#this was all i could think of currently lmao- i might add some

[plenty-of-eggs]

staff sucks at making these badges they should hire me for ideas

10k notes...to me - Reach 10k likes and/or reblogs!

Time to log off! - Block someone!

Wait, what was I doing? - Scroll through 100 posts of one tag.

The President's New Shoes - Congrats on buying those sick tumblr laces! Just don't mention how you got them. ;)

Against my Will - Have a tumblr blog for at least 4 years.

X marks the spot! - Let people know you came from Twitter!

r/196 - Let people know you came from Reddit!

War...war never changes.. - Enlist in the Skeleton Army once again.

Misha - For survivors of the Mishapocalypse.

Not again... - For "sexyman" connoisseurs.

No Rest for the Wicked - Show off your SuperWhoLock pride!

[changbunnies]

Connected (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight!Bang Chan x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, royal au, historical au, knight x princess au, arranged marriage (for reader), forbidden love, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining (they are so oblivious)

♡ Word Count: 15.9k (oops lmao)

♡ Summary: Y/N, as princess of the kingdom, is destined to marry for politics and financial gain, but all she wants is to marry for love. Chan, her childhood friend turned royal knight, has to either come to terms with her inevitable marriage, or finally confess the feelings he's been harboring for years.

♡ Warnings: very brief minho x reader, extremely jealous chan, also lowkey possessive chan, (he's not in any toxic way at all but still), reader is implied to be plus size, old timey traditions and expectations of women to suit the setting, i think thats about it ??

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (princess (mostly as a title), darling, my love) loss of virginity (both reader and chan are virgins), nipple play, fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, overall very soft sex with some shyness and teasing sprinkled in, breeding kink if you squint

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my a03 here and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams ! and thank you so much for all the love my works have gotten so far, i appreciate it sm !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A sigh passes your lips as you stare out at the sprawling nature before you from up on your balcony. The sight of trees swaying in the wind, flowers blooming towards the sun, and animals skittering about on the earth below always helped to ease your troubled mind. You always found yourself here when the worries of life and your duty proved too much for you. As the kingdom’s heir to the throne, you weren't often afforded the luxury of leaving your castle, or dirtying your soles by prancing in the nearby forest. 

Instead, you often had to settle for the next best thing- simply observing it. Normally that was enough for you, but on days like today, where you were constantly bombarded with responsibility and expectations, you wished you could flee into the forest and never look back. It would be difficult to flee your life, but surely it would be better than this. You were tired of feeling so stifled all the time. 

"All that sighing isn't going to help, Princess," a familiar voice speaks from the doorway of your bedroom. "I know that," you frown, turning to look at your childhood friend turned royal knight with crossed arms and a glare on your face. You know Chan doesn’t mean to add to your frustration, and normally you wouldn’t snap at him over a comment made in jest, but you're really in no mood for it right now. You’ll apologize later when you’re less quick to anger, but you are currently too stuck in your feelings to respond kindly. 

It'd been a week since you were informed of your inevitable marriage, and you still hadn’t come to terms with it to any degree. Your father, the current King, informed you that the eligible men who desired your hand would be arriving later in the month, and how you were expected to be on your best "womanly" behavior when meeting your suitors for the first time. You knew it would happen someday but you still loathed the idea of it.. It made you feel like an object, like a pawn to be used rather than a person with her own thoughts and feelings. 

"My apologies Princess, but you've been really down these past few days. I thought you might enjoy some company," Chan explains with his perfectly rehearsed politeness that you haven't quite gotten used to hearing yet. "Stop calling me Princess when it's just the two of us, it's unnecessary," you complain while Chan looks at you with a playful smile. 

"Very well, Princess," he teases in response, laughing when you scowl at him for it. Chan has been your knight for a little over a year now, and while you did enjoy having him around more often, the tone shift from friend to knight was jarring. There were times where you missed your old dynamic, when he'd speak to you with no pleasantries or titles (though it did often incur the wrath of your attendants for being 'disrespectful' to the princess.)

You never found him disrespectful however; you actually quite liked that he always spoke to you candidly and without pretenses. Even as a kid you'd noticed the way commoners treated you differently from everyone else, and you liked that Chan didn't. Though he was just a child like yourself at the time, and most likely did not realize the impact it had on you, you enjoyed being able to feel like a normal person. 

He was often on the castle grounds due to his parents, his mother a maidservant and his father a horseman. And while he was never supposed to have met you due to the difference in station, you two often found yourselves in each other's path. You learned to ride horses together under his father's tutelage, he would accompany his mother around the castle as she cleaned various rooms, and he’d always wave to you with a goofy smile while you were studying (even if it ended in a scolding from the adults around him.)

You had quickly become fond of him, your only friend in an otherwise lonely world. You can remember fondly the days where he would distract you from your lessons by making silly gestures behind your tutors' backs, and how he’d gift you trinkets from outside the castle’s walls, such as cheap dolls and freshly picked flowers. 

They were “plain” by royal standards, but you still loved them dearly, as they were things you had never had in your life until he brought them to you. He would even bring delicious pastries and fresh bread made by his mother, which had become your favorite things to eat simply because it was so different from everything else you were allowed to have. 

Chan steps onto the balcony, taking his place next to you. He leans against the banister, staring out at the scenery that held your attention moments ago. "I don't want you to get married yet either," he admits after a brief moment of silence. You look at him, taking in the sullen expression on his face. You are initially surprised he looks so sad, allowing you to catch a glimpse at his usually hidden vulnerability.

You know very well that he, like anyone, is capable of feeling a depth of complex emotions, but he rarely shows you that side of himself. You spend so much of your days stressed or tired or daydreaming about being anything other than what you are, so he chooses not to burden you with any feelings he has. You've told him many times that he could, even encouraged him to share with you, but he always said he'd rather focus on making you feel better because that would make him feel better too. 

“You don’t..?” you ask, though you wonder what you are even expecting to hear in response. He’s your best friend and he cares about your feelings, so obviously he doesn’t want to see you go through something you hate, obviously it saddens him to see a friend hurting. But despite yourself, you still hope for his feelings to go beyond that. 

You want to hear him say he cares about your inevitable marriage not as a concerned best friend, but as a man. A man who loves you, a man who wants you, a man who would fight for your hand in marriage against all odds. It's foolish, you know this, but you can’t stop yourself but hoping for it. 

Your heart ignores the logic your brain provides, disregarding that he'll never be allowed to marry you even if he did have romantic feelings for you and was willing to fight against tradition for you. It doesn't matter that he has devoted his life to protecting you, that he's extremely well read or gifted in combat, or that he grew up within the same castle walls that you have. He will always be "beneath you", his merits never good enough, all because he was born to commoners. 

You always hated that. Why do the circumstances of someone's birth have to matter so much? Why does fate have to be decided based on what family you are born into? And you can still remember vividly the day you realized you cared for him as more than just the best friend you grew up with. When he stood before you, handsome in his weathered training armor and practice sword in hand, smiling proudly as he devoted his life to your care, your heart fluttered.

Chan worked hard to be your knight, practiced with his sword to the point of exhaustion, spent countless hours reading about affairs between nations and studying combat techniques, all to be the one who protects you. He dedicated his life to you, to being by your side through everything, even if it meant putting his personal affairs on hold. 

There were times where you still didn’t understand why he sacrificed so much of his freedom for you. The life you lived was so stuffy and restricting, and he could do anything. He could do whatever he wanted with life, live anywhere in the world, choose from a myriad of careers, yet he chose to be stuck in the castle with you for the rest of his youth. 

The day you turned 14, you confessed to him that you were dreading the day you both became adults because you knew your lives would take you different places. Even if he followed in his father’s footsteps and became the castle's horseman, you'd likely rarely, if ever, see him. It was something you thought about a lot, as you were often reminded by your elders of your responsibilities to the kingdom, but that day it was hitting you particularly hard. 

That day sticks firmly in Chan's head as well; he can still remember the way tears pricked the corners of your eyes, the reality of getting older and the responsibilities that were soon to follow already bearing heavily on you. That was the day he decided he’d work hard to always be near you, as he never wanted to see you cry over his separation from you. If there was no reason for him to stay, he would make one. If it meant freedom and choice was taken from him, he was willing to let those things go. If it was for you, it would be worth it.

When you asked him why he decided to become a knight despite the sacrifice and responsibility it entailed, why he was willing to give up so much to stay in the castle with you, he simply smiled at you. “It’s where I am meant to be,” he replied, dimples lighting up his face in an expression so sweet it made your stomach flip. 

You fell in love with him that day. Or maybe you always loved him, and that was the day you fully realized it. That intangible feeling that always lingered whenever you looked at him, that you couldn’t hold and understand but knew was there. It was love, all that time. You knew it then, and you still know it now. Chan is the only person you will ever love. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon comforting you, as he always does when you are feeling unhappy and indignant. Giving you kind words or gentle, comforting silence when you need it, transitioning into his goofy side who makes jokes and does his best to make you laugh as soon as you show that you are feeling better. 

And it does help, but in a way it also makes it worse. Because unbeknownst to him, he’s just reaffirming your love for him. For every gesture that endears you to him, it also makes your heart sink even further. And worse of all, you can’t even be upset about it- because he doesn’t know your feelings, he doesn’t know how his kindness feels akin to a knife in your gut. 

And it’s likely he’ll never know. Because when can you tell him? How can you tell him? It’s not meant to be, and it never will be. For as long as you are royalty, he’ll never be allowed to love you, and you’ll never be allowed to love him. The sooner you accept it the better off you’ll be, but you don’t know if you ever can. 

How do you make yourself stop loving someone so perfect? How do you put aside your feelings, how do you pretend that they never existed in the first place? You’re lost, you’re stuck, and you know nothing will change it. You suppose the best you can do is enjoy the little time you have remaining. Live in the moment with him instead of worrying so much about the future, because once it’s here you won’t be able to get this time back. 

That’s why you smile for him, earnestly. You laugh with him the way you always do, you reminisce about your childhoods, you talk about all your favorite things instead of wallowing in what you hate. You don’t allow yourself to frown or cry until he’s gone for the night, the setting of the sun beckoning him out of your room and to his own. 

You cry as you wash off the day's grime in the bath, you cry as you towel off in front of the mirror, and you cry as you lie in your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you think about all the joy you will never have. Because you will lose Chan before you ever even had him. Never being allowed to hold his hand, to kiss him, to lie with him.. Because he is your knight, and a princess isn’t supposed to fall in love with one. 

It’d been over a month since your suitors first started arriving at the castle to meet you, settling into their guest rooms and (frustratingly) occupying your days. You were as respectful as you were expected to be, but you really didn’t put in any effort to get to know them more deeply. You just weren’t interested in any romantics with them. 

If the situation were different, and these were men you were meeting with the prospect of friendship or strengthening ties between allied kingdoms platonically, you would be much more susceptible to the pleasantries. As it stands now, you can’t put yourself out there for them the way you are expected to. 

Most of them seem nice enough, and for the ones with gentler personalities you do feel bad for your standoff-ish attitude, but showing your disinterest firmly is the best way to not give anyone false hopes. You know you won’t fall in love with any of them, and wouldn’t it be worse to lead them on by having no backbone? 

Sure, you could be a bit nicer, but why would you be? They are all here with the intention to marry you, they all have a goal in mind- to win you over by any means necessary. Even if they had the purest of intentions, it wouldn’t sway you to change your mind so easily. At the end of the day, no matter who is here for a chance at genuine love and who is here for political gain, you are being treated like an object, and it’s something you detest with your entire being. 

Leaving aside your feelings for Chan (which undeniably also plays a part in your disdain for your situation), you still wouldn’t enjoy this process. Maybe it was your own fault for idolizing fairytales and spending your free time daydreaming about what your perfect life would look like, but what can you say? You’re a hopeless romantic, even to a fault, it seems. Is it truly so bad for you to want genuine love with someone? A love that happens organically, unforced by any outside factors pushing for it? 

And now here you are, letting your maids prepare your attire and dress for tonight’s ball, where you will be expected to mingle with and accept the advances of your suitors, even if it is performative in nature. You try your best not to scowl in disapproval when your maids talk excitedly about your “romances” and who they think is most handsome out of your suitors, and who they hope you will choose. 

You wish you could scream out, “I choose none! I don’t want to marry any of them!” You’d gladly let these girls take their pick of the men who came for you. It seems that the fan favorite, as it were, is Sir Minho, the handsome son to Duke Lee in the western lands. Apart from being attractive, he’s well-mannered, compassionate with animals, and skilled in battles of wit. 

If you were being truthful, he was an easy pick. He was easily the most desirable of every suitor, not just from a personal standpoint, but also from a political standpoint. Keeping relations with the west positive would lower chances of revolt or separation into their own independent nation. Yes, if you were smart and not at all stubborn, you would most certainly pick Minho. But stubborn you undeniably were; opinions firm and unbending, resistant to compromise or sacrifice.

And honestly, shouldn’t that be expected? Why wouldn’t the princess, who is capable of having everything she ever wanted, not be selfish when it comes to love? You like to think yourself a reasonable person, one who makes sound decisions and goes through life with a firm sense of rationality. However, when it comes to Chan, all rational thought and decision making seems to leave you, replaced solely by emotion. 

Your heart overtakes you, arguing fiercely with your rational and intelligent brain, as if making the logical, sensible choice would be foolish despite the reality being the opposite. You let out a sigh, that your maids thankfully mistake as one of exhaustion. While you arguably had the easiest job in the room, just sitting around and letting others doll you up, it was still tiring in its own right. 

Layers upon layers of petticoats, chemises, and skirts, tight garters to hold up your stockings, squeezing into a corset and then adding even more layers on top of that.. If the end result wasn’t so gorgeous, you’d absolutely hate this process. And god forbid you needed to use the bathroom at any point- that endeavor in itself was hellish. 

After the grueling task of fitting you into your finest royal blue ensemble, your hair and makeup came next. You begged for it to be on the simpler side, as you would be occupied for hours tonight and really didn't want to worry about keeping it pristine the entire time, and they thankfully obliged the request. There’s a few moments of downtime when they are finished, which thankfully gives you time to breathe and prepare yourself mentally for the night’s festivities. 

There is a knock on the door, which the maids closest to the door don’t hesitate to open. It’s Chan, of course, as it’s his job to come collect you whenever it’s necessary for you to leave your room. That’s another reason this night you’re upset about tonight- you wish you could walk together to the ballroom as a couple, instead of as a knight and princess. “It is time to go, Princess. The guests have begun arriving in the ballroom.” he says, keeping his gaze professional under the watchful eyes of the maids in the room. 

But God, is that hard for him. You're so unbelievably beautiful it makes his heart feel like it's twisting in his chest. He’s lucky that no one in the room seemed to notice the way it stole his breath away, or the way his eyes lingered on you for far longer than they should have before he directed you to follow him out of the door. 

You thank your maids for their help before you depart, and they all say some variation of “have fun!” as you leave the room. “Fun” is doubtful in this scenario, but you’ll certainly try to not be miserable, at least. Try being the keyword- you make no such promises of how things will actually play out. 

You put on the best smile you can manage when you enter the room, letting various guests greet you, briefly indulging them in small talk before Chan helps you move your way past them. You take a seat next to your parents, with Chan standing just a few feet away- a respectable distance as to not intrude on the royal family, but close enough to reach you quickly if something went wrong.  

As is to be expected, sticking close to your parents and away from the dancing doesn’t spare you from any attention. Those who are permitted to speak with the royal family appear to you in a near constant stream, with monotonous questions about how you’ve been and how you feel about your inevitable marriage in tow. God, the night has just begun and you’re already tired. Is it too early to retreat back to the safety of your room? 

You take a quick glance around the ballroom, taking note of all the guests you have an obligation to talk to and who you could feasibly get away with staying away from. Unfortunately, it seems like your evening will be full of talking to people you don't want to deal with. You said you'd try to have a good time, but that didn't mean you had to right this second, did it? You're definitely staying at the table for as long as possible, even if it causes your guests to think of you disfavorably (and if you're lucky, it will.) 

It's probably about two hours into the gathering when your parents seem to grow tired of you doing nothing but sitting with them at the head table. You can tell even before it happens that your mother and father have something to say about your silent protest. "Why aren't you out there, dear?" your mother asks, taking a gentler approach despite the obvious frown of displeasure on her face. Truthfully, she understands your sadness and feels for your plight, but she can’t allow you to wallow in it. You are very clearly sulking, proper manners ignored as you sit with crossed arms and a pout. “Don’t like to dance,” you lie, but everyone near you knows that isn’t true. 

You normally loved dancing. You would attend your dance lessons enthusiastically, and later you would sneak Chan into the ballroom to teach him everything you learned. Although he loved music and followed rhythms easily on his own, his initial steps with you were always awkward. His excuse was that he was nervous to be dancing with the princess, but you would remind him that since being the princess never made him hesitate with you before, it shouldn’t matter now.

In all honesty, a majority of his nerves came from being afraid of making a mistake in front of you. Chan could normally dance very well, often being complimented and told he was a natural at it, but doing it with you made him especially nervous. What if you felt how sweaty his palms were becoming just from having you closer than usual? What if you could hear how loudly his heart was pounding? What if the nerves made him do the steps wrong? 

He really liked you, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in your presence. Chan is often goofy, yes, but it was always willfully. He liked making you laugh and smile, but he didn’t want that side of him to be out in that moment. He found himself wanting you to see a different side of him, he wanted to impress you with how easily he picked up what you taught him, he wanted you to compliment him with your sweet voice.

To his own relief, Chan eventually managed to conquer his nerves, and he was able to pick up the steps and lead the dance without making an embarrassment of himself. Soon enough, the two of you would regularly spend hours in the ballroom together, dancing until late into the evening. With no band to play music for you, the both of you would take turns humming melodies, though you always preferred when Chan was the one doing it as his voice was so melodic and beautiful to you. 

With your memories of each shared, secret dance so clear in your mind, how can you dance with any of these men and not think of Chan? How do you look at any of them and not compare their differences? How can you be with them without thinking about how you’d rather be with Chan instead? Even if they were lovely, even if they were without flaw, they weren’t who you wanted to be with. 

You glance at Chan, who has to remain stone faced in these moments. Your parents are aware that you became friends with him well before he was inaugurated into knighthood, but they don’t realize to what extent. They don’t know about the countless hours spent together, how you’d disregard rules to be near him, or how you’d sneak him into spaces he normally wouldn’t be allowed in. He can’t make them aware of how close the two of you truly are by reacting, and you know this well, but you still can't help but seek him out in every moment. 

Noticing you looking at him, Chan shoots you a small look of sympathy before your parents can notice, doing his best to ease you despite the restrictions. He knows you don’t want to do this, and that you hate being scolded and reminded of how “important” it is to have a “good” husband. “Good” meaning having power, or wealth, or a prestigious lineage in this case. You don’t want to care about formalities, traditions, or responsibilities. You don’t want to prioritize superficial qualities or be in a loveless marriage purely for alliance. 

Is it really so terrible for you to just be in love with someone for who they are instead of what they have? You don’t care about what they have to offer or what legacies their families hold. You want to be with the person whose smile lights up your world. You want to be with the person who sacrificed so much just to stay within your realm. You want Chan. 

“Your suitors would love to dance with you,” your father says, “You should at least try to get along with them, don’t be stubborn. You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.” Chan watches your expression change, the mix of anger and sadness bubbling within you becoming increasingly more apparent. He wishes he could rush to your side and help, but he can't. So instead he stands in place, fists clenched in a vain effort to ground himself as he remains frozen to his spot. 

