solar plexus, all the while focusing his own qi to the center of his palm to see if he could at least alleviate some of the discomfort and ease the stranded qi into flowing again.

“Hah…!” Yan Wushi jerked as the qi from Shen Qiao’s palm entered through his skin and into his meridian network. It had felt… good. Too good, in fact, that he was afraid he might lose control of himself if he didn’t stop what his dear husband was doing right now.

In his current weakened state, Yan Wushi had no real strength to push back, and so he resorted to his infamous verbal skills. Lifting up his shuddering arm, he covered the back of Shen Qiao’s hand, which was still laying lightly across his husband’s stomach, with his own, interlaced their fingers together and pulled that pale jade hand towards his lips, murmuring against his warm skin in a low voice.

“Ah-Qiao… my good Ah-Qiao… do not be angry with me,” Yan Wushi was using his best impression of an overly-affectionate cat. His saccharine tone shouldn’t be so effective on Shen Qiao, but when it was paired with the teary-eyed gaze, flushed cheeks, and strands of star-white hair stuck to his temple, Shen Qiao felt the initial heat of his frustration simmered away until nothing but a soft smoldering tenderness was left.

Shen Qiao sighed but allowed Yan Wushi to keep holding his hand.

“Yan-lang, I am not angry, but I wish you would tell me right away when something like this happen. If you were to…” Shen Qiao’s mind flashed to the memory of Yan Wushi’s lifeless body lying on the cold, hard ground after his last fight with Hulugu, and he squeezed his eyes close, shaking his head viciously to tear himself away from that nightmarish image. “No, you cannot do that to me again. Promise me that you will not hide yourself like this next time you experience another instance of qi-deviation, or anything else.”

“Call me that again, and I will promise you anything you want.”

“Call you…?” Shen Qiao realized belatedly that he’d been addressing Yan Wushi with the pet name he only used sparingly during their most intimate moments, and he felt his face heating up from embarrassment. “Yan Wushi, this is a serious issue. If you continue to jest around as if your life is a joke —”

“How could I treat my own life as a joke when there is someone who care so deeply for me?” Yan Wushi lightly kissed the back of Shen Qiao’s hand before smiling up at him, the expression so indulgent and gentle – so unlike the usual bold and wolfish grin – that it took all of Shen Qiao’s self-control to not combust on the spot.

“Y-Yan-lang, that is beside the point.”

Despite his cold words, Shen Qiao conceded but quickly continued as if that little scene didn’t happen, “it seems like the flow of your qi is stuck somewhere along the Conception Vessel, probably between the Huiyin point and Qihai point, but it is better if we have a physician take a look—”

“Absolutely not,” Yan Wushi was adamant about this.

“Yan-lang, now is not the time to be headstrong,” Shen Qiao tried to persuade his partner. “Who knows what will happen if we do not act quickly to resolve the qi deviation?”

“This venerable one will not let anyone else touch me other than you.”

“I do not know how to help you…” Shen Qiao said, powerless against the demonic sovereign when he was acting so childishly, “perhaps with acupuncture…?”

“I do,” Yan Wushi said quickly, “and it definitely does not involve needles.”

He internally shuddered at the thought of those sharp, silver, pointy metal bits entering his acupressure points.

“All right,” Shen Qiao acquiesced with a resigned sigh, “will you at least tell me how, then?”

“It is quite simple, really,” one corner of Yan Wushi’s lips curved up into a slight grin, and Shen Qiao suddenly had a bad feeling about this, “I just need Ah-Qiao to enter me and climax inside me while at the same time stimulate a few specific acupressure points on my body with your qi.”

“… pardon me?”

It was solely thanks to Shen Qiao’s strict upbringing that he didn’t instantly slap Yan Wushi across the face and leave.

Rather than repeating himself – because he was sure that Shen Qiao had heard exactly what he’d said – Yan Wushi guided his husband’s hand from his mouth and southward, past his chest and stomach, and finally let it rest on his crotch, which, despite the layers of clothing, was quite obviously stirring in interest, as it had been for the past few days no matter how many times Yan Wushi had tried to resolve this problem by himself.

“Please, Ah-Qiao, will you not help your poor husband out? You know I do not beg easily, but for you…” Yan Wushi grinded up against Shen Qiao’s palm, and even though that slight friction was not nearly enough to quench his yearning, knowing that it was Shen Qiao who was touching him down there was sufficient to make the demonic sovereign bite his lower lip to dampen the whimper that was slipping out prettily. His body trembled with want, aching to be touched; he had to internally force his own frame to remain in place instead of springing up like a predator to trap Shen Qiao within his arms.

“Yan-lang, you know you never have to plead with me if you truly need help, right?” Shen Qiao was not used to seeing this side of Yan Wushi. Even as young as Xie Ling and as mellow as Ah-Yan were, none of his split personalities had ever acted like this. From Yan Wushi’s own perspective, this kind of behavior was unbecoming, a display of weakness, a sign of disgrace, and so he would never have allowed himself to fall into this pathetic state.

Shen Qiao’s fingers were twitching from the heat emanating from Yan Wushi’s erection, so it was a wonder he was able to inquire in a calm tone, “but are you certain that this is the only way to redirect your qi?”

“My good Ah-Qiao, please… I… I need you to touch me or I am literally going to die.”

Now Yan Wushi was being rather dramatic, and they both knew it. Even Shen Qiao was trying hard not to crack a smile at that as Yan Wushi continued his lament.

“Is that what you want? Do you want your husband to die from something as ridiculous as sexually-driven qi deviation?”

“For someone who is supposedly suffering, Yan-zongzhu sure runs his mouth too much,” Shen Qiao’s inhibition had melted away, and his worry seemed to have alleviated somewhat as well, after seeing that Yan Wushi was still capable of his melodramatic antics. “Shall I put your mouth to better use?”

Shen Qiao allowed himself to be pulled forward and down until their noses were nuzzling against each other’s, their breaths mingling hotly while the sect leader of Xuan Du ran his fingers back up to his exposed chest, splaying his hand against the patch of warm skin there. Feeling his husband’s heart thrumming beneath his fingertips, Shen Qiao’s own chest felt full of emotions that were impossible to put into words, so he didn’t try – not when he could communicate those feelings through his actions.

“And what does Shen-zhangjiao suggest?” Yan Wushi whispered, each word branding against the other man’s lips like the sweetest poison.

