#( HOWEVER! pretend this is where the base is. for my sanity)

[lancerthatdetects]

35 07' 17''

-105 16' 35''

[thelostgirl21]

Well, I am a disabled, queer, and autistic with ADHD and MCAS (mast cell activation syndrome) 42 years old with lots of time on her hands (since I sadly can't pursue a career), and a fascination (one might call it a special interest) for queer studies.

So yeah, there are obviously a few things that are "abnormal" about me.

I highly doubt, however, that stupidity is one of them (not that it should matter, but I was put in classes for people who are intellectually gifted my whole life, so apparently, I have been identified as someone who is somewhat intelligent according to certain societal standards, at the very least).

I have also been emotionally and psychologically abused for the first 30 years of my life by a mother with narcissistic personality disorder whom. Whenever she realized that my arguments were too articulated, solid, and well thought out for her to simply stand by her own point of view and calmly state why she disagreed with me rationally, she would resort to personal attacks and name-calling instead.

So, like I've said before, I've endured way worst attempts at invalidation, intimidation, and bullying.

What you are attempting to use against me here is actually a very well-known manipulation technique where an attempt is made to direct the attention of the public (i.e. whoever could stumble across our exchange, and have an interest in reading it) away from the content of my own arguments, i.e. the message, by attacking the sanity / intelligence / intent of the messenger instead.

Basically warning any potential readers "be careful, this person is clearly unhinged, unreasonable, looking to troll, and should not be listened to. Especially if, by contrast, you are a rationally thinking and reasonable type. I'm obviously right, and she's obviously wrong! Do not pay attention to her! "

It can actually be a very effective technique.

What I do not understand, either, is the way you keep jumping back and forth between acknowledging that sapioromantic/sapiosexual is a real and valid queer label (although you do impose the "under certain circumstances" condition), and then mocking people using those labels, all the way down to aggressively ridiculing their pride flag!

Thankfully, I know there can be no agression without fear.

But I simply cannot fathom what you are afraid of, or why you are acting so scared.

I'm about the least threatening person I know.

And the whole infantilizing attitude of "I've tried being nice to you, only pretending to give your ideas any value, because I'm the only one that knows what I am taking about and you're clearly stupid, obviously" is quite frankly insulting and totally unwarranted.

I don't need you to be nice, coddle me, pretend to be my friend, or to remotely like me. Just ideally to treat me like an autonomous adult that can respectfully co-exist in a world of diverging ideas and opinions (wild concept, I know!) with others.

So, I would kindly ask you stop trying to constantly attempt to discredit me and make me feel irrelevant and small, and instead address the content of what I'm saying.

i.e. Show me the same respect and maturity I've been showing you.

Otherwise, agreeing to disagree and leaving the conversation is a perfectly acceptable approach.

Yes, I have seen plenty of sapiophobic arguments and definitions, often coming from within the LGBTQ+ community, sadly, arguing that sapioromantism and sapiosexuality is "just a preference", "a fetish", "ableist" (WTF?! Do we accuse gay men of being sexist?! Sexual attractions are instinctive and discriminatory, not based on social values. They aren't a matter of choice. Some aren't sexually attracted to men, others aren't sexually attracted to people that are below 5'4", others not sexually attracted to people with ADHD. Etc. It's healthy and natural to be unable to have sex and/or romantically engage with certain people that you otherwise would love, respect, and wish to regularly socially engage with! The whole planet is not meant to have access to one's bed!), that since heterosexual people can claim to be sapiosexual, too, they shouldn't be allowed to be called "queer", etc., that I've already taken the time to deconstruct here.

Yes, those opinions are out there, and even many very good articles about what sapioromantism/sapiosexuality is do acknowledge that sapioromantism/sapiosexuality has a harder time being recognized and fully accepted as being part of the LGBTQ+ community than demiromantism/demisexuality does, despite both essentially sharing very similar essential characteristics.

There's a lack of consensus, but that shouldn't refrain me from continuing to advocate for their inclusion and recognition as part of the community, and already treating those sexualities as being part of the LGBTQ+ because I fully agree that being sapioromantic and sapiosexual does fit those criteria.

After all, some LGBTQ+ people keep rejecting transgenderism from the community, with some very passionate posts out there making a case of why trans people and even queer people don't qualify, only the LGB should be valid. And I also vehemently disagree with them.

So I'm not going to pretend that sapioromantism and sapiosexuality should be excluded from the LGBTQ+ based of controversy, misuse, rumors that "only pretentious cisgender women wishing to ride the LGBTQ+ train are claiming to be sapiosexual", and/or people attempting to keep them out of the community, if I have the personal conviction that they very much belong there and the ability to articulate it.

Especially since rejecting sapioromantism and sapiosexuality as valid queer identities often gives strong weight to arguments saying that demiromantism and demisexuality should not be included in the LGBTQ+ community's as well.

Because, according to that position, a straight demisexual person won't suffer from discrimination over only having sex with people they have developed a strong emotional bond with.

And, while I do understand what people are saying, I strongly disagree that the validity of one's queer sexual orientation should be measured in terms of how likely they are to be socially discriminated against.

Queer identities, to me, should be looked at in the scope of how common they are in society, and how likely the individual is to recognize their own sexuality reflected in the world around them, rather than through the scope of pure advocacy.

A demisexual or sapiosexual still grows up in a world where they are unable to relate to the way allosexuals experience and describe their own sexual attraction.

As a result, they often feel emotionally and psychologically isolated / different / confused about their sexuality, etc.

When you get sexually turned on listening to your best friend geeking out about the different types of cloud formations there are, while your romantic non-geek partner is utterly sexually unattractive to you, you know there's something different about you, alright?

That's fucking queer as hell!

You may not get beaten up in the streets over wanting to fuck your geeky platonic best friend over your non-geek romantic partner, but you feel very different, and it falls outside of the models of sexuality you were regularly exposed to while growing up!

Finding out that sexualities such as demisexuality and sapiosexuality are a thing, and talking with people that share the same experience as you do and "get it", will do wonders for your own mental and emotional well-being.

So, to me, these are queer identities that greatly matter and deserve respect and representation as well.

So yeah, if you are looking at definitions, posts, and arguments claiming that only the "almighty gender preferences" should be considered sexual orientations, that asexuality should only be reserved to those who are sex-repulsed and do not enjoy sex, and that human sexuality is just about behaviors related towards other people's genders - with everything else being relegated to "mere preferences" that one could overcome if they made a little effort to - then you'll often see sapioromantic and sapiosexual people being made fun of, and openly ridiculed for desiring recognition.

If you look at definitions and discussions shared by actual sapioromantics and sapiosexuals, and allow them to speak for themselves and accurately define themselves, instead of constantly telling them "your sexuality is a joke, you should be excluded from the community, and your flag is ugly", then you realise that there are, indeed, people that are unable to be romantically / sexually attracted to other people unless they experience a primary fascination / attraction towards the intellect of another human being!

And the saddest thing, is that there are a lot of sapioromantics and sapiosexuals that will exclude themselves from the LGBTQ+ community after being told arguments such as those I've mentioned before - i.e. that they do not face discrimination for being sapioromantic/sexual, and/or that only gender preferences should be called orientations - because they fear causing other queer people any harm by claiming they are LGBTQ+ based on the (very queer) way they experience attraction.

Oddly enough, there seems to be a bit of an overrepresentation of sapio orientations among autistic people, too, and I feel like this blog entry is very representative of why so many or us (myself included, since I keep obsessing over figuring out if I'm sexually attracted to the personality traits, vs how one's brain works when it comes to geekiness) hesitate to openly identify as sapioromantic and/or sapiosexual.

People with autism are so often told that the way they perceive and experience the world (be it emotionally, intellectually, romantically, sexually, etc.) is wrong, that they will often doubt themselves and be excessively concilient to avoid accidentally bringing harm to others or being socially rejected.

We are a lot more likely to doubt ourselves and the validity of our positions, and we are so used to existing on the fringe of society that having so many people put sapio orientations somewhere on the fringe of the LGBTQ+ community, rather than being fully included, becomes "business as usual".

I actually do have rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD), but only when I feel like there's some emotional bond between me and the rest of a group I wish to me a part of.

So, one of the reasons why I'm so grateful to Joey Batey for having named Jaskier as being sapioromantically and sapiosexually attracted to Radovid, is because of how controversial that queer identity is, how hard people are often trying to keep sapioromantics and sapiosexuals away from LGBTQ+ spaces, and how much focus people keep putting on gender when it is comes to sexuality, as opposed to other preferences that might play the exact same role as gender in how people experience sexual attraction.

And Joey also said that he believes that Jaskier doesn't really see gender.

(Note: the article itself gives a definition of sapioromantism that makes it sound like sapioromantism always occurs regardless of gender.

While some definitions consider sapioromantism to be a subset of panromantism rather than aromantism, I personally disagree with that perspective.

You can absolutely be sapioromantic and exclusively attracted towards men, for example. Again, there's a lot of debate re: the idea that sapioromantism/sexuality should only be valid if that's the only thing that drives your attraction, when we allow gay people to have other preferences than gender, while recognizing that the attraction is first conditional to the person having the right type of gender!

In sapiosexuality, the attraction is first conditional to the person having a specific intellect, but then, tons of secondary preferences and/or equally important primary preferences can come into play, including gender.)

He's breaking boundaries and dispelling harmful stereotypes with his portrayal of Jaskier, and bringing attention towards how sexual orientation can be tied into other human features as well.

Jaskier doesn't really see gender when in comes to romantic/sexual attraction, but he's romantically crushing on Radovid's intellect regardless.

Sincerely, with the amount of efforts the actor has made to make it clear that Jaskier's attraction is not gender driven, including saying that Jaskier doesn't really see gender...

... well, do you really want to take that bet that Joey Batey has no idea that sapioromantics and sapiosexuals are people that are romantically and sexually attracted towards other people based on their intellect, and are being used as queer sexual orientations and labels?

If you want definitions, well:

*Note: one misconception people have about sapiosexuality (that this above article sadly leans into a bit) is that sapiosexuals are attracted to "high I.Q.", or people that are labeled as smart by society. While it may be true of some sapiosexuals, many sapiosexuals will have a more qualitive approach to intelligence and fascination towards the way the person's brain works, than a quantitative one.

I personally tend to be more attracted towards neurodivergent brains than neurotypical ones. This, however, is a personal preference of mine, not something I consider as part as my orientation, as I can also be attracted towards neurotypical people. I guess my preference towards neurodivergence is based on the fact that being neurodivergent myself, I have an easier time relating to a neurodivergent partner.

But, if neurotypical, I need to perceive them as being very much geeks, at the very least, to experience any sexual desire.

Like, listening to my partner animatedly talk about lithium car batteries, or watching him play D&D while diving deep into the game, is a huge "turn on" for me (and a very inconvenient one, since it's rarely the right time to act upon it).

And the first time in my life I ever found him sexually attractive was after I'd developed a strong sense of emotional attachment towards him and trust (demisexual), and he started "geeking out" in depth about a subject (sapio / "geeksexual")... I think it might have been "Star Wars"...

Since Radovid displays very specific high levels of emotional intelligence / empathy and insightfulness, it's entirely possible that this would be what Jaskier is more likely to feel romantically and sexually attracted to (this, is my own interpretation as the type of intelligence that turns Jaskier on hasn't been specifically stated).

I've also noticed a tendency in other articles where authors tend to put the emphasis on "high I.Q." rather than simply seeking that intellectual connection and fascination, so this comment also applies to future links and definitions.

Again, many times, those definitions are offered from an outside perspective looking in, and presented in a bit of a scholarly way.

And/or they appear to come from neurotypical sapiosexuals that might, perhaps, perceive intelligence in an academic context, where "high I.Q." is their turn on, as opposed to a fascination with one's intellect that may fall outside society's own perception of intelligence, and/or forget to take into consideration other more specific forms of intelligences such as "musical intelligence".

A sapiosexual could be unable to find anyone sexually attractive unless they heard them skillfully play a musical instrument, for example. And it would still be considered a form of sapiosexuality, because the attraction is triggered by their intellectual ability to understand and produce music.

In the section "demisexuality vs sapiosexuality":

https://eggshelltherapy.com/sapiosexual-demisexual/

They also address the overlaps between demisexuality and sapiosexuality:

So yeah, I don't know why I've given you the impression of being stupid or trolling in my arguments or the way I'm debating those subjects, but I assure you I'm being 100% serious and genuine about it.

i meant to mention this back when season three first came out but uh. i forgor. but. I think the third season of The Witcher really demonstrates how the presence of queerness does not negate the presence of queerbaiting, and that it can in fact be used as a method of sidestepping allegations of queerbaiting.

Like I know I'm not the only one who noticed how aggressively they "no homo" backpedaled the dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt. They did it in a way that was really aggressive and jarring too, like even if you saw zero queercoding you could tell the relationship dynamic was altered in a weird way. There was just such an absolute lack of subtlety with their no-homo'ing? like iirc there's straight up a scene where Jaskier pretty much explicitly is like "i could never see you romantically <3 we r suuuuch bros <3 best buds !" which was such a weirdly transparent attempt at shutting down the previous dynamic established between them.

What's especially wild to me is that in that season they changed the dynamic between Geralt and Jaskier so much that there really wasn't much going on ship-wise between them anyway, regardless of that weirdly explicit declaration of platonic-ness. They didn't even need to do all that !!!!

This weirdly aggressive and sudden change in dynamic at the same time as making Jaskier canonically bi was such a transparent attempt at escaping the queerbaiting allegations lol. Like it was like "yeah we wanna shut this down hard but people will get mad so. here's a canon queer character" lmao

idk. i feel like this may be something that's getting phased out as a tactic to a degree -- or rather, shifting its exact methodology -- but "escaping queerbaiting allegations by introducing a canon queer character" is definitely an established thing i see pretty often. I also think the shift in tactic (from introducing a new side character for that purpose, to canonizing a main character's queerness) isn't actually better when the intent remains the same. Idk ! I'd just be a lot less critical of Jaskier being canonically queer if it weren't so clearly linked to an attempt to sidestep queerbaiting allegations.

[peachycoreroo]

angel | kuroo tetsurou

summary: the only thing that came to mind when you heard the word angel, was your crushes ex girlfriend. so what do you do when suddenly you’re the angel or how a book can bring two people together

pairing: college!kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

genre: smut, a lotta plot tho, basically pwp

word count: 7.9k

warnings: dom!kuroo, fingering, oral fem! receiving, praise, both being extremly needy, it’s not really kinky, slight breeding kink tho, a few spanks, vaginal penetration

authors note: pls don’t even ask about the book thing, this entire thing is based of one of my dreams and i had no idea why the book appeared, but it did and i didn’t wanna leave it out soooo, ye<3 here’s a link to my masterlist

you sighed, as you continued typing your essay. maybe coming to the coffee shop was not the best idea you had, since it was friday and apparently every college student on campus decided it was coffee time after their lecture, but you didn’t expect it to be so overflown with people.

sitting at the far back, you realized that you were not going to get any work done with how loud everyone around you was being, so you just sat back and observed the people around you, while drinking the cheap coffee you ordered earlier. observing and analyzing the behavior of those around you always came natural to you. some guy watching his girlfriend as she was deciding what to order, even though she was taking way too long, with love. a friend group of a few pretty girls walking past a table full of sexist pigs who thought the only way to get their attention was by whistling after them as if they were dogs.  and your crush looking at you.

wait.

huh?

quickly averting your eyes back to your laptop, you could feel your heart rate pick up to an unnatural speed. pretending to suddenly be terribly busy with drinking coffee, a million thoughts ran through your head. you were quite positive that you’ve seen his girlfriend sitting right next to him, so why was he staring so intensely at you?

it’s not as if you never talked. kuroo tetsurou was easily the most interesting person you have ever had the pleasure of having intellectual conversations with. you were taking some business classes in your third semester, since you thought they would be of value for your future. that’s where you met him. kuroo sat next to you since the first day of the lecture but you were way too intimidated by his attractiveness to start the first real conversation beyond greetings, so when the opportunity had arisen, you snatched it right away.

after one of the lectures, he left his phone on the desk and since he was already gone, you took it and hurried after him. just as he was leaving through the huge main doors of your university, you caught up to him and grabbed his arm. embarrassingly, not being the most athletic made you look like a creep as kuroo directed his confused stare at your form, hunched over, breathing hard but still latching onto his arm.

“uh, hi? y/n, right?”, the tall boys’ confusion lightly seeped into his questioning tone as his eyes moved between you and the hand you used to hold him back from walking further.

taking one last deep breath, you forced yourself to stand up right and look into his eyes, but oh, what mistake that was. funnily enough, you never actually looked directly into his eyes, so you didn’t expect to suddenly have to divert all your focus on trying to keep the gasp, you wanted to let out, in your throat. in your memories, from the milliseconds you had the courage to look into his eyes when he greeted you, his eyes were brown but all at once you were confronted with the most beautiful hazel eyes you have ever seen.

as a consequence of having to put all your mental capacity on not gasping out loud or even worse, admitting how attractive he was, the words that came out of your mouth only furthered your embarrassment.

“you. phone. lecture. forgot”, you stumbled over your words as if that were your first attempt at communicating.

feeling your already hot face burn brighter as tetsurous confusion further solidified on his handsome face, you only hoped he thought the running was responsible for you looking like a sweaty mess.

you forced yourself to let out a short laugh as you broke eye contact to gain back your composure. “sorry, I didn’t expect the running to get to me that bad. maybe lev is right, I should try some aerobics with him”, starting to mumble towards the end, you shook your head. “anyway, you forgot your phone on the table in our lecture just now. i didn’t want to hold onto it till thursday and didn’t know where else to find you, so i ran after you. m’ sorry if I kinda freaked you out”, you quickly added while holding out his phone to him.

as you never really talked to the tall man before, your head snapped up to look at him when you heard his deep chuckle. was there something that’s not attractive about this man?

taking the phone from your hands, you were finally able to experience the first full sentence kuroo tetsurou ever directed at you. “well, thanks. i definitely didn’t wanna be without a phone two whole days, so i appreciate you running after me with such determination”, he remarked, as he observed how out of breath you still were, grinning.

“oh god, you know, never doing anything nice for you ever again sounds good right about now”, you groaned, lifting a hand in front of your face to stop him from studying your slightly damp face.

nothing on this green-blue-brown floating rock in space that is also known as the earth, could have prepared you for what you were witnessing next. with your mouth slightly ajar, you looked at tetsurou as he leaned over, clutching his stomach, while letting out the funniest laugh you have ever heard in your life.

in your mind, you saw a quick flash of a scene from ‘the lion king’, in which one of the hyenas was laughing exactly like that. you briefly wondered whether kuroo was influenced by that scene as a kid before you couldn’t keep your laugh in anymore after the initial shock subdued.

“my apologies, the situation was just way too perfect for me to not tease you. i’d be honored if you’d grace me with your kindness again, my highness”, he slightly bowed while, once again, flashing you that sly smirk that made you wanna punch and make out with him at the same time.

you tried to match his energy as best as you could with your head jumbled from the proximity to the man you have been sitting next to every tuesday and thursday from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., but looking back at the interaction, you couldn’t wrap your head around tetsurou wanting to continue talking to you after that conversation.

“i’ll consider it, peasant.”

after that, you and your smart seatmate talked a lot more. you found out that he was majoring in sports management and minoring in chemistry even though it was so different from management, just because he liked it. lev, your best friend at college since the first day when he didn’t see you from his 6’5” point of view and knocked you over as you were looking at the menu in the very coffee shop you were currently sitting in, turned out to be one of kuroo’s old friends from high school. which let you to find out the most unfortunate information about kuroo tetsurou thus far.

as you were walking to your next lecture with the dark-haired man, lev joined in with a tall, blonde, and gorgeous woman by his side. you immediately recognized alisa, lev’s sister. even though the silver-haired boy was ginormous, he couldn’t hold his liquor very well, which resulted in you having to drag the giraffe of a human home after a party quite a few times. there, you met alisa.

wanting to go in for a hug with the beautiful blonde, you froze at once as you tried to process what you were seeing. tetsurou had an arm wrapped around her petite waist, the other one placed on her sharp jaw, as he softly pecked her lips.

lev excitedly started telling you about a new side job he got as a model and while you supported him with your whole heart and were genuinely proud of him for landing that job, you could only zero in on the sight in front of you. your eyes hyper focused on the way his large hands were gently grabbing her waist, your ears on the soft ‘how was your day?’ and flirty ‘better, now that you’re here’ exchanged.

putting on your best poker face and directing your attention to the excited titan beside you, your own reaction startled you. even more surprising was who you were jealous of. you did have a small crush on alisa at the start, who wouldn’t? she’s tall, beautiful, fun, loving, caring, alas she was way too similar to lev to develop a full-on crush on her. then, it dawned on you, that the one you were jealous of, was not tetsurou, but in fact, alisa.

of course, you thought your seatmate was attractive from the first moment you saw him, but how you managed to develop a crush on him without even realizing it, was beyond you. ugly, jealous thoughts made their way into your head about one of the most loveable people you met. those disgusting thoughts slithered their hands around your throat, trying to suffocate you and so you buried that small crush in the back of your mind.

after that encounter you kept your distance to the handsome male. it was better for you, your sanity and everyone involved. in no way were you ever going to go between a loving relationship because of your own selfish feelings.

for crying out loud, you didn’t even know kuroo that well while alisa was like a sister to you. however, you weren’t able to tune out the insecure voices in your head. of course, he liked tall, model-like women who resembled angels not only physically but also with their personality. who were you to compare yourself to her? not even you yourself liked who you were, so why would one of the most attractive guys you ever saw?

you deserved someone good, but alisa deserved the world, so you just wished that tetsurou was the best for her.

and while kuroo tetsurou was a lot of things, he wasn’t ignorant, so when you decided to sit down in another seat in the lecture a few times or made up some excuses as to why he couldn’t walk with you to your next seminar, he knew something was wrong.

which brings you back to right now, with you staring at your laptop, hoping that the boy you’ve been trying to avoid wouldn’t come over to check on you. alas, your luck was apparently all spent, because you could see a tall, dark figure drop themselves on the bench in front of you.

“y/n.”

at the low tone of his voice calling your name, you lifted your gaze from your laptop to look at the boy you were trying to stay clear of.

“hmm? oh, hey tetsurou. didn’t see you there.” bullshit, he thought.

“yeah, ’m here with alisa. just a quick break before she has her next lecture.” while saying that, kuroo focused on your expression, trying to gauge your emotions and maybe get a hint on why you were actively keeping him at arm’s length.

after taking a swift look in the direction the happy couple was sitting just a few minutes ago, you nodded and kept your eyes on your coffee.

“that’s nice, you should probably go back now though. don’t want you to waste precious date time”, you said cheerfully, but weren’t able to keep out the slightly bitter tone out of your voice. that’s exactly why you were trying to stay away from him. the sight of the merry couple only fueled your toxic thoughts about two people you cherished and even though you wished for them to be happy together, the insecurities deep inside you wouldn’t let you.

seeing the slight change in your voice and expression, kuroo cocked his head to the side. did he say the wrong thing?

“she’s already leaving, so i decided to catch up with you for a bit.”

fantastic.

“well,” you remarked while closing your laptop and starting to pack your things, “I also need to get going, was nice seeing you though.”

“i’ll walk you”, was in fact not what you wanted to hear. but the universe hated you for some reason. you looked back at him and waved your hand dismissingly, trying to speedily think of a reason why he couldn’t accompany you: “uh, you see, i, uh... i’m visiting my parents this weekend, so i’ll just take the train. ’m not going back to the dorms.”

even if kuroo would have been stupid and oblivious, which he was not, your hurried attempt at getting rid of him just confirmed all his suspicions. but the ex-captain wasn’t going to let you run away from him so easily.

“no problem, i’ll walk you to the train station. the field i practice volleyball in with lev and a few others is nearby. ‘was gonna head there anyway, let’s go.” this time, he didn’t let you enough time to object, so you were stuck grabbing your things and following him, regardless of what you wanted.

to your surprise, kuroo didn’t say a thing on the way to the train station. you expected him to force you into a whole debate about whether pluto was a planet or not, but he just stayed silent. was that a bit of your luck shining through, or was he angry?

not wanting to push your luck any longer, you stayed silent as well, as you waited for your train at the designated platform. guess you had to make a surprise visit to your hometown because of your little lie, but maybe that was exactly what you needed. some time away to clear your head.

but just as you got excited for the spontaneous trip, kuroo finally dropped what has been on his mind the whole walk or rather, the whole three weeks you’ve been running away from him as if he was on fire and you couldn’t wait to get away from him as far as possible.

“y/n. why are you avoiding me?”, he questioned, looking at the rails ahead, instead of you.