“Of course father,” you say as you stand, biting your tongue so as to not make a scene in the middle of an extravagant ball. Despite your tumultuous feelings, you're not foolish enough to disrespect the king with an audience. “I need a moment, if you’ll allow it,” you say and your father nods, finding it a reasonable enough compromise. 

You bow politely before you go despite how badly you wish you could storm out and give a bitter display of aggression. Chan moves to follow you, (which he would do even if it wasn't his job,) but your mother calls for him to wait a moment. “I’m aware my daughter is unhappy about this, but try to talk some sense into her for me, will you? I doubt she’ll listen to us, upset as she is. She may find it easier to listen to someone unattached to the situation.” 

‘Unattached.’ If only she knew Chan was terribly, terribly attached to the situation- attached to you. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he answers politely, bowing before he steps away to follow your path out of the ballroom. It doesn’t take him long to find you despite his delay leaving; he knows you well enough to know where you prefer to be when upset.

You are outside, sitting on the steps leading to the garden, arms hugging your legs with your head against your knees. You feel trapped, and looking out at nature always helps (even if in this case said nature was still confined within the castle’s walls.) You lift your head when you hear Chan’s footsteps behind you, wiping stray tears from your eyes as he approaches. “Y/N..” he speaks softly, heart tugging at him painfully; he always hated seeing you cry. 

He sits next to you, deciding comforting you was more important than worrying about who would see the two of you being close. If he gets in trouble, so be it; you need your friend right now, not your knight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you carefully to his side. “I hate this,” you mumble with a trembling voice, burying your face in his shoulder. 

Chan swallows, trying to find the words to say. He hates it too- unbearably so. Every time he pictures you being in love with someone else it makes him physically ill. He doesn’t want to think about how devastated he’ll be hearing you say ‘I love you’ to another man, how excruciating it will be for him to watch from the sidelines while you build a future with someone he can never be. 

He knows his heart will crumble when he sees you make your eternal vows to someone else, so beautiful and demure and forever out of his reach. He made his promise to be your knight for the remainder of his days knowing this is what it would entail, but fuck, it still hurts. Chan has always considered himself a strong and resilient person, and he felt like he could handle this inevitability, but maybe he was naive to think so. 

Nothing could have prepared him for how painful the reality actually was. His mistake wasn’t falling in love with someone unattainable- his mistake was thinking he could survive the heartbreak. In all his life, he’ll never regret falling in love with you or becoming the knight you need, but he’s still human. A selfish human, who wants more than he can be granted, who wants to marry his beloved princess more than any treasure or title in the world. 

Chan does his best to keep his breathing steady, not wanting to alert you that he was affected by this way more than a friend or knight should be. He thinks about what your father said to you shortly before you left the ballroom. ‘You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.’  

As much as he hated to admit it, your father had a point. And he could see why your mother wanted him to make you understand, but did he really have it in him to follow her request? Could he encourage you to try to fall in love with someone else knowing how it’d tear him apart? It’s the last thing he ever wants to do, but devoting his life to you meant he had to put aside selfish desires. He couldn’t let his love for you cloud his judgment, he couldn’t sabotage your chance at happiness to make himself feel better. How can he be a proper knight if he puts his selfish hopes above what is best for you in the long run? 

“Listen.. I know you might not want to hear this but.. Your parents have a point. You should get to know them better,” Chan speaks cautiously, trying to prepare for whatever reaction you might have. It kills him to say it, not just because he doesn’t want to see you with someone else, but also because he knows you won’t want to hear this from him. He watches you freeze, staring at him in something akin to saddened disbelief.

You feel as if your cracked heart has now completely shattered. If there was any doubt before, now you know. Chan doesn’t love you the way you love him. He wouldn’t be okay with this if he loved you, he wouldn’t want to see you marry someone if he wanted you the way you want him. Your feelings have always been one sided. You swallow, trying not to cry any more than you already have or show how hurt that made you feel. 

“So you agree with them then..” your voice is quiet and defeated. What do you even say..? Should you admit that one of the reasons this is so hard for you is because you’re in love with him? Would that even change anything? You always knew being in love with him was a fool’s endeavor, and now that truth was solidified. 

“It’s not that. You know I don't want you to, it’s just.. I know you’re miserable right now. And the reality is that you’ll have to marry one of them. If you get to know them and grow to love one of them, it’d be better for you. The way things are now, you’ll never be happy, and that's all I want for you.. Just to be happy,” he says, trying his best to show you how earnest he is.

He’s so fucking in love with you, of course he doesn’t want to see you marry someone else, it’s the last thing he ever wants. He doesn’t want to watch you fall in love with one of them, he doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines while you give your love to someone else, but he can’t keep denying the reality before him. Despite how selfish he is, he can’t put himself and what he wants above you.

And putting those selfish desires aside, he just wants you to have a good, happy life, even if that happiness comes from someone else. No matter how badly he wishes he could be the one you spend your forever with, it’s not the life that is meant for him. He has to come to terms with that, now more than ever. He has to, because it'll break him apart if he doesn't. 

You look at him now, and as much as it hurts, you can see the sincerity. Even though it’s not what you wanted to hear, you know how much he cares about you. Even now, he’s looking out for you and trying his best. Maybe he doesn't love you the way you love him, but it is a form of love nonetheless. His actions have never shown you anything different, and even if it’s not the sort of romantic love you want it to be, you should be happy with what you already have with him.

You separate yourself from his gentle hold, standing quickly as you do your best to wipe your tears without ruining your makeup any further. “You’re right. I’ll try,” you say, forcing yourself to find the resolve you desperately need to get this night over with. He smiles at you, albeit strained as he suffers with his own tumultuous emotions, and rises to his feet as well. 

Chan gives you one last gesture of comfort, a gentle squeeze to your hand, before he leads you back to the ballroom where everyone waits for you to return. “Are you ready?” He asks when you are both stopped in front of the doors. You sigh, taking just a small moment before you nod and allow yourself to enter the bustling room. You’re not ready, but it will never get any easier, so you suppose you’ll just have to accept that and get on with it regardless.

You leave Chan standing with your parents, where he can still have you in his line of sight while not intruding upon anything you need to do. You suppose if you’re really going to commit to this, you should go with the obvious choice- Lee Minho. It doesn’t take you long to spot him either; all you had to do was follow the gaze of infatuated maids to see him standing in a bubble with other high society guests your father invited to the event. 

“Sir Minho, are you occupied?” you ask as you step forward to him, the crowd that had gathered around him easily dissipating to allow the princess closer to her suitor. “Of course not, Princess. Would you like to dance?” he smiles politely as he holds out his arm for you, and you accept it, letting him lead you toward the center of the ballroom. 

Another thing you suppose you should do if you’re really going to commit to this is apologize. You doubt anything will genuinely come of it on your part, but it’d be best to not have a marriage start off with bitterness in your heart if it does miraculously develop into something more. Honestly you’d rather scream and kick than offer an apology you don’t entirely mean but.. What other option is there at this point? "Listen, I'm sorry for how cold I've been towards you.. It's not due to any fault of your own, it's just.."

You pause briefly, trying to think of how best to continue that line of dialogue, but Minho speaks up before you can. “It’s just that you are being forced into a marriage you don’t want?" Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you desperately try to find a way to dismiss his accurate assessment. Were you that transparent? 'Of course you were, idiot,' you curse yourself. Maybe you should've practiced subtlety.

"I get it. You aren’t the only one unhappy about this,” he continues, further surprising you. He chuckles at your shocked expression, amusement in his voice. “What, is that hard to believe?” "I.. I guess I just assumed everyone is here because they want to be. It didn’t occur to me that you would be in a similar situation to myself,” you answer truthfully. Maybe you would have realized sooner if you hadn't been so stuck in your ways, so quick to ignore and dismiss every suitor that came close to you. 

“I don’t blame you for thinking that. I’m sure most of the men are here because they want to be. I consider myself an outlier,” Minho speaks nonchalantly, but now that you are really looking at him, you can tell he is just as unhappy to be forced into this as you are. You also get the impression that he’s good at keeping a cool exterior, likely due to years of experience at suppressing his actual desires, the same as you.

“Is there someone else? Someone you love, back at home?” you ask, and Minho smiles sadly as he nods. “There is. They mean the world to me. I asked them to wait for me, I told them I wouldn’t leave them but.. I don’t know what will happen, if I'm being honest.” He tries to mask how upset he is to admit that, but you can see it. Maybe you’d be as oblivious to it as everyone else seemed to be if you weren’t dealing with similar emotions. You feel a strange sort of kinship with him now, realizing how parallel your situations seem to be. “I’ll make sure you can be reunited. I may not have much power as it stands now, but I can do that at least.”

Minho smiles at your reply, but shakes his head, as if your act of kindness would be futile. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it would only be temporary. I’m sure even if I don’t marry you, my father will just send me off to another castle to find a spouse. It’s all he cares about.” You frown, about to speak reassurances or some other comforting statement, but he stops you before you can. “What about you, Princess? Is there someone you love?” Minho asks, easily shifting the focus off of himself. 

You hesitate a moment, debating on whether it would be wise for you to talk about. But, Minho already shared with you even if it could be a risk for him to admit, so.. You decide to be honest. “There is. He.. is the best person I've ever known.” 

“I thought so. Not to sound overconfident, but most women fall at their feet for a chance to speak with me,” Minho smirks and you laugh, the first genuine laugh you’ve had all evening. “Well, you are handsome. I may love someone else, but I’m not blind.” Your reply makes Minho laugh as well, the conversation turning into something you can actually enjoy.

“It’s good to know the Princess isn’t rejecting me for my looks. I can sleep assured about my handsome features tonight,” he jokes, and if you weren’t in public you’d most certainly slap him on the arm. You didn't expect his personality to be what it is, but you suppose that's one of the charms that draws people to him.

“The person you love- do they know how you feel?” He asks after a beat, and you frown, trying not to let too much emotion out as you speak. “I’ve never told him, nor my parents.. I’ve wanted to, but.. I’m scared he won’t return my feelings, and.. He was born a commoner, and people won’t approve of that.” Unconsciously, your gaze shifts away from Minho and turns towards Chan. 

Minho notices, of course, and follows your gaze, seeing the way Chan is overtly staring at the pair of you dancing. Oh, he is in love with you, if the way he’s staring daggers into Minho is any indication. He almost wants to laugh at how oblivious you seem to be about it, but he also sympathizes. He was there once- afraid to confess, afraid of what the reaction would be. And even now he’s still afraid of how his father will react if he ever confesses to his hidden relationship, so he’d be a hypocrite to tell you to not worry about it. 

But at the very least, he can be on your side. He can be a friend, an encouraging presence, a person who understands what you are going through. “I think you should tell him how you feel. Even if things don’t turn out how you hope, at least you tried. I think that’s better than having never tried at all, and living with regrets.” 

Honestly, he hopes you do confess your feeling, because he feels like he might burst into flames any second if your knight keeps staring at him with fire in his eyes. He’s so obvious, Minho isn’t sure how everyone else seems oblivious to it. But maybe he only recognizes that look in his eyes because he was there himself not too long ago, when others made advances on the person he loves most. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you contemplate Minho’s words. What is better? Accepting your fate as it is now and never telling a soul how you feel about Chan, or confessing your feelings and experiencing what it’s like to openly love Chan, only to have it ripped away from you when your family doesn’t approve? You really don’t know.. 

“Hey, if it doesn’t work out, maybe we do get married and act as each other’s cover,” he says jokingly, hoping it can make you feel comforted to some degree once he notices you being trapped in thought about what to do next. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you say with a small laugh, “Though if there is anyone I’d choose to be in a fake marriage with, it’d have to be you.”

Honestly, despite the unorthodox way it came to pass, it felt good to talk about your feelings for Chan. You didn’t have anyone to talk to about them, always keeping them completely to yourself. And you felt like you had a real friendship with Minho blossoming, one that could be maintained for years to come. “I enjoy your company. Platonically, of course,” you say with a smile. 

“As do I, Princess,” he smiles back, “Want to cheer to a good friendship?” “Let’s!” You say enthusiastically, letting your dance come to a close and allowing him to lead you to toast refreshments. 

If there was ever a time in Chan’s life he wishes he could disregard everything he’d ever been taught about rules and decency, it was now. He’s never felt so bitter in his entire life, the first time he’s ever felt spiteful at the unfairness of his situation. 

“Thank you for talking to her, she looks to be enjoying herself much more now,” the queen says with delight as she leans towards Chan, ensuring that he hears her thanks and effectively rubbing salt into his open wound. “..Yes, she does,” Chan says, having to put effort into sounding anything other than gutted. The jealousy sizzling in his veins, envious desire stuck like bile in his throat.

He knows you well enough to know what a genuine smile looks like on you. He recognizes your body language, can see all the minute and subtle changes. It makes him physically ill, watching you be so happy with a man he knows you are likely to marry. Chan knew he was selfish, but he never realized how jealous he was capable of being. 

It was a luxury he didn’t realize he had- never having to see you in the arms of someone else. Sure, it was bound to happen, and he assumed he would be devastated when it inevitably occurred, but this? This all encompassing jealousy, this unadulterated greed- he doesn’t know how to process it, he doesn’t know how to calm himself down or mask it.

A realization zaps him suddenly, shocking his system as the feeling settles over him. He can’t let you go, he can’t put his feelings aside the way he thought he could. He’s not as strong as he thought he was, not as mature or as reasonable as he always thought himself to be. He can’t watch you be with someone else and be okay. If this is how he reacts to a situation so small, how will he feel when you actually marry?  

He’s fucked. Truly, unequivocally fucked.

His body and mind scream at him to act, to do something, do anything, but what is there for him to try? What can he do that isn’t hopeless? No, even if it is hopeless, even if it doesn't change a single thing, he has to regardless. That’s what every nerve in his body screams at him- if there was ever a time for him to conjure his bravery and win you over, it was now.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the night's festivities finally draw to close, eager to finally relax after hours of dancing and talking. Minho made the night more bearable at least; it was much easier to get through the evening when you had a friend to cling to and keep a good deal of your other suitors at bay. As soon as you finished bidding your goodbyes to the guests that were in attendance, you rushed over to Chan so he could finally lead you back to the privacy of your room.

“Princess.. I’m sure you’re tired, but can you wait for me here for a bit..?” Chan asks, hoping the nerves he feels aren't being conveyed in his voice or facial expression. You tilt your head, slightly confused but agreeing anyways. You really have no reason not to after all, especially if it’s a request from Chan of all people. He smiles and thanks you, running off quickly while promising he wouldn’t take too long.

You stand in the center of the ballroom alone, wondering what on earth Chan is having you wait here for. He could also get in trouble for leaving you alone here without anyone to watch over you, but whatever he has planned must be worth the risk he’s taking.. Is he trying to make sure no one is going to come back so that the two of you can dance together?

The thought makes you excited if you're being honest- you always love dancing with Chan, but you hadn't had many opportunities to after he began training to be a knight. And you’d happily do so if he wanted to, even if your feet were screaming at you from exhaustion. You also have to admit, you enjoy the idea that after watching you dance all day, Chan wanted to have one with you too, even if it had to be once the event was over and within privacy. 

You wait as patiently as you possibly can, watching the doors to the ballroom, eagerly waiting for them to open. And when they do, and your eyes fall on Chan entering dressed in what is possibly the most beautiful suit you've ever seen, your heart feels like it's going to burst. "You stayed," he smiles as he steps closer, his dimples on full display. His unruly hair that normally falls over his face has been tamed enough to show his features more clearly, the full extent of his handsome face on display just for you.

“C-Chan, you- I, wow, you look-” You try to speak but you stumble over your words, his beauty leaving you even more speechless when viewed up close. It really is the most beautiful suit you've ever laid eyes on. Or maybe you only think so because he is the one wearing it? Either way, he looks so incredibly handsome that you feel almost dazed, your brain quickly malfunctioning as you stare at him.

Truthfully, he had to save his salary for months to afford a suit this nice. You lived in a world of extravagant gowns and beautiful jewelry, and he wanted to look like he belonged with you, even if it was just this one time. You don't care about aesthetics, he knows that, but it's still something he wanted to do. Looking at him the way you are now, he knows it was all worth it.

He always wanted to belong in your world, to look like someone that a princess could be with. Soon enough, you’ll have to decide which of your suitors to marry, and on that day he will lose you. If this is the last opportunity he has to share a dance with you, then he wants to make the most of it. Even if it's just for this short moment, he'd like you to see him as something more than a friend or knight.

He wants to live in a bubble where it’s just you and him, where he can show you the side of himself he always wanted you to see. A bubble where only the two of you exist, where everything but each other is background noise. His every moment, all he sees is you, and he wants to be the only one you see in turn. No one in your eyes but him, his every word hanging in your ears and gesture embedding in your heart. He will allow himself this final selfish act before he lets you go, before he has to bury his feelings and lock them away for good. He will dance with you not as your best friend, your knight, or your student who is still learning the steps, but as a man in love with his princess. 

“May I have this dance, Princess?” Chan asks, smiling up at you as he bows, holding out his hand to you. You feel like your brain is short circuiting, all dance etiquette and rules leaving your mind as you stare at him. Your face has turned bright pink and your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, but you manage to nod and let your hand reach for his. How will you even survive this dance when he’s smiling at you like that while looking so devastatingly handsome? 

Despite the glaring fact that all your knowledge is lost on you as he holds you closer, he leads you through your daze well. Humming melodies with his beautiful voice while he guides you through the steps- you feel like you’re in a dream. He’s looking at you so intently, smiling so charmingly between melodies, you feel like you’re melting. His eyes are sparkling with an emotion you’ve never seen on him before. 

No, that’s not true. You have seen it. Fleetingly, in quick moments where it would flash on his features, a moment so small you’d miss it if you blinked. Moments like now, where it was just the two of you, free to be yourselves, to talk and laugh and dance with no restriction. Every time you noticed that look in his eyes, his expression would change in an instant, or he’d turn his face away and not let your eyes linger on it. 

Affection? Care? Love? Is that the feeling that shows on his face when he looks at you? Is love the emotion that always makes him smile bashfully before he looks away from you? The one you sometimes catch, but is gone before you can really commit it to your memory? This is the first time you’ve been granted the pleasure of seeing it on his face for more than a few seconds, and it makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

All you can do is stare as he leads you through the dance, the entirety of his being capturing your undivided attention. A shyness bubbles underneath the surface, neither of you used to staring at one another so overtly, but you couldn’t possibly turn your gazes away. You decide that if you did somehow fall asleep at some point and this is a dream, that you’ll enjoy it for all its worth. 

You don’t know how he feels about you, really. At best you can guess, you can hope, but there’s no way for you to truly know. But what you do know is how you feel about him, and that’s enough, you think. It’s enough to make this moment the most special you’ve ever shared. It’s enough to lift up the shattered fragments of your heart and reconstruct them into something beautiful and new. Does he love you as much as you love him? Regardless of the answer, you’ll never forget how you feel right now. A love beyond words, a happiness that transcends everything else. 

Chan, who was feeling confident until now, begins to feel a stutter in his heart. He wanted to impress you, to show you the most ideal side of himself, to make you see him, really see him, in the way he desired to be seen. But now that you are looking at him with such ardor in your eyes, with his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck, he feels like his heart could burst. Was he once again naive to think he could put his feelings to rest after this? Foolish to believe that this moment would be enough for him to part from you satisfied with what little he had? 

