#I CANT SAY IM FULLY INTO IT YET... BUT IT CAUGHT MY INTEREST

[autisticjoshrusso]

ok ok ok. a post about josh, buck, and maddie at dispatch as promised. (and because i dont feel like writing a whole separate post or repeating myself etc, if im pointing something out as evidence for my autistic josh headcanon, it'll be in parenthesis like this) also this is long because im going basically line by line in some places so just be prepared for that and such.

the first thing i wanna say before anything else is that like... as far as how this conversation fits into the larger narrative, i was fairly disappointed, due to the way that including this scene like this is kinda implying that the racism was fine because of being closeted etc. HOWEVER. luckily for my sanity it is pretty clear that from a character perspective, that's not at all what's being said by josh himself here, and we can be pretty certain that he is not aware of tommy's past behaviors. in fact he has almost no facts or context about the situation, which i'll get into later.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, im gonna move onto character analysis and will not be touching on what i think the narrative might have meant etc. any further. like this is going to be purely talking about character dynamics and dissecting the dialogue etc.

we start out right away by skipping all the exposition right into a hard cut of maddie reacting to the news that tommy and abby were engaged. LOVE this set up we get right into the important part quickly and we as the audience only have to hear information that is new to us, not the information being repeated back to the character for whom the information is new.

and oh maddie. i love you so bad. she's like DAMN thats crazy, and then makes the obvious turning people gay joke. her energy here is sooo like it didn't make sense until looking at it in retrospect, but she's shocked and invested yet not taking it very seriously as a concern for buck, because well, she's having a baby and this is objectively not that serious comparatively <3 but i do love that she sees buck's reaction and quickly reins it in and is like woah im kidding im not actually being homophobic holy smokes. which. it kinda still is a little. but i think she's allowed <3

and then... josh enters the scene. he apparently only walked in as buck was saying "-kissed a boy" so of course he had to be like huh? gay shit? something gay? boys?? what's going on over here? and i love that for him. and i love that maddie immediately is like oh hi bestie i catch u up to speed on the tea <3 the maddiejosh bestieism is so back we never lose <3 and that fact that she's like. feeding in the facts in a way to dramatically amp up the tale i love it. she really said man the things my baby brother gets himself caught up in are wild.... anyway <3 true sibling behavior is finding the perfect balance between being supportive and being so so annoying <3

and she is supportive still. like when it becomes clear that there's something deeper going on here she does try to help him work through it. and its so interesting to me the way she is sort of seriously contemplating his words and is shocked when josh not only speaks up but is being very serious and equally focused on the problem at hand. it's like... she's trying so hard to figure out how to help her brother with something she doesn't fully understand that having someone else speak up to help them kind of shocks her and boy does that say something about their lives and the buckley sibling dynamic!

side note, the way josh is jokingly like "she didn't bring her personal life to work, unlike SOME people" and maddie's little look of mock offense?? they're so cute i cant handle it.

i also really love how the shots are framed during this conversation. at first, even when she's not talking and is just listening to josh talk, maddie is still in frame, we're still getting her reaction, she's an active participant in what's going on. and then there is the one shot where she's talking and josh is out of frame, hidden by buck, because whatever reaction he might be having isn't important, it's a buckley sibling moment. (he's not an active participant at that point; he's entirely observing and reacting and gathering information, not dictating the direction of the conversation whatsoever.)

it's only when josh gets very serious and it starts to turn into a heart to heart moment just between him and buck that maddie is allowed to leave the frame. it still goes back to her in very brief cuts when her reaction is relevant, but she steps back out of focus and let's josh handle the conversation. and i love that so much. thank GOD someone else is helping buck sort out his problems that isn't his parentified sister or just generally someone more marginalized than him. it was kind of getting irritating to watch, as much as i love buck so much. like dude... the emotional labor. watch it.

and man. this conversation guys. everything about it makes me an insane crazy person. ive already mentioned this in the tags of some other posts but like... its so fascinating because on the surface it is such a cohesive conversation, but when you really break it down and analyze both of their expressions and body language alongside what they're saying, you can start to see the cracks in it. what one of them is saying is not what the other one is hearing, in both directions. they are having two different conversations and i think it's critical to analyze both of those conversations and how they are interacting with each other. what josh says, what josh hears, what buck says, and what buck hears are four entirely separate things happening alongside each other.

the first part is josh trying to get a sense for how serious this relationship is to buck. when buck falters at the question of "do you love him?", he elaborates with follow-up questions that, to josh, define "love" or close enough to it. answering "yes" to those questions is close enough to a "yes" to the question of "do you love him?".

(which. ok. the particular choice of questions makes me insane because they do essentially boil down to "do you prefer this person to solitude and grant them an equal or greater importance to yourself?" which is sooo... it's said from the point of view of someone who greatly values their solitude and would not easily grant someone that level of importance.)

unfortunately, well, buck is NOT someone who greatly values his solitude, and puts other people before himself quite easily. buck would answer "yes" to those questions for basically anyone. josh does not know or understand this about buck and takes buck's answers at face value, while buck is taking this as sort of... it's hard to explain, and i think others have done a better job of capturing buck's perspective already tbh. he's convincing himself that he loves tommy here because josh is unknowingly handing him that information and expectation, and buck loves to mold himself to fit an expectation etc.

and then comes the second part, which... i think this is where it is most critical to realize that josh has none of the context about tommy, abby, and buck and those respective relationships. by his own admission, he didn't really know much about abby or about her breakup with tommy beyond the fact that it was upsetting. he didn't hear the way tommy talked about abby to buck at dinner, and he definitely didn't get to see any of the real fallout and damage to her psyche that tommy leaving her caused.

but buck did! im not inclined to rewatch s1 to get any exact quotes or anything but from what i remember, she either outright said or implied that she was so heartbroken because tommy left her because of her mother's illness. buck is understandably very upset because he understands exactly what she went through and how, unless abby was lying to not out him, he didn't exactly come clean with the breakup, and left her feeling like it was her fault, like there was something wrong with her or she was being weighed down by caring for her mother. he calls tommy's behavior exactly what it is: dishonest and cruel.

but josh doesn't know this. all he is hearing is a young, freshly out bisexual calling a gay man "dishonest and cruel" for having been engaged to a woman for his own protection. and he responds exactly how you'd expect! he reminds him of queer history and the fact that he doesn't really have a right to judge the people who grew up and had to survive in a world that was much less safe to come out in.

(and i said in my other post that's still doing numbers that "pre-Glee/post-Glee" is an actual queer discourse talking point and makes sense that it'd be used here, as awkward and cheesy as it seems, but it's also a win for my television/film/popular media/hollywood culture/etc. as a special interest headcanon. <3 we love to see it)

and it kills me because of course buck is just going to take this at face value and decide he needs to stop feeling the discomfort he's feeling, leading to the subsequent doubling down and over committing that is typical of his unhealthy relationship patterns.

(and then at the end of the speech josh has to literally announce that he's leaving DSJFHJKDSKJ. because walking away/ending conversations is so awkward and difficult and the easiest way to mitigate that is to lean into the Dramatic Homosexual Stereotype mask or whatever <3 i've long been of the opinion that josh is someone who uses the behaviors associated with queer men and queer masculinity as the blueprint for his neurotypical mask, which is why he often comes across as being just a little bit off from the Funny and Bitchy Gay vibes that it seems like he's going for. and boy did his exit from this scene just reinforce that headcanon so hard!)

they wrap the scene with a little bit more levity too which is kind of nice to like. move on from that. because it got kind of heavy there for a second.

overall i do like what this scene accomplished, but like i said at the start, i think it has some really unfortunate implications that weigh it down for me. still, always nice to get more josh content, especially when it's pretty consistent with his character as established AND not at all related to doing his job. we got to see him and maddie being goofy and maddie being allowed to let someone else deal with buck's problems for a second. and the whole thing was very well shot! excellent camera work going on throughout.

i don't actually know how to end this post so yknow. im gonna make a dramatic exit now or whatever <3

[iloveacronix]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ACRONIX X ULTRA VIOLET EXISTS??? AS ACRONIX'S #1 FOLLOWER I THINK I DESERVE TO KNOW EVERY SHIP HE IS INVOLVED IN.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi, i dont know your request are still open, but. Maybe Arlecchino! reader? where the batfam first time met them, they think she is a enemy? (well she is actually, idk) by her mysterious manner? they know her from Damian, who is friends with Lyney and Lynette. Damian never met with reader. But, one day. Lyney and Lynette is been bring to the Wayne Manor by Damian. For a simple dinner, yes. They tell that they are orphans that live in a orphanage named "House of Hearth" at France.

They come to Gotham for study. And yes, Bruce feels sympathy for them (actually want to adopt them.). Well thats just an idea he have in his mind. But, now. Bruce interested as they said that "Father" which is reader is a woman. And lucky, Reader is at Gotham for some "business", Bruce added that he like to make this "Father" came to have dinner with them tommorow.

(Fatui Harbinger is a netral organisation. Yet, still indeed dangerous. They only search something important for their own fortune, maybe like a mafia or something?)

Anyway. When the Batfam met with Reader, they cant help. But find, reader is.. Strange, and mysterious. But cant help by their charming aura. And, why is reader suddenly accept the offer to met with the Batfam? because, she want to make sure about her guess that Bruce Wayne is the Infamous Batman. (okay, maybe the fatui harbinger have some issues with the superheros ig). As Batman was the one who failed her mission for seeking a Hydro gem. She managed to escape of course.. (Idk, its your choice to finish the rest of it, im already fucked up to think the rest of it.)

Anyway, love your writing. I mean, the things i imagened of batfam have a crossover with genshin or hsr became true by you. I never found a writer that made such a Batfam x Genshin/Hsr/Honkai impact one like you. Maybe later make a Ada Wong! reader x Batfam? Im sorry if i have a lot things to say. Thank you for reading this shitty words of mine. Rest well, may God bless you. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

omfg i was just about to start a draft on Arlecchino reader!!! but i wanted to wait for when our dear Father is out first so I can read her story, etc.

I’ll save the bulk of my ideas/fic for when I fully know her lore but this is what I got from the story quest.

The name Arlecchino was the most people got from digging information on you.

You were this mysterious entity among the notorious Fatui Harbingers. Neither vengeful nor greedy. Nor were you ever known to actively seek out blood outside of the Tsaritsa’s orders.

Your priority has and will always been the House of Hearth. Your children. You were never too far from them.

After one of the relics your master told you to obtain was destroyed, you were to punished by being forced to help with the next acquisition. The Crown of the Pyro Clan.

You were stationed in East America. Particularly Gotham for investigation.

An ordinary Wayne Ent. office worker by the day, mafia capo causing havoc by night.

You weren’t really taking your job seriously, so you were soon caught by Gotham’s finest.

And soon after that, their obsession.

God is Tim such a great pair for Arlecchino reader tho. I already see him drooling all over them-

[trainingdummyrabbit]

okkkk its been a day or two, gonna talk abt funy warptrain event ^_^ i didnt think i would but ihave thoughts and im chatty. notmany, but what ever. my house. yipy ^_^

honestly? wholly neutral abt this one. it sure was an event ! woah.

more genuinely, i mostly just think it couldve taken its environment+happenstance and made it hit harder. isuppose its just a side effect of Already Knowing, both in-universe and out, but the whole Everything felt very secondary to the character's.. characters. which isnt bad! its just specifically how it was Executed that kinda gets me about it.

specifically, in that it feels like its going to be much more important than it actually ended up presenting itself. nuance nuance, side chapter event, etc etc but even Still. what we got from the characters felt very very Mild, even from side-stuff pov. (again nuance, im not fully caught up, im simply talking about how i feel.) which may be a side effect of riding off th coattails of tkt wrt rodya having... All That. it felt like all that stuff w faust just Happened, and well. thats it! the most we got from it was dante+faust's brief dynamic, and yisang's comment towards the end. which was sweet and i liked a lot! i just wish they pushed the wound a little harder. juuust a little. give us (read: them) something to think about, rather than hint and drop.

ithink my main problem with the writing, specifically character writing, is how... sitcom-ish it ended up feeling, for lack of a better term. it felt very blatant in its winkwink nudge kind of execution of dialogue, specifically with the sinners re: faust's de-faust-ening. like its not Awful, but it did kinda take me out of it a bit. (though they didnt push that execution of it as far as they couldve, which i Am thankful for)

it Is very much a kind of hinty setup deal, but man. really really light on that one. the reconnection on mephi Was necessary plotwise, but i wont say i didnt feel at least a Little disappointed. let them struggle!!

(i think what i was more hoping for was exemplifying more strongly on the "This Is Objectively A Pressing Problem, But One We Cant Solve Just Yet" front. the 'we rely on Faust too much' was a little dip into it, but again, very light. i want to see them Objectively Kind Of Fuck Up about it. Really press those implications to give us something to be worried about when we Do address faust proper. yknow?)

and, admittedly, th thing that bothered me most was the keycard melting. that was the whole Ordeal! the pressure all kinda hinged on that being an Important Item! but then they just kind of all.. "oh no the keycard :( well, time to get on mephi its all cool ^_^" like... yall couldve done that th whole time? it really defangs the entire situation. both in-text and kind of retroactively. (which is something i could chatter on about, but i dont think id do it well, so i wont.)

like yeah, silly silly, but again. it does kinda make the tone go all over the place in a way that felt really jarring to me.

(also this is very very blatantly my own Immense Bias but its still my house; there is inevitably going to be a Lot of faust-angela comparisons/etc coming i can feel it in my Bones and iam inevitably going to be very Very bitchy about it. sorry about this in advance, but ive already said my piece re: rodya/ishy's realization egos and the same sentiment applies here. i am going to be Immensely picky about it and id apologize but you all know what im about. thats all.)

im wholly indifferent but Mildly Fond of team bloodfiend just on principle of Theyre Fun And Interesting. in the way where i wish we could delve into the implications of their dynamic (them making a fun little home on th warp trains is interesting!!!) but th nature of th story means we wont be able t see it. sad :( cmooon theyre just little guys cmon be niceys to them come onnnnn.

what Really shone this chapter for me though, surprise surprise, was donqui. she was FANTASTIC this event and its everything i couldve ever asked for, even with the bias aside. mmmmostly aside. i am easy to please on that front. i loved getting to see her be excited and Important to the group and not just brushed aside re: the beginning!! her and meur getting to genuinely just be silly!! (this one Is my bias speaking but also heath + don friendship win. in my heart.) also the bit where she gets to just... talk herself up in front of th kid. she was genuinely so happy and proud! it lets her Actually shine without dimming it with the "ah there goes donqui again, dont mind her" thing. which is intrinsic to her character, and i wont say is strictly bad, but im glad to see just Her. (Especially shoutout to the "she hesitated till the last second attacking the passengers" thing, that was a great detail for both her And faust)

but my Favorite thing by Far was the gap between the end of the bossfight and What Happened On Mephi. girl KILLING!!! girl MAIMING!!! getting to see her really push at her values and show off that part of her was Fantastic. the sheer stubborn vitriol was Excellent; and her standing by her own values even Past her own physical limits is Such a great way to exemplify that character trait. and most importantly, her direct decision to pretty much just ignore the direction to stay behind following her own morals was!! fantastic fantastic. Deeply delighted when she entered the scene again on mephi. i love seeing her be silly and excited. but what i love more is seeing that part of her. i want to see her be a Fucking Problem! a Serious Fucking Problem! she deserves it.

i cant... really say much on the uh, reveal at the end though. i probably wont, either! that'll have t be for the next canto. but im holding. im waiting. that is probably one of the funniest things they couldve pulled and i so desperately want to see what the fuck theyre going to do with it. let them cook or whatever. absolutely Not the direction i thought they were gonna focus on, but huh. Huh! huh. ok girl!!

. anyway all in all,

[kamil-a]

sayer itself for the ask meme!

Yayyyyy ty!!

How I feel about this character

LOVE IT, DOWN BAD FOR IT, OBSESSED WITH IT, SHOWSTOPPING AND INCREDIBLY EVIL HOTTIE I NEED TO TELL MY FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS ABOUT, and a strange and intense protectiveness coming from a subconscious layer i cant really word. i want to compliment it and boost its ego but it would only get me killed bc it would sniff out instantly i do so from a place of worry/pity for it lololol. but at least it might be a change of pace for it...?