Shen Qiao wordlessly closed the distance between them, first with a chaste kiss of lips gently touching, and then almost instantly flared into a wet, messy clashing of mouths, teeth, and tongues initiated by Yan Wushi. Before long, however, even the demonic sovereign was feeling the radiating waves of heat and languor struck his muscles once more, and Shen Qiao was able to regain control by trapping Yan Wushi’s wrists to his sides while he counterattacked with biting kisses and soothing licks along the side of his neck.

Red and violet bruises bloomed like sweet fragrant alyssum blossoms where Shen Qiao’s mouth roamed, and the mere thought of the pure and virtuous Shen-zhangjiao of Xuan Du Sect marking him thus was making Yan Wushi harder than ever, and he made sure to let Shen Qiao know by releasing needy, broken moans of “Ah-Qiao” and “hurry”.

Soon enough, Shen Qiao had Yan Wushi’s robes removed and pants halfway tangled down his muscular legs, and while Shen Qiao had been imbued with an intoxicating sense of new-found confidence that had allowed him to initiate the kiss, yet as soon as he had laid bare Yan Wushi, his eyes roaming along the expanse of tanned skin and taut muscles aching to be touched and marred, the Daoist found himself hesitating once more.

He’d been kissing his way down his husband’s hipbone and the junction between his hip and thigh, and Shen Qiao could smell the musk of Yan Wushi’s arousal, which only served to make his cheeks heat up more. He froze at the sight of his husband’s swollen and dripping cock.

“You know…” Shen Qiao started, gaze downcast, “I have never done this before, so let me know if you feel any discomfort or pain…”

As if Yan Wushi needed that reminder.

He’d been trying so hard to maintain the last thread of self-control he had, too, and one innocent comment from his dear husband had completely shattered what sanity remained inside of him.

“My good Ah-Qiao,” Yan Wushi breathed out, reaching for the other man’s hands, and their fingers interlaced as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “no matter what you do to me, I am certain that I will have nothing but praises for you.”

Shen Qiao shook his head once and laughed softly, the sound and his expression so tender that Yan Wushi couldn’t help but squeeze his fingers tighter before guiding those same calloused hands to where Yan Wushi needed him to touch.

His cock was slick and hot – almost abnormally so, which Shen Qiao supposed made sense since this was a symptom of qi deviation – but it didn’t diminish the fact that it was big, the shine of pre-cum drooling from the tip simultaneously tempting and intimidating.

Shen Qiao swallowed at the sight despite Yan Wushi’s generous words, and tentatively, he licked the tip and contemplated the responsive shudder that ran up Yan Wushi’s spine.

A good sign, Shen Qiao mused quietly to himself, and then he did it again – small, experimental flicks of his tongue against the velvety skin of the head as if he was tasting a new flavor of candy. Shen Qiao decided he rather liked it, especially the interesting reactions his gesture seemed to be kindling in Yan Wushi, the way he hissed impatiently and tangling his fingers into Shen Qiao’s hair, tugging to beg wordlessly.

Encouraged by his husband’s response, Shen Qiao took it a step further, and envelope the entire head into the moist cavern of his mouth, first delicately wrapping his lips around the tip and taking care to not let his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there, then slowly swallowing Yan Wushi centimeter by centimeter until he found it hard to breath and his jaw began to ach.

“Gods, Ah-Qiao, you are going to be the death of me…” Yan Wushi murmured shakily, his hand cradling the back of Shen Qiao’s head gently while fingers idly played with his frost green hair ribbon. The cold silk felt like cooling water in the springtime against his fingertips, and it reminded Yan Wushi of that one night when he used that exact hair ribbon to tie Shen Qiao’s wrists while he had his way with him.

The memories didn’t serve him well, for a stream of unfathomable heat and prickling desire blazed down his meridian network and made his cock twitch in Shen Qiao’s mouth.

Shen Qiao’s eyes flickered up to check on his husband, and noticed that Yan Wushi had one arm thrown across his face in an attempt to muffle his moans. His hazel eyes darkened, and he resumed to sucking; where his mouth couldn’t reach, Shen Qiao made use of his hand at the base, pumping in time with the movement of his mouth and tongue and sliding wetly up and down Yan Wushi’s length.

Feeling his thighs beginning to shake at the anticipation of release, Shen Qiao pulled up but his hand didn’t let up its pace. He peppered contrastingly soft kisses along the inside of Yan Wushi’s thigh while his hand tugged in a tempo that was verging on brutal, but that was exactly what Yan Wushi needed.

It didn’t take long for him to climax into Shen Qiao’s hand with a choked groan, and strands of white landed on his own abdomen as well as on his husband’s still clean and meticulous robes.

“W-was that all right?” Shen Qiao asked, uncertainty tinting his hoarse whisper as he climbed back up to look at Yan Wushi properly. He was about to measure the man’s pulse again when he saw tear streaks down Yan Wushi’s cheeks. Heart seized up in a panic, he quickly dabbed the wetness away with his sleeve, a trail of apologies ready on his tongue.

Yan Wushi caught his forearm and planted a small kiss on the inside of his wrist.

“It was more than all right,” Yan Wushi assured him with a languid smile, releasing Shen Qiao’s hand and raising his arm up to brush his thumb against the other man’s red and abused lower lip, the colour so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but pull Shen Qiao down for a brief but dirty, open-mouthed kiss before murmuring against his ear once they both ran out of air, “in fact, I think I am already starting to feel better, but you know this husband needs more, right?”

Shen Qiao nodded, biting his lip. After easing off of Yan Wushi’s body, he shrugged off his soiled outer robe and moved to retrieve the ceramic vial that he knew his husband kept inside a hidden compartment by the side of their bed. He fumbled with the stopper until it popped out, and he shakily poured out a significant amount of carrageenan extract into his hand.

The texture of it was a little off-putting – a sticky gel-like consistency that reminded him of… another kind of bodily fluid – but he wanted to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt Yan Wushi in the process. After all, Shen Qiao himself wasn’t very experienced, and though this whole ordeal was nothing but a medical treatment, the sect leader of Xuan Du still needed to ensure that Yan Wushi would not be wounded further.

“You will tell me if I am hurting you, will you not?”

The concern in his eyes was genuine. Everything about Shen Qiao was genuine, and Yan Wushi used to think this kind of naturally honest nature was the trait of an absolute fool, yet here he was, in love with a so-called fool.

Maybe he was the one who’d become a fool after all this time.

He didn’t have enough time to contemplate any further than that, because Shen Qiao was kissing him on the mouth when he didn’t answer.

“Yan-lang?”

Yan Wushi couldn’t find it in himself to tease his husband this time, so with equal sincerity, he said, “I will, Ah-Qiao.”