Yes, he definitely was. Because the way you look at him now, he knows he can never go back to how things were before. He will want to see it again and again, paired with your sweet smile and cute mannerisms. Again, he realizes he's selfish. He doesn’t want you to look at anyone else this way, to give anyone else your affection, to smile at them the way you do at him. For better or worse, you’ll be there, in every thing he does and in every thought he has. 

Most selfish of all, he wants to kiss you so badly, to claim you as his. He wants to pull you even closer, to feel your warmth against him, to tell you that you are all he ever has, and ever will, see. It’s always been you that lights up his world, always been you that gives fire to his ambitions, always you that makes his heart race and palms clam up. Since he was a child, for as long as he can remember until now, you were his everything. You became his world, everything he does revolving around you, forever drawn to you.

Before he can stop himself, his lips are on yours, connecting with you in the way he’s always dreamed of. There’s no time for him to rationalize his choice or scold himself for giving in to his selfishness. Chan has always been weak when it comes to you, after all. Unconsciously, his hands hold you a bit tighter, though he himself is unsure whether that’s because he’s afraid to let you go or because it just feels right to have you in his grasp while he kisses you.

You blink in surprise, time feeling like it has slowed to a complete stop. You feel like the air has been knocked out of you, your brain desperately trying to catch up with reality and make sense of its own racing thoughts. When Chan pulls back, you can see a panic forming in his eyes, apologies lingering on his lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have, I-” 

You pull him back to you before he can continue to ramble, continuing the kiss he started. He can’t regret this, can’t second guess letting the moment take him over; you won’t let him. You want to be lost with him, enveloped in his embrace and consumed by his touch, damn the consequences. You don’t care who catches you, you don’t care about what punishment either of you could receive; this is all you’ve ever wanted for so, so long. 

And maybe you should care, maybe you should stop him, stop yourself, but you refuse. If pushing him away is right, then you’d rather be wrong. His world may revolve around you, but yours revolves around him just as much. You can’t live without him, can’t bear to be apart from him. You want to stay with him, even if it causes everything else around you to crumble. 

You’re both breathless by the time you separate, his eyes searching over your face desperately for any sign of hesitation, because once he really has you, he’s never letting you go. “Princess, Y/N, I-” He pauses, words lodged in his throat, but his eyes convey everything. You see it, the clearest that you ever have.

“Do you love me?” You ask, watching intently as his face heats up all the way to his ears. “Please tell me. I love you, and I need to hear you say you love me too,” you all but plead, watching him swallow as he tries to conjure the words he wants to say. He kissed you, so he can’t really deny it, but admitting it could make life even more difficult for you. Chan knows you well enough to know you’ll fight against your parents wishes, that you’d abandon your life here if it called for it, but can he let you do that? 

This is the last chance he has to listen to reason and walk away, his last chance to bury his emotions down deep, his last chance to use even just a modicum of self control.. But no, that's not what he wants to do. Selfish, selfish, selfish. That’s all he’s ever been with you, and maybe all he ever will be. Because as much as he logically knows he should let you go, he just can’t. Because the thought of anyone other than him kissing you fills him with dread. Because even if it makes your reality harder, it’s still all he wants. 

All along, his answer has been there. He can’t turn away from you, and you won’t let him. Both of you are stubborn in your wants, both of you pulling to each other like magnets, unable to be drawn apart. That’s what makes you perfect for him, he supposes. You're both a pair of reckless fools, willing to throw everything away for the other person. How can his answer be any different, especially when you’re looking up at him like this? Desperate to hear his answer, desperate to be loved by him and him alone. 

“I love you. I always have, from the very beginning,” Chan confesses, “I know it’s wrong, I know I’m not supposed to love you, and I’ve tried to hold it back but.. I can’t stand watching from the sidelines anymore, I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else. I love you, and I want to be the one who spends his life with you.”

‘I’m not supposed to love you.’ You hate that he had that thought, but you understand why. No matter how close you became, even when he never treated you any differently from anyone else, he wasn’t oblivious to your difference in station. Neither of you ever let your circumstances affect your friendship, but that didn’t mean the difference between you wasn’t still there. 

He recognized long ago that someone of his birth wasn’t meant to be with a princess, and he tried his best not to let his feelings for you show. You understood now too, why he became your knight despite all that it meant. Because he loved you, and that was the only way he could guarantee he would always be beside you. If he couldn't be your husband, that was the next best thing. 

"If there is anyone in this world who deserves to marry me, it's you. It's always been you, I've never wanted anyone else," you say with full sincerity. There’s no one else you would ever pick, no one else you’d ever give your life to. No matter how much time passes, how your life changes and how far apart you may end up, the love you have for your best friend, your knight, will always remain.

He kisses you again, with all his love and affection poured into it. Years worth of repressed feelings bubbling to the surface like a wellspring. His self restraint dissolves, kissing you over and over again as if his life depends on the repetition of the action. He holds you tightly, squeezing you closely to him, in a gesture that is as full of desire as it is love.

You’re both breathless when he finally allows you to separate, lips swollen and red from the continued use. You lost track of time, having no idea how much or how little the minutes have passed. All you know is Chan’s all encompassing presence, and finally knowing the feeling of his lips against yours. You don’t want the night to end here, you realize. You don’t want to return to your room and carry on tomorrow as if this never happened. You don’t want to pretend that you’re not impossibly in love with him, you don’t want to pretend you don’t know how his body feels pressed against yours, or how it feels to have his lips on you.

“Take me to your room, Channie,” you plead, and he swallows, your request making his heart race impossibly fast. The majority of knights live in barracks, but as a royal knight in charge of the princess’ protection, his room lies close to yours, separated only by a few halls. But despite the relatively close proximity, you’ve never actually been to Chan’s room before due to the risk. Even with your friendship being apparent, going directly to his quarters and staying for a prolonged time ran the risk of spreading untoward rumors. 

For royalty, their reputation is of the utmost importance, and while you didn’t care what people said behind your back, it was still something you had to be careful of for the sake of Chan himself. Even if you could easily recover from rumors, Chan wouldn’t be afforded that same luxury- it would undoubtedly follow him everywhere. And this led to him often being in your room, using the pretense of his knighthood to enter your space and have private conversations and talk like friends, the way you did before he became your knight. But that was always during the daytime, and with other knights still standing out in the hall. If those same knights saw him enter your room with you during the night, and not come back out until morning, it would certainly raise suspicions. Really, no matter what the two of you do tonight, there is risk, the probability of consequences you can’t come back from higher than it’s ever been.

“Are you sure..?” He asks, clearly worried about what could happen as a result. He wants to be with you, of course he does, but if it’s found out you stayed with him in his room for an entire night, the consequences wouldn’t be pretty. He needs to know you understand that, needs to know you want to be with him regardless of what could happen afterwards. You nod, resolve clear as you hold his hand tighter.

You were aware of the risks, but your love for him outweighed the concern. If anyone wanted to question you about being away from your room during the night, you had the confidence you needed now to fight for what you want. Now that you know he returns your feelings, you won’t let anyone get in the way of keeping you together, you’ll fight for it with all you have. And besides that, you're a princess. You were raised with the belief that the world was in the palm of your hands, so shouldn't you be allowed to have the things you want?

“I’ve thought about this a million times, Chan, I’m sure,” you tell him. Nothing will deter you from being with him- not anymore. “A million times, huh?” He teases with a smile as he pulls you along with him to exit the ballroom, his playful side coming back out as he leads you out to the hall and in the direction of his room. “Shut up,” you smile shyly as you slap his arm, a blush creeping across your face.

You have to suppress the giggle that threatens to leave you as you wind the halls together, a nostalgic sort of feeling welling in you despite this being the first time you are sneaking to his room like this. You snuck him into so many spaces, always sharing fond moments with him in secrecy, and really this is just an extension of that. The roles may be reversed in this instance, but the way you hold each other's hand and smile at each other is the same. The way you speak in hushed voices, the way you contain your gleeful giggles and the way you look at each other with pure joy, it's all the same.

When you reach his room, he ushers you in the door first, following behind swiftly and locking the door behind himself. “Just a moment,” he speaks softly as he moves carefully past you, lighting the candles he has on his nightstand. You use the dim light to survey your surroundings (as much as is possible, anyways,) taking note of all the things that make his space different from yours. 

Chan watches you with subtle amusement; his room really isn’t anything special, but you’re looking around it as if it’s the most interesting thing you could ever see. (And to be fair, it is a stark contrast from the luxurious space you’re used to living in.) His space, while decently sized, still pales in comparison to the size of your room. His furniture is much less exuberant in style, and bed significantly smaller than your own. But you like it better that way, you think- it feels homey. 

There’s a moment of silence that follows, not necessarily awkward, but rather hesitant as you turn your attention back to Chan. He’s sitting on his bed, looking incredibly handsome even in the dim candle light. Or did that add to it? You aren’t really sure. All you really know is that the way the subtle illumination and shadows frame his face makes your stomach twist. He really is way too handsome for his own good. 

Cautiously, you sit next to him, taking his appearance in more closely (despite the way it makes your heart feel like it’s going to implode.) He looks at you as well, taking you in just as attentively. Now that he can freely gaze at you without restriction, he wants to commit you to his memory. He wants to know your every blemish, every freckle and every line. 

You’re so impossibly beautiful- you could appear to him covered in grime and wearing tattered rags and he’d still think you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Has he ever told you that? No, he doesn’t think he has. Every time he was awed by you, he’d look away before you could notice his blatant stare, never commenting outwardly on how incredible he thought you were. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Chan asks tentatively, eyes full of eager trepidation. It may be beyond his capabilities to tell you how gorgeous you are, but he can show you. You nod, a small "yes" leaving your lips. His hands seek you out first, resting themselves on your waist before he kisses you again. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, one that leaves you full of butterflies. All the romance novels you read couldn't have prepared you for how it actually feels to be in the moment, for how it feels to have his hands holding you firmly as he kisses you. 

You want to move without restriction, you want to feel him closer, want to feel his touch on your bare skin. You separate, Chan watching you curiously as your face heats up in preparation for what you intend to ask. “Help me take off my dress?” “W-What?” Chan stutters, bright red blush traveling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Did he hear you correctly? He’s certainly mistaken, right? “I-I mean, unless you think I should keep it on for the rest of the night..?” 

“N-No, right, of course not,” he says, swallowing as he watches you rise from the bed. He follows, hands trembling as watches you turn your back to him, waiting for him to help you untie your corset. He reaches out slowly, untying it as carefully as he can despite his shaking hands. 

The layers of your dress follow rather quickly after that, eager to get all the extra weight off your body and allow yourself to feel Chan's touch directly. It's not until you're at the final layer that you feel shyness creep back on you, Chan's hand stilling on your shoulders as his own nerves pick up as well. 

When he pulls it down, you'll be strictly in your underwear, the most exposed you've ever been to a man in your entire life. But as much as it makes you shy, it excites you almost equally as much. You turn around now, so that your back is no longer facing him. You cross your arms, placing your hands on top of his, looking up at his face as you guide his hands down your arms, pulling your dress down along with it.

He swallows, eyes following the path your hands lead him on, his face easily the hottest it's ever been in his entire life. You lower your arms once you are no longer able to guide his hands, letting the last piece of fabric fall to the floor around your feet. 

Fuck, he really should be looking at you respectfully, but it feels impossible. You are standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear, and you encouraged it, guided him to remove your clothing with your own hands. God, you're going to ruin him.

"Can I?" You ask as you rest your hands on his chest, the buttons of his suit easily within your reach, ready to undo them the moment he gives his approval. He does so easily, even helping you with the buttons and letting it fall to the floor the same way you did with your dress. 

You watch as he pulls the undershirt over his head, tossing it to the floor with everything else. Your eyes scan his torso, face heating up as you take in his toned physique. You assumed he was strong given his status, but you've never actually seen the proof of it until now. You'd be embarrassed for blatantly staring if not for the fact that he'd done the same to you just moments ago. It's only fair to stare at him as much as he stares at you- tit for tat, if you will. 

Chan's hands reach for his pants now, but he stops before he proceeds with removing them, looking at you as if to ask if it's okay with you before he does. Well, if the eager glint in your eye is anything to go by, you certainly want him to. He pulls them down easily after gaining your approval, kicking them off the rest of the way, (perhaps a bit unceremoniously, given the unprecedented circumstances,) not worrying at all about where they land.

You look at each other, an electric tension filling the space between you. The juxtaposition between the bashfulness and the desire leaving you temporarily stuck in place, a silent battle being waged between ‘should I act, or shouldn’t I?’

It’s typical for the man to make the first move in situations like this, isn’t it? But since when have you adhered to the stereotypical things that were expected of you? You hesitated before now out of fear- fear of what could happen to Chan and fear of your feelings being unrequited, but the minute he laid his feelings out for you, you decided there was no more time for fear, no time for hesitation. 

When you want something, you get it, and what you want right now more than anything is Chan, simple as that. You lay back on his bed now as if you own it, looking so relaxed, so assured, as you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for him to return to your side. Fuck, do you even know what you're doing to him?

He slots himself between your legs, his body weight pressing down on you when he lowers himself to kiss you again. Your torso falls back against the bed when you lift your arms to hold his face in your hands, not letting the kiss break and dragging him back with you. His hands travel up and down your sides, always stopping just under the line of the fabric containing your breasts. 

He pulls away from your lips, looking at you closely as he lets his thumbs under the fabric ever so slightly. He’s silently asking for permission again, you realize, searching your eyes for any semblance of hesitation or regret. There’s none to be found, of course- all you feel is desire, is love. You want this as badly as he does, undeniably so. 

He pulls it up slowly, carefully, and you lift your back off the bed, allowing him to take it off you completely. You watch him swallow as he stares down at you, taking in the unfamiliar sight of your exposed chest. He’ll never admit how many times he envisioned this moment in his mind, but the reality is much better than anything his mind could have conjured up. 

When Chan finally tears his eyes away to look at your face again, you offer him a smile, one that makes his heart stutter. It’s soft, yet completely radiant, and patient. There’s no need for you to rush him along, nor do you judge him for taking his time to look you over. When it’s something special, something you’ve both wanted for so long, with more intensity than you can express, why would you rush? It should be savored, with even the smallest of details committed to memory. 

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you for what feels like the millionth time. His hands cup your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms for the first time, squeezing (gently, of course,) every so often. When the calloused pads of his thumbs rub over your nipples for the first time, and you let out the most sinfully sweet noise he’s ever heard, he’s done for. 

He wants- no, needs, to hear it again. Again, and again, and again, all for him, only ever for him. The small, soft gasps, the shuddering breaths, the shiver that runs along the entirety of your body when he touches you- it’s addictive, so terribly addictive. “Channie-” you whine into his mouth, and he has to suppress the groan that threatens to leave his throat in response.

“Again,” he says as he begins to trail kisses beneath your ear and down the expanse of your neck, “Say my name again.” You oblige his request easily, each small whine turning into a soft moan of his name. Your voice, so dovelike, its sweetness all encompassing, commandeering all his senses. His hands travel lower, rubbing over the plush territory of your thighs, his fingers always coming dangerously close to your center before being taken away.  

He chuckles when you huff, a small pout on your lips that he finds adorable. He doesn’t mean to tease, but he has to admit he likes the reaction it grants him. “What’s wrong, darling? I didn’t think you were so impatient,” Chan says with an amused tilt in his voice, because at the end of the day, beneath all the shyness and desire that was at the forefront, he is still the playful person he’s always been. 

“Don’t be mean, Channie,” you all but grumble, your pout growing larger. It’s not like you’re trying to rush anything, it’s just.. He knows what he's doing, and he’s doing it on purpose! Making you all needy for his touch, being so close to where you want him but not actually granting it to you. 

He smiles, that dazzling one that makes your stomach twist, confirming that he does indeed know he’s tormenting you on purpose. “Apologies, my love. You’re just so cute when you pout.” You would definitely punch him if the statement didn’t make butterflies erupt in your gut. “Chan, please,” you shamelessly whine, and oh, how that instantly turns the tables back in your favor.

He’ll do anything for you, whatever you ask, everything he can offer, it’s yours. You realize that, don’t you? That even if he teases, even if he pretends he’s fine and not completely and utterly enamored by you, he can never actually resist you. “Tell me what you want, Princess. Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything.” 

“I-I-” you start, but quickly stumble over your words. The way he’s looking at you, waiting with bated breath for your answer, eyes eager and so willing to give you his all- it sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow, willing your racing heart to calm so you can speak properly. “I want.. To feel you. Inside me.”

Chan’s breath catches in his throat, cock twitching unceremoniously in response. He wants to, it’d be pointless to pretend he doesn’t, but.. “Are- are you sure?” he asks, the question laced with genuine care despite how eager he is for you to say yes. He wants to care for you, wants to make love to you, to claim you as his in the sweetest of ways, but he doesn’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for. 

Even if your confessions were a long time coming, even though there was years worth of yearning and desire, it’s still a lot to entrust yourself to someone like that. To trust them wholeheartedly, to grant them such pleasure and believe that they’ll take care of you in return. And he needs to know that you understand the risks and the changes it will bring, and you aren’t saying it out of some spur of the moment obligation to please him. Because he’ll be happy, no matter how long he has to wait.

“Channie,” you place your hands on his face, forcing his eyes to stay locked on your own, “I love you so much. I want to do this with you.” You can feel his face heat up under your fingers, but he smiles- one that is shy, but at the same time full of unfiltered joy. Chan leans down to kiss you once more, showing you all the love and care that he can’t express with his words. 

His hands resume their original path, tracing up and down your thighs for a few moments before he finally hooks his fingers into your underwear. He pulls them down slowly, not with the intent to tease you this time, but because he knows when he finally sees what is waiting for him underneath the fabric his heart is going to beat out of his chest. 

You adjust your legs position to make the removal easier, watching Chan with nervous excitement. It is scary, you admit, being so exposed and vulnerable in front of someone else, but there is no one else in the world you trust more. No one but Chan makes you feel this safe and secure, and he’s shown you over and over how much love he carries for you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he admits for the first time aloud. Would it be cliche to compare you to a goddess? Maybe, but that’s the only thing that comes even remotely close to conveying how alluring he thinks you are. More radiant than even Aphrodite herself, with even the wonders of the world paling in comparison to you. “Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

You watch him bring his hands to his own underwear, slipping them off with relative ease before settling himself comfortably between your legs. “I need to get you ready, okay darling? And then I promise, I’ll give you everything you want,” Chan speaks softly and you nod, entrusting yourself to him completely. 

He’s never done this before, so he follows his instinct, doing whatever feels right in the moment. His fingers rub carefully between your folds, spreading around the wetness that accumulated there. Your breathing halts when the pads of his fingers press against your hole, body tingling with overwhelming desire. Slowly, carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside.

The sensation is unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant- in fact, the back and forth motion of his finger as it slides in and out quickly begins to draw soft whimpers from your lips. Soon enough, he’s adding a second finger, watching how they disappear in you with an almost mystified gaze. He can’t believe how snug you feel around his fingers, how wet and warm and fuck, he can’t even begin to imagine how good it’s going to feel around his cock. 

“Ah-!” you gasp loudly when, after some exploration, his fingers find a bundle of nerves that makes every nerve in your body erupt in pleasure. Your head falls back against his pillows, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the slew of loud noises that threaten to leave you everytime he rubs over it again. 

