#(or perhaps more people i have no idea how many people genuinely follow me and how many people have been inactive since 2014) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzhua · 3 months

Text

a price i'm willing to pay | part 14 - the sparklers.

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, alcohol.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

"Wonhee will be there!" you exclaimed as you tossed your phone away.

Both Hyunjin and Minho looked at you curiously. "Who?" Hyunjin asked.

Minho was quick to hit his arm, causing the man to wince at the touch. "You've met her before, don't act like you don't know who she is."

"I would but I genuinely have no idea."

"Y/N's sister," Chan informed as he joined the three of you with a clipboard in hands. "We saw her at the bar last time we went."

"Right," Hyunjin hummed with a frown.

"Alright," Chan continued. "Hyunjin, we still have the pictures with Lix to take and then your part will be over. Jisung?"

The assistant hurried to his boss and smiled. "Here."

"Could you and Changbin change the background?"

Your best friend let out a grunt. "Again?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you said with a glare and it was plenty to shut him off and make him join Jisung at the task.

Things were advancing well with the campaign. You had much more positive feedback, even if many still believed you had tried to poison your clientele. Nonetheless, people were loving seeing you and Chan interact in such ways that they would have never thought of seeing ever. Still, he remained very unpleasant towards you, but you weren't any better so it was a fair game.

"Hair and makeup done!" Felix cheered as he walked in the studio, his GoPro pointed towards himself. "Y/N has chosen beautiful colours as you can see," he showed his eye makeup. "And, of course, Chan's new cream was used for my skin."

"Do you ever stop filming?" Jisung rolled his eyes.

"And we have our beloved Jisung who seem to be pretty grumpy this afternoon."

They continued to bicker in the background which made you chuckle as you moved on with sorting products out. You peeked at your checklist to make sure you had everything you needed and began to check the items. It wasn't long after that Chan leaned next to you on the table. With his rolled up sleeves of his black buttoned shirt, he perked an eyebrow as he watched you intensely. You did your best to ignore him but the man was not budging.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" you said between your teeth.

"Busy doing something totally unnecessary. Might I say, Y/N, I am disappointed," he said in a cheeky way.

"I prefer double-checking and being organized, is that so wrong?"

He shrugged. "I just think you're wasting time. Besides, the guys have the makeup on already. What's the point in checking?"

"In case we forgot, we can still put it– Why am I even bothering to explain this to you?" you groaned, dropping the list on the table and walking off.

This might have been the tenth encounter of this sort that you'd had with him today and knowing he was still going to be around until late at night, this was not encouraging in any way. Perhaps backing out and staying at home was a better option.

But having Wonhee as a sister meant she had to force you to come along, especially since you were the one to invite her technically. After you had went back home, washed up and changed, you were walking to the club with your arms linked. Jeongin was the one to change the destination, arguing that it would be more fun than a regular restaurant with alcohol on the side.

"So how many are we going to be exactly?" Wonhee questioned you as you were getting closer to your destination.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you counted in your mind. "Let's see... Well, Bin and Minho obviously so them plus us is four. Jeongin, that makes us five. Chan and his staff, so that's now eight... And with Hyunjin and Felix, that makes us ten," you smiled.

Your sister, however, looked at you doubtfully. "Chan's staff... Does it mean..?"

You chuckled. "Yes, Seungmin will be there."

She stopped on her tracks right away. "You didn't think of telling me that?"

"When I said everyone would be there, I thought it obviously implied Seungmin."

"Y/N, I can't meet him like this!" she shouted while looking down at her outfit.

"You look fine," you rolled your eyes.

Forcefully, you dragged her all the way to the club as she babbled about how ugly she looked — though she was very much adequately dressed for the occasion. As you walked in, it didn't take long for you to spot the tall Hyunjin who was chatting with the one you dreaded to see once again. Chan had, for once, decided to let go of his usual dark attires and wore a tight white shirt with oversized pants. His hair was slicked back and he adorned his ears with silver jewellery. You couldn't deny he looked fine as hell, especially with the lighting that emphasized the veins on his arms. The way he was leaning on the table and taking a few sips of his drink was insanely attractive.

"You're staring," Wonhee commented and you glared at her.

"I spotted Hyunjin, that's all."

She definitely did not believe you and was about to make another remark until her eyes fell upon Seungmin. Instantly, she froze on the spot with a gulp.

"Who's staring now?" you laughed and it was her turn to glare.

"And the Ko sisters have arrived!" Jeongin exclaimed as he came to join you along with Minho, engulfing you two into his embrace. "I managed to reserve a table for everyone."

He led you to where you had previously stared at and didn't let you say a thing before sitting you down next to Chan. You were about to get up and yell at your friend but a hand grabbed your wrist to pull you back down. Again, you were seated and Chan's grasp moved from your wrist to your shoulder.

"What-"

He put a finger on your mouth, shushing you. "There are people around, we're a couple right now."

As you scanned the club, you saw how some people had stopped to greet Hyunjin and Jeongin while others took pictures. Right, you were surrounded with well-known models. You hesitantly snuggled into his embrace before he placed a small peck on the top of your head. It took everything in you to not puke right there and then.

"Get a room," Felix joked as he sat on your other side. "Since when do you kiss her?"

Chan sighed. "It wasn't a kiss. Don't you have more important things to do instead of judging me?"

"I do, you're right. So? Who's paying tonight? I need to get myself something to drink."

Seungmin joined in and took his credit card out. "I don't mind paying this time."

This caused Wonhee's eyes to glow and she rushed to the man. "Seungminnie, could I get something too?"

"Of course," he said with a smirk.

You noticed Minho — who had watched the interaction with much displeasure — rolling his eyes with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his newly bought cocktail. Poor guy.

"Could you please order my drink as well, Felix?" you asked the man as he snatched Seungmin's card out of his hand.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

To this, Chan's eyes darkened at his friend. Before you could give your answer, he spoke for you. "I'll pay for her drink, you may go."

Felix gulped, getting slightly scared of his friend, but nodded before walking to the bar. You scoffed at your fake-lover and removed his arm that laid on your shoulder.

"You really are a pain in the ass," you grunted.

"I should be the one paying for you, don't you think?"

"I can pay for myself."

He scoffed. "You say that now but asked for Felix to get you something with Seungmin's card. You had no issue with that."

"It's Seungmin, not you."

With that, you stood up and headed towards where Minho was as he was the furthest away from the man you despised so much. As he saw you approaching with fuming ears, his eyes widened.

"Woah, don't be mad at me, I did nothing," he hurried to say with his hands up.

"Where's Changbin?"

"No idea, he disappeared when we arrived."

You groaned out of frustration. "Great, it's always when I need him that he disappears."

Minho faked being hurt. "Am I not a good enough? You really prefer Changbin over me?" he cried.

You deadpanned at him. "Shut up, I'm pissed and he's the only one who can calm down. Besides, you're pissed as well, you wouldn't be much help."

"I'm not pissed," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me seeing my sister all over Seungmin doesn't fill you with anger."

That shut him up real quick and he pouted while sipping on his alcohol. From afar, the two of you looked miserable. You watched people on the dancefloor with a bored stare. It took only a few minutes for Chan to find you again and you couldn’t help but groan again.

“I’m going to find Changbin.”

Minho nodded at your statement as to say “good luck” and you took off. It was hard to walk through the sweaty crowd but, eventually found your best friend discussing with a woman who had definitely drank more than she could handle. He was quick to meet eyes with you and abandon the lady upon seeing how displeased you looked.

“What did I miss?” he asked while you stole his beer, drinking it in one go. “Woah, take it easy!”

“I won’t when this bastard is up in my ass.”

He sighed. “You can’t be saying this here.”

“Why? Because we are in public? Weren’t you the first one to disagree with this?”

“I was but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about how a small thing can ruin you again.”

You scoffed. “I’m only speaking the truth. Now, where can I get a shot?”

Changbin didn’t want to comply to your demands as he knew you would get yourself so drunk to the point you wouldn’t be able to stand. At the same time, you were so stubborn that it was impossible to get in your way sometimes. Felling guilty already, he brought you to the nearest bar and ordered four shots for the two of you. You chugged them not even a second after getting a hold of them. Wincing at the strong liquor, you still ordered one more, and one more after.

“How many has she had?” Jeongin asked in a concerned voice, watching you dance clumsily with Changbin.

“Who?” Chan said as he hadn’t really been observing what was going on.

“Your girlfriend,” Wonhee laughed as she pulled her phone out to capture the moment in a video. “Oh, she’s so going to hate me for this.”

Chan’s head shot up from his nearly empty glass to try and find you. When he did, his eyes widened at the sight. With your rosy cheeks, you were smiling admirably to your best friend who was trying his best to keep you up on your feet. He was glad you were not alone but the way you were holding to one another didn’t look as if you were only friends. It bothered him. Only because of your arrangement, of course. Before he was thinking, his body got up from his seat and he walked towards you. Without saying a thing, he separated you from Changbin and took over with holding you. You were probably too drunk to even process the change of dance partner, but Changbin only removed himself silently. He wouldn’t bother with protesting anyway; Chan’s eyes were enough to make him want to pee himself right there and then.

“How many did you drink?” he said into your ear, and you shivered.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you had too much.”

You pouted at him. “It’s your fault.”

“Mine? You were the one storming off.”

“Because you were annoying,” you cried, which made him sigh.

He dragged you all the way back to the table where the others were drinking reasonably. He sat you next to your sister, but she wasn’t much of a help. If anything, she was only laughing at your physical state and taking pictures. Sighing again, he took it upon himself to get you water to sober up. You already seemed to be a little better.

“They’re selling cakes with sparklers if it’s your birthday!” Felix said enthusiastically while pointing at the corner of the club. “We should get some.”

At this, you pushed the glass of water away from you and clapped. “Oh, for sure!”

Chan mentally cursed at himself before glaring at Felix. “Do you really want to fake a birthday only to get some cheap sparklers?”

You slapped his chest and his eyes widened from the contact. “They’re pretty.”

“So am I and you have me for free.”

Felix and Seungmin held back a laugh while you simply shrugged. “I’m getting some whether you like it or not.”

Before he could stop you, you were off with Felix, Seungmin and Wonhee to get sparklers. Who the fuck were selling these things in a club anyway? It was bound to be a disaster. He wondered if he should at least follow to keep an eye on you but the decision was quickly made when he saw you stumble on your feet, almost falling.

You felt a pair of arms holding you and you frowned. "Why do you have to act like I can't do things on my own?" you whined.

"Y/N, you almost fell face first."

Grumbling disapprovals, you still grabbed onto him for safety until you were at the cake counter. Felix was the one to discuss with the girl in charge of the cakes and they argued a bit as she noticed it was none of you's birthday. As they keot on bickering, Chan rolled his eyes as he knew he had to step in.

"Excuse me?" he cleared his throat grabbing the woman's attention.

The moment she saw he had just spoken, her posture straightened. "Mr. Bang," she almost whispered. "What an honour to have you here!"

"I understand my friends do not fit into your criterias for the cakes but I swear they only really want to play with the sparklers."

"I'm sorry, sir, but sparklers in a club-"

"I'll take them outside for when we lit them up, I promise."

By magic, this did the trick and the woman gave you about thirty of them. Seungmin went to get the others and you all went outside to lit them up. You, Felix and Jeongin were the most excited about them while Chan and Changbin were the most worried. Nonetheless, you took Minho's lighter from him as soon as he took it out of his pocket and hurried yourself to lit your sparklers up.

You admired them for what seemed to be an eternity until you ran out of them. Hyunjin declared this was enough for the night as he still had work to do the following day. The rest ended up agreeing and you all walked home.

"I'll take her," Chan said to Changbin who was not willing to let you go.

"I'm the assigned person to take her home."

"It'll be weird if a man other than her lover does it."

Changbin, for once, didn't budge. "Listen, Bang. I get you two have this thing for publicity but she is in a vulnerable state right now. While I do get your point, you're not the one who has known her for eight years and been there when she needed someone the most. Don't think because you are supposedly her boyfriend that you get to take this from us."

And he left with you.

This might have come from a deeper place than simply getting you home but Changbin had had enough. He couldn't risk you getting hurt by this man. Especially not when he had noticed how you were warming up to him.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids social media au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fake texts #stray kids smau #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fake texts #bang chan social media au #bang chan smau #skz #skz x reader #skz fake texts #skz social media au #skz smau #skz bang chan

167 notes · View notes

underdark-dreams · 4 months

Text

[ch1] - [ch2]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.3

Rainstorms, hard conversations, and long-awaited kisses.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Pining | Word Count: 4,189 [Read on AO3]

In a lucky turn of events, Lorroakan was called away from the Tower earlier than usual. Perhaps more Nightsong business connected with Tav’s visit today.

More likely a soiree in the Upper City with the newly ordained Archduke Gortash and the city’s elite, Rolan thought to himself. Those were the parts of archwizardry that seemed to agree with his master the best.

Whatever the reason, his evening’s lessons were abruptly canceled—as Lorroakan’s projection materialized for a few seconds to unceremoniously inform him. Rolan felt his aching head throb with relief. He’d just been given a night of escape.

When the closing hour’s bells rang out from Stormshore Tabernacle, Rolan fastened up the shop in record speed.