“Good,” Shen Qiao nodded with a small satisfied smile.

With his fingers slicked up with lubricant, Shen Qiao once again returned his attention to his present task. He knelt between Yan Wushi’s legs, which he had opened up slightly wider to more easily accommodate his partner, and carefully slipped the tip of his middle finger into Yan Wushi’s puckered hole.

Unaccustomed to the strange sensation down there, Yan Wushi instinctively wanted to escape from the touch by closing his legs together, but Shen Qiao steadied him with his other hand by firmly pushing against his thigh while pushing his finger further in until the entire digit was swallowed up by the warm tightness.

“Nnng… Ah-Qiao… it feels odd…” Yan Wushi exhaled with a tremulous murmur.

“Odd in a good way or in a bad way?” Shen Qiao asked, stilling his motion and lifting his gaze back up to Yan Wushi’s face to observe his expression.

“Undetermined,” Yan Wushi decided, letting his eyes fall close and breathing out to try to relax his body. The unyielding roiling waves of gnawing desire had subsided a little after he’d climaxed earlier, but with his qi still stuck, that unwelcoming stream of energy was beginning to gather at the pit of his stomach all too soon, causing his cock to stir again even though he hadn’t been touched there yet.

“Hm,” Shen Qiao only hummed thoughtfully. He opted to continue for now.

He pumped his finger in and out a few times to allow Yan Wushi to get used to the sensation before he increased the pace and added a second finger, crooking them in a shallow angle to find the correct acupressure points. To Shen Qiao’s delight, the gesture caused Yan Wushi’s breathing to quicken, his chest rising and falling in tormented groans. His cock lengthened and swelled with blood, and was soon back to its full strength.

“Haaah… Ah-Qiao, keep going…”

The fingering had felt good – so damn good – even though Shen Qiao claimed that he was inexperienced. He must have picked up some skills from Yan Wushi during their previous intimate nights, for after the early moment of embarrassment and hesitation, the way he manipulated Yan Wushi’s body with his slender and calloused fingers had become proficient and deadly.

“I am going to start transferring my qi through your acupoints starting from the Qugu point,” Shen Qiao said, trying to tear his eyes away from Yan Wushi’s debauched expression – silvery-white and ink-black hair sticking to his sweat-slicked skin, eyes squeezed close, head craned back to expose the strong line of his throat, and the occasional moans slipping past his throat – but as he shifted his gaze back to where his fingers were, still buried deep within Yan Wushi’s hole, which had turned dusty pink and glistening from the extract around the ridge, Shen Qiao was starting to question his ability to carry on this operation.

“W-what?”

The feverish desire had reached its new height so that Yan Wushi was unable to think clearly. He was only vaguely aware that Shen Qiao said something and that he needed something much bigger and thicker to fill the void that was verging on swallowing his whole being.

“Never mind,” Shen Qiao said and took a deep breath to regain focus. With attentive eyes and precise execution, Shen Qiao directed the qi inside of his own body so that it flowed in a gradual stream towards the tips of his middle and ring fingers; when he grazed upwards, he aimed the flow of qi to the Qugu point, which was physically the closest to where his fingertips were.

From there, Shen Qiao pushed his qi forward, testing the give of the entire trail of Conception Vessel before forcing it through to the next acupoint, up Zhongji and pierced through to Guanyuan.

“Yan-lang, how do you feel?”

Yan Wushi had been chillingly quiet since Shen Qiao had started transferring his own qi into his husband’s body, and his abnormal silence made the Daoist thought that maybe the demonic sovereign was rejecting his qi due to their different martial arts origins.

“Ah-Qiao…” he gasped, eyes hooded and the blood-red of his irises just a thin ring from his fully dilated pupils, “too… too much…”

Shen Qiao’s heart thudded against his ribcage at how wrecked Yan Wushi sounded. He’d never seen the man like this, even when he was lost in the deepest end of pleasure, and somewhere buried, hidden, and shaped by years of Daoist teachings and morals was an instinctive part of Shen Qiao that had woken up from seeing this vulnerable, intimate side of the usually self-assured and strong Yan Wushi, the cold, ruthless, selfish leader of Huan Yue Sect.

“Yan-lang,” Shen Qiao caressed his husband’s cheek in comfort, wiping away a stray tear that’d escaped his eyes, “we are almost there, just hold on for Ah-Qiao’s sake. Will you do that for me?”

Yan Wushi closed his eyes and shook his head, and his body seemed to suddenly stop being pliant as well.

Shen Qiao’s qi couldn’t advance further; if he kept forcing it, he might risk injuring the rest of Yan Wushi’s meridian system, and that was the last thing Shen Qiao wanted.

“All right, all right,” Shen Qiao cooed, gently taking his fingers out.

Yan Wushi sighed out with a shuddering breath, half in relief and half in lament at the dizzying empty feeling.

If this method didn’t work, he might need to find another way. Shen Qiao was nothing if not resourceful.

“Ah-Qiao, I want you…” Yan Wushi grasped Shen Qiao’s right hand and placed it pointedly against his husband’s clothed arousal, the fabric of which had already been darkened from spots of precum.

“!”

Shen Qiao shuddered when Yan Wushi weakly squeezed his cock through his trousers.

Well, Yan Wushi never had been one to beat around the bush, so Shen Qiao didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

“I —” Shen Qiao paused. Verbally expressing his affection for his husband still didn’t come easily to him, but there were rare moments like this that he found it to be the simplest, most natural thing to do. “I want you, too, Yan-lang.”

The candles were burning dangerously low, and a few had already extinguished, casting the room deeper into the night.

After removing the rest of his clothing, Shen Qiao folded the blanket into a make-shift cushion and placed it under his partner’s lower back before settling back between Yan Wushi’s legs. With one hand wrapped around Yan Wushi’s waist to steady him and the other gently parting the two mounds of firm muscles to reveal the slightly swollen hole, Shen Qiao lined himself up.

All this time, he’d been so focused on mending Yan Wushi’s meridian network that he’d been neglecting his own desire, and now that it’d been freed from the restraint of his undergarment, it was clear that Shen Qiao had been holding back.

He started slow – for both Yan Wushi and his own sanity.

The tip went in easily enough from the ample preparation and Shen Qiao’s own precum lubricating the first part of the entry. The velvet heat that instantly surrounded him was intoxicating, and if Shen Qiao had less self-control, he’d have immediately slammed himself in as deep and hard as he could, but in the end, he managed to reign in that flaring craving that was slowly but surely burning his logic and patience into ashes.