His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace now, not too fast as to overwhelm you, but enough to have stars constantly erupting in your vision. Your hands tightly grip the sheets beneath you, legs trembling and knot tightening in your gut unbelievably fast. Chan’s name leaves your mouth over and over between breaths and whines, like a looped mantra, the salacious melody you create music to his ears.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud whimpers and moans that rip through you as you come undone on Chan’s fingers. Would it be sacrilegious to call your noises heavenly when the reason for them is so sinful? He wishes more than anything he could hear them unfiltered, to allow them to flow freely from your lips without a care in the world about the volume and who could hear them. 

He slowly stills his fingers as you come down from your high, taking in the sight of you and memorizing every detail. The rise and fall of your chest as you catch your breath, the rosy tint of your cheeks, the beads of sweat that linger on your brow, all coming together to create an ethereal image. 

Chan plants soft kisses on your face as he gently slides his fingers out of you, complimenting you on how pretty you sound and beautiful you look. "Channie-" you start, and he smiles, knowing exactly what you intend to whine about. "Don't worry, my love. I'll keep my promise."

He takes his fingers, still wet with your release, and rubs them up and down his length, mixing his pre-cum with it along the way. As you watch you realize that his cock is much bigger than his fingers, and you wonder how it'll fit when just two fingers alone already felt like so much. 

“Are you ready?” Chan checks in with you when he’s lined up with your entrance, ready to stop at a moment's notice if you decide this is too much too soon. He can see the subtle worry beneath the anticipation, notices the way you unconsciously hold your breath when he presses against you. It's true, you are nervous, but not enough so to make you change your mind. So you nod, and he moves one of his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. 

“Squeeze if you need to, okay? I'll go slow,” Chan assures you, placing a soft kiss on your temple before he begins. There’s a sharp intake of breath from you when he slowly begins to push inside, the sting being much more intense than you had anticipated. It goes beyond the discomfort you expected, eyes squeezing shut and your grip on his hand tightening. 

The minute Chan feels you squeeze his hand tighter, he pauses just as promised. You open your eyes after a moment, looking up at Chan to try and push the sting to the back of your mind. He's breathing heavily, brows knit together in a combination of pleasure and concern, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. It takes all his self control to not get lost in the sensation around him, needing to make sure he takes care of you properly. He can't hurt you, can't lose himself before making sure you'll feel good too, needs to put you above all else. 

"Do you need me to stop?" he asks, and you quickly shake your head no, expressing again how much you want to be connected with him in every way possible. Leaning down now, he kisses you until the discomfort subsides, whispering sweet words to you when he resumes the push, praising you over and over again until he's completely within you. 

You're still squeezing his hand, not due to any pain or discomfort this time, but to ground yourself through the overwhelming sensation of Chan being deep inside you. He continues kissing you softly, going above and beyond to ensure that you're relaxed and comfortable. "Love you so much Channie," you tell him, and he smiles sweetly, heart so full of adoration and infatuation for you. 

“Love you more,” he kisses you, ”so much,” another kiss, “never letting you go.” You giggle softly between his kisses, his words making your heart flutter. After graciously accepting a bit more of his doting, you soon notice that no trace of the initial sting or discomfort remains. In fact, being so full of him feels good, your body unconsciously seeking friction. 

“Channie, I’m ready now, want you to move, please,” you beg with such a soft and cute voice, he knows there is no way he can resist. Well, not that he would ever deny you what you want in the first place. With one last kiss, and reassuring squeeze to your hand, he finally allows himself to move. 

Slowly, as gently as he can, he pulls out, pressing back inside in one fluid motion when only the tip remains, repeating the action through shaky breaths and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Even with the languid pace, it's enough to drive him insane. Every detail of you, from the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel wrapped around him, so snug and warm and inviting- it’s intoxicating. 

Chan’s arms reach beneath you, hooking under your back and hands holding your shoulders, keeping your body closely pressed against his own. His face is buried in your neck, low groans beneath your ear, for you and you alone to hear. You make your own effort to keep him close as well; one hand tangling in his curly hair and the other tightly gripping his bicep.

He’s going slow, not just for your sake, but for his own. Because if he doesn’t he’s going to blow, because he wants to live in this moment for as long as he possibly can, because being close to you like this is everything he’s ever dreamed of. You’re his, finally his, and he wants it to last, wants to indulge in the feeling and the emotion of being your chosen lover. 

It takes him a few tries to find the spot that makes you see stars with just his cock, but he knows he’s found it when you (unwittingly) let out a loud moan, nails digging into his skin and eyes rolling back. He picks up his pace now, chasing the sound of your pleasure-filled voice, wanting to hear you call his name over and over again.

He kisses you again when your combined noises begin to grow in pitch, muffling one another in a desperate attempt to keep the sounds of pleasure confined to the 4 walls of Chan’s room. You want to be quiet, you know you should be, but you truly can’t help it. But if he’s being honest, he likes that you can’t keep your voice down, likes that he’s making you feel so good that you can’t suppress it.

Chan is getting close now, and he pulls himself away from your lips, wanting to look at you once more before his approaching orgasm overtakes him. Even now, when you're breathless, cheeks red and hair sticking to your forehead due to the sweat, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. "Wanna cum in you,” he manages to say between his low moans, “will you let me, please? Need to fill you up, need to make you mine forever, just like I'm yours."

Once again, your stomach flips, the words having an immense effect on you. "Y-Yes, yes, cum in me, I'm yours, only yours," you answer easily, wanting nothing more than to feel (and watch) him come apart because of you. His pace stutters following your permission, thrusts growing quick and sloppy as he chases his high, groans turning into drawn out whines. 

The faster pace sends you reeling, toes curling has the knot in your stomach tightens and snaps in quick succession. You pull Chan back down to you, kissing him deeply as you cum around his cock, both to muffle yourself and as a gesture of the all consuming love you feel for him. He lets out soft, desperate whimpers as he releases inside you, ropes of cum painting your walls white.

You both stay like that for a few moments- breathlessly wrapped in one another's embrace, sharing soft kisses as you come down from your highs, soft admissions of love leaving your lips. You wince when Chan’s softening length pulls out of you, feeling extremely sensitive following the loss of your virginity. 

Chan blows out the candles before he lays down next to you, leaving the moonlight coming through his window as the only illumination. He intended to pull you close to him, but he didn't have to- you snuggle up to him the moment you can, laying your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his torso, legs tangling with his.

His racing heartbeat begins to slow, an extreme relaxation sweeping over his body. He closes his eyes, your soft breathing serving as his own personal lullaby. Carefully, he reaches his free arm out for his blanket, pulling it over to cover your nude bodies. He’s nearly asleep when he hears you softly call his name, voice quiet but still loud and clear in his ears. “What is it, darling?” he asks as he opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at you.

There’s a moment of silence that follows as you consider how best to voice what you want to say, but Chan is patient, looking at you with a soft gaze. “Do you.. Think we can really get married?” You finally ask, and Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest when you do. He can hear the tremble in your voice so clearly, feels the way you hold him tighter as you wait for him to answer.

If he’s being truthful, he doesn’t know. It’s what he wants, what he hopes for more than words can express, but just doesn’t know. And it breaks his heart to see you like this- clearly vulnerable and unsure. You’ve always sought out Chan for comfort, but it’s different this time. Different because you now know the depths of love you both share, the desire to always be together and the fear that you’ll be driven apart.

You’ll fight for your love, of course you will, because there is no happiness to be had if Chan isn’t by your side. But you don’t want to have to fight for it, you don’t want either of you to suffer, you don’t want Chan to be driven away from you by people who don’t understand and don’t value him for who he is. You want your love to be accepted, to openly profess your love, to marry the only person you’ve ever had eyes for.

Tears are welling in your eyes, and he can see them even in the dim moonlight. “Y/N..” he uses his free arm to reach for your face, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall with his thumb. “I’m going to marry you. No matter what I have to do, I will,” Chan tells you, voice gentle but resolute. He meant it when he said he’s never letting you go, meant it when he said he’ll always be yours and always be beside you.

He doesn’t know what the future holds- if things will come easy for you both, or if you’ll have to fight tooth and nail just to be with each other. But he knows that no matter what the answer is, he will be with you. Whether in your toughest moments or happiest, he’ll be there. Holding your hand, giving you his love, sticking with you until the end of his days.

Whether it’s tomorrow, months, or even years from now, he’ll be your husband. You’ll be the one he shares his life with, the one he starts a family with, the one he sees every morning and every night. He’ll hold you close, starting your days with ‘I love you’s’ and ending them with the same, giving you all he has to give. 

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together, okay? I love you so much,” Chan says and you nod, a soft smile on your face as you wipe your eyes and lay your head back down against him. “Love you, Channie.” He kisses your head softly, urging you to relax, to fall asleep, and not worry about what could be, but indulge in what is.

Indulge in the love you share, the feeling of closeness as you lie together in his bed, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and his gentle reassurances. He’ll still be here when you wake up, will keep you in his arms, holding you close and making sure you know how much he adores you, how much he loves you. Because no matter what the future brings, you still have this moment. You still have each other.

and that's all for this one shot ! i hope you enjoyed it :) i couldn't decide which ending would be best out of the ones i had ideas for, so i decided to leave it more open ended. i personally want them to live happily ever after following this, but you can leave it up to your imagination!

if there's interest i might make a part two that explores one of the endings i had in mind (most likely the angsty one if i'm being honest because it'd be much longer than a purely happy ending) so lmk if you'd like to read that and i'll work on it!

i'd also like to say, this was originally not the chan story in my drafts i was going to post first but i got really inspired during the writing and ended up finishing it before the other one, so expect yet another chan x reader in (possibly) the near future :')

and lastly, i once again want to say thank you so much for all the sweet things you've all said about my writing so far !! i didn't expect to get such kind feedback and i appreciate it sm <3

[wxnheart]

Heya!

I don't know if you take requests, so I am sorry in advance if you don't.

Anywho! What if COD men (and women because im a MASSIVE simp for Valeria) comforted reader when they were having a "shutdown" or experienced something traumatic? Or a nonverbal reader with them.

Feel free to ignore! - 🐏

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: so I thought this would be a two-parter but I guess not! hope you all enjoy it!

Valeria - She isn't the most... comforting person. At all, really, but she does recognize when you're in dire need of a pick-me-up. She'll comfort you, alright. Her words are brusque and there's a steel edge to them, but it usually hits the mark. The type to wrap an arm around your shoulders more than she would give you a full-blown hug.

König - He's got the spirit, really he does, even if he's freaking the fuck out internally over your current state. Honestly, he'll stand there awkwardly, silently debating his next course of action. Essentially, what this boils down to is König ultimately electing to act purely on instinct and envelop you into the tightest hug. To his dismay, you don't readily return it but when you do, when he feels you press against him and wrap your arms languidly around his waist does König rejoice. Yeah, you two are gonna be okay, Schatz...

John Price - Price, funnily enough, won't seek you out. He knows all too well that look in your eye and the way you're moving. Or not moving. He's the type who'll give you space to process what happened. "You know where I am." And you do. You absolutely do. And Price immediately finds his arms full.

Rudy - Tries to get you out of your shell with one of his awkwardly humorous quips. To no avail. At least, that's what he thinks. You won't even spare him a glance. He finally says something and it's enough to make you shoot him one of your famous (or infamous?) death glares. Seeing as this is Rudy, he flashes you a smile (a surprisingly soft smile, might I add). "Finally got you to look at me, eh?" Oh, Rudy. You recognize his efforts with a less deadly stare and a small smile of your own.

Alejandro - He could give you a speech, the same thing he does to his men. But he won't. He doesn't. However, he does make you do an activity that is self-soothing to you. For him, it's punching on his punching bag. He recommends you try that out sometime. Alejandro won't make you talk about it if you don't want to, only when you're ready. He knows firsthand what it's like to internalize things. Interestingly enough, the same wisdom he imparts unto you is the same wisdom Rudy gave to him.

Gaz - Gaz is the type to keep a private comfortable space for himself when he needs to de-stress or simply be to himself. He told you about it before. And so, feeling incredibly under the weather (biggest fucking understatement of the year), you find him there and he gestures for you to sit down. And so you do. You sit there and bask in the ambiance and his presence while he works. It may not seem like much but it's more than enough for you. He may not think himself a soothing presence, but he most definitely is.

Ghost and Soap - They're a package deal when it comes to your comfort, love. Mostly because Ghost is... Ghost and Soap would rather you smile more often than not. They balance each other out, honestly. Johnny wants so badly to hold you but respects your need for space. And so they'll both sit there with you in silence. That is until Johnny makes some quip that makes you laugh and Ghost roll his eyes and grunt.

Phillip Graves - Lmao. Asshole.

[that-one-loz-nerd]

I've been having Thoughts about Zelda being your companion in totk and mourning the fact it never happened so here's my thoughts on how Zelda would work as a companion (and if anyone else has any ideas feel free to add!!)

General

Zelda would follow you around similar to the spirits in totk but less annoying since there's not 4 of her

She'd keep the same pace as Link - if he's walking, she'll walk and if he's running, she'll run

She might occasionally point things out in the environment like "maybe we should go explore there" or "that looks interesting!" but not super often so it isn't too annoying

I think it would be cool if Zelda also had a sheikah slate but maybe one that's just for taking pictures since she seems like she'd be more interested in using it for research rather than for combat like Link

When you're idle she might wander off a bit and go look at stuff (maybe there could be animations of her taking photos with the slate, looking at a ruin etc)

When you start the game you'll automatically have the white horse from botw in the stable. There could be some dialogue about Zelda saying she's happy he's being taken care of and she's fine with Link riding him

Any horses you've got in the stable can either be assigned to you or Zelda. She'll only ride her horse if you ride yours so she can keep pace with you

When you whistle to call a nearby horse both horses will come regardless of which one was close to you

When you go directly up to Zelda there would be four button options: Stay here!, Forage, Talk and Camera

Stay here!: just what it says on the tin. If she's told to stay here and an enemy attack she'll automatically start fighting unless she doesn't have a weapon then she'll hide or run to you if she's close enough

Forage: Zelda will walk around the nearby area and collect any fruit, herbs, etc. and anything she collects will automatically go into your inventory. If there's nothing nearby to forage she'll tell you

Talk: She'll say something to do with the currently pinned quest or surrounding area

Camera: Zelda will randomly take photos of pretty areas, interesting things, landmarks etc and the camera option lets you see all her photos :)

Combat

Okay so it would be super cool if in an early game cutscene Zelda thanks Link again for teaching her some basic combat just to explain why she's suddenly good with a sword lol

In your weapon inventory you can press one button to assign yourself/Link a weapon and another button to assign a weapon to Zelda

She wouldn't be as good as the player at doing damage (just so she wouldn't be too op) but as the game goes on she'd become more involved in combat as she becomes more confident

It would be cool if by assigning her swords all the time she'd start doing more damage with them but then if you switched her to a spear she'd be back at base damage like she's having to learn how to properly use a new weapon

Maybe there could be a God of War-esque thing where she would shout to you if an enemy's behind you or about to attack (but definitely not as often cause that would be annoying)

I presume zelda still has her light powers from botw so maybe that could be implemented somehow like she could temporarily blind enemies or light up a room

OHHHH what if there was a mirror shield mechanic (like in totk but way less janky) with her light powers too but you can also set enemies on fire with it lmao

Health

Zelda would have set health and can lose it in battle or by taking damage from the environment (walking through fire, being too cold etc)

If she takes a bit of damage she might start walking a bit slower and won't be as helpful in combat, doing less damage and becoming less confident at fighting

She would also have some idle animations like a slight limp or holding her side or something

When she takes enough damage then she'll fall to the floor (sort of like ashley in re4 but less dramatic) and won't move unless she's healed

To heal Zelda you just have to press on any food (raw or cooked) and press the "give to Zelda" button to heal her

In the inventory menu there might be a smaller health bar below yours which shows Zelda's health

Clothing

Zelda is 100% not just staying in her royal outfit the whole time lol

That outfit is her default but you can change it

Each outfit in the game has a version for Zelda so all you have to do is assign one to her

You and Zelda can wear the same outfit at the same time so you don't have to buy two of the same armour each time

She's susceptible to the elements the same as you so she has to wear warm clothing in cold weather etc

It would be so cute if in the inventory she stands behind Link so you can see her trying on outfits, swinging a weapon around and maybe an eating animation too

[dailydegurechaff]

I wanted to know how do you interpret Tanya's gender. After reading chapter 58 of the manga i got the impression that she is definitely trans coded, but maybe thats just me

Very good question.

To be honest, when I think too hard about Tanya’s gender (and sexuality, for that matter) it gives me brain worms. Fun brain worms, but brain worms nonetheless. I can’t explain it. Everything she’s got going on is complicated as shit there’s way too much to think about.

Like, she was a man, but now she's a girl. But at some points she says she still sees herself as a man internally so is this MtFtM? How does that work. And if she accepts she's a woman now, is that just MtF or do we add more letters. More importantly: Was Being X being Transphobic or being the Greatest Trans Ally of All Time with the free divinely issued sex change.

Ok ok, jokes aside. Confession: I actually do not keep up with the manga, so I had to go find the chapter and read it first. Having read it now though, I see what you mean.

The conversation she has with the Salaryman/herself in that chapter really does read as essentially saying “I’ve accepted who I am now.” It’s a far cry from a much earlier part of the manga I remember where she has a breakdown about being a man/people seeing her as a girl.

A friend of mine was actually showing me stuff from more recent chapters of the manga (don’t know which chapter tragically, but I know it’s not currently translated to English) and from what I gathered of it, Being X was showing Tanya a dream of being back in her past life and in response she basically demanded to go back to being Tanya immediately. It is definitely not just you, I 100% see the trans-coding you’re talking about.

As for my personal interpretation of her gender, I touched very briefly on it once before, but I honestly think she wouldn’t want to label herself as anything. At first, this is out of hesitance and not wanting to acknowledge that anything might be ““wrong”” or ““different”” about her. Later on it turns into character growth, more along the lines of, “I don’t need the label to define me, I just am what I am/like what I like. I don’t care about it any more than that.” Yes this is 100% projection on my part. No, I won’t apologize for it lmao.

Of course, that's entirely my own headcanon. I definitely am not saying it’s the only way to interpret her, it’s just my personal thoughts. Especially since my opinion is subject to change on a dime depending on what I’m reading/working on myself. The Tanya gender is, in fact, transient, shifting like water.

Like. A transfem Tanya fic that focuses on her adapting to life in her new world and coming to discover she doesn’t actually hate her new body? I’d totally read that. I’ve seen a few fics that include that as a part of the narrative and those scenes of acceptance were among my favorite parts.

I get the feeling this is the route that the manga is going as well. It’s a bit of a shame that we don't have those aforementioned scenes in the light novel (or at least, I don't remember them), but I don’t think that Carlo Zen really intended that to be the focus/narrative in the first place. And honestly, I also think that’s a good thing because it allows for so much more room for interpretation and headcanon around Tanya’s character.

Anyway, the other direction is also compelling to me. A transmasc Tanya fic where, after feeling uncomfortable and hating how feminine he looks for years and years, he finally goes ‘Fuck this, I’m gonna go back to being a man’? I would read the fuck out of that too.

Could also be paired with him finally choosing to defect, where they think about it like, ‘Well there’s nothing to hold me back now, right? I don’t have to maintain appearances anymore. Also, since I’m defecting this would be a great way to hide myself. They’d all be looking for the wrong person. Two birds with one stone, how efficient.’ …Now we’re getting to fic ideas I won’t ever get to so it’s time to move on I think.