Rather than head to his siblings’ rented flat, Rolan carved a path toward the Elfsong. It was still early yet—Cal and Lia wouldn't expect him for hours, if they expected him at all tonight.

A bit early to be visiting the tavern, as well. But watching the gray and downcast weather through the doors of Sorcerous Sundries all day had left him thirsty. Rolan breathed in the cloud-thick and misty air as he walked.

Even for the early hour, the main taproom of the Elfsong was almost completely empty. All the better; fewer chances at unwelcome stares and comments.

Despite having his pick of the entire floor, he slumped into a small table in the farthest corner possible and spilled a few coppers on its surface in preparation. He’d been ready to drink this day away for hours.

"Chancing murder this fine afternoon?"

As if summoned, a cup of Arabellan Dry appeared in front of him. Lakrissa plucked his coin from the table in the same motion.

Rolan’s work had left him little time to follow the city’s goings on. But he did recall something the Gazette's paper boys had been shouting in the courtyard this morning—the most recent in a string of grisly murders, apparently occurring just above his head.

No wonder the place was deserted.

"Can hardly be worse than what's behind us," Rolan said glumly, raising the cup to his lips without missing a beat.

Lakrissa plopped herself down at his table uninvited. "I expected to see your lover with you tonight."

"My—" It was different hearing someone else say it aloud; he coughed slightly into his wine.

“Cal told me she made it to the city,” Lakrissa explained.

Apparently Cal had taken the liberty of telling her everything else while he was at it.

"Of course he did." Rolan huffed a sigh. He supposed it was good that his siblings kept in contact with old friends from the road…but could they find nothing more interesting to talk about than his personal life?

"She's pretty," Lakrissa said, as if the compliment was somehow directed at him. "Brave, good fighter…good heart. How exactly you pull that off?"

Her candor would've insulted him, had he not asked himself the same question many times today alone. "No idea," Rolan said, unshouldering the heavy weight of his ego for just a moment.

"Hm. But you're hiding alone in a tavern, instead of off with her."

"I am not hiding," Rolan glowered at her, though he really was—and for the second time today no less. "I just needed to think, that's all."

"Ah…I get it." Lakrissa swung her bar towel over one shoulder. "She’s seen you."

For all of the times Rolan had visited the Elfsong Tavern while Lakrissa was waiting tables, she'd never commented on the ever-shifting landscape of wounds on his face. She was the type to keep her nose out of other peoples’ business, whether from discretion or from genuine disinterest.

Either way, Rolan appreciated it about her. He got enough prying and questions from his siblings anytime he went home; the last thing he needed was to be interrogated while he was trying to drown his sorrows.

Perhaps that was why Rolan felt he could ask her the next question. If nothing else, Lakrissa was a realist.

“Be honest. If you were her, seeing me like this—" he gestured a hand stiffly in the direction of his aching face. "What would you think?”

Lakrissa propped elbows on the wood table to support her chin, regarding him in her casually thoughtful way. "I'd think that your apprenticeship with that wizard isn't going too well. But that you must have a good reason for staying."

That seemed more optimistic than he could hope for. Would Tav respect his reasons the same way? Surely she must know by now that he'd take much worse for the opportunity he'd been handed, if that's what it took. He didn't put Cal and Lia through everything he had on the journey here just to give up now.

But for a moment, Rolan pictured what it might be like in reverse. Watching a mad narcissist like Lorroakan lay hands on her; watching her willingly return for more. His knuckles gripped pale around his cup.

Rolan surfaced quickly from that disturbing image. "Sure she wouldn't see a pompous idiot who’d bragged to anyone who would listen?"

Lakrissa tipped her head in a way that suggested she saw his point. "You've never struck me as an idiot, though. How about this, then—I’d see the man who stepped up to get his people through a nightmare and safely to Baldur’s Gate.”

Rolan swirled the wine in his cup, watching the waves gloomily. “She’s the one who made the way safe for us. You know that.”

“You’re so—” Lakrissa leaned back from the table with a laugh. “Gods. For a smart bloke, Rolan, you can be so stupid. I respected Zevlor,” she told him with sudden emphasis, as though Rolan might think she didn't. “All of us did. He’s the one who got us out of Elturel when half of them wanted to chuck us right back into Avernus. And I’ve no idea why he left us, or whether he’s even alive—” A rare wrinkle of emotion appeared between her brows. “But I do know that you were there. Alfie told me all about how you protected the kids and got everyone to Last Light after…everything.”

"Alfira's a bard," Rolan told her, as if she of all people needed reminding. Foolish dreamer was the actual term that came to mind, but he suspected Lakrissa was the type who would smack people for rudeness. "I've no doubt she exaggerated."

"Oh no, she said you were a complete ass about it," Lakrissa replied matter-of-fact. "And that you spent most of your time drinking the Harpers dry before Tav showed up."

Rolan's pride stung at the comment, but he couldn't exactly deny it. Lakrissa went on. "That doesn't change the fact that you kept them safe. You saved people’s lives, Rolan."

He let out a bitter laugh. "It was only me because all the good ones were already dead."

They stared at each other in silence for a beat.

"That's a pretty shit thing to say,” Lakrissa said quietly. “About them, and about yourself."

Rolan looked down at the dark liquid in his cup, but he couldn't think of anything nicer to say on the subject. He was finding it hard to be nice about anything these days.

"You're a hero, Rolan," Lakrissa told him simply. "And so is she. I reckon the two of you can figure it out…you deserve to give her a chance, at least."

Rolan only let her advice wash over him in silence. When Lakrissa shifted, he saw her grimacing over his shoulder.

“Damn. Alan’s giving me the eye—ugh, like there's anyone else to serve anyway—”

But she rose, and Rolan was ready to return to his glass until he felt a hand rustle between his horns—the way he'd often seen Tiefling parents do to their children back home.

“When you do see her, send her by?” Lakrissa asked. “I still owe her a drink.”

—

Rolan left the Elfsong a few minutes later. He found the wine had done little to quiet his troubled head, and something in Lakrissa’s pointed speech had made him feel too guilty to stay any longer.

As he stepped out through the tavern’s wide oak doors, a chill rustled through his robes. The storm was rolling angrily up from the port now.

Rolan kept his head down against the breeze that pushed much sharper and colder through the streets than before, sweeping river mist off the roiling Chionthar and plastering it against his face and hands. He thought wistfully of his good cloak—currently sitting useless in his room at the Tower.

Even after weeks in Baldur's Gate, Rolan was still learning to anticipate the rapid changes in weather that could descend on them from proximity to the coastline. Elturel was set deeper inland; they never got sudden squalls like this.

The few others he encountered in the streets were also rushing to their destinations with bowed heads, or else frantically boarding up their stalls against the oncoming storm. As he glanced up at the clouds again, a large, foreboding drop landed on his brow.

Rolan ducked down an alleyway south past the print shop. Not normally a shortcut he'd take at twilight, especially through Heapside. But any cutpurse stupid enough to be out in this weather would be easy to dispatch.

Within its walls, the narrow space muffled the sounds of the city. Rolan could practically smell the electricity crackling through the stormclouds above as he walked. All of a sudden there was a blinding flash, a clear peal of thunder, and rain erupted on top of him.

Sheets of it swept down like curtains with breathtaking ferocity, drumming loud against roofs and cobblestones and smothering the warm light from any street lamps he hurried past. His robes were soaked through almost instantly. Rolan swore and raised an arm to shield his vision against the rivulets already running from his hair.

Despite the shortcut, the path to Cal and Lia’s took longer than usual. Small rivers were forming through the streets from the rapid downpour, and the cobbles grew slick under his boots. Rolan had to catch his balance against stone walls and fences a few times. The clatter of rain and thunder was so deafening he could almost feel his brain rattling around inside his skull.

When Rolan stepped under the footbridge around the corner from home, the muffled reprieve made him let out a breath of relief. He paused for a moment to wipe the rain from his forehead and eyes, even wrung out the ends of his hair.

With his head tilted so, he caught sight of a cloaked figure standing on the doorstep to his siblings’ front door.

Where he stood was cast in shadow—combined with the thick curtains of rain falling between them, Tav hadn't noticed him yet, though they were standing just a few meters apart. She was squinting up at the number above the doorpost. One hand reached from under her cloak to knock, but she paused halfway through the motion as if second-guessing herself.

Was she just looking for Cal and Lia? Or had she somehow known Rolan would be here? But that didn’t make sense—even he hadn’t expected to spend a night with his family until a few hours ago.

Rolan stared at Tav’s upturned face, watching her lashes flutter as she blinked away a few droplets of rain. His heart leapt against his ribs from a bewildering mixture of love and fear.

“Rolan?”

Despite the downpour around them, her voice reached Rolan’s ear with a clarity that made him start where he stood.

She was peering at his figure through the curtain of rain between them. Then she rushed forward without a word, and before Rolan could react, her body collided against his wet robes with a smack.

He found himself immediately enfolded in her familiar scent as her cheek pressed against his. Rolan's arms circled to hold her of their own volition, every other tumultuous thought conveniently swept from his head.

Then she drew back, and she leaned up to kiss him.

Her lips were warm and welcoming as hearthfire. Rolan shivered slightly as he realized just how much the wind and rain had chilled him. When her mouth grazed a spot of broken skin, he flinched back at the sting.

"Oh." She stepped away as though he’d burned her. "I—sorry."

"It's not that," he told her. Unbidden, his hand reached toward the edge of her cloak to find one of hers.

Their fingers hooked together finally, and she inhaled in surprise. "Rolan, you're freezing! How long were you out in this?"

Without waiting for his answer, she tugged him forward to the door on the corner. She neglected to knock and simply reached for the latch, and the two of them spilled across the threshold in tandem with another peal of thunder.

Lia leapt up from the table, her shortsword at the ready and polishing rag in hand. Cal’s face appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking equally alarmed. The four of them stared at each other as rain poured into the doorway.

“For hell’s sake—”

Lia darted forward, and for a wild moment Rolan half-expected to be caught up in a hug. But she only pushed past him and wrenched the door shut against a fresh gust of rain, drawing the bolt across.

Muffled silence blanketed the room around them. After being out in the storm, it made Rolan’s ears ring. Beside him, Tav pushed her cloak’s hood back to her shoulders.

“Sorry about that,” she told his siblings with a breathless smile.

It triggered a flurry of activity. Lia was drawing her into the room, whisking her cloak off to hang it near the hearth to dry. Cal plunked a large cast iron pot of something steaming onto the central table—a good bit of it spilled over the side—and began poking around in cabinets to find another bowl. They were both talking over each other to Tav the entire time.

Rolan found himself rather left out of it all, and a bit indignant at the fact.

He spread his palms wide to either side, dripping a path across the floor in the process. “Hello?”

“Oh—” Cal blinked over at him as though just noticing he was there. “Hi, Rolan.”

Lia made no response, suddenly busying herself with putting away her whetstone and sheathing her sword. The cool reception wasn’t lost on him.

“Nice place,” Tav remarked, stretching her hands appreciatively toward the fireplace.

“It’s really not,” Cal said cheerfully. “But it’s better than we hoped, really. All paid for by that bast—”

“Hungry?” Lia interrupted, looking pointedly at Tav and not her older brother. Tav exchanged an uncertain glance with him.

“Not for me,” she answered. “But thanks, and thanks for the invitation. It’s good to see you both well.”

Rolan caught her eye. “Lia and I caught up the other day,” she explained.

“About what?” Rolan asked, unable to stop himself.

Finally, Lia leveled a stare at him. “Take a guess.”

She and Rolan looked at each other in silence for a tense moment. Internally, he was fitting together the pieces of Tav’s visit to the Sundries.

“Anyway,” Tav interrupted slowly, “Rolan and I were actually just hoping for a place to talk.”

“Ah—right. Should we step out?”

Cal’s voice sounded a bit strained; maybe he assumed that ‘talking’ was some kind of euphemism. The thought made Rolan’s ears grow warm under his hair, but Tav responded before he could open his mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you two can’t go out in all this.” Her face turned toward Rolan, questioning. “Do you have a room we could go to?”

He nodded wordlessly and started down the hall. The fact that Lia and Cal both refrained from comment was a surprise—one that he felt grateful for. Perhaps they’d finally picked up on the tension between the two of them.

Rolan held the door to his bedroom open for her and followed her inside. He felt around for the candle sconce near the doorway and lit it with a word.

The space was small and plain, but quite clean; his duties didn’t allow him to spend many nights here. Even the narrow bed along the wall was still neatly made from last week.

As she reached to lock the door behind them, she turned to Rolan. “Do you keep clothes here?”

“What are you talking about?” He cringed at how bluntly his own words came out.

Without explaining, she slipped the small pack from her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. Then she swept past him toward the wardrobe and began rifling through its contents.

“Here—” She tossed a set of clean clothes onto the bed. “Change into these. Towel?” Not pausing for an answer, she dug for one at the back of the shelf and added it to the pile.

Rolan frowned at her back defensively. “I can take care of my—”

“Rolan, please just shut up,” she interrupted. She was still turned away, but there was a slight tremor in her voice. “We have a lot we need to talk about. And I can't concentrate with you looking like a wet cat.”