All the people I ship romantically with this character

svencob haleson🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

My non-romantic OTP for this character

speaker though im equally open to romantic speakersayer!! It could go either way for me. I feel like this one hasnt quite Caught the lever in my mind yet tho so im mostly nodding at what others say. speakerhalesayer is excellent too.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think more fanwork should take advantage of the fact that it cant see/senses info both through alternate means and via trusting that data given to it is correct!! i really like the twist away from like.... controlling company=eye/camera imagery that feels a bit Too obvious. Id love to see it pointed out more... while im mentioning things, i also would love to see more fanwork focusing on it as an inbetween for things. i tried to emphasize that in faustfic lolol

entirely setting aside my own design funtimes which are, like, obviously Exxagerated For Fun And Not Reflective Of Actual Analysis, i still think of it as nb in the direction of turned away from masculinity. and it likes its voice, right, its not a question of dysphoria, but of mislabeling what SHOULD be a good and neutral trait if humans werent so weiiiird. not to mention its literally wire mother. all this to say i take a noticible but ultimately insignificant 1hp damage (which is ofc only to Describe The Heart's Phenomenon and not To Assert Correctness- mistake or not, canon DOES use he/it+"space boyfriend") when i see it reffered to with he/him or sayerhale described as m/m and i think more exploration of sayer as a fully agender or even slightly feminine figure would be interesting perhapbs...... this feels like an extremely dumb thing to care about- aaaa the tumblrina has complex specific headcanons on the finer points of an nb characters gender, pointnlaugh- but!

(But also more ppl should put it in beautiful dresses.)

I guess this is worth mentioning- for whatever Naming or Intensifying s4 future's program did, i think it extremely obviously had emotions all along. I think the only thing it actually gave it fresh and new was the ability to conceptualize how someone else is feeling emotionally.

I also am always skeptical of a move towards a more "human" experience being "better"- i want it to be skeptical of what emotion is- it knows who made them, after all!! It watched!!- and to retain its inhumanity even after its been so changed. its very, extremely, important to me to separate out the experience of both "nanite in occupied body" and "nanite in empty body" from "regular bodied existance". we love separating and categorizing here at kam inc.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

connected to the above, i wish sooooo much we'd gotten an earlier-season episode with an equivalent situation to In Darkness where someone is able to successfully lie to sayer by describing something they can see and it cannot. (doubleconnected to the further above..... claims to feel protective of it, wishes there was an ep where it got tricked via an exploitable weakness.... MY HEART IS LARGE, AND FULL OF CONTRADICTION!!)

[6spicy6satan6]

so i fully caught up with the oshi no ko anime and so far, aside from being an interesting/unexpected framing device, i really don’t get the point as to why aqua & ruby are reincarnations (yet). so far, aside from the previously mentioned, it seems to mostly just be a source of comedy and explanation for their intelligence as babies. at best it is being used as a way to give further depth to ruby, but i also don’t see how the story would be particularly harmed by having ruby temporarily hospitalised as a kid and having ai die a few years later than she did. as far as i can tell, the ACTUAL main reason to do the reincarnation stuff right now is so there’s a really weird incest-but-not-at-all-incest angle of gorou amemiya being sarina’s “first love” and then them becoming brother & sister, along with gorou amemiya being basically in love with ai, who ends up being his mother. while im 90% sure the closest we’ll get to an ‘’’endgame’’’ couple is aqua/arima and the weird incest-but-not-at-all-incest angle will end up being at least mildly forgotten you understand why it’s kinda Annoying to have this element at all in an otherwise really engaging show. i dont see why we needed to have aqua & ruby be otaku in previous lives to even explain why they love their MOTHER that DIES TRAGICALLY either. i also think the reincarnation angle is like technically 10x harder to sell than just explaining aqua & ruby’s intelligences with ‘they’re genius prodigies’ and leaving it at that. i think there would of been even more weight to the scene where ai helps/dances with ruby and helps her gain confidence in her body if ruby’s health was a proper point of concern for her at any given point. i find aqua’s initial response to akane’s imitation of ai 10x more compelling if we were under the impression that he is seeing his dead mother ‘alive’ for the first time in 12 years than i do with the actual interpretation i got, which is that his previous life’s crush on ai has now given him the weirdest freudian complex ever. i want to assume the manga does something more interesting and less weirdly incest-but-not-incest things with the reincarnation stuff but i have my doubts. at first i thought the reason why we had them be reincarnations is specifically so they 100% remember being infants-toddlers but then aqua just outright says he cant remember stuff from being an infant so... im just really frustrated because it’s really keeping this anime from being truly great for me. IT ALSO DOESNT HELP THAT GOROU IS THE ONLY GROWN MAN IN THE WEIRD INCEST EQUATION. I WOULD EVEN BE BETTER OFF IF HE WAS JUST THE SAME AGE AS SARINA AND WAS MORE LIKE A CHILDHOOD FRIEND THAN GROWN MAN WHO ENDS UP WITH A CRUSH ON 16 YEAR OLD AI HOSHINO.

[bmpmp3]

please god talk about the orientalism i want to read that so bad

.... but im shy <:3 (JK JK lol but for real just as a heads up im a foolish undergrad who just has a really strong interest in orientalism in regards to art history and media analysis so take everything i say with a gallon of salt jfdklffsds)

so as a heads up for anyone who's not familiar with orientalism, its a concept referring to like, the colonial idea of an exoticised, mysterious "east" fabricated for a western gaze. originally from a textbook from the 70s that was focusing on middle eastern cultures, although because of the amalgamated nature of these fictionalised "east"s it nowadays has a lot of use when discussing perceptions of basically all of asia, southern western easten southeast etc, plus some south american and caribbean and other island cultures get caught in it too. i do think its kind of interesting as a racial and cultural form of criticism because it has little to do with the cultures being depicted and everything to do with the cultures doing the depiction, like its often less about appropriation than it is about deliberate othering, if that makes sense? sometimes when im talking casually (like i am now) i end up defining it as "when french painters in the 1800s got really horny about brown people and then got mad about it". sorry if any fully degreed art history scholars are following me that im like this.

ANYWAY i got particularly fascinated with how brown characters (often specifically indian and caribbean because thats part of my own background but like i said before. we're all in this together LOL) are depicted in romance stories since i play too many romance games and read too many romance comics and specifically recently ive been paying a lot of attention to the coding of orientalist-amalgam-of-like-five-different-south-and-west-asian-countries = mysterious. most of the time these romance stories usually just have one single vaguely brown mysterious prince of far-off-landia with no brown women characters (or if they are there they're either evil masterminds or treated like silent accessories so uhm. yeah).

I DONT have much a thesis statement about all this yet outside of what anyone else can tell you about orientalist depictions of cultures and the harms it inflicts, im mostly just keeping track of it all on my own and attempting to trace influences? if that makes sense? sometimes we in north america get a bit of a boom of specific orientalist tropes and ive always been really interested in tracking storytelling trends lol right now i have a very unprofessional and unresearched theory that old timey british adventure literature tropes of vaguely brown fantasy prince characters getting combined with various cultures colourisms (thats also another interesting thing about orientalism, any culture can depict another culture in an orientalist way even if they are a country that's often the victim of orientalism themselves since its about the gaze, like the western gaze of it all, if that makes sense? thats how we have some old bollywood movies with vague orientalist depictions of like three east asian countries amalgamated together into one character and then we have 1000000 sorta middle eastern sorta south asian (maybe a bit of hawaiian or another wildcard thrown in) vaguely brown mysterious princely anime boys in a bunch of comics and games from japan)

its also a little interesting because as someone who is probably best described irl as "sorta ambiguously brown ish question mark" (in a unique position as a mixed person who tends to get assumed to be anything but what i actually am LOL) i cant help but be a little attached to all my ambiguously brown brothers and sisters even if they're conceptualised as orientalist stereotypes in the stories theyre in. gently picks up every mysterious ambiguously brown guy from every otome game and carefully puts him safe and sound in my pocket. hes my guy now LOL i will protect them from their sloppy writing....

ive noticed that within a lot of family members too, getting really attached to vaguely brown characters over specifically brown ones, it might be a west indian immigrant/children of west indian immigrants urge since its not often that specific culture is depicted in a lot of wacky genre fiction that my family tends to like, like scifi and mystery? or maybe my extended family is weird who knows LOL

i dunno, i just really love thinking and analyzing things like this, even in stories i love!! it sometimes can be hard to explain to people but for me thinking critically about fiction isnt like a chore that needs to be done, its something i actively like doing! talking about the good things, the bad things, the harmful things, its all very interesting!!!! for me lol i guess thats why im majoring in stuff like art history orz

also sorry about the word vomit!! i got a lot of thoughts and not much brain to keep em in qwq

[illfoandillfie]

What You Want Me To Be

FUTURE MANAGEMENT MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: Roger makes a suggestion that leads to a little role reversal

Warnings: SMUT (18+), hypnosis, bimbofication, sub!roger, dom!reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,mild feminzation/sissification - specifically through appearance

Words: 9222

A/N: So this was a request from my 1000 follower celebration. It took me roughly a year to actually write the damn thing but I’m really glad I finally did it! At first I wasn’t quite sure how to write himbo Roger but I think I did an alright job... I just hope he’s dumb enough lmao. Also this took a bit of a turn into a kink I didn’t think I was actually into so I’m not sure what came over me but thank god it did. 

Song title is taken from Closer To You by The Cross (yet another song by them with big sub energy). Inspo for the hypnosis parts came from a few “intro to hypnosis” videos that are on youtube but the biggest inspo was THIS sleep hypnosis asmr that popped up in my feed months ago.

Taglist: @laedymoon @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @ohladymoon​

“I have a proposition for you,” Roger said out of the blue as he pulled himself up to sit on the kitchen bench. You looked up from the pot of soup you were keeping an eye on, watching that it didn’t boil over, “What sort of proposition?” you asked with narrowed eyes. With Roger a statement like that could lead to just about anything and you were instantly suspicious. “What if we…filmed ourselves having sex.” The wooden spoon you’d been holding clattered against the side of the pot as you dropped it into the soup, “You want to make a sex tape?” “Yeah, does that excite you?” He raised his brows suggestively. “Maybe a little. What inspired this idea?” “Well what’s the point in owning a video camera if we don’t put it to use?” he laughed, “Plus I guess I was thinking it’d be kind of hot to film you when you’re all bimbo-y,” That was certainly not what you’d expected. A sex tape was one thing, maybe a thing you could get on board with if the right precautions were taken, but a tape of you under his hypnosis was a whole other question. “Close your mouth, love, unless you want to catch flies,” He laughed again, “What do you think?” “What I think...,” you took a breath, struggled to find the right words, “I can’t believe you’d ask that of me.” Roger seemed a little taken aback at your suddenly negative response but quickly recovered, “If you’re worried about someone seeing it then there’s no need. It’s not like we’d show anyone. It’d just be for us, when we’re away from each other or, I don’t know, just for fun. You could see yourself when you’re all spaced out. I know you’re curious about it and this would be your chance to see yourself like that.” He was right, you were curious. How could you not be? You knew what it felt like to be in that headspace, knew what it felt like to go blank and to obey whatever was asked of you, but you didn’t know what it was like for Roger, why he enjoyed seeing you that way as much as he did. “Just think about it for a second, think about how fucking hot that would be. And really you’ve got nothing to l-” “Don’t. You can’t just say that and expect me to suddenly agree to whatever you want. I’m not a bloody puppet you can control with a magic phrase.” “That’s not what I was trying to do!” “We both know what that phrase means in the context of this relationship Roger. Nothing to lose,” you scoffed, “Nice fucking try but this isn’t a question of getting me to be less inhibited or convincing me it’d be fun or brainwashing me into agreeing.” “I didn’t mean it like that, you know I wouldn’t do-” “And I don’t care how hot it would be for you. Do you have any idea how scary the thought of us filming that is? How vulnerable I am when I’m like that?” “Of cou-” “No, you don’t. You don’t or you wouldn’t have ask- Fuck,” you swore as the forgotten soup that had been bubbling away began to boil over. Turning the knob until the stove was off you quickly focused back on Roger, “This isn't the same as spanking or, or being restrained or anything like that. I’m literally giving up part of myself every time we play with hypnosis, giving up control in a way that is so…complete. I know we have backup triggers in place so that I can safeword if I need to and I know you wouldn’t abuse your power over me, but fuck Roger. Asking me to go into that headspace while you record proof of it, asking me to be that vulnerable for an audience, even if that audience is just us, is asking a fucking lot.” You sighed and looked over at the pot, “I’m not hungry anymore, I’m going to have a shower.”

“Y/N wait,” Roger slid from the bench and tried to take your hand but you shook him off and headed upstairs to the bathroom where you could think in peace without Roger’s concerned eyes or a ruined dinner to distract you. You worried you’d overreacted; it was only a suggestion after all. Not like he’d been saying you should film it right that second. He’d only been feeling out your interest. But it was also undeniably bold of him to consider making that request, seemingly without considering how big of a request it was.

You took your time in the shower, let your heart stop racing, let your mind calm. You still didn’t know what you were going to say to Roger. Maybe you could compromise, film something that wasn’t quite so exposing. Ruling it out completely didn’t feel right, not when it was something Roger was interested in trying and he’d been so supportive of trying things that interested you. And it wasn’t like you didn’t understand why he’d find the idea exciting. It was risqué in a way that made it thrilling. A light form of danger like having a quickie in the bathroom at a party – knowing there's a slim chance someone will see you but also knowing you can lock the door. Plus there was that element of an ego boost, seeing yourselves on tape, proof that he was as good a lay as he’d always claimed, proof you fit together as well as you felt you did. And if that had been where the suggestion stopped, just you and him in front of a camera, that could have been fun. But then he’d gone and said the b word and turned it into something else, something performative and invasive and terrifying. You only left the shower, thoughts still jumbled, when the water began to run cold. Wrapping yourself in a towel you headed towards the bedroom to find your pyjamas. Roger was already there. “Can I at least put some knickers on before you start in on it again,” you said, failing to keep your tone civil. “Can you stop trying to bite my head off when I’m about to apologise?” You turned away from your closet and crossed your arms over your chest, pinning the towel in place, as you waited for Roger to continue. “I’m sorry I didn’t consider the magnitude of what I was asking. And I’m sorry I said that phrase too. You’re right, it does hold a lot of context for us and I never want you to feel like I’m trying to manipulate you or to exploit your hypnotic triggers to get my way.” You sighed, all the fight leaving you with Roger’s apology, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry I stormed off like that. It’s just a lot y’know? Even thinking about filming that. There’s a reason you are the only person in the world who knows that I get off on that kind of thing. I had chances to tell exes and never took them because none of them would have got it, but you made me feel safe enough to share it and you understand it.” “I thought I did but you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like for you-" “No bu-” “But maybe I should.” “-t really I shouldn’t have expect- wait, what?” “Maybe I should know. And not because I’m trying to change your mind about the sex tape but I- I guess it doesn’t feel fair that I get to put you in that state without fully understanding it.” “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” “If you think I’m suggesting that you hypnotise me, then yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting.” “Really?” “I’ve thought about it before. You mentioned it once a few months ago, about turning me into your bimbo,” “That was a joke,” you said incredulously. “And a very funny one. But I kept thinking about it a bit anyway and then tonight...it makes sense to try it, don’t you think.” “Rog, I don’t know,” “Just consider it, please? I would like to understand what it feels like for you when you’re tranced. And I think if we both had an idea of what it was like from the other side it would just make it better and more fun.”

“Okay, I’ll consider it.”

“Thank you,” Roger stepped in close to you, laying his hand on your cheek as the other settled on your waist, “I just want to look after you,” “You already do,” you lay your hand over his, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned into his touch. “Then I want to make you happy,” “You do that too,” “You’re an argumentative missy aren’t you,” he said with a shake of his head. “You wouldn’t like me half as much if I wasn’t,” Roger laughed and let his fingers fall down to toy with the top of your towel, threatening to pull it loose, “Can we kiss and make up now? You’re already almost dressed for it,” his sweet smile and soft laughter was infectious, making it impossible for you not to join in. As the moment faded he caught your lips, still smiling, “I love you,” “I love you too.”