Semi-related to the Trans Tanya Concept, this actually brings me to a bit of a lore/headcanon/idea/question I want to present to the public for opinions. In Norden, during the inciting battle of the war, Tanya uses magic to “dope up” so she could enhance her strength and reaction time and kill pain. I took this to mean she used a formula to synthesize the narcotics/adrenaline hormone/whatever else directly into herself, right?

Can you see where I’m going with this? As long as you know which hormones to make, how they’re made up, and what quantities you need… Well, don’t you think magic HRT is completely possible? Of course, as I'm not sure it makes sense for Salaryman to have known the detailed specifics about it from the modern world, it would require a lot of in-universe research/science advancement for someone to actually do that, but theoretically...

The magic system in this universe has so much potential to be explored, I’m fascinated by what you can theoretically do with it. Although, this is long and off-topic already I think this should be the end, lol.

I think I talked too much? I’m sorry, you were probably not expecting such an answer. I told you, Tanya gives me brain worms (mental illness).

I guess the TL;DR is this: that kid definitely ain’t cishet.

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (part 4)

(the scenes in this is what inspired the series so ig technically could be read as a stand alone and still make sense but the previous chapters obviously add context lol) Part 4 to - Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n fun fact there are two alternate versions of part 4 in my drafts, if anyone wants a bonus scene of Billy and Stu having a full conversation with Gloria, and/or a short scene of Y/n and Gloria getting ready together (which shows. a little bit more of their dynamic) it’s basically done and would only need a little bit of editing lol

also!! thinking about doing a lil billy & stu blurb night or sleepover thing,, any thoughts on that lol (prob saturday afternoon, when i’ll be tipsy 😭,, tipsy writing is fun) 

my favorite thing about this chapter is how they’re all cute for 3 minutes and then get violently toxic 😭 duality ig?? 

Warning: i broke and put the first touch of smut into this 😭 everything before the switch in POV is pretty PG (very toxic vibes tho!!), so if you don’t want to read anything sexual just skip over the part at the end that’s in narrator’s POV!! (pls be nice, writing smut scares me, i’ve had very few sexual experiences and have enjoyed none of them lmao)

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Chapter Summary: Due to a family emergency, Y/n is left home alone for the first time since what happened to Casey. Luckily, her good friends Billy and Stu show up to surprise her just as she’s starting to feel paranoid. 

---- 

You’d think that someone that grew up with one parent would be used to being alone, but I have very few memories of total solitude. The few times my mom hasn’t been around, there’s always been someone.

Tonight, though, it’s just me. And I’m not alone in my childhood home--I’m alone in Wells’ house. My mom says that I don’t need to think too much about the fact that we moved into his family’s home, but sometimes I still feel like a stranger here. A guest.

Ugh, I shake the thought off with a roll of my shoulders. I’m freaking myself out for no reason, and I promised my mom I’d be fine.

She didn’t want to leave me, and I can’t blame her for her hesitance, but a family emergency is a family emergency.

I would have gone with her in a heartbeat, but I had the SAT this morning. My mom offered to have Wells stay behind, but honestly, the thought of being alone with her boyfriend for days made me more uncomfortable than the thought of being alone. At least it did at the time. But now that it’s dark out, I’m starting to think it might have been a bad idea to send away the trained police officer. 

I could always call Sidney or Tatum. My mom said I could have people over, or maybe even sleepover at someone’s house. She actually wanted me to stay with a friend, but after my last sleepover, the thought of spending the night at someone’s house turns my stomach. 

Now I’m alone, and it’s almost 9:00, and I’m really upset that most of my comfort movies are horror. The last thing I need is to make myself more para--

The sound of the home phone ringing snaps me out of my thoughts. It could be my mom, but we had just talked. She called me right before I got into the shower to give me an update. I guess it wouldn’t be that weird for her to call me again. She’s nervous about leaving me alone. 

“Hi?” 

There are no words, just soft breathing. “Hey, squirt.” 

Nerves and embarrassing excitement roll in my stomach. I’m so shocked I almost forget that I’m on the phone and I need to reply. “H-hi, dad.” I sit up a little straighter. “It’s you, you’re calling.” 

“Yep,” he breathes, popping the ‘p’ and breezing past my awkwardness, “Just checking in. I just heard what happened. Your mom called, but I’m in Europe on business, and because of the timezone difference it went to voicemail. My secretary somehow missed it. I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner, are you okay?” 

My lips part, a strange amount of emotions twisting in my stomach, “I uh--I’m doing better. I wasn’t the one that was really hurt.” The thought of Casey strikes me in the chest. I cross my legs beneath me. “I-um--I missed some school because I had a concussion. A friend of mine had to convince me to go to the doctor, actually.” 

He laughs lightly, “That sounds like you.” After a second, he continues, “You still want to do the whole Princeton thing?” 

“Yeah, I-I’d like to. I’m trying to. Even took the SAT for the first time today.” 

I can hear him shuffling. “Wow, squirt, the S-A-T,” he hums each letter, “You and Charlotte are really growing up.” 

When I was at that age where kids are obsessed with princesses, I used to imagine that Charlotte was my evil step sister. She was the perfect girl in front of our parents, but there was something about the way she treated me that I couldn’t support. Her and her mother, Alice, always made it clear that my mother and I weren’t the real members of the family. 

My mom was more open about my step sister than I was, and I can imagine how hard that was. She waited around for my dad for years, and he didn’t get his life together until grandfather told him to. She stood by him through addiction and through scandal, but once grandfather said dad had to grow up, he listened. He went to Princeton for undergrad and Yale for his masters and he married the woman Grandfather set him up with.

My dad’s only defense is that my mom sent him away. What he never seems to mention is that my mom’s breaking point was him leaving me alone at some dealer’s house when I was a baby. 

“Charlotte,” I repeat, trying to hide the way the name stings, “How is she?”  

“Oh, she’s good, she just heard back from Princeton because of their rolling admission policy, she’s in.” 

Oh. Charlotte is one year older than me, so I knew that it was possible that I’d have to hear about her getting into dream schools soon. What I didn’t expect was to hear that she got into Princeton, and I didn’t expect it now. “That’s really great, dad.” 

“Yeah, she’ll get the lay of the land, and once you’re in, she’ll be able to show you around.” 

“Yeah,” I mumble, “That’d be nice.” 

Another voice steals my dad’s attention. Likely his secretary. “Hey, squirt, I gotta go. Meeting.” 

“Oh, y-yeah, dad. Talk to you later.” 

“Yes, I’ll make sure to call soon.” He pauses before tacking on, “Oh, I sent you a get well soon present this morning. It might take a few days, but I hope you like it.” 

My nails dig into the palm of my hand, “Oh, thanks, dad. Bye.” 

With that the line goes flat. I place the phone back on my bedside table before grabbing a pillow that’s by my side. Settling the pillow onto my lap, I drop my face into it. “Ugh.” The groan is strangled and dramatic, but I don’t care. 

I cannot wait to call my mom and tell her about how little miss perfect Charlotte is going to Princeton. Princeton is mine, it’s been mine my entire life. There’s a freaking poster of it in my room.

“You’re in a good mood.” 

The words make me jump out of my skin. In a second, i’m on my feet, my hands reaching for the first thing I can find. It happens to be my bedside lamp. I blink, eyes wide as my head snaps towards my window. There’s a large figure sitting on the window sill. 

“Billy! Stu!” Adrenaline is still running through me. “I could--I could have hurt you guys!” 

Billy leans against my window’s frame comfortably, lips turning upwards. “With your fuzzy lamp?” 

“Do not make fun of me.” 

“He’s not,” Stu says, “You’re super threatening. I’m shaking so much I might fall off this ledge.”

I roll my eyes, shifting awkwardly. It’s not like Stu and I haven’t talked since my little blow up in the hallway, but things haven’t been the same. I don’t know if he’s waiting for something from me or if most of it is in my head because I feel a little bad. I never thought I’d miss Stu regularly jokingly hitting on me, but I think I’m starting to.

“Haha,” I mumble after a second too long of silence. Because I need an excuse to not look at them, I turn to set my lamp back down. “What are you guys doing here anyway?” 

Billy shrugs, twisting to place his feet on the floor of my room. “Stu talked me into renting The Craft.” He stands, giving Stu the space he needs to also come into my room. “It made us think of you.” 

“You two watched The Craft?” 

“We got halfway through,” Stu admits, reaching into the black backpack he came in with, “Not my best pick.” He walks into my room casually, like climbing in through my second floor window is a regular Saturday night occurrence. “Seems like the kind of thing you’d like, though. Brought it in case you wanted something to do later.” 

He tosses the tape casually onto my bed. I stare at it for a long second, hating the fact that he knows me so well. I remember seeing trailers for The Craft and wanting to watch it. Some joke about how he’s implying that he thinks I have bad taste tries to come out, but I can’t seem to form the words. 

I don’t know if it’s the casual gesture or the fact that they showed up when I didn’t want to be alone, but an emotion I don’t really get threatens to overwhelm me. Maybe this reaction is the result of the phone call with my dad.

Stu must notice my stillness because he asks, “You okay?” 

I take large steps, moving around my bed in order to reach him. My hug must surprise him, but Stu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Tuesday,” I mumble, “I was moody and defensive and things have felt kinda weird since then and I just want things to be normal again.” This might be a total mistake, it feels like revealing an open wound. “You’re like one of my best friends.” 

He squeezes me tighter, “One of?” 

Tilting my head up to look at him, I reply, “Don’t get greedy.” 

“Fine,” Stu mumbles after a second of pretend contemplation. 

I should pull away now, but there’s something comforting about the position we’re in. Stu’s hugs are underrated, but his ego is big enough without me telling him that. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” 

“Mm...” He hums for a long second. “Nope, not really.” Well, getting along with him was nice while it lasted. I pull away sharply, shoving his chest when he reaches out to me. “I’m kidding,” Stu laughs, “Kidding.” I glare, trying to escape his hold. “I’m sorry, angel. I should have known that you were moody because of your head.” 

The nickname takes me by surprise. I remember it from my hazy night at the hospital. I didn’t think twice of it then. Should I think about it now? It’s not particularly weirder than any other of the other nicknames Stu’s always calling me, and they’re all the same level of flirty except maybe bug, which is only really used when he wants his way.

“My head’s hurting a lot less.” I straighten slightly, arms dropping casually as I take a step back. Stu lets me. “I even took the SAT this morning. Totally not ideal with a concussion by the way, if my scores come back and they’re bad I’m so blaming the killer.” 

“I remember your reaction at the doctor’s office.”

I turn towards Billy, who’s casually sitting on my bed like he lives here. “Yeah, not my best moment.” I scratch the back of my arm. “Thank you for making me go to the doctor, by the way. The first thing my mom said when I got home was that you must be some kind of saint to have put up with me like that. She’s always telling me that I’m a total monster when I’m sick in any capacity.”

Billy almost smiles, “So your mom likes me now?” 

“You’re making progress.” Basically a lie. My mom won’t like any boys I’m friends with until I’m a college graduate. It’s shocking enough that she tolerates them. 

“Really?” 

I shrug, slightly unsure. Stu moves to sit across from me. “You can tell your mom I’m willing to do whatever to get in her good graces.” 

Cringing, I grab a pillow from behind me and throw it at Stu. He barely manages to block it with his forearm. “She’s my mom!” 

“And she’s a total babe.” 

“You’re getting kicked out.” 

Stu holds his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, you’re still my girl.” 

I roll my eyes, pulling my legs beneath me. “Mhm, I’ll mention that to Tatum next time she calls.”

Stu props the backpack up against the side of my bed. The way he dramatically falls across my bed is almost enough to get me to break character. He places a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “Don’t turn this into something ugly. You know I love you both, just in different ways.” 

“I’m glad you two felt the need to sneak in through my window to tell me that.” The comment makes me think about something that they practically made me forget about. “Why did you guys come here through the window anyway?” 

“We missed you,” Billy answers with no hesitation. His tone is just a little too sweet to be genuine. When I give him a look, he tilts his head before actually answering the question, “We wanted to check in. It had been a few days, and you didn’t come back to school. You stopped answering calls. Sid told me the last two times she called you, your mom picked up and said you weren’t up for conversation.” 

Normally, the thought of people looking out for me makes me nervous. Especially when it’s a guy. I know that past friendships and family issues aren’t the kinds of things I should push onto them. They’ve been good friends. Maybe it’s okay to let people in a little more than I have in the past. Besides, they’re just worried about their high strung friend that was attacked by a murderer and then had a melt down at school, it’s not like they’re crazy for being concerned. 

“That’s nice of you guys. I’m doing better, I’ve just been...kinda disconnected lately. And honestly, I’ve been spending a lot more time doing makeup work than I’d like to admit.” My posture relaxes slightly. “You don’t need to worry.” 

“There’s also a killer on the loose, and you don’t lock your window.” 

Billy has a tiny bit of a point. In scary movies, I always get frustrated when characters are dumb. It’s the small, careless things that distinguish those that die and those that make it to the sequel. “My room’s on the second floor, I thought that’d count for something.”

“Not when the world’s easiest to climb tree is in your backyard,” Stu adds, “I thought you’d think twice about things like that.” He turns his head so that he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. “You’re always reading mystery books and the only thing you care about in movies is that there’s a final girl.” 

Great, now Stu’s right, too. “That’s not the only thing I care about.” He’s quiet, watching me with a strange level of focus. He’s weirdly calm...almost dazed. I blink, gaze shifting to watch Billy from the corner of my eye. He’s also seems a little weird. “Are you guys drunk or something?” 

Stu lets out a mock gasp. “Wow. You think that little of us?” 

My eyes narrow, focusing on the backpack I so quickly dismissed earlier. “I think that if I opened that bag I’d find beer.” 

With a wounded sigh, Stu sits up. He grabs his backpack, unzipping it casually. He reaches into it before pulling out a tall bottle. The liquid inside of it is as clear as the glass containing it. “Not exactly.” Stu unscrews the lid, taking an easy sip. He doesn’t wince as the liquid goes down his throat. “Here.” Billy shifts, reaching forward to take the bottle. “Ah--c’mon, Billy boy, let her have some. We’re being rude.” 

“It’s okay,” I interrupt quickly, “I’m good.” 

Stu frowns, extending his arm a little more. “Come on, angel, just a tiny sip. Less than a shot.” I don’t move, but my attention does shift to the bottle that’s hanging just a little too loosely from his fingers. “I won’t even tell on you to your mom.” 

I roll my eyes at what he’s so clearly implying. “I think she’d be more focused on the fact that you chose to come in through the window.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I admit, “Plus, she’s not downstairs, so you can’t tattle on me anyways.” I watch him take in the words, a part of me regretting bringing that up. “Why’d you guys come in this way anyways? I would’ve come to the door.” 

“You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.” Stu props his head up on his elbow. 

I look at him and then at Billy. “So this is an ambush.” 

Billy drops one of his bent legs just enough to bump his knee into mine. “A wellness check in.” 

Tamping down a grin, I roll my eyes.  “Right. Silly of me not to realize.” 

“If your mom’s not here, where is she?” 

Stu’s blatant nosiness should have been expected. “Why? You actually here for her?” 

“Jealous?” 

Pressing my back into a pillow, I fake gag.”She’s my mom, Stu.” 

He rolls his eyes at my theatrics before laying back down. I know that they must have noticed the way I ignored the question, but telling them that my mom’s not home and that she’s not going to be home for days feels a little like tempting fate now that I know they’re at least tipsy.

Billy lazily reaches for the bottle again. Stu lets him take it this time. 

“She’s in Texas, anyways.” Please tell me my voice sounds casual and not at all nervous. “That must be so sad for you.” 

I’m waiting for some kind of joke about blue balls or being heartbroken. Instead, Stu props his head up again. “So she’s not here not here?” 

The distinction sends nerves straight to my stomach and I’m not sure why. My confusion is more uncomfortable than what I’m feeling. “Yeah,” I mumble, sitting up a little straighter, “Family emergency thing. My godmother is like super pregnant with twins and just got put on bed rest. Her husband’s out of town for work this weekend, so my mom flew there to take care of her.” 

Billy’s head turns in my direction, “So it’s just you and good old step dad.” 

His lips turn upwards at my glare. “No, Wells is with her.” I shift uncomfortably at the thought of being alone with Wells with no buffer for that long. “I would’ve gone with them, but I already had the SAT scheduled and their flight was early.” 

Stu breaks the unexpected silence, “So they left you alone with a killer on the loose?” 

Shrugging, I drop my gaze to the floral pattern of my bedsheets. “It’s not like that. My godmother’s miscarried before, she’s freaked out.” My pointer finger traces the dainty pink petals sewn into the fabric. “And I just calmed myself down, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring that stuff up.” 

“Relax, angel,” Stu mumbles absentmindedly, “You can stay at my place if you want. My parents aren’t home either, so it’s just me and Billy tonight.” `

Yeah, I’ve done a lot of pathetic things recently, and I don’t need to add crashing Billy and Stu’s sleepover to the list. Plus I don’t think I need to know what goes on at boys sleepovers. Living with a grown man for the first time was enough of a culture shock. “I appreciate the offer, but last time I stayed over at someone’s house kind of...” 

“We could stay here.” Stu’s offer comes out so casual, so without a second thought, I nearly get whiplash. I stare at him, waiting for him to grin or do anything that indicates that he’s joking. He does neither, instead he just looks at Billy like he’s asking him if they’re staying here. Not me.

Billy tilts the bottle in my direction, silently offering it to me. “We could hang out, make sure you fall asleep okay.” He relaxes enough to let his free hand fall. His fingertips ghost my forearm. “Pretend all you want, but I know that staying by yourself has to be bothering you a little.” 

Ugh. I hate when he’s right. Maybe a drink isn’t the worst idea right now. It might give me the confidence I need to seem okay with being home alone. I take the bottle, cautiously bringing it up to my lips with the intention of only taking a sip. The bottle tilts upwards with no warning. The unexpected amount of extra alcohol leaves me nearly sputtering. I’m forced to down two large mouthfuls to avoid spilling it all over my bed.

When I finally get the bottle away from me, the sound of laughter and the rush of straight vodka leave me flushed. “Stu!” I’m trying to yell at him, but his name is barely sputtered out between coughs. 

“What? This isn’t even 40 proof.” 

Billy glares in Stu’s direction before he sits up a little more. I let him tilt my chin up softly. His touch is feather light as he wipes excess liquid up my chin and across my bottom lip. The motion is slow, the nail of his thumb pressing into the edge of my lip, pulling it just enough for me to notice. He’s looking at me with such deliberation my stomach drops. 

Wow, I really cannot handle my alcohol. I pull away, hand gripping the side of my bed as cautiously as possible. “You suck, you know how I get when I drink.” 

I’ve only been drunk in front of them once. The entire group was together and after my first beer, I spent the rest of the night holding Tatum’s hand and whining whenever Stu tried to steal her away. He was starting to actually get annoyed with me, but I ended up getting super nauseous before he could actually get mad. The next day, he teased me to no end about being an extremely touchy lightweight. 

“You weren’t that bad,” Stu lies, hand casually reaching forward to catch my ankle. “Just touchy. Thought you and Tay were getting ready to put on a show.”

“Shut up.”

He yanks my foot towards him, placing my calf on his lap. “Make me.” 

I roll my eyes, nerves that I don’t understand rising up my chest at the silence that follows. I could laugh, but he doesn’t need that kind of encouragement, so instead I kick the foot he pulled towards him. The movement is light, more of an attempt to shake him off than anything else. Stu doesn’t take it that way. His hand moves up past my calf, fingers harshly pressing into my skin. 