Rolan glanced down at his robes; droplets from the hem were steadily forming a small puddle between his boots. His combined appearance must be pitiful indeed at the moment. Too embarrassed to protest further, Rolan began working at the fastenings of his garments.

Though she'd seen him entirely naked before, something about this moment felt even more intimate somehow. He undressed silently as the muffled rainstorm continued against the shuttered window of his room.

As he removed each soaked layer, she kept her gaze averted to respect his privacy. Rolan did catch her glancing at him a few times when she thought he wouldn't notice, but there was more concern than desire in it. As if she was checking him over.

It did feel much more comfortable to slip a dry tunic and trousers over his chilled skin. Before he set his wet robes aside, Rolan turned away as if folding them in order to retrieve her handwritten note from the pocket. Rain had smudged the ink a bit, but the three most important words were still legible. He exchanged it for the dry pocket at his hip.

The leather tie from his hair—the same one she'd used that very first night—was slipped off and into his pocket as well.

Then he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and began roughly scrubbing at his wet hair with the towel, as if the force might inject some courage into his skull. His mind was currently swirling with uncertainty of what she would say next.

Rolan caught her eye from behind his loose strands of hair. To his very great relief, her expression softened.

“Let me—”

In a flash, she had curled up cross-legged behind him on the bed and was taking the cloth from his hand. She smoothed his hair back and squeezed rainwater from the ends.

Her touch was much gentler than his own—the gentlest thing he’d felt in weeks. Rolan closed his eyes at the feeling of her fingers combing against his scalp. He found himself very grateful she couldn't see his face. If this was the most she ever wanted to touch him again, he thought he could almost be satisfied.

“I spoke with Lorroakan today.”

Rolan sat quiet for a moment. “I know.”

“You’ve got more magic in one hand than that charlatan has in his whole fucking body.”

Her bluntness caused his lips to twitch with an unwilling smile. “I know,” Rolan repeated, more confident this time.

The fingers in his hair paused; he could practically feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. “Rolan, is that why he's doing this to you? Hurting you?

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Rolan told her. Making sense of Lorroakan was futile. He had stopped trying long ago, to save his own sanity. Even now, her questions stirred up an anxious frustration in his chest. “Does it matter?”

There was a soft rustle as she scooted sideways into his sight line—Rolan glanced over to see her brow wrinkled in a sad expression.

“How can you say that?” She replied. “Of course it matters what happens to you, Rolan.”

There was not a trace of insincerity in her face. Rolan found he badly wanted to kiss her again. Instead, he bowed his head toward the floor.

“This is just how it is,” he told the floorboards. “It won't be forever. I'm strong enough to bear much worse than this, you know.”

“I know you are—” Her fingers resumed their work in his hair, gently tugging and working at a small knot. “The point is you shouldn't have to.”

She was right, of course. He had no logical defense against her words. The room lapsed into silence instead. Beyond the walls, blustering sheets of rain continued to buffet against the roof tiles and window panes.

Tav spoke up behind him again. “Some of those bruises are old. You aren't healing yourself at least?”

She gave his skill more credit than he deserved. “I’m still learning how,” Rolan admitted glumly, glad again to be facing away from her.

In truth, healing scrolls were what he'd been searching for that night Lorroakan had accused him. If only he could see the techniques for himself—he was certain he could master them. The archmage had conspicuously neglected to allow any lessons on abjuration magic thus far.

The mattress behind him shifted as Tav rose. Rolan watched her move to snatch up her pack from the corner, then barely managed to catch it as the object sailed toward his lap.

“Take those,” she said as she clambered back up behind him to continue gently toweling his hair. “Keep them here, study from them whenever you want. They're yours.”

Rolan felt a thrill of pure excitement as he peered down into the leather bag—and found it filled with a score of tightly bound spell scrolls. This small cache was worth more gold than he’d ever seen together in one place.

He pulled one out to examine its formidable wax seal. “Where did you get all of these?”

“Um…don't worry about it.”

“Stolen,” he finished dryly.

Her tone grew playfully defensive behind him. “From a very bad man who is now dead. There, does that satisfy you?”

Rolan had turned to kiss her before the last word left her lips. The pack slipped to the floor between his feet as his hands notched behind Tav’s jaw to pull her forward. He felt a damp weight land in his lap as her now-empty fingers slid around his torso.

Rolan broke away just enough to speak. “Stay here tonight,” he told her. It wasn't a question.

Tav nodded, leaning back in for his mouth.

Her fingers splayed in the dip between his jaw and his ear, tilting his face into hers. He kept his palm firmly pressed on the curve of her waist. Each time her lips slid softly over his, Rolan found his heart filled with another shimmering pearl of hope. They stayed there connected in a kiss until his back began to ache from the contorted position.

To his immense disappointment, Tav pulled away first. But she only made a hesitant request to borrow some clothes for herself. Rolan finally realized with a jolt of guilt that her own were wet down the front, no doubt from that moment she'd held him outside in the rain.

Rolan trained his eyes away to give her the same privacy. But though Tav didn't meet his eye, she made no attempt to hide her body—in fact seemed to move with deliberate slowness as she stripped down and pulled the threadbare tunic over her head. It barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.

Then she moved to the candle near the door and extinguished it with a puff.

Through the near-darkness, Rolan worked the bedcovers down to slip beneath them. As his damp hair landed on the pillow, he felt the mattress dip beside him as Tav promptly curled herself in along his front under the blankets. Underneath, his tail moved with a mind of its own to wind around one of her legs. She let out a small, happy sigh that tickled across his chin.

Rolan briefly wondered if they were intentionally trying to distract each other. Tav had clearly come here to find him and talk, after all. And there was much more to say—he could feel all the words unspoken hanging between them like a tangible thing. From the way Tav’s fingers worried the laces of his shirt, he wondered if she was thinking the same.

But neither of them spoke for the moment, just lying together as they listened to the storm continue outside on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Eventually, Rolan laid his arm still across her and closed his eyes. She was so warm, her quiet presence so comforting—and he found now that he was very, very tired.

Perhaps the rest of it could keep until the morning.

#rolan x tav #can you feel how close they are to [redacted]#the fluffiest angst #bg3 rolan #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #sage and soldier #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tav x rolan

133 notes · View notes

hermajestyimher · 1 year

Text

One of the things I've been pondering often on lately has been the overt level of infantilization of adults in our societies, not just Western but across many areas of the world.

This intrigue led me to read this amazing peace on the matter which I wholeheartedly agree with.

Throughout my life, I've often been referred to as "very mature for my age". That characterization may have been accurate and perhaps flattering during my early childhood and teens. Underneath it, there was a sea of trauma that forced me to grow faster than my peers. However, now at 24 years of age, I continue to get the same sort of comments, with many people being amazed at my intelligence or perspective of life at my age. I don't find those comments flattering but rather amusing at best and uncomfortable at worst. After much consideration, I've come to realize that as an adult entering my mid-20's I am not in any way "very mature for my age", instead, I simply do not behave in ways that are childish and inappropriate. That should be the standard and not the exception.

I often see around me how people, mostly men, in their mid 30's and 40's behaving like absolute children with no understanding of boundaries, wholly attached to unhealthy vices showcasing a total lack of self-control or discipline, with no regard at all for their physical appearance, with no ambition to grow as a person or getting educated by consuming truly edifying content. They resent many women for not giving them the time of day and the world around them for their shortcomings. They have no sense of accountability and self-awareness. They remain in this never-ending limbo of mediocrity and child-like ways that upon close observation ends up being extremely depressing.

I've also noticed similar patterns among some similarly aged peers of mine, and this time including women. It's genuinely shocking to see grown people derive their entire personality out of TikTok or Twitter trends, being unable to think about things critically and instead parroting the popular talking points they see having the most retweets and engagements, thus joining a hive mind as if they were still in high school following what is popular and requires little effort and independent thought.

Even our popular music is becoming more and more immature with lyrics and beat patterns designed to be consumed in numb and almost irrational ways. The kind of music we listen to dictates a lot of how we view the world.

Our politics have become a soap opera that drive with them hoards of cult-like followers behind the most stupid and caricaturesque ideas that lack the sophistication politicians used to have in the past. All while the decisions of the inept clowns the immature, and dumbed-down masses end up putting in power end up having negative consequences in our general lives. See people like Trump, Matt Gaetz, or Geroge Santos being elected to high positions in the most influential government in the world.

My belief is that if you know you are someone who strives for excellence and greatness in your life, you cannot succumb to the ways of the masses. You cannot emulate the trends and habits that are popular around you because those same habits are designed to keep you in a toxic loop of immaturity and stupidity. If you know you are destined for greatness, don't fall short of your potential by wanting to be like the rest. Those who stand out do so because they are different. Keep improving yourself, hitting your goals, continuing to grow and evolve, and rejecting stagnation and regressivism. You are above that.

#things ive learned #maturity #growth mindset

489 notes · View notes

xviiper-rents-houses · 1 year

Text

Avatar... way of the water..YANDERE? P2

Neytiri

I'm going with the premise that you are a human. It was when she saw you in the woods with Grace and Norm. She would have killed you if it weren't for Grace being there particularly. (I think that Neytiri had a connection with Grace, like teacher and student).

Anyways.. Neytiri grew curious about your behaviors. Her decision to not kill you led her to want to learn more about you. It was then, Neytiri decided she would go to the Sky People's base.

When approaching, Neytiri spied you doing your normal tasks. Something about you fascinated her. She just couldn't place it. Neytiri would probably stalk you for a long while before making any sort of contact. When she does make contact, though, it's probably in the case of an attack.

Neytiri in the newest movie was like: insane murder mode. She was unstable in that moment but determined. Dragging from that, I'd think Neytiri would take you as a hostage at first, pointing a knife to your neck. The rest is just history ✨ 💅😈

Jake Sully.

You probably met Jake on base. A cripple. "A meal on wheels." I could see Jake meeting you and you just ignoring the fact he is bound to his wheel chair.

When Jake got his avatar body, however, that's where I think things would get interesting. Perhaps you are doing one of your tasks and Jake just up and lifts you off the ground.

This would lead into spouts of arguments. Either teasing or genuinely irritated, whatever the case. You decide! (Perhaps I'll do some canons on how many Na'vi character likes to hold you? 👀).

When Jake left to go into the woods, you had a feeling something was off. You then learned he fell in love with the ways of the Na'vi.

Jake wanted you to share that bond as well. In the revolt against the humans, Jake Sully wanted you to stay by his side during this battle. To work together.

Spider.

My headcanon for Spider is rather interesting. I felt that we did not get enough of him in the movie though, I could be biased.

In any case, Spider strikes me as the extremely hard headed and protective yandere. Maybe Spider made you uncomfortable multiple times. Forcing you to go outside with him when you didn't want to. And you probably hurt yourself in those cases.

Spider would simply laugh at your misfortune, not aware you were genuinely wounded. It would most likely take him some time to recognize your pain. Then, he would feel extreme guilt.

Spider does care for you though. Deeply. He'll try to take you under his wing and teach you things he has learned. Spider wants you to see what he sees. Spider is fierce in his movements.

He knows what he wants and he thinks he knows what you need. There are times where he doesn't know, though. And that's where you come in. Your words fix anything he doesn't feel sure about.

Ao'noung

Like Spider, you were human when you met Ao'noung. The Na'vi always saw humans as weaker than his own kind. It was bad enough having the Sully kids around and Spider. Now, there is you?

My brain likes to think that Ao'noung personally hated you for a long time. This hatred turned into a sort of obsession when Ao'noung followed you around. I think he would do this because he wants you to know he's not leaving you alone. Making fun of your slow speed in the water.

Calling you names in Na'vi. Poking and prodding at you. If you weren't able to learn Na'vi, Ao'noung would take full advantage of this.

It's probably at a moment when you felt particularly upset when Ao'noung continued his usual antics. Perhaps flat out crying or growing extremely mad at him triggered something inside the male.

That's where I think to think he got used to the Sully kids and their odd fingers. Ao'noung would get used to you and try to make it up to you by being a lot nicer in the future.

Roxto

Now, we didn't get enough of this guy in the film but, I do have some small ideas. (Sorry if it's short, but if I let myself rant: I 👏 will 👏 RANT...p.s., lemme know if y'all want a big rant from me or not).

Roxto seems to be rather unsure of himself in the movie, usually following what the others do. Roxto needs the support and encouragement from others to feel like he belongs.

He was heard saying in the movie after Ao'noung saying: "He asked if you're a freak?" His tone sounded rather uncertain. So, that adds more curiosity to what type of yandere he could be. DEFINITELY the uncertain, unpredictable type.

Like, Roxto might feel major guilt for the stuff he does to you and whatever. Maybe he tries guilt tripping you into liking him? Perhaps your first interaction was of Roxto following along with Ao'noung's bullying.

But, maybe he didn't really like the idea of doing that to you. Maybe he wanted to learn so much from you before but did not get the chance to. So, in his own time, Roxto would maybe try to speak with you to learn more?

