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russellbee · 3 months ago

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DONE LOOKIN’ FOR SIGNS IN THE GAPS AND THE SILENCE (LN4, MF)

lando norris x childhood bff!reader x max fewtrell (she/her) summary. the timeline of your friendship with lando and max, leading up to the day they finally become yours. (writing, small smau) (5.2k) warnings. conflicting thoughts on polyamory, cursing, mentions of drinking alcohol, a nameless older sister that's basically a plot device :P andi's note!! IT'S HERE!! i hope you all enjoy :D! gonna go eat dinner 😊 (title from decode by sabrina carpenter) -> the inspiration/original

nav+masterlist • tags: @aykxz98 & @makanirock05 :)

July 2013 — 14 years old

You've come to the decision that you hate Italy. Which is not true, but the heat clinging to your skin has made you a bit irrational. It's not all the heat, but it's easier to blame something intangible on your bad mood than your actual problem. Your sister speaks — something about water or the weather , you're not sure — before walking off.

You watch her leave, the anger festering in you releasing through you harshly pulling your arms out of your suit. The sleeves flop beside you, resting on the pavement. You stare at them for a second, feeling sick in the stomach.

A liability. Why do you even keep going, then?

In November, your parents will tell you what you already know, but they'll dress it nicely. The harsh version is: You have no future in racing; you'll have to find something else to do. There's still a couple of months, but you can feel yourself already missing the thrill of karting and getting a cool trophy to decorate your room with. It's not fair, truthfully, but your sister had been a warning. You're just following her footsteps now.

This whole week, you've watched the boys around you, the ones wearing the same suit as you, racing carefree because they don't need reassurance that they can go far. They will, most likely. You've had a bitter taste on your tongue since overhearing your father's phone call. You shouldn't have listened.

"Are you okay?" You blink, looking up at who spoke. He's wearing a Ricky Flynn suit, bright and obnoxious. But he also looks genuine, like he cares about how you're doing. That's new.

"Um, I'm fine." As an afterthought, you add, "Thanks." He could be about your age, but you wouldn't be surprised if he's younger. He's probably around the same height as an elf.

"Do— Would you want to get lunch with Max and me? It's not— like our parents are gonna be there. Obviously. But we think you're cool, and we want to hang out with you." When he's stopped speaking, he lets out a breath like he didn't breathe the entire time. "I'm Lando, by the way." Max? He can't be talking about Verstappen because you're pretty sure he went home directly after his race. So, Fewtrell, then. The longer you squint at Lando, the more you remember him hovering in the background of your memories, Max Fewtrell by his side.

"I'd have to ask my sister." His whole face lights up, and it's ridiculous but endearing at the same time. "Yeah, cool. Cool."

You get lunch with Lando, Max, and their families. Your sister exchanges your parents' information with theirs, and there's a silent promise to hang out again. It's nice, a bit of weight off your shoulders.

You even get to spend your weekend in Italy, a rare permission from your parents. When you get home, your digital camera, the one you'd gotten for your most recent birthday, is full of photos. Your sister helps you get them printed out, and together you decorate the walls of your room with your photos. At night, you stare at the singular framed photo on your nightstand; you, Lando, and Max huddled together in a restaurant booth. It stays there until you move out.

December 2015 — 16 years old

The cold air bites your exposed skin when you step out onto the street. Lando hisses like a cat at the feeling, hunching his shoulders, and bringing his arms closer to his body. As you laugh, you can see your breath in the air, like a fog. Max pulls his beanie off his head, fitting it over Lando's, who squeaks at the sudden intrusion. "If you don't stop pouting, I'm taking it back." He adds, rolling his eyes when Lando huffs.

"I'm not pouting! I'm just saying we could've left earlier, and it would've been a bit warmer." Max pushes Lando in the back, urging him to start walking. They fit themselves beside you, Max on your left and Lando on your right. "How are we supposed to see the lights then? The whole reason we're leaving now is to see all the decorations and stuff." Max teases, raising an eyebrow at Lando. He goes to speak but he closes his mouth, eyes trained on your face.

"Right. Yeah, ‘bet they'll look cool." Your face feels too hot for this weather. You keep your eyes forward and try to ignore the feeling of their eyes on you, sneaking glances like you don't know. Once the Christmas market is in your view you speed up your pace. Distantly, you can hear Max speak — such a suck-up, mate — and Lando's offended noise. You can imagine how red he must look.

"Hurry up!" You yell, not even looking back. You stop near the entrance to the market, pulling your camera from your coat pocket. Scratches litter the outside, but luckily not the lens, some that you've covered with random stickers you've come across. There are also two distinct signatures, small but noticeable. So when we go pro you can sell it, be as rich as us. Lando had said, and you had rolled your eyes and told them earnestly you wouldn't sell it. They both turned bright red, and you chose not to acknowledge it.

You turn it on, panning the camera around the market to see if your photos might look good. They won't, you know it. Your camera's too old, and it was never excellent even when you first got it. But you like the memories, even if your favorites are too blurry to understand. You finally turn around, Max and Lando coming into view on the tiny screen. Before they can notice, you take a photo, laughing at Max's groan when he realizes. He'll always complain about you and Lando's theatrics, but he's just as dramatic.

In the photo, Lando is smiling bright, his cheeks rosy red. Max is blurry from his sudden movement, but you can make out his smile in the mess of colors.

You stay at the market till it closes, eating too much food and drinking an absurd amount of hot chocolate. Your SD card is full when you get home because Lando had snatched your camera when you were distracted. It's only 10 pm when you get back to your sister's apartment, so you decide to watch a movie on the pull-out couch.

When the light floods through the windows in the morning, you're still there. Lando is on your right, and Max on your left. They're both turned toward you, their heads resting on your shoulders. Lando's curled up against your side, and one of Max's legs rests on top of yours. It's too much. You wouldn't mind if it was just one of them, but both is suffocating. It feels wrong, to have them this close to you.

You hold your breath and leave the couch as quietly as possible. Your sister's bedroom door is ajar, and you slip into her bed like you were supposed to last night: Sharing beds like you had ten years ago. She blinks at you as you get comfortable, tugging her comforter closer to you. "I was wondering when you were going to join me." You huff, turning so she can't see how flustered you are. "Nice night with your boys?"

"Stop talking," You grumble. She laughs and lets it be; for now.

Lando and Max leave in the afternoon, heading back to their parent's houses. You lay on the couch, knees tucked against your chest as you go through the photos on your camera. The ones Lando took are noticeable, a bit blurrier than yours, and much more focused on human subjects. You and Max, specifically. In some of the photos, Max's annoyance at Lando is visible, but you can see underlying fondness in his smile and his eyes. You blink at the photos of yourself, finding similar qualities in your own face, with no difference for who you're looking at. You turn off your camera and stare into space for a bit. Your boys.

It feels greedy, to like them both. But then, if you have one, you leave out the other. There's no winning, is there?

Your sister flops onto the couch, her legs invading your personal space. You glare at her, extending your legs in retaliation. She doesn't acknowledge it, instead asking; "How'd your photos come out?"

You stare at the blank screen for a second, remembering the warmth in your eyes as you looked at Lando behind the camera. "Fine." She raises a brow, used to your rambles and rants about your pictures. Her foot nudges your ankle, bringing your eyes back to her.

"Is it what I said?" Your body goes hot, and you focus on anything other than her. "No." She sighs, pulling her legs closer toward her, giving you space. The silence is uncomfortable as you both think of something to say.

"It's fine if you like both of them, you know?" You barely think before you speak, spitting out an answer as fast as possible. A shield from your actual wants and feelings. "It's not normal." Your sister frowns before her lips twist into a teasing smile.

"Since when have you been normal? Or, any of you." You stare at her, not saying anything but not backing down either. "It's not— If all three of you like each other, you could date. It's a thing people do. If you think for whatever reason that dating them isn't going to make you happy, don't. But I know you like them and they make you happy right now. You could...try."

You can't speak, unknown words lodged in your throat, and a war in your mind. She leaves you to think, and you don’t talk about it again for a while.

November 2018 — 19 years old

Lando's birthday is no longer something intimate, spent in one of your bedrooms or a random hotel room with a shitty pre-made cake. Apparently.

When you get to the pub Lando had sent you the address of, you don't expect to see multiple tables pushed together, heaps of people you've never seen before sitting around them. You know Lando's becoming a bigger deal. He'll be an actual F1 driver in a couple of months. It's just different, but you won't complain.

You spot Max near the end of the table, and his eyes light up when he spots you. He waves you over, and you notice a chair beside him, his puffer coat taking its seat. You fight back a smile at something so simple. Nothing but a friendly gesture, right?

You maneuver through the chairs around the tables, too many people squished together in an effort to be included. Max has moved his coat so it rests along the back of his chair, and as you near him, you can hear him asking people to shuffle their chairs in. He smiles at you as you sit down, bright and charming.

"There's more people than I expected, to be honest." You mutter, looking for Lando in the mess of people. You recognize some: like Alex and George, sitting not far but clearly in their own world. "Yeah, I know, right." It's not a question, more of an annoyed grumble. You follow his gaze, finding Lando with a girl hanging off his arm. She's ridiculously pretty, maybe a little older. A model, or an influencer? How did Lando meet her?

"I— Is that like his girlfriend or something?" You whisper, your voice weak. Max glances at you, and his eyes seem to study your face before looking back at Lando. "I mean, I dunno. He's never mentioned her or anything."

"But she's here?"

"Yeah." Max sounds a little dejected, and you wonder if he knows how hard he's gripping the neck of his beer bottle. His face looks tight: his jaw clenched and eyes piercing into Lando. Who hasn't looked over; nor spared you a glance since you arrived. Did he even see you?

You slip your hand over Max's, prying his fingers from the bottle. He looks at you, a silent question in his eyes before he lets you take it. You both stare at each other as you bring the bottle to your lips. The second you taste the bitterness of the beer, you screw your eyes shut, but drink it anyway. Max lets out a short laugh as you put the bottle back on the table, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"That's horrible." Max smiles, not as bright as before but, still him. "Yeah, but it's a good distraction from...that." He waves his hand in the general direction before freezing. You have another staring contest, and for a second, it looks like Max might say something, but he doesn't.

"Well, we have each other, right?" It's awkward, the silence painful. Then, Max swallows heavily, a weak yeah, leaving his lips before he takes the final swig of his beer.

You don't talk to Lando the entire night, and when it becomes clear that he'll be going home with his mystery stranger, you offer Max a night at yours.

You stumble on the uneven cobblestone street that leads up to your apartment, having split too many beers with Max. Though, he is considerably more sober than you.

It feels like the air is punched out of you when Max's hand hesitantly touches your waist. You look up at him, his eyes shiny under the streetlights and a small smile on his lips. Then you back him up against the nearest building and with a quick glance at the street number, realize it's yours.

"You good?" His words are a little breathless, his hand hovering instead of touching now. Your right-hand grips the collar of his jacket, your left probably holding his hip too tightly. "Yeah, all good."

"Um." Max looks around a bit, and you realize he might be waiting for you to let him go. You don't want to. "I like you." Your words become one, but you know Max hears you because his eyes go wide. He relaxes a bit, his smile returning.

"Yeah, I—." You don't let him finish, pulling him into a kiss as soon as you know. His words turn into a small groan, and he finally grabs your waist for real. It's everything you ever wanted; a kiss from one of them. Your boys. One of Max's hands gently touches the back of your neck, moving you closer to him. When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.

"But I...y'know." You can't get yourself to say it, but Max knows. "Lando?" Of course, he knows.

"Don't," He takes a breath, cutting himself off and pulling away slightly. "Me too, honestly."

You drag Max into your flat, and stay up late, talking about all the things you both want from Lando but are too scared to ask for. In the morning, you wake up with Max on your left and your phone buzzing on your right. Lando's pissy about you apparently not being at his party, and you wake up Max with your argument over the phone. He helps you calm down, assures you that you haven't accidentally torn your friendship apart, and then takes you on your first date. You can't win, but having Max by your side is close.

July 2019 — 20 years old

Max picks you up from a bus stop in Silverstone and immediately pulls you into a kiss. You make a surprised sound before kissing him back. His passion is overwhelming but not bad.

He's got a big, bright smile on his face when he pulls away. "Hello, uni grad." You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a muttered, fuck off. Max laughs, pulling you right back to him.

"I really wanted to be there, y'know." His playful tone has slipped away, replaced with fondness and a tinge of guilt. "I know, it's fine. My parents miss you, by the way." You kiss his cheek, your pointer finger hooked in his shirt collar to pull him toward you.

Max grins, tugging you toward his rental car, right hand in your left. "They're my biggest fans, I think." You split, letting go of his hand to head toward the passenger seat. "That's not true. You've got me cheering for you." The, and Lando, goes unsaid but, you know he heard it.

