#why are all my posts so long i'm so sorry

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,

some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[joannasteez]

strong!

pairing: roman reigns x black reader warning: explicit sexual content after the "read more". degradation and pain kinks! talks of roman losing the undisputed title (a sore spot for some of you lol) authors: fic based on this post. nothing else really. give it a like, a reblog and a comment. let me know what you think! word count: 1300 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @spritelucozade (others who have been asked to be tagged, your tag wasn’t popping up. not sure why)

the shameless scent of iron bothers him. blood about his nose. smearing through the delicate trim of his mustache. the cultivation of such a great mountain of hubris, shattered. undone and red, dripping easy to taint his tongue. 

the roar of the crowd deafens his ears. his skin slippery from sweat and his muscles tight with pain from the labor of a great defending and the cold. he lays there, pinned and defeated. a rapturous celebration about him, bright and lively but not for him. his stomach twisting sickly. 

the walk is long and silent. his ears ringing and split with an inward disdain. you sit comfortably in his dressing room. a disinterest in your eyes that sinks his heart. and all the words that refuse to pass through such pretty lips speak sharply to him still, through distinctive cuts about his face and taut reddened skin. an examination of him filled with pity. roman's stomach flips again, disturbed. he shuffles to a chair. breathy and his body loosely plopping against the seat. wallowing. you won't speak and he's wallowing. he feels bile in his throat. his eyes squeezing. an unceremonious rise before it falls back to the pit of his stomach. 

a tissue paper tears. wet and dabbing at where he bleeds. your eyes falling over him as you stand between the wide stretch of his legs. 

"you're bleeding...", you state. fingers curling in viciously to hold his jaw still, a harsh maneuvering that forces his eyes to meet you. softly dabbing stains of blood caked in his mustache still. the contrast making him weary. lightheaded. "...and without a title. what do you have to say for yourself?"

a ball forms in his throat. feverish heat over his skin. a stabbing pain behind the eyes that makes him bristle silently. of all the times to be so recklessly emotional. why now? why here? under such a thick blanket of silence and the scrutiny of your gaze. he was strong. he's still strong! so why does this feel like a great diminishing. a breaking from which he can not return whole again. your grip growing tighter. nails warring against the tenderness of overly worked skin. a stinging behind the thickness of his beard. water pooling steadily in his eyes. 

small and defeated. barely registrable. "i'm sorry". 

you near. perfume sweetening the iron scent in his nose. your breath warm over him. "speak. clearly". 

"im sorry", roman chokes. the syllables awkward and new off his tongue. 

a mirthless smile takes your lips. forming more and more disgusted by the second. "are you crying?", words like nails screwing into him. feeling worser than simple little drips of blood. "if you're gonna lose, at least do it well". 

you discard the tissue. stalk back to him with less venom in your eyes. taking his face to hold in your hands. the warmth in your palms uncomfortable. a cross examination done by the slipping over of your stare. an appraisal. your thumbs running over the freckled apple of his cheeks to assess. not to dote. like the inspection of a beaten trophy, to gauge how much he'd fallen into lack luster. your knee slips in to rest between the thick stretch of his thighs, pressing firm into the unsoftened way of his crotch. a slim sort of panic undulating over his skin. remembering the pierce in of your nails. the stinging it brought his skin. he much prefer that than you holding him with such fragility.

he was strong. he is strong! he can bare the pain. he was made to last. 

"my pitiful little loser", you tease. kissing along his face. a trail from his forehead down till you rest soft lips at the corner of his mouth. never giving him the satisfaction. giggling in his ear. 

the tips of his ears grow warm. probably red. "don't say that", he breaks. voice horse and tired. groaning as you take his face to grip again. the feed in of it into his skin tightening the space in his tactical cargo pants. 

"why?", fingers combing through wild hair to rough backwards. leaning over him. knee roughed into the ache of his dick. the spinning chair singing with a short creak as the back of it bends to take the weight of both your bodies. "that's what you are no? or are my eyes and ears mistaken? is your name cody rhodes?" 

soft pretty lips around another mans name. his chest tight. his breath heavy. panicked and vexed and excited. "don't say his-"

your knee presses in. forcing a grunt from his chest. your eyelashes fanning beautiful as your lips twist scornfully. "you don't have ground to stand on..", the seam of your lips faint over his. "...to tell me who i can and can't evoke. four years of good work", the displeasure rife on your tongue. "great work, gone because of some petulant playground bullshit revenge. are you happy with yourself at least?" 

roman feels high. like he can barely breathe. stomach coiling steady with a burning sort of ache. hands tingling with need. resigned to touching the handles of the chair instead. 

"no", he gives. a whisper. 

your brows pull. disbelief. your body standing straighter, your knee still pressed into him. his hips canting with ill-control. desperate for friction. "no?", your hand mushing his head. "no?!", sharper. angrier. "you did all that shit with a steal chair and you're not even happy? real shameful shit". 

roman's naked chest rises and falls. heavy breaths and pleading eyes. his pants too tight now for comfort. stomach twisting about horribly. his cock throbbing in his pants. 

your fingers slip delicate over his zipper. a slow release of it along with the buttons. the warmth in your hand gracious as you reach and fondle your way in his underwear. seeking the hard heat of him with your knee still pressed into his balls. his eyes dim and weary. "maybe the top of the mountain was too high for you", you give. an easy go of words at the corner of his mouth. a slight tremble in him as he spits over your hand, feeling you work him thoroughly with a sweet twisting in your wrist. "maybe winning for so long was too much", voice pitying. babied and teasing. like he was small and unfit. "you rather suffer without a crown, than bare the weight". 

a string of spit from your lips to the reddened tip of his cock makes a greater mess of him. the grip in your palm tighter by the second. warm and unrelenting. the base of his core nearly undone. 

"its easier being a coward than enduring".

his head shakes. he was strong. he is strong! perfectly made to endure. "i held it for four years". 

you laugh. he moans. his jaw lax and his muscles burning. "and now you're a loser", your thumb circling sweetly at his tip. his hips awkwardly rocking into the press of your knee. "the people saw you bleed. they saw you fail. main event status revoked". 

his fingers grow more weary. for the title. for a microphone to plead his case. for the supple touch of your skin. anything but the cold metal of this chair. 

"need to touch you". he pleads. desperate. nearly undone. 

"you don't deserve it", you clip. nearly kissing him. he can feel it. the hesitation of your lips. full and soft. hovering over dangerously. "be happy i'm giving you this". 

"please".

his spine throbs hard. a harsh rut in his hips as you stroke him tight. 