“w-what? i’m not, why would you think that?”, you quickly sputtered out, hardly able to convince yourself of your own lies.

tetsurou gave you a look of complete skepticism, quickly shutting down your protests. “don’t play dumb with me, ’m not stupid. i know you’re not sitting down way further in the back or running out of the lecture on accident. you’re doing this on purpose. even just a moment ago you didn’t want me to escort you. tell me why.”

luckily, the train arrived just on time, so you quickly hoped on with a fleeting 'see you next week' and hoped he would just assume you didn’t quite catch what he said because of the train.

he didn’t though. he knew that you heard him.

the short spontaneous weekend trip turned into you staying for almost two whole weeks because of a cold, so your mom wouldn’t let you return without someone taking care of you, not knowing you had some big news waiting for you once you got back.

“we broke up.”

wou were currently in the library after returning to campus, trying to catch up on some lectures you missed, when alisa entered. together, you were walking around the english literature section, catching up when she dropped the bomb.

“wait, what? how? when? why? huh? what did he do?”, you asked dumbfounded, feeling bad about your two friends, who were so clearly in love, breaking up. but even more than that, you could feel disgust creep up your spine because deep down you knew you were sickly happy about the fact that kuroo was now single. what a shit fucking friend you were.

“relax”, alisa chuckled. “he didn’t do anything, we just kinda came to the agreement that we don’t love each other the same anymore. i felt like he was always distracted the last weeks we were together, always deep in thought, and i decided to concentrate on my graduation and career as a model. it was a great college relationship and i still care for him, we just… we broke up about a week ago.”

“well, as long as you’re both happy with the decision”, you sighed while picking ‘pride and prejudice’ by jane austen from a bookshelf, not feeling like such a piece of shit for being lowkey happy about it anymore, but you still knew you two would never work. even if the breakup was mutually decided, tetsurou was still her ex.

hearing alisa giggle, you turned your gaze from the book in your hand and wondered: “huh? why are you laughing?” the tall blonde only grinned and continued her way down the aisle. completely confused, you followed her with the book still in hand.

“what the fuck? kinda acting sus not gonna lie.”

“wow, I thought you had better jokes than that y/n”, she teased, sitting down at a nearby table.

breathing out some air out of your nose in mock anger, you sat down beside her, tipping your non-existent fedora. “sorry i’m not up to your comedy standards, m’lady.”

alisa laughed loudly before noticing the book you were still holding, her laughter turning into a knowing grin. once again, you shot her a confused look: “what is it with you today? your mood swings are confusing the shit outta me.”

“you know, that’s like one of tetsu’s favorite books.”

“what? 'pride and prejudice'?”, you inquired, puzzled. why was she telling you this? “are you like, having some post-breakup nostalgia or?”

she laughed once again, waving her manicured hand dismissingly and shaking her head: “it just kinda popped into my head. i never read it, but he once wanted to read it to me. it did not end well; i couldn’t take it seriously and had to laugh the whole time. he just gave up and sulked for the rest of the evening.”

“yep, definitely pbn”. the girl shoved your shoulder slightly while snickering before taking out her laptop and working on something, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

as fate would have it, you didn’t really talk to kuroo for the last two weeks of lectures. finals were catching up and you had a lot of exams, leaving you with no time to catch up with the tall boy. plus, you were still trying to avoid him. you weren’t about to give into temptation and try your luck with alisa’s ex, which was much easier if said temptation didn’t walk around looking fine directly in front of you.

but with the weekend starting, you agreed to go to a party with the haiba siblings to treat yourself to a break from typing essay after essay. it was obvious that kuroo would also be there and this time, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. the running had finally caught up to you.

before the party, you decided to go to the library to work on one of your essays, but with how much work there was left, you simply forgot the time. at 10 p.m., your phone rang.

“hello?”

“girl? why aren’t you here yet? and why aren’t you answering our messages? we texted you like a million times”, levs’ questioning voice echoed through the speaker.

quickly checking the time and number of messages you got, you gasped: “oh god, so sorry! i was at the library working on my shitty marketing essay! ’m gonna be right there!”

ending the phone call, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to your dorms. stripping on the way to the bathroom in your one room apartment, you hopped into the shower, feeling as if you were trying to break the world record for the fastest shower known to men.

as you were stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, someone knocked at your door, startling you. did the haiba siblings come to pick you up? with a hasty ‘’m coming’, you hurried to the door in only a towel.

“hey, I just got out of the shower, I just need…” faltering in your sentence, you gripped your towel tighter, trying not to freak out. because there were no alisa and lev in sight. just kuroo tetsurou. while you were standing there. with only a towel on. fuck. “that’s uh… you’re not alisa and lev.”

“er… n-no, no i’m not”, kuroo stuttered out, at least having the decency to avert his eyes to the ceiling, realizing what you had or rather had not on after checking you out. collecting your composure, you shot him a tight-lipped smile and stepped aside to let him in.

“come in, I just need to get dressed and do my makeup. you can wait inside.”

walking past you, the dark-haired man pretended to scratch his head to hide his red ears and quickly surveyed your room. “that’s…”, breaking off his sentence instantly when his voice cracked, he cleared his throat before trying again. “nice room.”

while kuroo tried not to have a mental breakdown and remember what he came here for, you picked up your disregarded clothes from earlier of the floor, being mindful of not to flash the man, and made your way to your wardrobe, chucking in your dirty laundry and scanning your variety of clothes to pick out the most flattering outfit for the party. “uh, yeah, thanks. so, uh, what did you want? ee would’ve seen each other at the party later anyway.”

but there was no answer, making you frown. just as you wanted to turn around, calling his name in confusion, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist loosely, causing you to choke out his name.

kuroo leaned his head down towards your neck, slowly inhaling the scent of your strawberry bodywash before sighing contently. his soft, plump lips slowly trailed up to your ear, creating goosebumps on their way, before lowly murmuring: “you smell delicious. i could eat you up.”

you could feel yourself shiver at the low timbre of his voice and the indication of his words, as your heart rate picked up to the point you had the feeling as though you were going to die right then and there. how did his demeanor change so suddenly? it seemed as if you were in a room with a completely different person.

the ex-captain smugly grinned as he felt your breath quicken and chest heave without him even doing much, tightening one arm around your waist, while his large hand on the other arm splayed itself on your stomach, slowly sliding down towards where you wanted him. “hm? can I do that baby?”

just as quickly as the thoughts of ‘stop, this is so wrong. what about alisa?’ appeared in your mind, they immediately disappeared with the sweet melody of kuroo calling you baby.

not being able to keep a little whine from slipping out at the pet name, you nodded, your cheeks unbearably hot. but that wasn’t enough for him. tetsurou wanted your verbal consent, even if his half-hard cock already slightly twitched at the small noise you let out without him even touching you properly, screaming at him to finally fuck you.

avoiding the area, you wanted him to touch the most, his hand grabbed your thigh, causing you to squeeze your legs together in search of relief. he tsked at your lack of words and lightly spanked your thigh before tightening his grip around the fat, earning him a surprised squeak from you. “no, use your big girl words baby. i want to hear it.”

the instant tetsurou startled you with the spank, you hurriedly grabbed onto his forearms, lightly digging your nails into the muscles. already, everything was getting too much. his smooth voice seducing you, his dominant touch jumbling up your brain, his urgent need to hear your consent, his pleasant scent of a mix of his cologne, mint and husk surrounding you. him, him, him. you wanted more. you needed more. the slick between your legs grew embarrassingly fast, smearing on the inside of your thighs, showing off kuroo’s effect on you evidently.

“please… please touch me tetsu', I need it”, you whimpered out impatiently, making him close his eyes to stop himself from cumming already, your needy voice going straight to his dick standing at full attention. and even though the menace in him wanted to tease you and hear you beg more; he knew that he didn’t have the willpower to deny himself of having you any longer.

as you felt the tall male finally place his hand underneath your towel and cup your pussy, your head rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him full access to your neck. while dragging his middle and index finger through your folds leisurely, his lips and tongue placed hungry kisses on your neck.

“fuck, angel, you’re soaking wet. Is that all because of me, hmm?”, he lowly murmured against your neck, while his fingers simultaneously slowly circled your clit. you couldn’t stop your eyes from lolling to the back of your head or the small whimper that left you, even though the ‘angel’ left a bitter taste in your mouth. as much as the pet name made your stomach all tingly, you always compared alisa to an angel, so it didn’t quite sit well to be called that by her own ex.

but as you felt his middle finger enter you, all thoughts flew out of your head. The only thing on your mind were the raspy praises against your neck and his finger moving at a torturous pace inside you.

“please tetsu', more, I need more”, you complained whiny, because as much as it was all overwhelming, it also wasn’t enough. kuroo could only grin at your eagerness, but couldn’t blame you, since his own patience was speedily wearing thin.

with an uttered ‘everything for you angel’, he added his index finger into the mix, curling the two digits and, not wasting a moment, pumping them into you at a rapid pace, eliciting a quiet moan out of you. the ex-captain noted that you weren’t much of a moaner and mentally made it a challenge to have you crying for him by the end of the night. so, without much warning, his long, thick fingers started hammering against your g-spot while his thumb circled your clit at the same time, making you squeeze your eyes shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream, your hands searching for stability on the closet in front of you.

“c’mon, y/n, baby, i know you want it, fucking give it to me. ‘been fantasizing about this so long, just wanna make you feel good and fall apart for me. show me how much of a good girl you are.” his smooth voice flowed into your ear, seducing you to fully give into him. you felt as if you were being lured by satan himself and you were just a weak little human, not nearly strong enough to resist the whisper of the devil.

with a series of soft, high-pitched moans, you came on his fingers without any warning, your legs giving out at the intensity of it all. tetsurou only tightened his arm around your waist, picking you up without any trouble, making you clench around nothing at his display of effortless strength as he withdrew his fingers from your dripping hole. you thought you heard a small ‘good girl’, but you couldn’t tell for sure with the way you were still floating on cloud nine after he brought you to your orgasm that quickly.

panting and shivering at the goosebumps erupting, you lifted your gaze up at him as he placed you on your bed, only to find him already staring at you with low lids and completely black eyes, the beautiful hazel color of his eyes lost in all the lust and desire that took over his expression.

refusing to break eye-contact, kuroo lifted his with your essence-soaked fingers to his plush lips, wrapping them around the digits and sucking lewdly at them. once again, you felt yourself clench around nothing, rubbing your thighs against each other to get some relief, when you saw his eyes roll back as he tasted you.

the next thing you knew, your back hit the bed with the broad man lying between your spread legs, making you yelp. you could feel the atmosphere around tetsurou change once again. he was a lot more feral than he was before, as if his patience were running out.

his biceps wrapped around your plush thighs, holding you in place since the feeling of his breath against your cunt made your hips twitch up at their own accord, exposing the strong want you had for the man between your legs.

“’m gonna fucking wreck you angel”, he growled against your slit, before diving right in, licking and sucking messily at your clit, your pussy lips, everywhere he could reach. and as much as it shouldn’t feel pleasurable with him being as aggressive as he was, it felt fucking heavenly. you couldn’t help but arch your back, hands flying down to tangle in his messy rooster hair and tugging at the surprisingly soft strands, causing him to moan hoarsely against your sensitive pussy, the vibrations only egging you on. something about kuroo tetsurou losing his usual provocative, teasing demeanor as he ate you out felt so raw and animalistic, that it made your head spin and toes curl.

his large hand crept up your torso and he finally removed the towel that barely hid your breasts from him before palming one, drawing a content sigh out of you at the attention. but as much as he enjoyed listening to you whine and sigh because of the pleasure he was causing you, he wanted, no, needed to hear how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him.

“tell me how it feels angel, tell me how good it feels. ‘wanna hear your pretty voice, baby”, he huskily mumbled against your clit, making you arch your back at the delicious vibrations echoing through your core. but as much as you enjoyed hearing his dirty talk, you felt insecure about yours not turning him on.

preparing yourself mentally as good as you managed with the way he ate you out like a man starved, you allowed yourself a glance down only to see him expectantly observing you. the erotic sight only coaxed another high-pitched whine out of you, your head lolling back against your pillow.

at the next harsh suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips thrusted up against his skilled tongue and you finally gave in to your desire of wanting to tell him how good he was making you feel. only him.

“fuck, tetsu', d-don’t stop. feels so good, you feel so good, only you, please, please, please”, you needily moaned while grinding your hips up, simultaneously pushing his head deeper into your pussy and if kuroo had any self-control left, it was definitely gone now.

his toned biceps tightened around your thighs. his large hands squeezed your breast and hip harshly, leaving bruises for you to discover tomorrow. his able tongue messily switched between being shoved deep inside you and swirling your clit and you could feel the bed shake with how forceful he was humping the bed just from eating you out and hearing you talk like that. every little thing contributed to your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. you were fairly sure you even blacked out for a few seconds because the next time you focused your attention back on tetsurou, he was frantically unbuttoning his jeans, with his shirt already off, whipping out his cock.

you felt your eyes widen as well as your pussy clench, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this horny, but you also weren’t sure how the fuck you were supposed to fit a cock this big and girthy inside you. meanwhile kuroo took off his boxers and contently sighed as he finally started stroking himself, giving himself some relief but it wasn’t enough. not by a long shot.

zoning in on your face once again - sweaty, low lidded eyes, blown out pupils- the impatient boy leaned down and kissed you for the first time that evening. after everything that just transpired between you two, the kiss definitely felt the most intimate, but it was also what you were craving the most from tetsurou for months now.

you didn’t know how to possibly express all the emotions you were currently overwhelmed with, so you tried to translate it all through the kiss. kissing back harder, all teeth and tongue, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing your thighs against his hips, hoping it was enough to convey what you wanted to say.

apparently, it was, because you could hear kuroo lowly growl against your lips before starting to dig his fingers into your hips and grind against you, finally letting you feel him where you needed him the most.

“n-not enough, tetsu'”, you eagerly whined, raising your hips, hoping it was enough to convince him to finally fuck you like you craved him to. but as thin as his patience was at the moment, kuroo tetsurou would not be kuroo tetsurou without his teasing antics.

he slyly grinned, pressing feather-light kisses down from your lips to your throat, making his way to your breasts, where he teasingly kitten-licked your nipples a few times, letting you think you were finally getting what you wanted before he raised his head and stared you down with his almost pitch-black eyes. “mmm, I know you can do better than that kitten”, he gruffly remarked while continuing to grind against you slowly, making you jerk and mewl every time you felt the head of his cock bump against your clit. “what do you want me to do, baby?”

how he still had it in him to tease and deny you, was beyond you, because you were on the edge of breaking down from how bad you wanted him. “’want you to fuck me, tetsu'”, you confidently said while gazing into his eyes, or at least, you tried to sound confident, but you were only able to whine and moan at this point.

kuroo closed his eyes and felt himself twitch against your pussy. you were going to be the death of him. sitting back up on his knees, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your entrance, making you spread your legs automatically wider at the sight.

with one sharp snap of his hips, you both groaned simultaneously, your groan high-pitched, his low and guttural, at the feeling you’ve both been craving for. “fuck, you’re on birth control, right?”, he asked, straining himself as to not just start pounding you into oblivion or cum right on the spot.

“yes, shit”, you breathlessly answered, putting your hands against his toned abdomen as to let him know to wait, which only made him clench his abs at the feeling of your soft hands on his exposed skin. “j-just give me a sec, need a moment”, you murmured avoiding eye contact, suddenly shy at the fact that you were just lying there with kuroo balls deep inside you.

sensing your mood shift, the tall male grinned his cheshire-grin at you and teasingly remarked: “why? am i too big for you, huh?”, hoping it’d make you laugh and relax a bit, soon realizing that the idea completely back-fired on him.

as you started to laugh at his arrogant remark, hitting his abs slightly and telling him to shut up, your core clenched in-sync with your laughter, making you freeze at the sudden loud, almost pornographic moan escaping tetsurou’s lips.

looking up at him, you finally realized how much he was holding back as to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable. the handsome boys’ wild hair was already sticking to the sweat forming on his forehead, his jaw clenched painfully, nostrils flaring, eyebrows furrowed, biceps bulging with how hard he was gripping the sheets beside your hips to restrain himself. the thought of him wanting to fuck you so bad but holding back for your pleasure and well-being, was enough to make you clench down on him again, rolling your hips up against his and declaring: “’m ready, tetsu'. please, f-fuck me”.

with your words and the grinding of your hips, kuroo really couldn’t hold back the little stutter his hips did against yours but fuck, was he embarrassed by it. he felt like a teenager, touching real boobs for the first time all over again, knowing he wouldn’t last long. not with how long he had fantasized about this and with how you reacted to his every move and touch, squeezing him so tight, he felt like he wouldn’t even be able to move.

“’m gonna break you”, and with those final words, his large, veiny hands gripped your hips in a bruising, vice grip, pulling out so only his tip was inside your messy, drooling cunt, before snapping right back in, making you choke on your breath at the impact.

as much as kuroo wanted to bust inside you right then and there, the strong urge to see you lose yourself on his cock while he ruined every other man for you was much more prominent. so, the ex-captain rutted in your pussy like his life depended on it, wanting your moans and mewls and whines to never stop. there was so much that was running through his head while being empty at the same time. the only thought was to bring you both to earth-shattering orgasms, but he also wanted to spit in your mouth, choke you, spank your thighs and ass till you wouldn’t be able to sit tomorrow. he wanted to come on your thighs, your tits, face, but he also wanted to breed you.

you two were definitely way too young for children but he couldn’t get the mental image of you, stuffed with his cum with it running down your legs out of his mind, only making it harder for him not to cum immediately.

but you weren’t doing better either. the pace that kuroo was fucking you at, had you seeing stars, riding you up higher on the bed with every thrust and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you gripped the sheets, his hands, his forearms, your breasts, anything, to try to stabilize yourself as you approached your high embarrassingly fast without your clit even being touched.

just as the thought crossed your mind, you felt tetsus’ calloused fingertips, from years of playing volleyball, circle your clit, causing you to throw your head back with your lips open in a silent scream.

“fuck, you’re so fucking tight kitten, so much better than i ever imagined. cum for me, wanna feel you cream on my fat cock, wanna see you lose your mind baby, give it to me”. at this point, he basically started rambling on about how hot and tight you were, how he wanted you to cum around his cock so badly, how you were gonna make him cum so hard, how you were making such a mess for him, what a good girl you were.

just as you felt yourself almost falling over the edge at the added stimulus to your clit and the filthy praises that were coming out of his mouth, you yanked the boy down by his arm, wrapping your arms around him firmly and kissing him so hard, you were sure you both would have bruised lips later.

with the new position and the intimacy of being pressed up against each other, one more thrust, and you were gone. cumming around his cock so hard, you couldn’t remember the last time someone made you cum that hard, if ever.

the pornographic moans of his name along with some ‘fuck’s and ‘so good’s, the jerking of your body against his and the vice-grip of your pussy on his dick as you came. it was all too much for the poor boy who didn’t even cum once the whole time, while you already had three orgasms under your belt. the last straw was your quiet, little ‘cum inside tetsu', want you to fill me up’ and so, a few short, sloppy thrusts later, kuroo buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly as he came inside, spurting hot, white cum against your abused walls.

the feeling of being filled up to the hilt by kuroo tetsurou was intoxicating. you whined, wrapping your legs around his hips, caging him in so he couldn’t pull out, not wanting the moment to end.

you both lied there, trying to catch your breath. as he pulled out after a few moments and got up to go grab a towel to clean you up, your hand caught his. “don’t go, where are you going?”, you whined needily, wanting to cuddle, to worn-out to care about the mess gushing out of your hole onto the bed sheets.

chuckling, the tall boy leaned down, kissing your forehead: “’m not going anywhere angel, I’m just gonna grab a towel and clean you up”. with that he retreated to the bathroom in search of a towel to use.

you, on the other hand, suddenly sobered up from your drunk-on-lust high at the pet name, making you realize what you just did. fuck, you just banged alisa’s ex-boyfriend. they weren’t even broken off for that long and you already betrayed her.

feeling like a bad friend and complete whore, you didn’t even register said ex-boyfriend was back, making you flinch at the sudden contact of your sensitive pussy with the wet, rough towel.

“relax baby, it’s just me”, he teasingly chuckled, while cleaning you up. when he didn’t hear you chuckle or bite back at his teasing, his expression morphed into a frown, lifting his gaze from your core to your face. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, thanks.” but of course, you were lying. the panic that slowly settled in your chest was threatening to suffocate you. hell, you weren’t even able to look at him properly.

you felt kuroo grab your chin with his fingers gently, turning your head so you had to look at him. tetsurou was completely serious, he only hoped you weren’t regretting what just transpired between you two, as he repeated: “what’s. wrong?”, emphasizing those two words so you knew there was no point in lying.

feeling your eyes water up, you cursed yourself for showing weakness, since you weren’t one to cry often, especially in front of other people. “what are we going to tell alisa?”

that caught him off guard. “alisa?”, he repeated questioningly, as if he didn’t know what you meant. how could he not know? was he that stupid?

you sat up, rubbing at your eyes frantically with the rising anger inside your chest. “yeah, alisa. your ex. the one that’s like a sister to me. how am I supposed to look her in the eyes after what we just did?”

kuroo wasn’t stupid. you could vouch for that any day. you saw him in your lecture, and you had studied a lot with him, but right now, you were sure he was the dumbest person you ever knew, even beating lev. because even after explaining, he still only looked at you with a confused gaze, saying: “i don’t quite follow?”

groaning, you ran your hands through your hair in frustration, declaring: “you’re really smart, but you’re being so fucking dumb right now. how the fuck am I supposed to talk to one of my closest friends after I fucked her ex-boyfriend, who she loved by the way, not even that long after they broke up?”

finally, it clicked in kuroo’s brain. but the last thing you expected, was to hear him laugh. your head snapped up at the sound, glaring at him you almost growled: “what the fuck’s so funny, you fucking bedhead?”

“oh wow, throwing in the insults huh?”, he said between chuckles. “it’s funny because alisa was the one who encouraged me to come here tonight, though I don’t think she wanted us to outright fuck but, you know.”

what now?

“what do you mean she encouraged you to come here?”, you interrogated perplexed. suddenly he was acting all shy and sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with his big hand, avoiding your eyes.

“well… we’re still friends, so we were talking about our lectures a week ago and she suddenly mentioned how you also were a fan of 'pride and rejudice'. i just… got kinda excited at that, since alisa wasn’t really interested in things like that, so i started asking her about it. she then called me out on my crush on you, saying she already knows why i was so distracted the weeks leading up to our break-up, thinking about you.”

while listening, your anger slowly morphed into nervousness at kuroo openly admitting he also had a crush on you, but you wanted him to finish his story before addressing the elephant in the room.

“i apologized immediately, thinking she was angry at me, but you know her. she was so sweet, saying she would only be happier if it worked out between us. after, she tried to set us up to talk to each other, but you avoided me like the plague, so she told me to come here before the party since you were running late, to confront you and settle it once and for all but uh…”, he sheepishly smiled, “i kinda got distracted when you opened the door in only a towel, so… that didn’t go as planned.”

sitting with your mouth agape in a ‘o’, your brain tried to process all the information, not knowing what to say to his confession and explanation.

“soooo… she’s not gonna hate me and cancel our friendship?”, you carefully pressed, just to be sure. “no, I don’t think she will”, he chortled.

“oh.”

with that, the room was suddenly extremely silent, making you and kuroo even more nervous. clearing his throat, he couldn’t take the silence anymore. “are you gonna give me an answer to my confession, or am I like, totally embarrassing myself right now?”

“uh, no, yeah”, you softly giggled at his obvious anxiousness. taking his face between your hands, you looked right into his hazel eyes in the dim lighting, before gently smiling at him.

“i like you too, nerd.”

bonus:

the next morning, you woke up to your phone aggressively vibrating on your nightstand beside your bed. you blindly reached out, picking up the call without even opening your eyes, clearly still half-asleep.

“hello?”, you groggily asked your caller, wondering who the fuck was calling you this early, when lev’s voice filled your ear. “y/n? hey, we we’re worried about you yesterday. why didn’t you show up? it was so much fun”, the big, over-grown baby whined.

looking down at the reason you weren’t able to attend the party sleeping soundly with his head on your chest, you smiled, carding your fingers softly through his raven-black hair.

“just… reasons”.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Mess is Mine

(This is a non-snz fic despite the title!)

Based on a request from @iseeagirlwithbrightredhair. The prompt: "This ideas been going round in my head for a few days and I had to share! A & B have broken up and A had to go back to their place to pick up a few things, only when they get there they find Bs really sick. Now they’ve got to deal with that on top of old feelings and Bs stubbornness." Thank you for the prompt! I loved it, and I’m so sorry it took so long to finish this!

I originally introduced forty-year-old Thad Tenbusch and his partner JB in this story. The fic you're currently reading is set 20 years in the past, around approximately 2001 when the guys are in their early twenties and full of all the college emotions. 

Buckle up for some angst with a happy ending and of course illness, which always adds a further delicious level to the angst. 