In Max's hotel room, your bag gets thrown to the floor in the haste of pushing Max onto his bed. Your hands creep under his shirt, cold hands on his hot skin. "Hi," You grin down at him, hovering above him, your legs straddling his. "Missed you." Max pulls you down for a kiss, his hand heavy against the back of your neck.

You inch closer to him, hands sliding further up his shirt: feeling every inch of him. Max's other hand grabs your thigh as he leans up, deepening the kiss.

"Oh my God!" You jump at your sister's voice, flipping over so you're lying on the bed beside Max. "What the fuck?" You curse, eyes going from Max to your sister, then Lando. He looks like he ate something sour, lips screwed up weird.

"Max texted us that you were here," She explains with a teasing smile that falters when she sees Lando's face. "We need to talk," She grabs you by the wrist, pulling you into the en suite. The door shuts harshly behind her, and she locks the door. She's dressed in a papaya polo because Lando vouched for her to get a job on his team. He's complained about her constant mothering, but he asked for it.

"What about Lando?" She seethes, voice quiet because you both know how thin hotel walls can be. You stare at her, your arms wrapped self-consciously around yourself. "We— It's just better this way, alright? He doesn't need any more unnecessary attention. Plus, he doesn't even—."

"Don't say he doesn't like either of you. I have seen him smile like a fucking idiot at your group chat. I have suffered through his questions about whether he's pissed you or Max off because you're 'taking too long' to respond to a text. He likes you. Stop being stupid. Both of you, honestly." She rolls her eyes, her gaze just as harsh as her words.

"You good, mate?" Max asks after a beat of silence, both of them having watched the bathroom door slam shut. His eyes have a sheen to them Max doesn't want to acknowledge, and his lips have been stuck together like they've been glued. "Why didn't you tell me?" Lando sounds hurt, devastated that you'd gone behind his back. Max gets it, but he's had time to figure it out. Neither of you have been hiding it.

"I mean, we thought you'd figure it out?" Truthfully Lando knowing was never really discussed. A silent agreement had hung over the both of you because neither of you wanted to know how Lando would react.

"Congrats, I guess." Lando scuffs his shoe against the carpet, not looking at Max.

"Right. Thanks."

December 2019 — 20 years old

yourusername 🏔️🩵 (tagged landonorris, maxfewtrell)

liked by yoursister and others

maxfewtrell 👋🩵 (liked by yourusername)

landonorris sick pics 👍

yourusername thanks lan 🙃

yourfriend cuteee! (liked by yourusername)

yoursister no lando?

yourusername he's in the last pic? 😐 yoursister not what i meant (commented deleted by author) yoursister right didn't see him there!

August 2020 — 21 years old

You walk into the bedroom in your flat that you share with Max, a plastic bag in your hand. Guilty pleasure foods and sugary drinks. An in-the-moment fixer-upper. You turn on the light, finding Lando lying on Max's right, head on his shoulder, watching him mindlessly scroll on his phone. No one says anything for a bit before Lando goes to get up. "You can stay," You swallow heavily, feeling like there's a lump in your throat. "If you want." He stops, sinking back into the bed.

It's fine. It's everything you've ever wanted, but it's not true. Max is yours, and Lando's like an addition. He'll be here tonight, but maybe never again.

You drop the bag on your desk chair, pulling off the hoodie you wore to the shops. It was too hot out for it, but you didn't want to let go of it; Max's cologne clinging to every thread. One of them makes a little noise as your shirt rides up like the hoodie doesn't want you to go. Lando probably. You know what Max sounds like.

You hesitate before slipping into bed to the left of Max. Lando's on his other side, clinging a little. His head is back on Max's shoulder, and his arm is wrapped loosely around your boyfriend's. You shuffle closer to Max, and he hesitantly wraps his arm around you, eyeing you. Are you okay with this? You sling your arm around his chest with ease, your hand resting by Lando's face. Yeah. Obviously.

You're all silent except for your breathing.

Max huffs after a moment, dropping his phone so it lays on him. "It's too hot for this." Truthfully, it is. But you don't want to admit it, and neither does Lando. You roll your eyes, "The fans on. We'll be fine." Max shifts, putting his phone somewhere else without moving away from either of you. You close your eyes, your head tucked near the crook of Max's neck.

"Go to sleep," Lando mumbles, and you can hear Max grumble. His body relaxes under you, and you can feel his head move, tilting toward Lando. It's the quickest you've fallen asleep in months.

You wake in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and lying half on Max. Lando's eyes blink at you in the dark, but you can't make out the rest of his face. You move your hand, your fingers gently brushing against his face. He breathes in harshly, eyes darting to Max's sleeping figure. "We both want you here, y'know? I don't mind. I'm sure Max doesn't either."

Lando blinks, then again and again. "Yeah, that's cool. I'll...I'll be here. When you want me to." His fingers ghost your hand, and you can feel the heat of his hand even if the touch is barely there. "We always want you." He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and then you can't see the shine of his eyes anymore, and the heat of his hand is gone. You hesitate before moving your hand, letting it linger near him. If he ever wants it back. You back.

August 2022 — 23 years old

In your hotel room in Ibiza, room service has been ordered. Lando is digging through his suitcase, and Max is looking at a collection of photos on his phone; taken over the past few days. You've only been in Ibiza for a couple of hours, work keeping you from joining them sooner.

You're almost sleeping, your head resting on Max's shoulder and looking at the photos through bleary eyes. Fucking early flights. There's a knock on the room door, and Max gets up to answer it. You fall onto the bed with a groan, curling up into a ball. Lando laughs in the distance.

A finger prods at your spine, and you bend your back, trying to get away from it. "C'mon, get up. Food's here." You nuzzle your face in the sheets with a muffled, "Let me sleep." Max moves, footsteps trailing off in the distance.

"You hate cold food. Get up." Lando's hands prod at your sides, and you squirm, sitting up to get away from him. "Asshole," You curse, ignoring the heat in your face. Lando giggles, heading toward the balcony where the plates have been set. You stretch, groaning at the feeling, before joining them on the balcony.

You sit next to Max and go to dig into your food when you notice a wrapped box on the table. "What's that?" Lando visibly brightens, grabbing the box and extending it toward you. "I was gonna give it to you at Silverstone ‘cause I thought you were coming. But, y'know." You take the box hesitantly, nodding along to what Lando says.

You had intended to go to Silverstone with Max, but then a project at work was fumbled by a coworker and you had to pick up the pieces. It was nice to hear Max's recaps of the day, with Lando's comments in between; on the phone with them like you had when you were younger.

The box is wrapped badly, so at least you know Lando wrapped it himself. You hook your finger in an opening, tearing off the paper. At first, you think you're going crazy, your sleepiness jumbling the words on the box. Then, you're dreaming because in what world is Lando buying you a €4,600 camera? "Lando." Your voice is a bit harsher than you intended, and you see the worry fill his face. "You— Why would you buy me this? I barely take photos anymore." A Leica Q2: the camera you had recommended for Lando. Not for yourself. Because you knew he had the money and wanted to be artsy and dramatic. You didn't need this. You're fine with the camera you picked up at a second-hand shop after your digital camera gave out.

"I thought it was just ‘cause you had a...bad camera. I can return it. I just thought you'd like it. When you recommended it, you sounded like you were in love with it. And— You deserve it." Lando's eyes flicker to Max's, who have been more focused on him than you.

"I'll keep it, but don't spend this much money on me again." Your fingers gently touch the box; hesitantly because this camera just became the most expensive thing you own. Lando laughs weakly, awkward because Max hasn't taken his eyes off him.

You go out to eat later in the night, and when Max disappears to the bathroom you get a text.

max 💞 he likes you

100%

you shut up

max 💞 i looked up the camera it's fucking expensive

you i know (6:38 pm)

max do you think he likes me too? (6:44 pm)

You don't respond to his text, but when he comes back to the table, you squeeze his hand in silent reassurance. Lando watches from the other side of the table, looking guilty. Neither of you notice, too caught up in your thoughts.

July 2023 — 24 years old

2nd mother don't forget what we talked about!

lando 🙄 ik

"Are you listening?" Lando looks up from his phone, immediately shutting it off at Max's annoyed look. The apology is on the tip of his tongue, but Max rolls his eyes and keeps talking.

"I was thinking about that restaurant down the corner for Wednesday?" Lando's nose scrunches up, thinking of the sushi bar just a few buildings down. Apparently, Max can read his mind. "Not the sushi place, the one with all the...plants and stuff. I don't know the name, Y/n does I think."

"She's uh, coming with us then?" Max's eyes narrow, and Lando shrinks because he read this wrong. He thought it'd just be him and Max, and now he can't flirt with Max in front of his girlfriend, can he? There's also the uneasiness in his stomach when around you both at the same time that he doesn't want to feel. He feels left out; and wants to be a trio again, preferably with more physical affection, thanks. "Yeah, well. Neither of us have seen you in a while."

Lando stares at Max for a second, sees his anger in the tightness of his shoulders. He should spit it out already.

"I just— I don't want to be your third wheel anymore."

"Then get a girlfriend. I'm sure you've got enough girls in your dms to find one." Max sounds pissed, but that's not what Lando was trying to say. He groans, leaning against the counter in his kitchen, head in his hands.

"That's not what I meant!" He looks at Max as he says, "I want it to be us three again, like a trio or a fucking throuple. I want both of you and I have been excluded for years. I'm desperate at this point, Max."

"You're kidding." Max's voice is weak, staring at Lando like he's grown five heads. "No, I'm not."

"You should've said something sooner, you muppet." Max's hand gently touches the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Lando groans, gripping onto Max's t-shirt like he'll float away. He could stay in this moment forever, but there's still someone missing.

On Wednesday, you meet Max and Lando at the restaurant down the street from Lando's London apartment. You hadn't been able to attend Silverstone, again, stuck in another country for work. But you're here, and they're smiling brightly when they see you. You don't even get to say 'hi' before Lando pulls you into a hug, restricting but very warm and familiar. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Now, let go. I don't think I can breathe." Lando laughs, letting go of you so you can hug Max. They both look happier than they have in a while, and you can't help but question it. You don't get to voice your opinion before you're pulled into the restaurant.

The table is a slightly bigger single table, so there's enough space for all your plates. You sit with your back to the rest of the building, Max on your left and Lando on your right. Things feel like they've shifted; Lando seems more like his old self around you two — another question to ask.

Max is discussing something with Lando about Quadrant when you feel something tap your ankle underneath the table. You eye Lando, who's got an impish grin on his face.

You forget about it until his shoe bumps your ankle again, causing you to hit your knee against the table. Max stops talking, looking at both you and Lando. "Everything all right?"

"Yep, all good," You say before kicking Lando's calf underneath the table. He tries to hide his pain, but Max can tell, rolling his eyes. "You're both terrible. I swear I can't take you anywhere together."

"Well, that's gonna be a problem, isn't it?" Lando murmurs, and they've both got matching teasing grins.

"Alright, what's going on? All of a sudden you're like reading each other's minds. Tell me."

"Lando wants us to be a throuple. You, me, him." Max grins, and well, that explains a lot. You barely think before you speak. "You're kidding."

Lando rolls his eyes, "Is it so hard to believe that I could like both of you?" You look at Max, who shrugs, "Well— I love you guys, just accept it. Deal with it. There's no going back from here." Lando cuts Max off, grabbing both your hands and dragging them toward the center of the table.

"You're all mine now. Double WAGs...Wait, can Max be a WAG or is there something different for that?"

"Just stop talking. That's probably the least of our worries."

i'm thinking of making a lil addition of this from like fans/internet perspective if anyone's interested? cause i love writing stuff like that lol 😊 tell me your thoughts?

#russellbee; writing #russellbee; polyfics #russellbee; ln4 #russellbee; max f #lando norris x reader #max fewtrell x reader #nortrell x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris imagine #max fewtrell imagine

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elllisaaa · 1 year ago

Text

no nut november - lee minho (winner)

-> pairing : minho x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.1k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : dom!minho, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, use of 'good girl', 'kitten" and 'slut' (lovingly), overstimulation, spanking

+ the way i'm depicting minho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

To say Minho was confident about his chances was an understatement. Honestly, he knew he wouldn’t have much competition, except maybe from Seungmin. Still, he followed the loss of all his members like the best show he had ever seen, teasing them endlessly. Some surprises came with the bet, like Jeongin being one of the last still going after the third week of November. But overall, they were all so predictable that Minho could have guessed how it would end.