"you gonna finish? or is that gonna be a dud too".

and the relief is sweet. an unloading of his shoulders. bursting and full of heat as he comes against your hand. "go ahead", you relent. and his arms work swiftly. embracing your body as his damp face falls into your belly. lightly trembling. groans tumbling off his lips. 

he was strong. 1300 plus days. he is strong! made to last. 

[sulumuns-dootah]

NSFW Alphabet - Leviathan

༺☆༻

A/N: Sorry this took a long time. Been a busy and chaotic past month, but I'm working on things so hopefully they'll be ready to post soon. Also, Levi isn't exactly my favorite so I had hard time analyzing and accounting for all the lore we have so far.

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

༺☆༻

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

If you had an intense encounter, you'd both need it, which is why he calls for his servants to come and care for the both of you. Otherwise, he doesn't mind to do some extra steps to get you comfortable.

༺☆༻

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

Our nice piece of ass loves your neck. The loyalty noose would look amazing around it. Or maybe his hands?

༺☆༻

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

I'd say his cum tastes like caviar. He's technically a fish too, after all. Definitely the king whose cum I'd enjoy the least. It's also not as opaque, but with a slight shimmer.

༺☆༻

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

While he's having some me-time, sometimes he puts on a noose around his neck and orders himself to hang.

༺☆༻

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

With how rarely he trusts anyone, I'd say he barely has any. He gets the gist, knows many positions, but hasn't tried out most of them.

༺☆༻

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position, really. As long as you're strangling him hard enough, he doesn't care.

༺☆༻

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

No jokes here. In fact, no jokes ever. Besides like some special circumstances.

༺☆༻

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

Perfectly silky smooth like the rest of him. There's no room for imperfection.

༺☆༻

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

If he's bedding you, you're already doing something right. I imagine him being super vulnerable figuratively as well as literally with the strangling and all.

༺☆༻

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His main source of getting off. He can't even remember the last time he's slept with someone. Once you're in the picture, however, that immediately changes and his hands focus onto you.

༺☆༻

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Beside the obvious breath control and getting beat up, he also strikes me as the type that would be into voyeurism as in getting watched fucking someone.

༺☆༻

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Public places are out of the question. The safety of his castle is the only place where he allows himself to get loose.

༺☆༻

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

Jealousy, of course. But also public humiliation as long as he sees you as more than just his subject.

༺☆༻

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

Share a partner. He'd get too jealous and possessive. Unless, of course, you tie him up as a punishment. HE would actually enjoy that.

༺☆༻

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

Force him to go down on you and you'll have one of the best orgasms ever. In giving-head-contest he'd come close second (only beaten by the pussy devourer fly boy). While giving him head, he'd get super whiny and needy. Tease him and he'll lose his mind.

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

There's two ways Levi can go. Either he's downright lovemaking with you or the bedroom is a whole ass battlefield.

༺☆༻

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

Actually, thinking about the location again... I wanted to say that why have quickies when you're at his castle and have all the time in the world, but thinking about it, If the need arises and you're not in his chambers, he would definitely use his coffin to have a quickie with his partner.

༺☆༻

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

Depending on the risk. He wouldn't mind seeing how long you can hang from the noose, but wouldn't try and introduce lovecraftian horrors in the bedroom.

༺☆༻

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

Leviathan's energy is stored in that juicy ass of his and boy, can he go for long time. The thing is, that he will, however, start complaining that he's tired and that you have to do the rest yourself.

༺☆༻

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

Levi doesn't really strike me as the type to use toys. His imagination is enough for him. In my mind he's more old fashioned and all these different toys are just a riffraff for him. (Meaning he's too shy to buy some and would be afraid to get caught using them.)

༺☆༻

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh this man *italian hand motion* loves to tease, but the moment you tease back you have no time to react before you're hanging from the ceiling.

༺☆༻

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

Whimpers. This man whimpers and it's the best thing you've ever heard (besides Beel's purring). How loud, depends on the situation. If you're on the bottom, some might escape him. But if you're on top, oh boy, all the demons in the surrounding chambers know.

༺☆༻

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

Actually, not a hc, but more of an analysis of his H scene that I really want to talk about? Okay, so Levi makes it really obvious that he wants to be beaten and straight up just abused. This just screams to me a trauma response, which is extremely sad to me. The amount of abuse he had to endure to the point where his mind equates it to pleasure just so he doesn't go bonkers?

༺☆༻

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

Once again, if you have the Erolabs version, you're lucky to see his sausage in the game itself. I personally agree with the ingame depiction of Levi's dick (unlike certain pierced someone's).

༺☆༻

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

Actually, piggybacking off the wild card analysis, I think Levi can go anytime all the time. One of trauma responses tends to be hypersexuality (but I'm not a professional psychologist, so don't take my word for it). We even know about it from the Halloween event where Minhyeok says that Levi looks like he's in the mood despite fighting off angels.

༺☆༻

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not really a sleep I'd say, but he wouldn't mind snuggling up after some exhausting workout. Just don't get too used to it since he's too busy.

[romancefranaticstay]

・❥・Matching・❥・

Han x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff, smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sorry that i didn't post for a while, but i didn't had any inspiration. Now i have many stories in mine head i want to share with you all!

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀�� ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

You and Han were in a friendgroup, which was very choatic. You two knew eachother for many years and also your friendgroup. But when you guys started dating, you didn't want to tell them. Because they would be dramatic, constantly kinda 'bullying' you two because of 'love' if you understand what i mean. Maybe you should have told them you were alreaddy dating Han Jisung...

The entire friendgroup was sitting in a very popular kind of cafe (you could say.) Many young people who were single came here. Ofcourse you all came here to, because you were obviously 'singel'.

You were sitting at the usual spot. You were sitting infront of Han, just looking at eachother. Letting your feet touch his. His dark staring made you giggle behind your menu card. It was weird your friends didn't notice yet.

'I am going to take some sprite.'

'Yeah me to.'

'I will get an coca-cola.'

'For me a Tonic, because i am not as childish as you.'

'Cool for you, Yoongi, cool for you.'

'What do you guys want, Han? Y/N?'

'Yeah for me also sprite.' Han said.

'For me just water.'

"Who's going to get it?"

"Can't we just wait, it won't take long."

"It will be much shorter if someone gets up now."

"I'll do it." you sighed.

'So three sprites for Han, Hanni and Jin. 1 Coca-Cola for Lisa, a tonic for Yoongi and water for me. Okay I got it.'

You stepped towards the bar, you could still hear your friends chatting behind you. The bar was quite large, with a lot of people sitting there. A young man came to you from behind the bar.