Resisting the urge to thrust all the way in took all of Shen Qiao’s willpower; his knuckles turned white from how hard he was grasping onto Yan Wushi’s hips, which would surely leave bruises that the demonic sovereign would later smugly show his embarrassed husband.

Little by little, Shen Qiao pushed himself into that addictive and delicious heat, all the time still observing for any ailing changes in Yan Wushi’s body. If anything, it seemed having Shen Qiao slowly fucking himself into him only made him more vocal.

“D-do not stop, please… feels good…” Yan Wushi wasn’t helping a bit as he wrapped his legs tightly around Shen Qiao’s waist, imploring for him to go deeper.

Seeing that he wasn’t causing his partner any discomfort, Shen Qiao steeled himself and plunged all the way in until he was fully sheathed. He panted harshly into Yan Wushi’s mouth, who slipped his tongue sloppily into the offered mouth and teased Shen Qiao with filthy kisses that had them both breathing hard.

Shen Qiao finally lost that last strand of calm composure. Foreheads touching, eyes clouded by ravenous hunger, and forearms caging Yan Wushi’s yearning body between his arms, Shen Qiao pulled out slightly and thrusted back in, with enough force to make Yan Wushi gasp and scrambling for purchase.

He did it again and again, skin slapping against skin, the sound seeming to resonate within the walls of their sacred bedchamber, each time more urgent and more fervent than the last.

“Mnnn…. Fuck, Ah-Qiao feels so good inside me…”

“Haah… ah… do you feel no shame, Yan-zongzhu?” Shen Qiao nuzzled the side of Yan Wushi’s neck and kissed him roughly there, leaving more small bruises and teeth marks that wouldn’t fade for days.

“Aww… what happened to calling me ‘Yan-lang’?” Yan Wushi chuckled, placing one hand against the back of Shen Qiao’s head. A soft tug on the ribbon loosened the elegant twist of hair that cascaded over Shen Qiao’s pale shoulders like ink splashing on canvas. “Did I perhaps unknowingly anger Ah-Qiao?”

Shen Qiao paused, leaving only the tip of his cock inside his partner, which instantly drove Yan Wushi to buckle his hips upward in a sorry endeavor to tempt Shen Qiao into moving. He gave Yan Wushi a pointed glare, though the intended effect was dampened by the blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck and chest and the fact that he was, in fact, fucking Yan Wushi into their bed.

“You know what you did,” Shen Qiao mumbled, finding himself impossible to be truly mad at him in this current situation.

“Hmm…” Yan Wushi scattered soft kisses on the other man’s forehead, eyelids, the bridge of his nose, and finally licking the shell of his ear, he continued with a grin, “can it be that Ah-Qiao is flustered by what I said?”

“There is no need for you to be using such foul and explicit language,” Shen Qiao argued, turning his head away, but it only gave Yan Wushi the perfect angle to kiss down his neck and nibble his collarbone.

“Oh, but there is a need,” Yan Wushi countered, tightening his legs around Shen Qiao’s waist so that he was dragged back into where Yan Wushi needed him to be. The fullness that had at first felt overwhelming was now a welcoming sensation, and he could feel the few acupoints that Shen Qiao had sent his qi through had been cleared, but there were still two spots that he knew needed to be unclogged before his own torrent of qi could flow smoothly and safely. “I need to tell Ah-Qiao how well he had been treating this husband, do I not? And I cannot find the adequate language unless I am using those exact words. Is there something wrong with that? Does Ah-Qiao not like it when I give you compliments?”

“I-It is not like that!”

There was no use having a proper discussion with Yan Wushi’s twisted sense of logic, so Shen Qiao didn’t try to. Instead, he returned to his previous act, except this time he was thrusting in with more force and fire, almost like he was wordlessly taking his own personal vengeance against Yan Wushi’s body.

“Haaah… Ah-Qiao!” Yan Wushi groaned, casting a half-hearted accusatory glare at the other man when Shen Qiao hit the spot that made him see stars and his hole contract around his husband’s length. “… just because… just because you cannot see yourself winning the argument against this venerable one does not mean you should stoop to such low m— nnnng!” Distracted by the sudden onslaught of flickering flames licking down his back and in the pit of his stomach, Yan Wushi hadn’t noticed the fingers placed strategically across his abdomen until he felt a hot stream of foreign qi invaded his meridian network – just as Shen Qiao’s cock was sweetly, torturously invading his inside.

The pleasure that bloomed and erupted from the coil seated deep within him was blinding; it was wonderful and terrifying, devastating yet cherished. Yan Wushi hardly noticed Shen Qiao’s climax when he was still convulsing and quivering from his own release; thick ropes of milky white cum landed and splattered messily on his own chest and tainted Shen Qiao’s unmarred skin.

His mind was blissfully blank for a brief moment while he waited for Shen Qiao to come down from his high. He sensed more than knew that he was filled to the brim with his husband’s seed, and that the last acupoints had been broached to allow his qi to flow effortlessly again.

The last candle burned out, and the room sank into complete darkness except for the hint of watery light from the crescent moon outside.

“Yan-lang?” Shen Qiao wanted to pull out but an arm thrown carelessly around his lower back stopped him from doing so. He heaved a soft sigh but remained in Yan Wushi’s embrace, laying his head against his husband’s chest despite the sticky, sweaty mess they’d made of each other.

“Hmm?” his voice rumbled in the dark, like the earth trembling beneath Shen Qiao’s feet, the sound irritatingly lackadaisical yet strangely kept his heart and mind at peace.

“Your meridian network…?”

“Thanks to Ah-Qiao’s magnificent medical skills, I believe my qi deviation has been treated and my meridian network perfectly restored,” Yan Wushi said, playing with a strand of Shen Qiao’s hair.

Shen Qiao exhaled in relief.

“Though to be certain that it is entirely healed, we might need to have the same treatment performed again, under Shen-zhangjiao’s skillful practice, of course.”

“Yan Wushi!”

Shen Qiao slapped him on the bicep, which only made Yan Wushi snicker harder.

When his laughter finally died down, and he could hear Shen Qiao’s breathing mellowing, Yan Wushi combed his fingers soothingly through his husband’s slightly tangled locks and murmured against the crown of his head.

“Shen Qiao.”

“Hmm?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Ah-Qiao.”

Shen Qiao opened his eyes blearily and pushed himself up just enough to look at Yan Wushi, who was gazing at him with bright eyes and a tender smile.

“Yes?”