So when he received a message from Seungmin the 30th, saying that he was out, Minho knew that he had finally won. Just two days, and he could finally do all the things he was constantly thinking about for these past weeks to you. It hadn’t been an easy win, he must say. He almost lost just once, when he was making out with you on your couch during a movie night. But he managed - God knows how - to contain himself and stay strong.

Even though he didn’t lose control doesn’t mean that he didn’t get crazy over you for the smallest things. Like this one time when you were applying your gloss, getting ready for the date Minho had planned for the two of you. The act was innocent, no ulterior motives - of course, you were so sweet, didn’t do anything to try and make him lose - but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to other places. He couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips wrapped around his cock, couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips covered in his cum, as well as your perfect face. But these fantasies were all he would authorize himself, or else, he would have gone mad by now.

On your side, even if this challenge was frustrating too, it was also very amusing : seeing your spoiled boyfriend, who used to get what he wanted from you immediately, struggling to keep the last pieces of his sanity together was funny. Very funny. But you knew that you wouldn’t be laughing at the end of the month, most likely screaming and crying underneath Minho. But you knew that as soon as his primal needs and yours would be fulfilled, he was gonna be the sweetest boyfriend ever. And you couldn’t wait to hold him and fall asleep in his arms.

Therefore you weren’t surprised when you heard someone knocking at your door at midnight precisely. Minho hadn’t tell you anything but you were sure that as soon as he could, he would come and fuck you. That’s exactly why you decided to stay awake, watching your favorite film and patiently waiting for him to show up at your door. You couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips as you unlocked the door of your apartment to reveal the well-known silhouette of your boyfriend, leaning on the wall and wearing the same smile as you.

“- Have you missed me, kitten ?

- Well, come and find out.”

It didn’t take more than that for him to grab your waist, pushing your body against his already rock hard member, and to kiss you like he needed you to breathe, like you were his oxygen. And in a sense, it was true. This month without you, without feeling your skin under his hands, without feeling your touch. This month was really what he had pictured when he imagined hell.

“- You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow kitten…

- Good, because I want you to ruin me.”

You didn’t even notice that Minho closed the door until he pushed you against it, his tongue playing with yours like he wanted to win a fight he had already won anyway. He always won. And if he didn’t, it was only a moment of peace before he took the lead again. But honestly, you weren’t complaining right now : you had missed him too much to care, just like he had missed you. From the way he was groping every part of your body as he was undressing you from your shorts and hoodie, to the way he grunted when you ran your fingers through his hair. He clearly missed you as much as you did.

“- Minho… Please, don’t tease…”

No answer came to your ears as he helped you get out of your last piece of clothing and got down on his knees. That was enough of an answer for you. You were already breathing heavily, anticipating Minho’s next move. One of his fingers ran along your clit, making you shiver and whine for more. You needed him. You needed to feel him.

“- Already so wet for me… You missed me that much ?

- Yes, I missed you so much Min… Please, I need you….”

Your pleas were enough to convince him apparently because he immediately dived into your cunt, eating you out as if he was a man starved. A sigh left his lips when your taste engulfed him. Fuck. He missed your taste, missed your moans, missed your hands tugging at his roots, missed the way you were grinding against his face. He missed it all even if it was worth it.

But what was even more worth it was to relieve all this pent up frustration of the past month. Yes, it was torture most of the time, but Minho must admit that getting to touch you again after so long made him want to appreciate it even more, savoring every drop of your juices as if it was the most expensive champagne he ever got to taste, and taking his sweet time, listening to your moans like his favourite song.

You quickly felt close to the edge, wanting nothing more than cumming on his tongues. And Minho knew the tale-tell signs of your orgasm by heart : how your thighs began to shake, how you lost the rhythm of your hips, how you tugged harder on his strands of hair. And after all you did for him this month, he was more than happy to offer it to you, sucking one last time on your clit and coaxing your first orgasm out of you. By the time he got to his feets, you were almost back to reality, your chest still heaving to your hitched breathe.

“- You okay ?”

His fingers brushed softly against your cheek, a rough contrast with how messily he was eating your pussy just minutes ago, your arousal still coating his chin and lips.

“- Yeah… You’re just too good at this.

- Wanna see all the other things I’m good at ?”

And he did show you. He put you on your knees for him, pushing his rock hard cock until it hit the back of your throat, grinning when you gagged around him. He fucked your mouth roughly, releasing all his annoyance of the past month until you milked him dry. Then, he played with you again, his fingers plunged as deeply as possible into your cunt, hitting your sweet every time he curled them in the right angle, making you cum for the second time before he got you on all fours.

“- Gonna be a good girl and give me one more kitten ?”

You simply moaned by way of answer, but that didn’t seem to satisfy him as all you earned was a slap that made your ass jiggle, the sound echoing through your bedroom. You couldn’t see Minho’s face, but you could easily imagine the smirk playing on his lips.

“- Use your words.

- Yes, yes I can… Please, fuck me…

- That’s better.”

Both of you knew that the act he was putting on would drop as soon as he slid in between your wet walls. His moans were almost louder than yours, his iron grip on your hips that will certainly leave marks holding you in place. It’s been too long. Too long since he tasted you, kissed you, touched you, fucked you. And now, finally buried deep inside of you, he found himself unable to move. Every now and then, your pussy fluttered around his shaft and he groaned while tightening his grip on your waist.

“- I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last long.”

His voice was already airy, cut out by little high-pitched moans every time he thrusted back into you. And that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. It was a shame you couldn’t see his face right now, but the feeling of his heavy length pounding in and out of your cunt was already enough to bring you closer to your relief. You weren’t going to last long either, having missed being fucked by him too much.

“- Don’t care… S-So good Min…”

At this point, you were fucking yourself on his cock, and Minho stared down at your ass coliding with his abs everytime you moved backwards, moaning loudly everytime he hitted your sweet spot. It really was a sight to behold, and he didn’t miss a bit of it, his gaze lingering on your cunt swallowing him whole.

“- You’re so fucking nasty baby, bet you fantasized about that every day, didn’t you ?”

You were so out of it that you couldn’t form any coherent word, and even less sentences, only whimpers leaving your lips. Minho chuckled from behind you, picking up on his pace and holding your hips still while he rammed into you at a much quicker rhythm.

“- I am fucking you so good you can’t talk ? Is that it little slut ?”

You moaned in approuval, reliveing in the way his body now pressed into yours in the mattress, his lips brushing against your ear everytime he talked dirty to you. Minho knew how excited that got you. He wanted you to come before him, he wanted to feel the delicious ache of you getting impossibly tight around him before cumming too.

“- Answer, or you’re not getting what you want.

- Y-Yeah !

- Yeah to what ? That’s not a proper response baby.”

The sweet name paired with his hand slapping your ass was degrading, borderline humiliating, but it felt so fucking good, tightening the knot in your stomach and bringing you so much closer to your climax.

“- You’re fucking me s-so good I can’t… Ah… I can’t talk.

- Good girl. Now you can cum.”

As if you only needed his permission to do so, you reached your breaking point, screaming in pleasure and your pussy contracting so hard around him he came almost immediately, moaning your name loudly as he spilled his load deep inside of you. Both of your orgasms were so intense your visions became white, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. For a moment, the only sound breaking the silence of your bedroom was one of your heavy breathing, trying to regain some strength to move from the position you were currently in, which was becoming quite uncomfortable.

Minho rolled off from your body, laying on your side and bringing you close to him, not wanting to leave the warmth radiating from you. You immediately cuddled against him, settling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent with an audible sigh of relief.

“- That was undoubtedly the most powerful orgasm of my whole life.”

You giggled at his words, but you could only agree with him : it indeed was, and even if you weren’t certain that an entiere month of frustration was the better way of getting it, you were still glad for it.

“- Yeah, it was amazing but I’m gonna need a good shower.

- Does this mean round two ?”

You hit his toned chest playfully, rolling your eyes, but you didn’t miss his teasing smirk and he didn’t miss the way the corner of your lips were threatening to stretch out.

“- That means we’re not doing that ever again. I missed you too much, it wasn’t really fun.”

Feeling you snuggle even more against him, Minho tightens his hold on you, one of his hands coming to caress your shoulders, his gaze softening. He lowered his head enough to be able to kiss the crown of your hair, burying his face inside just after, the perfume of your shampoo feeling familiar enough to totally relax him.

“- I missed you a lot too. But it was worth it seeing them losing one after another.”

You hit him again, but it only made him chuckle softly. You knew your boyfriend was very competitive, and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing after all, you thought, when you felt his hands sliding from your shoulder to your ass, squeezing them roughly.

“- So… Round two ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

taglist - @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepsychich @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine @soobywiththebooty (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)

#skz x reader #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #lee know smut #minho smut #lee know x reader #minho x reader #lee know x reader smut #minho x reader smut #skz smut #nnn #no nut november #nnn skz

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illuminiscentboba · 7 months ago

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studying with a sleepy akaashi and him pulling moves on you (they're working)

it was another simple cold day, november settling in and bringing with it a chill that was quick to freeze your fingertips and tickle your nostrils. deadlines never seemed to stop piling but at least you had someone to motivate you, also a victim of the same craft.

there he was already settled into the booth, his muscular arms folded, his shoulder sagging as his head bobbed, his glasses settled low on his nose.

you were a little too quick to snap a photo, hurrying in to surprise him.

"keiji? hey wake up." you lightly shook his shoulders. he squinted at you, quick to shift upright and readjust himself, a long yawn erupting his mouth, his stretching flexing the shirt around his chest.

"did you get any sleep last night?" he paused, another yawn escaping before he could get out a word. "No, my roomates were up late playing this new game that came out. I couldn't sleep with all the yelling."

You hovered around in concern. "Should we study later so you can take a nap or next time?"

"Nono, this is the best time for us because we're both free today. We should try to power through" he mustered a sleepy smile and you settled in across from him. It was true, with how much classes, random labs and tutorials this was unfortunately the best day for you guys to coordinate.

Sleepy akaashi was charming to say the least. The errors he made where he normally would be perfect followed by a perplexed "hmm...that isn't quite right?" or disappointed, "hm? this one is wrong too? i'm sorry (name)."

seeing him fight the fatigue, taking small sips of his coffee, a distressed palm raking through his hair. "Let me sit beside you so I can show you the right way." "would you please?" the apologetic pull of his lips downward. what a cutie.

and so you worked through the problems, filling in each others blanks, hearing your voice beside him helped him reorient himself.

with his chin settled into his palm he watched as you explained the concept, gaining more confidence in how much you thought you knew about it. before he knew it he was reachign out, catching wisps that were going to get into your eye behind your ear. you pause, staring incredulously. "you were saying?" his tone, a little too smug for your liking.

"nothing." you say indignantly, your eyes following the hands still perched around the area of your face, leafing through the hair by your ears. "what are you doing."

he brings his face closer, pretending to inspect the side of your face, his face dangerously your own. "making sure I do a good job." he whispers into your ear.

something isn't right about him. the huskiness of his voice. the teasing grin, how'd he go from adorable to something that would eat you up. was it because he was tired that he was less careful and nervous than usual?

in fact... something hasn't been quite right for a while now. the prolonged staring he'd do when you guys were studying, the reaching across from you, and sitting very close to you. all the details he remembered. he always responds why wouldn't he but never brings up that he does it to anyone else. you thought back to the previous conversations and how akaashi tried to seem not as interested as he actually was when you guys would have group discussions about love.

your more than familiar now with his shy smile, the fidgeting with his fingers, and unyielding stare whenever he wanted to know or talk about something dear to his heart in a way everyone would not misunderstand.

maybe the teasing from your friends weren't for nothing. maybe he was trying to tell you this whole time.

"oh right, I have something to show you." he turns away, reaching into his bag and your filled with anticipation he slips something into his hands.

"your hand please." he extends his palm to which you nervously press against his. he intertines his fingers through yours, the glow of his smile and face radiating warmth as he pulls something from his wrist onto yours.

you gasp. you had lost your staple bracelet that matched your rings and earrings a week ago and you didn't realize how atattched you were to it until you trashed your room searching for it.

"oh my god, keiji!!! you remembered!! oh my god stop, this is so sweet thank you!" he seems quite proud of himself as you continued to pour with thank yous, and your the best. he assures you as always that he'll always remember the words of those dear to him.

he squeezes your hand in his and you squeeze back so excited to have it back in your collection. "that was super neat, the way you got it from your wrist to mine. that was a little too smooth to not be practiced." did he have another girl or guy you didn't know about?

"you think so?" he raises a brow. "my roomate was bragging about it the other day so i thought I'd give it a go?" the confidence and teasing tone to his voice was so attractive.

"and you thought of me?" "I don't know anyone better." his other hand grazes your face again, sweeping away what you know is no more than a singular strand of hair. "you couldv'e just handed me it."