"What could it be, young lady."

'Three sprites, 2 colas, 1 tonic and 1 water.'

'I bet the water is for you.'

'Yeah, how come?'

'Your face is as clear as water.'

Your cheeks took on a slight tint. You didn't really know how to answer this.

'Thank you.'

You've heard a bit about this guy, apparently his name was Yeonjun. He wasn't much of a flirt, so you were surprised that he flirted with you. Han glanced somewhere towards the bar, where you were standing. He found the man annoying, he revolved around you. He clicked his jaw.

"It's a lot of drinks." Yeonjun said.

'Yes, there are a lot of us.'

'Will it work?'

'I hope so.'

You already grabbed three glasses in your hands.

"Let me help you."

he picked up his plate and placed the drinks on it.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Yeonjun walked behind you with the drinks. Your friends were still deep in conversation, only Han saw you coming.

"I'm here, actually we."

Yeonjun placed all the drinks on the table.

'Thank you.'

'My pleasure young lady.'

He walked slowly back to the bar. You placed yourself next to Hanni again (in front of Han).

"Didn't you see him flirting with you?"

'Really?'

You knew he was flirting with you, but you weren't interested.

"You're clearly blind."

'Yes probably.'

"You know, ask for his number." Lisa said.

'Why?'

'He's cute, handsome and he's big. He can flirt.'

'Yeah so?'

Han looked at you with a dark look. He was dark.

"You two would be really cute together."

You looked briefly at Han, his teeth were gritted. He didn't want to look at your eyes right now.

'No thanks.'

"Think about it, okay?" Hanni said.

'Yeah sure.' you said sarcastically.

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

After fifteen minutes your group of friends left. You guys went to the skate park and hung out there. You were loud again, shouting and giggling. It was nice, but you could tell that Han was very quiet today. You felt guilty for a reason.

"I'm going home, I'm not feeling so well." Han said suddenly.

"Should someone come with you?"

'Should I come?' you asked.

'No, no, I'm going...I'll go alone. Bye everyone.'

Everyone looked at each other a little strangely. Yoongi thought it was the weirdest. Because he always suspected that something was going on between you and Han. And not just because you're roommates...

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . .

You walked home fairly quickly once everyone had already gone home. You were actually running. Street after street. Right and left. You opened the door and saw Han sitting on the couch. He was watching a series.

"Hey."

He turned his head so he was looking in your direction.

"Hey."

You stepped towards him and plopped down on the couch. His eyes were glued to the TV again.

"Han, is everything okay?"

'Yes.'

he wasn't looking at you.

"Han... are you sure?"

'Yes.'

You turned his head towards you, his head between your hands.

"Han... tell the truth."

"Are you guys really cute together?"

"We're cute together, not me and him."

His puppy eyes looked in your direction.

'Do you think that?'

'Yes, oh Han. You are the only one, you will remain the only one forever.'

Your thumbs caressed his cheeks.

'I love you Hani, I love you so much. Don't you know?'

He suddenly grabbed your legs and dragged you under him.

'Mmm, I know that. Lucky for you, that I love you to.'

He lowered himself to get a touch from your lips. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth. You ruffled his hair.

“Gosh Y/N, I love you.” he moaned.

His hands touching every part of your body. He pulled his shirt over his head. His lips immediately went to your neck, licking in circles. He bit and nibbled on your sensitive skin. Your hands went to his pants, you took off his belt with one motion. Your hands pulled down his underwear. His cock was already hard, pumping full with blood. You started to stroke his cock slowly. Whimpers fell from his mouth. His hands went under your blouse. He cupped your breasts, he slowly started to massage them.

"Oh Han." you moaned.

You could already feel yourself being wet. Your underwear felt wet.

'You like that, don't you baby.'

One of his hands started to slip down. You felt his fingers moving from your breasts closer to your weakest spot.His hand slid into your underwear. His index finger slid through your wet folds. You whined softly. Then another finger slid in. He started pumping in and out of you very slowly. You clung to his arm. You nibbled his ear playfully. You felt your legs wobble. You felt yourself coming. You clung tighter to his arm. Your nails dug into his back. He started to go faster, hearing your moans in his ears. You came with a moan and rested your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair gently before laying you on your back. He pulled down your panties. Your legs were already spread. He positioned himself at your entrance. Your hands interwined with his. You were already used to making love to him, so the stretch didn't hurt.

He started to move slowly inside you. His eyes never left yours. He held your hands, he kissed them. You loved his touch. Han loved seeing you underneath him. Your eyes always looked up at him. You looked like a Goddess. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow and tender kiss. He brought your hand to the bottom of your stomach. You felt his length hidden deep within you.

'You feel that?' Han panted.

'Yeah, I feel it.'

Your whole body was sweaty from the heat. The room had a sort of sex atmosphere. Suddenly Han started to push himself into you very quickly. It got you back and forth on the couch. Han felt his orgasm coming, so did you. He thrust into you with a fast pace. Your nails dug into his sweaty back. You arrived at the same time. Han propped himself up on his arms so his body didn't crush you. He took you in his arms. Your arms embraced his body.

"I love you Han."

you whispered before falling asleep.

“I love you too Y/N.”

. . . . . ╰──╮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ╭──╯ . . . . .

[soupdeewoop]

why (in my mind) down bad is Remus Lupin's song

[Verse 1]

Did you really beam me up In a cloud of sparkling dust i like to think that this part is when like (based on atyd) when Dumbledore comes and enrolls remus at hogwarts, and takes him to this place that is so new and sparkling to him.

Just to do experiments on? Tell me I was the chosen one so this is also about Dumbledore. i mean if you've been in the fandom long enough we know that Dumbledore isn't exactly a great person like he's deemed to be. i like how this line includes "chosen one" bc harry (obviously). it just goes to show how Dumbledore has done the same bads things for two generations of people.

Showed me that this world is bigger than us Then sent me back where I came from going back to atyd (i haven't finished atyd and not everything i say here is gonna be about it btw), remus being exposed to hogwarts and being (somewhat) happy i what i connect this line to. he came from a place of loneliness, to hogwarts, and then the war, and back to not having anyone around.

[Pre-Chorus]

For a moment, I knew cosmic love hogwarts. the marauders. sirius. yeah.

[Chorus]

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym lol fuck my man probably doesn't go the gym but it does make sense for him to cry at the most random places yk? he's lost the people he loves

Everything comes out teenage petulance i feel like a lot of people would definitely become petty and like "ugh whatever" kinda attitude. after losing so many people, i mean, is there even a point to even think rationally? it might not be correct, but does it matter?