The only reason he was driving all this way was to grab his albums–Thad reminded himself of that over and over again during the course of the two hour trip. Well, his albums and the last of his clothes. Things he needed for the summer. Things he would miss if he didn't grab them soon. It was simply an errand to grab his items, and said errand certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with the person currently possessing said items.

He and JB weren't right for each other. That's all there was to it. It didn't matter that JB was the smartest, kindest, most loyal person he'd ever met, or that he was happier with JB than he could ever remember being before. What did matter was that whenever they were together, they found themselves in an endless cycle of disagreement and misunderstanding. Nothing was ever simple between them, and nothing proved that more clearly than the fact that Thad wasn't even completely sure they had broken up. They had simply parted ways in high tempers after an argument over three weeks ago, and hadn't spoken since.

 In truth, it was due to this state of limbo that Thad had decided to make this trip to JB's house, though he would never admit that to anyone but himself. If they were breaking up, he wanted to know it for a fact, and if they were breaking up he also wanted to reclaim custody of his precious music before JB assumed custody of it by default. For the sake of his music collection, and the sake of his sanity, this drive was a necessity.

As his journey neared its completion, Thad began to grow nervous, though. He hadn't warned his (ex?) boyfriend he was coming. His initial reasoning had been that he didn't want JB to leave or pretend he wasn't home when he arrived. However, such immaturity wasn't in JB's character, and Thad knew it was a weak argument at best. Yet he couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone and call before he left. He refused to be the one to break the silence between them, so he would be arriving unannounced, and while Thad knew it was unfair to blindside JB with this visit, he found he couldn't bring himself to care. 

In due time, Thad arrived at the Dodge summer home where JB had been living for the last few semesters due to its proximity to the university. The house and yard were as pristine and borderline sterile as ever. Thad suppressed a little shiver as stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. There was no turning back now. 

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he strode to the front door. It took another moment of standing on the porch before he could bring himself to knock, though. His mind was whirling with too many thoughts, many of them contradictions to each other, and he still had no clue what he was going to say, or how he was going to explain his presence. He reminded himself once more that he was just here for his albums… and hopefully an explanation for the past three weeks of silence. Plastering on what he hoped was a pleasant smile, Thad finally raised a hand and knocked firmly.

JB didn't answer the first series of knocks. Or the second. This caused Thad to glance at the garage in concern, but he could see JB's car within. So then he couldn't have gone far… unless he rode with someone else. Panic began to build in Thad's chest as he knocked a third time. Had he driven out here for nothing? Should he wait around for JB to return? How long would it be acceptable to wait?

Thankfully his worries were unnecessary. Just as Thad was about to knock for a fourth and final time, he heard the sound of movement inside. Finally the front door opened, and there stood his (ex?) boyfriend, looking dignified and handsome as ever. However, clearly all was not well with JB. He was dressed in a robe and pajama pants, and his hair was a disheveled mess which it appeared he had tried to hastily fix with his hands. He was pale and clammy-looking, aside from the deep bruising under his eyes, and the light breeze that blew in through the doorway made him shiver miserably. 

"Thad? What are you doing here?" the taller man croaked, pulling his robe closer around himself as he muffled a cough into his sleeve.

"JB, hey… I was just in the neighborhood, and remembered I had left a few of my albums here, so I decided to see if I could grab them from you."

"Ah. Your albums. I should've known." It seemed JB was going to say more, but a chesty coughing fit snuck up on him, preventing him from speaking.

Thad frowned. "If you don't mind me asking… are you sick?"

"Very observant," JB said wryly, rubbing his chest with a wince. "Yes, I'm definitely sick. I've had a cold all week. Ever since the semester ended. Turned into a chest cold a few days ago."

"Oh I'm… sorry to hear that. Obviously I wouldn't have barged in on you… if I had known, you know."

"Maybe you should've called before you came over, then," JB said flatly. 

"Right, yeah… like I said, I was just in the neighborhood, so I didn't have much of a chance," Thad replied lamely.

"Right," JB repeated, unimpressed. "Well since you're here, go ahead and grab what you came for. I won't stop you."

He stepped to the side, allowing Thad to enter. As Thad crossed the threshold though, JB was forced to turn aside to cough harshly into his elbow yet again. 

"That's quite the cough," Thad tried again, this time with some concern. 

"Don't, Thad. Just grab your stuff and go so I can go back to bed," JB said. 

Had anyone else said that to him, Thad would have immediately gotten angry. But it wasn't just anyone, it was JB. And JB didn't sound angry or resentful or spiteful… he just sounded tired. And sick. 

The words still stung though, and Thad scowled, shoving clenched fists into his pockets. "Fine. Are the records still in your room? And my clothes?"

"Yes," JB grunted, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand. 

"Good. Then I guess I'll be right back." Thad turned on his heel with a huff, striding back to JB's room, and JB didn't follow. It was only a matter of minutes to find his things; they hadn't been touched since he was last here. He was returning to the living room in minutes, cradling the records in his arms. 

JB was lying on the couch with an arm flung over his eyes. The area surrounding him was littered with books, used dishes, and medicine. Thad approached hesitantly. 

"Thought you wanted to be in bed. Why are you laying out here? We both know that couch sucks," Thad attempted once more.

JB uncovered his eyes and leveled a long, scrutinizing stare at the other man. For a moment, Thad wondered if he was going to reply at all. Then JB lay back down, covering his eyes again. "It's warmer out here. And darker," he said grudgingly. 

"Ah. I thought your room looked too neat to be a sick person's room."

"My room is always neat. Being messy is your thing."

"It is not my thing. And no one's room is neat when they're sick. Not even you, O King of the Used Mugs," Thad said, gesturing to the cluttered coffee table. "But I like seeing you be a little messy. Makes you seem almost human," he gently teased, trying to coax out a smile from the other man.

Instead JB's scowl deepened below his arm. "Glad to know you think I'm not human, Thad," he said sharply.

Thad clenched his fists again, thankful JB couldn't see this time. JB knew all of his tics and how to interpret them. Thad took a deep breath to calm himself. "You're certainly crabby. Must mean you're running a fever."

JB shifted, finally moving his arm to meet Thad's eyes, still frowning. "There's no correlation between those two things."

"My ass there isn't. How many stress fevers have I seen you get during exams every semester? And with every cold you've ever gotten? And you're the biggest crab-ass every single time."

Thad's last few words were drowned out by a deep, rattling coughing fit from JB. Before he realized what he was doing, Thad was kneeling at JB’s side, stroking the other man’s hair soothingly. He didn't move until JB's breathing had steadied and most of the hectic color had faded from his face. Only then did Thad slowly stand once more.

"You've definitely got more than a cold this time, though," he said slowly. "This fever is the highest I've ever felt on you."

JB could only shrug, rubbing his chest. "I've been taking medicine for it," he rasped, barely above a whisper. 

"You poor thing," Thad tutted. "Can't your family come stay with you until you're better? Or bring you home?"

"They're out of state on vacation for the rest of the month," JB mumbled. "I didn't want them to have to come home early." He met Thad's eyes, his own eyes hardening. "But I don't need anyone to stay with me. I'm twenty-one. I can take care of myself."

Thad rolled his eyes. "You're so stubborn. I'm twenty-one too, and I still like having other people around for company when I'm sick."

JB didn't reply, but an angry, bitter look crossed his face.

 Thad sighed wearily, taking a step toward the kitchen. "Let me get a cool rag for your face. You're burning up."

"Don't bother, Thad. You've got your stuff. Just go!" JB snapped. He paid for raising his voice though as he quickly succumbed to a barking coughing fit. 

Thad patiently waited for him to finish. "Why are you pushing me away?" he asked quietly. 

"Because I don't need your pity, and you don't need to do this."

"I'm not pitying you! I *want* to do it!"

"Why?" JB challenged, his stare unwavering even as he trembled with fever chills. 

"Because I care about you! Very very much! That hasn't changed!"

Silence fell for a handful of breaths. 

"Then why did you leave that night?" JB asked, so quietly he was hardly audible. 

Thad exhaled slowly, pushing aside dishes and tissues to sit down on the coffee table, facing the other man. "Because that's… what I thought you wanted."

"Why would you–" JB was forced to interrupt himself to stifle a cough into his fist– "Why would you think that?"

Thad shrugged. "We were arguing. You said I was, and I quote, 'being ridiculous and completely impossible to talk to.' "

"Then you asked if that meant I thought we shouldn't be together," JB said carefully.

Thad nodded. "And you didn't reply. You just looked at me. So I left. And you didn't follow me. Or call. Or send a letter. Hell, you could've sent a carrier pigeon. But you didn't."

"Because you LEFT. YOU left. Not me. You chose to go, so I wasn't about to chase after you," JB shot back.

A series of emotions flitted across Thad's face. "Well I'm back now, aren't I?" he said at last. 

"For your albums."

"For answers," Thad corrected. "Or an answer, anyway." He shifted, fidgeting. "Clearly I left too soon that night. I didn't really give you the chance to answer the question I asked. I'd really like to hear what you have to say." He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But I'll tell you right now, no matter what you answer, I'm staying here to take care of you, at least until your fever is down. You shouldn't be alone like this, regardless of our relationship status. I'm organizing a coup of the messy living room and putting myself in charge until further notice."

Without further ado, he strode into the kitchen with a handful of dirty dishes, leaving JB to think on all that was said. When Thad returned, he immediately went to the sick man's side, pressing a cold, wet rag to either side of JB's neck before letting it rest on his forehead. JB, sighed in relief at the coolness, though the sigh caught in his throat and turned into a weak cough.

"Here, drink," Thad encouraged, pressing a straw to JB's lips. He complied willingly enough, sucking down most of the glass of water Thad held. 

"Thank you," JB croaked tiredly.

"It's the least I could do. You look so completely miserable," Thad murmured sympathetically.

"I feel miserable," JB agreed. 

"Do you need anything else right now?"

JB shook his head.

"That's fine. I'll make dinner for us soon. Something that'll be easy on your throat. Maybe some Tikka Masala. Extra mild."

"You really are planning to stay?" JB asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Absolutely. For as long as you need me to."

"You came back. And you're staying," JB repeated, as if trying to process the information.

"I did and I am," Thad confirmed. 

"In that case… I have the answer to your question."

"You don't have to–"

"I want to," JB interjected, which of course caused him to cough in a sharp, protracted burst. Thad was at his side in a moment, rubbing his back until he quieted. 

"I'm keeping you talking too much, poor guy," Thad said, sitting back down on the coffee table.

"This is important." JB adjusted himself so he was sitting up straighter. "That night you essentially asked me, 'Do you think we shouldn't be together,' correct?"

Thad hesitated, then nodded. 

JB also nodded. "At the time I didn't reply right away because I wanted to answer as truthfully as possible. I wanted to be sure." He cleared his throat roughly with an annoyed shake of his head and rubbed his chest with a grimace before continuing. "We disagree a lot, and I don't foresee that changing. Things are never going to be 'easy' between us, because neither of us do 'easy'. But I do know that when we're together, I can truly say I’m content. With you, I actually want to think about the future for the first time in my life, as long as you're in it. So I don't think we should be together–I KNOW we should be."

There were tears in Thad's eyes as he half-stood, wrapping JB in a bone-crushing embrace, which the sick man fervently returned. 

"You're gonna catch my cold doing this," JB mumbled into Thad's shoulder, yet not loosening his grip.

"Like I give a f*ck," Thad replied. After a final, hard squeeze, he finally pulled away, but maintained eye contact as he grasped JB’s forearms. "The only reason I'm letting go right now is because you can hardly breathe as it is."

"Thanks for that," JB grinned. "So I take it you want to be with me also?"

"That's a definite yes. What, you actually thought I drove all the way here just for my albums?"

"Yes. That wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. You love your music more than anything."

"Maybe. But not more than any *one*." Thad corrected. 

"No, I suppose not," JB said with a tiny smile, lying back against the pillows once more, clearly lacking the strength to sit up any longer. 

"But hey, you've talked enough for today. Your voice is totally gone," Thad soothed. He pressed the back of his hand to JB's forehead, then cheek, then neck. "We need to get that fever under control. I'll get another rag." He turned to go, but JB caught him by the hand, their eyes meeting.

"Hey Thad? Thank you. For coming back," JB croaked, barely discernible.

"Always, Thad grinned, squeezing his hand. "You're stuck with me now. Mess and all."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

[vile-wizard]

Ok so I'm not doing the whole D&D lore dump all you need to know is one guys name is Nicodemus and the other guy is Ebros. Nick is a changling who had the hots for a fae queen. They got "married" (warlock pact with rings) and now he's immortal. Unfortunately their love was not. So now they're unofficially divorced and she won't redact his immortality out of spite. Nick spends his years collecting exotic pets & playing business man with various identities. These shenanigans keep him busy and prevent him from going insane due to the immortality. However he's very out of touch with stuff like "ethics", which I'll get to in a moment.👍

Ebros is complicated because he's technically the hero of this story (everything happens to him) so he has a ton of backstory. I'm not going to bother with that but what you need to know is he's a warlock who makes his living as a bounty hunter. He is a compulsive liar who loves jokes abd frequently plays dumb for the hell of it. He is great at fighting and being a homosexual. His body count is high in both ways. He's incapable of being honest & serious so his personal relationships are often extremely shortlived and/or based in total fiction....

ANYWAY when Ebros meets Nick is is going through a mega rough patch, having just witnessed the death of many people he cared about and inadvertently brought harm to a person he maybe loved?? He is laying low with a buddy of his, a reanimated skeleton with memory loss and 2% sanity (he is sort of harmless but has delusions of being a dentist).

The Skeleton realizes that his poor fleshy friend Ebros is in a bad way so he drops him over at Nick's for some R&R. (Said skeleton is the only other immortal Nicodemus knows besides his *clenches fist* bitch ex wife so they interact every so often and Nick tries to ignore the fact that this guy is completely insane. It's actually pretty tragic you just have to take my word for it.) Nick is fortunately rich and bored so this really isn't much of an issue for him. He also likes the idea of helping out a depressed drugged up charity case. It makes him feel like he's making a difference in the world! Also (more realistically) Nicodemus likes feeling better than other people and it's so easy to feel morally superior when you're taking care of a guy who has 0 of his shit together. Ebros, of course, tries to leave but Nick always finds him again. The attempts to leave are half hearted because Ebros is actually injured pretty badly and some part of him knows he needs to heal properly. Plus Nick's house is big and stupid and he has a pet crocodile which is crazy so he's not too bored...he obviously insults and makes fun of Nick whenever he can and Nick accepts the ridicule with grace knowing that he can always kick him out or spy on him if he wants to. Which he secretly does with his familiar (the pet crocodile is not what she seems!) This is justified because he's essentially on suicide watch, I mean what else can he do? All the while Nicodemus does not reveal that he is 1. A shapeshifter 2. Immortal 3. A warlock. These are all things he keeps secret from the general public and Ebros is no exception.

I should also mention that Nick has his own law firm, law being one of his passive interests at the moment. Ebros is kept separated from Nick's work at first but he eventually finds his way in and meets several of his employees and associates. I'm going to skip over the office life because I did make a bunch of lawyers. Ebros starts sleeping with a dweeby looking divorced 35 yr old ex-punk rocker who haaaates his boss (Nick) and his job and everything which automatically endears Ebros to him. Their relationship isn't serious though it's mostly just about smoking weed and complaining (Ebros is also pretending to be an employee of Nick's). He REALLY hits it off with this guy named Keegan and that is where the trouble begins.

Keagan is Nick's semi wealthy fire gensai friend. They've known each other for a few years, do charity events together, fucking skii trips, shit like that. Keegan's dream is to make a positive impact on the criminal justice system (HAHAHAHAHA) and wants to be a criminal lawyer who takes pro bono cases (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA). Nick thinks this is laughable cute but he encourages him like a good mentor should. Keegan has met Ebros several times when visiting and they spend a lot of time chit chatting about dogs, house plants, philosophy, what temperature to bake scones at...gay people shit. Keegan believes that Ebros is a recovering addict who got into a bad scrape that Nick is housing for an extended period of time, which is not too far from the truth....Ebros is very unusually shy around him because Keegan radiates a kind of otherworldly and saintly good will. He inspires a rare kind of sincerity in Ebros which is ordinarily very hard to come by. Like, Ebros doesn't even hide his hobbies and interests like he normally does! Yay!

Nick does not like that shit at all.

First of all it's insane that Ebros is soooo taken in by this naiive little fruit individual who thinks everything is just sunshine and daisies while Nicodemus THE ACTUAL LAWYER gets no respect whatsoever even though he's been very kind and very generous and set aside work to basically babysit Ebros for weeks on end. And he never got confided in, oh no. It was just backtalk. Also? Honestly? Nicodemus doesn't want to deal with them becoming an item. He doesn't hate gay people but it would be VERY annoying if Ebros was suddenly just attached in a substantial way to Keegan of all people. Nicodemus was the one actually doing the hard work of turning him into a regular person and spending money on him (Note: up until then Ebros has been receiving small amounts of money from Nick but his spending is regulated. No drugs. Ebros doesn't like this but more on that later.) and housing him. It was all just very infuriating!!!!!!

Another factor that contributed to Nicodemus's distaste towards the two was obviously a sort of.....strange......sexuality crisis. Nicodemus had noticed early on that Ebros wasn't very picky when it came down to what Men to Bed. Nicodemus had been a straight(ish) man for several hundred years so he really couldn't care less (worth noting that despite being a sexless shapeshifting creature Nick was raised by his 'adopted' parents as a cishet man. There was no room for gender experimentation in that household and that mentality stuck loooong after his parents death.) Not his problem. Upon arrival Ebros was frequently disastrously lewd in speech and manner in front of him which Nick IMMEDIATELY shut down. It's actually impossible to have a conversation with Ebros without some kind of innuendo sneaking in but its just his way of speaking. Anyway. I'm losing the plot here because it's almost 8am I need to pause and take my pills. I'll keep going in a second because this is just the tip of the iceberg we haven't even started yet .

I can't fall asleep and I want to post about the OCs I made in high school and the toxic homophobic relationship I put them in........help......

[alltooreid]

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing. 

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None! 

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . .  Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”                    

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . .  Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup​ @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup​ @s1utformgg​ @averyhotchner​ @widow-cevans​ @rotinireid​

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :))

[221bshrlocked]

masked in desperation

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6044

Warnings: Verbal Degradation. Physical Humiliation involving Din making reader wet herself. Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Non-Protective Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong por favor). Rough then Soft Din. Don't worry, this is consensual and there is aftercare involved.

No summary because I don't even know what to call this? All you guys need to know is that this fic is based on/inspired by the following asks [x] [x] [x] [x]

A/N: Uhhh this is new for me so I'm sorry if I didn't get the dynamic involved with a humiliation kink right. Please let me know how I could correct anything should there be something off. This was supposed to be rougher...but I turned soft midway because nervous Din makes me warm. I hope you like it nonetheless though. Comments are hella appreciated. And you can add yourself to the taglist here. Enjoy and please don't @ me once you finish this fic. And I apologize that it took long, this semester was hell.

It was an act of crazed desire concealed beneath irritation and anger, irritation with you for managing to claw yourself into his heart and anger at himself for allowing you to do so freely. He couldn't deny his feelings anymore, not if he wanted to retain whatever sanity he had left around you. What started out as nothing but stress relief and a way to help with the pain left behind by Grogu leaving turned into Din wishing he could stake his claim on you every moment of every day so you wouldn't seek anyone else out. Not that he genuinely believed you would. Still...

And it wasn't like this was any different from what the two of you usually do. At least that's what he says to excuse his twisted behavior, to not dwell too much on his sick, possessive fantasies.

It was driving him mad. He wanted to mark you up, always did during those passionate nights, loved watching as you tried, and failed, to cover up his love bites and handprints from the guild members. But he also craved to feel the same way. He wanted to bear traces of you on him so people knew how much he cared for you, perhaps even recognized the hold you have on him. The only problem was, no one would ever see the angry nail scratches and bite marks you left every night on his skin because of his beskar. So this, this would do the trick, even if it was barely noticeable, even if it would be gone when he washed his beskar, even if the two of you would be the only ones who knew what happened behind closed doors.

The weird thing was, he doesn't even know how he got to this point. Well, that's not true. He can actually trace his way to this moment, but he feels ashamed to do so? Reluctant maybe. It didn't matter what he was feeling at this point. All he knew was that he needed to watch you as you humiliated yourself in front of him, and had no power to do anything about it. Perhaps it was because, deep down, he wanted to show you that he'd accept you no matter what. He wanted to prove to you that he may just be worthy of having you in his arms. He wanted to assure you that he would be committed to you until his dying breath. And this, in some way, was the solution.

Before he can reevaluate and dwell too much on his decision, he fills a cup with water and heads towards you, ignoring the Marshal's glances as he approaches you and taps on your shoulders.

"Yeah?" You turn around, and Din forces himself to stand his ground when he sees your smile growing wider as you take the water from his hand. "Oh aren't you sweet. Careful, or else they'll think you're growing soft." You tease him as you down the cup of water and hand it back to him before returning to fixing the ship. He says nothing as he walks back towards the cantina, and resumes his quiet meditation.

And that's how it goes for the next couple of hours. He brings you a cup of water every so often, murmuring something or other about how he doesn't have time to take care of you if you suffered from a heat stroke before leaving immediately. Din quietly thanks the maker for your discomfort with public refreshers, because this plan wouldn't have worked if you decided to go to the cantina or elsewhere to relieve yourself. He's locked his ship's refresher and made sure to not be anywhere in sight when you sought him out to ask about the issue with the door.

He feels himself grow harder when he notices you squirming as you work on the ship, softly palming himself through his pants when you halt your movements every couple of minutes to either cross your legs or push your hand between your thighs to attempt and alleviate some of that pain. A part of him feels horrible for putting you through this, but something tells him it will be worth it in the end. Din Djarin isn't a man of prayer, but he pleads to whatever higher power that created you that this wouldn't backfire and make you leave him.

As the twin suns slowly set beneath the sky, Din moves away from where he's been hiding and heads towards the ship, making sure he is in your line of sight as he walks up the ramp and towards his armory. He quickly takes out the durasteel cuffs from where he's set them, hiding them behind his back as he pretends to head towards the cockpit.

However, he stops when he sees you rushing past him and setting all of your tools aside. You're mumbling angrily beneath your breath when things begin to fall over, growling when you try to fix them a couple of more times, and they continue to fall.

"Motherfucking shit," Din hears you swear as you carelessly try to set the box again and it falls over. Shaking your head, you turn around and sprint past him again towards the refresher. His eyes never leave your shaking form as you push on the refresher button numerous times and nothing happens.

"Pfassk! Din, how angry would you be if I broke this fucking door right now?" You try to grab the gun on his holster but he is quicker than you, slamming his hand on your own to prevent you from taking it.

"Extremely." His answer is short and straight to the point, mostly because he can't trust himself to respond to you without giving himself away.

"God please I- I need..." You hesitate and try to remove your hand from him, only to feel his hold tighten around your wrist. He thought you'd break and confess what you needed to do due to your desperation, but you don't, holding your tongue and looking up at him quizzically when he removes your wrist and clasps one side of the cuff on them.

"Din, what- what're you doing?" You look down and watch as he clasps the cuffs on your other wrist and ensures that they aren't too tight around your wrists before he locks them. Before you can ask him again, Din drags you across the ship and into the cockpit, ignoring your annoyed murmurs as he sits down and pulls you onto his lap.

You squirm around and try to get up but Din’s hold on your waist tightens and he slides you against his beskar until you fall into his chest. He says nothing as you push away and try to maneuver yourself so your legs aren’t wide open. He chuckles lowly when he sees how much you’re struggling, finally allowing you to put some space between the two of you. You rest your back against the controls board and take a few deep breaths before you stare at him.

“Can you please let me go?” You ask patiently, and hope he sees how genuine and serious you’re being. When he sits back but keeps his hold on you, you know he isn’t going to make this easy.

“Why?”

“Because I- I need to take care of something,” you look away when you respond and Din feels his cock twitch in his pants at the sudden shyness taking over.

“How about you let me take care of you?” He takes his gloves off and throws them aside, smiling to himself when he sees you shiver as he moves his hands up and down your body. You watch him like a hawk and you feel yourself growing wet for a moment, but you realize this reaction is the last thing you want to experience in his presence right now.

“Wait Din- just...it’s not like that.” You bite your lower lip and stifle a moan when he cups your tits and softly flicks at your hardened nipples.

“No? And yet here you are melting at my touch...your body knows me mesh’la, it’s blooming for me and I’ve barely touched you. Sweet girl, don’t you want me to make you feel good? I’ve been thinking about you all day long, about kissing you until you’re breathless...and biting you until you have my mark everywhere. Don’t you want me to show you just how much I’ve missed you?” Din knows he’s not being fair but the way your eyes are glowing with lust is enough to ground him so he could carry out his plan.