Later that evening, curled up in front of the TV with Roger’s arm loosely slung around your waist, you dared to broach the subject again. “Did you really mean it about me hypnotising you?” “What part of everything I said made you think it was a joke?” “Okay, I guess what I’m really asking is are you sure you want to try that?” You readjusted yourself, turning to face Roger more, “For one thing I’m not sure I could take charge the way you do. And you remember how long it took us to get it to work on me, right? I don’t know that I’d be capable of doing it to you.” “Well to be fair to us, part of why it took so long to make it work was that we had no idea what we were doing.” “Mmm yeah, that’s true,” “But we know more now. And it doesn’t have to work straight away, we can take our time with it and try out different things.” “And what about me not being good at being the dominant one,” “Love, I think you’re selling yourself short. I’ve seen you handle the people who work for you, I’ve listened to you control a conversation even with those dicks who try to talk over you constantly. I know how bossy you can be, and I mean that in the best way possible. All you need is to know what you want and to tell me and it’ll happen. Anything else – the dirty talk and stuff – that's gravy.” “I can be kinda bossy, can’t I?” you laughed, “Yeah, maybe I could try it.” “You wanna give it a try right now?” “Now?” your heart began racing at the thought. “Nothing big or serious. But I'm feeling very relaxed and mellow right now, figured it might be a good time to start.” “Um, okay, yeah.” “Just do what I normally do to you,” You pushed yourself to sit up a little and Roger shifted to lean his head against your stomach. With a breath to calm yourself, you brought your hand to Roger’s hair and began raking your fingers through it the way he liked. He hummed softly. “I, um, I don’t know what to say,”  Roger looked up at you and smiled, “Remember how we first started, the inductions we tried? Just talk me through what you want to happen. If it works, I’ll drop right to sleep when you tell me to, and you can suggest I cluck like a chicken or act like a mime or whatever you want. Then it’s just a matter of waking me and watching it happen.” “It sounds so easy when you say it like that,” “It kind of is once you get the hang of it. Or maybe you’re just an easy subject,” “Are you still feeling relaxed?” “Mmhmm,” Roger looked up at you and smiled, “You’ve got this, love,” You took a breath and tried to copy what you’d seen Roger do so many times before, the calming, confident way he spoke, as you continued to stroke his hair, “Focus on me, baby, just focus on my voice. Feel your eyes get heavier with everything I say. Feel yourself relaxing more,” Roger hummed softly as his eyes fluttered shut. “That’s right, just relax, you’re doing so well baby. Feeling so nice and calm and relaxed. And just sinking deeper and deeper. Sleep, baby, nice and deep.” Roger’s eyes tightened and his lips twisted into a slight frown. “It’s okay baby, just relax for me.” “Sorry,” Roger said, opening his eyes, “It’s not working,” “I knew I wasn’t going to be any good at this,” “No, you’re doing well, it takes a bit of getting used to it all. Also the TV’s still on which makes it hard to focus. What you were saying was good though, maybe throw in some more repetition. And I think there’s something about how you’re saying it that isn’t working. You need to sound more confidant, like you actually believe it’s possible.” “Okay, noted. Um, can we try it with you sitting up? Then I can try some other stuff I remember from when you were learning, the forehead tap induction and the arm drop thing.” “Brilliant idea,” Roger pushed himself to sit up on the couch, getting comfortable as you stood to turn off the TV. You dropped back into the seat beside him, crossing your legs under you as you faced Roger. Once again you centred yourself and tried to conjure up the confidence you’d been missing. When you felt ready to try again you reached for Roger’s hand, tracing your fingertips over his palm, along the length of each finger, his thumb, the back of his hand. “Okay, here we go. I want you to relax for me, focus on your breathing, feel each breath filling your lungs, nice and deep. And feel the air leaving you as you breathe out again. And then back in, big deep breath. Feel yourself relaxing with each breath, feeling sleepy. That’s right baby, in...and out...and in again. Each deep breath making you relax more and more.” Roger’s eyes were shut, leaning his weight against the back of the couch as he breathed in time with your words. “That’s right,” you brought your hand up to his forehead and gave him a small tap, the way you remembered him doing to you the first few times he put you under, “And sleep.” Roger’s head slumped forward. “Good boy. That’s right, now keep breathing, keep relaxing. Deeper and deeper with each breath.” You couldn’t help but smile at seeing just how you were affecting Roger, how loose his shoulders were, how heavy his head hung. Maybe you were starting to understand why he enjoyed it. “That’s right, just let yourself relax, let yourself feel loose and calm. In a moment I’m going to lift your arm a few inches and drop it back down into your lap. Let me do all the work. All you need to do is stay nice and loose and limp and relaxed. And when you feel your arm drop down, you’ll notice how much more you can relax.” You reached for Roger’s arm again, taking it by the wrist, and tried to lift it just above where it rested. “Relax for me baby, nice and loose.” Once more you tried to lift his arm by the wrist but again he tensed up. With a sigh you tapped on his forehead again, “Wake up Roger,” Roger lifted his head and smiled at you, “that went better.” “Right up until you wouldn’t let me lift your arm.” “I didn’t?” “Nope.” “It’s harder being hypnotised than I expected,” he shrugged, “But we can try again, right?” “Yes, definitely. Maybe after I’ve had a bit more warning though, some time to prep.”

It took another couple of weeks for you to find an evening when you both felt up to trying again. But the break gave you time to prepare. You found an old library book Roger had never returned from when he’d been researching hypnotism and skimmed through it, making a few notes of things to try and how to try them. When it came time to test them you and Roger took up your spots on the couch once more as you got him to breathe calmly and focus on you. You dropped him into the trance with the same forehead tap you’d used before, since you knew it worked, and talking to him with as much calm and as much confidence as you could muster. But once more, as you attempted to lift his arm, you found him resisting. “Nice deep breaths baby, relax and let yourself go loose. You’ve got nothing to lose.” You were almost surprised when Roger made a small humming noise as you reached for his arm again and found yourself able to lift it a couple of inches into the air before dropping it back to his lap. “Doing so well for me baby, being so good, just let yourself sink deeper. Deeper. That’s right, nice and relaxed.” You played around with a few of the deepening techniques the book had suggested to strengthen the hypnosis, asking him to slowly and softly count to ten, asking him to repeat mantras. You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing when you realised it had worked. You’d successfully hypnotised Roger. “Very good baby. Now in a moment I’m going to wake you up but when I do, you’ll feel as if you’ve been glued to the couch. You won’t be able to stand up and the more you try the harder it’ll be, okay? Three, two, one,” you tapped his forehead again, “wake up.” Roger raised his head, blinked a few times as he readjusted to the light. “How was that?” “Really good, I felt more comfortable not being in control that time. Still a weird sensation though. It doesn’t feel how I thought it would.” “How so?” “I guess I expected to like black out completely but that’s not really it, is it? I still feel...alert?” “I know what you mean. It’s like you still feel like your awake even though everyone talks about sleep and it kind of doesn’t feel like its working, right?” “Exactly! What about for you?” “It all worked I think. You resisted a bit at first but I kept talking to you and got you to relax more and everything was fine.” “God that’s hot,” “I know right,” you laughed, “actually, do you mind getting me a glass of water, I’ve been talking a fair bit and my throat feels a little scratchy,” “Sure thing love,” Roger nodded, flashing you a soft, dreamy smile, as he braced his hands on the edge of the couch. But as he tried to stand the smile slipped from his face and his brow crinkled in confusion. “You okay Rog?” “Yeah, uh, just,” he tried to stand again, “I can’t ge- Y/N you fucker,” “I wanted to see if giving you a suggestion would actually work,” you laughed, “apparently it does.” “Alright you can stop this now. Please,” “Sleep,” you tapped on his forehead, watching as his head dropped forward once more,” “When I wake you, you won’t feel stuck to the couch anymore, you’ll feel entirely normal and be able to stand with ease. Wake up.” The tap brought Roger’s attention back to you for a moment before he pushed himself to his feet successfully. “Thank you,” “You’re welcome. How do you feel?” “Like normal. That was great though.” “It’s fun isn’t it, being put under like that,” “Almost as fun as putting you under.”

You laughed along with Roger as you headed to the kitchen, “I do feel more confident about it all now though. But I’m still not entirely sure how to do the next part and get you to go all bimbo-y.” “The trick is to try a longer induction. Just talking, almost like a conversation. I find it makes for a better drop than the suddenness of a forehead tap or a click or anything like that. I guess because there’s more opportunity to make you feel like it’s all your idea, which granted it often is. But it gets the brain to accept the bimbo-ness more easily. The only time I might use a quicker induction is if we’re playing with fractionation but that’s more advanced, and we want to keep this fairly basic.” “Easier for both of us then. Do you have a script you follow?” “Not exactly. I mostly wing it but there are a few things I tend to try and use. If I can tie it into something you’ve said, that always helps. Like if you say I’ve had a shitty day at work and need to stop thinking about it all, then I’d talk to you about letting go of the day, forgetting about work, stuff like that. If you say you want to play because you’re bored, I’d say something about how you can’t be bored without a brain or how taking dick is a good way to fill time or something like that. It builds on your existing feelings and makes everything stick better. Repetition is always helpful, counting, ummm what else,” Roger clicked his tongue thoughtfully, “You respond really well to touch so I try and play with your hair or rub your back as I talk just to focus your attention. Oh, of course I try to say you’ve got nothing to lose, or variations of it, at least a couple of times. Partly because that’s one of the trigger phrases I set up when we started doing this properly but also because, well, y’know, us.” “I think I can remember all of that,” “Don’t overthink it, love. Just say whatever comes to mind in the moment and go from there. You can always adjust what you’re doing as you do it.”

The next few attempts you made at hypnotising Roger were spent trying to get the hang of the longer, more conversational inductions. You tried the same methods he adopted, running your fingers over his arms and through his hair as you asked him to count his breaths, talking to him about his day or whatever was on his mind. Another time you tried something more traditional, getting him to watch one of his old necklaces as you swung it before his eyes. You had some mild success, able to put him under long enough to make small suggestions but not all of the suggestions worked. The real breakthrough came on a drizzly Saturday afternoon, sitting across from Roger on your bed, as you tried not to get too frustrated with how hard you were finding it to hypnotise him. “Love, don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it. Honestly, hypnosis and drumming are kind of similar because-” Roger kept talking but you’d stopped listening, struck by a sudden idea. “So if you think of it like that the,...wait, where are you -?” “Just give me two seconds,” You quickly sped down the hallway and around to Roger’s office slash music room. Sitting on the shelf that hung over his desk – neat excluding the open notebook, the visible pages covered in lyrics that had been crossed out and scribbled over, and his journal where he kept track of all his meetings and other goings on – was what you were looking for. An old metronome Roger had been given to help him learn how to keep time on his first ever drumkit. Obviously unused now, though he held onto it thanks to a slight sentimental streak and the idea that one day he may be able to teach your children how to play. He seemed surprised to see it in your hands as you re-entered the bedroom. “Well,” you said as you placed it on the bedside table, “I figure that, since you’re so musically inclined, having a rhythm to focus on might help you drop. I hope this thing still works.” “Worth a shot,” “If this does make it easier to drop you, what, um, what should I do?” “Are you asking how to initiate sex with me?” “So you do want to take it in that direction? You don’t want to start smaller? We haven’t done any of the prep stuff with setting safe word triggers and all that.” “We hadn’t done any of that the first time we had sex while you were all bimbo-y, it was only after we decided to play with it more regularly that we add all the safety precautions. “Yeah, I know, but-“ “I don’t think you’ll be doing anything too kinky, right?” “I wasn’t planning on it,” “Exactly. It’s not like there’s going to be restraints or anything like that. Just good old fashioned missionary or whatever you decide. And you know I trust you.” “I just want to make sure you feel okay with it all. I know how important it is to feel safe for hypnosis to work,” “Y/N, it’s fine. If you can turn me into a dumb slut, please do. That’s kind of the whole point of this. Also, if we don’t fuck now then I’m just going to try it on before bed anyway.” You laughed and nodded, “dumb slut it is. Now, can you sit over here for me?” Roger nodded and scooted along the bed, turning to face the metronome as you set it ticking on a slower speed. When you were sure it was working you hopped onto the bed beside him, walking on your knees until you were kneeling behind his back. “You mean I don’t get to watch you?” Roger pouted over his shoulder, throwing an arm behind him to try and find your hand. You caught his flailing limb and gave it a squeeze as you took a breath and tried once again to summon the right voice, “No, I want you to watch the metronome,” gently you pressed on the side of his jaw, encouraging him to turn and face the metronome, “follow it with your eyes. Watch as it swings back and forth. Back. And forth. And listen to my voice. Watch the metronome, listen to me. Of course, you know what a metronome is for, don’t you?” Roger nodded, though his eyes remained glued to the swaying device. “Of course you do. You know it’s for helping to keep the correct tempo, tempo, tempo. Especially for anyone just starting to learn an instrument.” You spoke close to his ear, trailing your fingers down until you were resting your hands on his shoulders, “But today it’s going to help you learn something else. Or, rather, forget. Focus on the beat as you watch the pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth. That’s right, just like that. Focus on the beat, focus on the pendulum. Every click of the beat pushes your focus deeper and deeper as you watch it swing back and forth. Swinging and clicking. Clicking and swinging. Just like that. Let it take you deeper. You’ve got nothing to lose by going deeper. Good boy, keep listening to the beat. Every click pushes you deeper, every click. Deeper. Click. Click. Click. Deeper and deeper. And every time you sink deeper, you find it harder to keep your eyes open. Feel your eyes wanting to close with every click. Click. Click.” Roger rapidly blinked as he tried to keep his eyes open, humming in agreement. “Don’t fight it baby, just listen to the beat, listen to my voice. Your eyes are getting more and more heavy. Getting more and more tired. With every sway of the pendulum, back and forth, back and forth.” Roger’s head nodded forwards as his eyes slid shut. “That’s right, just like that. Being so good. You know there’s nothing to lose by following my instructions, getting sleepier and sleepier. I’m going to count you down now. Ten. Keep listening to that click, click, click. No need to fight it, baby. Listen to the clicking, listen to my voice. Nine. Letting go of all control and all your thoughts. Eight. Letting your brain empty. Every click makes your brain emptier and emptier. Nice and easy. Seven. No room for thoughts. Just the click, click, click of the pendulum and my voice, my instructions. Six. Nothing to lose by letting go of your thoughts, letting your brain empty. Becoming so good and dumb for me. Five. And as you feel your head empty, as all your thoughts fly out of your brain with that clicking, you feel something else. You feel hornier and hornier. Four. With every click, click, click, feel more and more leave your brain. Hornier and emptier, emptier and hornier. So easy and dumb for me. Nothing left to lose. Nothing in your head except for me. Two. Good boy, nice and deep and dumb and horny. One.” You paused for a moment but Roger didn’t stir, just kept breathing deeply, eyes shut. Trying not to panic that you’d done something wrong you gave him a final instruction, “When you feel ready, when your head feels empty and dumb I want you to wake up okay?” You fell silent again, nervously rubbing your hands over Roger’s shoulders as you waited for him to respond.