"Fuck it if I can't have him" "I might just die, it would make no difference" remus has felt this way throughout so much, i mean, should we be supreised? cause i think not. i feel like the "him" is sirius, cause he did have him back but then he DIED, so remus is just like "wtf wtf wtf why cant i just HAVE HIM you gave him to me BACK! ykw, i might just die it would make no difference"

Down bad, wakin' up in blood Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up I'm sorry but he is a werewolf sadly. he wakes up in blood. ALONE THO. it makes sense for him to stare at the sky (maybe looking it the sirius start mayhaps?) and being like "PICK ME UP PLEASE"

Fuck it if I can't have us I might just not get up, I might stay

[Post-Chorus]

Down bad Fuck it if I can't have him Down bad Fuck it if I can't have him i (don't like) to think how he would just be on the floor after his transformation, down bad on the floor, "fuck it if i cant have him here next to me, helping me" "i could just stay here, there's no point in getting up"

[Verse 2]

Did you take all my old clothes Just to leave me here, naked and alone i mean, sirius stealing moonys sweaters and clothes is one of my favorite things, but in this context, he dint only steal that. he stole everything. his clothes, his sense of belonging, his whole fucking soul basically. and then he left him forever.

In a field in my same old town That somehow seems so hollow now? i mean this town can literally mean HIS TOWN or maybe even hogwarts? imagine how bad it must have been for him when he went to hogwarts as a teacher, the hallowness in his heart there without everybody he's known and loved for years.

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about The existence of you um well sirius is in azkabhan. yeah.

[Pre-Chorus]

For a moment, I was heavenstruck he was heavenstruck, sirius was moonystruck

[Chorus]

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym) Everything comes out teenage petulance "Fuck it if I can't have him" (Fuck it if I can't have him) "I might just die, it would make no difference" Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood) Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up Fuck it if I can't have us I might just not get up, I might stay

[Post-Chorus]

Down bad (Like I lost my twin) i like how this one says "like i lost my twin" cause i feel like wolfstar are soulmates argue to the fucking wall. in my mind they're not opposite but not exactly the same. kinda like two sides on the same coin yk?

Fuck it if I can't have him (Down bad) Down bad (Wavin' at the ship) Fuck it if I can't have him

[Bridge]

I loved your hostile takeovers Encounters closer and closer after sirius escaping, maybe they did try to get back together? their encounters, where sirus gets "closer and closer". slowly but surely.

All your indecent exposures How dare you say that it's— their "indecent exposures" being at hogwarts. the love and affection. maybe sometimes being indecently exposed (sorry james [not sorry] peter)

I'll build you a fort on some planet Where they can all understand it remus would. he would whisk them both away to somewhere where no one can find them both.

How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded now, back to the petulance. obviously he knows this isn't sirus's fault, but sometimes pettiness takes over.

'Cause fuck it, I was in love So fuck you if I can't have us 'Cause fuck it, I was in love let him be. my man was in love with sirius black. his soulmate. he can be upset.

[Chorus]

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym) Everything comes out teenage petulance "Fuck it if I can't have him" (Can't have him) "I might just die, it would make no difference" Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood) Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up Fuck it if I can't have us I might just not get up, I might stay

[Post-Chorus]

Down bad (Like I lost my twin) Fuck it if I can't have him (I'm down bad) Down bad (Wavin' at the ship) Fuck it if I can't have him

[Outro]

Like I lost my twin Fuck it if I can't have him Down bad (Wavin' at the ship) Fuck it if I can't have him

and yeah. that why this song is so remus coded.

[ivyblossom]

Still going with this is outrageous and inappropriate love letter to Edmund Pevensie/Narnia fan novel that has already overtaken the word count of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe and is rapidly heading towards lapping it.

I had originally hoped this might be a novella rather than a full on novel, but clearly I hadn't met myself back then. Sweet summer child of one month ago. Self-awareness is a valuable tool.

This is a smutty chapter, which I feel an urge to apologize for, because apparently I have some kind of guilt about that sort of thing. I don't know what that's about, what do I think we're doing here, gardening? I rated it explicit from the start, what do you want, right?

I'm not really a smut writer by nature, that's why everything I write is a slow burn, it takes me that long to work up to that stuff, which I fully acknowledge is valid anyway and doesn't have to have narrative significance, but I can't manage the write it unless I believe in my heart that it is narratively necessary, (see note about guilt above), and then I apologize about it for no reason anyway. But honestly, who cares? Right? I dunno, it's weird that I do this, but here I am. I put myself in this boat, I can't be allowed to feel sorry for myself.

But to be clear, I didn't just show up trying to find a way to make Narnia sluttier, a perfectly reasonable goal but genuinely not mine! I'm not the one who put the god of wine, ecstasy, and orgies in Narnia in the first place, that was C.S. Lewis, I'm just a fanfiction writer standing in front of AO3 asking it to accept her bizarre, canon-respectful Narnia smut that just got so much smuttier. Sorry everyone!

And of course AO3 says, "why are you asking me, just hit post, what is it you think we do here?"

This chapter was also the moment I've personally been waiting for, when one character finally recognizes what I've done to him and what's happening in this story and says, with great gravitas and insight: "—wait, what?" I've been looking forward to that.

Big props to Lucy in this chapter for being the only Pevensie who has a clue, as usual.

Also, I have given Peter Pevensie 90% of all the 1940s slang in this story for some reason, but I stand by that decision, it feels right. Peter is hip to the slang. Pip pip!

[kangals]

way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.

in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.

last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.

then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!

idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.

and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.

sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.

i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.

thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.

i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.

i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.

thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.

[layersofsymbolism]

I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.

Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.

You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.

As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"

You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it." 

He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?" 

You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?" 

His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"

You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"

He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"

You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"

He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?" 

You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."

Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head. 

After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless. 

"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."

You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.

The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over. 

Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself." 

Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"

She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."

You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous." 

You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."

They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors. 

It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall. 

He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away. 

His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I  killed them. Leave, before I..."

You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..." 

He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."

He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands. 

You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."

A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.

The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.

"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels. 

"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room. 

The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."

You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration. 

"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours. 

Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."