#yandere Na'vi #yandere awotw x reader #yandere avatar James Cameron #roxto #neytiri #jake sully #Ao'noung #head canon #spider #x reader #way of water #avatar 2

429 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Note

Hello! I hope all is well. I had a fluffy request if that’s ok? Eddie x fem!reader where reader is an art nerd that likes to draw for their campaigns. One day, they’re hanging out preparing for the campaign and maybe Eddie had a run in with Jason earlier and was feeling a little down that day so then reader just starts aggressivley complimenting him out if nowhere. I really love your work! ❤️

thank youuu for this request & for your sweet words, makes my heart happy that you like my little fics ❤️ hope i did your vision justice!

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.6k content warnings: adult language, use of pet names, a little mutual pining, insecurities / self-doubt, mentions of bullying, mainly just fluff - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Your friendship with Eddie was an odd one — if you could even call it that. More colleagues than friends, to be honest. Or better yet, acquaintances by association.

Freaks. Geeks. Social outcasts.

There was however, one big difference.

Your status at Hawkins High was by design. A strategic decision you put into play long before you even stepped through the building doors. Growing up in a busy house with a younger brother too loud for his own good, solitude was your best friend. Art was your escape. Often you only found time for both at school. So no, you didn’t wanna socialise or try out for the cheerleading team. You were quite content being left alone.

Being neighbours with Nancy Wheeler, and your younger brothers being practically attached at the hip, helped with staying invisible ‘cause who’s gonna bully the girl that sometimes hung out with Nancy and King Steve.

Eddie unfortunately was not as lucky. His label wasn’t his choice — not at first anyway. It followed him through the years from an age arguably too young. No kid deserved to be treated the way he was simply ‘cause of how/where he was brought up. The curly-haired boy couldn’t escape the names, the teasing, the dirty looks. He couldn’t change his fate. So eventually he stopped trying. The Freak.

And perhaps that’s why he’s never fully warmed up to you. You were a fraud, not actually understanding what it’s like to be an outcast.

But it’s not like you cared what Eddie Munson thought of you or if the metalhead liked you in any way. Hanging around him was simply a means to an end. He needed someone to immortalise his D&D campaigns and you needed continuous inspiration as well as material for your portfolio.

Most of your meet-ups were surrounded by quiet.

Thinking back, that was the first mistake since it was in that congenial silence, you noticed how he sucked his lip between his teeth whenever he was deep in thought, and how he’d scrunch his brows together if what he came up with didn’t quite make sense. He was undoubtedly pretty. The faded freckles on his face are reminiscent of a million stars. The dips in his cheeks, appearing whenever he smiled, comparable to picturesque valleys. Those big brown of his eyes were like chocolate buttons and the more time you spent together, the more you thought you caught him glancing in your direction with that cocoa gaze, but that would be insane. Right?

It was also in those moments, as you drew the monsters he described in grave detail, you got to see the Eddie he so desperately tried to hide away from the rest of the world. The real Eddie. He was ridiculously smart. Not many people in Hawkins, if any at all aside from your silly little brother with his band of friends, could come up with such intricate ideas. Funny too, making you snort a laugh one too many times with practically zero effort. And he was kind. Asking you how your day was, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.

The small talk was kept to a minimum in the hours you two spent working on the campaigns, but whenever you did have a short conversation, Eddie always made sure his attention was focused solely on you. The second mistake was letting him, because being his priority, if only in the moment, made your stomach flutter.

But today Eddie hasn't uttered a single word aside from a measly hello when you opened your front door earlier that afternoon to let him in.

Normally the silence doesn’t bother you. If anything, you welcome it as it helps you concentrate on the details of any piece you’re currently working on. There was just something about the way Eddie was sitting that made you feel uneasy. He didn’t seem present. Leaning against your dresser, legs sprawled out in front of him, gaze focused on something out the window as he fidgeted with the pencil in his hand.

At first you thought maybe he was planning the next move in his new campaign and just needed a minute, but then fifteen minutes passed and the metalhead still hadn’t moved. If you didn’t know any better, you’d doubt he was even breathing. As still as a rock.

A sudden wave of concern rushes through you and without taking a second to consider what you were doing, you grab one of the pillows from your bed and throw it in his direction.

“Shit, what the—”

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s not sure how to answer that question, especially when he looks at you. Eyes wider than normal, accompanied by delicate worry lines that he's never really been on the receiving end of — aside from Wayne's constant frown. Eddie first thinks you're clearly faking the concern 'cause why would you actually care? But the longer his gaze remains connected with yours, the more he wants to believe your sincerity is genuine. And that's fucking scary.

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothin' you need to worry about.”

But you don't give up as easily as he hoped you would.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His lips twitch though he never actually smiles and you are certain then something definitely happened because it's as if he really wants to offer you a glimpse of happiness, but his body is refusing.

Dropping his gaze to the pencil in his hands, Eddie sighs. “You don't have to do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

“Pretend like you actually give a shit,” he replies with a little more disdain than intended while once again catching your eyes with his own.

You don't mean to scoff, but you do. “Look, Eddie, I know we're not like best of friends or anything,” you begin, hopping off the bed with an elegant bounce. “But considering lately I spend more time with you than Nancy or Steve, I feel like we can at least talk about shit, no? Like when something is bothering us, we can talk about that.”

He's slightly surprised at your words. The admission that you hang out with him more than your actual friends didn't seem right to him. In his mind, you and Wheeler are inseparable. He sees you two together all the time, sharing a ride to school, having lunch at the same table. And in the evenings or at the weekends, you're always around Harrington and that other girl, Buckley. Not like Eddie seeks you wherever he goes... He's just... observant.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Eddie rolls his eyes, tone full of disbelief. “You don't gotta lie to make me feel better.”

“I'm not,” you defend and sit cross-legged at his feet, knees brushing against the soles of his dirty Converse in the process. You know you don't owe him an explanation or reasoning, but it seems Eddie won't let up about what's on his mind without one.

“Nancy and I have drifted apart since I kinda took Steve's side in their breakup. Sure we carpool and sit at the same table in the cafeteria, and our idiotic brothers are good friends, but that's pretty much it.”

Eddie starts to feel like a jerk for assuming shit when he clearly had no clue, but you don't give him a chance to interject.

“And yeah, I see Steve often, but it's not like we're all buddy-buddy. He likes it when I stop by the video store to literally sit on the counter and draw his stupid head of hair just so he can make other girls jealous.”

“Jesus, that's shitty.”

You shrug, a small smile circling your lips. “I don't mind. Free film rental and peaceful sketching time.”

The lighthearted tone of your voice makes the corners of Eddie's mouth curl upwards, matching the expression currently present on your face. There's a semi-second of quiet. He's no longer feeling bad 'cause you've taken those worries away with one simple look. And when you knock your knee against his shoe again, Eddie's completely relaxed.

Lost in the way the sun reflects in your eyes, the metalhead doesn't really think when he asks, “So how come you've never invited me over for movie night, huh?”

You smirk. “Horrors aren't really my thing. I actually like to enjoy what I'm watching,” you tease, “Even if the shit is free. Don't wanna see any decapitations, thank you very much.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. He pulls his legs up before sliding along the carpeted floor of your bedroom until he's about a reach away from you. Closer than he's ever been. His arms make way around his legs, ring-clad fingers hanging low, poking at your calf.

Surprisingly, you don't flinch at Eddie's sudden proximity or the delicate touch.

“Quite presumptuous of you, sweetheart.” He affirms, gaze focused on where his skin brushes against the denim of your jeans.

“So you don't only watch gruesome things?” You challenge, your own fingers hesitantly reaching towards him, stopping before you can actually graze him in any way.

Eddie's smirking. “Not the point.”

“Sounds like I'm right,” you muse, your smile growing wider. “But I'll make you a deal.”

He looks up to meet your eyes then, hiking a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod. “If you tell me what you were thinking about earlier, I'll let you pick a movie we can watch together. Even something horrific.”

This was uncharted territory — (and also your third mistake). The two of you have never hung out outside of working on D&D campaigns, but since Eddie asked a mere minute ago, even if he was just teasing, you figured why the fuck not. What's the worst that could happen? Plus this seemed the only way to get him to open up.

Eddie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he mewls over your proposal. On the one hand, talking about feelings or problems isn't something he's necessarily into. And when it comes to spending time with you, part of the allure is congenial silence, unless he's the one fishing for information. On the other hand, his heart rate has increased tenfold at the thought of you hiding in his embrace during a particularly gross scene or before any jump scare.

In the end, the physical urge to be close to you, an unmistakable desire he's been experiencing for far longer than Eddie would care to admit out loud, wins.

“Carver just got in my head.”

The instant frown on your face, and how your fingers are suddenly reaching for his, looping together, make Eddie want to elaborate.

“Called me talentless. Usually the shit that douche and his gang of imbeciles spewer doesn't bother me 'cause I've been called many things throughout my life and whatever they come up with is more idiotic than hurtful, but I dunno, that comment just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He drops his gaze, focusing instead on your hands now perfectly intertwined. He began to rub gentle circles into your soft flesh and although this was completely odd behaviour for the two of you, it felt more than right.

“Because it's not true, Eddie.”

The metalhead's heart flips at your words and the encouraging tone behind them. Although he didn’t let it show, focusing instead on the dips between your knuckles and every single crease in your skin as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter.

“You're not talentless,” you affirm, dipping your head lower in hopes of catching his brown eyes. “If anything, you're one of the most talented people I've ever met.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, still refusing to look up.

“Eddie, you can't let those idiots make you feel worthless. You've got more talent in your left pinky than Carver and his band of bullies have put together.” You declare, rather passionately at that. “These campaigns you come up with, do you know the imagination that takes? I-I also know you play the guitar a-and sing too. Plus those extra curricular activities of yours require a mathematical brain. That's already also more talent than I have.”

He glances up at you then. “Shut up. As if you actually think I'm more talented than you?” he disputes and jerks his head towards some of the drawings covering the walls. “No one I know could do that and I know I never told you, but my campaigns would be nothin' without your art, sweetheart.”

Although heat rushes to your face at the unexpected compliment, you don't let Eddie's kind words steer you off course. This wasn't about what he thought of you, this was about what you thought of him and, as it turns out, how badly you wanted him to know.

“My stupid brother won't shut up about how fucking cool you are,” you reveal, chewing briefly on the inside of your cheek. “He's never said anything remotely as nice about me.”

Eddie lets out an airy chuckle. He drops his hold on you, but he doesn't give you a moment to even register how you instantly miss his touch, how your hands are burning with invisible imprints of where his skin brushed yours. No, because he's pushing your legs apart with little to no effort and sliding in-between them.

“Well, I happen to think you're cooler than me.”

It's your turn to laugh while again choosing not to comment on his closeness and ignoring how it made you feel. Ignoring how your stomach fluttered as he pressed his legs to your sides, hands hovering near your face as if he debated whether he was crossing some sort of line.

“Right. Don't fuck with me, Munson.”

“Cross my heart,” the metalhead promises. “Why do you think I asked you to help me out in the first place? Why do you think I willingly spend most of my afternoons with you? Like, there's no need for us to do this together. I can come up with the campaigns on my own then share the concepts so you can draw them out.”

You swallow 'cause the thought has never crossed your mind.

Before Eddie approached you with the offer, your knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons was definitely limited, only privy to whatever your brother and his friends shared. When Eddie asked you to draw something that very first time, and every time after that, you didn't stop and think if it was really necessary for you two to sit together for hours on end, crafting and creating on opposite ends of the room. Now that he's mentioned it, you really didn't need to.

“I-I don't—”

“There's no cooler chick than you, sweetheart.” Eddie interrupts, hands now cupping your face, no longer hesitant, and you're left wondering when the topic shifted from a conversation about his talents to whatever this was shaping up to be.

“Eddie...”

“How Harrington can use you to make other girls jealous instead of realising he should just ask you out, I-I don't understand.” The sentence fades with each word until his voice is a low muffle and you're not entirely sure you heard him correctly.

But every fibre of your being is screaming, so you know he definitely said it. And the way his doe-eyes are glimmering, your own reflection prominent in the pretty brown, only cinches that feeling.

Your final mistake is not asking then and there what Eddie meant.

He stands shortly after and extends a hand to also help you up.

“Speaking of, is the King of Hawkins working right now?” Eddie asks and when you nod slowly, still recovering from the small bomb he's after dropping, he claps his hands together. “Let's go then. I'm thinking we can start with My Bloody Valentine and because you're providing the entertainment, I'll get us some snacks.”

thank you for reading!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

#gosh this is a lot longer than i intended it to be #twas only supposed to be a drabble eek #but I hope you enjoy <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader

355 notes · View notes

faesystem · 8 months

Text

You know when you see a post that just. Really indicates so clearly none of these people have ever known anyone who is polyamorous nor bothered to learn anything about it.

There was a post about how they should legalise polyamorous marriages for all reasons, but also because they want to see what polyamorous divorces look like. Someone else reblogged with the image of Charlie Day next to that mail wall with the threads, captioning it with, "Divorce Lawyer."

Honestly, a bit funny.

But the notes are just... Filled with people who genuinely have no idea about anything to do with polyamory, who's only experience with polyamory is joking about it and making fun of Mormons.

Sure, joking about breakups happening like voting someone off the island is funny and all, but those jokes are all people know about it. It makes trying to exist as a polyamorous person so frustrating. Especially when it is jokes centred around our marriage inequality. If you are going to make jokes about something that majorly impactful to our lives, perhaps know the first fucking thing about polyamory.