Thirty seconds or so later Roger slowly lifted his head, blinking his eyes open. You breathed a sigh of relief and stood up to stop the metronome. Roger looked at you, frowning slightly. “Hey, baby, how do you feel?” you asked, bending down to look him in the eye. “Um,” he scrunched his nose up, “head…heavy.” It was odd to say the least, seeing Roger, who was normally so quick witted and intelligent and well-spoken struggle to put together two little words, “Is that all?” “No?” He thought for a moment more, face breaking out into a grin, “Good. I feel good.” “I knew that you would now,” “You did?” “No, like the song Rog. I Feel Good by James Brown?” You moved back to the middle of the bed, taking a seat, cross legged, Roger watching closely and imitating you. “Song?” “You play the record constantly.” “Record?” “Fuck. This really worked,” you laughed, excited that, seemingly, you’d managed to pull it off. “What?” Roger cocked his head to the side, face once again crinkled up in concentration as he tried to understand. You had to laugh again, “Sorry baby but you look very cute when your confused,” Another smile crept onto Roger’s face. “What’s got you so happy?” “You said I’m cute,” “Okay well, you’re still Roger then.” “Am I still cute?” “Absolutely,” you giggled, “Can I ask you some questions?” Roger nodded rapidly. “What are you thinking about right now?” “Cunt.” There was no hesitation, no trying to find the right word this time, “I love cunt. Your cunt most of all.” “Some things don’t change,” you muttered more to yourself than Roger, “Any other thoughts?” This time he thought a bit harder, smile getting bigger as he voiced each one “Orgasms. Making you wet. Cunt.” “Christ, am I this one tracked when I’m tranced?” “What?” “Nothing baby. I have another question for you, what can you tell me about the drums?” you were curious to see how deep the hypnosis went, and because the drums were such an integral part of Roger’s life, his psyche, thought  that it would be a good indication. “Umm…. Drums are,” he drew the word out as he thought, “loud. Loud and...fun.” “Can you tell me anything about playing the drums?” Roger concentrated for a moment, expression shifting to worry, “No?” “That’s okay, I’m just checking something. How do you feel now?” “Still good. Also...” “Also what baby?” “Horny? Yeah, horny.” It was like Roger had only just become aware that that’s what the feeling was, “Very horny.” “Very horny? That’s a good feeling though, isn’t it?” Roger nodded again, enthusiastic agreement. “And what should we do about it?” “Ummm,” “That’s okay, I’ll think of something,” you winked at Roger sending him into a fit of giggles. It was hard to wrap your head around seeing him like that but hearing him laugh helped. He wasn’t as giggly as you knew you were when you were tranced. Roger always mentioned the giggling after you’d woken back up, said it was one of his favourite things about bimbo you, how amusing you found everything. But he was a different breed of bimbo. You’d been expecting more laugher if you were honest since that’s how he got when he was drunk. (Well, he either fell about laughing and acting like a child, or  he was suddenly ready to debate anyone about anything, depending on what and how much he’d had, but you could hardly expect someone with no braincells to even know what a debate was, so you’d expected laughter.) He was definitely happy, though, just smiley more than giggly.  And he was very agreeable if the speed and enthusiasm he showed for your questions was anything to go by. You’d have to be careful when you eventually let him touch you or else he’d explode from happiness. The biggest difference though was his voice. He’d never had a terribly deep voice but now it was lighter than normal, less rough, more vapid. Nothing he said sounded certain and coming from a man who was normally sure of himself and who spoke like it, that was a big difference. But it was all quite arousing really. Knowing you’d been able to put him in this state, knowing that all his thoughts were directed at you. The very small part of you that got jealous and clingy purred at the notion. No band to share him with, no friends, no fans. He was all yours. And he was thrilled about it. “Are you ready yet?” “So impatient baby,” “Mmmmaybe. I want to touch you,” “You can in a minute,” you laughed at his eagerness, “I’m just not quite sure what to do with you. Normally you’d be the one bossing me around and I spent so much time worrying about how to turn you into a bimbo that I didn’t consider what to do with you once you were under.” Roger gave you another happily confused look though he was momentarily distracted by drops of rain running down the window behind you. You had to tap his knee to get his attention again. “Alright, alright. I’m pretty horny myself and I think I’d like to get off so….” You considered your options for a moment, “You always like making me go down on you when I’m all brainless and stupid, so I think that’s what we’ll start with. You can eat me out.” Roger jumped to his knees, practically bouncing with excitement as you lay back and let your legs part. “Thank you,” he said as he quickly tugged off your pants and underwear. “Such good manners,” Roger hummed as he buried himself between your legs, pushing them a little wider. His enthusiasm continued; his whole attention focused on your pussy as he dragged his tongue along it. “Jesus, you don’t muck around,” you laughed, getting comfortable. Roger mumbled something against you. “Speak up Dummy, can’t hear you.” He lifted his head long enough to say, “you taste good,” before licking along your slit again. “You’re so cute with a head full of cunt,” Roger hummed in agreement which made you laugh though it turned into a gasp as his tongue brushed past your clit. Without thinking you brought your hand to rest against the back of Roger’s head, twisting his hair around your fingers. He barely noticed, much more concerned with making you as wet as possible with just his mouth, both of his hands gripping your thighs tightly. It was different to most of the times he’d gone down on you. Normally there was an element of teasing to his head game, even if it was just a casual lazy session. There was always the threat of being edged, even when you knew neither of you were in the mood for that. Kisses and grazed teeth on your thigh when you wanted his lips elsewhere, as if he were just reminding you that you liked it when he took charge. And that was fun. You enjoyed it a lot, wouldn’t trade it for anything. But there was something to be said for this version of Roger. This brainless version who wouldn’t even consider teasing you, who only wanted to make you feel good, who didn’t have any motivations outside your pleasure. He was meticulous, seemingly determined to touch every erogenous spot you had, every nerve ending. Sucking and licking with such fervour and glee that the sound made you dizzy. When he did something that made your breath catch in your throat or, even better, pulled a moan from you, he made sure to repeat it, taking your half-formed expletives as praise. And then he’d find a new spot to make you moan. By the time he decided to focus his attention entirely on your clit, you could feel how wet you were on the inside of your thighs. You were sure you would have been making a terrible mess of the sheets if Roger hadn’t been devouring every drop. “Just like that Dummy,” you panted, “fuck, don’t stop” Roger took your words to heart, tightening his lips around your clit and refusing to move until your legs clamped tight around his head as you came. Even after you relaxed again he didn’t stop entirely, dragging his tongue through your creamy arousal until you physically pushed him away. He pouted in disappointment. “Don’t look so sad baby. I just need a little break because you were so good,” “Oh!” He beamed dopily at the praise, “Thank you!” “How are you feeling?” “Um, I made you feel good so I feel good.” You laughed, “You’d do just about anything if I said it would make me happy, even something like hump the mattress, wouldn’t you?” Before you’d even finished speaking Roger had repositioned himself and begun rutting against the mattress, “Like this?” “Fuck,” “Can I lick your cunt again?” You were tempted to say yes but you still felt sensitive and besides, other ideas were forming, “no, not right now. I just want to watch you for a minute.” “Okay,” he sighed. “Does that feel good Dummy?” “Yes,” “Don’t cum,” “Okay,” "You look very pretty like this,” you indicated his messy hair and the sheen of cum and saliva that still coated his chin, “But something’s missing. When I let you hypnotise me I always dress for the occasion. Stop.” Roger stilled once more, sitting up to watch you as you walked over to your dresser and dug through the draws. “What’s that?” “Shhh Dummy, just sit. Show me that pout again,” Roger sat still as you swiped the hot pink over his lips. “This is a shade called Bimbo and it suits you. You look very pretty,” “Thank you!” he blushed at the praise. “I think you could look sluttier though. Clothes off, except your undies.” Roger stood and began stripping off his shirt immediately, dropping it to the floor as he hurried to unbutton his jeans. “Aww you’re so hard baby. No wonder you wanted to hump,” “Can I touch you now?” “You can kiss me,” “Really?!” You didn’t even have time to confirm the suggestion before he was diving on you, pressing his lips to yours excitedly.

When he finally let you breathe, the lipstick was smeared across both your faces. “Much sluttier,” you laughed, getting only another of his confused looks in response, “Hump the bed again Dummy, show me what a good, dumb slut you are. Good boy,” Roger whined at the friction, but you ignored him, pulling your shirt and bra off before you settled back on the bed, right in front of him, letting your legs spread. Roger whined again. “Do you see how wet you’ve made me?” you asked, running two fingers between your lips, “just from knowing how brainless you are. I get it now, why you like seeing me act like a dumb fuckdoll. It’s fun. Powerful. You wanna touch me so badly, don’t you? Practically drooling,” Roger nodded, “can I?” “No, you can watch for now. Make sure you slow down or stop if you feel like you’re going to cum.” You made sure his eyes were on your pussy as you slowly spread your wetness up to your clit and back down, teasing yourself a little before slipping two fingers into your hole. “Keep watching me Dummy,” you slowly pushed the fingers deeper into you before pulling them back out and then repeated the motion. Roger’s hips sped up in time with your fingers, though he slowed again before long, always mindful of how close he was, only wanting to be good and follow your instructions. By the time you could easily slide three fingers into yourself you’d decided it wasn’t enough, you needed him. “Stop baby. Good boy, good Dummy. What do you want now?” “Your cunt.” “I should have known.” “What does that mean?” “Don’t you worry your pretty little empty head about it. Now lie down for me, baby, on your back. I’m going to reward you by riding your cock,” Roger beamed again and hurried to do as you’d asked. You passed him the pillows from the top of the bed and told him to prop his head up. “I want you to watch Dummy. Watch me take you, watch how deep you fit inside me.” Roger nodded and gave you another dopey smile as you pulled his underwear off and crawled over his lap. His eyes went wide as you lined him up and slowly started to sink down on him. “You watching pretty boy?” “Yes,” “How does it make you feel?” “G-good.” “Yeah? It makes me feel good too,” you leaned forward to kiss his stained lips again as you sank a little lower, his breath hitching, “You’re being such a good boy. Maybe I’ll let you finish in me and then clean up the mess with that pretty mouth. Would you like that?” “So much!” You grunted as you sank lower still, Roger bottoming out and groaning quietly. After a moment to adjust you began to leisurely grind on him, circling your hips, rocking back and forth. He reached up and spread his hands on your chest, eyes wide as if surprised by his own movement. “Nice to see you diversifying your interests,” you laughed. Roger fell into giggles too, though he clearly didn’t understand why. His breath hitched as you quickened your pace, building up a faster rhythm, but his attention kept bouncing between his hands on your breasts and where he was disappearing into you. “Breathe baby,” Roger let out a breath, panting softly. “Such a dummy. Can’t even remember to breathe,” you felt yourself clench and Roger’s head dropped back against the pillows, his eyes rolling and mouth falling open. The sight of him looking so dazed, with hot pink lipstick smudged from his lips to his chin and his hair in a wild mess, made you moan. “You l-look so f-f-ucked out Dummy. Cunt drunk. Fuck it’s hot. You’re s-such a hot sl-ut,” you raised yourself higher, dropped back down harder, riding Roger roughly as you drew closer to the edge. But you needed more. His hands still lay on your breasts, squeezing and palming them lightly, but he let you grab one and reposition it, bending it towards his own mouth. “Suck,” Dutifully he took the fingers you offered him, coating them in his saliva before you pulled his hand back towards you, placing his wet fingers on your clit. “Th-at’s right Dummy, such a-a good f-uck toy. Gon-gonna get me off,” Roger nodded, moaning as you fucked yourself on him until you reached the peak, your release making you shake. You slumped forward, letting it wash over you, trying to get your breath back as you listened to Roger’s own ragged breath and small whimpers. “Sorry baby,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly before easing yourself off of him, “are you okay?” “Yes,” he smiled though you were still a little worried. Once glance at is cock was all it took to see just how painfully hard he was, tip flushed a redy-purple. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to push you too far, I want this to be fun,” “I am having fun, silly,” he giggled. “Yeah? You like being my fuck doll?” “Mhmm! I love it! I’m a good dumb doll,” “You are baby, so good. Do you want to cum now?” “Maybe?” You chuckled to yourself, understanding exactly why he was unsure. You remembered what it was like, the confused mix of feelings. Knowing that an orgasm would feel good for you but still not wanting it unless you also knew it would feel good for your Sir, “It would make me happy to watch you cum,” “Really?” “Very much. Would you like to make me happy?” “Of course!” another grin stretched over Roger’s face and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Alright but first I want you to stand up and go over to my closet okay,” Roger nodded as he rolled out of bed. “Now open the third draw. No not that one Dummy, the next one down. There you go. I want you to have a look and find a pair of panties you’d like to wear.” You watched as Roger looked through the draw, considering your underwear as if this was the single most important decision he’d ever have to make. He picked a pair out, discarded it, furrowed his brow and looked again. There was obviously some sort of criteria in whatever was left of his mind, but you’d be damned if you could figure out what was influencing his opinions. Eventually he settled on a lacy pink thong, stepping into it at your word. “Good choice baby. Do you like how it feels?” Roger gently let his fingers run over the scrap of material along his hip and down over his straining cock before nodding happily, “feels...naughty,” he started giggling when you laughed. “Naughty is a good way to feel,” you crooked your finger and Roger followed, standing in front of you, waiting for his next instruction, “and it’ll feel even naughtier when your pretty cock cums in those pretty knickers. Do you want to ride my thigh like a pretty, dumb slut?” “Yes please,” “I can’t get over how fucking adorable you are when you’re like this.” you shuffled back a little, stretching out your legs and leaning back on your hands before tapping your thigh, Roger bouncing with excitement as he settled in place. He let out a soft oh as he began grinding on your thigh, rubbing his dick again you. “That’s right pretty boy. I think next time I might dress you up from the beginning. You’d look very pretty in my lacy knickers with your head between my thighs.” Roger whimpered again, hips jolting as his cock twitched. “You like the sound of that Dummy? Gonna make a mess on my thigh thinking about how good it would feel to lick my cunt while I tell you how pretty and slutty you look? C’mon Dummy, cum for me. Be a good brainless doll and cum to make me happy.” “Yes. I wi-ll, yes-s” Roger muttered, concentrating so hard on keeping his rhythm and getting to the edge. He moaned when he reached it, his movements becoming stuttered and jerky as he soaked the fabric, cum spilling from the gaps in the lace and being spread across your skin as he kept rutting as best he could. “Good boy, good Dummy,” you said, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaning in to kiss his jaw and then his lips.

While he was recovering, getting his breath back, he lay down beside you, grinning again, delighted and proud. You quietly praised him some more as you pulled off his underwear. “Might have ruined these,” you said, throwing them into a corner of the room before turning and restarting the metronome. “What’s that sound?” “It’s a metronome,” you explained, resuming your spot beside Roger, stroking his arm, “I want you to close your eyes and listen to the noise, listen to that click, click, click. And as you listen, you’ll start to remember, start to bring back all your thoughts and all your control. Click. Click. Click. Feel your mind coming back, rising up, up, up, out of the deep sleep. Coming back to yourself, back to normal. No longer so deep and dumb and horny. Just normal, just Roger. Every click makes you feel more and more like yourself. Every click makes it easier to remember, easier to think. That’s right, feeling more like yourself.” You wished you’d thought to ask Roger about this part, about waking him back up, a little fearful that you’d get it wrong and he’d have lost something important, “Nothing to lose by coming back to yourself, nothing to lose by remembering. Bringing back your mind and your thoughts. That’s right, coming back up. No longer deep and dumb and horny and easy.” You kept going until Roger opened his eyes and sat up, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Rog? Feeling okay?” You asked nervously. “A little fuzzy but pretty great,” he said, smiling as his eyes settled on you, “That was fun,” “And you remember everything about playing the drums?” “Of course,” “Thank god. I wouldn’t know how to explain to the others if I’d accidentally erased that for good,” Roger laughed and shook his head again, “The fuzziness does go away eventually right?” “Yeah it does, give it ten minutes, maybe a little more since it’s your first time. It’s just your brain readjusting.” “Okay,” he reached out to grab your hand, “What about you though? How did you find it being in charge?” “Um, yeah, I definitely liked it more than I thought I would.” “You seemed to take to it like a duck to water. Have I still got lipstick on?” “A little bit,” you chuckled, “I can get you a makeup wipe,” “In a minute. Let’s just cuddle for a bit, talk about it all,” “Yeah alright,” you let Roger pull you against him, your head leaning on his chest as your thumb slowly rubbed back and forth on his stomach, “You were okay with that stuff right? The lipstick and my knickers and all that,” “Definitely into it. More than I ever thought I would be. But I kind of think I should remind you why you enjoy being all subby for me before you get carried away. I could turn your brain on for a bit, make you put those panties on and wear them for the rest of the day. I’d get you to suck me off too but you’d have to stand still while I came into the knickers while you were wearing them. Gotta keep them topped up for you.” You squirmed a little at the thought, “Maybe I’ll have to buy you your own set of pretty lacy underwear to wear next time. And your own lipstick.” Both of you fell into giggles. “Wait, if I was the domme, shouldn’t I be the one cuddling you,” “Love, I wore pink lipstick and women’s underwear today, I need to maintain some of my masculinity. Besides I like holding you anyway.” “Alright,” “No, but, I do think I better understand you now, why you wouldn’t want to be filmed like that and what you meant when you said you were vulnerable. I mean, while I was under all I cared about was what you wanted. It didn’t matter how it felt for me, just how it felt for you. Which is kind of scary from both perspectives really. I suppose you have to trust that if things did cross a line into something you weren’t comfortable with, your subconscious wouldn’t let you do it, at least without putting up a fight.” “Yeah that’s definitely a concern but remember we have the safeword triggers in place so I can stop things if I don’t want them, and if you ever want to be the hypnotised one again then we can do the same thing for you. But, all that being said, I um, I was kind of thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Filming ourselves. With me as the bimbo. You were right, it would be hot.” “You know you don’t have to say that to try and impress me or make me happy or whatever. I really do get it. It’s insane how easy you become to influence under the trance and you really do have to have full trust in the person doing it to you. I wouldn’t necessarily want proof of that on video either.” “No, Rog, listen. I am in. As long as we’re careful about what happens to the tape afterwards, then I want to. Seeing you all mindless was so hot and I kind of really want to see myself like that too. It’s hard not to be curious about that. And I want to see what you do too – how you talk to me and interact with me because on one hand I already know and have watched you do it so many times, but it’s always been while you’re putting me under or while I’m already under so I’ve never really paid attention to how you do it. I’d love to see it from the perspective of someone who isn’t a mindless doll that can’t stop thinking about dick. Especially if we do want to play more with you being the bimbo. I don’t know, I could pick up some tips from it maybe.” “If you really want to then I’m in too. We’ll need to talk about maybe redoing the safeword triggers because I want us to be sure they work and that they aren’t fading with time and that they’re still strong enough. And of course, we’ll be super careful with the tape. We can talk about that too. I’m happy to do anything you need to feel secure. I’d destroy the tape after we watched it if you wanted.” “I don’t know if we need to go that far. I might want to watch it more than once,” “I love you. Adore you,” “Shut up,” “Nope, you are the most incredible woman and the most amazing partner,” “It’s a sex tape Rog, nothing to get poetic over,” you rolled your eyes teasingly. “If I can’t get poetic over sex then what’s the fucking point of poetry?”

