#I hope this all makes sense. this is the only way I can reconcile this in my head because siri never taking another padawan is important.

[specialagentartemis]

godddddd i have disliked becky chambers' work since long way to a small angry planet and I agree that that fish scene is SO much of what is wrong with contemporary SFF especially queer SFF. refreshing take, great review, thank you. would love to hear what authors or works you think of as the antidote to that sensibility.

The thing is, I enjoyed The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet when I first read it - it was a fun, light adventure, clearly a debut novel but I was excited to see where Chambers would go from there. And I actually really do think the sequel, A Closed and Common Orbit, was good! It did interesting things with AI personhood and identity.

... and then Chambers just kinda. Did not get better. She settled into a groove and has a set number of ideas that I feel like she hasn't broken out of, creatively. And they I M O kind of rest on an assumption that "human nature" = "how people act in suburban California."

As an antidote to that sensibility, I'd say... books where people have a real interrelationship with the land they inhabit, a sense of being present, and reciprocal obligations to that land; books that recognize that some things can never be taken back once done; books with well-drawn characters, where people have strong opinions deeply informed by their circumstances, that can't always be easily reconciled with others, and won't be brushed aside; books where these character choices matter, they impact each other, they cannot be easily gotten over, because people have obligations to each other and not-acting is a choice too.

And it's only fair that after all day of being a Hater I should rec some books I really did like.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke - A man lives alone in an infinite House, over an equally infinite ocean. Captures the feeling that I think Monk & Robot was aiming for. Breathtaking beauty, wonder at the world, philosophy of truth, all that good stuff, and actually sticks the landing. The main character's love, attention, and care to his fantasy environment shows through in every page. (Fantasy, short novel)

Imperial Radch by Ann Leckie - An AI, the one fragment remaining of a destroyed imperial spaceship, is on a quest for revenge. Leckie gets cultural differences and multiculturalism, and conversely, what the imposition of a homogeneous culture in the name of unity means. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

Machineries of Empire by Yoon Ha Lee - An army captain's insubordination is punished by giving her a near-impossible mission: to take down a rebelling, heretical sect holing up in a space fortress and defying imperial power. She gets a long dead brain-ghost of a notorious criminal downloaded into her head to help. Very, very good at making you feel like every doomed soldier was a person with a past, with a family, with feelings, with hopes and dreams and frustrations and favorites and preferences and reasons to live, right before they brutally die in a space war. Also very much about the imposition of homogeneity of culture as a force of imperialism. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

The Fortunate Fall by Cameron Reed - Maya Andreyevna is a VR journalist in high-tech dystopian future Russia, and she decides to investigate the truth that the government doesn't want her to. She might die trying. It's fine. Also has digital brain-sharing, this time in a gay way. It's bleak. It's sad. It feels real. Not making a choice is a choice. Backing out is a choice. And choices have consequences. Choices reverberate through history. About responsibility. (Cyberpunk, novel)

The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez - Nia Imani is a spaceship captain, a woman out of time, a woman running from her past, and accidentally adopts a boy who has a strange power that could change the galaxy. Spaceship crew-as-found-family in the most heartbreaking of ways. Also about choices, how the choices you make and refuse to make shape you and shape the world around you. How the world is always changing around you, how the world does not stay still when you're gone, and when you come back you're the same but the world has moved on around you. About how relationships aren't always forever, and that doesn't mean they weren't important. About responsibility to others. It's a slow, sad book and does not let anyone rest on their laurels, ever. There is no end of history here. Everything is always changing, on large scales and small, and leaving you behind. (Space sci-fi, novel)

Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui - A D&D style fantasy dungeon crawl that stops to think deeply about why there are so many dungeons full of monsters and treasure just hanging around. Here because it's an example of an author thinking through her worldbuilding a lot, and it mattering. Also because of the characters' respect for the animals they are are killing and eating, their lives and their place in the ecosystem, and the ways that humans both fuck up ecosystems with extraction and tourism, but also the ways that you can have reciprocal relationships of responsibility and care with the ecosystem you live in, even if it's considered a dangerous one. (Fantasy, manga series)

Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang and How Long 'Til Black Future Month by N. K. Jemisin and Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe - Short story anthologies that were SO good and SO weird and rewired the way I think. If you want the kind of stuff that is like, the opposite of easy-to-digest feel-good pap, these short stories will get into your brain and make you consider stuff and look at the world from new angles. Most of them aren't particularly upbeat, but there's a lot of variety in the moods.

"Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation of the Self," "Calf Cleaving in the Benthic Black," and "Termination Stories for the Cyberpunk Dystopia Protagonist" by Isabel J. Kim - Short stories, sci-fi mostly, that twist around in my head and make me think. Kim is very good at that. Also about choices and not-making-choices, about going and staying, about taking the easy route or the hard one, about controlling the narrative.

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells - Security robot with guns in its arms hacks itself free from its oppressive company, mostly wants to half-ass its job but gets sucked into drama, intrigue, and caring against its better judgement. This is on here because 1) I love it 2) I feel like it does for me what cozy sff so frequently fails to do - it makes me feel seen and comforted. It's hopeful and compassionate and about personal growth and finding community and finding one's place in the world, without brushing aside all problems or acting like "everybody effortlessly just gets along" is a meaningful proposal. also 3) because it is one of the few times I have yet seen characters from a hippie, pacifistic, eco-friendly, welcoming, utopian society actually act like people. The humans from Preservation are friendly, helpful, and motivated by truth and justice and compassion, because they come from a friendly, just, compassionate society, and they still actually act like real human beings with different personalities and conflicting opinions and poor reactions to stress and anger and frustration and fear and the whole range of human emotions rather than bland niceness. Also 4) I love it (space sci-fi, novella series mostly)

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.8k (barely proof read </3)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife and Pregnant!Reader, angst…like heavy angst, family issues (Kenji’s daddy issues, shocker), emotional breakdown, crying, Reader has a small accident (she’s in her third trimester), somewhat satisfying ending….

𝐀/𝐍: *grabs your shirt and looks at you dead in the eye* girl, if you knew how much I busted my ass for this fic—

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While Kenji grapples with the pressure of becoming a father, he receives an unexpected invite from his own.

Kenji sat still on the couch with the latest images of the ultrasound staring back at him in his hands. His finger traced over the picture, lingering on the tiny form of the baby.

Despite the due date being a couple of months away, he still couldn’t fully grasp the reality of soon becoming a father. Each kick and shift he would feel from your growing stomach was a reminder of the new life that would soon be dependent on him.

He felt a series of emotions— anticipation, a hint of anxiety, but most of all, excitement. Kenji’s mind wandered to the future, imagining the day when he would hold his baby for the first time.

For a long time, he had always adopted the ‘cross the bridge when I get there’ mindset, never fully prepared for the far future. But the moment you told him you were pregnant, his fatherly instincts already took over his mind— it had been a messy journey for the both of you, adjusting to this new chapter in your marriage.

You, sensing his preoccupation, gave him a look; a signal he had come to recognise as a precursor to important news.

But, that was only the beginning. A boulder dropped in a pail of stagnant water, creating ripples that disrupted the quiet flow of your lives

“Don’t be mad,” you said cautiously. Kenji felt skeptical about what you were going to say— his eyes scanned your face, trying to gauge what was coming.

“What did you do?” he said slowly. Usually, when you would say this, it would be something minor, like misplacing his best baseball bat or rearranging his meticulously organised items. Anything that was easily fixable.

But what you said next felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him.

“I invited your dad over.”

He froze in his seat. For a moment, he didn’t say anything as he struggled to process your words.

His dad? Coming over?

Nothing could have prepared him for that. He hadn’t spoken to that man in years, and now, all of a sudden he wanted to come over. What was his motivation?

“Why did you invite him?” he asked, trying to conceal his frustration.

“He tried to call through Mina. I couldn’t ignore him.”

Kenji swallowed thickly, clenching his fist slightly “And when exactly is he coming?”

“Tonight.”

Kenji just pinched the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. There was no point wasting time arguing, especially when his father was due in a few hours. “Yeah, okay, fine. He can come over, I guess,”

“Are you mad?” You asked. His expression softened. He could never be mad at you. He knew this day would come eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be now, with a baby on the way. Maybe that was why his father wanted to come over.