[thelaurenshippen]

this is a genuine question not at all meant as a rude gotcha, but I feel like I've seen lots of people cite the relatively low barrier of entry as a huge advantage of podcasts as a medium, "if you have access to decent audio tech you can make a podcast" etc etc. So where does the need to sell a script come in? Is it a financial thing, and IP thing, something else?

this doesn't read like a rude gotcha at all, it's a really good question! there is a much lower barrier to entry when it comes to podcasts compared to tv, film, theater, etc. (though not as low as writing a book if we're talking about hard resources - you can technically write a book with just a laptop and a dream and then self publish! though as a writer who has written a lot of scripts and four books (3 published) writing a book is a much bigger psychological burden imo lol).

the need to sell a script, for me, is entirely a financial thing. if I had the money to produce podcasts at the level I want to entirely independently, I would! I know how to do it! but, unfortunately, I really only have the funds to produce something like @breakerwhiskey - a single narrator daily podcast that I make entirely on my own.

and that show is actually a great example of just how low the barrier is: I actually record the whole thing on a CB radio I got off of ebay for 30 bucks, my editing software is $50/month (I do a lot of editing, so this is an expense that isn't just for that show) and there are no hosting costs for it. the only thing it truly costs me is time and effort.

not every show I want to make is single narrator. a lot of the shows I've made involve large casts, full sound design, other writers, studio recording, scoring, and sometimes full cast albums (my first show, The Bright Sessions had all of those). I've worked on shows that have had budgets of 100 dollars and worked on shows that cost nearly half a million dollars. if anyone is curious about the nitty gritty of budgets, I made a huge amount of public, free resources about making audio drama earlier this year that has example budgets in these ranges!

back in the beginning of my career, I asked actors to work for free or sound designers to work for a tiny fee, because I was doing it all for free and we were all starting out. I don't like doing that anymore. so even if I'm making a show with only a few actors and a single sound designer...well, if you want an experienced sound designer and to pay everyone fairly (which I do!), it's going to cost you at least a few thousand dollars. when you're already writing something for free, it can be hard to justify spending that kind of money. I've sound designed in the past - and will be doing so again in the near future for another indie show of mine - but I'm not very good at it. that's usually the biggest expense that I want to have covered by an outside budget.

but if I'm being really honest, I want to be paid to write! while I do a lot of things - direct, produce, act, consult, etc. - writing is my main love and I want it to be the majority of my income. I'm really fortunate to be a full-time creative and I still do a lot of work independently for no money, but when I have a show that would be too expensive to produce on my own, ideally I want someone else footing the bill and paying me to write the scripts.

I love that audio fiction has the low barrier to entry it does, because I think hobbyists are incredible - it is a beautiful and generous thing to provide your labor freely to something creative and then share it with the world - but the barrier to being a professional audio drama writer is certainly higher. I'm very lucky to already be there, but, as every creative will tell you, even after you've had several successes and established yourself in the field, it can still be hard to make a living!

anyway, I hope this answers your question! I love talking about this stuff, so if anyone else is curious about this kind of thing, please ask away.

[coolsvilleprincess]

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! <3

Wanted to draw a bunch of different pairings so here we go!! I wanted to draw them on how I imagine their dates with each other would go.

Fred and Shaggy started out on a walk but halfway through Fred saw a place they caught a bad guy once and started reminiscing on their good times spent together and who is Shaggy to complain, they definitely went to get food after it though.

Daphne and Fred went to a screening at the Coolsville local cinema where they were showing one of the first ever 3D movies. When the movie is over Fred spends the rest of their date talking about how impressive the improvements to 3D films have been since they were first invented. Daphne doesn't mind that much since she still gets to cuddle and they also probably went to get food after it where Daphne assigns their friends roles in the movie they just watched.

Shaggy and Daphne went to a football game where Shaggy gets to eat very many football game foods such as Hotdogs and whatever else they eat at football games. Daphne isn't even rooting for a team cause at first she wasn't sure about going but it hits halftime and she's caught up in the atmosphere and uses the celebration of any of the teams scoring as an excuse to kiss Shaggy.

Velma and Daphne are working on very important mystery solving and journalism career things on their laptops so they don't have time to go on a date date HOWEVER that will not stop them from flirting through messages as they work. Daphne sends Velma things like videos and songs that remind her of her and Velma can't flirt back so she just sends hearts like a disaster lesbian, good for her tbh.

[zabiume]

LOVED your response to the ichihime ask about ichigo's feelings, and i guess i wanted to add to it by asking how you would envision ichigo's crush on her, what kind of thoughts he would think, because he's very hard to read in the romance department lol

i got another ask similar to this one about ichigo's feelings, but my inbox seems to have eaten it up because i don't see it here anymore (even though the number of unread asks it says i have still hasn't changed...), so i guess i'll answer them both here

i mean, we know their first meeting had a big impact on ichigo, even if orihime herself doesn't remember the encounter, and we also know based on what he says to rukia that he'd kind of been keeping an eye on her ever since their paths crossed in high school, so i'd say it began as a kindred soul thing: she lost someone close to her, he lost someone close to him, he knows what it's like, so he can't help but keep an eye out for her, worry about her, etc. he notes that she gets hurt every day, so i'm guessing it was a kind of situation where he'd be minding his own business or going his own way and then out of the corner of his eye, he hears/catches sight of her getting into something clumsy as usual. a dropped book here, a loud crash there.

i'd say his feelings at this time are pretty similar to orihime's feelings in the 'one way sympathies' chapter. he begins to understand her or feel closer to her because of this loss, but they're not necessarily close friends so he can't explain why he feels close to her. he mostly just ignores it all as background noise unless she's directly in front of him. we also know that she told him about her brother and her hairpins some time pre-canon, so maybe she brought it up in casual conversation once ("i never go anywhere without them" etc etc) and ichigo remembered it because he remembers seeing her and sora at the clinic and he knows how much sora meant to her. it's not unreasonable to guess that, having sisters of his own, he could kind of put himself in that situation and feel vehement about that happening to his own sisters. who would take care of them if he died? little sisters need big brothers, and having lost hers, ichigo probably couldn't help but really feel for her.

i think it's important to remember that ichigo ends up caring about people deeply very easily. after orihime encourages him to save rukia, and after she accompanies him with his other friends to help him fight a battle that has nothing to do with her, i think it's safe to say he's touched and he considers her a friend–and a cherished one at that, since she ends the arc by telling him she's sorry she couldn't protect him. ichigo doesn't get to hear people say things like that to him often, because he's....usually the one saying them. so his face in that moment speaks of fondness, tenderness, maybe even a little gratitude as orihime cries about his well-being.