I’m reminded of that night in the hospital. The way Stu gripped my thigh. Small bruises that I thought about more than I’d ever admit lingered there for days. He was joking then, and he’s joking now, but his touch feels different. More (or maybe less?) restrained. There’s also something about the way he’s looking at me. 

My head turns in Billy’s direction. “Think I could take him?” 

Billy looks at Stu and then at me. “You’d kick his ass.”

I grin openly, glad for the break from tension. Stu’s hold on my leg loosens. He’s no longer gripping onto me, but his touch is persistent as he draws patterns against my skin. The change doesn’t exactly ease me, but I’m worried trying to pull away will make things worse. Something tells me he won’t take it seriously, he’ll think I’m challenging him as a joke or something. 

“You wanna kick my ass?” Stu drags his fingers up my leg, stopping at my knee before slowly moving back down.

I shrug, “Not sure yet.” 

Stu rolls his eyes before extending the hand holding the bottle. “Decide after another sip.” When I dramatically glare at him, Stu smiles slightly. “I promise not to do anything this time. I’m still not convinced, and it doesn’t entirely have to do with Stu. I’m not sure I want to drink anymore, I’m already finding it hard to focus. “Tell her, Billy.” 

“I can’t help that she’s not an idiot.” 

Billy’s response isn’t even that funny, but I laugh freely anyways. Stu pouts at my reaction, pulling the bottle back towards him. “Fine, don’t trust me.” 

I’ve dealt with Stu’s coldness for days and he’s just starting to act normal again. The last thing I want is for there to be another fight, even if it’s just a petty one. With a roll of my eyes, I lean forward and grab the bottle. “Don’t be so dramatic,” I bring the bottle to my lips and take a quick drink. The liquid burns as it goes down. “See, I trust you.” 

Stu doesn’t relax. He just stares at me. Are his eyes darker than they were earlier or is the alcohol starting to get to me? I need an excuse to break eye contact. I raise the bottle again, taking another sip.

Billy’s touch on my back is easing, which is nice because the buzz is starting to kick in a lot stronger than I expected it to. There’s no way Stu was telling the truth when he said that the vodka’s less than 40 proof. “Have you had anything to eat?” He’s moving his hand in circles like he did when he found me in the bathroom. It’s more soothing than it should be. “Last time you didn’t you got sick.” 

His words are so calm I find myself giggling. “That’s very motherly of you.” Billy throws me a slightly irritated look. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s nice.” My head tilts forward, the motion more drastic than I intended it to be. Billy places a hand on my cheek, stabilizing me. “I um--I ate. Ordered Pizza earlier. There’s still some in the kitchen if you guys are hungry. Or I could--could get you something to drink. My mom would be mad if she knew you guys were here, but she’d kill me if she knew I had people over and didn’t offer then anything to eat.”

Billy tilts his head downwards, a strand of hair falling forward. The urge to push it back into place leaves my fingers itching. “Does that mean you’re letting us stay?” 

What does that mean? They’ve been staying. It takes me a second to realize that he’s asking me if they’re staying the night. “It’s--” 

“Come on,” his voice is soft, his breath warm against my jaw, “We just want to help.” 

My thoughts are mush, and I’m not sure that’s just because of the alcohol. I lean back in hopes of creating some distance. “You guys can hang out,” I mumble, “But I don’t think you should stay too late. I’m kind of spacey and a little tipsy and tired. Think it’d be good for me to stay by myself tonight.” The answer feels awkward, maybe even a little risky. My eyes focus on the Princeton banner in the corner of the room. His silence is beginning to crawl under my skin. “Billy?” 

When I finally find the courage to look at him again, there’s something eerie about the blankness in his expression. His hand drops from my face. “It is getting late.” He glances at Stu, nodding his head once in the direction of the window. “Wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.” 

I settle the bottle in my lap before wiping at my face with both hands. I should have known better. He takes things like that more personally than one would expect. Memories of the time Billy asked me if I wanted to study for our History test together after school leave me frozen in place. I had already promised to help Randy study for a math test. Billy was cold towards me for a week. 

“Billy.” He doesn’t look back at me. I scoot to the edge of my bed, placing the bottle on my nightstand. “Stu.” Stu glances at me, but says nothing. “Don’t go.” I can’t look at them. My nails dig into my bedsheets. “Come on, I-I need you guys.” 

God, I’m never drinking again. The admission is so embarrassing I can feel blood rush to my face. I don’t look up until fingers press in to the skin beneath my chin. My head is tilted upwards before I can make any kind of decision. 

“Need us?” Billy’s voice is low and unbearably patient. 

I blink up at him, unsure on how to proceed. I learned early on in our friendship that it takes little to trigger some kind of power trip in them, and that that tends to lead to meanness. But every part of that’s lost to the buzzed feeling of the alcohol doesn’t care. I nod slowly. 

I’d consider the slight uptilt of the corner of his mouth a smile if it wasn’t for the strange look behind his eye. He’s so hard to read sometimes and that just makes me resent the fact that I’ve always been an open book. He knew about my concussion before I did. “A little bit of alcohol is all it takes with you, huh?” 

His tone is so patronizing I’d pull away if I was any less fuzzy. “More than a little.” 

Billy lets out a partially amused breath. “To you.” 

“Remember how you got after two beers?” Stu sits next to me, so close our knees touch.

I shift back, forcing my eyes to stay on my lap. “That’s why I didn’t want to drink a lot, but some asshole tilted the bottle with no warning.” 

“Mean of them,” Stu agrees, shockingly amicable as he takes my hand from my lap. I watch as he messes with my fingers, curling and uncurling them like a child would with a toy. “Let us stay, bug. We’ll have fun, watch movies, I’ll go downstairs for you if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.” 

The specificness of that last part leaves me confused. I tilt my head in his direction, but Stu pays no mind to it. Billy half huffs, “I’d get you the water, Stu’s too selfish when he’s tired.” 

“Fuck you,” Stu protests, squeezing my hand once, “Maybe I’d do for it Y/n. Maybe I like her more than I like you.”

Billy barely justifies that response with a look in Stu’s direction. He then turns towards me, eyes softening slightly as he shakes his head once. Despite myself, I smile fondly. “It’s not that I don’t want you guys to stay, it’s that I don’t know if it’s okay.” 

Of course Stu’s the one to ask, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” 

Even in my state, I know he knows exactly what I’m implying. He’s fighting a grin, enjoying the prospect of me having to say it a little too much. For once, I can’t use my mom as an excuse. There’s literally zero possibility of her finding out, she won’t be in the same state as us until Tuesday. The only way she’d find out is if I tell her and if I admit that I’m scared of letting it slip out, the mommy’s girl jokes will never end. 

“You know why,” I begin, watching Stu trace the line of my palms. “Don’t think Sid and Tatum would love the idea of their boyfriends...” He’s really going to make me say it. I resist the urge to pull my hand back into my lap and curl into myself. “...Having sleepovers with me.” 

The words are barely out of my mouth before Stu laughs. “You and Tay get up to a lot at your sleepovers?” 

The alcohol’s really getting to me because it takes me a second to understand the joke. My delayed eye roll is definitely noticed. “That’s not--it’s--” I pull my hand away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what I mean. It’s different.” 

“Why’s it so different?” 

That’s the kind of question I expect from Stu, but from Billy, it’s not as easy to dismiss with an eye roll and halfhearted shove. “It’d-it’d seem weird,” I whisper, “Tate and Sid--” 

“Would be happy that we’re keeping you safe. They love you.” Billy places a hand on my shoulder, his thumb brushing against the strap of my tank top. I was too distracted before to think about what I’m wearing, but now I can’t help noticing that this is the skimpiest I’ve ever worn in front of them. 

It’s not like I’m naked--but my old, elastic pajama shorts are the kind of thing I can’t wear around Wells. My tank top isn’t scandalous, but I’m too aware of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. I also don’t love being seen in clothes like this. Two different types of insecurity strike at the same time.  

“Sid would kill me if I let anything happen to you,” Billy continues, his thumb moving up and down my skin. “C’mon.” 

This was always a losing fight. It’s kind of hard to put your foot down when it comes to something that you don’t really want. I know that my points are valid, or at least, I think they’re valid.

Maybe I am being a little dramatic. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad. Even if they didn’t have girlfriends, I really doubt either of them would see me like that. And is it so bad that I don’t want to be completely alone in this house? We’re friends, friends have sleepovers. Plus it is nighttime and they’ve been drinking, sending them to walk home could lead to something happening to them.

“Okay,” I give in, “But best behavior. My mom will kill me if she thinks you guys stayed over.”

“Aw,” Stu says, moving to rest his head on my shoulder, “Willing to keep a secret from your mom for us.” 

Instead of shaking Stu off, I rest my head against his. “Guess I like you guys.” 

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.” 

I frown, “I’m not sleepy.” 

“Then let’s go watch a movie.” I pout when Stu moves away, “Come on, I brought options.”

Moving to sit closer to the edge of the bed, I wipe my eyes with the back of my palm tiredly. Stu brought more movies? For a spontaneous, tipsy visit, Stu seems remarkably prepared. He grabs the bottle off of my nightstand. The implications of that makes me sigh loudly. 

Billy reaches forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s easier to go along with it.” I let him help me to my feet. When I sway, Billy’s hand is quick to find my hip. “I’ll help you down the stairs.” 

I don’t protest. It’s probably for the best, anyways. Tipsy me isn’t exactly known for her coordination. 

True to his word, Billy’s hand stays on my hip as as we walk to the living room. Once we’re down the stairs, Billy’s hold on me doesn’t loosen. Stu’s already messing with the VCR by the time I’m sitting on the couch. I consider offering him some help, but decide against it. I’m comfortable, and probably too out of it to be useful.

Watching a movie feels like a good thing. Knowing them, it’s probably something scary, and they take their horror movies seriously. It’ll consume their attention, which means I’ll be able to recover from the alcohol in peace.

Stu must figure out the VCR because he stands up and walks towards us. He sits down next to me, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “What’d you put on?”

"The Shining.” 

“Finished the book recently.” 

“Hm,” Stu hums in acknowledgement, already turning his full attention to the movie. 

The movie playing lets me relax. There’s no need to worry about doing anything stupid or embarrassing because the two of them are going to be immersed in what’s on the screen. 

Only a few minutes into the movie, Stu takes a sip from the bottle of alcohol. I almost forgot he brought that down with him. He then offers it to me without looking away from the TV. My hand wraps around the neck of the bottle. After a few sips, Billy takes it from me. He ignores the way I look at him, opting to drink even less than Stu did before setting the bottle down on the coffee table. 

I’ve watched The Shining before, and I’ve been meaning to rewatch it since finishing the book, but focusing isn’t coming easily to me right now. At least I know enough about to plot to not be confused as my thoughts tune in and out.

My head ends up on Billy’s shoulder. I don’t remember making the conscious choice to do so, but I’m comfortable and Billy doesn’t shake me off, he just brushes his knuckles up and down my leg absentmindedly. 

The longer the movie continues, the harder I find it to understand what’s going on. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because the bottle somehow keeps making its way back to me.

I blink hard, trying to figure out what point of the movie we’re at. We’re not near the end, Jack Torrence hasn’t fully snapped yet, but his writer’s block is getting bad. A confident touch to my left knee snaps me out of my analysis. My head turns against Billy’s shoulder. Stu’s eyes are still trained on the movie, but his hand is on my leg, and not in a casual, mindless way, either. 

He squeezes my knee as the little boy rides his tricycle past room 237. “Stu.” His fingertips trail up my inner thigh slowly, lingering where my shorts end. I shift, unintentionally pressing myself more into Billy. Stu presses his hand down in order to keep my leg in place. “Stu.” What’s meant to be a scolding comes out too sleepy and slurred. It practically sounds like a whine.  “’M serious.” 

Stu’s nails drag up my skin. My breath catches in my throat oddly, a tiny sound slipping out. “Serious about what?” My lips part, but no words are ready to come out. “You’re okay,” he whispers, “Just watch the movie, angel.” I’m too buzzed to do anything but nod. “Want more to drink?” 

“She’s done,” Billy squeezes my forearm, “Anymore and she’ll get sick.”

The thought of drinking anymore does twist my stomach. Sometimes the way Billy reads people is a tiny bit eerie. I nod against his arm, squeezing his hand. Stu shrugs, turning back to the movie without moving his hand from my thigh.

By the time the movie’s ending, the fact that I’m aware of anything is a miracle. I only fell asleep once and woke up to the feeling of Stu squeezing my thigh. The fact that my initial reaction wasn’t to try to get him to knock it off, but to pretend to still be asleep scared me so much I didn’t let myself relax for the rest of the movie. 

"She asleep?” Stu’s voice is barely louder than the sound of still rolling credits. 

I shift against Billy in a sad attempt to sit up fully with no support. “Still awake,” my voice is too drowsy, I try a little harder to sit up before wiping my eyes. “’M up.”

Billy keeps a hand on my arm in an attempt to help stabilize me. “Clearly.” I try throwing a sarcastic look in his direction, but it feels kind of pathetic. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Stu grabs my hand, pulling on my arm before I can respond. They help me stand and stay up. They’re attentive as we move up the stairs, pausing and holding me a little tighter each time I threaten to sway or stumble. I’m barely there by the time we get to my room.

The second I see my bed, I abandon them both in favor of finding my mattress. I stumble, pulling back my sheets before laying down. Billy sits down on the other side of the bed. I roll onto my stomach in order to reach for him. My hand falls short, but Billy moves to compensate for my lethargy. 

I can barely lift my head off of the mattress, “Hi.” 

His hand is on my back, moving in small circles. “Hi,” he echoes. I smile at nothing in particular as I try to keep my eyes open. “You need sleep.” 

With a laugh, I turn onto my back. Billy moves his hand away, looking at me sternly as I continue to giggle. “Astute observation.” I lazily try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Weird word, huh?” Using the last of my energy to sit up, I laugh again. The sound gets cut short by a yawn. “Never really thought about it before the SAT.” 

“Uh-huh,” Stu starts, placing a hand on my shoulder, “You spent who knows how long with your nose in an SAT prep book, we get it. Now go to sleep.” 

My head lulls to the side, mainly subconscious protest must be visible on my face because Stu pushes against my shoulder and that’s all it takes for my back to fall flat against my bed. My eyes go wide in surprise. I shift like I want to sit up, but then decide to just roll onto my side. “That wasn’t nice.” 

He sits next to me, “I’ll make it up to you in the morning.” My eyes are now shut but I can hear his movements. The feel of a hand brushing against my side should alarm me more. I open my eyes just enough to see Stu lying next to me. “Promise.” 

I hum vaguely in agreement, nodding my head more into my sheets than anything else. I’m so close to sleep I barely register the feeling of Billy’s hand against my back, moving in the same circular motions as before.

The last thing I register before falling fully asleep is the light getting turned off and long fingers brushing against my neck. I’m in a state that’s more dream than reality when something oddly sharp--but not painful--quickly brushes against my neck. Before I can think about it, I’m pulled under. 

----

Narrator’s POV

Stu can’t help it. He’s been trying to keep it together all night, trying to pace himself and hold onto the way he’s supposed to act, but it’s been getting increasingly harder around you. Especially tonight.

The urge to break character, in a sense, isn’t his fault. Not really. How is he supposed to focus and play best friend’s boyfriend when you’re everywhere? The postures and pictures on your wall, the overflowing, well loved bookshelf in the corner, and your sheets. The dainty floral pattern, the softness of the cotton, and the way that they smell so much like you. He can’t stop imagining what it’d feel like to press your face into them as you took him from behind. 

He thought being in your room would be easy. It’s not like he’s never checked it out before, but only while you weren’t home. But being here with you? A drunk, touchy, needy you? Almost impossible. He’s been trying to hide how hard he is all night. 

But now you’re asleep, and the alcohol he kept getting you to drink is guaranteed to keep you that way until late morning. His hands have been all over you since he first realized that your breathing evened out. He moves one hand to palm himself over his pants. His free hand trails down your side, squeezing your hip. 

“Go to sleep.” Billy’s voice isn’t tired, just a little flat, and maybe a tiny bit annoyed.

 Stu recognizes the lack of demand in Billy’s tone and decides that his words are more of a ‘knock it off’ than a serious ‘stop’. “Like you’re not hard.” Stu’s fingers brush against the hem of your shorts. “Y/n said she needed us and then spent two and a half hours basically laying on top of you.” Stu slips his hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, knowing that with a few more words he could finally get some release. “Remember yesterday?” Stu groans, his hand moving down his length. “You came to the thought of that.” 

Billy stays still, ignoring a feeling he’s been in control of since early in the night. “It’s too soon.” He glances at you, so tired and so needy. “We push anymore tonight and we won’t be able to blame it on drinking.” Your breath flutters slightly, your chest expanding a bit more than usual. “If she thinks anything’s up she won’t talk to us anymore. She’s still too close to Sidney and Tatum.” 

“Relax,” Stu sighs, his hand moving a little bit faster, “Sh-she drank enough to keep her knocked out until tomorrow. Fuck.” Stu turns his head at the sound of Billy moving. He frowns dramatically when he realizes that the movement was just Billy brushing his knuckles over your cheek in order to sooth you and make sure you’re still sleeping comfortably. “You’re babying her, we should just talk her into it already.” Stu likes the thought of that more than he can put into words. The three of you, like it should be. “Should’ve felt her when my hand was on her thigh. She--fuck--she was shaking, pretending to be asleep.” 

Billy lets out a breath, reaching over for Stu lazily. You don’t even shift at the motion. “You think I’m babying her, but she’s the one that has you wrapped around her finger.” 

Stu parts his lips to protest, but Billy pushes his hand beneath the waistband of Stu’s pants before he can get the words out. “Shit,” Stu’s breath hitches, “Fuck you, Y/n lets me do whatever I wan-want.” Billy moves his hand at a pace that’s agonizing. “She wouldn’t stop me if I-” 

Stu cuts himself off with a groan. Billy finishes the sentence for him, “If you spread her legs apart, pulled those tiny shorts to the side, and ate her out until she’s crying.” With each word, Billy picks up his pace, indifferent to Stu’s whines. “You want to do that?” 

“Yes,” Stu doesn’t hesitate, “Fuck, yes.” 

“She’d squirm under you like before.” God, Stu’s practically seeing stars. “She’d let us fuck her like a whore.” 

Stu bites his tongue to suppress a whine, his fingertips digging into your hip. “Shit, I’m close.” 

Billy moves his hand up, pulling it away from Stu slowly. He ignores Stu’s whine. “Go to sleep.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129

[bisexual-queenie]

Could you please post some Mha Pro Heroes head canons. By pros I mean the current pros.

Of course! Im super happy I got this ask!

(Trigger warning: A very small mention of a cult, but its not explicit)

All of nationality headcannons:

Mic: Half Japanese Half Italian

Edgeshot: Half Japanese Half Thai

Nighteye: Half Japanese Half Vietnamese

Miruko: Half Japanese Half Dominican

Mount Lady: Half Japanese Half Swedish

Present Mic, Edgeshot, and Nighteye are neurodivergent (ADHD, ADD, and Autistic respectively).

The Lurkers have a groupchat that was supposed to be for professional uses only, however it soon became so much more chaotic in a matter of minutes. People think Edgeshot, being the leader and all, created it, but it was actually Kamui (bless his heart by thinking it was gonna be professional). Edgeshot and Mount Lady quickly filled the chat with as much chaos as they could muster in 5 minutes.