I have never met someone who I have told I am polyamorous that did not know anyone else who was polyamorous who did not have assumptions built on these sorts of jokes. Especially in regards to explaining that no, I am not dating all of my partners' partners, and even if two of my partners are dating our relationships are separate. My relationship with each of them and theirs with each other have actually nothing to do with each other. It blows their minds and it is such a basic part of polyamory. The majority of the people I know are polyamorous, and none of them have any relationships where they date multiple partners as a sort of joint relationship.

People look at polyamory through such a monogamist lens that they do not actually seem to conceptualise it as multiple relationships that co-exist. Whenever I clarify that no, it is not a 'singular' relationship containing more than two people, I always get looked at like I have uprooted their entire worldview. This revelation is almost followed by enquiring how I do not get jealous.

I do. That is a part of life. I get jealous of my friends' friends too. I just process those emotions on my own time, and communicate if these emotions are stemming from specific behaviours of theirs. (Such as, for example, them not making time to speak with me but making time to speak with other partners.)

It is not that the question of how to manage jealousy that really bothers me (it does bother me though), but the idea that it would not exist if you frame polyamory from the point of view of it being a single relationship with multiple people. It just speaks to how these people have never even begun to learn the first thing about polyamory. It is not as though there are not people who's relationships function like that, but it is that it is the hardest form of polyamory to maintain. You need to have good communication so everyone is on the same page about everyone's relationship with everyone else all at the same time. A and B's relationship, A and C's relationship, B and C's relationship, and any more is all one relationship. That is so much harder than all of those relationships being their own separate ones co-existing. If A and B have a problem, it is also a problem with A and C and B and C and whoever else there is.

Yet so many people are just functioning under the mindset that that is what polyamory is, and the idea that it not being one relationship (as in, like monogamy) that has multiple people in it is so confusing and hard to understand is just. What right do you have to be joking about our marriage inequality if you don't even know what you're joking about?

#Mod Tim (He/Him)#Rant #polyamory #polyamorous #polyam #nonmonogamy #vent #marriage inequality #Queer Subection

90 notes · View notes

beyondtheglowingstars · 2 months

Text

Eyes on me

Pairing: Four x GN reader Word count: 2.7k+ WARNING(S): NSFW MINORS DNI!!! | Mentions of alcohol consumption and drunk people (nothing really comes from it though) General info: He was the distraction you needed when life got too overwhelming, willing to keep you entertained. And you were not going to pass on the chance of getting to know better the hot guy that you might have a crush on.

Disclaimer: This fic was made under the assumption that the reader knows, or at least has more or less of an idea of what male stripping/lap dancing is like. If you do not know what that looks then I recommend you to watch a few videos then come back here. Of course you can still read without knowing what that's like, but it does help paint a better picture when you know what happens in those.

“Hey.”

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a voice coming from your right. It was Link, a kind smile on his face. You had forgotten about him entirely since he left his seat a few minutes ago to use the restroom, until now that he spoke after returning.

“Hey.” You replied back with cheeks heating up minimally and the corners of your lips mirroring his.

You’ve been having a not-so-great night, but Link’s provided a temporary distraction if only for just a moment and lightened the mood a little. And you were grateful in earnest about it, grateful that Link was willing to talk to you and distract you from your rowdy, inebriated friends on the other sides of your shared table.

The blond finished what was left of his drink, placing the glass down and tracing circles on the table with his index finger. He then got comfortable, twisting his body so it faced you more directly and placing an elbow on the table for support.

“What’s on your mind? I was told you haven’t been having the greatest time these last few days.” He asked you with a soft expression.

He did not beat around the bush for that one. But you guessed that there really wasn’t any point in complicating the question; not that you really minded, though, you knew there weren’t any hidden intentions behind the question.

You didn’t know how he did it, or why happened, but you somehow always found yourself at ease around Link despite not having known each other for as long as you did your other friends. Besides finding him unfairly hot and charming, perhaps it was due to how genuine and open-minded he was, most definitely a rarity. You felt like you could confide in him.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Too many things going on at once.” You replied with a tired voice.

Your hands picked up your own glass and take another gulp of the liquid, Link idly followed your movements with his eyes before settling them on your face again.

“That’s no good, you do look like you need a break.” There was a small pout on his lips.

“That’s why I was brought here, and it’s working great.” Your voice thick with sarcasm.

“I noticed. So, how about something else then?”

“What do you suggest?” You questioned, without any hope left for the night improving.

“I dunno, we can do… anything you want, really. You’re the only other adult left on this table.”

He sighed dramatically.

“Don’t wanna deal with kids yet,” He glanced at your group of friends “I’m single for a reason.”

You chuckled and he grinned.

“Am I glad you’re here.”

Link raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Aren’t you?” He winked with a smirk, making blood rush to your cheeks.

You felt like you almost forgot how to talk; words caught up in your throat and your head void of ideas. All you could muster was a pitiful ‘yes’ that he acknowledged with a smile, but he didn’t press on. You cleared your throat.

“So, anything?” You asked him, wanting to change the topic from yourself to something else.

Link ‘mhm’d in approval and nodded a few times, the movement making his hair bob. Oh, but the look he was giving you. It was innocent enough to make you second guess if he had really teased you just a few seconds ago.

“Anything you want to do.” He encouraged you again to speak of what you desired.

You took a moment to consider the offer, but soon found something you had always wanted to do. You figured that if he was being honest, he shouldn’t have too much of an issue granting your wish.

“I’d like to know more about you. You know more about me than I do about you.”

It looked as if though he had a moment of realization, eyelids widening slightly. His eyes met yours with a shy smile and a nervous laugh as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I guess I usually don’t really share about myself, do I? Fine, I’ll tell you more about me if that’s what you really want.”

You counted this as a victory, the feeling of triumph coming forth.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else? I’ll tell you more about myself if you come with me. That’s the only thing I ask for in return.”

Link stood up from his seat and looked at you expectantly, smiling warmly.

“C’mon, I can even treat you to something, if you’d like.”

There really wasn’t any reason for you to stay, so you took on his offer without as much as hesitation. Link beamed as you stood beside him, he dug into his pocket for his wallet and put down some change on the table, enough for a tip and all.

“That should be enough for us both. Don’t even worry about it.”

But he anticipated your protest and spoke right as you opened your mouth.

“It’s fine, sugar. It really is. Now, let’s go have some actual fun, shall we?” He finished off with a wink and a cheeky smile.

He undeniably knew what he was doing to you, just the unexpected nickname he used on you was enough proof of it.

The remainder of the night was spent in Link’s company; laughing, joking, learning way more about him than you expected to, and you couldn’t have asked for more, you had a great time. The minutes passed by like a blur, and next time you blinked you had made it to your apartment’s living room.

“You don’t have any roommates, do you?” The blond asked you with cautious eyes, his voice dropping in volume as if to avoid alerting a possible roommate of yours.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion not only at the odd question, but also from the sharp change in tone from it.

“No? Why do you ask?”

A mischievous smile slowly crept up to Link’s face.

“I was asking because…” His hands found their way to your waist, pushing you gently and making you sit on the couch behind you.

“I told you earlier that I had something for you, didn’t I? It’s only for you, so I was making sure. And didn’t you say you wanted to know more about me?”

You crossed your arms with newly piqued interest, excitement flowed through you and you felt your face warm up again for what had to be the hundredth time that night.

“What is that something you’re talking about?”

Link smirked, taking off his jacket and dropping it on the floor behind him without a care. The shirt he wore underneath was loose, but it allowed you to see his defined arms, your eyes trailing their shape almost on instinct.

He leaned close to you, close enough to whisper in your ear.

“Don’t worry, you’re about to find out.”

The feeling of his breath on your skin raised goosebumps all over, and a new kind of excitement surged through your veins.

He drew back with his face mere centimeters away from yours.

“Can I touch you?”

Link brought up a hesitant hand next to your cheek, stopping a short distance away from having contact with your skin. He waited for you to give him the green light, which was a nod of your head. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, later making his index digit trace your jaw bone with a feather-like touch. His finger remained under your chin.

“Let me know if you want me to stop at any point and I will, hm?”

His breathy voice and half-lidded eyes were doing more than one thing to you.

It was paralyzing, but you managed to nod.

Link separated from you, sensing your tension and wanting to ease some of it, he flashed you one of his smiles. He fished his phone from his pocket, fingers tapping on the screen and then music started playing, a slow beat. His hands quick to place the device on a corner of the couch.

“Just focus on me.” An intentional wink sent your way.

He moved his body in beat to the music, but not just in any way; no, he was moving in more of a suggestive way, making sure to draw your eyes right to his body. So effective in what he did that your eyes were fixated on him entirely even if nothing about his outfit was revealing; he was a good dancer, that much was clear to you from the way he moved, coordinated and captivating at the same time. But even if he didn’t have those flashy moves, you were sure the way he moved his hips would have drawn you in either way.

The blond was delighted to know that your eyes were running over him, he came closer to you with a smirk. His hips gyrating in the most hypnotizing way.

“Go on, you can look at me all you want now. All of this is for you.”

To him, you looked nothing short of entranced, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could. He took hold of the hem of his shirt on the left, lifting that section all the way to his chest and granting you an eyeful of what’s been hiding underneath.

It was all so much better than you could have imagined. You may have entertained the idea of what Link looked like underneath the layers of clothes a couple times in the past, but anything you could have thought about could not compare to what it really looked liked in person.

His chiseled abs will now permanently reside in your head, and just the thought of seeing more of what his body had to offer sent a jolt of energy wild and free through you.

The peek of his delectable torso was, unfortunately quick, but Link made sure to not let you dwell on it. His jeans were unbuttoned with evident practice while his lower body kept those mesmerizing motions, a hand sneaked past the elastic band of his underwear and inside, looking as if he were palming himself. The heat pooling between your legs and fuzziness all over your body felt sinfully divine, and Link only encouraged more of what you felt.

“Hey, sugar. Please do me a favor and don’t hold back in the way you look at me.”

Link came closer, his expression making it clear that he was planning something else. Both of his hands finding the ends of his shirt, pulling it up slowly, permitting you a view that only got better. The clothing article was discarded, thrown somewhere where you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

So much better it did get, so much better with the unobstructed view at what you thought was the perfect upper body. His chest defined and full, abs highlighted by the light in the most wonderful way with the teasing hint of a v-line, but his arms weren’t left behind, with thick forearms, hard shoulders and visible biceps. This was a scenario that you would only find in your dreams.

As if hearing your thoughts, Link confirmed to you that yes, it was all real and not a dream. His weight on your lap bringing you back to reality, the look he was giving you through long eyelashes somehow made him more attractive than he already was. The close proximity of the undeniable eye candy that was his body making your cheeks glow with red, your inexperienced hands to your sides.

The blond would not stand for that; he held both of your wrists, placing one of your hands firmly on his thigh while your other one was led to lay flat against one of his pecs.

“Just relax. It’s okay to have fun.” He spoke with that sultry voice that had your ears begging for more of it.

He gently pushed your hand down, guiding it so it ran over the ridges of his body all the way down to his lower abdomen, where he then let go. Link rolled his hips slowly, and with help from his previous encouragement you trailed your hand over his abs, to which he smiled and let out a hum of approval at. Oh, the tease that he was, he got off of you not long after, and it made you lament to yourself the lack of physical contact.

He made sure to keep your attention on his crotch, with the rolling and thrusting of his hips more energetic. He undid the fly of his pants at long last and lowered his jeans at a torturously slow pace, but only low enough to allow you a better look at his Adonis belt.

His hand slid under the waistband of his underwear, directly to his dick to grab at it while his lower back kept moving to match the beat of the song; you didn’t fully register your own reaction to what was in front of you, but it must have been one of great interest as Link nearly chuckled from it.

He trailed his hands up his body, flexing one of his arms and sending a wink your way to shift your focus as he kicked his shoes off. He hooked his thumbs on the waistband of his jeans, pulling them down further along his thighs and below his butt, low enough for you to see his contained bulge.

Link turned around, back facing you and legs some distance apart, bending his spine forward he pushed his pants down all the way to his knees and sold off the motion with a roll of his hips. He got on his knees, twisting his body around to face you as he gave a few massages to his bulge.

He placed his hands on both of your knees, where he pushed your legs spread apart. There was a short moment of confusion that left once Link emerged from between your legs, each hand placed next to your hips and on the cushion to support himself up with his arms.

He ground his clothed bulge against the front of your crotch repeatedly, with just the right amount of pressure to feel it through what you wore. He was softly biting his lip with a smirk, his expression enough to make warmth flow at the front of your pelvis, so let alone the much more intense sensations coursing through you when his face was paired with the delicious grinding of his still hidden dick. It was maddening.

Your contact was short-lived as he moved away from you, completely ridding himself off his trousers and leaving him in just his underwear. He ran his hands over his torso, hips moving in gentle circles just so he could grab the elastic of his underwear and lower it further. Pubic hair would be peeking from underneath by now if he didn’t shave.

The thoughts in your head were running at incredible speeds, and it did not help that Link pulled down the back portion of his trunks decisively to expose his ass, while groping his junk through the thin fabric.