“No, no. I’m not mad.” He cradled your face reassuringly. “Just a little annoyed, but I’ll be fine. He can come. I’ll greet him and then I’ll stay in our room until he leaves.”

Your face dropped in disappointment. “What?”

“Exactly as I said.” Kenji didn’t know what you were expecting from this. For him to reconcile with his father after years of silence? What a joke. “I’m not gonna sit with that guy for hours while he’s here.”

“That’s not how I imagined things would go.” Your face fell further, giving him a sullen look, hoping to coax him into changing his perspective.

“What did you expect me to do? Sit there for hours and make small talk?” Kenji scoffed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last talked to him?”

He felt he was already being courteous by allowing his father inside. That was more than enough. He didn’t owe him anything else.

“He might help you with being a dad and give you some advice.”

Kenji almost laughed at that. Oh, the irony. His father was the last person to give him parenting advice. “No. I don’t need his advice. I can figure this out on my own. Don’t you understand?”

The rest of the day flew by, and the evening rolled in quicker than Kenji anticipated. Each hour that passed knotted the tension in his chest, making it harder to breathe properly.

Soon, there was an alert of a visitor outside the Ultrabase. Kenji let out a tired sigh, “I’ll…I’ll answer it.”

He rose from the bed and padded his way to the front door. His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know what to expect. He took a few deep breaths to calm his erratic heart before finally opening the door.

Kenji’s mood immediately soured when he finally made eye contact with his father. Seeing him for the first time in years sent an icy feeling through him.

“Dad…” he greeted, keeping his voice controlled.

“Kenji…it’s been a while, son.” Hayao said cautiously. Kenji towered over his father’s frame, noticing the crutches beside him. Despite the height difference, Hayao seemed smaller and more vulnerable with his old age

If the situation were different, Kenji would have only opened the door enough to fit his head out, blocking his father’s view of the inside. In fact, he might have not answered the door at all. He wouldn’t have allowed him access back into life. To keep that chasm between father and son.

But he knew that you were expecting him, so he opened the door wider and stood to the side to make room. “I suppose you should come in.”

Just as expected, you were standing beside him, waiting patiently to finally meet the unsolicited guest.

“Professor Sato.” You gave your warmest smile.

Hayao turned his attention to you as he stepped further into your house. This was the first time you saw each other face to face since he hadn’t attended the wedding. If only the situation didn’t feel so stiff, Kenji would’ve been thrilled for you to meet his dad.

He watched his father’s gaze shift to your growing belly as you rested your hands on it. Kenji’s protective instinct flared.

“Ah, hello dear. I must say, you are positively glowing.” Hayao complimented.

“I’m sorry for the short invite.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I can tell I’ve come unannounced…but the sooner I see my grandchild, the better.”

His grandchild? The possessive pronoun left a bitter taste in Kenji’s mouth. It stung that his father was now trying to insert himself into their lives.

“Just a few months to go,” you said, trying to maintain a calm tone. Hayao reached over to place his hand on your bump. Kenji’s first instinct was to swat his hand away and tell him not to touch his wife.

But he held himself back, and allowed you to handle the situation. You didn’t pull away and let Hayao feel the baby’s movements.

“And how is the baby doing? Kicking a lot…I assume?” Hayao asked.

“Yeah, they’re very active,” you replied with a light laugh.

“Ah, I can imagine the little one must be feisty.”

Kenji stood off to the side, silently observing the interaction. He hadn’t moved an inch from the doorway as his dad interacted with you so casually.

His face morphed into a bitter rage, not understanding why his father was acting so excited and caring about your child. They hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here he was, acting as if nothing had happened.

He was probably only doing it to avoid causing an uncomfortable scene in front of you, much to Kenji’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into his family issues.

Hayao spoke again, completely oblivious to Kenji’s inner turmoil, “Any idea on the sex yet?”

You shook your head, still holding your excited expression. You didn’t have anyone to share the news with, so Kenji couldn’t blame you for your giddiness. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”

Kenji clenched his jaw. He didn’t like the way Hayao was observing your growing belly. “You know, you remind me of my wife when she was pregnant. She always had a glow, even at the last phase.”