A bit of his lucidity returned at the sight of Yan Wushi’s expression.

“I promise you,” Yan Wushi held onto Shen Qiao’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, “from this day on, I promise that no matter what kind of problems I may encounter, Ah-Qiao will be the first to know. In return, will you promise to stay by this venerable one’s side no matter what may become of me?”

“Silly Yan-lang,” Shen Qiao pecked him lightly on the forehead before making himself comfortable on Yan Wushi’s chest again, “always.”

#thousand autumns #qian qiu #yanshen #shan he jian xin #yan wushi #shen qiao #bowie's crappy writing

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musette22 · 4 years

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is it weird that I can't even look at their pics right now (seb and chris) because I can't help but feel icky and disappointed? the recent evens reminded me that they are truly two rich and privileged white men who are so dumb just cos they wanna get some. I'm out. Maybe in a year or so I'll check what their projects are. maybe never. I just can't right now. what a shame.

Okay guys, I’ve been debating over whether or not to “open my big mouth” about this (as one anon so sweetly put it once), but I’ve been getting quite a lot of messages like this one and I think I do want to share a few thoughts with you all. I’m going to put them under the cut because this is a long one, and I don’t want to clog up everyone’s dash ❤️

First of all, let me just make it clear that I am fully aware of the severity of this pandemic, especially in some places, including in the US, and that I am in no way trying to make light of any of it or undermine how serious this situation is for a lot of people around the globe right now, many of you included. It’s a terrible situation, and it’s far from over. I’m also not aiming to be an apologist for the bad decisions of privileged white males just because I have a crush on them, because that idea is abhorrent to me, but I’m aware some of you might still feel like I am, and that’s your right.

Having said all that, I am getting a bit worried about all the posts I’ve seen about how people are angry and disillusioned with Sebastian and Chris’s behaviour. I’m not trying to invalidate your disappointment, because it’s totally fair to wish they’d made different decisions, more akin to the decisions you yourself presumably would have made. And if that disappointment goes deep enough then it is absolutely fair if you want to unstan them and stop following or supporting them (that does not extend to sending them hate though, that is not in any way acceptable, no matter how disappointed we are).

But, as anon rightfully points out, the fact of the matter is that they are privileged white male celebrities. This is not news. They (especially Chris) have been successful celebrities for a long, long time, and with celebrity come certain privileges. They can afford massive houses in LA and big apartments in expensive areas in New York City, for instance. They get to go to cool parties, they get free stuff, everyone kisses their ass. They get paid exorbitant amounts of money (Chris much more so than Seb of course) that bear no direct relation to their work and responsibilities anymore, at this point.

And that’s not to say they don’t work hard, they do - but so do most of us, and we’re not getting paid nearly as much as them. It’s inherently unfair, but that’s what celebrity culture (and capitalism) are. Now, I’m not saying everyone has to blindly accept the status quo and just ignore how unfair it all is – far from it. In some ways, I wish more people would denounce celebrity culture, because it is in some senses terribly toxic and unfair. But listen, if you want to stan celebrities because it brings you some joy in this fucked up world, then I think that’s also perfectly understandable. That’s what I’m doing too. And to stan celebs (at least of the calibre of Chris and Seb) we need them to be famous, otherwise we wouldn’t even know them and we would get no content to consume. They are famous because they are in Hollywood movies, and they are in Hollywood movies because they play the Hollywood game - to some extent, at least. Playing the Hollywood game means everything from flying all over the world for movie premieres and leaving a huge carbon footprint, to going to glitzy parties where there a are lots or questionable people present, to “lying” in interviews because of contractual obligations - and sometimes it also means playing along with fake PR rumours or relationships, even if it’s bad PR.

I know people are worried about Chris, and especially Seb, being “bought” by Hollywood and its money and temptations, and losing his integrity and that he won’t be that sweet, soft-spoken, well-read boy who loves his mom anymore. I personally believe that so far, both Seb and Chris have managed to maintain an impressive level of integrity throughout it all, and I’m still hopeful that that isn’t going to change (much).

But it’s not realistic to have the same expectations for them you would have for your loved ones for instance, because they’re not. We have zero relationship to them as people, and they owe us nothing. They give us movies and pictures of their pretty faces, and occasionally good advice or lovely hugs at comic cons, but that’s all we’re gonna get from them. They are not our friends or potential partners. They’re human of course, and in that sense just like you and me, meaning they have feelings and thoughts and a right to privacy and they make mistakes, but their circumstances are wildly different from most of ours. They’re surrounded by the Hollywood circus. They are PART of the Hollywood circus, because they’re actors and if you want to be a successful movie actor you have to play the game to some extent. Sebastian cannot be expected to be home all the time and decline going to parties because he prefers staying in with a good book even if he did prefer that, because that way he’d never be noticed by the people who matter, and who could get him where he wants to be. He said it himself, he’s an ambitious guy. He wants bigger roles, bigger challenges. And he’s not going to get them if he doesn’t do some annoying, dumb shit sometimes, unfortunately.

In my view, that doesn’t make him a bad person who doesn’t care about anyone but himself, but it does make him a privileged human. Being a privileged human also entails some responsibilities, though – if you don’t want to become corrupt, you have to make sure you also use your privilege for good. And in my opinion, both Sebastian and Chris do that. They use their voice and their money to help people less fortunate than them. That’s part of that integrity I was talking about. Some of you may disagree, and that’s fine, but this is how I view it.

As for everyone who is upset with them for traveling to Europe during a pandemic and not wearing a mask in public: I completely understand your frustration, and I am frustrated too. This is literally a deadly virus and it has to be taken very seriously, and unfortunately, they’re not taking it very seriously right now, and that kind of sucks. But the truth is, neither of them are breaking any rules and neither of them is being more callous than the majority of people in the countries they’ve been seen in are. The situation in most of Europe is stabilising (not everywhere, and the UK isn’t doing all that great to be fair), and governments are reopening their countries and facilities. Wearing a mask in the street is not mandatory in either Spain or the UK, except for in specific situations such as public transport or if you’re in certain professions. The rules here are different from those in New York etc. because they have been adapted to how each country is faring.

I live in the Netherlands, and no one here is wearing a mask in the street, not even in the hospital or at the doctor’s, and yet the situation continues to stabilise (I hope to god it stays that way, but that of course remains to be seen). From my friends in Spain and the UK I have heard the situation is much the same. Yes, Sebastian is acting differently from how he did in New York, but he’s in different circumstances too, so that makes sense. Moreover, both Chris and Seb will have been tested before traveling, because they’re privileged celebrities who have access to testing even where lots of normal folks unfortunately don’t.