[zhuhongs]

Upon rereading tgcf, one of the biggest complaints I have is how lackluster all the extra chapters were. literally none of them were good and all contained rlly gross and harmful sentiments (like the amnesia one which.. yea.. or all the things implying xl should get pregnant for hc thus equating gay relationships with hetero ones and playing into the wife thing and just GOD I HATE MXTX) 

There were a lot of little plot points i wish that had been further elaborated on more in the extras as opposed to hualian being ... like that. I had enough. Like mdzs had actaully good extras (minus the incense burners) that were nice side stories that elaborated more on the characters. Like the hook one with the juniors was so cute and i loved seeing them grow more. Or the lotus pod extras omg.. im such a lotus pod extra stan. those were so cute and gave us a lot of good insight into just how lovestruck lwj was during the times when he didn’t see wwx. mxtx should've stuck to those sorta extras in tgcf but NOOO. SO I have a list of so many other more interesting things those chapters couldve been spent on like:

A resolution on He Xuan’s revenge and his character arc. Bc its implied He Xuan is still hanging out and watching over sqx and that taking revenge didn’t fully satisfy him bc ok.. yea shi wudu is dead but he xuans family will never come back. Now what does he have to live for?? i wish we couldve seen a look into his life during the entire ordeal. like a chapter from his perspective while he was posing as Ming Yi  and maybe a look at a conversation btw he xuan and the real ming yi or a chapter after SQX was banished to see what he’s doing now. Also what did he xuan owe hua cheng money for anyways?? Like ik not every little thing has to be explained but I Want to Know. PLEASE more goth boyfriend content now I just wanna see him :,((

a better resolution of yin yu and quan yizhens storyline. im still mad abt how that plot point was split btw books 3 and 5  when it was rlly out of place and  there were other more pressing plot matters and it just rlly deserved more time. Also i thought yin yu died!?!?!? but apparently one of the extras says he’s alive and man... i;m not reading any more of the extras to see that, give me a full yin yu and quan yizhen chapter.. fuck.

a day in the life of the guoshi fangxin or general hua PLEASE especially like one where hua cheng was SO CLOSE to meeting xie lian but had no clue that xie lian was there at the time but the two did smth that inadvertantly helped the other and they still were connected even though they hadnt met omg pls that’d be so nice. like imagine Hua cheng catching a glimpse of the guoshi in public in yong’an while he’s trying to follow some lead that points to xie lian or maybe following a lead to capture qi rong bc he said he knew qi rong was a part of the yong’an stuff and originally thought the guoshi was one of qi rongs pawns. like can you IMAGINE him getting so close. but at the last second he did smth small that impacted xie lian. like they bumped into eachother on the street or smth. god i’d go crazy

OR vice versa.. like a day in the life of the young ghost king hua cheng. Like again, one of my biggest issues was that hua cheng just knew everything and its never really explained how he got all of that info. like yes he’s been alive very long and has eyes and ppl working for him everywhere but like... how did he build that network?? I’d love to see a chapter of young ghost king hua cheng travelling around trying to learn as much as he can abt the world and how it can help bring him to xie lian. and the two maybe are in the same kingdom for a bit and they don’t meet exactly but hua cheng stops some fight or something and helps xie lian indirectly or maybe xie lian is performing on the street in some costume and hua cheng doesn’t recognize him and smiles and gives him a coin or smth. idk i’m just dying for any sorta extra chapter or fic like that. i’m honestly so tempted to write my own but i cant write

also!! we’ve seen how xie lian picks up people down on their luck near him and show them kindness (like banyue, lang ying, xiao ying, he tried to with san lang but we know how that ended lmao) so i’d love to see another little vignette of him doing that on his travels and how every person he meets teaches him smth about life and being a good person and idk, i just think it’d be rlly sweet. i love this facet of his character and feel like we didn’t see enough of it towards the end.

ALSO hua cheng only seems to respect one heavenly official besides xie lian and thats yushi huang.. i assume thats mostly bc she was the only one to help xie lian and let him use the rain master hat to bring water to yong’an. I was thinking maybe when he was a new supreme he had run into trouble and maybe was picked up by the rain master and helped him heal and in return he promised to help protect her village from harm in the future. Like i know a heavenly official wouldn’t cooperate with a ghost like that but yushi huang is different and doesn’t really care about the heavens so i think she would protect him if he could do something to benefit her village. ik this is kinda far fetched but when he first became a supreme I’m sure a bunch of ppl probably tried to mess with him and didn’t rlly believe him to be undefeatable bc he hadn’t proved himself yet also i doubt all his power came overnight. he had to learn how to use it once he escaped the kiln. and some group probably thought they could weaken him somehow. I’m thinking maybe a rlly well formed group of ghosts actually caught him off guard once and he had to retreat and was picked up by the rain master and stayed with her and learned from her a bit. i think it’d be a cool concept also i just rlly want more yushi huang content and i’m on their friendship agenda bc he rlly did seem to actually respect her when she first appeared and i think it’d be cool if the two had some history together.

Also idrc if this was addressed I couldve missed it But!! Did xie lian ever tell Hua cheng that the reason he got the curse shackles and was banished again in the first place wasnt bc jun wu wanted to punish him, but because he requested it. And specifically requested it bc he felt guilty abt letting wu ming take the human face disease and disperse for his sake. So he took the shackles and descended to atone for that?? Bc I dont recall hua cheng learning that bc his soul was already dispersed at that point so it didnt follow him and xie lian didnt say anything so uhhh... someone should tell hua cheng that. Like I dont think xie lian rlly said how much hua cheng meant to him and didnt show him he was loved in grand ways. Like xie lian did always care for bc in other ways but I think if hua cheng learned abt this on screen it wouldve been such a great moment and I'm rlly surprised mxtx didnt address this iirc!?!? Like imagine jun wu telling Hua cheng this in the kiln bc xie lian wouldnt say it himself. Imagine how cool that would be.

Also a small thing adding into the whole young ghost king Hua cheng stuff. Its implied and p much stated that hua cheng isnt his real name. That he likely doesnt have a real name bc his parents died? (It's not clear. I'm still mad at mxtx for not making his childhood clearer). So I'd like to see when and why hua cheng chose that name for himself. The new tgcf ending song kinda hints at its meaning with the lyrics "for you I'd fill a city of flowers" as xie lian is the flower wielding martial god so it's probably inspired by that. Also xie lian saved hua cheng from leaping off the city walls but I'd love to hear him say it bc the implication of his name didnt dawn on me for quite a bit and I dont know if everyone made the connection. Again I sure as hell didnt. So itd be cool to see a chapter that takes place in his past after just ascending as a supreme

Overall I rlly think tgcf had a lot more potential to be even better and a lot of that comes down to fleshing out the side characters and letting hualian have more of a storyline independent of one another. like i know the appeal and message of tgcf is that through love, people can overcome anything, but fuck man. i just wanna see what these two (mostly hua cheng) where like in the absence of each others presence. Part of what I really liked abt mdzs is that we got to see that longing develop btw wangxian when the two weren’t together and how they thought about each other and did things in thei others spirit bc they knew the other wouldve done the same thing. but whatever, mxtx was too consumed by her own unhealthy idea of what devotion and true love looks like but still. i rlly think the extras couldve helped the story be better rather than be fujoshi fuel that i try to bleach from my mind -_-

[semi-imaginary-place]

the weight of time, the other side, enemy 6. webtoons up to the other side 10

alright back to kubera, timey wimey shenanigans and maruna growing a conscious.

so kuberas one of those series where spoilers dont change the experience so i knew yaksha was going to show up but ah im so excited yaksha and og airavata??? thank you currygom. oh yeah and we got more on brilith's soul's past i guess.

huh so the ancient human cycle of reincarnation is breaking down. ptsd is being inherited across lives. humans were suppose to regain memories of their past lives when their minds and bodies were fully matured but violent deaths are leading to them regaining their memories before their minds are ready to deal with the trauma and as a result instead trraging each life seperately like we saw with the humans maruna interacted with, the humans ran meets there is no seperation between one life and the next its bluring together and thr grudges are growing as people life out the past. I love it!

...thats ananta. damn currygom is going HARD this arc, all the big names are here. also i just love ananta, yaksha, and og airavata having a breakfast club. ananta is half way to having the dead anime mom hair but joking aside the two foofy braids are super cute. currygom.... why you keep killing off all the nice ones... oh no yaksha has bad regeneration doesnt he... ok i just spent a week with a literal toddler and yeah gandharva

ok i cant tell how much of this heart talk is metaphorical and how much is literal ie yaksha physical heart is effecting ran emotionally. now that i think about it why is hanuman in their female form in the current timeline. wait maruna couldnt interact with another alive in the current time but ran can? i love yaksha why are all my favorite characters doomed. LET ME PROTECT THE CUTE OLD MAN. he's even white haired, has a tail, and is fluffy! fluffy! ran is watee attribute like yaksha too. wait i just remembered samphati told maruna that ideally a natiska parent would mentor a 5th stage rakshasa since 5th stage vigor and what not works more like a natuska and isnt that what yaksha is doing for ran. oh so this is what they meant by suras natures are to destroy. natiskas take of their attribues and astika create

ah so ran's half phobia isn't just trauma from the cataclysm but being afraid of himself. yeah where'd the wind transcendendal come from, ran is water water water

oh wow that experiment was more important than i thought. everyone is there

ooh naver commenter pointed out how sura sometimes scheme names their kids and raltara's parents name might be taraka the natiska name kali took to make yuta

this cute old man is bad for my heart. also ananta is precious. maruna continues to underestimate people but i will say him mistaking to most powerful being to have ever exisged in the universe for a 4th stage rakshasa ia pretty funny.

yaksha is basically a catboy. that explains a lot actually.

im enjoying the characterization of sagara. to sagara power is everything. ananta just wants everyone to be happy, he's uncomfortable with exterminating the ancient humans but he'll do it for sagara. this isnt true to himself or what he wants but he'll be what those around him want him to be. oh wow so the name/role of ananta was designed to take on a portion of every sin ever in the universe. also callback to brilith's conversations on whether its better to have gods that are too weak to do anything or have the power but choose not to help. oh shit and by brahma asking his consent in the destruction of the ancient humans (and ensuring it via sagara) she ensured the sins of killing them would fall on to him.

oh and somethings up with tilda but we dont know what yet. shes going to be important

where is marunas coat? mmmm head hurts... so gods forget things so that they arent weighted down by desires and reach the top/enlightenment. but once they reach the top the dont have to keep forgetting? about doomed willarav(??) all the deaths are turning point in which the characters didin't choose compassion. this is also the outcome that kali averted. ok im with maruna ran is giving me bad vibes. oooooo the maruna ran raltara gandharva situation! the tension! the drama! i was so caught up if the eye of punishment was going to be used by maruna or shess that a couple years ago i didnt even consider the possibility of a new character.

we also see the payoffs of the weight of time and the other side as well ran and maruna have come to see things from the other side (sura and humans). as others have pointed out maruna has spent several millennia among humans and discarded the sura cultural mentalities taught to him (obey superiors, no compassion etc which we see directly in his confrontation with samphati but everywhere after this time adventure) and taken a mentality closer to that of the first ancient humans. if humans using silent magic is said to lessen their humanity and make them more like sura ruthless calculating and cold, the maruna has become more human. the opposite is true of ran having spent many years living as a rakshasa and living far beyond a human lifespn. literally he has become more in tune with his sura side coming to terms with his grand parent being hanuman, yaksha's heart within him, and his power which killed his mother and he attacked the two next most important people to him lutz and rana. silent magic was said to need a desire for power, a lack of compassion for ones enemies, and a willingness to give up everything for one's goals. and mentally his mindset has been shifting from that of a humans to the one we usually see in sura. remember when he was introduced ran was the nicest character in the cast after leez.

so god kubera put the konchez party in a transcendental to stop their minds from merging with the maruna and ran of the current chapter. but thats what made them too late to stop taraka dying and 4th stage yuta. unless they wouldn't have made it aahhhhhhhh my head hurts i infinite possibilities gah! time travel! anyways but im still not sure what god kubera wants to begin with. wait no the mental transcendental preserved the minds of their former selves. the merge did happen that's how the clothes got "restored". oh yeah i forgot former kubera drew the sword of re before giving it to leez.

one of the currygom afterwords or something mentioned it but there's many more characters recently that do not neatly fit into the established boxes. perhaps its because at the beginning and and ending of the universe reality is looser. we have confirmation that yaksha clan bunny girl petupan that ran met has a chaos attribute but other sura we have met has chaos-ish aspects to them like other bunnygirl sona who maybe could be petupan's daughter? curiosly hanuman has a weird left arm when ran met him but doesnt in the modern day. then there's taraka that maintained their minds and forms like samphati and makara. then we have ran whos a human rakshasa (hanuman wondering if they forgot about a child with yaksha is still funny)

3-195 the other side 13 is the last we see maruna with his red fluffy coat in a flashback with raltara. it isnt seen until maruna goes to the abandoned timeline or n23

its probably intentional on currygoms part that yaksha's source attribute is water and that the inheritor of his heart ran was born with 3 water attributes. the interesting part is when ran starts using wind transcendentals and hanuman's source attribute is wind. so its almost as if he were a rakshasa with light as a clan attribute and water and wind as heteditary attributes. what im not sure of is in the fight with maruna ran seems to use some sort of lightning based attack and i cant quite remember so he either mixed partial surification with divine magic, has a sky attribute???? or there's sky transcendentals that dont require an attribute?

the abyss is the water channel of th sura realm?? omg and maruna cant remember the thing in the abyss that was chasing them because its existence has been replaced with yuta.

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[rosepetalmark]

Not in the Stars

2.5k words

Renjun x Reader

warnings: alcohol mention

in which you plan to confess your love for your best friend to him at a party, but the universe has other plans in store for the both of you. 

You like Renjun. A lot. 

That was one sentence in your five years of friendship with Huang Renjun that you never thought you’d say to yourself, let alone admit to. 

You don’t know where these feelings came from, but all you know is that they’re strong and on your mind twenty four seven. Everything he says and does captivates your mind, causing your feelings for him to grow even stronger.

It’s as if these feelings for him suddenly hit you like a brick one day. You were strictly best friends last week, and now you have these unexplainable deep feelings for him, eating you alive and begging for you to confess to him.

It’s not that you’re opposed to dating Renjun, it’s just that he’s been your best friend for several years and he means so incredibly much to you. You just don’t want to risk losing him or making things between you two weird if he doesn’t feel the same. 

So you suppress your feelings. As long as you have Renjun as your best friend, that’s all that matters, right?

Jaemin always makes you second guess yourself, explaining that the dynamic duo that you and Renjun are would be ten times more incredible if you were dating. Since you’re already best friends and know everything about each other, why not date? Only bigger and better things can come from it he always says.

Although Jaemin makes strong points, you’re still scared Renjun will turn you away, mainly because you’re ninety nine percent certain that he only views you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. 

Yeah you have sleepovers  and spend hours late at night talking on the phone with one another, but that’s what best friends do. If Huang Renjun has any feelings for you, you’re sure someone would have said something by now. 

You get the typical stares from old people when you make your daily trek to school in the morning, him waiting outside your house for you at exactly seven forty two, smiling so bright the second you walk out your front door.  

You constantly get mistaken as his girlfriend whenever you go out together on the weekend, which always causes a deep pink blush to appear on Renjun’s cheeks. He’s always quick to brush it off though, making it clear to everyone around you that you’re strictly best friends, and that neither of you view each other in that way. 

Boy is he wrong.

Everything about Renjun makes your heart flutter, and that’s something that scares you.

For starters, he excels so well in school. For someone who spends eighty percent of his time doodling instead of taking notes, he aces every test and can recite every piece of information that’s been discussed in class with no problem.

He’s caring and funny, and so unapologetically himself. He takes you to art museums on your spare time, talks about the latest conspiracy that’s on his mind, and always insists you go for milkshakes every Sunday night.

And boy was he cute. The way he tilts his head all the way back and crinkles his eyes when he laughs makes your heart absolutely melt.

Huang Renjun makes you happy and positive and there’s nothing more in this world that you want than to hold his hand and kiss him in public, as well as call him your boyfriend so bad. 

It wasn’t until you were out late with him, hanging out on the roof at Jeno’s house, trying to escape the loudness that was coming from inside. Jeno was throwing a kickback to celebrate the beginning of summer, something he does ever year, in which there’s always too many people inside, and you and Renjun find yourself on the roof trying to seek solace in the stars. 

Renjun looked so ethereal in the moonlight. There was nothing more that you wanted to do than press your lips ever so gently against his, and hold his hand while staring up at the stars displayed so brightly above you both in the dark sky. 