"well if I'm being fully honest..." he tilts his head, in the silly way he's seen his teamates do when begging him to do something for them. "I also really wanted to hold your hand." he smiled shyly and then he did that thing he always did, where he stared at you really hard and it finally clicked in your mind. he was checking your reaction to see if you were okay with the touch.

for permission.

oh my god, he was enforcing the boundaries you didn't set because he wanted to make sure you were okay with his approaches. all the moments between you guys that made your heart race were intentional.

you place the hand lingering by your face to cup your cheek as you lean in. theres no faster way for you to get out all of your emotions and thoughts then a kiss. his chair tilts back and his hands wrap around your waist to steady you guys. its a quick smooch, given you guys are in a public setting but more than enough.

"I think we're due another discussion about our feelings...somewhere quiet?" "yeah." you mumble, twin grins on your faces as you pack up your stuff, almost rushing out of the cafe having paid your bill earlier.

if there was anyone safe enough for you to entrust your heart to it would always be him.

(this is part of a longer fic, also posted today)

#akaashi imagines #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #lumi writes ✨#haikyuu #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x you #haikyuu fluff #hq akaashi

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catcze · 2 years ago

Note

OKAY BUT how about matching jewellery with Wriothesley?? You could both wear a necklace or a choker to match his vibe or maybe earrings? (The fact he's wearing some is sending me 😩 His style is really good tbh, def would let him choose my clothes) And if they're embedded with each other's initials? Even better, let the world know you belong to him, the same way he belongs to you (was inspired by your other collar drabble don't mind me 🥺👌)

AAAAA that is SO cute wtf ?!?! And so true, his style is honestly immaculate !! I got inspiredddd and wrote this (even tho it's a little more 'secret relationship for now, but wearing little tokens of each other until we make it public' kind of thing tee hee)

warning for vv slight leaks (Wriothesley's birthdate) and a slightly ooc Wrio !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

"Your grace?"

"Yes, Sigewinne?" Wriothesley hums, not looking up from his morning paper. He holds a teacup in his other hand, the scent of freshly brewed English Breakfast filling the room.

Sigewinne is staring hard at him, head tilted as she examines the change in the Duke's wardrobe. "I can't seem to place my finger on it but your new necklace looks rather—"

Wriothesley promptly chokes on his drink, loud coughing breaking the quiet of his office as he thumps his chest, sputtering and frantically moving his paper out of the range of fire of his choking.

"—familiar."

Sigewinne hands him a handkerchief, which he takes with a wheezed word of thanks. She's squinting at him in suspicion, antennae twitching as she watches the duke squirm.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Wriothesley coughs one last time into the handkerchief, clearing his throat in an attempt to get rid of the roughness in his voice. It doesn't work. "Perhaps you're mistaken, Sigewinne. Are you certain that you haven't just seen someone around the fortress using something similar? Or maybe you saw it in fashion on the surface."

Sigewinne is sure she hasn't. She just hums in thought, placing her hands on her hips as she continues to evaluate the necklace, while Wriothesley pointedly does not meet her gaze.

It's a simple thing, really. A silver circle on a thin silver chain, and from this distance Sigewinne can barely make out what looks like two letters and a date carved on it. It's this simplicity, actually, that makes it stand out amidst the Duke's otherwise chunky and bold accessories.

Sigewinne keeps staring, trying to remember just where oh where had she seen something like that before, and why does it nag her so much that she can't recall. Wriothesley doesn't offer up any information, however, having chosen to pour himself another cup of tea and resuming reading his paper.

Eventually, the nurse relents and turns to head down the staircase to leave his office with a word of farewell thrown over her shoulder, still bothered by the mystery that she just can't solve, but knowing what the Duke is like when he clams up.

"Oh! Hi, Sigewinne!" You greet, almost running into her as she descends, while you yourself are on your way up. You reach out a hand to steady her lest she roll down the rest of the way. "Leaving already? Everything alright?"

"Everything is fine," she says kindly, patting your arm in thanks as she looks up to your face. "Some patients to check on, but otherwise nothing particularly noteworthy. His Grace just refuses to answer any of my questions, however..."

But then her eyes catch on something shiny on your neck. Something shiny, and looking awfully like the object of her interest just a few short minutes ago. She glances at it, and as close as she is, she can make out what is carved on the pendant around your neck: A simple W and the date November 23 written underneath it.

She pauses mid-sentence, turning to glance over her shoulder.

Wriothesley is still reading his paper, but from here even she can see how he's trying to subtly glance over it in your direction. His fingers clench the sheets in anticipation and how his boot has started to tap on the floor despite his show of nonchalance. She looks at the pot of tea he had put out earlier, notices just how much tea there still seems to be in it, and the extra teacup that she had asked about earlier when she had first come in.

Just in case a guest stops by, he had told her, and nothing after that. Suddenly, she has a pretty good guess of what is written on his grace's necklace.

"Nevermind," she corrects, trying not to smile too widely. "But I certainly have to be going. Enjoy your... meeting with his grace. I'll see you later!"

You blink at her abrupt departure. "Oh? Okay. Uh... Bye, Sigewinne. See you soon!"

She nods, hurriedly excusing herself in an attempt to give you two some privacy, finally letting her happy little grin show once she was no longer in sight. She shuts the doors behind her and takes a moment, then practically skips her way back to the infirmary, her steps light and joyful.

I'm glad. They deserve to be happy together.

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact

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mariako-750 · 5 months ago

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LISTEN TO ME RAMBLE ABOUT AVA XI NOW THAT IT DROPPED!!

SPOILERS FOR AVA 11↓↓

So. Suddenly my list is different. Now my ranking of which hollowhead suffered the most changed to: TCO🥇→Victim🥈→TSC🥉→TDL🏅.

————————————————————————

Coming back here to edit and say that it is now

Victim🥇→TCO🥈→TSC🥉→TDL🏅

Because I'd rather have powers and be a slave for four years than be killed and revived and killed and revived again and again for months.

————————————————————————

Also, Mitsi. I am sorry for everything I've said. Please come back. You are the opposite of Gold. You are actual gold. Please babygirl(/gn) come back...

You mean to tell me that by naming the stickfigure Victim every time, Alan brought Victim back to life each time and tortured him until creating TCO in November. My baby was being tortured, abused, for *five months.

————————————————————————

Yeah, so, looked at the dates again, it really was actually ten months.

Alan you sadistic teenager- I would do the same, gonna be honest.

————————————————————————

I still don't like Vic x Mitsi because after watching Hunter Street and thinking beyond "omfg they are so cute" I can't think them of anything else besides siblings. Mitsi is the Anika to Victim's Sal(honestly any of the siblings with Nika works). Mitsi is the extroverted, joyful and energetic younger sister to Victim's introverted, traumatized and anxious older brother.(To me.)

The village and Mitsi and Vic make me think of the family from Stuck In The Middle. Just a bit.

————————————————————————

(I went back as I was writing this and saw

At 13:54. I am sad now. I am sad, you can't stop me, I will jump off-)

————————————————————————

ALSO WE CAN'T FORGET THIS.

AT 16:06-16:12(I THINK)

HOLY SHIT PURPLE AND THEIR PARENTS!?!? SO WE WERE WRONG! VICTIM DIDN'T BUILD A CHICKEN COOP, THERE WAS NO INTERACTION BETWEEN THE MERCENARIES, WE GOT MORE PURPLE BACKSTORY!? THAT WAS THE ONE I WAS SO SURE ABOUT NOT BEING TRUE!!!

Vic and Agent...... Vic checking to see if Agent is hurt....

Agent has been here since Mitsi was around.... He was one of their first employees.... So close that he cried when Mitsi died....

And the torture scene in The Box wasn't for nothing... It wasn't just to force answers out of TCO... It was to get revenge... Oh god.... Oh Vic baby.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY??? I??? I'M SPEECHLESS???

#ava #animator vs animation #avm #animation vs minecraft #because purp is here #alan becker #ava victim #ava agent #ava mitsi #ava 11

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jovial-thunder · 10 months ago

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Downtimes, module editor, water temple

Happy summer! There's smoke in Portland but it's not too bad. Bless firefighters. Work on Lancer Tactics continues apace.

This month has been mostly focused on the largest heretofore-untouched section of the game: downtimes and the module editor for designing the sequences between combats. We're not planning on doing anything particularly innovative or new in its design — if you've played Banner Saga, Fire Emblem (gameboy versions), or Rogue Squadron you'll recognize what's going on here.

Repair, level up, have visual-novel-style conversations with companions, do some light choose-your-own-adventuring, and pick & launch the next combat. All pretty standard downtime fare — games have pretty thoroughly explored these patterns as vehicles for narrative at this point.

The unique thing that Lancer Tactics is offering on this front is an editor to make your own entire campaigns. Classic games like Warcraft or Age of Empires had incredible scenario editors, but making anything more than a one-mission map was solely the domain of modders. Over the last few weeks, we've gotten a full basically-visual-novel-editor working ingame where you can orchestrate NPC story arcs, clocks ticking, branching paths, and triggered events for all the stuff that happens between combats.

All of the campaigns we ship with the game are going to be made with these same editors, which'll force us to really make sure that they're solid tools. I think it'd be very funny to someday see someone like completely ignore all the mech stuff and just make a visual novel in this engine.

There's no new preview game build this month because adding this big section of the game means too many things are under construction. I'm happy with how fast we've been able to get this going, but making ingame editors is a lot of unglamorous UI piping and data refactoring work. Fingers crossed that it'll come together enough that we'll be able to get the first version of this editor in your hands in time for the next update

Other Changelogs

Carpenter has started re-making the tutorial level from the demo in this new engine, which is pushing us to add a bunch of stuff to the combat editor. I added triggers for playing arbitrary effects on the map, moving the camera, storing arbitrary data to the battle/module states, enabling/disabling/triggering other triggers, AND/OR conditions, and putting execution limits on triggers.

Triggers can highlight UI or actions (so it can be like "use the boost to get through!" and the boost button becomes all shiny)

New "camera start" zone type

Added a "hotspot" zone type that has a little floating title, and plastered the names of other zones on the map (visual style stolen from some Foundry VTT modules)

Added water, whose level can be set via the editor or triggers.

Added unmounted pilots who can mount up into Shut Down mechs. We continue to plan to not have pilot combat be a part of the core game, but it'll be useful for scenario or scripted sequences.

Added activation pips and template icons to the mini healthbar on units.

A bunch more portrait editor assets from Martina, including facial hair. Here's a check Carpenter did where he tried to recreate some official Lancer art ingame. ✨

Schedule update

Taking a look at our original date for the "bones" of the game ("finishing the battle engine, basic character creation, 2 mechs per manufacturer, and an a 'instant action' mode"), we estimated being able to get it done by the end of November. The emotional milestone for me on this front is getting the game to a complete enough state that I feel OK about swapping it in on the itch.io page.

I've been saying that the 3D cataclysm has pushed us back back about 3 months, and I think that's still holding true. Carpenter and I haven't officially made the call yet, but I think it's likely we'll need that time to port more mech content; here's a graph they made that shows about where we're sitting on the PC and NPC mechs for the "bones" target in terms of mechanics and action icon/sprite.

(This data is pulled from a big table they made that includes ALL talents/gear/traits where we've been marking things off as we've implemented them. Very handy for tracking where we are.)

That's all for now. Tata!

#lancer tactics #lancer rpg #indie game dev #made with godot #godot 4 #tactics rpg #mecha

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echo-rambles · 2 years ago

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somewhere among the pines

words: 4,807 tags: witch!reader, werewolf!chan, ghost!seungmin and roommate!seungmin. fluff. mentions of an injury. vague allusions to soulmatism, if you squint and believe real hard. mentions of magic. notes: I finished it in time! I feel like there are bits where you can tell I rushed, but overall I'm very happy with it. this is also the longest reader insert I've ever written, so I hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween! [ao3 link]

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The veil between worlds is thin this time of year. You know this to be true; a fact of your world that you learned when you were very young.

Every October, the veil begins to thin. Odd things happen all year around, especially for someone like you, but the month of October brings with it a rise of the unexplainable. Or, perhaps unexplainable isn’t the correct word, since you’re very good at explaining the weird and unknown.

This is a very long explanation for the fact that your roommate and possibly the best friend you’ve ever had, is incredibly corporeal in the days leading up to All Hallow’s Eve. What’s it say about you that you consider a ghost to be your best friend? That’s honestly a can of worms you don’t really want to open right now.

Normally, your very dead and very spectral friend spends most of the calendar year as a phantom entity in your home. He can speak to you and possibly move small objects around if he concentrates. But for the most part he’s a ghost.

October is his favorite time of year. Yours too, for completely different reasons, but you can’t deny that you also find great joy in watching Seungmin move everything he can get his hands on simply because he can.