Now, I’m not saying both guys shouldn’t just have stayed put and not left the country (especially a country where the virus is still rampant), because they should have, and they’re both dumbasses for not doing so. I am definitely disappointed that they’re not being smarter and more considerate about this, but I recognise that my disappointment in part stems from the fact that I put them on a pedestal that I shouldn’t have put them on in the first place. And I know a lot of you are mad at them for flying to Europe “just to get some”, but that is disregarding the fact that both Sebastian’s holiday and Chris’s trip to London seem to be at least partially for PR reasons, most likely pushed and arranged by their agency. The exact extent of how much of it is PR is still a little unclear to me at the moment, but I think it’s fair to assert at this point that they did not just fly to Europe to “get some.”

I know this is ridiculously long, but I have been thinking about all of this a lot these past few days and wanted to get those thoughts out! I hope most of you can understand where I’m coming from here. Love you guys ❤️

#minnie answers #and she uses a lot of words to do so #as usual #Anonymous

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oncefutureemrys · 3 years

Note

OK WAIT LOOK IK I SENT YOU A SHITTON OF TITLES BUT LIKE THIS SOUNDS SO CUTE SO LIKE only if you want to.... but....

18 w merlin & arthur ? ?

again only if you want to ahaha

hehehe of course!!!! this is so exciting!

Edit: I am an idiot and I apologize for dumb.

Anyway, hello! This is a thing I finished editing instead of sleeping.

Please enjoy!

Send Me A Prompt And Characters And I'll Do It!

You Can Find It On AO3 Here!

Arthur, in all of his life, had never really understood the concept of longing.

Maybe because he had rarely ever longed for much. Well sure, when he was a kid he had longed for that certain toy that someone else had, or certain books and sweet treats. Longed for some friends he could play with at school, for some people to hang out with after class.

Sometimes he would secretly wish that he had both a mother and a father like the other kids. Maybe a more understanding father, one that hugged him as all the other kids’ parents did. That let them cry and were always there to dry his tears. To ask how he was doing, not because they were looking for anything else, but just because they had wanted to know.

But Arthur was a resilient child and with time he had learned to adapt to the way things were, learned to accept them, and know that they would never change. Besides, he was fine living his life completely without longing. He even laughed about it a couple of times when he watched cheesy romantic movies, shouting at the screen at how “dumb” these characters were and how “everyone could clearly tell they were in love!”

But then, one thing or another happened, and Arthur somehow met Merlin Ambrose. Merlin Ambrose could be explained quite clearly as one of those people. Those people you wondered how they lived because everything just seemed to come naturally to them. Not to mention, he was someone who complimented as many people just to make their day, someone who gave teachers apples, but not in a teacher’s pet way but more in an I’m-very-sweet-and-care-about-people way, and was just constantly happy, always being a source of great happiness for people.

Needless to say, Merlin was sweet and kind and caring and resilient and brave and most definitely, Arthur’s best friend. He was everything he wasn’t and in a way, he was everything he needed.

He’s not sure how they became so close. He remembers them being a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend at one point, he remembers them sharing quick waves in the hallways, he remembers those shared looks across the classroom. He’s not sure when it all clicked; when the stars aligned, when the two became the best of friends. It seemed to be almost gradual… as if they were taking their time, slowly unpacking each other bit by bit.

However the case, six years later, three years into college, Arthur felt the beginnings of this… feeling in his chest. It was like pain, but in his heart, a pain that made him lose his breathe and complete focus.

He had asked his half-sister (and one of his closest friends beside Merlin, although he would never admit that in his wildest dreams), Morgana, about what it might mean. She had just stared at Arthur long and hard before laughing so loudly, holding her stomach. “Oh dear,” she had said after finally reigning in her chuckles and wiping her tears away, “You have got it bad.”

Honestly, he figured she was off her rocker because nothing she was saying was making any sense. Because… well, when she ended up explicitly telling him – quite disappointedly, might he add – that he was in love with Merlin , well nothing seemed to add up. Because, sure, there were instances where they looked at each other too long, where they sat a bit closer to one another, and Arthur had noticed their shoulders slightly brushing. There were times when the sound of Merlin’s laughter would make his heart sing with joy, times when his throat would get dry when he saw Merlin in tight clothing, times when he felt his face get flushed and stutter wildly whenever he whispered in his ear… but, well, that happened with everyone. There was nothing… going on about any of it. Morgana was just being her usual pain and sooner or later, this would all blow over.

But alright, maybe he was slightly missing the idiot. Maybe some days he would wake up and check his phone to see if he had texted back, maybe sometimes he would be so close to just calling him and talking with him till three in the morning, maybe sometimes he wondered if he could just get in his car and drive ten hours to his college just to say hello.

But that was that! There were no romantic feelings between them whatsoever. They were strictly… friends . The idea of a romance had never even crossed his mind before Morgana had mentioned it. And while Arthur could be an idiot sometimes, he surely couldn’t be that much of an idiot. No, he was positive he would know if he was in love with his best friend.

Right?

A knock on the door startles him from his thoughts, causing him to nearly jump. He wonders who the hell could be at his door this late in the day. He wants to ignore it but something deep within himself tells him that this might be a missed opportunity if he didn’t at least check.

And usually, he would check before opening it, he would make sure it wasn’t some kidnapper or some murderer about to kill him. But seeing as he was angry and sad and missing an idiot who he very much was not in love with, thank you very much, he forgot all about checking before shoving the door open.

He’s about to open his mouth, yell at someone for waking him at this late night, get out all of this excess frustration he held within him when his eyes met familiar blue ones and his mouth hangs wide open.

He’s looking at him with an amused, dazzling smile, and Arthur feels like he might pass out from the number of butterflies that are in his fucking stomach at the moment.

Merlin asks, “Did you miss me?” with the smugness of someone who knows he has and is just asking to sound cool and Arthur’s first instinct is to kiss the living daylights out of him.

The second option on Arthur’s What To Do In Social Situations That Involve Merlin Ambrose list is to lift him off the ground and hug the fuck out of him.

Arthur, without a second thought, grabs hold of Merlin, twirling him around. Merlin shrieks before laughing loudly, holding onto him for dear life. The hug ends quickly, however, when Arthur loses balance and they both topple to the floor.

They find themselves sprawled on the ground, shaking with laughter in the middle of a hallway, their sides hurting with how hard they’re laughing.