Oh but he believed he hadn’t teased you enough yet, no. He positioned himself over your lap, knees on either side of your thighs to support himself, and very clearly sticking his ass out. The blond took hold of your hands, bringing them to his thighs and then letting out a relaxed sigh when he felt them roam over his body.

“So I take it you’re not stressed anymore.” He teased you as he leaned into some of your touches, the tone in his voice closer to what he usually sounded like.

You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were still not fully over what was happening right now, so it took you a moment to reply.

“Not anymore.” The smile on your face conveyed satisfaction.

“That’s what I like to hear,”

Link took one of your hands and slowly dragged it down, all the way to his lower abdomen.

“but I don’t think my job is done just yet.” His voice was back to that sultry tone that had you feeling so many things at once.

He brought your hand even lower, his clothed bulge pressed against the palm of your hand.

“I still have more for you, and I’d love to give you all of it, if you’d let me.” There was a slight buck of his hips to create friction against your hand.

That was an offer you simply could not refuse.

A/N: Everybody thank Butter for mindbreaking me with more than one delicious thought about Four while I was already in a mental state of questionable quality. Fic wouldn't have been created if it weren't for her.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linked universe four #lu four #lu four x reader #four x reader #minors dni #cosmic writing

46 notes · View notes

meiliarotten · 7 months

Text

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 8: Pleasure Scene (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spy shows you there’s more than one way to he dominated.

Tags: Overstimulation, bondage, scene negotiation, toys, sub/dom, aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

The Masterlist

“So, what would you like me to do to you?”

Spy spoke so casually, no matter the subject. Even when delivering one-liners in battle, he could almost come off as bored. Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic that he didn't know how to turn off. Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t make it any easier for you to figure out his true intentions.

“Are you trying to tease me?” you asked, prepared to get up and leave if this whole thing turned out to be some joke at your expense.

“Not at all,” he said, lighting a cigarette before offering one to you. You declined, but something about the gesture seemed genuine enough to make you believe him. “I simply want to figure out what you would like to get out of this experience.”

You furrowed your brow. This was strange. That was the only way you could describe it. Everything about this situation was incredibly strange. When you first took this job, you never imagined that it would lead you here- sitting in Spy’s smoking room, negotiating a scene.

A few nights ago, somewhere between your fourth and fifth glass of wine, you had brought up the possibility of letting Spy dominate you. No, that was an understatement- you outright asked for Spy to dominate you. He was handsome, charismatic, and you knew you would enjoy being under his control. You woke up in your bed the next day, a blanket haphazardly thrown over you, and before the regret could even set in, Spy came to your room asking if you were serious. Sure enough, the scenario that you outlined through a slurred, drunken confession was just as alluring to your sober self.

“I don’t like pain,” you finally said, deciding to focus on what you definitely didn’t want before trying to determine what you did.

Spy nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaling the smoke. “How about pleasure?” he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

“Well, obviously, but how are you going to dominate me with that?” you asked. “Don’t you need to, I don’t know, spank me or something?”

“Not at all. Domination comes in many different forms, ma chérie. We can work with pleasure alone.” The gears were already turning in Spy’s head, the perfect framework beginning to take shape in his mind. “Since this is your first time, we could use that as a jumping off point and simply see where the scene takes us.”

You liked that idea, finding some relief in no longer having the pressure of needing to plan out every detail from scratch. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you said, allowing yourself a soft smile. Spy mirrored your expression, taking a final drag before snuffing his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

“Have you picked a safeword?”

The question caught you off guard. “Oh, um- I hadn’t thought of one. How about red? Like a stoplight.”

“Perfect,” Spy said. “Many people use the stoplight system. It is easily memorized.”

The spotlight system? You hadn't even known that was a thing until Spy explained it. He stood up, beckoning for you to follow him. You were led into an offshoot of his smoking room that you had never noticed before. “Oh, wow.”

“Much nicer than a simple barracks, isn’t it, my dear?” Spy made a long, sweeping motion as he showed off his private quarters, much of which he had clearly taken the time to renovate and redecorate to his own tastes. It was like a room in a fancy hotel. That said, what surprised you the most was the massive wooden X-shaped cross that stood against the far wall, adjacent to the bed.

“So you’ve done this before?” you asked, grinning playfully. He chuckled in response.

“I have entertained a few ladies in my time. And men on occasion. Although, all that was before I took up mercenary work.” Spy glanced back at you with a smirk. “This is a Saint Andrew’s cross. It has not seen use in quite a while. I do believe you voiced some interest in bondage during our little wine induced chat, oui?”

“Yeah,” you said, blushing hard. “I sure did.”

“Would you be open to being bound to this, ma chérie?” Spy asked, motioning at the cross, which you now noticed had cuffs affixed to the top. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Good, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. First, I would like you to undress.”

You didn’t hesitate, stripping layers of clothing from yourself. The room was a pleasant temperature, not too cold for you. If anything it was a little warm, although that may have just been the blush in your cheeks. Once all your clothes were in a pile on the floor, Spy approached you, looking you up and down with a hungry gaze. You held your breath when he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Si belle,” he whispered. You could tell from his tone that it was a compliment.

Then, he was all business once again. “Alright, let us go over the bindings.” He guided you towards the cross, showing you how to stand against it. “I will only cuff your hands tonight. Let me know if it’s uncomfortable.”

The leather was surprisingly soft, attached to the upper corners of the cross by short chains. You tugged on them experimentally once you were secure. Everything seemed to be in order.

“Are you ready, mon ange?”

You glanced away from the cuffs and to him. His gaze was soft when it met yours. You swallowed hard, steeling your nerves one last time. “Yes sir.”

Spy took a liking to that title immediately. “Let’s start with something simple.” He turned to a nondescript dresser drawer, opening it and retrieving a small, but powerful little device. The wand toy felt lightweight in his hand, far from the bulky structure one would usually expect from a wand. “Ah yes, this will do nicely.”

With a click of a button, the toy buzzed to life. The vibrations seemed so loud, or perhaps you were just very focused on the toy. ‘That’s for me,’ you thought. ‘That’s going to be used on me.’

“I’ll press this against you, right here,” Spy said, dragging out the last two words as he slid a gloved finger over your slit. It came back slick, your arousal glistening on the leather. “Already so wet. You really need this, don’t you?”

“Yes sir!” you cried. You were far less shy about begging now.

Spy grinned wordlessly and pressed the wand against you. Immediately, you bucked against the toy, the vibrations coursing through you. “I wonder if you’ve ever felt so much pleasure that your mind went blank.” He circled your clit slowly watching your hips twitch sporadically.

“I don’t think so,” you stammered between moans.

“You are about to, ma chérie.”

His voice, low and sultry, sent a shiver up your spine. The vibrator felt so good when it was pressed firmly between your legs, massaging you perfectly. The pleasure was building fast. You had never gotten this close so quickly before.

“I want you to come for me,” Spy said. He had been watching your body language. It was obvious that you were about to fall apart.

“Already?” You looked up at him, a hint of confusion slipping through your blissed out expression.

“You agreed to be dominated by me, darling. Tonight, you will do what I want.” Spy leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “And I want you to come.”

Well, you had agreed to follow his every order. If he wanted you to come already, who were you to deny him, or yourself? You let your orgasm overtake you, warmth spreading throughout your body, muscles tightening, and soft moans spilling past your lips. You came down from your high, relaxed and dazed, as per usual, ready to bask in the afterglow, only for you to notice something strange.

The vibrator wasn’t moving. It remained steadfast against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves. “Spy- uh, sir!” You quickly corrected yourself. “Um, I finished...”

“I know.”

You blinked at him, his answer only inspiring more confusion. “Sir- Oh fuck! You can move the toy now!” Your voice was starting to betray a hint of desperation. You started to squirm, trying and failing to pull away from the relentless buzzing.

Spy looked deep in thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Non, I don’t think I will.”

“Shit,” you cursed through gritted teeth. You tried to keep your voice down but as the overstimulation really began to set in, it became a futile effort. You shuddered against the cross, torn between trying to pull away and trying to press yourself harder against the vibrator.

“I am going to wring every last orgasm I can from you. This will be so fun, darling.” A look of realization passed over you and Spy chuckled. “Now you are beginning to understand. You have never had pleasure used like this, have you? To make you submit.”

You shook your head, whimpering a soft “no sir” before your words once again became an incoherent string of moans. Every so often an intelligent word or two could be discerned, such as a final plea for mercy. “Please, it’s too much!”

“You can take it. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” Spy asked. You nodded despite the tears welling in your eyes. A faint click could be heard above the buzzing, the sound of Spy pressing a button on the toy. The vibrations intensified.

“I’m- fuck! I’m still really sensitive!” you whined, as if your complaints would bring any relief. Your legs were beginning to buckle. Thankfully you had the wrist cuffs to keep you from falling to the floor, especially when you felt Spy’s fingers brushing against your inner thigh.

“Let’s see how wet you’ve become,” he mused, slipping his fingers inside you with little resistance. You gasped at this new sensation, a welcome distraction from the relentless stimulation of the vibrator. You bit your lip hard, trying to keep your reactions in check, only for Spy to immediately bring your barriers crashing down. “You can moan for me, ma chérie. I want to hear you sing. Let me know how good it feels to have this toy pressed against your clit while my fingers pump in and out of you.”

He curled his fingers inside you, brushing against your sweet spot. You saw stars, cursing as Spy repeated that action. He was definitely aware that he found a good spot. The build up was sudden this time, an unexpected rush that barely warned of your imminent climax.

“It feels so fucking good! I’m-” you stammered uselessly, trying to say something coherent.

“You’re getting so close, I can feel it.” Spy crooked his fingers, making a come hither motion that stroked just the right spots inside you. “Come again, ma chérie.”

You wouldn’t have been able to disobey him even if you wanted to. With the dual stimulation both inside and out, you didn’t stand a chance. Your orgasm came hard, much more intense than before. Your muscles went taut and the cry that slipped past your lips seemed almost inhuman. You were still shuddering with the aftershocks when Spy pulled away. Even in the ambient light of his bedroom, you could see how his fingers and the toy glistened with your release. Your eyes widened in surprise. Fuck, you had never come hard enough to do that before.

“How are you holding up?” Spy asked, speaking as casually as if he was asking about the weather.

“This…” you began, before faltering, taking a moment to catch your breath. “This is amazing.”

Spy chuckled, taking in the vision before him. Oh, you were gone. Your eyes were glazed over with a dazed expression. You seemed far away, out of body, the poster-child of subspace. It was impressive that you had made it this far, especially given that this was your first scene.

It seemed submission came naturally to you, and Spy wondered just how deep you could go, how far he could push you. “I would like one more from you,” he whispered,

You snapped to attention, looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. It reminded him of a puppy, always so eager to please, although there was a hint of nervousness there too. “Are we going to…” you trailed off, not sure how to put it delicately. Then again, at this point, was there even a reason to try to put things delicately? Luckily, Spy seemed to understand.

“No, I’m not going to fuck you, not during your first scene.”

You didn’t know why hearing Spy use such vulgar language startled you. For some reason you had always taken him as the type of man to use some frilly, vanilla term for sex, like ‘making love.’ Then again, you kind of detested that term, so this was better. Besides, what you were doing right now certainly wasn’t vanilla by any means.

“Now, what do we have here?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of Spy’s voice. He was muttering to himself, back at the dresser once again, searching around in the same drawer. His eyes lit up when he finally found what he was looking for. “Let’s see how you handle this, my dear!”

Spy turned around to reveal a small, curved object. It was sleek and black. He held the toy in one hand and in the other he held a matching remote. “Fuck,” you whispered, feeling your arousal start to build again, even though your legs were still shaking from your previous orgasms.

“I’m guessing you know what this does?” Spy asked, smirking as he approached you. He fiddled with the remote, rubbing his thumb over the buttons as if he was itching to press them.

“Yes.” Your eyes were glued to the toy. With the way it was curved and shaped, it was obviously meant for dual stimulation. “It goes inside me.”

“You sound scared.” Spy paused, looking you over, eyes peeled for any sign of discomfort. “Can you truly handle this, ma chérie?”

“I can keep going! I want to keep going!” you responded quickly, eagerly tilting your hips forward as best as you could while still being restrained.

Spy chuckled, now reassured that the tremble in your voice was not from fear, but rather anticipation. “Very well. Allow me to just…” He trailed off as he slid the toy into you, listening to your whimpers. It was obvious that you were still quite sensitive. The toy sat snug within you, pressing against your g-spot while the smaller part curved up to rest on your clit. “Perfect. Now, let’s turn this on.”

Your reaction was immediate, feeling the toy buzz to life both inside and outside of you. A soft, keening noise caught your attention, only for you to realize that you were the one making those sounds. You had officially given up on trying to stay quiet. Your only focus now was the deep, heavy breaths that you sucked in between moans, trying and failing to keep your breathing steady as your body was ravished by the tiny device within you.

“You make such cute noises,” Spy crooned, reaching out to stroke your cheek. He smiled when you nuzzled against his hand, eager for his touch. “That’s it darling. Let it all out. No one will hear you except for me.”

Your moans resembled sobs, but your lips were still curved upwards into a giddy smile, and you hadn’t said your safeword. The only words you had said were the occasional curse or desperate cry of Spy’s name. You really were a sight to behold, writhing on the cross, legs shaking with little muscle tremors, jolting and pulling against the cuffs even as they held fast. It was a struggle for Spy to ignore his own excitement, reminding himself that this was for you.