“I- I do...fuck, Din- I really do. I barely think of anything else...but I really need to-” You shut your eyes and groan as soon as you feel Din’s hand descend down your chest and rest on your lower stomach. He supports your back as he slowly begins to push against your navel, watching with fascination as your face contorts from pain and pleasure the harder he pushes on your muscles. You’re not sure what’s happening for a few seconds until you manage to open your eyes and look at him. His visor prevents you from seeing what he’s thinking but none of it matters when you feel him shift underneath you before he eases up. You sigh in relief but Din repeats his actions, only this time, he’s becoming a little more aggressive with his touches.

"N-no wait please I-"

"What's the matter mesh'la? You're usually fucking me like a loth-cat in heat by now, begging for me to have my way with you...take what I want until you feel properly fucked and filled with my cum." Din leans forward, never once easing up as he begins to move you over his beskar-clad thigh. There’s not much you can do due to the cuffs and how much advantage Din has over you in terms of muscle and size so you do the only thing that’s left.

You beg.

"Please, please Din I- I just...I need to-" It takes every ounce of control not to let go of your body’s function and you realize you’re not making much sense when Din cuts you off again and asks you what you want.

"Need to what? Go on sweet girl, tell me. What do you need?" His motions become more rough as he alternates between shoving his hand against your bladder and moving your clothed heat across his thigh. Din wants nothing more than to push you to the floor and fuck you until you can’t remember anything but him, but he tries his best to keep himself in check until he gets what he wants.

"I'll do anything Din just...need the- the refresher. I'm so- so...maker, please wait-" The controls dig into your back the more you lay on them but you can’t find it in yourself to care because a different kind of pain shoots down your spine when Din brings you closer to him and hikes your shirt up. His palms are warm against your skin and you hate how good they feel because this was not how you saw the day going with him.

"You know the safeword. Say it if you want me to let you go and I will." His tone shifts and you throw all caution aside as you confess to him why you need to leave.

"Din please...I really need to pee. I- I'll come back right away but I- oh it's too much, t-too much." You think he’s going to apologize and let you go when you tell him but all your admission does is cause him to momentarily stop before he wraps his arms around you and stands up. He’s pushing you up against the wall, not caring for what you just said to him or how rough he’s being as he nudges his leg in between your thighs and resumes his antics from before.

"I know."

The curt response washes over you like ice and your eyes begin to water as soon as Din takes off his helmet and you see him smiling down at you. You don’t know that you’re shaking in his arms but he leans down and nuzzles into the crook of your neck to commit the moment to memory. He loves the effect he’s having on you and although a small part of him feels bad, he doesn’t bother or care to hold back as he brings himself flush against you, the action causing his beskar to push deeper against your navel and have his desired effect.

"Din?" He thinks your whimpers might make him cum right then and there but he takes a deep breath before he pulls away and looks down at you. He’s sure that his eyes don’t convey an ounce of guilt at the moment, the opposite actually, and it only brightens his smile as he pulls down your tank top strap far enough to give him access to the top of your breasts. Din moves closer to you and lays lazy kisses across your heated skin, all the while attempting to grab your attention so he could tell you what he wanted.

"Why do you think I kept handing you water all day ner ka'rta?"

"W-wha-?" Your sniffles pull at his heart but he knows that you’re not in any physical danger and that all you need to do is whisper your safeword and he’d let you go. When a tear drop trails down your chin and hits his forehead, Din has to pull away to take a better look at you. He hates how much he loves the way you’re looking at him right now, like he’s simultaneously a villain and a savior to your predicament.

"And who do you think locked the refresher? Sweet girl… I thought you were smarter than that." Your surprised gasp adds more to the innocence he’s seeing in you and it’s the last straw before he holds onto your waist and begins to move you across his thigh again.

"You what?"

“Go on pretty, I know how much you’re trying to hold it in. ‘m not letting you go any time soon,” Din talks down at you and if you weren’t trying to prevent yourself from embarrassing yourself in front of him, you’d think it was the sexiest tone he’s had with you yet. But it’s getting more difficult to control your bladder and even though you get the sense that he will probably win in the end, you still try to hold off as much as possible.

“Look at you trying so hard...prettiest fucking sight in the galaxy. And do you know what makes it even better? I can smell how much you want me...this tight, wet cunt is begging for my cock. You can have me sweetheart, you can have me right now if you want. But you know what you have to do.” You’re shaking in his arms and plead pathetically when he applies more pressure on your navel. You try to ask him why again but you can’t find the words and resume moaning his name as he uses you.

And that’s what he’s doing. He’s using you. Like he owns you. Like he has the right to control every muscle in your body. You’re not sure what it is that made him act like this all of a sudden and you know it ultimately doesn’t matter because like he said, he won’t be stopping any time soon. It’s just strange that he wants this. He wants you to embarrass yourself. He’s practically helping your body let loose so you could wet yourself. You try to convince yourself that nothing about this should be turning you on, but the way his eyes are hazed with lust and desperation makes you reevaluate your thoughts and you manage to look up at him as he begins to speak again.

“It’s okay mesh’la, you can let go. Let go, now! Make a mess sweetheart. Make a mess of me, I won’t fuck you till you ruin my beskar and make this ship dirty. Go on. Or do you want me to help you again?” Din isn’t sure what’s come over him but he doesn’t hold back anymore, slipping his hand underneath your pants and pushing hard on your bladder until he feels your thighs squeeze around him.

“D-din fuck...oh- my...maker I- I can’t-” You throw your head back as you fist your hands into his cowl, holding on to that last bit of self control before you’re no longer able to. As he lifts his hand and pushes again, the thread breaks and tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you frown up at Din when your bladder gives out. Din looks into your eyes one last time before his attention moves south and his jaw clenches tightly when he notices the material of your pants grow darker the more you relieve yourself.

He doesn’t bother to stop, continuing to apply pressure on your lower stomach as a day’s worth of water floods down your legs and onto his beskar. He watches with fascination as his pants grow wet as well before he hears the faint sound of droplets falling onto his ship. You follow his line of sight and whimper in embarrassment when you notice just how big of a mess you made. There’s a small puddle forming where the two of you are standing and your nervousness only grows when you see how wet Din’s pants are.

When there’s nothing left and your shaking subsides a little, Din removes his hand from you and returns it to your waist, squeezing the skin he has access to so he wouldn’t strip you and fuck you in the middle of your mess. Every time he moves his foot, he can hear the soft splashing sound of the puddle underneath him and it only makes him harder. When he finally looks at you, he’s met with the most vulnerable expression he’s ever seen on you and although he wants nothing more than to kiss you and apologize, he allows himself to go just a little further until he sees you’re no longer able to put up with him.

“D-din...you- you made me, I-”

“Oh sweet girl, I made you do nothing.” The look of shock on your face is worth the hassle and he watches as you pout your lower lip before more tears leave your gorgeous eyes.

“You’re just a filthy girl, wetting yourself in the middle of my ship and not caring how dirty you’ve become...you really couldn’t hold it in cyar’ika? Look at this, look at the mess you made of my armor. You know how valuable beskar is and yet you pissed all over it. And my ship!? Didn’t we just clean this ship pretty?” Din could feel you melting into him with every word that passes through his lips and when you look away from him, his smile falls and he quickly grabs your neck, turning it straightforward so he could look into your eyes.

“No, you don’t get to look away from me when you’ve just pissed all over yourself and me. Maybe I should change your name, call you ad’ika from now on.” He has to hold back from smiling when he sees the moment you recognize the word. He’s only ever used that word whenever he talked with Grogu and you knew exactly why he was bringing it up now. “You’re my little girl aren’t you? My filthy, pretty little ad’ika who can’t fucking control herself and marked me up like she has the right...like she owns me.” Din watches as your expression softens a bit at his last admission and he trails his gaze down your nose until he is only focusing on your lips.

You can’t help but also stare at his lips and Din uses the brief moment of distraction to unbutton your pants and slip his hand into your panties, humming in approval when he feels the wet fabric scratch deliciously at his knuckles. You gasp when you feel his fingers softly rubbing your slit and as you look into his dark brown eyes, Din slips two fingers into your wet cunt and stops.

“Fuck, you’re so wet ad’ika, so warm and wet and ready for me.” He nudges his fingers deeper into he finds the spot that makes you see stars. You know immediately what he wants to do and reach for his arms as he grows closer to you. When they begin to get in the way, Din takes hold of the cuffs and raises them high above your head until the cuffs are glued to the wall. He can’t stop from smiling down at you, all stretched out and ready to be thoroughly fucked. But he doesn’t give in just yet.

“Din it’s...you’ll get dirty. I- I don’t want you to-”

“I don’t fucking care,” he growls as he leans down and bites shoulder again, moaning against your skin when he feels your cunt clench around him. “That’s it, open up for me...let me make you feel good. I- I want you to scream my name sweetheart, scream my name as you make a mess of me. Please...I need it, need- maker...need you to drench me again.” His words twist something inside of you and you lean back as he moves his thick fingers in and out of you until you feel that familiar pressure all over again.

“Oh Din...your fingers f-feel so- so good.”

“That’s right ad’ika, only I get to touch you. Only I get to watch you come undone...only I get to wear your scent, your beautiful fucking wet scent. I- I won’t wash this armor sweet girl, not when you’ve marked it...marked me, this much. Go on, be a good girl and make a mess of me. Let me walk around with the smell of you etched on my fucking beskar.” You whimper at the filthy whispers Din breathes against you and just as you’re about to come, Din grabs your pants along with your damp panties and pushes them as far down as he could. You bite into your lower lip as he tries to push his digits deeper into you, and when you finally manage to turn and look at him, you hold your breath as you see the way he’s looking at you, into you.

“Cum for me. Now.”

The quiet order, along with the pace of his touches, breaks you and you force yourself to not shut your eyes as your pussy throbs around his fingers, a wave of euphoria washing over you so swiftly you think you’ll faint. Din momentarily turns his attention to your heat once again and he hisses when he feels you coming on his hand just as you squirt on his beskar and the floor of the ship. You’re unable to form a coherent sentence as Din refuses to slow down and your eyes water again when the hold he has on your waist becomes more painful than before.

“Maker...you’re perfect.” Din kisses your neck as he finally decides to slow down but the way he continues to rub your clit with his palm does little to calm your nerves and you don’t realize how much you’re shaking until everything quiets down and all that you can hear is the sound of Din’s heavy breathing and your own heaving and sniffling. You wince when he fully removes his hand from you and helps you out of your pants and shoes. He takes a step back and groans when he sees how spent and ruined you look as you stand on your tiptoes and try to calm down.

As you try to catch your breath, Din unlocks both cuffs and throws them aside, reaching down and grabbing your ass so he could support your weight against him. You jump on instinct and moan when you feel the cold beskar against your skin as Din grinds into your soaked heat. He doesn’t waste another moment, diving in and claiming your lips until he could feel your teeth nipping at his tongue. He makes sure he has a good grip on you before he moves to the refresher and as soon as the two of you are standing in front of it, he pushes a code into the pad and unlocks the door. You pull away for a moment to look into his eyes, the silence of your gaze knocking the breath out of him as you hide into his neck. It takes but a second for Din to realize that he shouldn’t try to push your limits any further for the night.

His touches grow softer as he carefully sets you down on the floor of the refresher. Din can see you’re shivering from the cold room and makes quick work of his clothes and armor, choosing to leave his boxer briefs on so you wouldn’t think of anything else. He leans down and taps twice on your shoulders so you could raise them above your head. As you do, you look everywhere else but him and the gesture is a little too raw for Din because as he strips you down to nothing, he’s leaning down and kissing your forehead until he feels you relax in his arms.

When he’s satisfied with your slowing heart rate, he stands up and turns on the water, making sure to stand in front of you and block you from the cold water until it turns warm. Even though he doesn’t particularly enjoy it, he turns the hot water just a little further, knowing how much you preferred it when it struck your skin.

Grabbing the bar of soap you bought from the last hunt, Din sits down and rests his back against the cold metal of the wall before pulling you towards him.

“Come to me mesh’la.” His voice is much more controlled and mellow than minutes before and you melt back into him as soon as his skin comes into contact with yours. You rest your back against his shoulder and sigh heavily when his hands begin to massage your arms. The scent of flowers hits your nostrils in seconds, making you relax even more as the soap washes away any trace of what you and Din had just done.

Din kisses your shoulder and neck as he rubs the soap on your chest and stomach, keeping his touches as appropriate as possible to distract himself from the hardening issue he was struggling with. Although he prefers you all sweaty and dirty, he makes sure to wash every inch of you, knowing that you probably needed to feel clean after...after what he’s done.

He pushes your back until you’re leaning forward far enough for him to wash your back as well. His breath hitches when he sees evidence of his touches on your skin from previous nights. Some of them have turned a light blue color while others were still purple.

Fuck. He didn’t know his grip was this harsh. He was a little guilty for bruising your skin, your lovely, beautiful, gorgeous skin. But the more he saw as he rubbed the soap over your back, the more pride he felt in his chest at the knowledge that he was the only one allowed to mark you.

“D-din…” You moan his name when he pulls you back into his chest and you feel his hands descend lower to wash your thighs. You think that he’s going to touch you where you ache for him but when he focuses on your thighs, you realize that he wasn’t going to go anywhere near your throbbing cunt.

“I’m here sweet girl, let me take care of you.” His whispers are laced with promises and affection and you’re not sure what to make of it. He’s never been this intense, this touch-starved, even this controlling. There’s something about the events of the night that tug at your heart and you wish you could ask him what has changed all of a sudden. But you don’t, instead repeating his words from earlier over and over again as he continues to wash you.

He told you, although indirectly, that you had the right to...to mark him, to own him. He begged you to drench him so everyone would know that he’s yours. That you’re his.

“Din please,” overcome with emotions, you slap the bar of soap away from him and use his surprise to your advantage, quickly turning around and holding onto his broad shoulders as you straddled his thighs.

“Ner ka'rta, we don’t have t-” Din keeps his hands to himself as he feels you rub yourself on his clothed cock. You instantly cut him off, molding your lips with his in a bruising kiss until his arms wrapped around your back. When you knew you had him, you pulled away and laid kisses across his handsome features. He was a moaning mess in no time and when you took hold of his chin and pushed it back, Din felt like he was travelling through the stars, the rough nips you were leaving across the jugular of his neck making him notice just how needy you were.

The hot water cascaded down your back as you assaulted Din’s skin and when you felt him grab your waist and begin to move you across of him, you knew he wasn’t going to deny you from what you wanted. Needed. Craved.

“I need you...now, please Din. I need to feel you inside me.”

“But-”

“Please? Oh maker, I- you said...you said you’d give me your cock if I wanted. And I do. I want you, I want your cock. I- you promised. I- I’ll do anything.” The sound of your desperate pleas sends a shiver down his spine and Din nods frantically just before you pull him out of his briefs.

“You- you’ve done enough for me cyar’ika. So so much. And I- I...oh-” Din throws his head back and shuts his eyes as soon as you lower yourself on his hard cock. He thinks he’s going to cum right then and there, but then you’re moving on top of him and squeezing him so tightly and he realizes that he needed to feel more of you. You cry out his name over and over again as he twitches against your tight walls, and when his eyes snap wide open and look at you, you can’t help but lean forward and bite into his shoulder to keep some semblance of control.

“S-sweet girl...lovely girl, tell me you’re mine.”

The short request causes you to falter in your pace but Din decides to take over again, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to move you on top of him.

“I- I’m yours Din, I’m yours. No one else can fuck me like you, n-no one can kiss me and touch me and take care of me like you...gods, you’re amazing. And you’re mine,” Din groans when he hears the last of your words and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you continue to whisper sweet things to him.

“You hear that Din...you’re mine. You- you belong to me, you touch only me...you, oh maker, you fuck only me. This cunt is yours baby and your cock was made for it. Made for me. You l-love only me. Right Din? P-please I’m...already so close. Tell me Din because you know...know that I love you. I love you. No one else. J-just you-”

Din is sure he might be suffocating you with how hard he’s hugging you right now but he doesn’t seem to notice because all he can hear is your declarations of love and commitment. Neither of you have ever come close to being this intimate but his earlier actions apparently unlocked something in the two of you.

You loved him. Even though he could be kinder, and was definitely too broken. You still loved him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. P-pfassk...I love you mesh’la. Only you...always you.” Din comes with a cry when he feels your nails digging into his back and he growls as his cock throbs inside you until he’s filled you with his cum. But he doesn’t stop, instead maintaining his pace just to see you fall apart one last time. It’s all too much and not enough, and he’s already oversensitive from coming but he has only himself to blame considering how much he edged himself the entire day. When he hears your gasps turn quieter, he knows you’re close and slithers his hand between your bodies to flick your clit. You moan into his shoulder as you quickly peak one last time, the touch of his fingers reminding you of what he’s done earlier and in a matter of seconds, you’re clenching around him so hard to the point where you’re not sure if you’re experiencing pain or pleasure.

Neither of you say anything as you slowly return to yourselves. When Din moves to try and turn the water off, you accidentally dig your nails deeper into his shoulder and make him hiss.

“S-sorry.” The small apology does something to Din and he decides that he needs to do this now and not when the two of you are in his cot. Twisting his hand into your hair, Din pulls it back until you’re forced to look at him. You stare at each other for what feels like hours before you lean forward and kiss him. It’s much slower and kinder than the earlier kisses and you smile when Din unintentionally thrusts into you. He pulls away and returns your expression when he sees how genuine it is.

“I think I should be the one apologizing ad’ika.”

You know what he’s referring to and you think that perhaps he’s beginning to feel more guilt at what he’s done but you brush it aside with a joke so he knew there was nothing of concern.

“Not sure what you’re talking about Din,” you leave a quick peck on his nose as you rest your cheek on his chest and hug him tightly. He recognizes what you’re doing right away and decides to not fight you, instead maneuvering you off of him to shut the water off. You try to stand but your legs give out immediately. Forutrantly for you, Din is there to catch you and he ignores your complaints as he carries you out of the refresher and into his room. You watch as he brings two towels and proceeds to dry you off, handing you the other one to dry your hair. You giggle when he almost stubs his toe as he comes back with a set of new clothes.

Din ignores your comments when you ask him why he was handing you one of his long sleeve shirts instead of your own, quickly putting on a pair of boxers before throwing the towels back into the refresher. When he comes back, you’re already comfortable and warm in his bed, the sight of you sniffing his pillows causing him to think of a multitude of thoughts. He brushes them all aside when you make room for him and ask him to come to you.

As he slithers underneath the covers, you waste no time and move closer to him until you’re sure you’re touching every inch of his skin.

“Are you okay mesh’la?” Although you know what he’s referring to by that question, you don’t bring up the topic, instead nuzzling into his chest. The sigh of content you hear tells you that he’s not overthinking what happened too much, and it signals for you to do the same because even though you never expected the day’s events, you can’t help but admit to yourself that one thing which you know Din will bring up when the two of you have properly rested.

As strange and sudden as it was, Din’s treatment of you turned you on.

Translations:

Mesh'la - beautiful

Cyar'ika - beloved

Ad'ika - little one

Ner ka'rta - my heart or my soul

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you

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Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @marsplsstop @ezrasbirdie @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul @bii-aan-ckaa @nohartandsole @djjarins @lamelyssher @giselatropicana @pescopadral @blackmarketmummy @laviipopii @ew-erin @fan-of-encouragement @melody13522 @clydesducktape @planetariumx @sambucky21 @thirddeadlysin @leannawithacapitala @fangirl-316 @thou-creature-of-the-deep

Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson @mrs-ghuleh @caitlynmarty

[condorclaw]

TW: derealization

“-ommy? You with us?”

Tommy opened his eye, blinking to see as the harsh sunlight glared down from above. It was snowing, despite the blazing star, and Tommy let out a sigh at the feeling of snowflakes landing on his heated skin, cooling down his body. The wind was chilly, and though it sent a shiver through his form, it was a familiar feeling. One that seemed to say, “don’t worry, you’re here now”, and Tommy could feel it surge through his body from where he sat in the white flakes. Though the sunlight was irritating on his eye, Tommy could see enough to spy two figures standing a couple of feet away from him, picking out details.

One was shorter, with many pairs of twisted thorn-like horns emerging from the figure’s head. He was wrapped in a bulky coat laced with wool, which gave off the appearance of him being a muscular ram. A singular eye was gazing over Tommy’s own body, concern visible in the way it squinted, which Tommy could only guess the other eye was doing as well, if it weren’t hidden underneath a mop of brown hair.

The other was much taller than Tommy, with a lanky frame and disproportionately large hands matching as well as oil and water did. Though he had horns like the other, there weren’t as many, with the most noticeable one being a single horn protruding from his forehead like some kind of mutant unicorn. His eyes were laced with concern as well, both red and green irises focused closely on Tommy, while occasionally darting back to glance at the other figure.

While Tommy was focused on trying to make out who approached him, the shorter figure leaned down slowly, only a foot away from Tommy, before quickly snapping his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. The sudden contrast of speed made Tommy yelp, but that appeared to be the goal the figures were going for.

Now snapped out of a daze, Tommy rubbed at his eye, letting out a hiss when he tried to open it as wide as he could, the sunlight still strong. The taller figure moved over to block the intruding light, his feet crunching into the snow on the ground as he shifted, though Tommy wasn’t able to see it happening clearly. Though the crunch of the snow was comforting, it stirred up a few past memories relating to the fear of hearing somebody stomping through the snow, searching for him.

It was all in the past though, and in just a few seconds, Tommy’s vision came into focus, a smile spreading across his face when he realized who exactly was with him.

“Tommy? You okay?” Tubbo asked, his goat ears twitching slightly when he saw the blonde smile. “We didn’t even know you were out here. Hell, I don’t think I would’ve known if Ranboo hadn’t seen you from the window. His sneaky enderman eyes are like that. Always watching. Never blinking.”

“Tub-“ Tommy’s grin grew as he tried not to laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, cutting off his words.

“If you think that’s weird already, try sleeping in the same room as him. He has no eyelids, Tommy.” Tubbo whispered, pretending Ranboo wasn’t a few feet away, rolling his dual-colored gaze in amusement. Tommy snorted when Tubbo emphasized Ranboo’s biology, trying to playfully bat the older boy away from him. “Stop that, stop that-“

“There’ve been so many nights when I went to get a drink. I turn the corner. Boom! I see him watching me with that lizard gaze and I have to resist the urge to wack him with a shoe.”

“You did that once, actually.” Ranboo pointed out, his eyes narrowed in amusement. “And I can tell when you get scared in the night, because the next morning you’ll unplug the toaster without me knowing.”

“It’s called vengeance for my decreasing sanity.”

Now failing to hold his enthusiasm in, Tommy began to cackle in the same loud, genuine way he always did. Despite him finding quite a large number of stupid jokes funny, Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he was able to just express all his positive emotion outwards in a healthy manner. Normally it was accompanied by somebody letting out a scream of surprise, but Tommy could get used to laughing without the sounds of poor souls getting stuck in deep holes accompanying it.

He was always told his laughter was contagious, and that appeared to be true, because as soon as he began to laugh, Tubbo and Ranboo joined in, Tubbo letting out little cries of “sorry!” as Ranboo pretended to kick him in the side. The sound of laughter was soon joined by distant oinks coming from the top floor of Tubbo’s house, Tommy seeing a curious eye watching the three mess around. With a soft smile, he waved to Michael, letting out a piglin snort. The piglin wagging his hoof as fast as he could in response, the oinks becoming more rapid.

“Aw, dang. I’ll get him.” Ranboo’s fake assault on Tubbo was halted, the enderman hybrid beginning to walk towards the little cottage at a moderate pace. Before Ranboo was too far away, however, Tubbo lunged forward and grabbed his husband’s leg, causing Ranboo to jolt, surprised. The taller gazed down at the smaller, and Tommy knew if Ranboo had eyelids, he’d be blinking them rapidly in confusion.

“Carry me, bossman,” Tubbo gave a cheeky grin, gripping to Ranboo’s thigh tighter.

There was silence as the two husbands stared at each other in silence, a silent battle being waged between the duo without words needing to be exchanged. If Tommy listened closely, he could hear the cogs in their heads turning as they tried to quietly protest with each other. Though he couldn’t hear their internal dialogue, Tommy knew Tubbo well enough to know what they were “saying”.

“Carry me.”

“I need to get Michael.”

“Carry me.”

“This is very counterproductive to the task at hand.”

“Carry me.”

“Tommy’s right there. He’s strong enough to carry you.”

“…”

“…”

“Carry me.”

If Tommy didn’t know Ranboo well enough, he’d think that Ranboo would try and throw Tubbo into the nearest snowdrift.

Tommy did know Ranboo well enough however, to know that Ranboo was absolutely considering that idea.

Thankfully the most intense battle of marriage mind chess was halted immediately once Michael cried out in impatience, Ranboo rushing off as soon as he heard his son’s displeasure. Yeah, Tubbo was still attached to Ranboo’s leg, being too startled by Michael’s sudden outburst to remember that he should probably let go before he got dragged across the hardwood floor. Based on the hoof scrapes and the stab marks littering the cottage’s wooden surface, the two had probably engaged in a telepathic battle of wills before, resulting in the same conclusion.