It also means the pranks increase tenfold, because now he’s tangible and can do so many more things. He has to get it all in before November rolls back around, severing the strong connection to the worlds beyond.

“I think your neighbor is weird.” Seungmin says, from his spot by your kitchen window.

He’s wearing a horrendously large sweater that he must have found at the back of your closet, and it almost swallows him whole. Completely covering the shorts he constantly wears.

He’s also holding your favorite mug. It’s empty, but he’s still clutching it to his chest as if he’s ready at any moment to sip at his morning coffee. You decide to let him have this, knowing that he only truly gets to experience big sweaters and mugs in his hands once a year.

“Because you’re so normal.”

“I am.” He defends, immediately, glaring at you. “I was. ”

“You were the most normal boy in the orphanage?”

“It was a university for gifted students.”

Teasing him about his life before has become normal between the two of you. After that first year, after you both learned how to coexist in the same space without upended chairs or banishing spells, he finally told you his story. About his university that burned down decades ago with him inside of it. How the land that your house now occupies was once part of the sprawling campus.

It’s another reason you let him raid your closet every October. It has to be a certain type of hell to spend the rest of your unlife looking like you’re always ready to attend afternoon lectures in plaid shorts and suspenders and shoes with little buckles on them.

Ignoring his glaring attention, you turn back to the pot you have on the stove. It’s starting to boil aggressively, so you make sure to jam in some cinnamon sticks before wrestling the cover onto it.

“Can you stop spying on my neighbor? He has nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin glides over to peer over your shoulder. “Whatever, but he is weird. Did you burn dinner?”

“It’s meant to be a spell and no, it’s not burnt. Sorry, are you the professional in the kitchen?”

“Are you?”

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

Maybe Seungmin was right. Maybe your neighbor is weird.

You watch, from the same kitchen window Seungmin was staring out of a few days ago, as your neighbor comes out of the woods surrounding your properties shirtless and running. It’s a routine of his that you’ve noticed. In a completely normal way, mind you.

It's not like you're an obsessive stalker or anything. You just happen to notice things. Especially things that follow a pattern.

He’s the type of guy that goes running at night, and he always takes the path that cuts through the woods that creeps at the edge of your shared backyards.

Maybe jogging at night isn’t a completely odd thing, but he’s also shirtless, and it’s the tail end of October. The nights are getting colder, with winter nipping at the heels of autumn. That can’t be normal.

It’s also a routine that you only began clocking at the beginning of the month. He’s lived in the house next door since the spring, and you’ve noticed him jogging through the neighborhood every now and then. He seemed like the athletic type, so you didn’t think much of it.

But the nightly jogs through the forest only really became a thing during the first week of the month. At first it didn't seem like anything too different. Seungmin, who never actually sleeps, commented on it but you waved him off. He loved to gossip and get into people’s business. He was possibly the nosiest ghost you ever met.

But as the nights went by, you became more aware of it.

You’d like nothing more than to chalk it up to Seungmin as the one being weird, but if you squint you swear there really is something peculiar about him. It’s in the way the air moves around him, you think. It feels impossible to put into words, but there’s something about it that’s just a little unexplainable.

Once you notice, it's almost impossible to stop noticing it. Which is incredibly frustrating.

Your neighbor approaches his back stairs, and slows to a stop. You watch as he lets out a long breath and stretches his back. As he turns, he catches sight of you in the window. It’s too late to try and move away, pretending you weren’t absolutely staring, so when he offers you a wave, you have to return it.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next night you curl up on the single patio chair you have on your back porch. It’s barely a porch, really. There’s enough room for a chair and a small table and not much else.

You wait, quietly, as the stars twinkle above the tree tops and the night becomes as quiet as it can in a neighborhood that’s not urban enough for constant traffic and city noises, but also not rural enough for the silence that only comes with living far enough away from people. It’s the odd sort of in between world. Ambient sounds of a car passing a handful of streets away. Someone’s dog is barking in the distance. You hear a pair of voices from the front of your house, as they walk past on the sidewalk, their voices fade away the farther they get.

The moon shines brightly from its spot in the sky. It’s not a full moon just yet, you can tell by the subtle shape of it and the calendar on your phone. It’ll reach its zenith in a few days, just shy of Halloween.

Finally, your neighbor comes out from the sparse woods. Shirtless as always. You try, and fail, not to stare.

(“He’s kind of hot.” Seungmin had said, that first night he had called him weird, after returning to the window. “Almost upsettingly so.”)

You were trying to be a polite and respectful neighbor and not oggle him. But Seungmin was so entirely correct. It really is upsetting how good looking he is.

“Hey.” You greet, grabbing his attention as you call out. You move forward, resting your arms against the railing and leaning just enough over the side so you can see him better.

“Oh, hi.” He answers, blinking at you before waving. When he smiles he has a dimple. You can see it in the porch light.

“My roommate thinks you’re weird.” Might as well get to the point, instead of trying to find an excuse to speak to him.

That makes him laugh. Loud and full and it warms you up from the inside out.

“I’m sorry?”

“No need to apologize for him projecting.”

“Uh- ok. Noted. Do you share your roommate’s opinion or…?” His voice dips, like he’s trying to make it sound like a joke but he’s also extremely curious.

You can taste it on the wind. It’s that same sort of something about him that you noticed before, but now it’s more pronounced. Now that there isn’t a window or a driveway between you. He’s drifted closer to your porch, titling his head a bit, and you, tipping your gaze down.

It tastes a little like ozone and petrichor. Like the aftershocks of a storm deep in the forest. Woodsy and warm and sharp. It gets stuck at the back of your mouth, up into your nose. The sort of taste that has a smell and vice versa.

He tastes like magic.

“I haven’t really decided yet.” You tell him, keeping all of your thoughts locked tightly away. You wait a beat, watching his smile settle, before you introduce yourself.

“You can call me Chan. It’s nice to meet you.”

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

A few days before All Hallow’s Eve, you’re awoken by a hand on your shoulder. The feeling is so foreign you’re immediately awake, sitting up with your heart in your throat, blinking away the dizziness of sleep.

Seungmin is leaning over your bed, his mouth set into a perpetual frown. Wearing a terry cloth robe over his school uniform and a pair of slippers in the shape of puppies that you specially bought for him.

“There’s a dog at your door.”

“What?” You're not awake enough to parse that sentence.

He rolls his eyes. “There is a dog, and it’s on the back porch.”

“...what?”

“I’m not repeating myself again. Do something about it, because it’s kind of creeping me out.”

“Creeping you out?" You question, because it feels like an incredibly ironic thing for Seungmin to be saying. "Aren’t you meant to be the creepy thing?”

“It’s my night off.” He says, before walking away. Leaving you blinking and confused.

There’s a dog? At your door?

What the fuck does he mean by that? You check the time as you're crawling out of bed and into a pair of house slippers. What is a dog doing on your porch at three in the morning?

The house is dark and quiet as you shuffle down the stairs and through both the living room and kitchen. The only sound is the soft, almost haunting noise of Seungmin singing to himself somewhere else in the house.

As you get closer to the back of your house, you can just barely make out a dark shape outside of the window. The moonlight seems to cast it in silhouette, and the curtains drawn over the window blur the outline.

Creeping closer, you quietly try to peek behind the curtain and out onto the porch. Holding your breath, you chance a look. Any other time of year, you might have taken your roommates word for it that there was just some dog outside. But you can never be too careful about the things lurking in the dark so close to the 31st.

At first you can't really make out what it is. It's just a large shape. Made out of shadow as it shifts around and almost knocks over your chair. Your heart crawls its way back up into your throat at the sheer size of it.

It's as you're trying to figure out what the fuck you're meant to do in situations like this, and also wondering why your protection wards don't seem to work against this thing, when it moves and catches the light.

You're still keyed up, because you still can't find an explanation, but there's a sliver of relief at recognizing what the shape is.

Sitting there, sniffing at the little potted plants you have balanced on the porch railing, is a massive animal. Seungmin called it a dog but it looks so much bigger.

It has the proportions of a wolf, maybe. You've seen wolves before, on television and that one time you went to a wolf sanctuary up north. You have a rough estimate of what they're meant to look like. Except this wolf looks as if someone clicked and dragged at the edges and enlarged it.

When it moves to turn, trying to be oh so careful of the small space it's found itself in, you notice the way it flinches and limps. It’s favoring one of its front paws.

Oh. It's injured. Ok, so you have a gigantic injured wolf camped out on your back porch. Sure. Why not? Somehow you're convinced you've had weirder things happen to you. Seungmin is somehow your best friend and dead, that has to be the weirdest thing in your life, right?

Speaking of your dead roommate, you’re sure that if he were here right now, hovering over your shoulder and watching you pull out the first aid kit from under the sink, he'd say you have a bleeding heart. Or that you’re being idiotic by wanting to help the monster at your door. What else are you meant to do? Shoo it away? It’s injured!

Gently opening the back door, you try to seem like as little of a threat as possible. You don't need this thing lunging and attacking the moment it sees you. You’re convinced that it could swallow you in one bite if it really wanted it.

The moment the back door creaks open, its ears perk up and it’s moving to face you. Curious but cautious.

“Hi, uh- please don’t eat me?” You inch further out, keeping the door open in case you have to make a swift exit. The wolf moves out of your way, making room on the already cramped porch. It tips its head and flattens its ears. It doesn’t seem aggressive.

If anything it looks like it’s in pain.

Now that you’re out here, and you have a better view, you catch sight of blood on the boards of your porch. Smeared and shiny in the porch light. “Can I… help? If I help you, that means you can’t eat me. Ok?”

The wolf whines, settling down in whatever empty space it can find and nosing at its front leg.

This feels almost too surreal. You know nothing about who or what this wolf is, or why it decided to seek you out, but yet you’re crouching down and snapping open the first aid box.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you. I’m just going to- sorry, I need to see where you’re hurt.” You start to talk to it, not even knowing if it can understand you. You want to reassure it, in any way you can manage. As you pull its, frankly huge paw into your lap, you remember to introduce yourself. It always pays to be polite.

You try to hold in your gasp once you get a good look at where it’s injured. The entire foreleg is bleeding, the skin mangled.

“Did you step in a bear trap? Holy shit. ” You breathe, pressing gauze to the open wounds, trying your best to staunch the blood.

The next few minutes go by in near silence, as some part of your brain has completely shut off to the entire weirdness of this situation, and instead you focus solely on fixing whatever this is as best as you can. It’s far from a professional job, but the bleeding has stopped so you take that as a win.

The entire time, you can feel the wolf staring at you. If anything, it just adds to the weird factor. It doesn’t act like a normal wolf. Sure, it flinches when you press too hard on its wounds or when you sterilize them, but it doesn’t growl or snap or pull away. It just closes its eyes tight and huffs through its nose.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, wrapping its leg and paw up in a bandage. “It’s almost over, I promise.” The wolf whines again, quiet and soft and you’re struck with the urge to press a kiss to its head.

When you’re done, and you tuck the bandage into itself, the wolf finally moves. It surges forward, and you flinch, bracing yourself for the worst. A wet nose presses itself to your cheek, and then you feel it bump its head into your own. The force of it almost knocks you over.

“Oh, uh- you’re welcome.”

As quickly as it had sat and offered you its paw, it’s getting up and stepping over you. Apparently it got what it wanted out of this exchange.

It’s only later, after the wolf has limped its way into the woods, that you find yourself looking up at the night sky. It’s the first night of the full moon. A giant wolf that didn’t act much like a wolf showed up on the very first night of the full moon. There’s something about that statement that sticks into the folds of your brain, but you’re honestly too tired and covered in blood to make any real sense of it.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next afternoon, you see Chan getting out of his car, wearing a big grey hoodie and a beanie. Seeing him all bundled up is almost as good as seeing him run around shirtless. He somehow manages to pull off both looks flawlessly.

You’re still tired from all of the sleep you didn’t get last night, but you’ve decided that sitting out on your front steps to get some much needed sunlight would do you well.

You wave when he catches sight of you, offering a small smile as a hello. When he waves back you notice that his hand is bandaged, and the white cloth disappears into the cuff of his hoodie.

Interesting.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

“It's at the back door again.” Seungmin says, practically hanging over you. His hair is damp and a shocking shade of orange, and you are not awake enough to wonder how he managed to do that.

“You have to stop waking me up like this.” You grumble, pushing him out of your face.

“Your wolf is whining at the back door."

“He’s not my wolf.”

You have this sneaking suspicion, you’ve been fostering it all day, that says he’s not really anyone’s wolf but his own. For a multitude of reasons.

“Well, this is the second night in a row and it’s getting kind of pathetic. I’m starting to feel bad for it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll deal with him.” You pull a sweater on and shove your feet into slippers.