ichihime really gets its push in the HM arc, though, i mean it's no surprise that the amount of ichihime fanfics probably tripled in number after the arc began. and for good reason! it's kind of incredible how many times orihime gets singled out this arc even before she gets kidnapped, like the time ichigo promised to protect her, even though chad and tatsuki were also there and also injured. it's clear that he feels like he's got something to prove in front of her, and i think, at the time, he justifies it to himself as needing to make it up to her because he let his own insecurities about his hollow get in the way of protecting her from yammy. and i don't think he's even lying to himself about it. ichigo was very, very occupied with his own trauma and the plot constantly happening all the time so i think he was satisfied with surface-level reasons of, "she's a pacifist, she has trauma with her brother and THAT'S why i've got to personally make it up to her."

but i do think, deep down, he has this tendency to only ever want to look good and strong and kind in orihime's eyes, because he likes the way she looks at him when she lets some of that love and admiration shine through. he's seen it before and i think he's a little addicted to it, because when he later remembers moments where he was proud to be a shinigami, orihime shows up there twice, both times crying about how much she cares about him lol. he clearly loves it whenever she expresses her feelings for him, though i don't think he's examining it as anything deeper than the simple joy of making his friends happy.

the repeated hand motif is another thing that i think is an important indicator of how ichigo feels at the time. here's a post i made about it a while ago that never came out of the drafts:

all this to say, i think ichigo has a feeling all throughout the HM arc that orihime left her heart with him when she said goodbye. he doesn't know how to justify this feeling, just that it exists and it's strong and he needs to prove to her that he won't be letting her down. the anime surprisingly rounds this out nicely by having ichigo hold her hand after the grimmjow fight, but so much of ichigo's behavior this arc feels like the narrative's response to orihime's insecurities about their bond in chapter 199. ichigo does some pretty balls-to-the-walls crazy things this arc for orihime, so it's kind of like he's responding to her confession with magnanimous action of his own (though he doesn't know that's what he's doing; it's subconscious behavior, coming from the part of him that heard her even when he himself was asleep—his heart. this repeats for a second time when he dies at the tower but his heart hears her again. not the physical, beating thing of course, but the metaphysical thing that transcends physical form). what does orihime mean to him at this point in the story? he would say she's his friend, of course, but to us it's clear that their bond continually reminds him of what he's fighting for. he sealed his promise to her with the kanji that makes up his name. his life's purpose lies in protecting people, and as long as there's someone to protect, someone he promised to protect, he'll never die.

fullbring arc shakes things up by a) having them get closer as friends who share mundane interests, like reading the same manga or sharing mutual friends (esp tatsuki, who he seems to have made up with) or just chilling and hanging out in his room and b) having him actually acknowledge that orihime wants to protect him, too, and is now actually capable of doing that. before, ichigo could easily brush her under the wing of his protection, but it's here that he's got to contend with the fact that he might have an equal soon—a potential battle partner, which is something he's never had before going into horn of salvation.

which brings us to the 10-year-timeskip. i've said it before, but once the surface-level reason of wanting to protect her, just like he wants to protect everyone, is swept away, i do think he's got time and space to consider the fact that he might actually have a crush on her. AKA, this, to me, is the first time he realizes it for what it is and says it out loud to himself. he's always been able to distract himself or justify his feelings to himself using plot events before, but they're in a period of peace now and that's when i think he realizes that he wants to be with her. i don't think he could have ever had that realization if he was still paranoid about her safety, because duty comes first to him, but now that he's not, i think he realizes that he just likes spending time with her and spending hours in his room, with or without their friends, just talking and relaxing. they grew up together and she's seen every side of him—pre-powers, shinigami, hollow, quincy, powerless, what have you—so i think it moves him, knowing that she's been by his side through it all, seeing him up close in all his forms and versions, and maybe he's ready now for her to see what he's like as a lover too. if she'd love that version of him, just like she did with everything else! he's sensitive and protective of his own feelings, so he'd only make that move once he had a guarantee that it would be accepted. that he would be accepted. and orihime has obviously always tried to accept him for who he is, even when he was at his worst, so he feels safe in giving this side to her too!

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[yuseirra]

I JUST HAD TO PAUSE, AND COME POST THIS HERE

I WAS FEELING SO SORRY FOR THIS KID AND THEN LEARNED HIS PET HAMSTER'S NAME IS HAMBURGER

you can't do this to me game I was feeling sad and then I just burst out laughing

[peridots-pixiwolf]

sketches from @mipexch 's whiteboard a couple days ago!!

also feat. a very small reference to @onlineviolence :]

[hellolulu]

When it comes to the mp100 ageswap AU, the most interesting thing (for me, at least) is figuring out how exactly a storyline for it would work - after all, Mob growing up without Reigen would be a totally different guy, right? Well. I have a scenario that I made up in my brain, and I'm going to do my best to explain it below!

[Edit: this ended up being sort of a prologue/backstory, so I suppose.. it's a fic now? I tried to split the sections like chapters/episodes after accidentally writing too much but oh boy this is not what I set out to do]

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

After hurting Ritsu accidentally as children, Mob becomes afraid of his own power, and anxious about using it. He also becomes awkward around others in general, as he cannot imagine being able to stop himself if he accidentally hits ??? and hurts them. Ritsu is upset and angry that Shigeo has decided not to use his powers anymore, and becomes a bit cold toward him for it, but they are friendly with each other for the most part. [This is pretty much unchanged]

During middle school, Shigeo decides to join the body improvement club in order to cast aside the need for most of his powers - if not all, by focusing on his physical body. As Musashi is a kind-hearted guy, the telepathy club is invited to use the room as a place to hang out, as they cannot exist as a club without a room. Mob, who struggles a lot with physical exercise, often ends up spending a fair amount of time around Tome and the others in the club. Although at first he's bitter and cold toward her for thinking psychic powers are a good/cool thing [bitter and cold in his own way, ie "you,, don't understand what you're talking about.. psychic powers are.. dangerous.." sort of energy], eventually her genuine enthusiasm breaks him down, and he agrees to help her search for espers, while himself not expressing that he is one.

At this point, Shigeo and Ritsu don't speak much, but they are amicable toward one another. Ritsu respects that Shigeo wants to improve as a person, but is also filled with anger that Shigeo refuses to use his natural abilities, and even more anger at himself for causing Shigeo to stop using them. Ritsu becomes a bit of a danger to himself and others, and finds himself tricked/persuaded by Onigawara and crew to assist them in an attack on a neighbouring school.

Ritsu (who was only really acting out, but is generally a good guy) freaks out when met with Hanazawa, an esper that wants to hurt others, and realises why exactly his older brother has been afraid to use his powers for so long. Viewing the destruction caused by the newcomer, he engages Hanazawa in a conversation, explaining that he should be more careful with his power, that people will get hurt, and asks that he stop. Hanazawa is extremely angered by this, believing himself to be the main character of the world, and attacks Ritsu. Through an extremely painful and stressful fight, Ritsu's powers are awakened, and elsewhere Shigeo is alerted to the feeling of two espers exerting a lot of power.