Letting out an amused snort, Tommy hoisted himself off the ground, brushing the snow off of his shorts. While others would be concerned over if he caught a cold, Tommy didn’t mind it if it meant he could relax in the mounds of white. Future Tommy, who was likely sick, would have something to say to current Tommy about it, but that was future Tommy’s problem. He’d cross that bridge when he got there. Feeling his feet on the ground, Tommy allowed his senses to be filled with the sensation of a feeling he longed for. Something at the back of his mind called it “home”, but he wouldn’t pay attention to that right now. It was the Beloved-Underscore’s home, and he couldn’t intrude on that name.

The weight of the coat slinged over Tommy’s shoulders was comfortable, the weight being light enough to ground him, but not heavy enough to make him feel restricted. Tubbo had made it for him, modelling it after the coats of Snowchester, even if Tommy didn’t live there. Instead of soft, white wool like Tubbo’s coat had, though, the wool was a gentle blue, being sewn together with the wool of Ghostbur’s treasured sheep. Ranboo was the one who had suggested it to Tubbo while the coat was being constructed, and Tommy didn’t mind the wool being used. It was a good way to remember Friend, and Tommy hoped that wherever he was, he was with Ghostbur now.

“Tommy.”

Huh, that was odd. It was almost like Tommy could hear h-

“Tommy. Tommy.”

Okay, that couldn’t be his imagination. It sounded too real for Tommy’s mind to conjure it up. Was it one of the nagging voices at the back of his mind? Or the moths? The moths had scattered for the day, maybe there were a few stragglers? He could let them hang around him, although he wasn’t doing mu-

“TOMMY!”

A loud bang started Tommy, causing him to rocket upwards where he sat. Sat? When did he sit back down? He couldn’t feel the snow on his skin anymore, did it stop? Taking a deep breath, Tommy’s eye focused on where he was. Did Tubbo and Ranboo bring him inside?

Oh.

The sound of a snowstorm outside echoed in Tommy’s thoughts as he remembered where he was: the Las Nevadas tower.

Across from Tommy, sat Wilbur, his piercing gray eyes narrowed in Tommy’s direction. The wings on his back were folded against his body, yet Tommy could see the ruffled feathers of irritation. It wasn’t only Wilbur though, as next to him, sat Quackity, who was watching Tommy closely. He didn’t look as mad as Wilbur, but there was a feeling of annoyance that lingered around him. Quackity’s feathers were ruffled as well, though Tommy now guessed their wings’ states had less to do with him, and more to do with each other. With two sets of eyes on him now, Tommy gulped, head bowing a little in shame.

“Ah, this is awkward, huh?”

Wilbur sighed, his clawed hand moving from the table to push up his glasses, rubbing at his eyes in an exhausted manner. “Tommy, did you hear a word of what we just said?”

While Tommy could be honest about this, since the worst thing he could get from not paying attention was being called a “child”, he was fairly sure he knew what the two men had been saying to each other.

“Yeah.”

“We’re trying to work out what’s best for you, you know that, right?” Quackity’s own claws drummed against the table surface, his eyes focused on Wilbur, despite Tommy being the one addressed.

How many times had Tommy heard that already? He knew it wasn’t a lie though. Wilbur and Quackity both cared, though they had weird ways of showing it. Tommy just really couldn’t understand why they couldn’t all stay together in Quackity’s awesome country. Yeah, Wilbur’s unpredictable, and he did lie about the TNT stuff, but he seemed excited about starting a new life in Las Nevadas? He knows Wilbur’s trying to build a new structure right next to Las Nevadas, but it doesn’t feel like a home, a headquarters, or whatever he wants to call it. It feels like it’s being built out of spite.

“Is he going to hurt you?”

Wilbur’s message rings loud in Tommy’s ears, causing him to shift in his seat uncomfortably. Even if the headquarters or whatever was built out of spite, Wilbur made it for safety reasons, right? He wanted to keep Tommy safe, and Tommy knows that sometimes safety can be uncomfortable.

“Tommy? You okay?” Daydream Tubbo’s words of concern cut in through Wilbur’s own, and for a moment, Tommy thinks he can feel Ranboo’s hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.

Would he be safe in Snowchester? With his family?

Wilbur’s your family too, a voice slips out from the back of his mind, nestling into the forefronts of Tommy’s thoughts. They weren’t wrong though. Wilbur was family. Not just Wilbur though, but Quackity too. The two of them were trying their bests right now to make sure Tommy was safe and happy, but he wasn’t even paying attention!

Tommy didn’t even realize he was starting to tear up until Quackity placed a hand on Tommy’s own. Wilbur was watching as well, his eyes no longer narrowed, being replaced with concern for the blonde. Wilbur and Quackity glanced at each other, the two seeming to come to an understanding, despite not speaking.

Kind of like how Tubbo and Ranboo were, huh?

Wordlessly, the men got up from their chairs, Quackity helping Tommy stand up, despite the teen’s shaky legs. It was a long process to get Tommy over to the waterway in the center of the tower, Wilbur holding onto him tightly, yet protective, as they descended through the cold, blue tunnel leading to the entrance of the pillar, but Tommy managed to make it to the ground safely, and by then, he had mostly recovered from his latest internal turmoil.

Wilbur and Quackity both breathed sighs of relief, their attention shifting away from Tommy to each other. Even while tommy’s senses were still dulled, he could hear them speaking, though it was more like softly arguing. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to hear them or not.

“I’m taking him back now. You’re not to go anywhere near him unless I’m there.”

“Oh, and I don’t get to say that you’re not allowed to be near him if I’m not there?”

“Of course not. I’m the one who’ll protect him.”

“Well guess what, you’re also the one who admires the man who killed him. I’m sure he feels so comfortable after hearing you say those things.”

“Oh really? Sounds like you’re the one who tried to kill his “best friend” while he was exiled. I’m certain he feels even more at ease with you!”

“You weren’t there!”

“I was there in spirit! Quite literally, in fact!”

They weren’t going to stop unless Tommy tried to insert himself between them. Even then, though, sometimes that caused them to get even more enraged with each other, with some of that anger being aimed towards Tommy himself. Right now, however, Tommy was tired. He’d have to wait it out.

The sounds of fury from behind him began to fade away as Tommy gazed upwards at the sky, feeling his tension ebb away. A snowflake landed on the tip of his nose, melting almost instantly due to Tommy’s body heat. Snow caused a familiar feeling. One that seemed to say, “don’t worry, you’re here now”.

But where was here?

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 8:

“Are you scared of me?”

He lets out a nervous little laugh. “Are you decent?”

Previous

Note: There’s a bit of mature 🔞 content in this chapter. This fic is rated E on AO3 for a reason, so please keep that in mind. Thank you!

Read chapter 8 on AO3, or read below:

Heat steals over me slowly, like fog rolling in from the ocean overnight. I have a hard time falling asleep because it hovers at the edge of my senses; a tension headache pressing at the front of my skull, the flipping of my stomach, all compounded by the aching of my injured leg. I toss and turn a little, but not much, because with Cardan next to me there isn’t much room, and I don’t really want to kick him and alert his attention.

His sleep is also restless. I’ll hear his breathing even out, and then he’ll jerk awake, suddenly, with a little startled sound, his elbow brushing my arm, the mattress shifting under him. I didn’t think someone like him would be prone to nightmares, but I guess our situation would test anyone’s psyche. A couple of days ago I would have asked, resentfully, what Cardan would even have nightmares about, but I am learning that his life is not nearly as charmed as it seems.

We must manage to sleep sometime in the early morning hours, and it is then that my heat breaks. I know it’s begun when I wake up. The room is pregnant with it, in the same way the air grows heavy and humid just before a lightning strike. I am aware of every part of my body in a way I usually try not to be: the muscles of my thighs tensing; the prickly three-day hair growth under my armpits; sweat collecting between my breasts; an urgent cramping in my lower belly that I know—with dismay—is ovarian, not uterine; a desperate, disastrous need layered in with it all.

And I am aware of Cardan.

He is fast asleep. I know that for certain, even without listening to the rhythm of his breathing, because he would never be doing this if he weren’t. He’s wrapped himself around me like a boa constrictor, an arm clamped over my waist, a leg slung over my thigh. His hand rests on the sliver of exposed skin where my tank top has hiked up, and his palm seems to burn cold. His lips press against the crown of my head in the mockery of a kiss, his sleep-breath ruffling my hair.

Part of him, however, is very much awake, unmistakably pressed up against my ass, and although I have never handled one of those on purpose I am not so ignorant or inexperienced as to not know what’s going on.

For a moment I feel as though I have left my body entirely, suspended in a weightless space between desire and panic. After that, his hand slides a little further up under the fabric of my shirt and there is nothing I want more than for him to touch me, to cup my breast, to let his fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts. And I think, Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

And I think, What if we get it over with?

But there is no “getting it over with,” because if we start we won’t stop, not for days, not until my heat runs its course and his rut burns away. And, with a flash of shame, with a clench in my stomach, I remember Valerian trying to pin my arms and his sour breath against my cheek as he asked me the same question. Why not get it over with? “Omegas are good for one thing,” he said. “You don’t seem to have figured that out yet.” My heartbeat rabbiting in my chest as for one terrible second I wondered if he was right.

“Cardan,” I whisper. Yesterday I had kicked him awake, but I am too frozen now even for that.

Cardan groans sleepily into my hair. His grip around my waist tightens and his hips press harder against mine and my mind completely whites out at the deep throb of dreadful want that responds. I take a deep breath, count to three, and force myself to reach back and pinch him.

I feel the moment he wakes, because every part of him stiffens. Well, every part that wasn’t already stiff.

“Shit,” he breathes, and he scrambles off of me and across the room so quickly that I am forced to wonder whether he was even there, even as I feel his invisible handprint on my waist.

I roll onto my back. Cardan is now once again in what I’ve come to think of as “his corner.” Although I try not to look at his groin, my eyes seem drawn there, and his jeans are very tight, but out of embarrassment or shame or something else he has arranged his legs so that I can’t see and tugs his loose shirt down.

“So,” he says. “Uh. Morning.”

I don’t know what to say. My mouth feels like a desert. Images of—of all things—prairies at the height of the Dust Bowl that had been printed in one of my middle school history textbooks flash across my mind. Maybe I am delirious.

“It’s started,” I manage.

“Yeah, I got that.” Cardan gestures vaguely, at himself, at the room. He is in sharp focus for me in a way that nothing else is. A rivulet of sweat trickles down his neck. I want to lick it.

I am astonished that he can just sit there in his corner, although he seems more closed-off than usual. I can vaguely recall my first heat and the urge to act, even if I was too miserable to do much and I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Now I know exactly what it is that I want to do. And the pheromones rolling off of me should be sending him into a rut, and alpha ruts are supposed to be a basically unstoppable force. Before suppressants, terrible things would happen if an omega was caught out in an unexpected heat with alphas around. When we woke up I thought his had been triggered, based on the erection and now the sweat. But he’s in his corner, and he isn’t coming closer.

I must really repulse him if he can resist it like that. Normally, this would just irritate me. Now, I want to yell. I want to cry.

“I...” I begin, but then I am hit with another cramp and a chill settles under my skin. Evolutionarily speaking, the purpose of heat is to mate, and there’s logic to making my life unpleasant if I don’t do that, to ensure survival of the species. Everything goes slightly sideways and makes me a little cold-blooded; if an alpha were here to help me regulate my temperature, I would be fine. But my body has caught onto the fact that Cardan is across the room instead of pressed up against me and it says Hey, no, that’s what we want, as if it can decide those things unilaterally. And its main method of protest is to set everything on fire.

I can relate.

As the fever blooms, so does the sensitivity in my every nerve. I feel the underwire of my bra digging into my ribs, the stiffness of my denim shorts and the tickling of stray threads where they have been intentionally distressed. With an urgent gasp, I unzip my sweatshirt and pull it off before reaching up under the back of my tank.

“What are you doing?” Cardan asks, panicked.

I struggle with the clasp of my bra for another second before unhooking it and slipping my arms out of the straps. I pull it out from under my tank top and fling it across the room like it might bite me. “It fucking hurts,” I say between clenched teeth. I start on the button of my shorts.

Cardan covers his face with one large hand. “These are really mixed signals you’re giving off, um, right now. Are you getting naked? Please don’t be naked. I don’t know what’ll happen.”

There’s a waver in his voice that keeps him from sounding aloof and sarcastic. I sit up to slide my shorts down my legs and toss them beside my bra, then put my sweatshirt back on and pull the blanket back up. It’s scratchy, but I have to get warm. “Not naked.” I pause. “Are you scared of me?”

He lets out a nervous little laugh. “Are you decent?”

“Yeah.”

But I am watching his fingers closely as he lowers them from his face. My tongue wets my dry lips, and I wish they were his. Then there’s another cramp, and I feel—oh no. I feel the worst thing of all, because it feels like I’ve wet myself, when really it’s an entirely different category of bodily fluid. My underwear is soaked.

I’m glad I took off my shorts, I think deliriously. It would be such a pain to get this out of denim.

In this terrible moment, I am unable to believe that I have ever hated Cardan. Just looking at him is an experience as visceral as being punched in the gut. I look at his mouth and my lips tingle with the thrill of imagining how a kiss would feel. I look at his long fingers and press my thighs together to stop phantom versions of them from slipping inside of me. I am incoherent with want, absolutely stupid with it, and the last remaining shred of my sanity is the only thing keeping me from crawling over to him and stripping off his shirt.

That and the absolute mortification, because it feels like my entire body clenches again and another rush of fluid follows. I let out an involuntary whimper; my face burns hot with shame. At least he can’t see what’s going on down there with my legs under the blanket. I don’t know what he can smell.

“I’m gonna—” Cardan begins, his eyes darting around the room for some kind of solution to our problem. “I’m— I can’t stay in here.”

I make myself nod. Of course he can’t. As much as I am slowly being consumed by base instincts, I am still here, and the part of me that is me understands that. He can’t stay in here, because something will happen, and he doesn’t want—neither of us want—anything to happen. Of course.

“But we can’t let them in here,” he says, under his breath. “I can’t let them get you. So. Okay.” He nods. “Right. Okay. I’m gonna come over there for like two seconds. Don’t move or do anything or— okay?”

“Okay,” I say. I don’t even think about what it means that I’m going along with what he says. I’m just glad one of us has a plan.

Cardan draws a breath, steeling himself, and crawls over to me. It isn’t very far. I make myself look up at the ceiling so I can’t check whether he’s still hard and pretend to ignore him, even though I can’t not be hyper aware of his presence. He pauses at the side of the mattress and takes another breath.

“Right,” he says. “Sit up for a second.”

I do. To my surprise, he adjusts my pillow, then reaches beyond it to get the one he’d slept on. He moves to put it under my head, then says, “Oh, shit, wait, your leg,” and changes his mind, moving down the mattress to prop my left foot up on it. Then he asks me to lie back down and begins tucking both blankets around me, fitting them tightly to my body.

“We have to like, smother it, right?” he says. There’s a manic quality to his voice, like he’s on the verge of babbling. “We can’t let them smell you. So if we trap the smell in the blankets, maybe…”

“That’s smart,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Although I’m afraid it’s also useless at this point. The stale air in here is already saturated with both of our scents. Cardan’s is muskier than usual today, cocoa and earth and… I break out in a fresh round of sweat, but my body also calms down a little at having him nearer, at the possibility that something might happen.

He pauses when he tucks the blankets around my shoulders, his eyes, dark as black coffee, finding mine. If I look closely enough, I can tell where his irises end and his pupils begin. They’re blown wide, although that could just be because it’s so dark in here. Still, I am captivated by the arc of his eyelashes when his eyes flick toward my lips.

“Jude,” he says quietly. The sweat is making his hair curl even more than usual. I want to mess it up so badly. I want to be kissed. I have never wanted anything more. Valedictorian, college acceptances, acknowledgment of my accomplishments, all of those wants vanish in the face of Cardan and his perfect Cupid’s bow, his full lower lips.

For one long, tense minute, we are not moving, breathing the same air. Then there is a quiet knock at the door, an almost fluttery beat, like that of a hummingbird’s wings. It’s the Bomb’s knock.

Cardan jerks back from me like he’s been hit with a sudden electric shock. “Okay,” he says, reassuring himself. “You’re as far away from the door as you can be. It’ll have to be enough. I just— won’t let them in. Yeah.”

He stands, looking down at me one more time, and then turns away. I see him subtly adjust himself before moving to stand in front of the door, blocking the entrance.

“Jude’s sick,” he calls.

The door swings open immediately.

Cardan doesn’t move. I peer at the doorway. Behind the Bomb’s slight form, I can make out the Roach, halfway to standing from his chair at the table.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asks.

“Fever,” Cardan lies.

“I should get the Ghost,” the Bomb says. I guess it’s a credit to how scared they are of Madoc that she sounds properly worried. “If her wound’s infected—”

“Then he fucked up. That’s exactly why you shouldn’t get him.” Cardan sounds properly commanding and haughty, an alpha born. You would never know he is actually nervous. I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or afraid that he’s such a good liar.

Because, of course, the reason not to get the Ghost is that he’s a likelier alpha than the Bomb. Because Cardan has made the same calculation I have: that the Bomb, a petite woman, is probably not a threat to me.

The Bomb frowns. “Did you check her leg?”

“Well, no…”

“Might as well, before we bother him,” says the Roach. “You know how he likes it up there in his perch.”

I send up a silent thank you to whoever might be listening. Cardan moves aside to let the Bomb enter, turning to watch her approach. When the Roach comes to the doorway, Cardan subtly shifts his weight to block half the entrance with his shoulder. If the Roach notices, he doesn’t remark on it.

“Jude,” says the Bomb, crouching down at my side in the space that Cardan had just occupied. “You okay?”

I blink and wrench my gaze over to her. I try to think of what I would normally say. After all, one time I went to school with a one hundred and two degree fever so as not to miss a history test. I only got sent home because I nearly fainted in gym. Our kidnappers wouldn’t know that, but they do know I downplayed being shot. That’s enough.

“I’m fine,” I grit out. “He’s exaggerating.”

Cardan rolls his eyes. The Bomb frowns. I am relieved that even this close, her scent does absolutely nothing for me, but maybe that’s because Cardan’s still lingers in the air. “Well, you don’t look fine.” She puts a hand to my forehead and the frown deepens. “Yeah, definitely warm. I’m going to take a look at your leg.”

I nod, although I don’t particularly want anyone crawling around anywhere near my lower body. Luckily, when she pulls the blankets aside, it’s only to my knee. “Hmm,” she says. “Nothing’s bleeding through. I don’t see anything weird.” She glances back at the door, and a look passes between her and the Roach that I don’t understand. “I’m going to unwrap it for a sec.”

“Fine,” I repeat.

Even though I do try to keep still while she does it, I can’t help but glance down. The wound looks okay. It’s scabbed over, and the skin is raw and pink at the borders, but it’s clearly healing normally. The Bomb rewraps my leg with steady hands, although not as well as the Ghost had.

“Well?” Cardan asks. Impatient, irritated. He wants everyone out of the room. “How is she?”

“Her leg’s okay,” the Bomb reports. Does anybody else realize the way they’re responding to him? Answering his questions, responding to physical cues? The chemical signals he’s sending out might not be driving anybody else here crazy, but they’re certainly having some effect, and nobody seems to know but me.

“Maybe a virus,” the Roach suggests. “Something you guys brought in with you.”

Cardan forces his face into a grimace. “I probably shouldn’t be locked in a tiny cell with her, then.”

“You might already have it, kid.”

“I feel fine.”

The Bomb and the Roach exchange another glance.

“C’mon,” Cardan presses. “I’ll be good. Plus, I kind of want to learn how to shuffle cards like you do. I’ve never seen anybody’s hands move that fast.”

I am forced to give Cardan a little credit here. I had noticed the Roach playing Solitaire, but I hadn’t really paid attention to anything else he did with the cards. And flattery is definitely a tool I haven’t mastered.

The Roach considers this, pressing his lips together. “All right,” he says at last. “You can sit across from me while the Bomb picks up some medicine for her. But so much as one sneeze and you’re back in the room.”

“Deal,” says Cardan, who glances at me. I try to force my face to remain neutral, even though, now that he’s on the verge of leaving, everything in me is screaming for him to stay. But it’s the right thing for him to go. He doesn’t want me, I don’t know what I want, and if he stays the decision will be made for us. I still ache at the idea of him leaving. Or maybe that’s just the fever.

So Cardan, and the Roach, and the Bomb all go, and I am alone. I don’t even hear anyone secure the deadbolt. I must look really wretched if they think I won’t try to escape again.

They’re right.

I turn back onto my side, wrapping the blankets tighter around me. I don’t know how much time I have before the Bomb returns, but it has to be more time than I need for this. I shove my right hand into my underwear, which is already soaked, as I know the blankets probably are and the mattress is. I should probably treat my own body with a little more care, but I can’t exactly light candles or run a warm bath, and it’s not like I ever go easy on myself.

At first I just try to look at the wall as I work, try to concentrate on the building of sensation between my thighs, but my mind keeps skipping like an old record, and every skip reminds me of the way Cardan’s dick felt against my ass. Which does arouse me more, but also makes me nervous. Alphas are supposed to be well-endowed, but I can’t imagine it fitting. I know there is a hole in me, but it’s metaphorical—the gaping maw that feeds on my accumulated trauma so I don’t have to deal with it—and while I also know biology facts like “the vaginal canal lengthens during arousal” it just doesn’t seem plausible. And anyway, none of this is sexy.

So I end up thinking about his fingers instead, even though I don’t want to think about any part of him at all. His long fingers, which are always moving, drumming on his knee, scratching at the wall, running through his hair. I think about how he said he knew his way around sex things and wonder if he could do a better job than I am doing right now. Would he be rough with me, like alphas are known to be? Or would he be gentle, with the same odd tenderness he’d shown when he tucked my hair behind my ear?

I don’t know why I break on that thought—I will never have that, he doesn’t want to give it to me, I will never know—but I do. Climax feels like shattering into a million tiny pieces. I muffle myself with the pillow, tasting dry cotton.

My face is wet, but not with sweat. I am crying. And because no one is here, I let myself cry, pretending that it’s just another symptom. That it can’t be helped. I let the tears come until they’re out of my system and my well of despair has run dry.

Then I settle in for a long and terrible day.

Next

[twdmusicboxmystery]

The S11 Trailer - Analysis

Okay, let’s talk about the trailer. I’ll go through what I’m seeing shot by shot, and then focus on a couple of things that really stood out to me.

We start with Negan and Father Gabriel, with Negan looking distressed. FG asks him what’s wrong, and he says, “bad memories.” FG says, “of what?” We don’t hear Negan’s answer in the trailer.

Then we see the windmill in Alexandria, followed by horses running by Kelly and (I think) Magna. I think the horses will end up being important, as we see them again later. And this is really interesting. Take a moment to remember Buttons from S5, and I’ll come back to this.

Next, we see what I originally thought were overgrown street signs. But when I lightened this picture, I realized they’re not outdoor street signs. They’re indoor ones. Almost like the kind of thing you’d see at a massive mall or market or airport, directing you where to go. East Market. The “East” is jumping out at me as well.

Then we see Negan with a flashlight and other things in the underground tunnels from the sneak peek.

We see Daryl staring out over what I first thought as a mural. But when I lightened it, he’s really just looking down at a scene below him. If you look closely, below him on the left is a tank. So, at the end of 10x22, Carol said they were going to visit an old military base Daryl had found. I’m assuming this is it.

We see Judith, and then Daryl with mud on his face. This may be important. Keep this in mind. It looks a little like he’s covered himself either in red mud or perhaps walker guts.

Then we see various scenes of people fighting walkers and one person (we don’t see who) being bitten by one.

Then we see Negan dragging Maggie backward while she yells, “no!” I’ve mentioned this recently, but this is really interesting to me. It’s a nearly identical replay of Maggie being held back at the end of AOW (8x16) because Rick declared that Negan would live. Except this time, it’s Negan holding Maggie back from something else. The dynamic has changed. So, it makes me very curious to find out what he’s dragging her back from. It’s almost like he's trying to protect her.

There’s more fighting with walkers, and scenes from the underground subway tunnels. Most of these scenes are fast and it’s nearly impossible to tell exactly who is doing what or what’s going on.

This is also where we hear Daryl say, “I don’t leave anybody behind. Ever.” Because of Beth, we’re definitely side-eyeing that. In a way, it just proves that something happened to make Daryl believe Beth was dead and couldn’t be buried. This is him affirming that he would never have left her behind otherwise.

Then we see Kelly and Magna talking, and Kelly looking at a note that seems to have been written by Connie. It says, “Trapped with the dead. Walked with them for days. No light. No food. Little water.” Yeah, I’m kind of side-eyeing that note. It’s strange that Connie would write it and leave it but be nowhere around when Kelly finds it. (However, based on stuff we see later in the trailer, she does seem to have been kidnapped or taken prisoner.)