“Why—“ he gasps – “did you –“ another intake – “do that?” Merlin asks and Arthur can’t help but laugh breathlessly, turning to look at him.

“I missed you,” he says without explanation, only realizing afterward what he has just said.

Merlin grins back at him. “I missed you too.”

He shivers imperceptibly at the way that Merlin is looking at him, slight goosebumps on his skin. At that moment, Arthur has never felt happier, never felt more alive. His heart is pounding with joy and he can’t help but grin back at him.

Merlin stands and pulls Arthur up. The contact of their hands sends a jolt of electricity through him and Arthur flushes in embarrassment.

They were maybe four feet apart but it felt like less with the way Merlin was looking at him, all pure and happy and loved . Arthur takes a sharp intake when Merlin smirks, taking a small step closer, slightly hesitating as if he’s worried he’s read the situation wrong. When Arthur doesn’t move, Merlin takes another small step. Then a bigger one. Then another and another and then—

Their feet are touching, they’re so close that he can hear Merlin’s breathing, can visibly see the way that he licks his lips, the way he slowly leans in. They’re mere inches apart at this point, Merlin stopping just centimeters from his face. Arthur’s internally freaking out at this point because he’s never been so close to kissing someone before and fuck , he was an idiot and in love with him and holy shit he was in love with Merlin Ambrose and he seemed to love him back and what the fuck does he do what is happening he —

“Can I come in?”

Arthur jumps, startling so much he nearly falls. “S-sorry?”

Merlin grins. “Can I come in… to your room? I didn’t exactly want to stay out here for the rest of the day.” He gestures towards the hallway and Arthur’s face somehow burns even more.

“I—yeah, uh, sure, yes.” Arthur opens the door, scratching his neck before awkwardly gesturing inside. Merlin simply raised his eyebrows, smiling amusedly at him before entering.

“Thank you,” he says. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his cheekbones become more prominent… Arthur has never felt this much love and panic in his entire life.

Arthur just nods, suddenly questioning how anyone else could function properly around Merlin fucking Ambrose.

Taking one last breath of fresh air, straightening his shoulders, and feigning confidence, he walks into his apartment, hoping he won’t make a fool out of himself today He wasn’t sure how exactly his life had gotten to this point, but fuck, did he feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Hope you all enjoyed that hahaha I am sorry once again to Gwyn but hopefully the story makes up for it... pretty please...sugar on top?

#merthur #oblivious arthur #confident merlin #general audiences #modern au - college/university #morgana being morgana #merlin being best boi #arthur being a himbo #basically the story hahah

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wh33zy · 4 years

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My Read on Domestica: The Couple Probably 4 people care about, 5 if they’re lucky

Good evening! Tonight, I wanted to analyze Domestica (Yoshiyuki Hatori x Yoshino Chiaki) as requested by the amazing @boyimtrash . I will be analyzing them both separately and then together. They are infamous in ways that to this day still has them on the receiving end of hate and unpopularity. They are probably the least acknowledged couple in all of Nakamura’s works and for some pretty good reasons.

This couple gained infamy just in the beginning of their story in their light novel because of Hatori raped Chiaki. While sexual assault and dubious consent is a running theme in Nakamura’s works, this one was so blatantly rape that the author ended up getting some backlash for it thus why it was left out of the manga and anime with anything concerning Domestica. Other than that, the common criticism for them is their story being quite bland, even though it was equipped with a love triangle. I think it’s because of this that most of their story has been cut from the manga as well as the anime leading the reader to have to delve into whatever light novels are available for answers beyond rushed references and such.

Yoshino Chiaki:

Hate to break to you guys but, uh....this guy? Yeah, far from a cinnamon roll. I mean, if ditsy, selfish, overly immature, not self-aware, and wildly inconsiderate equals a cinnamon roll then you might as well kick Misaki and Nowaki out of that gang. The way he gets stuck in his own head (and how stuck he is in his way) which not only puts out Hatori but his manga team as well.

The kicker is that, unlike Hiroki, this person is completely aware of being selfish and inconsiderate evident by the way he apologizes to Hatori about it but does nothing to change. I’m positive this stems from the fact that he relies heavily on Hatori for a lot of things that he should be taking care of himself. Even this he realizes since he tends to feel “disgusting” when Hatori does all these things for him but still does nothing to change and we’re in our early thirties here, folks!

This kind of brings me to another major problem he has: he’s resistant to change. When he’s really comfortable in a spot, for example where his friendship is with Hatori and Yuu, Chiaki will not go out of his way to make any changes even if they are the right thing to do. This is evident by the way he decides to keep what’s going on between him and Hatori from Yuu in order not to complicate their friendship trio.

Chiaki, although more of a homebody than a lazy housecat, is a very hard worker, of course I’m not going to take that from him. My guy will ignore his basic needs like food, water, and grooming. He put his all into every manga page he works on, even working on it here and there on his time off, so his life revolves around his art. He’s extremely dedicated to his craft and often gets so absorbed into it that he blocks out the world around him. He fully deserves his success.

On this note, Chiaki tends to take a lot of Hatori’s criticisms/advice to heart, especially in regard to his work. Everything from thoughts and opinions, even drunken complaints, they are always in Chiaki’s thoughts. While this could mean a lot of things in regard to why he has no boundaries with Hatori, Chiaki will at least try his best meet whatever standards Hatori is implying. Even with Hatori’s harsh language, Chiaki on some level knows not to take it to heart.

While this is good, Chiaki tends to be afraid to share any criticisms he may have or arguments because of Hatori’s cold/usual harsh responses. Not to mention he’s also intimidated by his superior way of acting even though they’re the same age. This only gets worse after Hatori assaults him, and when afterwards, Hatori kisses him as “punishment” making it hard for him to communicate with Hatori the way he needs to. I think Hatori has always and will always intimidate him on some level.

Chiaki also cares so much about what his readers think. Not just from automatically taking any advice on Hatori about shaping his art to be better digested but also the reason why his author identity is a secret. Chiaki has always had trouble with other assuming that he was a girl since his first name is generally very feminine. So, when he made his pen name, he assumed that it would be better understood that he was a man. However, because he is writing shoujo manga (which, generally more girls read) and also because his pen name Yoshikawa Chiharu still sounded feminine, fans assumed he was a girl. So, in order not to confront that and possible disappoint his readers, Chiaki keeps his identity as an author hidden from the public.

Chiaki is also the kind of person who is very passionate about their likes and an all-around fun loving person. From the way he got excited with Yuu about The Kan to going to all the events he can. I assume this is the part of him that gave him success in dating, since he’s had a few girlfriends in the past and as far as we know, is till on good terms with them.