However, he would rather avoid joining the fight, and waits for the energy to die down, afraid he'd only make it worse by being a third esper in the fight. Then the house phone rings, so he picks up (as neither of his parents can come to the phone). On the other end is an already very unhinged Hanazawa, telling him that he'd beaten his younger brother in a fight, and had been asked to call him to get picked up. Ritsu's thinking was partially that Shigeo would be strong enough to protect him and take him home safely, and partially that it would help Shigeo come to terms with the fact he can't avoid his powers all his life. He wants his brother to accept his powers, after all.

The call ignites Shigeo's strong feelings of protection over his younger brother, and he immediately gets up to go to where he is and save him. By the time he reaches the school, he's already at a pretty negative point emotionally, quick to become dangerous. Hanazawa is very quickly beaten up, no exchanging of names or invitations of friendship, as Shigeo clearly sees him as an enemy from the get-go (for hurting Ritsu quite badly), and the feeling is mutual (because he lost and has to accept that he's weaker than someone). Shigeo saves Ritsu, takes him home, and passes out from exhaustion pretty quickly (physcial and mental).

--

When he returns to school the next day, his memories of the previous day are hazy, but he feels awful. Tome shows him a clip from the news of a school being destroyed, where she recognises him - and with an added remark of Inukawa remembering that Mob used to say he was a psychic, she asks if it was Shigeo's doing. Shigeo, who is upset by the events he can recall, and the ones he is being shown, becomes anguished - but the members of the telepathy group say that his actions were, in a way, heroic, and he quickly calms down, surprised to hear their positive response. Tome says he kind of overkilled it and shouldn't have destroyed a school, but that he stood up for his brother and protected him, which isn't that bad a thing to do. She then complains about him hiding his psychic powers from her, though she makes light of the situation and says he's probably got his reasons for hiding them, preventing Shigeo from becoming too upset by the scolding. She suggests that he has to become confident with his powers if he wants to be a real hero-type, and tells him to consider what he wants to do with them now that people know. Luckily as the footage captured isn't too clear, the unpopular Shigeo is not noticed, and the goody-two-shoes Ritsu is considered above suspicion. [Teru may or may not have been recognised by his school board, but I'm undecided. I lean toward him being recognised, but eh.]

Mezato is also interested by the news, and begins searching for the 3 people briefly shown in the news clip, who were hard to make out in the footage (Ritsu, Hanazawa, and Shigeo) but she is no amateur. She stumbles across Ritsu and questions him, but he's dark, angsty, and passive, newly awakened to psychic powers after being extremely injured, and a fair bit traumatised from the event. She pens him down as a possible instigator, and through a cryptic line like "my brother was right about having power being a bad thing," she goes to track Shigeo down, who encourages her to stop looking into it, as it's dangerous. She keeps her eye on both of them from this point on, as she has a faint idea that this could be the scoop of a lifetime.

As a result of the fight with Hanazawa, Ritsu starts practicing with his powers in secret. He's powerful, but new to his abilities, and afraid to bump into others like Hanazawa again without being able to use psychic power properly. Especially now that he knows he's weak compared to his older brother, who was vicious during the fight - even if it was in order to protect him. However, while practicing his powers, he is approached by Hanazawa himself, who tells him he can help him train, using the same justification that Shigeo is so overwhelmingly powerful that Ritsu needs to be able to defend himself "just in case something were to set him off again". They do not see eye-to-eye on this necessarily, but Ritsu sees the use in having a talented esper to help him train, and accepts the offer.

Meanwhile, Tome is trying to encourage Mob to be more confident with his powers, and to use them to help others, like a superhero. Although they usually hung out to search for telepaths in the past, she begins using this time to encourage him to help people in ways only he can, such as tripping purse snatchers, calming down lost children, and fixing broken things, all using his innate psychic abilities. Shigeo is learning slowly to use his powers in ways that make him feel good, and eventually, one of the telepathy club members suggests that he should try to exorcise a local ghost they heard about. Tome declares it a club excursion, and they all go to the abandoned building in which the ghost apparently resides.

Once there, they discover two other espers already on the case. Shigeo is surprised to see his brother there, along with the boy who had beaten him up a month or so ago. Ritsu explains that his powers had awoken, and he's been secretly training with Hanazawa, who seems to be intensely afraid of Shigeo. Shigeo asks if this is why Ritsu has barely been home the last few weeks, says their parents are worried, and that he should go home. Ritsu says he can't go home comfortably until he can control his power, "which you should understand, nii-san" and Shigeo is conflicted to learn that he has accidentally made Ritsu fearful of a power he's recently been making peace with.

Ritsu and Hanazawa go on ahead, and Shigeo isn't sure what he wants to do, wanting Ritsu to feel comfortable with his powers, (aka, let him try and exorcise the ghost, as he had intended to for training) but also wanting to send him home and keep him safe. He also feels apprehensive about Ritsu forging a friendship with someone he considers to be a bad person. Tome suggests they follow them, just in case, and Shigeo agrees with her judgement.

The spirit causing trouble turns out to be extremely dangerous, injuring both Ritsu and Hanazawa, as well as the telepathy club members. Shigeo steps in to protect them all from the spirit, and this also means protecting Hanazawa, who has become like a second brother to Ritsu over the last month. Hanazawa suddenly realises that Shigeo is a good person, but Ritsu becomes even more anguished due to his many conflicting feelings about psychic powers - how he couldn't do anything against the spirit, how Hanazawa suddenly seems in awe of his much stronger brother, and how Shigeo is able to destroy the spirit with ease, when neither of them could do anything special.

Hanazawa leaves with Ritsu, whose personality is becoming more twisted by the minute, confused at his feelings toward himself, and with feelings of fear and jealousy toward his brother, who suddenly seems comfortable using his psychic powers. This troubles him, when he had no idea Shigeo had also been 'training' his powers all this time [aka, he's getting it into his own head that Shigeo is intending to get stronger, rather than what we know; that he's trying to gain confidence].