But more than that, the note feels thematic. Being trapped with the dead feels like a Beth thing. Walking with the dead is something we’ve seen a lot on the show. Michonne and her pets. The Whisperers, of course. Plenty of examples. And then the “no light, no food, no water” goes well with the drought and famine themes we’ve seen a lot. One of the most notable examples being in 5x10. I’m just saying.

Then more fighting with walkers, and we get the scene where Aaron says, “so you’re going to fight ghosts?” Followed by a teary-eyed Carol saying, “This is a path you don’t want to go down.”

My fellow theorists and I have discussed these a lot and who both Aaron and Carol might be talking to. I think there’s a good possibility that both may be Daryl. I’ve talked before about the possibility of him hearing something of Rick or Rick’s voice and wanting to go find him, but no one else believing him or that Rick is a live. Possibly questioning Daryl’s sanity. Both would go well with that idea.

Of course, that may be a little too convenient. Some people have suggested Carol might be talking to Maggie and trying to keep her from revenge on Negan. Or these could be secondary characters we won’t even care about overly much. No way to know.

Next, we see a person in a mask, with Dog standing near them, apparently watching Daryl. This is one scene that got our fandom very hyped up. I do have some things to say about it, so I’ll come back to it at the end.

We see lots of people running through the woods, a sickle hitting a tree. (I think it’s safe to assume that the sickle is a weapon/symbol of the Reapers.) And then a line of people in masks walking forward aggressively. Again, I’m assuming these are the Reapers. We’ve been told the trailer is misleading, so it may prove untrue, but I think it’s what we’re supposed to assume here.

We see more fighting and houses being broken into. Ezekiel fighting in a house and Eugene with bloodstains on his shirt. Then someone bound and hooded being dragged backward down a dark hallway. I’m thinking that’s Eugene.

Then we get a quick flash of what looks like feminine eyes behind a hood. These are what people assume could be Beth or Leah. And yes, they could be either. We do later see Maggie taking a skin mask off, so I think they could be her as well. It’s so quick, it’s pretty much impossible to identify them for sure.

The next scene is a super-tragic one. I’m pretty sure Dog is dying, guys. We hear what sounds like Dog whining in pain, as dogs do, and see a knife flash. Then Daryl turns around and screams, “no!” From descriptions of the episode, it sounds to me like Dog gets separated from the group and Daryl goes looking for him alone.

Some of us have wondered if this is when Daryl will “see” Leah again. When he’s on his own and it’s just him and her and Dog. That would, once again, suggest her being something only he can see. Just conjecture on our part as we really have no idea how things will play out, but it’s an idea we’ve batted around.

Anyway, it doesn’t look to me like Dog is going to survive. And while that SUCKS (poor Dog, poor Daryl ☹) because Dog is the embodiment of the Sirius symbolism, it does make a certain amount of sense that they might kill him before Beth reappears.

The other big deal about this is that it’s a clear parallel template to Beth. If Dog = Beth, she gets separated from group, Daryl goes searching for her, found her, but she apparently didn’t survive, dying right in front of him. (Or so he understands.) It kind of looks like the exact same thing will happen with Dog.

We then see a blood-covered knife hit the wall just under a frightened-looking Connie’s nose. She seems to be a captive or prisoner somewhere, and clearly her life is in danger. We also hear FG telling someone not to be scared and see what I assume is a Commonwealth soldier in an orange suit.

We also see a very decomposed walker tied to a tree. We’ve seen that pose a few times, and my mind always goes to the blond girl tied to the tree that Aaron and Daryl find in 5x15. So, chances are this will be very symbolic.

Then we see Daryl in front of some burning shipping containers, staring out at people. It’s not clear if the people he’s look at are members of TF, or perhaps enemies, but he doesn’t exactly look carefree.

Remember that in 10x17, he and Maggie and their group stayed in these same kinds of containers. Jadis also kept Rick in a similar once back in S8, so it’s a theme that’s been building.

We then here FG say, “God isn’t here anymore.” We see what looks like a walker but it’s crawling forward in a super creepy fashion, looking almost like a demon. Most walkers don’t move that way unless injured, so it makes me question whether this is a walker or a human pretending to be one.

We also see someone hung upside down by their ankles from an overhead pipe. I’m reminded of the Librarian guy in 6x16/7x01 who was hung over the bridge. Again, it’s just a theme we’ve seen before, but hard to interpret because the trailer gives us so little context.

More from the underground tunnels including what looks like it couple be corpses stuck in dried cement. And we hear an interesting line. “This a damn death march and you’re the pied piper.” So, Pied Piper theme. Something else we’ve seen a lot.

Then we see Connie and Virgil running through rooms. Now, I’d assumed that when Virgil found her, he took her somewhere or took her captive. I guess I didn’t really trust him even after Michonne sort of came to and assumed he was kind of a bad guy. But based on this, it could be that both were taken captive after he found her. They both seem to be running and trying to escape.

We see Maggie lighting a flare inside a subway train. Then, in quick succession, more masked eyes, Maggie looking distressed, and then someone’s fingers slipping from a handgrip, as though they’re trying not to fall but not falling anyway.

Then we see Maggie walking first through a parking lot and then some kind of defunct mall near an escalator. She says, “I lost something. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing that I did.” 

And then we see what I think is Maggie and Negan helping someone who is injured. Because we only see the backs of their heads, it’s hard to tell for sure. But I think the two on the outside are Maggie and Negan. I can’t tell who they’re helping. It doesn’t look like Daryl or Carol, but beyond that, I could say. If you look to the right, you can see department store mannequins, so this still seems to be in the mall.

Things speed up again and we see lots of people in masks, what looks like walkers invading Alexandria, Carol hugging Magna (forgiveness for Connie, perhaps?), people wielding weapons and running different places, etc.

We then see a bunch more of the underground tunnels stuff. People killing walkers in trains and such. We hear Negan say, “this only works if we trust each other.” And then Daryl says, “if you say trust him, I’ll trust him.” No idea who Negan’s line is directed to, as it’s just a voice over here. Chances are Daryl is talking about Negan, but again, no way to be sure.

Then Maggie says, “The woman who lived is not the one standing here now, so keep pushing me Negan. Please.”  When she says the final word, “please” we see her pointing a gun at someone with Daryl standing behind her.

A couple of things here. This is where we see her take off a skin mask, but that’s in daylight in the woods, so clearly, it’s a different scene than the subway with her and Daryl. What I’ll say is that, to me, this line from her feels very stilted, which means it may be spliced together. Remember back in the S5 trailer when it sounded like Gareth wanted to take Eugene to Washington to cure the virus, but in the show, he never said anything remotely close to that? The words really were his, but they just took lines of his dialogue and spliced them together. It was very misleading. I feel like this line from Maggie may be the same way. No way to be sure. I could be wrong. But it just sounds unnatural to me, like different parts of her dialogue have been spliced together. And who knows if the person she’s pointing the gun at is even Negan. We can’t see them.

I’m just saying, take it with a grain of salt.

Then we see the TWD logo. But it’s not over, yet. We see a coda, which is Eugene at the Commonwealth. We see a happy little “welcome to the Commonwealth” promo video, followed by lots of darkness and drama around Eugene.

Why is this important? Beth was the coda of the S5 trailer. For S6, it was Sherry and Dwight capturing Daryl in 6x06, which was replete with Beth symbolism. In the S7 trailer, it was Tara finding Oceanside. I could go on but, while Beth clearly wasn’t in any of the seasons after S5, the codas to the trailers tend to deal with symbolism or storylines that we’ve tied to her in HUGE ways. And we already believe she’ll probably come through Eugene’s story line when we, the viewers, first see her. So, it’s significant that they used Eugene, rather than any other character, as the coda.

I also noticed that in the CW promo vid, we see things like a mall or department store and a train station. Those are the same kinds of places we see Maggie and Daryl and the others exploring, except where they are everything is dark, defunct and overgrown, where in the CW video it all looks happy and functional and vibrant.

Not sure what that means. Are they meant to be the same places? Is there just a duality theme going on here? Are the Reapers and the Commonwealth connected somehow? We just don’t know, but it’s interesting.

I also notice behind the narrator is a monument with the words “The Great War” on them. Practically, the monument is probably referencing WWI, which was often called The Great War at the time it was happening, because it was the first worldwide war up until that point.

But I have no doubt that this monument is purposely placed by the writers and foreshadows the big, coming war, that we won’t truly see until the spinoff.

Okay, that’s pretty much it, but let me go back to that scene with the masked person and Dog staring at Daryl.

I think most people are assuming that it’s Daryl in the foreground (and I concur) and therefore the person watching him, who Dog is so comfortable standing beside, must be Leah. And it’s possible that that’s true. But keep in mind that, especially when Daryl isn’t around, Dog is equally comfortable with Connie and Carol. So, we just can’t know for sure who this is in the mask. I even think it could possibly be Daryl himself. I know that probably doesn’t make any sense to you but let me explain.

The angles and clarity of this shot are very suspicious to me. Let’s start with the angles. Clearly this is meant to be someone Daryl doesn’t see, but he feels he’s being watched, which is why he takes out his knife. But if you look at the angles, he’d only have to turn his head a fraction of an inch to see this person, so why doesn’t he? It just doesn’t feel like realistic positioning for the vibe they’re going for.

Secondly, the line between the right side (Daryl in the foreground) and the left side (Dog and the masked figure) looks a bit blurry and indistinct to me. And there’s a brown pole running down the center of the frame. At first glance, it seems to be a tree trunk, but if you look at it, it’s way too smooth and symmetrical to be one. I think it’s a metal pole. And what would that be doing in the middle of the forest?

Why am I telling you this? Just to show why I don’t think this is a “real” shot from the shot. Could Daryl be hallucinating? Sure. That’s one possibility. But I really wonder if this is just two different shots spliced together to create a creepy vibe for the trailer. So, one is the masked person standing next to Dog, and the other is Daryl in the foreground. And they’ve been put together with a computer.

That’s why I think the hooded figure itself could be Daryl. @wdway pointed out that this hooded figure wears a large knife very close to the center line of their body, and we’ve seen both Beth and Daryl do that in past seasons. Plus, remember that scene from the beginning of the trailer I told you to remember, where Daryl has either red mud or walker guts all over his face? I’m wondering if he’s just taken off a mask there. It would also explain Dog standing so calmly beside him.

And of course I could be totally wrong as well. Maybe it IS a masked person watching him. Maybe it IS Leah. There’s just no way to tell for certain. I guess my point is just to take everything with a grain of salt. We’ve been told this trailer is very misleading, and there’s absolutely no confirmation of who any of the masked people or random eyes are. Just keep that in mind.

Oh, I also said I’d come back to the horses. I didn’t write down exactly where, but at one point, we get a shot of Maggie walking up on dead horses. So, they’ll clearly play a role this season. Maybe it’s a matter of TF seeing some wild horses, and then finding them dead, and realizing this means there are bad people around. 

But remember there was a dead horse near Princess and Eugene’s group last season when they walked through the field of landmines. So, it’s something that’s been foreshadowed. And I can’t help but wonder if clear back in S5, Buttons might be a foreshadow of what’s about to happen in S11. Especially if it leads to Beth, which we think it will, I’m gonna say it was. But of course we’ll have to wait and see what that’s all about. 

Okay, I think that’s all I have for the trailer. Thoughts?

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

TPWP Introspective

Hey guys!! So, as you noticed, there was no update today either, like I had commented that I may try and do if possible. The reason I didn’t post today, though, is because I remembered that I wrote a little introspective thing about TPWP a few days ago that I wanted to post before the next chapter, if possible. I spent the last hour and a half intermittently touching it up (while also talking to friends, ha). I wrote this after waking up at five in the morning and not being able to go back to sleep, so I was fairly tired and rambley when writing it, ha. 

Anyway, this is pretty long discussion about something that’s bugged me about TPWP for a little while, which is why I’ve made Taka so sexual despite not really thinking he would be like that in canon. In my attempt to write about that, my exhausted self also went into another problem I have with TPWP, which is the fact that neither Taka nor Mondo are really like their canon selves anymore. And while that was a purposeful thing, I never could pinpoint why, and I think I managed to in this post, so there’s that, ha. 

Now, it’s getting late and I’m very tired, so I’ll add my introspective thingy in a read more. It’s about 5k words and goes over a lot about Taka and Mondo’s interpretation in TPWP. 

Hey all! So, I wanted to go over something that’s been bugging me for a while in TPWP, though no one else seems annoyed by it. But I kind of am, so I just wanted to… I don’t know. Discuss it in case anyone else also has problems with it, but just isn’t bringing it up in comments. And the thing that I wanted to talk about is the fact that I’ve made Taka and Mondo so sexual in this story, despite this not really striking me as something Taka, in particular, would be like. In order to discuss all that, though, I have to go through a bunch of other explanations about what my main goal in this story has always been, as a kind of backstory. So, buckle up, my friends. This is a doozy.

 See, while I didn’t have much of an idea when I started writing, the one thing I knew I wanted to play around with was the idea of dismantling Taka and everything that makes him tick. In the game, he is shown as a strict, passionate, highly motivated character, spending so much time studying and trying to better himself that he lost sight of who he is other than that. He doesn’t have friends and confesses to Makoto that he doesn’t even understand how people make friends through connecting over things like television, since he’s so detached from anything other than his goals. The writers even comment on how he is almost mad with his passion and righteousness. 

 That whole persona seems so unattainable to me. I’m someone who seeks ‘perfection,’ right? I’m a perfectionist and it burns me so much to know that no matter what I do, there will always, ALWAYS be faults in the things I create. I put myself and my creations against others and always find myself lacking. It burns me and makes me feel so… I don’t even know. Unhappy.  Upset. Things like that. And I’ve gotten much better with this over the years, right? I accept that my work will not be perfect, and that anything I can create is enough since I created it and I enjoyed creating it. But the feeling is still there. The unhappiness. The discontent. 

 So, when I saw Taka and his madness to become better, I wanted to take that and see if I could deconstruct it. If I could break Taka down to his core, expose all of the secret little things inside of him that he must be hiding to present such a ‘perfect’ front, and turn it on its side. To give Taka reasons for his madness to better himself and then take it apart. Or, in other words, the entire premise I had for this story was to take Taka and break him down. And then, then I would build him back up. Into something less ‘perfect,’ less rules oriented, but a hell of a lot happier. Because in canon… Taka didn’t really strike me as happy. Not based on the things he would say to Makoto in both free time events and the school mode. 

 In order to do that, of course, I had to completely break apart the things that made him so rule oriented in the first place. And to someone who has spent almost their entire life building up this one persona, that sort of thing can be terrifying and uncomfortable. And it can lead to a lot of confusion and scrambling afterwards. 

 Chapter 17 was where I made the biggest break for Taka. I’d been chipping away at him for the first 16 chapters, and then 17 was the one where I took my sledgehammer and went to town. That chapter was the one in which Taka realized just how unhappy and discontent he had been growing up. He’d always stuffed that down and ignored it in order to keep going, forcing himself to ignore his pain so that he could become all that he wanted to be. He wasn’t even conscious of doing this since it was so deeply engrained in him by that point. Like I said in the very first chapter, Taka would run so fast and so fervently from his insecurities growing up that he didn’t even notice that they were occurring within him. Or if he did, he ignored them until it all went away.

 In chapter 17, Taka stopped being able to run. His feelings for Mondo created a huge rift inside him and he didn’t know how to handle it. And then, after his conversion with his father, he realized that he’d been forcing everything down for all of his life, to the point that he didn’t know who he was. He wanted to be an upright, moral individual, but how could he be if he is in love with a man? How can he be when he can feel such impure, base desire for someone, a man especially? And I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with a man loving a man, not at all! Just… it went against the carefully constructed morality Taka, personally, had spent his entire life forcing himself to abide by, and that was a huge blow to him. He couldn’t comprehend it and he just… fell apart. 

 But he didn’t fall apart alone. Mondo was there to catch him as he fell, was there to help gather the pieces, and Taka latched onto that. He didn’t know what was happening or why, but he knew that Mondo was a vital component to all of it. In a way… Mondo was everything to him. 

 The main point is that I wanted to break Taka’s character apart, mostly because I cannot imagine someone being that moral and upright while not being completely miserable (or without actually being completely immoral, like all those people who preach righteousness while actually doing horrible things behind the scenes without care). There’s a sort of misery in enforced righteousness, especially considering how horrible the world can be. I liked Taka and I wanted him to be happy. And I couldn’t, for the life of me, imagine him being the way he was portrayed in the game and also being happy. Maybe that’s just me projecting, but… I don’t know. 

 But deconstructing years of a carefully constructed persona is— like I said— terrifying. And for someone like Taka, whose entire life plan was crafted around a certain image? I can only imagine that would be like jumping off a plane into a black, inky darkness, no idea where you’re going to land. But Taka did that, because the only other option was to continue living with intense unhappiness, lying to himself to keep his sanity. But the problem with lying to yourself is that it gets so much harder once you know the truth. It can be done, of course, but it leads to even more unhappiness and pain and Taka… Taka realized that he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore. He… he wanted to be happy. Which is an incredibly hard thing to accept when you’ve spent years silently accepting your own unhappiness as a fact of life. 

 As such, everything that has occurred since chapter 17 has been Taka’s attempt at constructing a new personality, in a way. A personality that marries the beliefs and goals he has always had while also combining them with a new sense of happiness and contentment in his life that before now he’s never felt. And this… this is so, so hard for him to do. 

 And it gets harder when his and Mondo’s relationship shifts. When he gets a taste of something he’d previously not allowed himself to ever, ever feel. Which brings us to the questions of why, exactly, I put so much sexual content into this story, despite it not seeming like something Taka would really want to do in canon.

 Because… it’s not about pleasure. Right? It was never about pleasure or desire. It was about Taka allowing himself to feel something that every human feels (or, you know. Not every human. But a lot). It was about making Taka acknowledge that he is feeling these ‘impure,’ ‘sinful’ desires and allowing him to feel it. And, of course, this can be overwhelming. Taka has never allowed himself to feel these sorts of things before, had always pushed them so far down he couldn’t even see them. So far down he could pretend they weren’t there. 

 But they were. They always were. Taka can feel desire and attraction. He can feel them just fine. The whole point of the sexual content was to show Taka that it is okay to feel like that and that it’s not wrong or immoral. That Taka can feel attracted to someone, a man especially, and not feel ashamed. But more than that, it’s about allowing Taka to acknowledge that can be who is he in general without shame. That he doesn’t always have to be ‘perfect’ or infallible. That he can just be… Taka.

 The biggest problem in all of this, however, is the fact that Taka is not the only character in this story. He’s not the only one going through a metamorphosis. Because Mondo? Oh, you can bet your sweet behind I was making Mondo go through his own metamorphosis, too. 

 Because everything I said about Taka up until now? I also feel about Mondo. I view Mondo’s tough guy, biker persona just like I view Taka’s upright, moral one. It’s a facade. Something that is hiding what is truly going on under the surface. It protects their soft, gooey innards, keeping them both safe whilst also providing them a sense of being. Of belonging. 

 But it’s not healthy. Hiding behind a persona, not letting your true emotions show. It’s unhealthy and leads to, you know… pain and unhappiness. And Mondo… Mondo also strikes me as a somewhat unhappy character. His disconnect in the game is less towards other people, however, and more towards himself. Makoto acknowledges many times after speaking with Mondo during free time events that he has a hidden side to him. A softer, ‘cuter’ side that he tries (and fails, ha) to keep hidden. 

 Like with Taka, I wanted to break Mondo’s carefully constructed persona and remove this hidden person inside him. I wanted to bring that person to the surface, finally allowing Mondo to stop feeling like he has to hide behind anger and rage and being ‘strong’. I wanted… I don’t know. To allow Mondo to not feel so ashamed of his weaker side, I guess. 

 This was a lot harder to do than with Taka, though, for a couple reasons. One, I was not writing from Mondo’s perspective in TPWP, which means all of his metamorphosis was being seen through the eyes of another. Which is not always easy to portray, sadly. For another, Mondo has a huge reason to keep his inner self hidden and locked away. Taka’s reason is shame and a desire to prove himself, right? This, in my eyes, is fairly simple to deconstruct. All you have to do is find a way to remove the shame and realize that it’s okay to feel what you feel. And yes, this is challenging, but… it’s not impossible. 

 Mondo, though? What’s keeping Mondo back isn’t just shame and a desire to prove himself. No. What’s holding Mondo back is guilt. Mondo feels guilty for his weakness. He feels guilty that his supposed ‘weakness’ killed his brother. He feels guilty that this same ‘weakness’ is preventing him from telling the truth, from accepting the responsibility for his supposed crime. Mondo, in many ways, hates himself. In this story, at least. And guilt is a much, much harder emotion to deconstruct than shame. There’s also the fact that I made Mondo an abuse survivor, which adds another element into this all that I won’t get into since this whole thing is already much longer than I’d initially intended, oof. 

 Anyway. The point here is that both Taka and Mondo are going through this metamorphosis at the same time. And I did this purposely since I wanted to have them help each other grow. Right? Because I view Taka and Mondo as very similar characters. They both have a need to prove themselves and a sense of inner righteousness that guides them in what they do. They just took opposite paths in their expression of these things. But ultimately, at their core, Taka and Mondo are very similar in my eyes. 

 Honestly, that’s part of why I had them hate one another in the beginning (on top of the fact that they didn’t get along in the game at first either, ha). That was each of them seeing themself in the other, and absolutely hating what they saw. Because they hate themselves. Because they cannot stand the persona they’ve created. Because it’s such a painfully false front that it’s almost offensive to them to see it on another. 

 Chapter ten was my way of letting them acknowledge a sense of self love for the first time. By accepting the other as flawed, but still fundamentally good, it allowed them to see themselves in a somewhat positive light for the first time. To accept that this person they once hated with all of their heart is… not that bad when it comes down to it. And not only are they not that bad, but they’re actually kind of amazing, really. 

 I… hm. I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I am very tired and am kind of just rambling at this point. I guess I just… I wanted to acknowledge that I’ve changed both of these characters a lot from canon, Taka especially. And this change has been expressed in a great way in Taka’s increased sexuality. And that I know this, that I know this isn’t really what canon Taka would act like, but that’s kind of the point. As much as I love Taka as a character, he’s kind of one dimensional. All of the characters in Danganronpa are. I think, in a way, they’re meant to be. But when you spend time with them, during the free time events and the school mode, you begin to see a slightly more well-rounded picture. 

 But it… it still feels a little flat to me. A little hollow. So, in this story, I just… wanted to flesh out these characters that I like and see so much potential in. I wanted to take them, give them tragic backstories, and see if I could find a way to give them balance. To keep them somewhat the same as they once were, to not fully remove their canon aspects, but not have that be their sole, defining characteristic anymore. Taka is still the Ultimate Moral Compass, and Mondo is still the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader. But that’s not all they are. Not by the end of the story. 

 Now, did I succeed in my plan? I… honestly, I don’t know. This entire thing was never something I consciously thought of while writing. It was more… a desire of mine, which might be why I’m having such a hard time describing it here, ha. It’s up to all of you to determine if I succeeded in writing these characters in a way that respects their canon characterization, while also adding a sense of balance within them. 

 Also— not to sound pretentious (though I know I am, oof. I always am when dead tired, sorry)— but in a way, this whole story was a metaphor for self-acceptance and self-love. And allowing yourself to find peace in who and what you are, no matter what. I made Taka and Mondo literary parallels in this story for a reason, giving them similar backstories (Taka was abused by bullies and neglected by his father; Mondo was abused by his father and neglected by his mother. Mondo’s brother died, leaving a hole in his heart; Taka’s mother died, leaving a hole in his heart. Taka watched his grandfather fall from grace and used that as a catalyst to ‘better’ himself, thus hiding all the unpleasant and unsavory aspects about himself; Mondo watched his brother die and used that as a catalyst to ‘better’ himself, thus hiding all the unpleasant and unsavory aspects about himself… etc.) to showcase this metaphor, in a way. 

 And it… it was to show that them helping the other grow symbolizes allowing yourself to grow, too. It symbolizes taking all the harsh and ugly parts of yourself that you hate, seeing it in another person, and realizing you actually love them, really. It symbolizes showing kindness to yourself for your faults, something I personally struggle with. By having Taka and Mondo love one another so fiercely, even without fully knowing why… it symbolizes, in my mind, letting you love yourself. 

 And, like… I know how pretentious this sounds, ha. And I don’t think I really succeeded in portraying all of this, unfortunately. But I just… I don’t know. I love the idea of Taka and Mondo and I wanted to write a story where they love one another unconditionally, while at the same time learning to love themselves too. 

 In many ways, I wish I had made this story take place over the span of a longer amount of time. Three months is just… it’s too quick to do everything I wanted to do in this story. Like I’ve said before, this story was never meant to be so long, word count wise. And a lot of what I wrote about here was not really planned when I started writing. While I wanted to deconstruct Taka, I didn’t really realize how long that would take, oof. Or what it all would entail. I thought three months would be plenty of time in universe, but then more and more things started happening, and by the time I realized it would need more time to progress naturally, I had passed the point of no return, pretty much.