Chiaki is also a pretty nice guy all around. When it comes to his friends, he genuinely wants to help them and be there for them in the best ways he knows how. This is evident from the way he wanted to help Hatori with his unrequited love situation before he found out and having his ex show him houses that Hatori expressed he liked in a commercial (which he was also indirectly asking if they could live together).

Yoshiyuki Hatori:

First, I’m going to say I understand why he comes off pretty cold for a good portion of the story. In fact, I don’t really blame him (at least until he just up and assaults Chiaki which I do fully blame him because we do not victim blame in my mothafuckin’ house, no we don’t). Imagine the person you’re in love with, who knows full well that you have feelings for them and has procrastinated on giving you an answer, and they are constantly: invading your space, sleeping in your bed, expecting to be taken care of, and saying things that could be easily taken in a romantic context. You’d cop an attitude too, it’d feel like you were being led on or just plain used at that point because it’s so obvious that the person you’re in love with doesn’t care about your feelings and more about what you can do for them.

However, I don’t excuse the blatant selfishness this person displays all before Chiaki finds out about his feelings in the light novel. Sure, Hatori was under stress of working for a pretty inconsiderate person as well as Yuu’s assholery but some of the harshness he displays towards Chiaki is because of his feelings for him. He was pretty bitter about them and his mood would dampen a lot of Yuu was in the mix or his unrequited love was mentioned. He hints that he likes someone (Chiaki assumes it’s a girl) and Hatori admits that he doesn’t think it’ll go anywhere. Of course, this is frustrating and heartbreaking but it seemed as though he was taking the unrequited love he felt out on Chiaki which I thought was kinda gross. It’s not Chiaki’s fault nor his responsibility that his person caught feelings and on some level, I think Hatori is aware.

In relation to this, even though Hatori is meant to be more mature, there are several instances in the light novel really showing that he isn’t too far from Chiaki. His friendship with Yuu, if you could even call it that, always seemed strained as if he never liked Yuu to begin with. Yuu also didn’t like Hatori. This is evident when Chiaki describes his observation of them that they always seem to talk badly about each other in implications. This was because of jealousy since, for a while, it seemed as though Chiaki and Yuu got a long a lot better. Also, when he finds out about Yuu’s feelings only push him to resent Yuu more.

Although Hatori is like this, I can say that he has other ways of showing that he loves Chiaki. For example, Hatori will cook for him, do his laundry, and not enforce boundaries as often as he really should. He also promised Chiaki when he expressed wanting to drop out of uni that if he ever ended up on the streets, Hatori would take care of him. However, I think some of this comes from a bit of desperation as Hatori’s feelings for him are so strong that he’ll take what he can get. This is also evident from the scene where he and Chiaki share his bed and he suddenly cuddles Chiaki when setting the alarm clock.

Like Chiaki, Hatori is actually a really hard worker on top of being incredibly talented at his job. According to the light novel, Hatori has gotten a lot of offers from different companies but chose Emerald and Chiaki’s division in order to be as close to Chiaki as possible.

This kinda brings me to the fact that there is some of Hatori’s identity lost in trying to be with Chiaki. I feel like I don’t really know him without Chiaki which I find to be a bit concerning. Even though they are childhood friends, Hatori kind of framed his life around having Chiaki as close to him as possible. He chose his college, major, and career all based around Chiaki. Although that could be seen as something selfless, I think it’s rooted in a selfish monopolizing desire and the assault only proves this.

A major issue with Hatori is his trouble with expressing his feelings, especially ones that run quite deep. I find this to be a worrying trend in pretty much all the SIH couples (ESPECIALLY TAKANOPE HOLY SHIT-). Hatori seems to hold them in, keep them from the one person who should know, and then act strangely when they’re really affecting him. While Hatori just keep his true feelings to himself, he doesn’t necessarily hide them since he tends ot act on them in some form or another. The only answer to why is because of a crippling fear of rejection.

Later on though, he does get better at expressing himself and even letting his face show emotions but that’s only for Chiaki’s eyes to see as evident by the way he’ll smile or is comfortable enough to get hammered around him.

The Couple: One of the biggest and reoccurring issue between them has been finding the line between their personal and professional relationship. This is become less and less of an issue as their story goes on, but it was hard for them both to find a balance. While it felt like their professional relationship was too personal, their personal relationship felt too distant. It really wasn’t until they became a couple that they basically erased that line all together. Even still, they have issues with intimacy and being more comfortable around each other which becomes a little better with time.

I also found that they don’t have great communication. They pretty much take ideas and what they think would be best for each other and run with it without really talking to each other about it as evident by the house fiasco early in their relationship and so on. While I do believe their hearts are in the right place in terms of trying to do things that will make the other happy, they need to work on being more open with each other.

So, let’s talk about the assault real quick: Hatori does show major instant remorse over the assault, acknowledges that it was inexcusable and should have never happened, and I will admit that it was definitely a lot faster than Akihiko did in Romantica. He was willing to completely start over his life in order to get out/stay out of Chiaki’s after what he did. When Chiaki gave him the chance to start over, he was hesistant to take his forgiveness but eventually accepted. I think a part of this stems from the fact that they both want to be a part of each other’s lives at all costs.

Which brings me to what makes these two a little unique from the rest: they are ridiculously attached to each other. I know there are a lot of different interpretations for why Chiaki was so desperate to stop Hatori from leaving, why Hatori never really enforces his boundaries, and why they both get super upset at just the thought of them being with other people (and doing things with friends without each other!). I think their relationship has always been just a bit farther than friendship due to their attachment. I also think this is why showing affection is generally easier because not only have they known each other for almost their entire lives but also because of the strong attachment they feel towards one another. I think this always explains why they’re a bit prone to jealousy.

And that’s the end here! If anyone would like to add on, please do so! Sorry that this analysis took so long! My classes have been back in full swing since the start of this month. Also, having to read the light novel was difficult because learning disabilities and such.

Also a very special thanks so much to @youmeandteddybears for the link to the light novel! I didn’t want to do this analysis unless I had all the information I could gather! Couldn’t do it without you so thanks again!

DISCLAIMER: I was unbiased and this analysis is based off of evidence in the manga/light novel as well as my interpretations of the work. Remember folks: these are fictional characters, this is art (so there is a level of subjectivity), and this is all in good fun! Be civil, BE CHILL.

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #sekaiichi domestica #domestica #yoshino chiaki #hatori yoshiyuki

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