--

Over the next while, he spends less and less time at home, only there to eat with the family - spending most of his time with Hanazawa, who stays by him, having become increasingly worried about his motivations. On the other side, Tome continues to help Shigeo to use his powers for noble causes, while he also continues activities with the body improvement club, which now includes Onigawara, who had witnessed Shigeo defeating Hanazawa and decided to learn more about him, only to enjoy the daily life of the club and become a member for real. [This is a weak plotline, subject to change, but I like Onigawara joining the club ok]

The telepathy club, other than Tome, no longer go with them on ghost visits due to the harrowing nature of the first. Even so, they keep ears to the ground to help them seek ghost rumours out, and are supportive of the good work they do for the locals. Shigeo is happily led by Tome's enthusiasm and strong sense of justice, and continues to help her search for other espers (especially telepaths) while exorcising ghosts and doing good deeds. He relies on her greatly for her personality, and doesn't feel a need to speak up too much - she views him as her equal and follows his judgement around spirits without making him feel uncomfortable.

During high school, despite being separated, Tome and Shigeo continue to work together on weekends. They are known locally as a pair of psychics, even though only one is an actual psychic - Tome is happy to be considered a psychic by association, however, and enjoys helping Shigeo in any way she can while on the job. This usually ends up in her speaking to the people they're helping; dealing with the social aspects that Shigeo finds uncomfortable, while Shigeo focuses his energy on the psychic work. She however does adopt moves such as Salt Splash after discovering that purified salt can weaken spirits, as a mechanism for self defence in dire situations.

At the same time (high school), Ritsu and Hanazawa have begun to pick up a following of espers who feel that their powers have made them alienated from society, and who want to be treated as normal people (the awakening lab crew), who they have begun to train, also. Ritsu has become more twisted by his need to prove his strength and worth against his brother, but is battling his own thoughts on this constantly - his brother would never hurt him, but what if? [Think: the anti-villain who believes they're an anti-hero and blurs the line as they fall deeper into their mess].

Hanazawa stays by Ritsu's side to remind him not to go off the deep end, and to continue helping him understand that Shigeo isn't his enemy [nobody here is a villain technically]. He tries to encourage Ritsu to speak to his brother about his feelings while he still can, but Ritsu (who is aware that his brother is now a local celebrity due to his powers) has become prey to his feelings of inadequacy. He believes he shouldn't speak to Shigeo until he's ready to fight him and defeat him, proving his worth as an esper, and a person. Hanazawa isn't sure that's for the best, but he continues to stay by Ritsu and support him, as he feels responsible for driving Ritsu to believe Shigeo was in any way dangerous when they first met.

-- timeskip to adulthood --

As adults, (around 24/25 [pssh, "adults"]) Tome opens Spirits and Such, alongside Mob, who has no other career path in mind, and is happy so long as Tome deals with people so he doesn't have to. Outside of his work with s&s, he is a bit of a recluse, shy around others, and still a little nervous about the powers he knows he's holding back, mostly staying in his apartment to avoid danger or conflict. Even so, he continues to regularly exercise, and helps the people around town when he can, while trying not to be noticed too much [this Shigeo is more socially anxious due to Tome taking on the bulk of social activity around him while they grew up].

Shou, who had heard of their work, and shares their strong sense of justice and desire to Do Good, comes one day to visit them. He notices very quickly that Shigeo is much more powerful than he lets on, and asks directly if he's content hiding so much of his power, a little disappointed in him. Shigeo (who has an easier time talking to spirits and fellow espers) explains that as a child, he'd hurt his brother, and has never truly recovered from the trauma, leaving an almost lifelong mental block on the bulk of his power. [This is something he feels he is able to speak about with other espers, and for comedic effect, Tome probably had no idea all this time and is shocked to find out something like that happened, when she thought the first time he used his powers to fight was during the fight with Hanazawa] Shou seems to understand his issue, and takes pity on him, explaining that he'll try to help Shigeo use and control the deeper powers he holds, giving him a business card for an esper research lab, and leaving.

Ritsu suddenly disappears after finishing university, and Shigeo (without hesitation) begins to use his free time to search for him, against Tome's better judgement. He has some leads, like Hanazawa becoming a celebrity psychic, though he's not sure how to go about meeting a celebrity, and Shou's mysterious esper research lab, though he isn't sure if Ritsu even knows about that. Sadly, he doesn't know how to go about following leads, when until now he's always followed Tome's judgements, so he's so far gotten absolutely nowhere.

This is about the time that LOL cult is being formed, and Reigen, a middle school boy, finds himself in the middle of a very dangerous situation. But luckily, S&S have been asked to check the shady organisation out by local reporter and friend of the business, Mezato, and Tome is sending in her best (and only) co-worker to get the job done.

--

Oh no I accidentally wrote a half-assed ageswap AU fanfiction? [REAL] This ended up being a whole prologue and being waaaay too big for me to tell the rest of the storyline in my head in just one post.......... 😳 So uh,,, let me know if you would want more of it 😳 (I even tried to make it brief!! This is not brief!!)

[coquelicoq]

In talking about Chaucer (p. 74), I said that, in general, puns and verbal connections of sound were unimportant and not to be sought out; and now, you will say, I have been using them to explain cruces in Shakespeare. Alas, you have touched on a sore point; this is one of the less reputable aspects of our national poet. A quibble is to Shakespeare [Johnson could not but confess] what luminous vapours are to the traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way and sure to engulf him in the mire. It has some malignant power over his mind.... A quibble was for him the fatal Cleopatra for whom he lost the world, and was content to lose it. Nor can I hold out against the Doctor, beyond saying that life ran very high in those days, and that he does not seem to have lost the world so completely after all. It shows lack of decision and will-power, a feminine pleasure in yielding to the mesmerism of language, in getting one's way, if at all, by deceit and flattery, for a poet to be so fearfully susceptible to puns. Many of us could wish the Bard had been more manly in his literary habits, and I am afraid the Sitwells are just as bad.

William Empson, 7 Types of Ambiguity, ch 2 pp 100-101

i'm sorry this is so fucking funny. that pathetic loser shakespeare who loved puns so much it cost him everything, except of course his status as the most famous, most read, most immortal english-language author of all time. but everything else, he lost and it's all because of how weak he was to resist a pun :/ pouring one out for my sad little girly man who could have had it all if only he was better at writing, the thing he is the most famous guy in the world for.

even empson, who disagrees with johnson that shakespeare "lost the world", is like, too bad our favorite poet is susceptible to the thing that made him famous :/ really tragic that the guy whose wordplay we've been talking about for 300 years likes wordplay :///

also i can't get over writing a book about the types of ambiguity and NOT INCLUDING PUNS?? sorry but puns are ambiguous! that's where their juice comes from! imagine liking ambiguity so much you write a book about it but never mention puns except to dunk on them. imagine being a POET and POETRY CRITIC who looks down on sound-based ambiguity! could not be me!!