 If I could do this story all over again, I think I’d make it take place over the span of a year instead. I’d start the school year in April, like it’s supposed to be in Japan, and extend the amount of time Taka and Mondo were enemies. I’d have them become friends shortly before summer break and when they come back, have them go through the beginnings of their friendship like I had it in the story, but allowing it more time to progress. Taka and Mondo would still have their fight on Halloween, since that’s kind of an important aspect of that chapter, but they’d have had a longer time to be friends before that occurred. And then, after that, they’d have their physical relationship progress a lot more naturally and less hurriedly, the relationship spanning from perhaps right before winter break begins to the end of the school year in Japan, which is March. It would give them more time to come to terms with everything and accept themselves. 

 Part of me honestly kind of does want to change around TPWP to do this, but it would change a lot of fundamental parts of the story, which would be a lot of work. And if I was planning on publishing this story, I’d definitely do it since I think it would fix a lot of the problems that I have with how this story progresses. Three months is not long enough to completely deconstruct your entire personality, really. A year is a lot better and makes more sense to me. But, as it stands, I… I like TPWP. Is it perfect? No. But… that’s kind of the point? Nothing is perfect and if I allow myself, I’ll keep digging myself into more and more holes with this story, and at some point, I just… have to acknowledge I did the best I could and move on. Also, I do think that having it take place over three months isn’t completely unrealistic. Not with how unhappy both Taka and Mondo already had been. And there are some things that would be unrealistic if it took place over a year, too, so… eh.

 I really don’t know where I’m going with this anymore, dear god. I’m going to go back to my original point real quick and hopefully finish this now hour long, rambling rant I’ve for some reason been going on. Jeez. 

 So. The purpose of the sexual content in this story. It— like a lot of other things in this story— was more meant as kind of like… a metaphor. It’s not about the sex, it’s about self-acceptance. Taka spent so many years denying himself and his sexuality, fearing it and feeling ashamed of it. By allowing himself to be sexual and intimate with Mondo, he’s accepting that aspect of himself and embracing it. But, because he spent so long denying it, he doesn’t quite know when it’s too much. He’s spent his life pushing down his discontent and discomfort to become what other people want him to be, and as such, he doesn’t quite know where his own boundaries lie. 

 And I’m going to be quite honest with y’all: Taka doesn’t enjoy the sexual acts quite as much as he thinks he does. No, I’m not saying that Mondo is taking advantage of Taka, or that Taka hates what they’re doing, not at all! Just… Taka feels uncomfortable with the things he and Mondo are doing, but because he enjoys the sensation and enjoys being close to Mondo, he pushes down the feeling of discontent, like he’s done all of his life. He just… doesn’t know what else to do. He knows he likes being close to Mondo, knows he enjoys the things they do together, but can’t quite put his finger on the fact that he doesn’t really enjoy being sexual. That he only likes the sexual acts because it’s the only way he can be close to Mondo in the way he wants, both physically and— in a way— emotionally. 

 And part of Taka does realize this, right? The deep, deep, hidden part of himself that only comes out at night when everything else is silent. I call this the ‘introspective’ part. But this is a hard part of yourself to access and acknowledge. Especially when you’re young. I, personally, am a very introspective person. It’s why I can write about emotions and feelings decently, and why I am currently writing this little introspective about TPWP. But it was a lot harder for me when I was a teen to realize what that introspection meant. It’s why I didn’t realize I had undiagnosed anxiety until I was eighteen and in college, which was ironically a lot easier for me than high school was. It took me being out of the situation I was in to look at myself and realize exactly why I felt what I felt, even though I knew I felt that stuff much earlier. 

 Taka’s still in his bad situation, though. He’s still struggling with the desire of what he wants and what he’s forcing himself to settle for. And, basically, he doesn’t understand why he’s unhappy at being sexual. He knows on a base level that he is, but he can’t quite place his finger on the why. Which is, as I’ve said, because it’s not really what he wants. He’s settling for having Mondo in whatever way he can because he thinks he has to. But it’s not what he wants, and it’s honestly killing him inside to be so close to his desired outcome, but not have it. He hates that the only way he can have Mondo is in such a shallow, debased way, but he’s forced himself to believe that this is all he will ever have, and that he must be happy with it or else he will lose it, like he’s lost every good thing in his life before that point. And the thought of losing what he and Mondo have is just… it’s too much for him. He’s still figuring himself out, still building his new personality from the ruins of the old, and he kind of needs Mondo to help prop him up as he does this. 

 (Which is, by the way, unhealthy in a relationship. It’s very codependent and can lead to some negative outcomes in its own right. But this rant of mine has been going on for almost two hours, so I’m not going to get into this right now. Just know that I know, and that it’s not intended to be portrayed as a good thing. None of Taka’s coping mechanisms are, which is why they all fail in the end, leaving him discontent. But as of now, Taka kind of needs Mondo, so he’s overlooking the potential negative outcome and is just allowing himself to have Mondo. Make sense?) 

 In the end, the only way for Taka to fully come to terms with everything that is swirling within him is to have Mondo acknowledge the love they share for each other, since he can’t accept everything about himself until Mondo does. He needs Mondo to look at him, look at his flaws, and say ‘I love you no matter what. You are not perfect, but I still love you.’ And while Mondo has done this to some degree, it’s not the love Taka not-so-secretly desires. But, like I said earlier, Mondo is going through his own metamorphosis and isn’t quite at that stage yet. 

 All of this comes to a head in the last three chapters of TPWP. Does everything get resolved by the end? No. Of course not. There’s just not enough time for that. Discovering yourself takes years, really. And you never finish. Even if I had elongated the amount of time this story takes place to a year, there still would be things unresolved when the story ended. 

 That being said, the main problems both Taka and Mondo are going through reach a conclusion. I don’t want to go too much into this to prevent spoilers, but just know that everything I brought up here? Gets some form of acknowledgment in the last chapters and gets some manner of resolution. And everything else was initially intended to be resolved in sequels, which may or may not be written, who knows. But TPWP ends in a way that even without further writing from my part, I firmly believe that all of y’all can see where Mondo and Taka will go from here. That it won’t be easy, but that they will eventually figure themselves out. 

 So… yeah. That insanely long and complicated rant boils down to this: Taka and Mondo being sexual is not really about them being sexual but is about them understanding and accepting their love not just for one another, but for themselves, too. It’s a catalyst. And I didn’t go over Mondo’s views on this all, and I won’t since this has gone on so long (plus I’ve not written Mondo’s perspective on those chapters yet, so even I don’t fully know, though I have ideas), but believe me when I say it’s more than just sex for him, too. That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t really want to categorize this story as explicit at first, since it’s never been about the sex to me. It’s… more than that. 

 I don’t know if any of this made any sense, but I think I’m going to stop now. Maybe I’ll go back when I’m less tired and expand on this (and I’ll let y’all know if I do, writing after this break if I added anything or not) (I added a little to some parts and took out a couple of parts, but mostly this is the same thing I wrote between 5 and 7 am when I couldn’t sleep, ha), but for now, I’ll leave it. 

  ~

And— final thing (that I added after trying to fall back asleep and failing, ha)— maybe I’m being more pretentious about my writing than it deserves. Maybe I’m saying all of this to try and excuse the flaws in my writing, like I always do internally. But… I don’t know. This is legitimately the sort of thing that went through my head whilst writing. I knew I wanted to put these elements in my story, even if I wasn’t consciously thinking about it, but trying to do all of that is just… hard. And I’m limited as a writer, I’ll acknowledge that. My thoughts are too big for my head and trying to write them all down is complicated for me. It’s why this little introspective is so long and rambling. It’s my way of trying to not just get you all to figure out what I mean, but also get myself to understand it. Because, while I know what I mean on an abstract, metaphysical level, I don’t really understand it all myself in a concrete, definable level. And this rambling is me trying to make sense of that. Does… does that make any sense at all? Or is this just gibberish? I don’t know. I think I understand it, but I have no idea if anyone else will. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

 Anyway. I hope this didn’t come across as too pretentious or like I’m trying to show off how ~~intellectual~~ I am. That’s not my intention at all. It’s just… it’s how I think. And it’s how I show myself to the world, in a way. My written work is always so personal to me. I put a lot of myself into my work, sometimes intentionally, but often unintentionally. And I’m not saying I went through any of what I put Mondo or Taka through. In fact, almost none of it relates to my life at all. I was never abused by anyone, nor was I bullied in school. I have a fairly good relationship with my parents and was well liked by my classmates, even when I didn’t really go to class often due to illness. I am not impoverished, nor have I ever really faced high expectations from family or the people around me. I’ve never really had to anguish over my sexuality, since I accepted myself as asexual pretty easily, though I still struggle to be open about it with everyone. And I’ve never lost a loved one.

 So… no. It’s not that I’ve gone through what the characters have gone through. But… the emotions. The feeling. All of that… it’s me. Even if it’s imagined or created, I feel everything that I write and put down. It’s why angst comes more naturally to me, since I’ve felt a lot of negative emotions in my life. And most of it is self-inflicted. Like… I mentioned that I never had high expectations from family, but I did from myself. I expected so, so much from myself, and I still do. And while I was always well liked by my peers, I still felt alienated from them, like I… I don’t know. Didn’t really belong. And I feared that if they ever got to truly know me, THEN they’d hate me, and that was just… I don’t know. Too much for me. The thought that these things could happen. That I could have good things and then, through my own personal failings, lose them. 

 These fears are where I come from when writing. My fear of being hated and isolated. My fear of never being enough. My fear of letting everyone down. My fear of always being alone and losing the people I love. I write about it in my stories and I… I find a way to fix it. To show myself that even if something like that did happen, it… it can get better. You can still be loved even if you are flawed and kind of broken inside. And maybe I don’t believe that I ever will find love, maybe I can’t believe that anyone would look at me like that if they truly got to know me, but it’s still nice to read about it. To see my fears in characters I love and have them be okay in the end. It’s why I always like to have at least somewhat happy endings in my stories. I need to see that it’s okay. That even if the worst-case scenario happened… I’d still be okay. 

 (Also, I know people are going to ask this, but please know that yes, I am okay. I get like this sometimes, where I think a lot about stuff, and it can be overwhelming, which is why I write it down. It’s funny that I’ve never had a diary or journal, since it seems like something that would help me, but writing things down for my personal perusal never made sense to me. It’s why I always post things like this. It’s really personal, but it helps me feel better. Like I’m being understood in some way. So, just… know that I’m doing alright. I just wanted to try and explain something that has been bugging me in this story for a while now that I finally found the words for. And by letting it out into the world, I can remove it from my chest, I suppose. But introspection doesn’t really upset me much. It’s cathartic more than anything. Painful and confusing while going through it but relieving once it’s done. All I ask is to be heard, that’s all. And understood if possible. If you’re willing.)

 (Also also, please know that I wrote this little introspective several days ago while very tired, and I’m over this burst of emotions by now mostly. So, again, I’m really okay. And I’m not pulling a Taka, trying to pretend I’m doing alright when I’m not. I do mean it, ha.)

 (Also also also, but y’all can see where I get my writing style from when looking at this, ha. This is basically my thought process written down, which is why TPWP is written the way it is. I write like I think, which is long, rambling, and emotive. Just a little fun fact. ^-^)

[gohyuck]

5+9+23 ? With Jaemin.

originally requested by @heyyyun ! my tumblr kept glitching so i copy/pasted your ask into my askbox lol.

based on this post

this was a fun combo of requests lol... and the freaky friday things definitely threw me for a loop. it got lowkey nsfw really fast, too, so there’s that. outright female reader

ft. a horny jeno lmfao

5) roommates

9) freaky friday

23) i thought you hated me but i just accidentally sent you a booty text and you accepted and i am seriously considering it

you aren’t living with jaemin because you want to.

it’s something you make very clear to any and everyone you know - jaemin is your roommate out of your necessity, not out of your choice. he was the first and only person to answer the desperate ad you’d placed in the newspaper when you’d realized you wouldn’t make rent without a roommate, and, before you could find any other option, you were stuck with him.

now, you refuse to be gotten wrong: it isn’t like he’s the worst roommate ever. he can cook, and he cleans up well enough, and he’s never made a late payment. hell, he’s even courteous and about as well-mannered as any guy in his early twenties can get, so you can’t really complain on that front. he’s nice to your friends and always lets you know before having company over, and he doesn’t hesitate to ask if you need anything before he goes shopping for himself. he isn’t a bad guy, by any means.

what he is is an incorrigible and unstoppable flirt.

for his part, he isn’t too thrilled with you either - ‘my little prude’ seems to be his favorite go to nickname for you as of late, and you’d be lying if it didn’t bother you. still, you suppose, you aren’t too gentle in calling him a manwhore to his face. he only ever laughs, seemingly delighted to wear the title like a badge.

even now, you can hear the girl in your living room giggling at something your roommate has said, his own voice just a little too low for you to hear from the confines of your bedroom. he’d texted you during lunch to tell you he’d have a date over, and you’d sent him back four successive eyeroll emojis. he’d taken your annoyance as a ‘yes, please eyefuck your newest fling for two hours while sitting on the couch i paid for’ and now you’re stuck, crosslegged on your bed with your laptop at half mast and one earphone in, other ear listening to jaemin turn his charisma up to the highest it can go for what will culminate in, at most, yet another one night stand that’ll have you wishing for soundproof walls.

you sigh as she laughs again, followed by jaemin saying something along the lines of ‘let me pour you some more’. there’s a faint clink of glasses and a sudden lowering of their voices, and you decide it’s best if you put your other earphone in.

some things aren’t worth the mental scarring.

it’s almost two hours later when you finish with the essay you’re working on, pull your earphones out of your ears and place the case gingerly on your nightstand, and shut your laptop down for the night. you can’t hear anything from out in the living room, and, surprisingly, there’s no unsavory sounds coming in from jaemin’s room down the hall, either. maybe they’ve already had their fun, you ponder.

she’ll slink out of your apartment in the morning, you guess. maybe you’ll be nice and offer her pancakes on her way out.

you grab your phone from where you’d thrown it haphazardly onto your bed earlier. there’s plenty of text messages lighting up your screen, most of which you ignore. one catches your eye immediately, though.

from: jeno ;)

i’ve been thinking about you.

his text has you quirking an eyebrow, but as you scroll up to find the picture that accompanies it, you take a sharp breath, your teeth sinking into your lower lip on impulse.

you’ve been fucking jeno for weeks, but even now the sight of his prominent bulge covered only by thin gray sweatpants has your mouth watering. the two of you are good friends - surprising, considering he’s jaemin’s best friend - and you know what you have will never amount to a real relationship. it’s the healthiest you can imagine a friends-with-benefits relationship to be, and you’re grateful for it.

and for the sex. god, are you grateful for the sex.

you rush to change out of the ratty old band shirt and boy shorts you’re wearing, opting to switch them out for a lace set you’d bought recently that you’ve been dying to show off. you clasp the bra easily before you pull on the matching light pink underwear.

as you settle in front of the floor length mirror that leans against your closet door, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to jaemin. his little prude, huh? you laugh to yourself, wondering how he’d react if he knew you got dicked down semi-regularly by jeno. just because you aren’t as obvious as he is doesn’t mean you aren’t getting any.

you switch positions until you find a pose that’s just right, capturing your bitten bottom lip, the swell of your breasts, and how the lace hugs your hips. before you can second guess yourself, you snap a picture. 

if only jaemin could see you now.

you type out a short message - see something you like? maybe you should come over and look closer - and hit send, staring at your reflection for a bit longer before pushing yourself off the floor and back up onto your bed. it’s late, far too late for jeno to take you up on your offer, but it can’t hurt to ask. hell, maybe he’ll come over anyways. maybe you can make jaemin wish his walls were soundproof for once.

your phone vibrates in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts of revenge against your roommate. you glance down, ready to respond cheekily to whatever jeno has said, and -

oh.

from: jaemin :/

fuck

yes

i wouldn’t mind, sweetheart. still, you could’ve asked in person. i’m only a door away, you know

your eyes widen in panic as you realize that, because you’d been thinking of jaemin earlier, you’d typed his name in and not jeno’s, resulting in you sending your honest-to-god nudes to your roommate. you rush to rectify your mistake, your fingers flying as you type a frantic response.

even as you hurry to tell him not to show up to your room naked, which you’re very afraid of him doing whether he has a girl over or not, a voice in the back of your mind can’t help but perk up.

i mean, jaemin is kind of hot, it says, actively laughing at your predicament. you wouldn’t mind being underneath him as he-

"shit!” you hiss out loud, acting as if swearing will distract you for your own thoughts. you press send, cursing the universe for causing your life to lead up to this moment as you do. 

to: jaemin :/

FUCK they weren’t meant for you 

please delete and pretend this never happened

+ don’t you have someone over????

his response comes quickly, and you brace yourself to read them. 

from: jaemin

lol PLEASE as if you have someone to sends nudes to

but yes i’ll delete :(

she left like an hour ago, not really my type

for the sake of your sanity you choose not to respond, only liking his message about deleting the picture you’d sent. you switch out your lace set for the clothes you’d had on earlier, not even bothering to respond to jeno as you’d meant to earlier. as you put your phone on charge and turn out your light for the night, you do your best to force yourself to sleep. 

hopefully, this whole ordeal will have blown over in the morning. 

♕ ♕ ♕

the first thing you notice when you wake up is how insanely bright the sun is. the white curtains on your window do nothing to stop the light from pouring into the room, and you - wait.

white curtains?

you look around, taking in the beat up ryan plushie on top of the bookshelf in the corner of the room and the gaming chair at the desk. as you become more and more awake, your setting makes itself obvious. 

once you realize it, you bolt upright, wondering what the hell you’re doing in jaemin’s room, especially when jaemin is nowhere to be found. you know you don’t sleepwalk, and you know for a fact that you’d fallen asleep in your own bed. 

it’s only as you swing your legs out of bed and happen to glance down at them that you realize what has happened.

before you can say anything, however, you hear a voice - your own voice exclaim a loud ‘what the hell?’ from down the hall. you rush out of your - jaemin’s - room, only to immediately run into what looks to be your own body.

“(name)?” it says, and you gulp before nodding.

“jaemin?”

♕ ♕ ♕

“look,” you say, pinching your - jaemin’s - nose bridge. “we’ve been arguing for like an hour, now. it’s obvious that neither of us know why this happened, so we might as well try to figure out what we can do to make it un-happen!”

“it’s because you sent me that nude,” he says, running a hand through his - your - hair. “the universe reset itself out of shock at seeing you do something remotely sexual.”

“if i was in my own body, i’d kick your ass right now,” you swear, pushing yourself up off of the dining table which you’d been leaning against. you take a threatening step towards jaemin. he laughs. 

“if i was in my own body, i’d... i’d probably be jerking off right now, to be honest. i miss my dick.”

you wince in disgust, staring down at his - your - face. “better not be to my picture.”

he shakes his - your - head at this, though not without raising his eyebrow at you. “i’m not a complete asshole - i deleted when you asked me to.”

“thank you,” you respond, not sure what else is to say. jaemin nods sagely before a grin starts spreading across his face.

“you know, maybe we have to recreate last night to fix it. do the same things, you know? who was the message meant for last night? maybe i’ll send them another one today.”

the thought of jaemin taking nudes of your body makes you feel dizzy in both bad and good ways. you realize he actually expects you to tell him, and you find yourself shaking your head no in response.

he quirks an eyebrow of yours. 

“what, don’t want me to know? it’s not like i’ll tell anyone, you know. i mean-”

“it’s not that,” you hurry to tell him, and he smirks at you in return. 

“no? then what is it?”

before you can respond, jaemin continues speaking, and you realize his question had been rhetorical. “oh, i know!” he says, sounding as if he’s had the realization of a lifetime. “you meant to send it to me, didn’t you? you just lied and got cold feet, after. i knew it! there’s no way you’re actually-”

in your haste to get jaemin to shut the hell up and your current inability to think straight, you cross the space between you two in one stride before pressing your mouth against his (or, you guess, his mouth against yours), desperate to get him to stop talking. your eyes are screwed shut anyways, so you don’t see his slide shut. 

the two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity before you pull away.  

“i’m so sorry-” you start, opening your eyes to peer sheepishly up at jaemin. 

wait. 

up?

you blink once, twice, before bursting out into laughter. jaemin, after overcoming his own befuddlement does the same. 

“oh my god, i can’t believe that fixed it,” you say once you get over the shock of being back in your own body. “holy shit.”

“i can’t believe any of that happened in the first place,” jaemin says, and you nod in agreement. a silence falls between the two of you almost immediately as you both try to figure out what to say to each other now. 

you glance around the room, searching for something to fixate your gaze on. you know jaemin is doing the same beside you. before you can say something embarrassing - you’re seriously considering patting him on the back and going ‘good work out there’ - jaemin rests his hands lightly against your waist, forcing you to meet his eyes with yours. 

“i kind of wish i’d experienced our kiss from inside my own body,” he says, and you search his face for an iota of a joke, something that says he’s messing with you. 

there’s none to be found. you reach a hand up to rest against the back of his neck and, before you know it, you’re cupping the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours once again, though this one is much more passionate than the last. his hands tighten their grips on your waist as he pulls you flush against him, and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

once you pull away, you can’t bring yourself to leave his grasp. instead, you ask him the question that’s burning on your mind. 

“do you want to see the lace set in person?”

your roommate nods, his excited actions directly contrasting his dark, hooded gaze. he lets you take his hand in yours, allowing you to drag him to your room. just as you shove open your bedroom door, however, jaemin speaks again. 

“out of curiosity, who was the picture meant for?”

you stare at him for one, two beats before sighing, wincing right after. he gazes back at you both steadily and expectantly, and you figure you may as well say it. 

“it ... it was meant for jeno.” 

"what?”

[thotsforvillainrights]

Thanksgiving with the Shie Hassaikai headcanons? Can we also pretend Pops is awake for this too? 🥺

(No worries! We always pretend Pops is awake because I live in a constant state of denial where I pretend Kai isn’t an asshole that put him in a coma. Anyway lol, let’s just pretend you work for the Hassaikai for this one! Ps: I was hoping someone would request this)

~Thanksgiving with the Hassaikai~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Although you’ve only been employed to the Hassaikai for 10 months so far, everyone already knew your personality well enough to see this coming. That’s why when you called an emergency meeting, nobody was surprised at your request for celebrating Thanksgiving together. However, that didn’t make it easy for getting everyone to agree. Rappa, Tabe, Deidoro, Pops, and Toya were excited for it! Hojo, Tengai, Nemoto, and Chrono were indifferent and didn’t mind trying it. The only complaints were from Kai (as usual when you suggested something fun) and Mimic (who didn’t see the point in it). Thankfully Pops was delighted by you from the very moment you showed up at the base. So of course he was on your side. Since he was still the big boss, there was nothing anyone could do to deny you. 

-”Okay everyone is required to bring something so we can have a feast. Work in teams to get this stuff done, and I’ll do the assigning! So Pops, you don’t have to worry about a single thing okay? Don’t worry about getting anything together but if you absolutely want to then I don’t mind.” You smiled at him and he cheerfully nodded. “Okay here’s the line up: Rappa and Katsukame are in charge of the Turkey. I’m putting a lot of faith in you guys. The turkey is the star of the show and I need it done perfectly! Or at least...as good as you can manage. Tengai and Mimic can handle the devilled eggs. Deidoro and Hojo are in charge of getting the drinks. Please do not show up with only alcohol. In fact, I’m mainly counting on you Hojo to make sure Sakaki doesn’t do this. Now Tabe and Setsuno are in charge of getting the plates, cups, cutlery, and the deserts. Toya I’d focus on doing the deserts so Tabe won’t get tempted to eat them. Finally Overhaul and Chrono can get the side dishes. This includes Macaroni, Greens, Cranberry Sauce, any and all side meats like chicken or whatever. Ceaser salad, Potato salad, etc. You guys get the drift. The reason why I put so much on you is because I’m confident you guys can handle the load. Finally I’ll be working with Shin to get the Ham. That’s all! Any questions?” Immediately you got hands in the air.

Pops: “May I help make some of the main dishes?” He asked with slight puppydog eyes. Rather childlike for his old age, but you couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to. “Pops we just want you to relax as the head of the table, but if you really want to then you may attempt it.” 

Deidoro: “How much and what kind of alcohol am I in charge of?” His eyes were super focused causing you to laugh a bit. “Okay well let’s not go overboard first of all. It’s not like a Halloween party or anything wild like that. We’re getting together over dinner and expressing thanks for the things we received so graciously.” You explained. He paused and deadpanned. “So...just wine then?” ...”Yeah, just wine. And not the strong kind either. Maybe you can get a little Sake for yourself.”