He sated himself with the feeling of your body beneath his palms. A hand ran up your side, and you shivered when it reached your breast. You arched into his touch, showing that you were receptive. He caressed you gently, marveling at how soft and pliable you were beneath his hands. You were so responsive too, still loud as ever, but even so, Spy took notice when your moans suddenly rose in pitch. Your eyes went wide, fixed on some point beyond the two of you.

“Do you feel it building again?” Spy asked, although he didn’t expect a response from you in this state. He could practically see your mind going numb and fuzzy. “Good, that’s my beautiful girl.”

The shaking that was initially confined to your legs had spread to your whole body. What was once a pleasant, warm arousal now felt like a raging fire. You were burning up and loving every second of it. You were just barely aware of Spy speaking to you, his voice seeming far away.

“I rather like this side of you. A pleasure-drunk mess, coming undone over and over again.” He had backed away, and you had just enough awareness to whine at the loss of contact. Spy now paced back and forth in front of the cross, watching you with a wide grin. “You can’t help yourself, can you? Isn’t it nice to just lose yourself?”

Nice was an understatement. It was euphoric. You could get addicted to this feeling. Another orgasm set your nerves on fire, but you didn’t even have the energy to writhe anymore. All that your body could manage was a few involuntary twitches. Even your moans were reduced to pathetic little whimpers.

“That’s it, come nice and hard. Such an obedient little ange.” Spy wasn’t sure you were even present enough to hear him. You did have a dazed smile on your lips though, so he guessed you got the gist of it. He reached out and removed the toy, trying his best to be gentle. Almost any sensation would feel overwhelming for you right now. You were barely holding your own weight up, and Spy knew that when he undid the cuffs, you would drop. “I’m going to unfasten the straps now. Lean on me.”

Sure enough, you practically fell onto Spy. He held you upright with his arms wrapped awkwardly around your waist, guiding your nearly limp body to the bed that was thankfully only a few feet away. You laid there, looking like a proper mess. Your face was streaked with tears, and you were shivering. It was obvious that you had been through something intense. Pleasureable, but intense.

“Here, for the cold. Your body temperature may drop suddenly after running high for so long.” Spy draped a plush blanket over you. A bottle of water was also pressed into your hands. “You must drink, darling. This will help you come down from the high. I don’t want you to crash.”

“Crash?” you whispered, your voice slightly strained from how loud you had been.

Spy nodded. “Hormones are fickle things. All those endorphins need to even out. You may feel anxious, guilty, or even scared.”

Ah, so this was aftercare. You took a sip of water, which quickly turned into you chugging half the bottle. Fuck, you were thirsty. Apparently sobbing through multiple orgasms could be quite dehydrating. Spy sat beside you on the bed, smiling as you curled up beneath the blanket.

“So, what did you think, ange?”

“It was nice, really nice,” you said, trying to put your feelings into words. “I didn’t realize how intense things would get, but I liked it.” You fiddled with the edges of the blanket before bringing a hand up to your face, feeling some residual dampness on your cheeks. Your smile dropped slightly. “Is it weird that I cried? I didn’t even realize I was doing it at the time.”

“Not at all. It’s a very common response to overstimulation, actually.” Spy said. That made you feel a little better.

“Could you hold me?” you asked suddenly, reaching your arms out. “Just for a bit.”

“Darling, I’ll hold you all night if that is what you desire.” He scooped you up, letting your body lean on his and making sure you were still wrapped up nicely in the blanket. Your body felt heavy as you melted into his embrace. Spy smiled down at you. “You look as if you could fall asleep right here.”

“Is that alright?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of kicking you out now,” Spy said, sounding baffled at the very concept. He ran a hand over your back as you made yourself comfortable, your eyes already drifting shut. “Sleep well, ange.” After a few minutes, Spy sat up, making sure not to stir you from your slumber. He had promised to hold you close for the night, and he would, but there was some clean up to be done first. He got to work, knowing that the sooner he finished the sooner he could rejoin you, safe and secure in his bed.

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #cross posted on ao3 #tf2 #tf2 spy #spy tf2 #heavy team fortress 2 #spy team fortress #spy team fortress 2 #spy x reader #spy x you

126 notes · View notes

marzipanandminutiae · 22 days

Note

First off, your blog has increased my sympathy for Lucille's character, so congratulations, I hope you're proud. Though, to be fair, I was never in the EvilTM camp, more of the Batshit Crazy Because Of Massive Trauma viewpoint, which, you know, she was.

Anyways, my actual reason for the ask is about Eunice. I've never read any of the extra source material so I don't know if this is explained somewhere. But basically why Eunice McMichael?

The Sharpes presumably met the McMichaels while they were visiting Alan in London (perhaps his graduation?). There's no father in the picture, but otherwise, she doesn't seem to fulfill any of their criteria. She has family and is highly social (lots of people to notice and care if she went missing/died), she's young and desirable to have as a wife (there must've been some competition for her back home at least), she's not older or widowed (i.e. "undesirable"), and while she's clearly rich, she's not the sole inheritor of her family's estate (they'd be working solely with her dowry, a much lower figure).

It's heavily implied (/stated outright?) that Lucille is the one who chooses Thomas's brides. There's no logical reason to choose Eunice. But following with your "sapphic" take on Lucille, I think she just has a thing for Eunice.

A lot of words just to say that but what are your thoughts?

Welcome to the Lucille Appreciators Club! Meetings are Fridays at 7:30. I'll bring snacks.

So, this is such an interesting question. The bios don't shed much light but they do provide some on how the Bride Selection Process works

Namely, that it's far from an exact science.

Per the bios, Bluebearding has never been Plan A. Plan A is finding investors for the goo-mining business. Marriage + Murder is the fallback option- that they keep having to fall back on. They've never actually chosen a bride on purpose before Enola, exactly- Margaret developed a passion for Thomas on her own; Pamela's dying father begged Thomas to marry his disabled daughter so she'd be cared for. Enola seems to have been the first one who didn't just fall into their laps, so to speak

And Thomas picked her.

So no, it's not always Lucille's choice- she encouraged him to go along with Mr. Upton's notion and propose to Pamela, the first time, but how much she was involved with the inception of the other marriages is up for debate. Which makes me think Thomas picked Eunice- I can't imagine such a fluttery little social climber being other than annoying to Lucille.

Why EITHER of them thought she was a good idea when she had so many friends and family to miss her...well, the Sharpes aren't very good at crime, frankly. Enola still has relatives writing to her five years later, so I suspect they would have come looking for her eventually. The snare seems to have been tightening around Thomas and Lucille for a while now, without them knowing it.

I do imagine that Edith's superior "qualifications" made a key lynchpin of Thomas' argument to convince Lucille to switch targets, though. And an interesting Word of Actor tidbit: Jessica Chastain thinks Lucille's desire to protect Edith by leaving her alone, at first, was genuine. Because she loves delicate, beautiful things, and saw Edith that way.

#ask #crimson peak #long post #sweetteafrances

20 notes · View notes

thewitchqueenofharrenhal · 1 year

Note

Evan confirmed that the only one who loves Aemond unconditionally is Vhagar. So basically he confirmed that he is a parentified child. Alicent only is close to him or showing him more of her love than she does to Aegon because Aemond doesn't cause her any troubles. He obeys. He is dutiful. So basically Alicent taught Aemond that as long as he behaves in particular way, she will support him. We all see how he is all about duty. 1) because Aegon hates the word duty so Aemond felt the urge to somehow fit in those shoes 2) because he mimics Alicent and by mimicking her in such way he is closer to her than Aegon who does as he pleases which is unbelievable to Alicent who is all about duty and she knows nothing of her own needs. Aemond knows following duty means having Alicent's approval. But what no one seem to notice, Aemond mimicking Alicent, being dutiful and so on ended on episode 10. He threw them all to war. Mark my words, Alicent's so called love for him (I view it as expectations which he met until episode 10 thus he was given her "love" in return) will end and he will be truly alone with only Vhagar. Especially after B&C.

I agree and disagree with you anon and I genuinely hope you don't take it personal as I like to foster a setting where many different perspectives can be heard. I think it would be extremely unfair to say Alicent does not love her children. I think she loves them all beyond belief. With that being said I don't disagree with most of your assertions, Aemond is definitely a child who has experienced parentification to a degree but I don't think it's all necessary Alicent's fault.

The parentification you speak of especially showcased itself to me when he is maimed by his cousins and no one cares. He watches his mother who we have seen in episodes before show him a fair amount of love at least more than Viserys for that matter- degrade herself in front of many of the most powerful people in the realm chief of all his own father. His father who has not a single word of love or care to give him when he is being given medical care. Alicent is openly sobbing and begging her husband, his father to care about him and he instead gets his older sister requesting he be tortured and his father threatening his mother with violence - Stating he will maim her if she continues.

Alicent is still at this point erratic and alone and Aemond a child sees all this, sees it plain as day that his mother, his siblings and himself do not matter to Viserys nor to Rhaenyra. We watch a literal child eats his pain up and tell his mother "it is okay - I'll be fine" because his father will not be consoling his mother or taking care of her nor himself. I think seeing that would be extremely traumatic for a child and I think it was for Aemond because when he meets Luke again and demands his eye he says he will make a gift of it to Alicent. He saw how much it hurt his mother and now that he is older he wants to prove himself to her. To prove to her that she has a champion, that she has someone will stand by her - Funny enough I think Aemond models himself heavily on Criston Cole, damage and all. To get back to your statements though - I'm sure Alicent tried to push the idea of duty and honor on Aemond and sure I do think her love and the love she has shown her children may not be the best but I think that's also colored by the fact she was a child bride and all her children are the result of martial r*pe. I also thinks it's incredibly unfair to say Alicent knows nothing of her own needs - When she was never allowed too. This was a privilege she was not afforded.

Will things change after the incident at Storms Ends absolutely - Aemond made a deadly mistake and I do think Alicent will be extremely disappointed in Aemond and perhaps even as you say cold - but that's because things have gone further than maimings, now someone has lost their life and war is afoot. I do think she will still love him after all we saw her stand in front of a dragon for Aegon and we all know what a scumbag he is.

B&C will change everything for everyone in the war. It may sound unbelievable but I think after Lucerys things could have still been okay - Aemond could have been sent to the wall as punishment along with Aegon. B&C involved people who had nothing to do with the war and made it so neither side could ever find peace again.

#anon #pro alicent hightower #aemond targaryen

170 notes · View notes

xmaveria · 5 months

Text

This is all you need to know about me, perhaps I really am a bird :0!!

Its surprising I didn't feel like I did much this year with ocs but turns out I had more art I wanted to include!

I hope you all enjoy a bit of an art & artist recap! Time has flown by so fast but in a good way it surprises me how productive I still was despite having less computer time. Things are surely busy I suppose with being an adult that is a norm. Yet I am hopeful for next year. One thing I am proud of is how mentally things have been going up or stable? For me at least for a few years back I genuinely wanted to skip my life no matter what didn't feel like there was much point in looking up at it when so many things impede you for just existing somewhere else. I couldn't care less if I missed "a life" events with family, peers and opportunities as such to the point I was to be in auto pilot until everything fell where it needed to even if it took 5,10,40 years and I could finally "live my life" and not feel any anguish over big burdens or dreams. Yet nowadays I can't help but find myself happy for weekly events or tiny moments a spur of inspiration gives me ^^ Slowly and as corny as it sounds life should be lived in the moment and even if some things still want me to not succeed whether people or systems I shall make the best of it. Hay que ir de dia a dia! Quien dijo miedo cuando ya uno esta en la boca del tigre!

I believe that reflects so much in one's art. And with a better mental state well I've been the most productive in AF I did better than when I had free afternoons every day and with a tighter schedule xD Although this year also made me realize how nice it is to be able to hold your own art space per say, share ideas with other creatives get inspired on the same subjects. Truly thank you all for the support and engagement I know lately things have been dealt hard with online artists but to those that still stick around and share what fills their hearts content are the life blood of the art community in every platform. So thank you to the people passing by and appreciating my art once or twice. EVEN MORE to my followers here and everywhere else I have grown as a professional artists these years as well with your help and kindness that I will forever remember (also the fact that you all like to see and comment on my blorbos or silly thoughts/aesthetics? makes me overjoyed haha) AND TO MY FRIENDS YOU ALL KNOW THE MVPS OF ALL THIS TY FOR BEING HERE there has never been a dull year for me interacting with you all and getting to know more about the art and characters you all have <3 Thanks for reading this o/ Enjoy the holidays and have a great time however you like to spend it, and to those also going through similar things try to treat yourself in any way you can. Wishing things get easier for you at some point very soon!