Present Mic remembers every pro hero’s birthday, and you bet your ass he throws them the most spectacular birthday party ever (and by spectacular I mean the party fits what that hero is most comfortable with. If the hero in question doesn’t like huge elaborate parties, the party is more quiet and private. If the hero is a known party animal, then the room quickly becomes an elaborate house party)

Edgeshot and Ryukyuu know how to professionally throat sing. (Listen to “Genesis” by Otyken as a reference thats where I got this one lmao)

Some headconnons regarding pronouns and sexuality! (Please note these are no way cannon whatsoever, but rather something my brain think about a lot)

All Might: Cis Male — He/Him (Bi)

Eraserhead: Cis Male — He/Him (Gay)

Present Mic: Genderfluid — He/She/They (Bi)

Midnight: AFAB NB — She/They (Pan)

Ingenium (Tensei): AMAB NB — He/They (Bi)

Nighteye: Trans Man — He/Him (Gay)

Mount Lady: Cis Female — She/Her (Bi)

Kamui Woods: Cis Male — He/Him (Straight but such a wonderful ally. Would definitely hand out water at pride parades)

Edgeshot: AFAB NB — They/Them (Pan)

Best Jeanist: Cis Male — He/Him (Gay) (But like, he still could care less about gender, he identifies as a cis guy but trancends gender at the same time, y’know?)

Gang Orca: AMAB NB —They/Them (Gay) (In his words: “Orcas dont need genders”)

Miruko: Cis Female — She/Her (Lesbian)

Hawks: Cis Male — He/Him (Bi) (Never really put much thought into his identity, but is a huge supporter if everyone else in his usual nonchalant way)

Endeavor: Cis Male — He/Him (Straight) (I wholeheartedly think he doesn’t really understand, and thinks he is trying, but sometimes doesn’t show correctly, you know what I mean?)

Fat Gum: Cis Male —He/Him (Straight Ally all the way! He’s the one parading everyone around at pride event, wearing pride merch and making food for everyone)

Ryukyuu: Trans Female — She/Her (Lesbian)

(Please tell me if I used the correct terminology or not)

Nighteye can play the piano like a pro.

Present Mic loves playing the acoustic guitar. Hes THAT guy at a campfire.

While there is the obvious romatic relationships I adore (Erasermic, Edgejeanist, Nightmight, Kamui x Mount Lady, etc.), there are so many cute scenarios for platonic relationships

Eraserhead and Edgeshot being frenemies but caring for eachother so dearly.

Edgeshot and Ryukyuu BROTP

Gang Orca thinking they are the third wheel for Edgejeanist, but little do they know they consider them to be their “third”.

Lurkers being super close with one another

All Might caring for every pro hero like a mother hen

Nighteye and Midnight having gossip sessions

Miruko and Hawks BROTP #2

Ok, possibly the weirdest one yet: Yoroi Musha (the elderly hero, former number 9 hero) is Edgeshot’s adopted dad. (I saw it in a fic once and fell in love with it).

- The story (in my head) goes that Edgeshot was born and raised in a cult in rural Japan, and then one day when they were like 10 the comune gets raided after a tip was given, and Yoroi Musha led the raid. His eyes fell into a young, malnourished, and terrified Edgeshot and was like “they’re my child now” (This is the super simplified version, and Im super intrested in writing this!)

All Might considers Gran Torino to be his father figure. As a result, Nighteye considered him to be his father in law. Gran Torino wishes he can deny this, but at this point he cannot.

Last but not least! Eri, once she gets comfortable enough, considers every pro hero to be her aunt/uncle/somewhere in between.

Thank you @dragonspiritxx for the wonderful ask! I hope you like this!

Hopefully everyone else will to! I haven’t posted anything MHA related since I graduated high school back in May and started college as well, so Im glad Im back in the groove!

[rivetgoth]

2020s Industrial/EBM & Friends

Hi all! I decided to go ahead and make a Spotify playlist of current artists in the industrial/EBM [and adjacent] scene. I am very tired of stumbling onto countless threads of people saying that industrial music is "dead." It is in fact currently experiencing an incredible booming renaissance! So here is a place where one could hopefully get started.

The requirements for this playlist are simply

Must be within the industrial/EBM scene or close enough to count by my own standards. Trying to avoid anything too far off, so keeping "sibling" genres to a minimum (for example, darkwave or aggrotech), but obviously the genre has evolved very much over the decades and there is still plenty of fusion and diversity in sound!

Must have released new music since 2020 or onwards. This playlist is a combination of older artists who are continuing to release new music (such as PIG and IAMX) as well as brand new artists who have just begun their career with debut EPs (such as Normal Bias and FUEDAL). The only requirement is making new music from 2020 to present; this isn't about new bands per se, just currently active ones. I would like to keep updating this playlist as time goes on and more artists release new work, but that may end up being a time commitment larger than I can promise, so no guarantee on that. But hopefully!

One song per band. This is just to keep things consistent. I wanted to pick a song for each band that's either somewhat popular so as to give an idea of what they're doing that's catching people's attention, and/or a personal preference of my own that I think is cool and worth checking out, lol. Order doesn't matter at all, you can shuffle it as much as you like.

While artists from all backgrounds are featured and I want to make an active effort not to tokenize, I did try to include a wide range of diverse artists, with numerous artists of color, female artists, queer artists, neurodivergent artists, etc on this list.

A few other preemptive Q&As:

"[x] band I like isn't on here!"

I am absolutely, 100% confident I have missed more bands than I can even fathom, this is a massive genre and this playlist is in no way whatsoever meant to be comprehensive. I definitely want this playlist to continue to evolve over time. I also admittedly may have not included a band because I just don't really personally care for them enough, or because I didn't feel like they quite fit the sound I was thinking of here. Feel free to send me an ask if you feel like I'm missing something important, and even if I'm not huge on a band, if it seems like they're high in demand I might add them for posterity, lol.

"[x] band isn't real industrial"

Again, this genre has evolved massively since its formation in the 70s. We all know that. I don't really care about splitting hairs too much when it comes to genres; I'm basing this on the scene as it's currently evolved, the community surrounding it (including who these bands play with and the festivals booking them), the cited inspirations and self identification of the bands themselves, and if I personally would be able to sleep at night if I called them industrial in casual conversation, LMAO. I also consider fusion genres a very important part of the life and evolution of a genre, so industrial hip hop, industrial metal, and the likes all make some appearances.

"Spotify sucks"

Yeah. Agreed entirely, cannot argue with you there. But this is the easiest avenue I know of to make a decent, accessible playlist for a wide variety of listeners. Please do check out these artists offsite, follow them on Bandcamp or their other social media sites, buy their music and merch, etc. Unfortunately this also means that many artists who are not on Spotify aren't featured here, which sucks, since there are some absolutely amazing industrial bands coming out of Bandcamp right now who deserve recognition. Here is a link to the "industrial" tag on Bandcamp if you want to dive deeper.

Hopefully at least a few people can get something out of this!!

[schumiatspa]

Okay I'm gonna elaborate on my "Charlos as Romeo and Juliet" take, I just couldn't shut up, I'm sorry akansksj

Don't expect anything deep from this long rant because it's just going to be a bunch of personal opinions on f1 ships and friendships, family-like dynamics (i'm a sucker for the family found trope ngl) and such, all badly taped together lol

SO the grid is more or less divided into two sides: the Hamilton-Vettel side and the Alonso side (I'm considering the current only, plus Mick, Seb and Danny).

The Hamilton-Vettel family: grid dads Lewis and Seb are disgustingly in love and happily married and Charles is obviously their child™, alongside Mick and George (I don't see him as their kid as much as the other two, but he's not that far, so). Other people included in this family are definitely Alex (Georgie's boyfriend and Charles's friend), Pierre (Charles's bff and Lewis's friend) and Lance (Seb's former teammate and pseudo grid kid and one of Mick's bffs). I know that Lance being here and not on the other side of the barricade could disappoint some people because of the 'good relationship' he seems to have built with Fernando (I saw your Strollonso propaganda and porn), BUT c'mon!! He's Mick's friend! He was definitely indoctrinated by Seb! He said his idol growing up was Michael (which might have single-handedly got him adopted by Seb lmao)! No way he's leaning towards Nando.

The Alonso family (single dad power!) is basically him and his kids: Max (he has clearly chosen him as his successor in f1), Lando (he loves him and Max and Carlos love him too, so) and obviously Carlos (we know all Spanish athletes are probably in a sort of cult, spanish solidarity is very strong, they have known each other since Carlos was a child thanks to Sainz Senior blablabla).

That being said, we are all aware of the not-so-simple relationship between Seb and Fernando and Lewis and Fernando and their whole decade-long history. This obviously causes some big trouble when Charlos fall in love and begin dating. Seb and Lewis do approve of their son-in-law (there are a lot of pictures of them interacting and they seem to get along pretty well - an example is the Barcelona gp and the whole chili bucket hat drama lmao), if Fernando wasn't there Carlos could easily slip into their family and be pseudo adopted even without marrying into the family (Carlos as Sewis's kid could make sense) BUT Fernando. is. there. and Sewis don't really approve of him, and viceversa - i'd say that he likes Charles, so the problem is always the same: their respective son's in-laws (I'd add that Carlos Sainz Sr is the one who doesn't like Charles very much, he probably sees him as a threat). Moreover I think that things between Lewis and Max might still be sort of tense, same goes for Georgie and Max, and other similar conflicts, so Christmas dinners with the in-laws won't probably be very pleasant in general (the risk of them easily turning into crime scenes is very high - there are knifes around). SO all of this means that Charles and Carlos are a bit like Romeo and Juliet!! They come from two different families which are more or less in conflict with each other (and the conflict can only increase as the championship goes on, especially with Fernando currently doing well and Ferrari being utterly shit, because the gap is getting increasingly bigger) but their love managed to blossom in the middle ground. Obviously it's not that dramatic, the two sides don't hate each other that much: it's not hate per se, it's more... some dislike? Complicated feelings for sure! I know that some drivers are friends with the enemy family (es. The Twitch Quartet), but it's all for the sake of the narrative lol Anyway the vibes are there!! And they're immaculate!! I haven't imagined how a proper and more elaborate Romeo&Juliet AU could work (yet), but the foundation would be more or less this. Something that would be interesting to reflect on is how the dynamics would change if the championship results were different (es. Ferrari were competitive), between everybody and especially between our Romeo and Juliet, but I'm digressing now

Bonus: what about the rest of the grid? Val obviously prefers the Hamilton-Vettel side, Checo would be on Fernando's side (Spanish speaker solidariety and all that, but his 'allegiance' is not that strong, I suppose he doesn't care that much, he's like a distant uncle), Oscar is actually Mark Webber's kid (and!! that's a story for another day, because!! Mark... and... Seb... and Mark and Fernando!! We all know things happened. But let's not dwell on that rn, it would be too complicated) so he'd better stay out of the conflict and Logan, being useless his friend, would probably follow him, so. I imagine Kmag and Hulk would more or less stay neutral (they've got their personal sUcK mY bAlLs MaTe beef going on so lol) and so would Nyck? Tbh I didn't give them much thought because someone like Yuki is much more interesting in this setting, since he is Pierre's bf but Fernando has taken a liking to him and kinda made him one of his grid kids, so he is in a peculiar position. But let's be real, Yuki doesn't give many fucks, so he is probably going to waltz from on side of the paddock to the other without a care in the world. Estie is interesting too: while he is Mick's other bff, he also has a love-hate relationship with Fernando. I believe that he is on the other side, still I don't trust him and Nando together lmao. I'm actually not sure about Zhou, he would probably be quite neutral, but I know he admires Fernando a lot (I admit I'm fumbling a little bit in the dark here lol but it's okay, I hadn't actually thought about every single driver, some of them I'm making up as I type).

The real wild card is Danny Ric, because he has known Lewis and Seb for years (underrated trio!!) and obviously likes George and Pierre and more or less their whole family BUT. Alonso has Max on his side. And Lando. So Danny's probably like the friendly neighborhood dog: he loves everybody and he gets fed like four times a day because everybody loves him and he doesn't really pick a side.

The end.

[monstersinthecosmos]

HI <3 Sheith VC anon here back with a very humble request. So I've read TVL and am currently reading QoTD, just finished the Devil's Minion chapter (oH mY gOD my HEART). I'm going through the books a bit slowly bc life stuff, but I have sooooo many thoughts and feelings and feel like I need to read lots of fic to work through it LOL. I would love it if you could rec me some (or tons of!) fics that wouldn't give me (m)any spoilers re: stuff that happens after this point in the series. I realize this might be a kind of hard/maybe impossible request because a lot of those spoilers would be referring to things that chronologically would have taken place prior to DM for instance, but I'm so starved I thought I might ask just in case! I'm not suuuper partial to any specific ships (Lestat/Louis is a bit boring IMO 😭 but I love them so I'll take it) and I don't have any NOTPs, so I'm down to read pretty much anything (esp if it's spicy and/or hurts my heart and/or features Armand lmao). Totally fine if this is too much trouble or if it turns out to be an impossible ask indeed; thank you in advance anyway! AND THANK YOU AGAIN for introducing me to these brain-rotting books lol I spend like half my waking hours thinking about Armand now.

SHGKJALDS I SPEND HALF MY WAKING HOURS THINKING ABOUT ARMAND TOO SINCE LIKE THE YEAR 2000 LMFAO im so glad you see!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU GET IT MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So babe tbh the reason I started writing Armand/Daniel fic at all is because there really ... isn't that much? And I was like GUESS I GOTTA FUCKIN COOK FOR MYSELF. So tbh I haven't actually read a ton of VC fic at all. The otp:true filter for them on AO3 (excluding TVverse fics) only has 237 fics hdkjgalds but you can start here LOL. I think for the most part you'll be able to tell in the tags if it's post-QOTD because people usually will tag like "post canon" or "Prince Lestat Era"; for QOTD fics check for a Devil's Minion/Devil's Minion Era tag. I don't always remember to tag my own fics but my only post-canon D/A fic is called "In the Trials of the Heart" and all my others are Devil's Minion era and shouldn't spoil anything ! Be aware that the TV fandom and book fandom sometimes overlap so there might be stray TV fics in the book tag; it won't spoil anything bc the TV canon is a completely different story, but it might not make sense if you jump in to read it. So without actual fic recs I'll share some authors that I really trust!! Have a look through their VC fics!!!!!!!

apoptoses (pervert extraordinaire 10/10, all the D/A fics are Devil's Minion era except for Blood Sanation so go nuts!) covenofthearticulate (this is Ash, she actually writes Loustat & Louis/Armand mostly but she's so smart and I trust her so much!!!!) Diabolus_Invictus HekateInHell (writes a lot of Lestat/Armand and also has a human AU called Our House that I'm obsessed with!) ImhereImQuire Nothing_But_Paisley rainandcoffee (if you're sick of all of our doom&gloom you can find fluff and lightness here!) whisperbird (just one VC fic but I think about it every day of my life I love it)

Whenever I remember I try to post VC fics that I do read, kinda like how Sheith fandom does Wednesday Fics, I try to tag #VCFicFriday so try there too!

Anyway if anyone wants to add to this post and share recs PLEASE DO I actually am not a great fic reader bc my attention span sucks and I'm picky about canon compliant porn LOL! But help our new friend out if you want to share any!!!!!!!!!!!!

[securityholograms]

I confess I am very curious. What would your ideal casting be for a DJKT production of Cabaret?

oh my god, first of all, I could yap about this for hours so thanks so much for the question! (edit after typing out a bit of it: it’s already very long i’m so so sorry)

For the casting itself, I’m mostly gonna ignore the vocal ranges because I don’t really know how deep or high the djkt people can go so take that with a grain of salt😭 and i’m going off of the characters that are currently in the production in Prague (so only one KitKat boy, but they could easily add “Victor” like some other productions have etc.)

Now the characters:

Emcee: You really need someone who’d be comfortable with the whole exhibitionist shtick and can carry the show on their back. I feel like Lukáš Ondruš could pull it off (it= being a creepy little guy) but my secret wish is Pavel R.😭the reasoning is just that I know he’d lowkey love the attention and he’s been getting all the /sexy leading man/ dudes lately, which is so valid for him, but I also kinda need more from him at this point and this would be it🙏🏻( # PavelForAFreak )

Sally: Naty Dvořáková would be great, after hearing her Mary Magdalene, I think her voice would suit sally really well and she’d drive the emotional ending home. If I wanted to give a leading role to someone who hasn’t gotten one in a while- Karolína Krausová, I really loved her in Píseň pro Ninu and this is in the same category (kind of).

bonus: If she hasn’t aged out of the role.. Soňa👉👈 she’s mother to me and this would fix me (or make me worse)

Cliff: Oh boy. this is a big one for me (clearly lmao) This might be an unpopular opinion but even though Cliff is kind of in the shadow of Sally and the MC, especially in the newest West End revival (soon a broadway revival) I really believe he’s the heart of the show, he’s the audience’s link to the characters, It’s who we relate to and who is, ultimately, the good guy. And so I think he’s kind of quietly what makes or breaks the show in the end (the emotional aspects of it at the very least)….

Ok, that was a long ass way of saying I’d obviously need Pavel Klimenda as Cliff ✨ He’s showed times and times again he’s really good at the “Am I gonna finish this or is it gonna finish me” sad boy agenda, so I think he’d easily pull it off and break all of our hearts along the way. BUT HERE’S where the real conundrum appears⬇️

Bobby: So if I assume we only get one kitkat boy, it’ll be Bobby. He’s the one who’s hooked up with Cliff in London and that affair kind of re-ignites when Cliff comes to Berlin. In the Prague production, Bobby’s wearing fishnets and heels (they’re HIGH heels) and I can’t really see who from djkt could slay in the same way Pavel Klimenda could. We’ve already seen him do the slightly more fem roles in Otřást vesmírem and Fun Home + he’s a great dancer, which works super well for Bobby.. Buuut he’s already my Cliff here so that’s kind of fucked and idrk what to do with this one😭😂

… ok, going back to Cliff, I think Dušan could do Cliff really well too (he has that sincerity about him when he wants to) so maybe i’ll change my answer to that so that it could actually work. And if I go even more crazy, Adam Rezner’s take on Cliff could be interesting🧐

Ernst: if I’m going off of the typecasting that djkt usually does(sorry ok), it’s Hruškoci and it’s not even close😭 My slightly more adventurous pick would be Pavel R., he needs to play a hatable character (that people don’t want to fuck) just once tbh and I think he’d appreciate the challenge.

Fräulein Schneider: (keeping this short) Stanislava Topinková Fořtová

Herr Schultz: hmmm i don’t know the older guys that well so i don’t have anything smart to say on this one 🥲

—

Alright so.. this is a fucking mess, if you’ve made it through to here, I applaud you. I do really hope that we’ll get to see it at some point, though🥲

[mazeinthemiroh]

Square Pants

Genre: San x Reader, crack, slight angst, essentially a chaotic mess

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, chaotic drunk behaviour, cursing

Requested?: Yes

Summary: You give San a tattoo when you are both drunk.

Author's Notes: I found this hilarious to write lmao anyways lemme know what you think. I'm not sure about the pacing of this one, whether it was too quick or not. Let me know your thoughts on that. Anways, hope you all have fun reading this!

"Just trust me, bro."

"Did you just call me bro??"