Rappa: “Yes uh, how in the fuck am I supposed to cook this shit?” Katsukame punched his shoulder. “You big idiot, we bake it!” Rappa punched him back as a reply. “Fucking DUH, but like what kind of seasonings???” Katsukame punched him again. “Probably something not too heavy so we focus more of the fucking flavor of the dressing in side of it.” Rappa once again punched back as a rebuttal. “Fuck off, cilantro is all you had to say you bastard.” You immediately had to speak up between them before their playful banter would turn into an entire indoor death match. “Okay guys, don’t focus too hard on it. This is kinda western so just look up some recipes and videos please? And most importantly, always have a back-up turkey on hand just in case you guys mess up the first one.”

Kai: “Yeah I have a question. Where the hell do you get off on telling me what to do? I’m you’re boss and you’re just barely high enough up to even be considered a precept.” Pops immediately got up and slapped the back of Kai’s head. “Bite your tongue Chisaki and apologize!” Kai grumbled and bowed for a second while uttering a short apology. Chrono chuckled off to the side as he tried to hold back his laughter. 

Mimic: “Who’s wallet is this coming out of???” You smiled at him and he gulped. “Well not from our pay. We’ll call it a holiday event and pull from the reserves. The yakuza has been thriving lately under Pops of course. Unless anyone wants to donate?” You looked at Kai with fluttering lashes and he glared at you. “Fuck fine. I’ll cover the expenses on my end.” You smiled and nodded. 

-If only from that point on things could’ve went well but there were just too many obstacles of course. Not on you and Nemoto’s end of course! You two were efficient and quick. You got in and out of the grocery store in under 2 hours with the perfect ham. You agreed to go to his apartment to cook it together since the house kitchen at the base would go to Pops, Chrono, and Kai more than likely. And the lower part of the base kitchen would belong to Rappa and Rikiya. The TRUE issues arose on the ends of everyone else. Pops was an angel and the food he attempted to make was reasonable, but the old man overdid it and ended up making 4 of the same cakes. What were you going to do with exactly 4 red velvet cakes??? Anyway, as to be expected, Rappa and Rikiya fucked up BOTH of the turkeys. You had to make them search all around town to find a pre-done turkey on the morning of Thanksgiving itself. They eventually found one from a generous donor in exchange for that person having their debt to the yakuza swept under the rug. Chisaki and Chrono did a pretty good job but they took so long that half of the stuff was still being set up when it was time to start dinner. Tabe actually did an okay job at setting the table up. The real surprise was that SETSUNO was the one that was tempted and ended up munching corners off of the deserts. Of course Sakaki showed up with a wide variety of alcohol that Hojo didn’t even notice he had snuck into the other shopping cart. Meanwhile Tengai and mimic had decorated the devilled eggs rather poorly. Tengai believed the minimal was better and Mimic was trying to cut corners with price/quality. Nevertheless everything was set up and you all began to review the things you were thankful for.

“Well I just wanna start off by saying that I’m thankful for this job and the bonds I’ve made with you all not just as coworkers but as people. I truly consider the Hassaikai to be like family.”

Pops: “I want to thank everyone as well for working so hard for our little family here. I also want to thank you Y/N for bringing some youthful joy into my life once again.”

Kai: “I suppose I’m thankful for my good health and sanity dealing with all of you on a daily basis.”

Chrono: “Yo, I’m thankful for my last paycheck but also for the years I’ve served here. It kinda has been almost like a fam to me yknow. Not trying to get sappy or anything but thanks you guys.

Mimic: “This is weird but I guess I’ll try it. I’m thankful for uh...the opportunities set forward in front of me.”

Nemoto: ”I’m very much thankful for our leader, and also for master Overhaul. I appreciate you for allowing me to strive in my work the way that I do. I can only hope to continue pleasing you both as my time goes on at this organization. That is all.”

-Deidoro: “Thanks to this damn Saki I’ve already had 2 and a half cups of while everyone wasn’t listening. Also thankful for my liver as well.”

-Hojo: “Well I guess I can say I’m thankful for everyone here and for the boss when he took me in off the street and healed me after I almost died.”

Setsuno: “Yeah thanks for giving me purpose again boss. I’m thankful for that too.”

Tabe: “Food...friends...found family...”

Katsukame: “Fucking thanks for letting us have enough chance after we fucked up two of those damn turkeys. I thought you were gonna kill us Y/N.” 

Tengai: “I’m rather thankful for my sanity as well, after dealing with this job so much...”

Rappa: “This shit is cheesy but damn it I’m thankful for everything here too! I aint much at speeches so I’m gonna stuff my face now.” 

-So there you go. It may not have been the most conventional thanksgiving but it was something along the lines of a ‘perfect disaster’ all in it’s own. You can only sit back and look at everyone eating and talking before you realize that a Christmas party might not be so bad to start planning for either.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

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[cupofteaguk]

come over here and make me

FROM THE PETALS COLLECTION

[pairing] :: yoongi x fem!reader

[genre] :: best friend au + fluff

[word count] :: 2.1k 

[note] :: taken from my old nct blog. i don’t write for nct anything + i don’t see myself ever posting this fic under nct anymore but i have a soft spot for this story and still wanted to post it. 

.

It’s horrible. Disgusting, even. Dreadful and shameful and shocking and ghastly all at once. Seriously, the boy could not come up with enough terrible words to describe his feelings and the unpleasant sensation coursing through his body and hitting upon every nerve underneath his skin—the feeling of responsibility. The feeling of having to take care of someone just to avoid the guilt that usually accompanies leaving someone behind, not that he sees you as unnecessary baggage or weight or an obligation or a problem, it’s just that now you are completely and utterly—!

“Shitfaced,” Yoongi hisses, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you upright and grounded—okay maybe grounded was too generous of a world to describe you and your current state of mind, because you’re lopsided and rocky and he’s sure that if he left you on your own you would tip over and that would be a new problem in it of itself. “Absolutely shitfaced. How could you be so fucking stupid?” 

“I’m not stupid,” You manage weakly, stumbling on one of the steps and he has half a mind to just leave you at the base of the stairs and spend the potential two and a half hours it would take you to sober up from this mess. However, the thought of the alcohol poisoning your liver or sending bile upwards keeps him at bay, keeps him rooted to your side. Besides, he would never leave you to fend for yourself. Min Yoongi may be the star of the basketball team, easy on the eyes and the words and a certain disarming gummy smile, who fucked around and definitely did not do the whole emotions and feelings thing, but like most seemingly perfect systems, this one had a kink, a flaw. A weakness, one that takes the form of bright eyes, soft hair he loves to curl his finger around, cheerful smile, nerdy and unique habits that make his heart spike: you. 

He likes to think that he’s not soft without a purpose, likes to rationalize with himself that there must be some reason as to why you of all people continue to get under his skin time and time again, why he naturally gravitated back towards you. It might be time, how you probably knew him better than anyone else, how comfortable he felt under your presence. It might be reassurance, how being with you and talking to you and sitting with you are all just as easy as breathing. Most of all, it might be because he’s a tad bit too in love with you, but you’d have to get him very drunk to get him to admit that (which explains why a certain Jung Hoseok knows one of his deepest and darkest secrets). 

But the debate (or the discussion) regarding Min Yoongi being in love with you is far from the point of tonight, because the tables have turned and a dare has switched the roles and he’s been reduced to dragging your drunk ass up the flight of stairs to his apartment and god, you were so fucking heavy with all that dead weight. 

“Remind me to never let you get near Jimin again,” He sneers under his breath, mentally cursing out the boy who had offered the shot of vodka to you in the first place. “I swear to god, I leave you alone for two fucking seconds—!” 

“M’not my fault!” You whine, at least having the conscious decency to stay leaning against the wall that Yoongi has propped you against in order to dig around his pockets for his keys. “It was good…” 

“You’re stupid,” He repeats with a shake of his head, unlocking the door and kicking it open long enough to help you inside. You’re no stranger to his apartment, practically living in it on the nights you spend studying with him or playing video games or, once again, just being in each other’s presence. It’s one of his favorite ways to pass the time, but you’d have to get him drunk to admit that one as well. He distracts himself by dragging you towards the couch, easing you down onto the cushion. “You stay here, lemme grab you a sweater.” 

You hum, falling back against the surface. “I love it when you give orders.” 

Min Yoongi has only gotten you drunk out of your mind a grand total of three times within the long period of time the pair of you have spent growing up together, so how could he have forgotten that you’re the type of affectionate, say-whatever-the-fuck-is-on-your-mind type of drunk and it has a tendency to drive him crazy. Not bad crazy, but the kind of crazy that almost makes him want to kiss you and confirm the fact that your lips are even softer than he’s spent way too long fantasizing about. 

He swallows thickly to dispel himself of those thoughts. “Shut up,” He manages long enough to make his escape, disappearing into the hallway and reappearing a few moments later with a sweater from his closet. “Here,” He says, reappearing just to toss you the garment. 

He’s about to turn and go back to grab some blankets for you before your whining interrupts the thought process. He sighs, turning on his heel again to find you desperately trying to find the zipper of your dress, twisting your body uselessly and arms unable to bend back far enough to reach it. You make a face, scrunching your face up, nose wrinkling and in spite of his exhaustion and the alcohol overpowering the previous adrenaline, he can’t help but quirk up the corner of his lips. Cute. 

He approaches you, sitting next to you on the couch and turning your body to the side, making quick haste to unzip your dress—not that the gesture makes him uncomfortable and not that he’s never done it before, but the action seems so private and intimate and romantic, which would normally make him want to fling himself off a cliff but with you it’s different. With you, it’s clammy hands and racing hearts and shaky breaths and just so beyond the typical Min Yoongi image that he desperately longs to separate himself from it at every possible moment. Weak, that’s what he was. With you, he’s just weak and pliable and easy to manipulate and an idiot. 

Yoongi practically tears the zipper down, flinging himself off the couch as soon as he catches sight of the skin of your back, shutting his eyes as he throws his body down on the floor. “D-Did I get it?” He inquires shakily, actually super glad that you’re drunk and likely won’t remember any of the stupid shit he could potentially say or do during a duration of the night. Finally, he wills himself to look up at you. “Do you need help with—oh my god, Y/N!” He exclaims, throwing his hands over his eyes, the image of you stripping your dress off still very clear and very vivid in his mind. “A little warning next time, will you?” 

“Yoongi, I need help,” You manage, your voice muffled by what sounds like a pillow. “I can’t put your sweater on… Yoongi!” 

He grits his teeth together, repeating the affirmation of your current state of mind and how you didn’t know any better, and how you couldn’t have known about his own personal feelings for you when no one else knows—except him and Hoseok, but besides the point. 

“Fine, fine, you big baby,” He scolds, throwing his hands down at his side and gazing down at your figure collapsed on the couch. From the light of his apartment, it’s hard to miss the black undergarments you’ve slipped yourself into, the hemline where fabric meets skin, so he works hard on distracting himself by grabbing his sweater on the other end of the couch. “Sit up for me.” 

You groan, but follow his order by arising on the cushion, watching him with wide, glassy eyes. “Yoongi,” You start, continuing to gaze up at him as he busies with straightening out the sweater in order to make it easy to slip onto you. “You’re really pretty—did you know that?” 

He stiffens slightly, heart ramming as he swallows, pinning you with a confused stare that completely goes over your head. 

The corner of your lips turn up into a smile. “Like, really pretty. Your hair always looks soft, and so does your face. Your eyes get this little sparkle when you smile, and your jawline…” 

“Y/N,” He interrupts, approaching you and raising the sweater up, watching as you raise your own arms up to help him slip the material over your head. “Shut up.” 

“I thought you liked it when people complicated you!” You retort, your statement muffled by the sweater. “I know you pretend not to, but I see that little smile you get when you think no one is watching. You always try to look really cold and calculating in front of everyone, you try to look like nothing bothers you, but you’re just a dork.” Your head pops through the top of the sweater. “You smell really good too.” 

In spite of the words you say having an effect on his mind, his heart, his nerves, he can’t help the smile that spreads itself across his lips at your scattered mess of a brain. He reaches over, running his fingers through your hair. “Go to sleep,” He says instead, turning around to go into the kitchen, probably to get some medicine and some water for you for the morning after. 

“You smell amazing Yoongi,” You continue as if you hadn’t heard him at all. “Like, really good. Like a boy. Girls smell too soft and sweet most of the time, too floral, you know? But you smell sturdy. Sturdy and a little bit of pine. Outdoorsy. I didn’t know you went outside so much.” 

“Y/N, I say this for both my sanity and your own—but go to sleep,” He interjects just as he’s approaching you again to place the medicine and water on the coffee table. “Waking up might hurt like a bitch, you gotta just rest this off.” 

You laugh. “We should go outside more, like hiking or something. Or rock climbing. It could be a date!” You sit up, eyes widening. “We should go on a date, Yoongi.” 

“No, we shouldn’t.” The words, however, feel pathetic leaving his lips. It’s a very light-hearted retort on the subject matter. 

“Why? You don’t want to go on a date with me?” 

Yoongi rolls his eyes without contempt. “Shut up Y/N.” He turns to make his way down the hallway towards his bedroom, his mind set on adjusting his alarm to early morning so he could make you breakfast before you could wake up. 

You moan, still trapped in your spot on the couch. “Come over here and make me.” 

Yoongi freezes from his place in the hallway. Your voice seems to have lost its original innocent, light-hearted quality to it and is replaced with something darker, lower in pitch, husky along the edges, and his swallows. 

He turns around just in time to see you stagger your way back to your feet. Despite the swaying of your body, you look less drunk than you had been a few moments ago. Yoongi’s eyes roam quickly along your frame, taking in everything from the way you wear his sweater to the dark glint in your eyes, the red of your lips and the flush of your cheeks—you look so vulnerable and welcoming and warm and Yoongi would be lying to himself if he told himself he didn’t just want to take you and have you right there on the couch.

But the bigger part of him, the bigger part that loves you and is protective over you, who promises to himself that he would never let anything happen to you—wins. Of course it wins. Like he said, weak. You make him weak. 

He does manage a few steps towards you, reaching forward to grip your shoulders and setting you back on the couch. He kneels before you, leaning forward to kiss your temple, lips hovering your ear: “If you can say that to me while sober, we’ll talk.” 

You let out a sigh, leaning into him, and he can physically feel the air of liquid courage fading away from your body and being replaced with complete and utter exhaustion—at your ropes end, you are a sleepy drunk. 

He smiles against your skin, pulling away and readjusting you so that you laid horizontal on the couch. “Sweet dreams.” 

[themusingsofafangirl]

Tutor

Characters: V (DMC5) x Reader (Gender neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of drugs.

Word count: 1597 words. 

Credits: all gif belongs rightfully to the creator.

ModernAU. High school. 

V is assigned to mentor you by your teacher as you were falling behind in studies.

      It’s half past 2 in the afternoon and you were sitting in the detention room staring outside the window feeling dead bored. Failing in school was not really a problem you cared so much about at the moment because you had other pressing matters to deal every day you leave the school grounds like how to make money to pay the bills and put food on the table for you and your younger sister. But the sob story of your broken family background was now a thing of the past and all you care about is how to survive. No one knows you lived the way you do. You did not have close friends but you were not so lonely either in school. You stand on the fence of isolation and popularity, dancing on it carefully ensuring you do not fall on either side for the sake of your sanity and protection.

      “___” a voice calls your name.

       You look up and notice your classmate V was standing in front of you with a bag on his shoulder. You wear an expressionless façade, rendering a nonchalant vibe about the whole mentor-mentee attempt of the academia saving you from failing in school. The boy then takes a seat in front of you and starts pulling out books and stationeries. You noticed the fingerless gloves in his hands and realising that he always wears them no matter what outfit he wore. You heard from other students that he wore them due to an accident and he was trying to hide his scars. He also almost never wore any outfit that was short sleeved. Your curiousness also tells you otherwise because you noticed a few black lines traced up to his fingertips. He has a tattoo, I bet for sure. You thought.

      “We don’t have to do this, V” you said with arms crossed.

      V pauses from flipping the pages of the textbooks and stares at you. Suddenly he lets out a scoff, “Do you think, I wanted this as well?” he says.

      You grabbed your bag and stood up, “Well then we should just stop before we start and save ourselves time,” and turned to leave.

      “Wait.” V grabs your wrist to stop you.

       You look down at your hands and tried to pry them off from him, but he keeps them firm.

       “You and I are one and the same. We don’t want to be here but we have to. If it’s too much to ask, let’s just pretend to have you study. They’re watching me.” V explains.

       You scrutinised your eyes at first after hearing him say that. They’re watching me. What does he mean by that? You thought to yourself. You looked at V and noticed his eyes was signalling something; his eyes quickly looked to the right and you caught on. You looked to your right and noticed your homeroom teacher was watching you both from the door.

Yo, creepy much? You thought to yourself again.

      “Okay Mr. Poet. Let’s play pretend. With my conditions. Firstly, you’ll tutor me like how you should. But I’m not going to give a damn about a word you say. Agreed?” you proposed to him.

      He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “AND!” you suddenly interrupted,

      “You have to tell me, why is the academic board watching you.”

       His mouth hung open when he heard this proposal as his brows began to form a knot in between his forehead. “Fine, ____. So long I can save myself from trouble.”

      You both came to an agreement. The first lesson he tutored you was on World History. You let him rant on explaining to you about the Great Depression, and the Korean War while you were pretending to listen, you were doodling on your notebook and creating little sketches of things that comes to your mind randomly. Three weeks passed and V was still tutoring you. However, whenever the teachers from the Academic Board leaves the detention room both of you relaxed a little and drop the charade. During times like this, V and you would have a small chat on everything else except studies. You learnt a lot about him; his favourite music, season, his pet peeves and noticed that he was not too different than you at all. Though, one has been itching in your mind since the day he first tutored you,

They’re watching me

           “V, you haven’t told me yet.” You spoke up. Your friend stopped whistling Claire de Lune and looked at you confused.

            “Told you what?” he asked.

            “Why they watching you for?”

      He sat up straight and placed both his elbows on the table, his hands perched under his chin.

      “Yours truly, is on the verge of expulsion.” He sighs.

      “Expulsion? A kid like you? No way.” You replied.

      “Yes. Well, I was framed that’s all I know,”

       “Framed? By who?” you asked.

       “I don’t know, but I was framed for supplying ‘the good stuff’ in school.” He answered. “Only your homeroom teacher believed I didn’t do such a thing.”

      “Miss Fayeman?”

     “Yup. So, she gathered all the members of the Academic Board and told them that if I manage to tutor you to pass this term, then it proves that I’m no dealer.” He added on.

      You sat there confused and in disbelief that a man like him would do such a thing because based on your observation, you damn well knew that V would not go that low to do such a thing in school. He has his pride and his motivation to achieve and drugs were out of the question entirely.

      “And that is why ____, I need you to pass this term.” he says quietly.

      You felt guilty after hearing his plead; but you did not want to show him your emotions. You too had your pride and image to maintain so you just looked elsewhere instead of him.

      “I have to go,” you said. You packed all your things and rushed out immediately after that. You knew that you were the weakest in your class in terms of academics but you felt ashamed that someone else with other problems was dragged into yours just to help you clean up your act. You were out of mood the entire day, so much so that your sister left you a piece of Twinkie in front of your door. After going through some thinking, you decided that you wanted to help V clean his name. You still put up with the charade after school hours with him when he tutors you under the watchful eyes of the teachers, but when you got back home, you would recall all that he explained and revise them again in your room – the constant burning of the midnight oil even put a strain on your shoulders and back from slouching at the study table too long.

      Exam season came, and you were ready to ace everything. V doesn't say much on that day, but the look on his face somewhat shows that he did not expect too much from you. You still kept your act; pretending to be unbothered about studies. When the results came, your homeroom teacher called you and V into the office.

      “My, my.” Miss Fayeman says. “Looks like no one is getting expelled.”

       V and you shared the same expression of confusion.

      “Here, look for yourself.” Miss Fayeman added and pushed a slip of paper towards the both of you from across her table. You both scooted closer to the table and eyed the results carefully. Every single one of the subjects either had an A- or A on it and lastly the commentary from the Principal down below wrote,

Extraordinary improvement. Congratulations. Keep it up.

      When the both of you left Miss Fayeman’s office, you held onto your result sheet and bolted out of the school building leaving V behind. You did not know what to feel. You could not believe that you actually studied to save a friend of yours whom you suddenly had feelings for from expulsion.

       “___, wait!” he shouted and chased after you.

      You ran out of the school building and made your way to the football field. You climbed up the bleachers and just sat yourself there, gasping for air. Not knowing how to react to everything that just happened. V made his way to where you were too, panting for air in his frail looking body. The poet made his way up to where you sat and crashed on one of the seats beside you.

      “Jesus.” He exclaims. “What is wrong with you?”

       You were still panting, but a smile slowly grows on your face. You felt like you have won the lottery – but most importantly, you saved someone from being expelled.

      “V,” you said.

      “Yeah?” he answers still gasping for air and cooling down his pulse.

      “Would you come with me to homecoming?” you suddenly proposed.

      “W-wha-“

       “Homecoming, silly. I want you to be my date.” You said.

      “I- uh. Yeah sure,” he says wearing a look that leaves him so puzzled.

       “You and I are one and the same, indeed.” You added.

      You got up from the bleachers and wanted to walk away, but V stops you from doing so by holding your hand and turning you around to give you a kiss. This caught you by surprised but you guess that your feelings for him was valid and mutual. He lets go from the kiss, smiling as he says,

    “Joy is my name, - Sweet joy befall thee.”

     “Blake, oh, Blake,” you said and pulls him in for a kiss again.

[silverclawz]

Things to consider when writing for thin tall people:

- first up, the taller we are, the harder we fall. It is very true and very painful. And if we panic and flail, there is a greater chance of us bruising, straining, spraining, breaking, twisting, or dislocating something.

- as a tall thin person myself, let me tell you. The most dangerous thing to happen isnt gonna be a knife wound. Or even an abduction. Its gonna be waking up in the middle of the night, in a new place with small objects on the ground, and having to immediately sprint anywhere. See the blood rushes to our legs and feet and then we either pass out or just spasm cause the body don’t like having the red juice in the coconut.

- When we do bleed, its usually over pretty quickly, we clot very well. HOWEVER, because we have a lower body mass to size ratio, if we loose more than an 8th of our blood, we will pass out. (Based off mine and others like me’s experiences)

- we are the gentle giants. Will we help you reach the tall things? Yes, always. Will we help you fix the tall thing? Yes, always. Why? Cause every single tall person ive ever met has always had similarly happy memories of being smol child and being best hider and now that we’re all big, we can’t do that.

- as a thin person, there is nothing more annoying than the random bruises that we regularly discover on our legs and arms all the time, seemingly from no where. And i dont know if its just cause of how i was raised or what, but i somehow develop tons of bruises on my forearms and calves with no memory of anything ever hitting me there. Use it as you like.

- as a thin tall person, we get hungry a lot. Usually our metabolism doesn’t match our bone structure. So as such, we are always snacking. If we know we are going to be out and about, we bring the snacks and the water. So much water.

- speaking of water, we also get dehydrated a lot. So while one person may bring 1 or 2 bottles of water on a trip, we’ll be more than likely to bring 4 to even 6 or 7. We know, its always better to have too much than to not have enough. Dizzy spells and tallness do not mix well on any kind of forest path.

- did i mention how we are always flipping cold? Cause yeah we are. The blood has so far to go from the heart to the tips of our toes and fingers, that its really a miracle it gets their at the meager warmpth that it is. And since we’re also not carrying any extra insulation, we’re gonna wanna bundle up, Even in the warm days if we’re sitting in the shade for long.

- However, conversely, we also suffer from heat exertion and heat stroke a lot easier than those with a thicker build. Our bodies just dont have all the resources on hand or in storage to cope with the extra heat or cold. So dont be surprised that our packs always have a jacket and room to shed layers.

- please for the love of all that is holy and just, keep the smaller children away!! Anything below our belly button is in danger of being kicked or hip checked unkess we are paying extra careful attention to them. Which to be fair, we usually do, out of fear of hurting them, but still!

- and please, for our own sanity, dont let them pretend we’re a tree or something else to climb. We spook so easy and we don’t know what to do. Most times we just freeze and let them climb while internally freaking out and bordering on cardiac arrest levels of heart rates.

- speaking of heart rates, yeah, ours does naturally go that fast and hard. Please stop asking if we are okay, we are fine. This is normal. It just makes us suuuper tired. Its why we’re always down for naps and cuddles.

Basically, we are the giraffes you all know us to be, but we are so full of anxiety about everything, because we know that the only thing keeping our bodies from going nucleur and shutting down is us scrambling to maintain and keep up with all its many basic needs.

And lets face it. We’re humans. And we forget that stuff a lot. So if we seem kind of distant, don’t ask us if we’re okay, just hand us a water bottle or a snack bar and tell us to eat or drink. 99% of the time, we’ll do it just to be polite and make you feel better, which makes us feel better.