#art vs artist #art vs artist 2023 #artists on tumblr #I had to include my birb he is a very good teacher in life and biggest artspiration all these years

24 notes · View notes

genevawren38 · 1 year

Text

My A03 Wrapped of 2022 👀

This is not an official one done by AO3, but 2022 is the year I got into reading fanfic again so I am going to write my own top 10 of favourites I read this year! I'll link the original fic in the rankings as well if you are curious;

01) bones in the ocean by @bunfloras

This was the first piece I read when I got into the fandom and oh my goodness. It blew me away. I laughed, I cried, I loved the world and this story brings me so much comfort. It helped me meet close friends and new people to follow plus made Emerald Duo my top pairing forever. It was a catalyst to finding the kindness of the SBI Inc community. Thank you for such a lovely story 💕

2) Change fate by being aggressively kind by @sircantus

I found Markus through Bun and instantly fell in love with his writing, I read this through in like 3 days flat and its so cozy. It's such a lovely and very interesting concept, I hold it near and dear to my heart. If you want a story about misfits finding a home, kind father Philza and a bunch of ragtag children he adopts to protect, this is your tale to read!

03) tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains by @bonesandthebees

So fun fact about this one, I found it maybe a month before it blew up and I remember searching the hashtag to find one post. Then a few weeks later Siren was everywhere, for a deserved reason. Well written, funny and a world to get lost in, you won't be disappointed reading this one.

More included below:

04) Ad Astra by @hellenite

(I tried to put her Tumblr and it just didn't exist, I have no idea)

This one. This story singlehandedly inspired my love of writing again. You are transported to a far away galaxy with these two vastly different beings learning how to interact and it is just so good. I could probably go on for hours so if you haven't read it, please do.

05) Fields of Asphodel and Cornflowers by @saturn-bug

Not many know of his writing but oh my god people need too. They are genuinely so kind, one of my first people I interacted with on this side of the community, and this piece is amazing. It's soft, well described, and Saturn is an expert on Ghostbur and consistently does amazing writing.

06) Absent but not Erased by @b0n3d4d1

Peer Pressure Duo my beloved, this fic has so much of my mind still thinking about it. I'm a softie for anything with protective Technoblade and this story does it in an incredible way. I forever hold this one very close to my heart.

07) i’ll make a cup of coffee (with the right amount of sugar) by @kaydrabbles

Kay, you delight, literally an incredible and kind personality who wrote this awesome piece that inspired my cafe AU (You Make Sure I Always See the Daylight), literally give most of the credit to her. This piece is well done, soft and the concept is so lovely. It's a very at home and cozy piece to read with a warm drink, blanket and perhaps a pet.

08) Of the Healing Kind by @archfeykoi

Koi is so sweet and lovely, I very much need to read their other things but this one is just the perfect mix for me. Boreal Trio and protective Emeralduo, this fic needs so much more love. Koi has such a skill with putting so much dedication into their work and you can tell the hours that go in!

09) Don’t look back in anger by @grassytastic

I have a thing for protective Technoblade I've noticed doing this list; yet again another fantastic piglin man I adore being protective over a kid. Just so incredibly well written, I need to read more of their fics.

10) fate was placed in your brothers hands (and he failed you) by @jaspasaur

Bastian has such a gift for making the smallest things really pop out and I love it. Their angst writing is heartwrenching in the most /pos way, they need so much more love!

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #dsmp #mcyt fanfiction #one shot #dsmp fanfic #ao3 works #archive of our own #fanfic recommendation #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp #writer recs #ranking #long reads #sbi fanfic #ao3 stuff

213 notes · View notes

sepublic · 1 year

Text

View on Twitter

Luz and her friends race against Belos to confront the Collector and save the Boiling Isles.

Not only does this confirm that we’ll pick up where we left off (rather than For the Future following the events of the last few months from the Demon Realm side of things), but I find the specific terminology interesting. They’re racing AGAINST Belos, and the description frames it as having to make sure Belos DOESN’T come across the Collector.

Descriptions can be flawed, so maybe we’re reading into nothing... But you’d think they’d WANT Belos to meet the Collector to be instantly splatted again, right? Which reminds me of the theory/suggestion that while in the human realm, Belos figured out how to defeat the Collector, and potentially use their power for HIS plans. This sounds a lot like that, as well as the possibility of Belos trying to manipulate the Collector again, but the latter is less likely since the Collector KNOW he’s full of shit.

But who knows? Philip can be clever and still use that to his benefit. Likewise, having to race to meet the Collector first... Could just be a case of defeating them to prevent Belos from seizing that power for his own. Because they’d want Belos to fix that problem for them, UNLESS fixing the problem by himself gives him a dangerous advantage, hence the theory that Belos will use the Collector’s power as his Plan B to kill all witches.

(Belos possesses the Titan’s corpse theory anyone???)

At the same time, it gives me hope that, amidst many other things, some of them meta... The conflict will also be framed as protecting the Collector, as a previous, fellow victim to Belos, and possibly getting them on their side? Persuading them, since it seems with the Collector, there is no fighting them directly; Only talking to them under their own rules, knowing how they think, to convince them. That’s what Belos did for centuries, and that’s how King worked and has probably worked these last few months to minimize damage.

So it’s not just defeating the Collector, perhaps; But also a race to redeem and save the kid themselves, and pull him away from the path of bitter, destructive rage that someone like Belos has followed, and would delightfully drag the kid down towards. Maybe that’s his plan; Use their past, amidst other things, to make the Collector fall into a genuine wrath against everyone and everything, and lash out by destroying the isles.

Belos might just seed doubt into the poor kid’s head, pointing out how King is JUST like him, manipulating the Collector, and he’s not totally wrong. All to put the idea in the Collector’s head that nobody loves him, there’s nobody he can trust; And so he should just give up and destroy it all as retribution. And in the ashes, when nobody is left but the Collector and Belos... THEN Belos enacts whatever method he has planned to defeat the Collector, too.

But yeah, it almost sounds like a race to save the Collector and get them on their side as it is a race to save the isles. Which could make the Collector VERY mixed, because again it’s people only valuing them for power and knowledge, and not just as a person and friend. Which King might be able to provide...!

It’s the trope of the all-powerful, vulnerable neutral party who just wants to be loved for who they are and not seen as a weapon, caught between two parties, one good and the other evil, who see the potential in influencing that person for their goals. All while they have one true friend, more aligned to the protagonists, who actually does care and might end up lashing out that nobody cares for the powerful person unconditionally. Because as his ‘friend’ for months, King may have gotten a glimpse into the Collector’s loneliness and realized how similar they are...

Maybe the Collector realizes their power is the problem and gives it up to finally be seen as a person, which is great! Even if it means they can’t one-shot Belos for everyone, which is fine. OR... Belos takes advantage of this moment to take that power for himself.

#the owl house #psa #the owl house collector #emperor belos #philip wittebane #speculation #theory #analysis

208 notes · View notes

kurisus · 5 months

Text

Noragami reread: Volume 1 & 2 thoughts

So it begins, my final reread before the end.

It really is so interesting how the first chapter has fuck all to do with the rest of the manga. Yato using the same call to Hanki as he would to name a shinki, Mutsumi creating something like an ayakashi that never comes up again, the fact that she herself never makes another appearance, and of course the most important question: why Yato was looting toilet paper if gods don't poop. I'm sure this is because it was a pilot of sorts and Adachitoka was still figuring stuff out, but it's interesting.

And on that note, remember when ayakashi were plot relevant? It's not really a complaint--I think there were more important things to cover--but they seem to gradually be phased out of the story and otherwise transformed. Same goes for borderlines and blight.

I forgot Yato told Hiyori "under normal circumstances, I'd love to have you as my shinki" IN CHAPTER GODDAMN TWO. No further comment.

Still get full body chills when Yato names Yukine, especially ever since we found out Yukine's past...it still devastates me to know he's been carrying that this whole time.

And when Yato first reverts Yukine, he offers him his jacket and tells him "you have nothing to be afraid of anymore." He's not being funny, he's genuinely trying to reassure him. It goes poorly, but he still cared. He always cared. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA [thrashing]

The last thing I wanna mention from this volume is that I thought Yukine lived quite far from Hiyori, but I guess it was roughly in the same city. It's so sad to think about these two separate stories that never converged until decades later.

Moving on to volume 2, it's really apparent with every reread that even though the ideas keep changing, the themes stay constant. There are so many lines of what could ostensibly be foreshadowing but really they're more reflections of the themes. To pick a random example, when Hiyori is talking about Yato's distaste of suicidal people, she says her father (a doctor) would never give up on a person's life. This can be tied to the situation happening at the time--Yato appears to be acting selfish by refusing to help--but it also has a double meaning showing how he, in the present, will become someone who would never give up on Hiyori's life. Yall mind if I cry.

Not much else from this volume, but I did have a few short Discord reactions to share from both:

See you tomorrow, or perhaps the following day (depending on if I do 2 at once again)!

#live update #Noragami reread #GoodbyeNoragami

19 notes · View notes

bluegekk0 · 1 month

Text

Bit of a ramble about something that's been on a mind for a while, about HK and the AU. Not really a vent, but just wanted to talk about it. It's pretty long so I'll hide it.

My relationship with HK these days is a bit complicated, to be honest. I absolutely adore the game, I get this warm feeling every time I hear the soundtrack and I still get the itch to replay it from time to time. It's a work for art and I'm so, so grateful I played it, even if I was quite late to the party all things considered.

But I can't deny that I fell into the rabbithole of having too many headcanons where I can't engage with other people to the extent I perhaps used to. I don't like many of the popular characters nearly as much as the fandom does, and those that are close to my heart I interpret in a way that speaks to me, but one that feels very distant to how other people view them.

It has some downsides. I avoid looking up HK fanart and I'm slowly starting to dislike getting posts about it recommended to me in the For You tab a little bit. Not because the art is bad, far from it, there are incredible artists and other members of this community that deserve all the love in the world. It's just that it keeps reminding me that my interpretations are so personal, and headcanons that go against them almost feel like mischaracterization, as ridiculous as it sounds. Some interpretations end up upsetting me more than I'd like, too. Some of it is misinterpretations that annoy me, but some are just things I personally don't agree with.

But part of me makes me think that it's my fault somehow. I can't quite explain it, I think this is somehow rooted in my self-esteem issues. I often fear that I don't belong, that I'm doing something wrong by not following the general fanon, that my AU feels like an insult against the canon because of how derived and self-indulgent it is. I didn't have that problem before, not to this extent, but as my mental health got worse over the months, it makes sense that something like this would also start to make itself known. Or at least it makes sense to me.

So deep down I'm torn. On one hand, I get weirdly protective over my interpretations and it's gone to the point where I struggle to separate them from the versions other people talk about. On the other, I'm starting to feel guilty that my AU versions are so different that they might upset some people.

I had some moments where I considered turning them into OCs. But every time I I think about that, I reach the conclusion that no, I don't want to do that. I love them the way they are, despite their designs evolving with time, I wouldn't want to change anything about them, let alone turn them into different characters. And it's not like I'm really changing the character from the canon. Some details are different, but it's also easy to forget that we don't really know much about a lot of these characters, so in many ways I'm just filling the blanks and writing the story around it. Not to mention, adapting canon in ways that I find personally engaging is one of my favorite things about the worldbuilding and lore of the AU. And then there's all the engagement from people who like the AU and want to learn more that is genuinely the main reason why it's as expansive as it is. I don't think I would've stuck around making art for it for this long if I was doing it for myself only.

But it's not just art, knowing that people care, and getting all the interesting ideas I haven't considered inspires me to expand the world of the AU even further, I think about it in my spare time, of all the ways I could develop the world, I still get random ideas for it that I eventually want to include, I read about something in the game's lore and I immediately think of the way I could adapt it into my AU. It became a personal project that I find comfort in, and changing it would just feel wrong. And I know how my brain works (well, at least I think I do), I know I wouldn't remain as invested if I were by myself, I need to share it with other people. And I doubt they would be as interested if it wasn't for the connection to HK. I think that's natural and to be expected.

So all that leaves me in a bit of an awkward spot. I love HK, but over the last year I built a wall around me and the sandbox of my personal interpretations, that creates this disconnect between me and the rest of the fandom. I don't think that fact alone makes me upset, either. There's a reason why I'm still sitting there and playing in that sandbox to this day, and it's because I genuinely love doing it. I guess the disconnect just feeds into my already existing confidence issues and worries. Then again, I haven't really left the fandom, and I'm not planning to anytime soon. All I'm hoping for is that my low-confidence plagued brain improves, and stops telling me I'm doing something wrong by playing in the sandbox by myself.

Okay, not by myself, that would be selfish of me to say. There's still a lot of you here, people whom my silly AU clicked with, people who want to see more of it and are still there for the 6th slice of life drawing of the week. I love and appreciate you all, and I'm really grateful I can share the sandbox with you. You're the best, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm so, so happy that you found something in my art that resonated with you.

I don't know how to end this post tbh. Again, it's not really meant to be a vent post, not the usual kind at least. Even if some things about this frustrate or upset me a little bit, I think I'm slowly moving towards the acceptance stage. I don't want to change my interpretations so they're more in line with the rest of the fandom, and I don't want to force myself to engage with things that upset me just to feel like I belong. All I'm hoping is that I eventually stop having doubts; about this, and everything in general.

I guess I just wanted to share my thoughts. Maybe someone else feels like they're in a similar spot. Maybe hearing some words of encouragement that I'm not going insane with this would also help me accept the position I'm in. Maybe it's Maybelline.

#getting this off my chest felt nice #makes me wonder if anyone else has ever experienced something similar to this #not just with hk but in general #gekko.txt #feral pk au

15 notes · View notes