“Wait- he? Him? The wolf told you its pronouns?” Seungmin follows you down through the hall and down the stairs.

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you.” You stop in the living room, peeking just enough into the kitchen to notice the large shape outside of the window by the back door. “I’m pretty sure our neighbor is a werewolf.”

“I knew he was weird!”

Moving closer to the back door, you’re a bit more resolved in your conclusion after saying it out loud. It feels like the most obvious answer. The only thing you’re still confused about is why did a werewolf seek you out when it was hurt? A werewolf who you’ve barely spoken to and only introduced yourself to earlier in the week?

You open the door, and there he is. Laying with the top half of his body on the porch and the rest of him sitting on the grass. His ears perk up when he sees you in the doorway.

“Hi Chan. How’s your arm feeling?” You ask, with a tilt of your head and a genuine smile. Seungmin laughs from just behind your shoulder, giddy and loving every minute.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

In the morning, there's a knock at your front door, and when you answer it, Chan is standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets and the brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes.

He looks a little awkward and misplaced. You were expecting him to show up sooner or later. Especially after you called him by name last night.

“Hey. Long time no see.” You tease, smiling at him.

“Hi. I uh-” He cuts himself off with an embarrassed sort of laugh. “Right. Actually, that's kind of what I came to talk about.”

“About the werewolf thing?”

“Wow." He breathes, still amused and trying to get a handle on his laughter "Yeah, actually.” With his head tipped away from you, he resembles the wolf quite a bit. You can almost imagine him with his ears flattened and his big liquid eyes refusing to look at you.

“Sure. Come in.”

You direct him to the living room, and you know what it must look like to someone who's never seen it before. Different patterns and trinkets scattered around, candles on every surface. Seungmin calls it eclectic. But he says it with a twist to his voice so you can never tell if it's an insult or a compliment.

After you're both seated on one of the couches, your knees dangerously close to touching, you prop your head on your fist and wait for him to speak first.

This is his problem more than it is yours, plus he's the one that came to talk.

“You don’t look like a werewolf.” Seungmin says, appearing from virtually nowhere. His hair is still orange, and it looks a lot better in the daylight. You'll have to tell him you like it, once you're not so annoyed with him of course.

"Oh, uh-"

“And you don't look like a dead boy. Leave him alone.” You snap at him. With love.

Seungmin pouts and rolls his eyes, but he easily slips from the room.

“Sorry about him. He’s nosy.”

Chan shrugs, hands fidgeting on his thighs. “It’s alright. I don’t really mind. Besides, I did come here to talk to you about the 'werewolf thing,' so it’s fine if he’s curious about it.” He actually adds finger quotes as he says it, which is kind of stupidly endearing.

"I'm the one who's curious. Like I said, he's just nosy."

“Right, well. I want to apologize, firstly, for bothering you the other night. Or well, for the wolf bothering you.”

You tilt your head in curiosity. "Aren’t you and the wolf the same person?”

“It’s- complicated." Chan presses his lips together, before sighing and settling further into the cushions. "We are but… sometimes, especially during a full moon, the wolf can have a mind of his own. We’re not separate entities but- sometimes, when he’s feeling strong, I don’t get a say over our decisions.”

“Like stepping in a bear trap?”

“Or coming to you for help. Really, I am sorry.”

“You were bleeding, Chan. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Somehow, your hand has made its way to his knee. You press your fingertips into his jeans. He shifts closer, and his eyes are so dark and deep.

"Besides. I kind of like the wolf."

"What about me?"

"I thought you weren't separate entities?"

His dimple appears when he smiles, and you have to stop yourself from leaning close and pressing your thumb into it.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

It's the last night of the full moon, with Halloween just around the corner, and you're stepping out onto the porch before Seungmin can wake you.

You have a feeling, rooted deep underneath all of your organs, that you’re going to see Chan again tonight. He mentioned that the full moon has a strong effect on him, and when he’s a wolf he seems drawn to you. So you might as well meet him in the middle.

Sitting out in your little chair, you wait. The night has turned chilly and the stars glitter brightly in the sky. Finally, movement at the tree line catches your attention. A dark shape that stalks back and forth, just out of sight.

You don’t really have an explanation for all of this, for why a werewolf is seeking out your attention, but you can’t say that you’re complaining all that much. It’s nice to feel trusted by something five times your size and with teeth as thick as your fingers.

Getting up and stepping from the porch, you move closer to the woods. Standing barefoot in the sparse grass of your backyard and tempting the shape to come closer. The moon is full and bright and the breeze bites at your bare ankles. The shape stares out at you, eyes glinting between two tree trunks.

“C’mere.” You call, barely raising your voice.

The shape moves, bridging the distance between you and the trees in the blink of an eye, and suddenly you have a mass of muscle and fur bearing down on you.

"Hey, you big puppy." The words are all tangled up with a laugh, as you try to push him away and actually get a good look at him. “Y’know, you’re very affectionate for someone who hasn’t known me all that long.”

Wolf Chan doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t, but he does huff and shift closer. He’s tall enough that you can look him in the eye without having to bend at all. You reach forward and press your palms to his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs along the soft fur of his face. He closes his eyes at the touch, huffing through his nose again.

He’s soft and warm, fur almost black in the moonlight. You don’t know why this has happened to the two of you, but it feels right. Like you’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time and didn’t even realize it until now.

Suddenly he’s moving forward and pressing his nose into your cheek, getting as close as he can. Leaning his weight into you as his muzzle moves down and into the curve of your neck. You get a face full of his fur, which has you laughing again.

You wrap your arms around his neck. Or as much of his neck as you can, returning the favor by nuzzling into his body and sighing in contentment.

"We should really try this cuddling thing when you're human."

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The day before All Hallow’s Eve you have an armful of Chan, as you both lay on the big couch in your living room. You should probably be more wary of how close you two have gotten, and how quickly. But you can’t help but remember that feeling the other night, standing among the treeline and breathing in the wolf’s scent. Petrichor and pine trees. There’s just something right about it that you can’t find the words for.

The morning after the full moon, Chan had come to your door and asked if the offer for some human cuddles was still available. You told him to take you to dinner first and then you’d decide.

Which led you both to right now, days later, and almost stupidly inseparable. He hasn’t unwillingly shifted into a wolf since the full moon, so you’ve been able to spend the nights with a very human Chan. Getting to know him and talk to him. Touch your fingers to his skin. Learn his little habits and quirks.

You smooth a hand over his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he cuddles closer. He hums and moves around until he’s pressing his face into the slope of your neck. It’s warm and familiar and you squeeze him a little bit tighter. "The wolf really likes you."

"Oh. He does?"

Chan nods and hums again, happily. You can feel it vibrate through your skin and into your bones. "I do, yeah."

“Well that’s good, because I really like you too.”

You both settle back into the quiet, listening to the ambient noises of the house. The fridge hums lowly from the kitchen. Seungmin is somewhere singing to himself again, you can hear it carry through the walls. Petting at the nape of Chan’s neck, you tip your chin and kiss the crown of his head. You could probably stay like this all day.

He smells like petrichor and pine. Sharp and woodsy, like the forest and magic.

"Hey, if I dress up as Red Riding Hood, would you dress up as the Big Bad Wolf?" You ask, cutting through the comfortable silence.

"How long have you been waiting to ask me that?"

"Since I saw you getting out of your car with your arm all bandaged up."

Chan laughs, big and loud, and he’s propping himself up so he can look down at you, eyes squinting and dimple appearing. He doesn’t say anything, just sort of shakes his head and then surges forward to kiss you soundly.

You’re going to take that as a yes.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #werewolf bang chan #happy halloween!!! it's finished!!

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sgiandubh · 2 years ago

Text

And kia... ora (?!) to New Zealand, like you've never seen it before 🤭

Just listened to Monica Gleberman's latest podcast with S. Twice. I can only urge you to do the same: it's 19 minutes long and well.. I'd just love to read your thoughts on it. By the way, I had no idea the woman even existed (happens a lot in SC world, at least to me) before she chimed in with indignation, you know... the Palestine Letter, and such.

But first, my short assessment, of course. By the way, this was recorded, I think, on November 1st, based on this X post:

Showbiz being showbiz, all grudge is now forgotten and you can listen to the podcast on Spotify, here (no subscription needed, of course):

OK, I honestly think her voice and her completely clueless, torrential debit are totally meh, but maybe that's just me. She made me think of one of those Tupperware representatives, always eager (hungry?) to sell something to you and do it quick, drug-dealer style. Some in Mordor thought she was drunk on the job (a half-emptied bottle of SS Gin was emphatically mentioned at least twice during the interview) - as usually, no humor and nasty.

I just think she was just acting too cool for school and #silly, with a severe case of ovaries going...

... on top.

Straight off the bat, the OTT praise is on steroids: how amazing S is, how he never changed, 'same sweetest person and like an amazing human being and friend to talk to and I just love you'. Kill me now, but that was unnecessary - yet still useful, since it prompted this answer (02:54):

'Well, that's very kind of you to say, but I think that's not true...I think there's...there's a lot of smoke and mirrors, this is ALL fake, um...underneath, there's a completely different human being. I have a double, actually. I AM the double. Um.. no, it's been a great journey, I'm very lucky and yeah, it's [OL] given me a lot of opportunities, as well (...).'

Translation: I am joking, but not even joking, if you see what I mean.

You'd think that was casual banter? You might want to think twice. Like all Taureans, bless their heart, S always almost heavily insists, when he wants to make sure the message gets across (07:12):

MG: ' Soooo, I don't know what's true, what's not true, but I'm just gonna assume that, you know, you looove watercolor. So, what is your favorite watercolor painting to make?'

Huh? Did I get that right? The answer does not match the clumsy question. At all. But see/hear for yourself:

S:' Err, you know what, I mean, I actually do, I actually have a couple paintings.. um.. from a..an artist called James Morrison, he was a Scottish artist.. he.. he actually painted a lot around Scotland, but he also painted up in the Arctic... the Arctic Circle... I'm kind of obsessed with him, so yes, this actually,,, this is truth...damn, I didn't know you'd actually put truths in here, but, you know...'

MG: ' OK, so we're already breaking barriers, right? Like revealing secrets so that is... that is... true.'

I shall not comment this. I do not think it needs any translation, to be honest.

The 'illiterate' S is, apparently, a keen art connoisseur and how could it be otherwise, if you only think of his mum? And Morrison is not just your average Scottish watercolorist. If you care to check his Wikipedia page (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Morrison_(artist), you'll find interesting things, like:

His works can fetch at auction (here at Christie's in 2006), around...

... and the recent (conservative) estimates are stable. You can check them here: https://www.invaluable.com/artist/morrison-james-1932-9fybkaiqbc/sold-at-auction-prices/. A very good investment, on a volatile, whimsical market (I know very well what I am talking about).

Surely enough, some of you will just hear that horrendous cackle and the flirt fest that totally goes south by the end of the podcast. But maybe - just maybe - if you listen a bit more carefully, you'd have a rare peek behind that damn mask.

#Spotify

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darkkitty1208 · 8 months ago

Text

on fic writing and fandom: where am i going forward?

So. It's a bloody dull Friday and I'm writing this post--have been meaning to, for a while--because I can't stop thinking about it. It's just a few (a lot, actually) thoughts I've had in my mind the past few days that I've decided to spill into a single post, which turned out far longer than it needed to be, but nothing too important. Under the cut.

I've been a fanfic writer for a while now. Not a long time by any means, but a while nonetheless. My first fic--which is now orphaned like a few of its brothers for undisclosed reasons, though if you're an og you might be able to guess why--was dated back to the 18th of November 2021. 3 years later and I've got a humble 89 works and counting (the orphaned works and unposted wips unincluded). I can safely say I've improved quite a lot since then.

Where are you going with this, then, Kitty? Surely you aren't here just to brag about your writing progress?

Well. Not exactly. But I'll start with this: I guess what I'm trying to say is I've lost the spark.

You know. The old feeling. That boost of serotonin you get after you finish a piece you're proud of, or when you get lovely reviews on ao3, or when you get a kudos email, or a new mutual, or some wild tags under your silly post. The spark. I haven't felt it in a long time, now. The last time it's been so palpable was... I'm not sure. Probably last year's October. That was a lot of fun. I was most prolific in fic writing, that year. It shouldn't feel like a long time ago. Because it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I love all this. All that's going on right now. The comments I'm getting--even if fewer than I had before--and all the other interactions, I appreciate and enjoy and love them so, so much. And writing my newer fic projects are well exciting. But it just isn't the same anymore. I'm afraid it never will be.

(Maybe it has something to do with the lack of interactions lately. Maybe? I don't really know, either. I'm sure we're all well aware the fandom is past its peak, and with the current developments in the MCU I am frankly unsurprised, but I dunno.)