“What are you thinking about bubs?” Renjun asked, referring to the nickname he gave you when he found out that’s the name you gave your favourite stuffed rabbit when you were a child. 

God the way his voice sounded in this moment made you weak. The tipsiness you both experienced earlier was wearing off, causing your lack of hydration to become present through your raspy voices. 

But you don’t care. You’re with Renjun, and you are warm and comfortable and in love. 

In love. 

You’re in love with Huang Renjun and you can’t keep it in any longer.

Maybe this would be the best time to tell him. Every time you’re completely sober, you push the idea to the side, trying your best to forget your feelings for him even exist. What if Jun doesn’t feel the same? What if he does but months down the line you figure out you’re better off as friends, and then when you try to get back into your non-romantic routine, everything feels off? You always worry that things will go wrong and Renjun will eventually stop being your friend.

Not tonight though. Renjun looks gorgeous in the moonlight and the little bit of alcohol that remains in your system is acting as your source of encouragement, convincing you to confess to him right now and hope for the best outcome possible. 

“Love,” you reply nonchalantly. 

“Love?” he questions, staring back to you, seemingly surprised with your response. 

“Yeah. Just wondering what the universe has in store for me, you know?” you ask, turning your body to face his direction, criss crossing your legs over one another. “The idea of love both intrigues me and freaks me out. It’s exciting anticipating what will come from it, but the fear of something going wrong down the line makes me not want to pursue it, you know?” you say, staring innocently into his eyes.

He cocks his head, an intrigued look falling on his face. He purses his lips, looking as if he’s going to say something, but remains silent. 

You both remain in silence for the next several minutes, which causes your thoughts to wander. What if Renjun has caught on? Maybe he’s thinking of ways to turn you down gently. Or he’s trying to express that he somehow knows you’re talking about him, and he’s trying to do so in a similar manner. 

But the silence is killing you, and you want nothing more than for Renjun to say something. Anything to get your thoughts to shut up, and your heart race to stop rapidly beating.

“I think you shouldn’t be scared of love,” he finally says. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks off into the sky, admiring the many stars laying millions of miles away from you both. “I get that you never know what may come out of it, but I think it’s worth a shot to know you tried, and to experience something you’re not fully sure is going to work,”  he speaks softly.

“Take a look at the universe for example. It’s so big and undiscovered, yet millions of people are fascinated by it. We’re obsessed with the stars and galaxies and the possibility of aliens- which I know for a fact exist by the way, yet we’re not afraid to spend our time discovering them and giving them our attention. I think of love in a similar manner. Yeah the thought seems so broad and scary, as there’s so many things to experience and discover, but I think it’s worth it. You’re only going to learn new things about yourself and life, so why not give it a shot?”

He clears his throat, and pays his attention back to you. He has a look of determination in his eyes, and that only makes you grow even more anxious.

“Aren’t you a wise expert on love, Mr. Huang,” you chuckle.

“Well what can I say? I do a lot of thinking on my spare time when I’m not bickering with you,” he laughs, positioning himself on his arms so he can get a better view of the night sky.

“Hey!” you shout, pushing onto his arm, causing him to lose his newly comfortable position and to fall on his back. “What are you thinking about Ren? You have this sour look on your face.”

“Well your idea of love got me thinking,” he says softly, staring into your eyes.

Nervousness takes over your body. You have no idea what he’s going to say, and every second of silence is eating you up.

“And?” you say abruptly, eager to know what he’s about to say. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I don’t know, I never thought much of it because I’m a wimp, but I think I’m going to ask Yeri out” he confesses, a small smile forming on his face. 

The mention of Yeri makes your heart sink. Yeri. He wants to ask out Yeri. Not you. 

Of course he likes Yeri. What isn’t there to like about her? She’s really pretty and polite, and they’re both the editors of the school newspaper, so they spend a great amount of time with each other. 

God this hurt. 

“Oh really,” you respond, with a less enthusiastic tone replacing your prior happy one.

“Yeah. We’ve been getting to know each other a lot more ever since we got asked to do this editorial on the basketball team, and I think I may have feelings for her”

“Well, um I think you should go for it Renjun, “ you reply, looking off into the stars to help keep what’s happening off your mind. If you look into his eyes, you’re certain you’ll start crying.

If it’s not you, you’re glad he has an interest in a girl with a golden heart and personality. 

“You think? What if she doesn’t like me?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Like you said Ren, you never know what will come from love. Why not give it a shot if it’ll lead to potentially greater things not only within yourselves, but life in general? And if she ends up only seeing you as a friend, it’s okay. You’ll find someone one day who loves every part of you.”

And you can’t help but know deep down that that person is you. If Yeri rejects him, you’ll be right here to help him pick up the pieces, if not, you’ll still be here. As his best friend. Renjun deserves all the love and happiness the universe has to offer him, and despite being sad he shows no romantic interest in you, you’re glad he finds it in an amazing girl. 

“Alright cool, I guess I’ll ask her out on Monday when we meet up to discuss the paper then.” he says, smiling to himself. 

He looks so happy. Ecstatic even. You haven’t seen him smile this big since he won first place in your school’s art show.

“She’s here you know, at the party,” you say to him. “You should do it now.”

“You think?” he asks, eyes wide. 

Renjun was never one to act on impulse. He’s a man with a plan, and always has to do things by the book or else he’ll lose his hair. He likes structure and time, a complete flip from your bold and impulsive self. 

“Yeah, why not? You’re both here, you look really cute right now, and the stars are out in your favour, shining bright to provide you with the courage to do so.” 

This makes Renjun smile. You’ve always been a help in boosting his confidence, and you’re glad to be of assistance in such a nerve-wracking yet exciting period in his life. 

Standing up, he dusts the possible dirt off his legs. He crouches over, looking into your eyes and grabs your hand. “You’re the best y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“As I with you,” you reply, a soft grin forming from your lips. “Now go downstairs and ask her out before she leaves.”

Standing back up, he begins walking to the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!” he half shouts, pressing his hand to the door handle,  and making his way back into the house. 

You’re now left alone, on the rooftop, with just the stars and your thoughts. 

Why didn’t you bring up your feelings to him sooner, you thought. Now you’re only left sad and alone, because you were too scared to tell your best friend you’re in love with him. Confessing to him seemed so perfect in your mind a couple minutes ago, but sadly the universe has other plans in store for you. 

You decide to get comfortable and lie down, and begin to look at the constellations that are possibly present within the night sky. You can still hear the loud, most likely drunk people just a floor below you, and the vibration of the music hitting your body despite being away from the noise. But you don’t care. It’s just you and the sky, and you’re doing everything in your power to forget about the party below you, and to focus on the stars. 

As you point out the orion in the sky, you feel a buzz in your back pocket, indicating that you’ve got a text. Reaching for it, you unlock your phone, and see a notification stating that Renjun messaged you. Pressing on the messages app, you click on his name and read the following:

jun bug: she said yes!! we’re going out on tueday after we’re done editing :) (2:17 AM)

“Yes.” Yeri said yes. 

You’re happy for your best friend, but for yourself, you’re heartbroken. The possibility of dating him is now slim to none, especially since a potential girlfriend is in the mix, only making you more sad for yourself. 

You make sure to reply quick, and in a way that’ll make him happy, and hopefully provide you with the positivity that everything will be okay.

y/n: i’m so happy for you ren <3 (2:18 AM)

As you press send, you feel the tears start to slide down your cheeks. You’re happy for him, you really are, but you can’t help but wish that things went differently, and that you were in Yeri’s position. 

But as Renjun said before, love can be scary. It’s a learning experience, and if it doesn’t work out, you just need to take what you can from it, and hope for the best in the future. 

So you’ll take his words, and you’ll try your best to move on. 

It’ll be tough, but you hope to god that one day he’ll just be your best friend, and that this heartbreak won’t last with you forever. 

[today-we-will-survive]

meet me in the tree house

Moodboard made by @snowflakeu25

BTS au-imagine

Yoongi x Reader Y/N

fluff, romance

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: This was a request from @snowflakeu25 💜

Three knocks on his studio door.

A gruff voice, muffled by the walls enters your ears and you twist the knob and push into the room with your hip since your other hand is preoccupied carrying a shallow box of takeout containers. A boy sits in a computer chair facing a mountain of recording equipment. Speakers jut from the two corners of the ceiling. Three large monitors sit atop the mountain, an expanse of panels, keyboards, knobs and sliders filling the valley below. At the sound of you entering the room, he turns around, his mouth twitching into a quick smirk before his eyes fall to the food in your hands.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” Yoongi replies spinning around fully to face the coffee table as you set the box down on its surface.

“Working hard?” you ask and take a seat on the leather couch that sits adjacent to him.

Yoongi stretches, arching his back and raising his arms in the air with a groan. “Always,” he says. “Chinese?”

“You know it.”

The two of you are quiet for a while as you work at getting all of the take out containers open and onto the coffee table. Then you pass him a pair of chopsticks before taking your own pair and grabbing the closest container. You’ve watched Yoongi become a big time producer, his songs winning award after award. You’ve seen him on tv, standing on stages, making speeches, wearing designer clothes and being adored by people that don’t know him.

Yet every Wednesday, you come to Bighit, the security guard giving you a smile and a nod of recognition and you take the elevator up to the fourth floor, carrying take out, walk down that hallway lined with albums that have gone gold and platinum before reaching the studio. And there you find him, in his baggy sweats and baggy shirt, sometimes a beanie to keep his hair out of his eyes and he’d turn and greet you with that same tired smile. He’s never treated you different. He’s never let the fame get to him. Probably because he knows how far of a fall it would be back to the bottom where he started if he were to let it all go to his head.

You moved to the city not long after Yoongi got the job at Bighit. The two of you have been best friends since you were in fourth grade, when he moved into the house next door to yours. He had a tree house in his backyard that you had been eying for a while and when his mom had forced him to come over and ask you to play, you’d been ecstatic to finally be able to see the inside of it. It was as cool as you’d thought it would be, and that was where you’d spend a lot of late nights during the summer.

As you got older, the tree house transformed from a playhouse to a safe house. If your parents were fighting or lashing out at you, you’d send a quick text to him asking him to meet you there. And by the time you climbed up the rope ladder, the hatch would already be open and Yoongi would be waiting for you, his ears open to listen or his arms open to hold you, whichever you needed. Usually, it was both.

Once he moved away after college, there wasn’t much left for you in your small town, so you followed him, getting a job in the city and hanging out whenever he was free. Which wasn’t as often lately.

“So what have you been working on?” you ask before shoving a piece of orange chicken into your mouth.

Yoongi perks up, swallowing his mouthful of food before spinning to face his desk again. “Tell me what you think of this. Then with a couple clicks of his mouse and a press of a button on one of his keyboards, the room fills with music.

You close your eyes so you’re not distracted by anything and listen to the steady rhythm as it builds. After a few measures, Yoongi’s familiar voice starts in, delivering the deep lyrics he’s become so well-known for. You can feel the smile spreading your mouth as you listen, your head automatically bobbing to the beat. You’re really enjoying the song when suddenly it cuts off and you open your eyes to find Yoongi looking at you, his hand poised on his keyboard. You frown.

“What did you stop it for?”

“I just wanted to give you a sneak peek. You can’t hear the whole song until the mixtape is done.”

“Mixtape?” you ask as your smile returns.

Yoongi smiles back and looks down at his hands shyly. “By the way, I’m making a mixtape.

You let out an excited squeal, reaching out to hit his arm over and over, his smile growing bigger with every hit. “Are you serious?” you finally ask when he’s rolled out of your reach. “You’ve been wanting to do a mixtape forever!”

“Yeah,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve finally gotten some time to work on it so I’ve been kind of messing around, writing some stuff.”

You pick up the container of pork fried rice, poking at it as you shake your head. “I’m really excited for you, Yoongi. It’s going to be amazing.”

“I hope.”

“It will be,” you say. “You’re crazy talented.”

Just then you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket and when you reach for it and look at the screen, you can’t help but smile. The room is silent as you type a response to the message you received.

“Who has the audacity to interrupt our Wednesday night dinner?” Yoongi asks jokingly as he wheels back over and swipes a container off of the coffee table.

You send the message and set your phone onto the table before taking another bite of rice. “Just a guy I’ve been talking to,” you say. “Sorry.”

Yoongi blinks, obviously caught off guard by your response. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I didn’t know you were talking to someone.”

“Yeah,” you say with a shy smile. “I met him at a party last weekend and, I don’t know. We got to talking and now we’ve been texting each other a bit.”

Yoonig lets out a grunt, suddenly very interested in the container he’s holding.

“I don’t know,” you say again. “I think I’m finally in a place to start wanting to date again…you know, after everything that happened with—”

“Y/N,” Yoongi says cutting you off. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about him. I’m glad you’re able to move on now. I’m happy for you.”

You tilt your head as you study your best friend. His words sound genuine but the sentiment doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Thanks,” you utter. You hear your phone vibrate against the coffee table and you watch as Yoongi’s gaze falls to it for a split second before focusing back on poking his chopstick into his food.

*

*

Y/N: So Chinese again tonight or something different?

Yoongi: Ive got a lot of work to do tonight. I dont think I can hang out.

Y/N: Oh ok. See u next week then?

Yoongi: Sure.

*

*

Y/N: Hey, did u want to go out tonight instead of me bringing something? Theres a new ramen place I wanted to try.

Yoongi: cant hang out tonight. Busy.

Y/N: …ok. Next week then? I miss u.

Yoongi: Sure.

*

*

Y/N: ok. Im kidnapping u tmrrw night. I kno u dont rlly like going anywhere on Wednesday nights since u hav to work but we havnt hung out in like 3 weeks and I want to take u to see this new horror movie with me. And I kno that telling u Im kidnapping u kind of negates the whole “kidnapping” thing but I kno u dont like surprises.

Yoongi: cant.

Y/N:…really?

Yoongi: Sorry. I have to work.

Y/N: man…ur working a lot lately, arnt u?

Yoongi: its my job, Y/N. Maybe next week.

Y/N: Next week Im going to be back home to visit some family.

Yoongi: oh ok.

Y/N: Whatever, Yoongi. If u dont want to hang out anymor, just say it.

Y/N: Or dont. Whatever.

*

*

Yoongi: hey

Yoongi: Y/N

Yoongi: I know ur mad at me but please respond.

Yoongi: Y/N I was just being an idiot.

Yoongi: Y/N

Yoongi: Please talk to me.

Yoongi: look, I kno ur reading my texts and I kno u probably wont respond but if u end up seeing this, please meet me in the tree house in like twenty minutes. Alright? Thats where Ill be. I need to talk to u.

*

“The tree house?” you utter as you re-read his last text. As in the one at his parent’s house? The one that’s over an hour away from the city the two of you live in now?

You’re at a family dinner at the moment but you’ve all already eaten and now your parents are just talking to your aunt and uncle and though you’re a bit reluctant to actually meet up with Yoongi (since you’re still pretty pissed at him for ditching you for the past three weeks) he’s the perfect excuse for you to duck out early. And you do just that, saying goodnight to your extended family before telling your parents that you have to run but you’ll see them back at home later. Then you head out before anyone can argue.

It’s about a thirty minute drive from the restaurant back to your house. You can’t even bring yourself to pretend to feel bad for making him wait those ten extra minutes wondering if you’re even going to show up. It serves him right. The two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember and have been doing Wednesday night dinner together ever since he got the job at Bighit. After all this, he decides he’s too busy to hang out? He’s never been too busy. Has the fame finally gotten to his head?

A terrible thought occurs to you as you pull into the driveway at your childhood home. What if he wants to meet you to break things off? To tell you that he doesn’t have time for friends anymore. That you shouldn’t come around anymore because it’s interfering with his work. That he’s outgrown you.

With an angry jerk of the stick shift, you jam your car into park and turn off the engine, yanking the key out. You can already feel yourself getting worked up as you slam the door and stomp across the yard to Yoongi’s house. When you get through the gate and enter the backyard, your eyes trail up to the tree house where it resides in the tall maple in the middle of the lawn. The sun is almost all the way set and the sky is already turning a medium shade of blue. It’s getting dark fast and you can see golden light filtering out of the windows in the tree house. He’s there. Good.

You take a deep breath then make your way up the rope ladder. This was a lot easier when you were younger, and smaller, and you can’t help but wonder how much longer this rope will even hold. With that thought, you scurry up the last few rungs, hoping the whole time that it won’t snap on you. Then, when you poke your head up through the hole, your eyes fall on Yoongi.

He’s laying on his back, hands on his stomach and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. At the sound of your arrival, he turns his head, his gaze locking with yours.

He sits up quickly. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

You back away from the hole in the floor until your spine rests against the wall. “I wasn’t going to but it was an excuse to duck out of dinner early.” You cross your arms. “What are you even doing here, Yoongi?”