You and your boyfriend had recently tumbled back into the apartment you shared, both drunk off your faces from drinking the whole night. Currently, you were both in the bathroom, cackling with laughter at the situation you found yourselves in.

In your hand: a tattoo gun. You were a former tattoo artist, so you knew a thing or two about giving people tattoos. Or, at least, you did when you were sober. But being shitfaced and undertaking this task was something incredibly challenging (and extremely stupid, might I add).

"Just trust meeeeee" you groaned loudly, stumbling a bit where you stood. Apparently standing still wasn't an option you quite understood. And so, you unintentionally rocked backwards and forwards on your feet as you got the tattoo gun ready.

Your boyfriend sat waiting. He was perched up on the side of the bathtub, barely able to balance his own body even though he was sitting!

"I've done this a million times, Sannie" you say, not to reassure him but rather to brag about your past achievements. Whatever the intention, San was in another world of his own.

"I want Spongebob," he stated decisively.

"Spongebob?" You giggled hysterically at the idea, "you want me to tattoo Spongebob on you?"

"Yeah, and what's your point?" San questioned, pouting defensively now.

"Squidward is better," you stuck your tongue out. The tattoo gun was ready to use. "Where do you want it?"

San pretended to think, although really he was staring up at the ceiling and wondering what type of lightbulbs were used for the lights. LED? Halogen? Incandescent?

"What type of lightbulbs do we have?"

"Does it matter?" You questioned, your tone exasperated now, "Hurry up, I'm getting borrrreeed."

"Fine," he whined defeatedly, looking down from the fascinating lights that hung above him. "On my neck."

You rolled your eyes but didn't question it. And so, you got to work. San was used to the pain of getting a tattoo, since this wasn't his first time.

"I bet they are filament light bulbs," he said, his eyes now fixated back on the lights. You were perplexed as to why he found such an odd obsession, but you were too drunk to even care.

In no time at all, the tattoo had been done. San somehow sunk into the bathtub fully clothed, now passed out. Perhaps it was because of the pain. Perhaps it was because it was 2 am. Or, quite possibly, and more realistically, it was because having this amount of alcohol in him exhausted him.

So you left him to it. Leaving him in the bath, you chucked a towel on him so he wouldn't get cold and walked out, going into the living room and flopping onto the couch. Both of you snored, loudly.

And it was about 8 in the morning when San woke up. He blinked his eyes open a let out a low groan. His body ached so badly and he could barely keep his eyes open due to the light pouring into the bathroom.

And it was then that he realised where he was.

He opened his eyes fully and whisked his head around to see that he was in fact in a bathtub. He tumbled out of there reluctantly and made his way out of the bathroom and into the living room, where you lay on the couch, snoring your head off, as was the custom after a night out drinking.

San gazed at you and smiled lightly. These drunken nights happened all too often with you, and every instance shared some crazy story that you would both either agree to forget about, or forget about it through no will of your own. It was entirely down to fate. And by fate, of course, I mean the influence of alcohol. Same thing, really.

Knock, knock, knock.

San couldn't think who was at the door. He scrambled through his brain to grasp some actual, coherent thought, but found nothing but an empty void of half-written thoughts and glimmers of last night, not piecing anything together at all. And so he headed for the front door reluctantly, knowing you were still asleep even despite the loud knocks.

On the other side of the door revealed Wooyoung. Oh yeah, San thought, I forgot he was supposed to pick me up this morning.

"Sup," Wooyoung barged in, eyes glued to his phone, his mind already preoccupied, "you ready to go?"

"No," San held his head in one hand as he shut the front door with the other. This headache wasn't going to shake off anytime soon. "Lemme just pack my stuff, okay?"

"What's the matter with you," Wooyoung whined, now looking up from his phone. Only to drop it out of his hands.

"San, what the fuck!"

San looked perplexed at his friend, peaking over at him with strained eyes. Why the sudden outburst? What did he see? What did he know?

"What?" San looked at his friend, perplexed and impatient all at once.

He watched as his friend shrieked with laughter, gripping his stomach with the amount of hilarity he found the situation to be in. San groaned and held his head again, "can you shut up, my head hurts." But all he got in return was a louder, obnoxious laugh. Was he doing this on purpose?

"Oh my gosh," Wooyoung wiped a stray tear away from the effort of laughing, "Hongjoong is going to absolutely kill you."

"What?" San's heart dropped, his mind blurry when envisioning Hongjoong's stern disapproving face about something he didn't know he had done. "What did I do? What is it??"

Wooyoung looked at his friend in disbelief and snorted, "go to the bathroom and have a look at yourself."

You woke up to a loud shout coming from the bathroom area. Your hair was a mess and all over your face as you rolled off of the couch, cocooned in a blanket that covered your whole body. You had one eye open and one eye shut as you walked over to the bathroom, seeing Wooyoung leaning again the door frame intently.

"What's happened?" You mumbled weakly, disorientated from having woken up not seconds ago. On peaking into the bathroom, your blanket dropped from around you, and now both of your eyes were open and wide with shock.

"Oh my god."

Wooyoung quirked his eyebrow up in amusement as you made your way over to your boyfriend, who stared at his newly tattooed neck in disbelief.

"Well, you two clearly can't be trusted alone if this is what you get up to," Wooyoung looked at his nails casually while his friend stared in disbelief at the mirror in front of him.

"I have to go on stage in 5 hours and I have a Spongebob tattoo on my neck," San said, unnervingly calm now. There was nothing more he could do but stare, but all he wanted to do was cry.

"I mean," you started, "to be fair... I did a pretty good job."

San whisked his head over at you aggressively, making you take a step back.

"I agree," Wooyoung chimed in, "for a person who was drunk off their mind, your hand was very steady. Spongebob definitely has square pants." You managed to stifle a laugh.

"Neither of you are helping," San cried as he angled his head to see more of his neck before wincing at the sight.

Sprinting to your bedroom, you grabbed all the makeup you could. With the help of Wooyoung and the slow acceptance of San, he remained still while the both of you got to work on his neck. No amount of concealer was ever going to cover the tattoo fully, but it did help with the appearance, at least.

"That's all we can do for now," you pulled away having a look at his neck for one last time, "your makeup artists will have to work their magic to make it invisible."

San groaned again at the thought of Hongjoong's face of horror and anger, which was much more clearer in his mind now. "I'll get kicked out of the group and become an old maid."

You rolled your eyes, "no you won't silly." You both looked at Wooyoung's grinning face as he put away the makeup products.

"I'm glad you find this funny, Woo," San shook his head disapprovingly, giving him a playful punch on the arm.

"Don't worry," you whispered in your boyfriend's ear as the three of you neared the front door to leave, "I'll give him a tattoo next time."

[doodlesfromthebird]

Hi!! I hope you're having a great day/night/afternoon!! I used to watch your OC videos all the time when I was younger!! Glad to see you uploading on YouTube again, and I loved your Kai video!! I was wondering if you have any tips (or tricks) for character ref sheets, as I'm currently developing one for an OC of mine! I already have a backstory, a color palette, as well as references, but I'm not sure how to go from there. The character themself (as in like body size), clothing designs, accessories, the placement of everything on the ref sheet? You, of course, don't have to reply to this, but any comments would help!!

Hi! Thanks so much for watching my videos! I think this is a fantastic question. I love making character sheets, and I'd do them a lot more often if they weren't so time consuming. (Though, they don't have to be -- I think its a me problem lol!) But they're SUPER handy both for whoever you may commission to draw them, and yourself if said character has a detail heavy design. Even if this character sheet is just for you, I think it's fun to look at it from the perspective of a hypothetical someone who desires to cosplay (or draw or 3D model) your character and needs a sheet in which to ref from! What things do you think they'd need? I absolutely recommend making a few notes of what you want to spotlight, and doing some thumbnails on how you want to section things out. (they don't have to be this neat, like, AT ALL lmao)

What angles would be helpful to see? What particular accessories would someone value a closer a closer look at?

These refs of Kai and Samos are a little old now, but I don't consider them out of date even though there's a few things I'd change! Here I have a fairly clear idea of what both characters look like from the front and back, while highlighting important stuff like Samos' front pockets' which are partially covered by the sash. If you have the room, you could even add things like extra props/accessories to give the artists you potential commission things to have your OC interact with. Or! facial expressions to give them a good visual of their personality.

As for extra clothing designs I'd make a separate sheets using a premade character base and play dress up with them like a paper doll.

If there's a detail heavy prop the OC in question has on them frequently (like a satchel or a weapon) a mini ref sheet just for that thing might be useful! You could showcase all the pockets in a bag or how magic looks being casted out of a staff. I hope any of this was helpful! I wouldn't get too caught up in aesthetics or the structure of the sheet, because you'll get a feel for that as you work. If you enjoy doing it, and find it worth your while to invest more time in, make multiple sheets! Of the stuff they keep in their bag, what their favorite foods are, likes and dislikes, hairstyles, ect. Even if it stops being a ref for art, it's fun to just have more visuals to learn about a character.

[tormiichu]

CW: there is a picture of a spider, so if creepy crawlies disturb you, i'm very sorry 😔😔

Ok so

I'm currently drawing Black Butler characters as animals (honestly, just trying to see if I can use my old furry art skills to draw something that isn't human lol)

Me and @sketchyprincey have this rp au where reapers, demons, and angels can all turn into animals, so I'm gonna be drawing some of his designs too! We made them originally on ponytown when I first joined the black butler fandom back in early 2023, but I wanna try to draw them too.

So far we have:

Grelle: one of these floofy cats. Can you tell that I loved cheshire cat grelle in the OVA.

Othello: idk what these are called but this was my friend's idea for othello's animal form :D I find it so funny that othello is so much smaller than the undertaker until they turn into their animal forms...

Ronald: he's a golden retriever ♡ ronald is just a baby ok. He's Grelle's golden retriever friend ok

William: you can't tell me that doesn't look like him. Like....that MIGHT be William T Spears. I'm just saying, I haven't seen William T Spears and this owl in the same room together before. 🤔

Undertaker: I took the silver fox comment that othello made to heart ok. Like I said with othello's animal form, it's so funny that undertaker is so much taller than othello until he poofs into a fox. Also, when foxes gecker, it sounds like laughing, which is fitting! :)

Sebastian: he's a raven :D purely cuz it was hinted a lot in the anime. I like the idea of Sebastian having black feathery wings. (also this means sebastian eats worms. Have fun with that information.)

Claude: a fluffy spider :333 I hate spiders, but I love claude, so I tried to find the cutiest patootiest spider that I could find. He's a fluffy butler with more than enough legs.

Ash and Angela: I've recently started to really like Ash as a character 💀 so I figured I should add these two sillies. I wasn't sure whether I'd make them into doves or swans. I searched up meanings of both, and I think doves suits them better, but here's a pic of our options! Plz let me know what you think suits them better. ^_^

Also, on the topic of these two...I just remembered that this scene is a thing...

I think this leans towards doves more than swans since they look so small in that nest lmao🕊🕊

(I don't think I've ever successfully drawn a bird before, so wish me luck on like 4 of these drawings HWCWHWFHW)

[nakanotamu]

Okay so this is the post about the Stardom stuff going on Right Now. I was gonna put my personal thoughts here too but lmao joke's on me even just this got long enough as well. Honestly I'm glad I waited to actually say anything because Rossy and Bushiroad both ended up talking about it pretty publicly so there's really not that much to speculate on any more. If you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, here's the background post about the past few months/year in Stardom and my own personal thoughts about everything are here.

So, wow. I spent a lot of last year joking "Stardom fire your entire office 2k24", really was not expecting them to actually take me up on it! Bushiroad fire Kidani as well 2k24??? idk if they even can I think he might control too much of the company but I may as well keep swinging while I can

So yeah, apparently immediately after the Osaka PPV last Sunday, February 4th, Bushiroad fired Rossy. On a practical level this isn't really a big change - as I've said before, Rossy was off of booking and apparently not even being listened to since last April at least already, this isn't a huge shake up of Stardom management. What IS a huge shakeup is why.

Bushiroad said they fired Rossy because he was poaching wrestlers & staff from Stardom. Rossy denies this, but has confirmed he is starting a new promotion. Which, first and foremost from me, I'm glad we can immediately put the WWE rumours to bed. Rossy says he told Bushiroad in November that he would not re-sign his contract with them in March since he wasn't being listened to anyway and told the staff and some wrestlers this and that he was thinking of starting a new promotion. Bushiroad claims he was deliberately poaching from them. Honestly, given the state of Bushiroad management, I could absolutely see them just being completely caught off guard by how many of the roster want to leave and freaking out, but we'll probably never know the truth of the matter.

It is confirmed that some of the Stardom roster are not re-signing with Stardom and are planning to join Rossy's new promotion. Bushiroad came out and openly said that, including some top names and even current title holders. That a number of people will be leaving is for sure happening. We do know for sure Mayu is the only person definitely contracted to Bushiroad later than March, as the movie about her comes out in May, but it seems likely she leaves after that. EDIT to add that a couple days later Tam said openly that she is staying with Stardom as well but I'm not gonna keep updating this every time someone says something new. Anything beyond that about who exactly is leaving or how many is pure speculation. I've seen everything from only one or two people leaving to close to a 50/50 split to only one or two people staying. We'll know in a month or two.

I think it's also worth remembering while WON is writing about this however much and the dirtsheets run with things, their source is Literally Just Sonny, who we already know to be both unreliable and Rossy's biggest cheerleader. It doesn't even seem like the wrestlers actually talk to him about it or anything, he just Works There, and more than once he's passed on some story that's gotten out just to then pass on that so-and-so was so mad it got out, on top of the stuff he's just flat wrong about. It just seems like he has a deep need to be An Insider, the kind of guy who actually gets a job in wrestling and uses that for reddit clout, so keep in mind that that's where all of the english "scoops" are coming from. The news for the next however long it's coming solely from him is going to be sensationalized, decidedly anti-Bushiroad and pro-Rossy, and probably try and throw at least a few of the wrestlers who do stay with Stardom under the bus, because that's his MO and we've seen it all before from him. So like, just as usual take everything with the biggest grain of salt you can manage.

[throwaway-yandere]

!!!Yandere Genshin/Reader 2.5k Follows Mini-Event: Secret Penpals (Masterlist)!!!

cw: contains yandere themes, including stalking, possessive behavior, etc. do not engage if you’re sensitive to the topics mentioned. prioritize your mental health first, you matter.   

Time remaining: █ days, █ hours, █ minutes (closed!!! please wait until Thoma delivers all the letters &lt;3)

✧ Inazuma is currently holding another Irodori Festival and the Yashiro Commission and Yae Publishing House has a secret pen pal service going on... Perhaps you should write a letter and hand it over to Ms. Hina! Who knows, maybe you'll find another Paimon!

Possible Rewards: A new friend : )

“How is the list, Gorou?”

“Well, I got the names of some of the penpals. We got Always-So-Busy Sakabashira, Widower Momiji, A Headless Knight, Calx, and a couple more weird and whimsical names… There’s like… around 10 or something.”

“Ah, I see, Sakabashira is █████ isn’t it– wait, even Calx is joining? Isn’t he a Mondstadter?”

“Aren’t you one too? Now that you mention it, there’s a couple of foreigners joining this event– we even got someone from Snezhnaya.” 

“Haha, where do you think Blue Eyes White Dragon could be from? Betting on Liyue.”

“Hmm… I have a hunch that they’re from Fontaine...”

“But what if they’re yokai, though?”

...

“... Do yokais play TCG?”

"... I know Itto does…"

[match-up event guidelines under the cut]

—-------

SALUTATIONS! Mx. Ansy here– thank you so much for the 2k follows! I don’t celebrate White Days so this will be the reason why this event exists. No clue why that happened, but for the celebration’s sake, here’s a mini event as my thanks!!! (Even though it’s long overdue since I’m at 2.5k hahahaha…) 

Thank you to everyone that followed, liked, left comments (omg), reblogged, etc. ILYSM!!!! <3 (Don’t worry, I’m still working on the idol au ehe. I need you all to know about music composer!Tighnari’s mental fatigue.)

Here are the event guidelines and an example of how this works provided by “Ms. Hina” and “Fixer”!

Event Guidelines ✥:

NO NSFW MESSAGES. (Please remember someone is writing behind all this lmao. I’m asexual so my humblest apologies.)

Feel free to go nuts with your pen pal's name! No need to use the word “anon”. As long as you kept your identity a secret, you’re safe! There’s no real rule, just make sure it’s not longer than 6 words. 

Why is six words the maximum? Well… My best friend, Fried Tofu With All The Frills, “suggested” that it’s better that way…

Remember who runs this event behind the screen. Expect stalkers, monsters, etc. to respond to your letter.

You don't know who your pen pal is. Don't name who the receiver of your letter is. This is luck-based, and if I'm feeling like a gremlin I might just send your letter to Reckless Pallad if you do this lol. 

As the event name suggests: some might get villain NPCs & non-yandere character/s. Welcome back to another round of RNG if you aren’t already fricking tired from artifact grinding.

Only one penpal per person. No repeats. Every time I do an event, the yanderes are loyal.

Are you reading the guidelines? Good. Take note of this specific instruction or else I won’t add your letter to the event registration: greet your pen pal with a “Happy Irodori Festival!” or anything similar. That’s how I’ll know you’ve read everything.

Your letter could be around 200 words max but don’t feel forced to hit that threshold haha. Talk about whatever you want then send it in this blog’s ask box! I’ll pass it on to Ms. Hina or Fixer ♡

The response you’ll receive varies, but expect a minimum word count of at least 100 (some characters just won't write long). Hard to fit things with a single letter. Maybe your pen pal would be desperate enough to write 2 pages on their first reply. But don’t count on it. I’m trying my best to give out short replies to this event. The last idol event had 2k-6k word counts (when my plan was 1.8k max). This is me trying my best to exercise self-control lolololol.

Every letter is made on Canva. Huge shoutout to that website for carrying my SHS career and this event because I have S-tier garbage handwriting.

Also, a huge shoutout to @/watatsumiis! General inspired me to do this event, so please check his works if you want to read fluffy fics that’ll make you giggle! He provides such amazing brain rots, I swear. Unlike this gremlin right here, he’s wonderful and wholesome both as a writer and a person.

Well then, time for an example! Please copy Ms. Hina’s lead when you write your letter &lt;3

Tutorial/Example ✥:

“Dear Secret Penpal,

Happy Irodori festival! My name is Miss Hina, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I know that festivals tend to make everyone exhausted, so whoever this letter is addressed to, I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Remember to eat and drink water regularly! Even when to be honest, I already know who you are. I’m not great at talking about myself, but if anything is troubling you, don’t keep it all muzzled up inside.

- Ms. Hina”

The “penpal”’s reply (example only!!!):

Hmm, wonder who that could be? /s

Have fun!!! Happy Irodori Festival!!! (even though it’s windblume rn. I just can’t think of a book-based genshin event so lol here’s an advanced irodori patch for everyone.)

List of penpals/Masterlist:

SOME ARE CURRENTLY A SECRET

Don't get too cocky, though. Some of them aren't who you think they are ehe

"Calx" - Luthien

"Deshret" - Lisa

"Blue Eyes White Dragon" - ????

"Always-So-Busy Sakabashira" - Second Hand Of Time

"A Headless Knight" - Choco Found In Puppy's Tummy

"Widower Momiji" - Starlight

"Big Ears" - Honey On A Stick

"Fixer" - Tofu

"Fratello" - ????

No name - Vermiculis Creatio

No name - ????