I guess that's part of the reason I've been less active lately. I've been inactive as a whole this year, admittedly, and disappearing far too often for far too long (and I notice some of my friends are, too). I just didn't get the same joy from being in a fandom like I had when I first started this blog, or my ao3 account.

In hindsight, I've probably been a little too dependent on fandom to provide me serotonin. The past few years have been hard, the years before that, too. Life just keeps kicking me in the arse time and time again. I guess I've been using fandom and fic writing as a coping mechanism, and once I've had my fill, the joy dies off to something a little more dull. Like a gum I've been chewing for too long that the sweetness has since worn off.

Honestly? I don't want it to be this way. I want to live without being so dependent on my presence online. I want to live without only knowing joy through internet interactions. I've got to learn to. It sounds silly, but it's true. (I think I may be slightly chronically online, oh no. x'D)

So naturally my first instinct is to distance myself a little. I contemplated quitting, but I can't do that. I don't see myself ever doing that, no matter how many times my brain convinces me that I might.

When this year started, I had set some goals for writing. One of them was to write for more whumptober prompts than I did last year or complete them all. I did like 21 prompts or something last year. Of 31. Within a little more than a month. While still balancing all the life stuff I had going on. This is, if not obvious, an extremely ambitious goal. I am not insane. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't possibly do that now, can I? Not with all the stuff that's been happening.

...

Can I?

...

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

See, that's another thing: writing. Probably the thing I'm trying to get at in this post but otherwise derailed completely from. Fuck my brain.

I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been writing significantly less. I still post, obviously, but not as much as like, last year when the number of works I had went from a few to far too much. That had helped me improve quite a lot, actually, but those days I barely slept because I just insisted to replace my sleep time with Writing Shit For The Gays. It was pretty unhealthy now that I look back at it. My sleep schedule is still shit now but, yk. Some things just never change.

I was really, really caught up on wanting to be good at writing. Like, really good. I wanted to make awesome things. I wanted to write like a real fucking pro. Like all the more popular fandom authors I look up to. I want to be like the big dogs in fandom. It sounds so silly. I did everything; sprinting daily, setting a minimum of 500 words writing sessions every day, trying new writing styles, churning out works after works, writing for prompts and events and gifts and the like. I was enjoying it, yes, but was it really something I did for myself? Or was it because I wanted to please other people or impress other people for their validation, which is something I'm entirely too dependent of? Was it for the numbers?

Well. It was more for that than for me, I realised a little too late.

So yeah. Fuck wanting to be good. I want to write for the hell of it. I want to write something that's for me. Not what the majority of the fandom or other people want to read, but for me. Which is why I absolutely loved writing works like just a matter of time, how to kill a god, or how to become a god, because they're not meant for other people but myself. (Ironically that last work is a gift but, yk. I still liked it.) I know I joke about self-projecting a lot, but it's been seriously helping me rediscover the joy of writing that doesn't come from the incessant need to be good or perfect or focus on producing more and more and more. It makes me feel like a kid again. Also, I'm only realising this now but I'd rather get like 5 people who enjoy reading my works so much and express them to me rather than 100 people who silently thumbs up at me and then go away to consume another fic or demand more. (All this to say I still love interactions, it just shouldn't be my no. 1 priority to get them when writing fanfics.)

But yeah. None of those works are perfect. They're not meant to be. But they're mine. They're me. They represent me. And it's so, so great to feel that in writing. I've been so stuck up on being some sort of content machine. I'm doing this for myself, how could I forget? I've been saying this since the beginning, I don't know why I'm still struggling to do it. God. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. That's that. This has become a very long ramble. Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. And for letting me waste your time, if you make it to the end of this post.

#ramblings #personal #writing #i doubt anyone would bother reading this from start to finish but i needed somewhere to just Say Things and Let It Out

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constant-stateofdenial · 11 months ago

Text

sneak peak of the final chapter of that byler 5+1 I started working on last July (it's not done yet but I wanted to post part of it here)

November 1987 (+1)

Mike is sitting in the back of his US History class. Despite it practically being the apocalypse, he still had to go to school. The government was trying to make things seem as ‘normal as possible’ to everyone inside and outside of Hawkins even though every day more monsters showed up and the air became more and more toxic as the Upside Down and their world continued to bleed together. There were even vines starting to grow on buildings and trees.

Will is sitting in the seat next to him. With the government after Eleven and anyone associated with her, Ms. Byers had decided that the best thing to do was stay in Hawkins with Hopper, meaning Will would be living back in Hawkins again. This had been great news for Mike. Hawkins without Will just felt wrong. Sure, he had the rest of the Party, but it just wasn’t the same without Will. The two of them were as close as ever now.

Okay, maybe not as ever. There was still a little tension between them that made things awkward and not as much like they used to be before the Upside Down, hell, even how they used to be only before Mike started dating El, even after everything with the Upside Down started. They were both keeping things from each other, they never used to do that. Okay, that’s not totally true, either. The evidence of that is the box of notes from girls interested in Will dating back to elementary school and letters that Mike never sent to Will while he was living in California that is shoved in the back of Mike’s closet where he hopes Will won’t discover it and ask about it.

That was the one thing Mike was scared of when he learned that Will and Jonathan would be living in his house for an undetermined amount of time. This fear has only gotten worse, especially considering how often Will was in Mike’s closet. (Despite Mike’s mom and Joyce both buying Will new clothes since they couldn’t really get anything back from California, a lot of times he seemed to prefer wearing Mike’s, which totally didn’t do anything to Mike like make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, nope, not at all.)

Their teacher is talking. Something about the War of 1812. Mike isn’t really paying attention. Instead, he’s watching Will draw on his notes, although, calling them notes was an overstatement, there were just a few things jotted down from the beginning of class. Mike even had more down in his notebook than Will, and he’d been paying more attention to Will than Mr. Hanlon’s lecture. It wasn’t that he was a bad teacher, he was one of the best history teacher’s Mike has had (which doesn’t say much, considering almost every history teacher Mike has had has been terrible), but Will had been acting off lately and Mike was worried about him. He’d been quieter than usual, zoning out more often, and like now completely enraptured in his drawing of a monster from the Upside Down. Last time it was the mind-flayer. This time it’s the demogorgon, drawn in too much detail for it to be just an ‘I'm bored in class’ doodle.

Mike looks back up at the chalkboard to see ‘Treaty of Ghent — December 1814’ written on the board. Weren’t they just in 1813? He scribbles down as much as he can from the board onto his paper before Mr. Hanlon erases it. He only gets about half of the things down before the board is erased other than what was just written on it. Mike lets out a huff and drops his pencil in defeat, turning back to Will who is now working on the details of the demogorgons ‘face’.

“Will, you okay?” Mike whispers, nudging his friend, trying to bring him back to the present.

Will pauses what he’s doing, looking up at Mike from his drawing. “What’s going on?” Will asks.

“You looked like you were in your head again,” Mike says. “Are you having nightmares again? It is that time of year.”

“I’m fine, Mike,” Will sighs. “And yeah, I’m having nightmares, but what’s new?”

“You can talk to me about them if you need to. You know that, right? I know I fucked things up between us while you were in California, but I’m here now, if you need to talk to me.”

“I know Mike, I just don’t want to talk about it. Shit, when did we get to 1815?”

“We were just in 1814—and he’s erasing again. You think Lucas or Dustin have been paying attention?”

“Probably. More attention than me, anyways.” Will shrugs, then looks at Mike’s notebook. “And probably more than you, since there’s a huge gap in yours.”

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. “The quiz on this chapter will be Friday! It’s open note but remember the unit test next week will not be!” their teacher shouts as the classroom empties.

Will and Mike split in the hallway. Will had art after history while Mike had precalculus with Lucas. “Did you get the notes from history?” Mike asks, unlocking his locker, which was right next to Lucas’s.

“Did you seriously not take notes again? We have a test next week, Mike.”

“I took notes, I just didn’t get everything. I was distracted.”

Lucas closes his locker door. “Can’t you get them from Will?”

“He got even less than me. I think he’s having nightmares again. He spent the entire class drawing a demogorgon.”

“He’s always having nightmares, Mike. We all are. Plus, Friday is the anniversary of him going missing, so obviously it’s going to be worse right now.”

“I know, but he seemed out of it all class, and he didn’t really sleep last night. What if they’re getting worse, like Max’s did before…you know.”

“You think Vecna might be back and targeting him?” Lucas asks as they start heading towards their math class.

“I don’t know, maybe. It would make sense.”

“Is he having headaches? Nosebleeds?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then Vecna probably isn’t coming after him right now,” Lucas huffs as they enter the classroom and head to their seats. “Have you heard from El lately?”

#fanfiction #wip #wip wednesday #byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #there's some st5 speculation in here based on the leaks #took me so long to finally get the motivation to start writing this again #but its now like 5k words so this'll be a long one #fic updates

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fleuradors · 2 years ago

Text

DEATH

[MHA PORTALS Series 1/16]

pairing. katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

synopsis. after an argument, bakugo sadly lost you in a tragic accident.

cw. aged up, prohero!bakugo, angst, death, bakugo is in grief, bakugo feels remorse.

a/n. i'm starting my first masterlist. in dedication to melanie martinez's new album! i'm starting a portals series with mha characters! each character will have a story based on the songs in order (including the deluxe track). this is not my idea so credit to @katimagines since they were the ones who came up with it (but with k-12) I hope you like death with katsuki bakugo, I will be making more soon. enjoy!

Sounds of beeping could be heard in the bedroom.

"Fuck…" Katsuki grumbled as he reached his hand out to turn off the alarm on his phone, clearly annoyed that his alarm disturbed his slumber.

But he can't complain, he's a pro hero, and he has to get up early and work. He sat up from his bed and stretched his arms, yawning. He then reached into his nightstand to check his phone, checking the time, and then he looked at the date…

November 8th…

As soon as he saw that, he felt a chill go down his spine. God, that date. Why did it have to exist?

"Shit…already? This is a fucking nightmare"

He looks over to the photo frame that was also on his nightstand. It was a picture of him and you at a carnival. It was taken while you guys were on the Ferris wheel, with you smiling so innocently while he on the other hand raised his middle finger, the bright lights in the background making you two glow like a glowstick.

Man, that felt like forever ago, he wished he could go back to those days. But unfortunately, that wish would most likely never come true. You had died in an unfortunate accident, that was something that made Bakugo crack. He never was the same since. He remembers the day so vividly.

You two had gotten into an argument that day. It was late at night, and you were cleaning in the kitchen when suddenly Bakugo burst through the front door, his costume was ripped up and he was dirty. He was panting as if he ran so fast to get to your guy's home that you both share. You offered him some help but he shoved you away, claiming that he could clean up himself. You simply brushed it aside and let him do his business while you continued to clean up the kitchen.

After you got done, you made dinner for both you and Bakugo, you figured that he was done getting freshened up so you went to your shared bedroom to tell him. You find him on his desk doing some paperwork.

"Hey Kats, I made dinner. The food is on the tab-"

"Just bring it here" He suddenly said, eyes glued to the paper he was doing.

"Are you sure you don't wanna eat it with me?" You question, feeling saddened that your boyfriend doesn't want to eat together with you.

"Yes, I'm sure," He responded. You gave in and gave him his food, setting it on the desk. You watched as he grabbed his chopsticks and ate the food while still keeping his eyes on the paper. He didn't even spare a glance at you when you entered the room or when you offered him food. You ended up sitting at the dinner table alone, eating the food you made for yourself.

Something like this always happens just recently. He would prioritize his hero work over you. Not giving you enough attention or appreciation when you do something for him. You figured it was just his busyness which is probably the reason why he barely acknowledges you. I mean being the number two hero is not easy. However, it still bothered you how much he has been neglecting you, so you decided to calmly talk about it to him, that somehow escalated into a full-blown argument.

"ALL I'M ASKING IS FOR YOU TO TAKE A LITTLE BREAK AND GIVE ME SOME LOVE FOR A LITTLE WHILE"

"THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I DO GIVE YOU SOME LOVE"

"YOU BARELY SPARED A GLANCE AT ME WHEN I GAVE YOU YOUR FOOD. I SWEAR YOU LET BEING A PRO HERO TAKE OVER YOUR LIFE SO MUCH SO THAT YOU DON'T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR OWN PARTNER!"