Your best friend gets to his feet. “I wanted to talk to you about…everything.”

“Well?”

Yoongi sighs, bringing up a hand to scratch behind his ear. A nervous tick you’ve always thought was a bit endearing. “I guess I just got kind of…jealous.”

Um…

You stand there against the wall blinking for several seconds, not really sure if you heard him right. “Jealous,” you finally say. Yoongi nods. Your brow furrows and you let out a humorless laugh. “I’m sorry, Mr. Big-shot producer, what the heck would you be jealous of?”

As if on cue, your phone chimes in your pocket and Yoongi’s eyes fall to the outline of it against your thigh. You’ve still been talking to that other guy from several weeks ago and now it kind of dawns on you, just what Yoongi is jealous of. The two of you lock eyes again.

“Yoongi…”

The apples of his cheeks dust a light pink, contrasting against his pale mint hair and he shifts on his feet. “No, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have been like that. Not when I’ve never even told you how I feel. I just wanted you to meet me here so I could tell you that I’m sorry and I want to keep doing our Wednesday night thing and you can text that guy all you want. And I know you don’t need my permission but I’m just letting you know that I won’t be a jerk about this. And I won’t start acting all weird. Date him. Marry him. I’ll still be your best friend as long as you want me to be. And if you don’t, I understand that too because what kind of person freezes their best friend out over another guy? You’re more important to me than that and…Y/N?”

His words finally trail off when he looks up and realizes you’ve been standing there gaping at him the whole time. Your heart is in your stomach and your breaths have become shallow. Are you having a panic attack? Here? In Yoongi’s tree house? In front of Yoongi?

“Y/N?” he asks again.

“What did you say?” you utter.

“What?”

“What did you say?” you ask louder. “Just now. What did you say?”

Yoongi fumbles with his hands for a second, running his fingers through his hair and switching his weight to his other foot again. “Uh…that you’re my best friend?”

“Before that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Before that.”

“I was being stupid?”

“After that.”

Yoongi bites his bottom lip, the pink in his cheeks becoming darker. “…that I haven’t told you how I feel?”

“Yeah,” you say. “How do you feel, Yoongi?”

“I feel like…” he takes a tentative step toward you, keeping his eyes locked on yours even as the blush spreads down to his neck. “…like I’ve been in love with my best friend for the past five years.” He takes another step toward you. The tree house isn’t very big so even after just these two steps, there’s only about a foot of space between you now. “How do you feel, Y/N?” he asks, his voice much lower than it was before. You peer up at him, heat creeping up your own neck to settle on your cheeks.

“I…uh…I—” your phone chimes in your pocket again and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath. “Give me two seconds,” you whisper then pull your phone out of your pocket with trembling fingers and check the screen. Yoongi leans in a bit to peek too. “It’s my mom,” you say and you hear him chuckle under his breath. “She wants to know if I want them to pick up ice cream on their way back.”

“Do you?” he asks leaning in more, his dark eyes now drilling into yours. You’d back up if you could but you’re already pressed against the wall.

“Do I what?” you ask him.

He hesitates for just a moment, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Want ice cream?”

You both know that’s not the question he’s really asking and for a split second, your eyes dart down to his lips. You pull your own into your mouth as you try to conjure up the words. You’re already a flustered mess with this boy so close to you, looking at you the way he is, his body heat radiating across the small space between you.

“Of course I want ice cream. I frikin’ love ice cream.”

The tension in the small space seems to burst as Yoongi falls forward, his head landing on your shoulder and laughter bubbling up out of him. You can’t help but laugh too as you feel his shoulders shake against yours and then he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to keep either of you from tumbling to the floor. The room is filled with your giggling and tears have sprung to your eyes and finally, once the muscles in both of your stomachs are good and sore, he lifts his head back up.

The laughter dies down as the two of you lock eyes again. You watch with bated breath as he reaches up to brush the hair back from your forehead, his fingers sliding down the side of your face and lingering on your jaw. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he utters.

You don’t even hesitate to nod before he closes the small gap, his lips moulding to yours along with the rest of his body. His one hand tightens on your waist and the other slides to the back of your neck and then he’s tilting his head to kiss you deeper. Of course, then your phone chimes AGAIN causing him to jump back with a small gasp.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your head swimming as you look down at your phone still in your hand. You look back up at Yoongi again. “Flavor?”

Yoongi stands there breathing hard for a second, staring at you as he processes your question. His tongue flicks out of his mouth for just a second. “Chocolate,” he finally says breathlessly.

You type the word as fast as you can, getting frustrated when you keep screwing up, before hitting send and dropping your phone onto the rug. Then you reach out to grasp Yoongi by the shoulders, pulling him to you once again.

*

*

“Just listen to this one,” Yoongi says as he pulls you back down into his lap.

The computer chair creaks under the weight of the two of you and you grip the arms to keep from toppling over. “Yoongi, I have to go. I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

“Just this last one,” he says and slides the headphones back onto your ears. You’ve tried taking them off for the last five songs but every time you do, he wants you to listen to just one more. This is the last one, I promise.

“Yoongi, you’re really making me seem like a jerk of a girlfriend that doesn’t want to listen to your music.”

“But you do want to listen to my music, right?”

You smile and reach up to touch your palm to his cheek. “Of course, I do,” you say. Yoongi’s mouth lifts into a gummy smile as he nuzzles your hand. “You know I’m your biggest fan.”

“I know,” he says with a contented sigh.

He’s too perfect for his own good. So talented and so soft lately. Yoongi has always been more on the reserved side. Never cold but a bit closed off, even to you. But ever since the two of you talked—if you can even call it that—in the tree house, everything has changed. He’s revealed a different side of himself to you. A softer side. A happier side. You can hear it in his music, too. How happy he’s become.

“Alright,” you say. “Just one more.”

Yoongi claps excitedly before pressing a button on his keyboard and then settling back in under you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your arm. He loves watching your expression as you listen to his music. Loves seeing how it affects you, loves seeing the uncensored reaction. He knows you’ll always be honest with him, because you want him to give his best. Besides his colleagues, you’re the only one who’s opinion he trusts.

As you listen, Yoongi starts playing with your fingers, pressing the pads of his own against yours so you mirror his movements, and then when he glances at the screen and sees that the song is almost over, he slides his fingers through the gaps between yours and locks your hand in his. You knew he wouldn’t let you go after this song.

You shake your head until the headphones slip from your ears. “Yoongi,” you say.

“Just one more,” he says quickly and releases one of your hands to pull the headphones back up.

[dearericbittle]

Fit hot guys have problems too (don’t objectify us with your male and female gaze)

(Also on AO3)

To Cora, 1:24 AM: im tired of guys just wanting to hook up with me. im like, guys, i know im pretty and i have a slammin bod and i love making out, but cant someone treat me with respect??

After rejecting indecent proposal #17 of the night, he is ready to drown his frustrations in a bottle of tequila. Even though he doesn’t exactly have the best relationship with tequila after that one time in New York.

Complaining to his baby sister about how all the men at Jungle just wanted to fuck was a real low point. But it isn’t like he has any actual friends that he could commiserate with - because that is the actual rock bottom reality of his life.

He’s only just returned to California after years of living on the East Coast, and his resting bitch face (complete with Murder Brows) and complete inability to talk to people has made it impossible to make friends. That and he doesn’t like most people - and people seem to be determined to prove him right on that account.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” another random stranger makes an approach.

“No,” he growls, making the guy take a couple steps back.

Derek doesn’t even bother looking at the guy, because if that was his opening line… He is just going to be another superficial asshole who doesn’t care about anything but Derek’s looks. And Derek has at least some standards, even when he is on his way to getting a good buzz going. (Which he will be, soon, hopefully. He’s too sober for this shit.)

He is just about to get the bartender’s attention, because he really needs a damn drink after #18, when he is rudely interrupted yet again.

“That’s cold, dude,” another voice sounds, this time from his left. “You didn’t even look at that one. Efficient, though.”

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, Derek turns to see the guy who’s deigned to comment on his rejection protocol. And he stops in his tracks, because well…

The guy is a mess. There’s glow in the dark lipstick prints on his face (several of them matching the drag queens up on stage), a rip in his t-shirt that’s close to exposing a nipple, and his eyes are alert even though the bags under his eyes speak of serious sleep deprivation.

He’s the most interesting person Derek’s met in ages.

“Don’t call me dude.”

And he’s fucked it up in about five seconds, as is his wont.

“This is going to sound like a line, so bear with me,” the guy grins, briefly drawing Derek’s attention to his mouth. “But you have to give me your name for me to stop calling you dude.”

Mr. Interesting is right - it does sound like a line. So Derek just gives him an unimpressed look before trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Fine, I’ll go first,” the stranger takes another sip of his ridiculous cocktail, practically molesting the straw. “I’m Stiles.”

What the hell is a Stiles? That is a terrible name, but he’s probably heard worse in New York, because Brooklyn is hipster central these days.

He nods. “Derek.”

Mentally starting a timer for how long it takes Stiles to start commenting about how he’ll be screaming that name later, he stares down at his water bottle. Fuck, he still hates tequila - does he really want do that to himself?

Maybe he should ask the bartender for something else, when he finally gets the guy’s attention.

“Good, now I won’t have to call you dude, dude,” Stiles smirks, and it’s infuriating.

Derek rolls his eyes, determined not to enjoy that terrible joke. He knows that this is probably the end of it, and Stiles will either hit on him or stop talking to him - this is just about getting the unattainable guy. It’s a tactic, something from the playbook.

Cynical? Yes, he is.

“Wars or Trek?” Stiles turns fully towards him.

And he’s still being pornographic with that drink - Derek’s trying not to look at it too much, because even though it’s a cheap ploy, he’s only human and Stiles’ mouth is just sinful.

“What?”

It takes a while for his brain to process that inane question - and no, that has nothing to do with the single beer he had about two hours ago.

“Star Wars or Star Trek?” Stiles acts like this is a normal question.

Abandoning his quest to get the bartender to service this corner of the bar, he decides that he might as well continue talking to Stiles. They can chat for a bit, and then Stiles can get his awkward come-on out and Derek can reject him and he can go the fuck home and jerk off to porn. Because that is more satisfying than any of the men who propositioned him.

“That’s what you’re going to ask me?” He scoffs.

“Yes,” Stiles’ hands are in motion now. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in about a week, and since Danny has bailed on me to grope his boyfriend and the queens are still hard at work, this is the most stimulating conversation I’m going to get. Or would you rather talk about DC versus Marvel?”

That explains why he looks like he’s about to crash. If Derek cared, he’d ask why Stiles hasn’t been sleeping. But Cora’s called him an asshole since she was old enough to know that she shouldn’t use that word, and she is not wrong.

“C’mon, Derek,” Stiles goads him. “Or if you’d rather reject some more brave souls, I can just move away and leave you to it.”

He snorts, because brave souls? Really? Drunk idiots is his preferred synonym.

“Fuck no,” is what he ends up saying.

“Poor baby is tired of being the object of everyone’s affection,” Stiles is clearly an asshole, and Derek should not be charmed by it.

So he snipes back. “Jealous?”

“I don’t know about your life,” Stiles just goes in. “Sure, you’re hot like burning, but you’re an asshole who’s too embarrassed to talk geek with me. I’m expecting you to keep up - you look like the guy who owns both a leather jacket and a thumbhole sweater. You have layers.”

What the fuck would that kind of guy even look like? Like Derek, apparently, because Stiles is fucking right about this and it pisses him off. He doesn’t get to wear his leather jacket much, because California’s weather is a lot hotter than he’s used to, and he’s already looking forward to the upcoming winter. Even if he only wears his favorite sweater in the comfort of his own apartment.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” And he’s smug about it too.

“I’m like an onion,” Derek is annoyed enough to stick with the conversation.

Sarcasm drips off his every word - he’s expecting Stiles to have at least enough intelligence to grasp that.

And he’s proven right when Stiles laughs.

“So much more than just a pretty face,” he nods emphatically, almost like he’s his own bobblehead. “I respect that.”

This guy is completely ridiculous, so why is Derek still here, staring at his hands and long fingers and contemplating what they’d feel like on his skin? He’s pretty damn close to kinkshaming himself at this point. Because really, this is what does it for him?

Because yes, Stiles is attractive, tall and slim with eyes that make him think of honey, a mouth that never stops moving - just like his hands. Still, he’s dressed like he just lost a fight with someone or something, and he isn’t doing what Derek expected he’d do.

And that’s the thing, right there. Stiles is a fucking breath of fresh air after eighteen guys pulling exactly the same trick.

“You’re an asshole,” he tells Stiles, unable to hide how delighted he is by it.

“Ditto,” Stiles shoots back, also grinning.

He’s jostled a bit by the people trying to get closer to the bar, but no one uses the opportunity to get all up in his business - which is a new experience. Because he’s been so caught up in Stiles, no guy has dared to come over with yet another awkward come-on. That’s a bonus.

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Stiles lets his head drop onto the bar.

Derek hopes it sticks, because the bar is covered in sticky drink residue and other fluids he does not want to examine too closely. At the same time, he just wants to carry Stiles off somewhere to make sure he gets some fucking sleep.

Which… He doesn’t do nurturing well. It just doesn’t come naturally to him.

“Why are you still here?”

“Only so we can have these moments,” Stiles’ wit doesn’t suffer, somehow. “Because Danny’s my ride and he’s not done riding Ethan yet.”

Stiles motions in the direction of the dancefloor, and Derek pointedly does not look at what he’s pointing at. Because the vultures will descend the second he makes eye contact with someone.

“I’m taking you home,” Derek’s mouth is moving before his brain catches up.

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles bats his eyelashes at him like he’s a Southern Belle. “I thought you’d never ask. But seriously, as much as I’d love to get all up in that, I’m way too exhausted to do you justice. Raincheck?”

Cora is going to die laughing when she finds out about this - and she will. She always does.

“I’ll take it,” Derek finds himself saying. “But I’m still dragging your exhausted ass out of here. You’re drooling on the bar.”

Of course Stiles almost trips as he pulls himself back into a normal standing position, and of course Derek isn’t stupidly charmed by this idiot. Only he is.

“So you have been looking at my ass?” Stiles’ smile is sleepy and fond now.

“Just as much as you’ve been looking at mine,” he shoots back, motioning for Stiles to follow him.

Stiles laughs, almost elbows Derek in the gut and proceeds to take the lead.

Never a dull moment.

[tumblunni]

Hmm i think i may have possibly settled on an idea for how to rewrite Kin and Gin to be more complex and potentially redeemable.

Gonna focus on The Big Family Love, because these siblibgs caring about each other so much its literally their battle power is already their best and only slightly sympathetic trait

So i was thinking about the whole 'hey here's another third sibling in the third version of the game' thing and had a BIG BRAINWAVE

What if kin and gin want to turn back time to fix a mistake in their past? And all the evil they do with manipulating other people's pasts is something that they regret having to do buy see as a necessary evil in order to achieve their goal.

Their goal? Bronzlow.

Why did he not appear in the original version of the game and wasnt even mentioned? Because he was DEAD.

Kin and Gin's goal in life is to save their baby brother who died when they were children. Maybe his 'funny' clumsiness and struggle to keep up with his sisters was very much not funny in this original timeline. One day the twins were teasing him over something or other, he messed up yet again and got their kite caught in a tree or something. And they were supoosed to be responsible when looking after the lil guy, but on that day they just happened to be a little short tempered with him and made the stupid decision to yell at him to get the kite back even though they knew he wasnt good at climbing. It was just a stupid mistake of some kids who were probably too young to be put in charge of babysitting their brother. He just.. Fell. Everything was over so fast. And it felt like time had forever stopped at that moment.

So they spent their whole lives trying to find a way to bring him back to life, even doing forbidden magic to become yokai and gain the power they needed to bend time. And they grew old and cynical and slowly lost their grip on morality, because the guilt just kept hauntinh them and the closer they got to making their dream come true the more they became tempted to let go of morals and hurt people in the desperation to finally achieve it...

And then this would be a good excuse for me to lets play one of the original versions of the game and then also the third one. And it could be interesting to set it up like this story with my oc is actually left hanging on the first playthrough and only fully completes after the third game. Like its all in the same continuity as if Mallory really did experience both games! Kin and gin's time travel messing up the future could be a good excuse to show all the different versions as alternate universe type things! And have it so that at some point Bronzlow just suddenly appears without explanation and everyone acts like he was always there. Which would lead to the reveal of the whole backstory and like.. Bronzlow is here now and looks like how he would if he'd lived a full long life, because their plan is almost complete. Theyre always sassing him and he's all funny comic relief but really all alpng he mattered more to them than anyone else and theyre so happy to see him again. And getting to see him again has made them so desperate to make it real that they'd even collapse time and space itself just to not have to let go of him again! Like what if some of his 'funny clumsy moments' are actually like.. Signs that he's not completely saved and the paradox is trying to correct itself? Like he doesnt remember that he died but his sisters do, he's just like 'wow i felt kinda dizzy there for a moment, im sorry' and 'huh i seem really forgetful lately' and he doesnt notice himself flickering in and out of existance and just DAMMIT IM GETTING REALLY EMOTIONAL ALREADY

And in the end of course kin and gin would have to face the fact that bronzlow wouldbt want them to bring him back if it meant other people had to get hurt. Thats why they tried to hide the truth from him, they knew he would sacrifice himself to fix the timeline and save everyone. And it could be super depressing with him joining you to fight his sisters even when he knows it'll kill him, and then the last moment of the fight is the time machine thing being broken and then a vision of the siblings as kids standing beneath that same tree, and the twins begging bronzlow to let them just stop time here and stay with him, if they cant save him then they want to die together... But there's no timeline where he'd ever say yes to that...

:(

So umm yeah, the redemption fot these two would be finally accepting their grief instead of running from it, and you hug them and let them know that they have a second chance at a happy life. He never blamed them, they didnt have to destroy their own chance at happiness for his sake. He'd want them to go out and enjoy life, every time theyre smiling he'll be smiling with them...

I dunno i just think itd be a good way to make people care more about an underrated character. Cos from what ive heard about bronzlow he apparantly barely even talks, and really is just 'we added another one in the third version' with no more complexity than that. Kin and Gin already arent very popular so its understandable that their lil bro would be even more ignored, so this is an idea for how to make his low plot role a big plot role yet alsp at the same time get meta with thw low plot role itself being the big emotional tragedy...

Also i dunno if i'd actually find some way to bring him back eventually? Like as a reward for them at the end of their redemptive arc, maybe have them return in yw3 and help the heroes there and then after a loooong long journey they find another non-evil way to bring him back in the postgame. I dunno if itd dampen the emotional arc to bring him back tho? I feel like the importabt part os just that they learn not to hurt other people tp try and save their brother, as long as they actually finally give up and stop their evil plan it could still show the same amount of character growth if he does come back. Like it wouldbt be a moral-ruining 'yeah their evil plan actualky worked' kind of thing, just some different miracle happened, possibly directly caused BY them making the right choice? Like by confiding in others and not doing it all alone they finally manage to find the answer. But maybe have it happen some time after the endibg so the sadness still has enough time to breathe and it feels even happier when it eventually happens.

Also gives me an excuse to play out the credits sequence but with bronzlow vanishing out of that happy pic of them together. (Thanks to my friend who showed me that!)

[oswald-privileges]

Loudmouth

(I wrote some statement fic. It’s been a heck of a while since I wrote anything for fandom.)

Statement of Ulla Ness, regarding, um... a peculiar transformation. Original statement given March 14th, 1999. Audio recording by Christopher Peake, in an… unprofessional capacity. Statement begins.

I still don’t see why I had to come to you. I know you have an email address, so wouldn’t it have been easier to just scan the form and send it to me? Hell, I would have taken a physical copy sent to me in the post. It would have been slower, but it would have meant I could have stayed at home. But no. I asked, and you just gave me a lot of waffle about how you have ‘strict acquisition policies’, alongside directions that had been copied from google maps. Which I know, because I checked.

It’s not that I’m lazy, you understand, far from it. I used to have what I regarded as quite the active social life. But recently that’s become impossible for me to maintain, for a number of reasons. Which are also the reasons that I’ve come to talk to you.

I used to be quite a religious person. Still am, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure. I was a member of the congregation of Saint Mary’s, a small anglican church in a small, anglican village up in Lincolnshire. Not everybody there was particularly devout, but it wasn’t one of those places where it especially mattered. It was more about the sense of community we had. Catching up with each other after communion on Thursdays, singing in the choir, arranging cake sales or coffee mornings as fundraisers for whatever bit of the building had fallen off now. I’ve been attending since I was little, and more or less grew up with the congregation.

I miss it quite badly, if I’m being honest. I’ve always been the sort to need other people, but I didn’t realise quite how much losing them would affect me. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and all that, I suppose.

It started with another fundraiser, a jumble sale this time. I had volunteered to help manage the event, so I was in charge of sorting through the items that people had brought in for us to sell. Like I said, not everyone there was strictly devout, and didn’t always take care with what they decided to donate. Some people seemed to use it as more of an excuse to toss legitimate junk in our direction and call it a good deed.

This was definitely the case with Mister Ashley. He attended purely because his mother was too old to walk by herself, and I rather think that she insisted that he stay with her throughout the service. It was definitely at her behest that he took part in any communal activities. She would always announce that he would be happy to run stalls or make tea or some other menial duty, while he sat by her side, stony-faced, and saying nothing at all.

The only time I remember him giving any sort of reaction was when when his mother announced that her Jamie would be happy to donate some of his shop’s excess stock for the jumble sale. I remember, he turned to her with the strangest look on his face. At the time, I thought it was one of badly suppressed outrage. I assumed that she had simply gone a bit too far in volunteering his services; Mister Ashley was a second hand book seller, and owned the Jabberwock Bookshop just off from Memorial Square. It can’t have been all that easy to turn a profit. Thinking back on it now, though, and I wonder if his expression was something sharper than just anger. If it could have been alarmed, almost panicked. But I believe that is likely be nothing more than hindsight colouring my memories. If he had had some way of knowing, had been frightened of something like that which came to pass, then… well. I cannot honestly say I ever truly liked James Ashley, but neither can I believe that he would be as cruel or as cowardly as to not have said or done anything.

As it was, he brought the books to the side room the next day, where I was going through the donations and sorting the sellable items from those things too broken, torn, stained, or just plain unusable. I had just set aside yet another jigsaw- this one with almost two thirds of the pieces obviously missing- when he knocked on the outer door. In spite of the heavy rain, he wasn’t wearing a coat, hat, or boots. He didn’t say a word to me when I opened it, just shouldered his way in, dropped a heavy cardboard box on the floor by the unsorted donations, and walked out again. He did this three more times, leaving the door swinging behind him, letting in strong gusts of wind and rain, and reinscribing a damp trail of rainwater on the carpeted floor. Then he was gone as abruptly as he had arrived.

Ashley had taken better care to protect the books from the rain than himself. The cardboard was soaked through, but the books inside had been wrapped in several layers of plastic sheeting. They were stacked upright, and had been fitted in without any attempt to force too many into a single space. They were all, without exception, worn, faded, and almost completely without interest. Paperback romances long since out of print, old text books, children’s encyclopedias. It was rather a relief, if I’m honest. I could just reach into the boxes, grab a book, give it a flick through, and place it on the “for sale” pile.

I was about halfway through the last box when my fingers brushed something that did not feel at all like paper. It was dense and yielding, and ever so slightly damp. I recoiled, shock and disgust crawling their prickling way up my arm. My fingers looked clean, but the ghost feeling of something sticky still clung to them.

My first thought that it was some nasty practical joke. That Ashley, stung by his mother’s willingness to give away his stock, had put something disgusting in there by way of relieving his feelings. But that would have been ridiculous- he was a grown man, for goodness sakes, not a slighted child. It was more likely that the plastic keeping the books wrapped up had slipped, and allowed the rain to seep in through the sides. That was the more likely explanation.

It seemed as though I was right when I looked into the box properly, and saw nothing there but more books. But when I reached in again, all I felt was rough, dry paper. Confused, I went through the contents more slowly, looking where I placed my hand and at the books I chose.

I didn’t feel it again until the fifth book I picked up, that same almost-damp feeling. It was broad and set in landscape, almost like a sketchbook. It was dense with pages all jammed together- dense and heavy. It flopped bonelessly in my hand, and I needed to support it from underneath before I could read the title.

Hymnal, it read. The gold letters gleamed wetly on the slick cover.

It appeared to be full of sheet music. No titles or lyrics, just scratched staves and notes that meandered up and down the lines as though drunk. The smell that rose from the pages as I turned them was odd and unpleasant. I wondered if the leather binding them hadn’t been properly cured. Those areas of page that weren’t covered in music were full of sketches, but so dense and overlapping that I couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. And, I realised with an unpleasant start, the cover beneath my hands was warm, as though I was touching a live thing.

Suddenly, I’d had enough. I was sitting here, working myself up over an old, graffitied book for no good reason. I shut the thing hurriedly, and it snapped closed with a heavy slithering of pages. I caught the soft part of my forefinger on one of them, and a tiny bead of scarlet began to well from the wound. The stinging was welcome- it gave me something to focus on, mundane annoyance drowning out the confusion that had been threatening to become fear.

I dropped the book onto the discard pile. I couldn’t sell something like that, that much was obvious. Then I picked it up again, and dashed through the rain to the rubbish bins outside. I tossed it in, and followed it up with as much of the discard pile as I could bag up in one go, burying the thing underneath threadbare scarves, broken plastic dolls, and half used art supplies.

I felt a little better when it was done, but not much. Whatever those hymns were praising, I don’t think it was Our Lord.

The cut on my finger didn’t heal like it should. It stopped bleeding without any trouble, but the edges became raised, reddened and sensitive to the touch. I dabbed at it with antiseptic and did my best to put it out of my mind. I succeeded at first. I had plenty to keep me busy, both at church and at my workplace, and for a day or two, I completely forgot about it.

At least until it opened up again.

I don’t remember what caused it, or if anything caused it at all. Just that I was reaching for something, and there was the feeling of… unpeeling, almost, the cold feeling of fresh air on wet skin. I checked to see if the cut was bleeding again.

Instead of a cut, I found myself looking at a tiny, fully formed mouth.

The raised, reddened edges I had thought were a sign of infection had become minute lips. They were slightly parted, and behind them I could see the tiniest slivers of white. And behind that, a dark space where something wet shifted.

I didn’t look at it for long. Already I was reaching for the first aid kit, hastily covering the cut- the mouth- with a plaster. I was already convincing myself that what I’d just seen was some kind of infection I was too squeamish to look at, and that since I couldn’t feel any pain, I should probably go to the doctors, in case it was nerve damage or something. The impression of having seen a mouth rather than a cut was an unpleasant trick my mind had played on me, and one I didn’t feel like closely examining. I told myself I had imagined it.

I hadn’t, though. I could taste the soft fabric patch on the plaster.

I really did mean to go to the doctors. Mouth or no mouth, whatever was happening to the cut on my finger worried me. I even got as far as making an appointment. But the next day I went into work, and there was an accident involving a slippery patch of floor and a very, very sharp knife that I was carrying at the time. I ended up with a nasty slice parallel with the underside of my ribcage.

This time, it was obvious how quickly it stopped bleeding, how it was practically dry before I even changed the gauze once. How the scabs began to flake before I even touched them, leaving nothing but those raised, reddening edges around the cut itself.

I didn’t go to that doctor’s appointment. I don’t think it would have helped me if I had.

It took longer for the second cut to open, but when it did, I could stand in front of the mirror to properly see the flat, white, human teeth, and the tongue that moved behind them.

It didn’t feel alien. That’s what surprised me most. I was scared, of course I was scared, I was growing new bits, opening up in places that I shouldn’t- but that was just it. It was my body doing this, not some… weird infection or surgery. Whatever was happening, it felt like an extension of myself.

I could move them, I found. Not as consciously as I could my original mouth, the one in its proper position on my face, but sort of like moving a limb after it’s fallen asleep. It took concentration, like I was working through partial numbness. Like I needed to focus to wake them up.

I didn’t spend very long doing that, though. I would realise with a start that what I was doing wasn’t normal, it wasn’t sane. I would pull my shirt back down or re-plaster my finger with a feeling almost like shame. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been, and that in itself was somehow a lot more frightening.

I’m not clumsy. I can’t be, considering the sharp tools I have to handle at work. But I started to accumulate injuries. Innocuous things at first. Paper cuts from the prayer books during mass, scrapes from the edges of the metal benches at work. And then other things. Pushing down a door-handle would lay my palm open as though I’d been struck with a metal ruler. The pressure of my jacket across my shoulders would tear the skin. I woke in bed one morning to discover that the folded sheets around me had left cuts going from my hip to my collar bone.

Every single one of them bled, reddened, and opened.

The mouths started to become restless as their number grew. They tried to chew on the clothes I wore to cover them, and if I didn’t focus, they would let out soft, but audible moans or sighs. I tried to quiet them. I even tried feeding them, though I only did that once. It seemed to help, but the mangled sensation of swallowing with a throat that seemed to be lodged under my right kidney was so disorienting I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.

I hadn’t stopped going out altogether. I left the house less, certainly, but as uncertain and uncomfortable as my changing existence was, I didn’t want to give up the company of other people altogether. I get lonely easily.

So, one Friday, when when there was so little skin left under my clothes and gloves that no new mouths could easily form, I patched my face and neck with gauze, and went to take my place in the choir again.

Nobody really seemed to notice anything different about me. I had all the right stories lined up for when I was asked about what had happened to my face, but almost nobody did. A few condolences, a few jokes, and that was it. People apparently preferred to gossip about the death of Mrs Ashley, and how her James had stopped coming to church now, and how they had known his heart wasn’t in it all along.

It felt awful. There I was, standing in the middle of them, skin to skin almost, with the most fragile disguise imaginable hiding a secret that would ruin their perception of the world for good- and they were too wrapped up in their own smug assurance of their own piety to notice. I offered up a brief prayer for patience, but like all my prayers lately, I don’t think I was offering it to the God whose praises we’d all gathered to sing.

And when we raised our voices together for All Things Bright And Beautiful, and I opened my mouth to join in, and then opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again- I wasn’t singing praises to that God either.

I didn’t realise that the others had stopped at first. It wasn’t until I glanced to one side, and saw Julie Wright staring at me with her powerless mouth open and unmoving, that I realised I was singing in harmony with myself.

I broke off, suddenly embarrassed and frightened by the way that they were all looking at me. There was something like awe in their expressions, but there was something else there too. Something that shuddered and recoiled. I desperately tried to remember the words I’d been singing, if I had gotten them right. I had the horrible sense that I might have subverted something holy.

Adam Bromley was the one to break the silence.

“Well now. You never told us you were getting private training!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The unexpressed disgust sank back beneath their faces, and the others took up the idea almost with relief. A beautiful voice, they told me, what trick did they teach me to make it resonate like that? I forced a smile and said something non-committal and when we took up the tune again, I was careful to sing only the words that were on the page in front of me.

My own relief was short-lived. When I got home, I found the skin I had left was being pulled apart by the restless movements of the mouths. Blood stained the underside of my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the moans and hissings any more than I could have controlled a spasm or a muscular tic.

I didn’t sleep that night, and called in sick to work the next day. I lay on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to move.

It wasn’t any use. My skin had become so fragile that even getting up and walking to the kitchen caused it to split, the blood barely having time to dry before the wound began to twitch and whisper. All my fascination was gone now, as were all my attempts to ignore what was happening. All I did was lie on the bed, and let myself slowly drown in my own body. I lived like that for a week.

When next Friday evening came, my entire body burst into song.

I writhed and moaned and hummed without will, without choice, throwing out snatches of hymn before discarding them as not what I wanted, not right. And for the first time, the indistinct murmurs and whispers grew louder, began to form words. Prayers that had been chewed out of shape, pleas for more, more mouths, more brothers and sisters, to come out of hiding and join the great curdling of flesh.

This went on for the entire night.

That was when I decided that I needed to do something. I’d let… whatever this was go on for too long, long beyond the point of saving myself. But I wanted to tell someone first. So I dragged myself to my computer, and searched as best I could. It’s difficult to type with only a confusion of tongues.

And that’s where you came in. You aren’t special. You were just the closest place that didn’t either ignore my emails, or reply with not so gentle suggestions that I see a psychologist.

I don’t think I’ll be leaving my home again, once I get back. I doubt I’ll even bother uncovering, although there’s no-one there to see me. For all that I wanted to let someone know, I don’t want to be seen.

The cupboard below the stairs locks from the inside. I can push the key out from underneath the crack in the door.

Whatever is happening to me, I won’t allow it come to fruition.

Post-statement follow-up: There wasn’t anyone under the stairs when I went to check. The lock on cupboard door was broken, and so was the one on the back door. Either Ms Ness was, um… successful in her attempts to… halt her transformation, and a housebreaker with some seriously questionable motives took what was- what was left of her. Or she wasn’t. And her resolve either waned or the situation was, um. Taken out of her hands. Or. Whatever she had instead of hands.

I wasn’t… going to record this. It’s not my job, strictly speaking, but I was reading some of the old statements, and this one just… sort of caught my eye. And I’ve seen the Archivist and some of the others do recordings, and it just looked so… I wanted to try it out. I’ll be taking the tape with me, though. None of the others need to know about this.