"WELL, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT? I'M THE NUMBER TWO HERO, OF COURSE, IT'S GOING TO BE MY LIFE"

"BUT YOUR LIFE IS MORE THAN BEING A HERO. YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A WONDERFUL PERSON WHO WOULD LITERALLY SCRATCH YOUR BACK FOR YOU. I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND INSTEAD OF APPRECIATING ME, YOU FLAT-OUT IGNORED ME. I CLEAN YOUR WOUNDS YOU IGNORED ME, I COOK YOU FOOD YOU IGNORED ME, I CLEAN THE HOUSE YOU IGNORED ME. WHAT AM I? YOUR S/O OR YOUR SERVANT?!"

"YOU'RE MY S/O, OF COURSE, WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?"

"IF THAT'S HOW YOU SEE ME THEN HOW COME YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT?!" Tears began to well up in your eyes.

"I'M SORRY BUT I'M NOT SEEING WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS?!"

"I JUST EXPLAIN WHY I HAVE A PROBLEM! SEE, THIS IS ANOTHER THING. YOU DON'T LISTEN!"

"WELL, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!"

"PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME, IT IS NOT THAT HARD!!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT Y/N, YOU'RE SO SELFISH! YOU KNOW DAMN WELL HOW MUCH BEING A HERO MEANS TO ME AND YOU OBVIOUSLY DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT IT"

"...Are you serious? Are you actually kidding me? You're seriously blaming me? I never thought you could stoop this low" Your voice cracks up as you finally break and started crying.

"You know Katsuki, I always saw the better in you when others didn't. I helped you with your anger issues and I helped you assist at the agency. I am heartbroken that this is what I get in return. Unappreciated and unloved"

You then grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and opened the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk to clear my head, I just want to be alone for a while" Was all you said before walking out and closing the door. Little did you know that those were going to be your last words. A minute later, the sounds of screaming struck Bakugo's ears. He rushed to the window and gave it a little peak, only to see a car parked in the middle of the road and your body in a pool of blood.

Time felt like it stop for Bakugo as he saw that you were not moving, his blood ran cold as he feared that the worst had happened. Without thinking twice, he ran out into the cold night without his jacket and rushed to your body. A woman was standing by her car, her face in pure horror as she realized what she had done.

"I'm so sorry! They came out of nowhere and I didn't have time to break!"

The woman was apologizing profusely, but Bakugo tuned her out. He was more focused on you. He held your bloody body with his two arms, he checked your pulse, he couldn't feel it…

At the hospital, the doctors confirmed it, you were dead. Bakugo almost felt like he was about to have a heart attack. He wanted to yell and scream at the doctors for lying. But he couldn't let it out, it was like the words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat.

At the funeral, he kept convincing himself that this had to be some sort of hallucination or nightmare he was enduring, but unfortunately, he was not. He was in reality. The funeral was lit with candles and fresh flowers decorated your tombstone, the setting was beautiful for such a somber occasion. Everyone mourned your loss and said their prayers, while Bakugo stood there, wearing his best suit, clutching a fake candle in his hand, trying his hardest not to break down into tears. When it was finally over and he got into his car, he just let it out.

He let all of the emotions he'd been holding in for so long finally be shown at a dimly lit parking lot. Not only was he saddened that you were dead, but he also felt guilty. He blamed himself for getting you killed. He felt like a terrible boyfriend. This wouldn't have happened if he just didn't let his anger get the better of him. Damn, why did he have to start an argument? Why did he have to be so hard-headed? You were right, he never listens, and now thanks to him, you were gone, forever.

5 years later and Bakugo was still in deep sorrow. Every time Kirishima and the rest of the Bakusquad wanted to hang out with him, he would shut them out. How could he do anything when you weren't around anymore? His friends tried everything to comfort him, but he was inconsolable.

Slowly getting up, he went inside the bathroom to take a quick shower. He then made himself breakfast and put on his hero suit. He then went outside to unlock his car but not before locking the door to his house, he put the keys into the ignition, turned on the car, and drove off.

He stops by the flower shop to pick some flowers for your grave. He entered the store and the first thing his eyes set on was a set of white calla lilies. You've always liked Calla lilies, especially the white ones as you believe that it was a symbol of rebirth and resurrection. In fact, you believed in a lot of shit, such as how you believed that there was life after death and reincarnation. Bakugo always called you weird for that but secretly, he found you quite interesting. As soon as he saw those flowers, he knew he had to get those for you, after all, it's the least he could do after what he's done.

He paid for the flowers and got back in his car and drove his way to the cemetery. Walking through the site, he passed by all the other tombstones of the citizens of Japan, eyes only focusing on the one tombstone that was the shape of a heart, with your name carved into it. Approaching your grave, he kneels down to his knee and places the flowers by your tombstone. Then he just sat there, in the grass, reading what was carved in it.

"Y/N…" He spoke out.

"I know I've said this a hundred times but, please forgive me for that night. I didn't mean to neglect you. It's just, work has been so hectic these days. Villains are out there doing their fucking crimes, I had a shit load of paperwork, it was all hell. But that doesn't excuse me for rarely giving you any attention, I'm sorry for making you feel like you're being unappreciated. You didn't deserve that. Please take these flowers as an apology and if you can hear me, show me a sign that you forgive me"

Just then, his phone began to ring. He checked it to see it was his secretary.

"Yes?"

"Sorry if I interrupt anything Mr. Bakugo but I must remind you that you have an interview with Mx. Yuno for the assistant position today"

Crap, he completely forgot about that.

"Alright, I'll be there in 15 minutes. Let Mx. Yuno know in case they come early"

"Gotcha! I'll see you later, Mr. Bakugo"

The call ended and Bakugo took one last look at your grave.

"I love you, Y/N"

And just like that, he went back into his car and drove away.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Bakugo sat in his office, waiting for his interviewee to arrive. They called to tell him that they would be a few minutes late due to heavy traffic and Bakugo did some work on his computer to pass some time. Just then, he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in"

His secretary peeked her head through the door.

"Good Morning Mr. Bakugo, I am just here to let you know that Mx. Yuno is here"

"Alright, bring them in"

The secretary then left, leaving the door cracked open. Seconds later, she comes back.

"Here he is, good luck"

He heard the secretary say before closing the door, leaving Bakugo with his interviewee. Bakugo didn't even look at them as he was busy organizing the papers.

"Please excuse me for a moment, I need to keep everything in place"

"Sure, no problem"

Bakugo took a little peak at his interviewee and his eyes went wide.

They looked exactly like his late s/o, every facial structure looked the same, your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your ears, they even have your eye color. The only difference was your hair as it was a different color.

"Is everything okay?"

Bakugo snapped out of it. He must've stared at them for a little too long, but how could he not when the person he is interviewing is the exact replica of you.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, you kind of remind me of someone I know. Let's get this interview started"

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

After about an hour and 40 minutes the interview was over.

"I will need time to review your answers, you should get your results in about a week or two, thank you for coming, you have a nice day"

Yuno gets up from their seat and begins to walk to the door. Bakugo couldn't help but look at them, so much of Yuno reminded him of you, he wonders if this is just a coincidence or you just have a twin you never mentioned before.

He stops what he is doing and begins to do some paperwork he never finished until…

"Also, Mr. Bakugo…"

He looks up from his papers and sees Yuno halfway out the door.

"I forgive you…"

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉, 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊- (𝕴'𝖒 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐)

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cforcoelacanth · 4 months ago

Text

Okay so this is gonna be technically a big repost of a reblog I made as a response to @helmetjellyfish's absolutely beautiful fishpost analysis (Which I'm SO surprised someone found out as well just a couple days after I came to that conclusion in the Magmell Discord!) I realized tumblr reblogs don't work the same way as twitter qrts, so i'll be reposting this to see what the people here have to say about it

Repost Starts here;

Oh man, I had this epiphany and ranted about it in the magmell disc server in... october, I think? Maybe early November right before you posted this, I'm not sure. Didn't even know anyone else connected the dots as well lol

But yeah, it's very heavily implied from the beginning that Koutarou and Kouyou are assigned to the Coelacanth. From Chapter 1's first ever animal shown being the Coelacanth (right after the first panel being Koutarou's childhood with Kouyou, mind you) all the way over to this absolute beast of a scene in Volume 10. Koutarou's Coelacanth pillow, a bunch of his promo art including Coelacanths, just everything Coelacanth. So odd for a character who is canonically assigned to the giant isopod.

I've said it far too many times in the disc, but the fact that both Kouyou and Koutarou are eluded to the Coelacanth a ton really emphasizes the main, sort of, moral message Magmell wants to send (or what I believe it is trying to send.)

Its a very simple message, one that a lot of people can say without thought, or that it could sound nearly offensive, or useless, or generic. But it's a message that really just, holds true for every person no matter their circumstance.

I feel like the Coelacanth is Magmell's message. The fish that went through everything nature could give it. Mass extinctions, climate change, everything terrible. But it kept persisting. From Miguashaia, to Mawsonia, to Megalocoelacanthus, to Latimeria. It went past the Placoderms, the Acanthodians. No matter what tried to kill them, they always persisted. And that's evident with Kouyou's message to Minato in Chapter 49. "As long as you live, you might encounter miracles. So, Minato, why don't you try to live longer too?"

Magmell's message is to simply keep moving forward. It sounds stupid, yet, it always works, doesn't it? When Koutarou was in grief for all of Volume 9, when Ryou was breaking down trying to hold on to his identity, when Haruno was talking with the co-director after Minato's vacation leave. All of these characters were scarred and lost at their worst moments. (Haruno and Shinya, we haven't seen fully their trauma, however.) But right now, they're still here. "Because people can live with their grief." Because even after everything they've been through, they still kept going, and they're still alive.

Kouyou's message to Minato in Chapter 49 is directly reflected in what Minato often sees as Kouyou's new half, that new soul that reminds Minato of his old friend.

Koutarou is the jellyfish that grew bones, Koutarou is the miracle that Kouyou lived for, Koutarou is the embodiment of Kouyou's will.

From that slightly fragile, sensitive boy who gets seasick near the port and tries all he can to save every fish, to the boy who was able to accept his grief and withstand the pressure of the deep sea, and as a result "grew bones". He's assigned to the Giant Isopod, deep sea creatures that can withstand great differences in pressure, and he's also related with the Hadal Snailfish in Volume 9, the fish that lives in the deepest part of the ocean.

Time and time again, Koutarou keeps on proving Kouyou's message right, even if he doesn't even know it. Koutarou is the embodiment of Kouyou, his message, and the Coelacanth. He keeps moving forward, he always persists, and he always helps others in need. Koutarou's will to keep going even at his lowest points and his choice to save Ryou from another Mizu5 situation was a direct incarnation of Kouyou's will.

Koutarou carries the will of the Coelacanth, the will to always keep moving forward, the will to never back down. The Coelacanth has persisted for 375 million years, and it will persist for another 375 million. Koutarou isn't just Kouyou's shadow, he is an entirely different person, his own self, but he is still the continuation of Kouyou's will. Latimeria is the continuation of Miguashaia's will all those years ago. And Miguashaia was always right.

...And that is precisely why Minato is such a tragic character. He's someone with a soul so similar to Kouyou, with a passion filled with love, and he had rarely been given any of it. Where Koutarou found love, acceptance, and family, Minato is seemingly devoid of it. There's a lot to unravel with Minato's character, and subsequently Haruno and Shinya. Themes of family, themes of abandonment, grief, and acceptance. Minato is a character deeply rooted in the phenomenon known as the Whalefall. When a whale dies, it falls deep into the bottom of the sea, where it gives new life to the ecosystem in the depths, at the cost of whatever is left of its life being eaten away slowly.

Minato has given a lot to the crew of the Magmell. He seemingly helped Shinya with his family troubles, provided Asahi with an escape from his family's iron grip, indirectly saved Ryou with the dysphoria that was breaking him apart, saved Haruno with his undisclosed issues to the point he feels indebted, and gave Koutarou his passion for the deep sea. He was a mentor with everyone, and gave them a new life to live. And yet, he couldn't really live his own.

He is trapped in the past, forever haunted by it. But how could he not be? Both of the people he loved are gone, and he might have hurt the one that saved his life. And even with them all gone, he is surrounded by their mirrors and ghosts. The love of his life, mirrored by the child she left as her parting gift, and his dearest best friend, mirrored by a boy lost in his life, reminding him of his own past, and the person that saved it. And yet, they will never be them. Nagisa and Koutarou are not, and will never be, Nagiko and Kouyou.

Perhaps, sometime soon, Minato will finally understand Kouyou's message. But then again,

Where Miguashaia persisted and left Latimeria for the world,

Basilosaurus never did have any modern descendants, did it?

#deep sea aquarium magmell #dsam #magmell #magmell shinkai suizokukan #minato osezaki #MAN i love magmell #and coelacanths #and koutarou #UGHHH THIS SERIES MAKES MY FISHLOVING HEART ILL #AND MY DINOSAUR ONE #this is why coelacanths are the best animal ever.

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