Kenji felt like he had just been dunked in a tub of ice. It hadn’t even been a minute, and already his father is bringing up his mother. But what his father said next did not sit right with him.

“I have some experience in the field of pregnancy. Some challenges might come up. But don’t worry, I’m here to help any way I can.”

No thanks.

“Thank you.” You said, your gratitude seemed genuine. “Uhm, do you want to take a seat? I’ll bring some tea,”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” Hayao smiled and sat down on one of the couches, making himself comfortable. His eyes flickered back at Kenji who hadn't said a word yet. “Actually, do you mind if I speak with Kenji for a few minutes in private?”

“Of course. I’ll get the tea ready,” you left before disappearing in the kitchen, leaving Kenji alone with his father.

The floor felt like hot coal. So much for escaping his dad’s presence in the bedroom. Hayao waited until you were out of sight before he turned to face Kenji.

“I’m glad you didn’t walk out the second I showed up. Your wife is very kind…” He paused, waiting to see if Kenji would say anything. He gave no response, so Hayao asked, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”

“What do you want to talk about, Dad?”

“I want to talk about us. You and I. We’ve been…distant for a long time,”

That was putting it lightly, but Kenji held his tongue. His father was probably already aware of that.

“Dad…it’s been twenty years. Twenty years of you suddenly becoming distant from us. You never were around when Mom and I needed you,”

Twenty years. To his father, it might seem like just a fraction of his life, given his old age— a couple of decades.

But to Kenji, those two decades were everything. It was enough time for him to nearly erase his father from his thoughts entirely.

“I know it’s been a long time, but I’m here now, trying to make amends and make up for lost time.”

“Amends? You can’t just show up and expect everything to be fine, Dad. Do you think you can mend everything with just some apologies and small talk?”

“I know it won't fix everything. But I want to be a part of your life again, especially now with my grandchild on the way,”

“So that’s what it’s about? You’re only here because of the baby. Where were you when I was growing up? Why did you stay in Japan and leave me and Mom in America?”

“I always thought about you, Kenji. Always keep an eye on you from afar.” Hayao said gently. “But I admit, the thought of becoming a grandparent has made me realise the importance…the importance of family.”

If he kept an eye on him from afar, why couldn’t he be there in person? Why wasn’t he l there face-to-face, especially when it mattered most? Why wait twenty years?

Hayao continued. “I want to make it up to you, be there for you and for your child.”

Kenji stayed silent after that. The conversation wasn't going anywhere, and there were many unresolved issues that needed to be addressed if any real progress was to be made.

His mind was conflicted with his warring thoughts. One one hand, there was a lingering fear about letting his father in which will lead to further disappointment and pain.

On the other hand, despite harboring a deep resentment towards his father, there was a small part of him that hoped that this might be a chance to heal old wounds.

“Kenji! Can you help me with the tea please?” Your voice tore through the suspension in the room, making Kenji’s suffocation disappear.

“Yeah, coming,” he called back, casting one last glance at his father before heading to the kitchen, leaving the tension in the living room behind.

Kenji found you attending the water on the stove with a teapot and three mugs on a tray. Being in the kitchen with you, away from his father felt like a breath of fresh air— the tension in his shoulders ebbed away, replaced by the comforting normalcy of being alone with you.

“Soo…how’s it going?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“It’s…going I guess.” Kenji sighed deeply. “Talking to my dad is harder than I thought it would be.” He hadn’t fully grasped how many old wounds will be torn open just from his father's presence alone.

“Kenji.” Your voice softened. Kenji's gaze fixated on the hand that was resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.

He brought his hand to hold yours as if anchoring himself. “Yeah…?”

“I know it’s tough, especially with your mom not being around anymore. And I know I don’t know the full story of your childhood and your pain…but he’s the only family we have.”

“Yeah, I know but it’s not easy. It’s hard to trust him when he hasn't been around for twenty years.”

“Do you think you could give him a chance?” You paused for a moment before you added, “If not for yourself, then at least for the baby. I really want them to know their grandparents,” you pleaded, your voice laced with hope.

Kenji closed his eyes as he processed your words. The thought of rebuilding a relationship with his father seems like an insurmountable task, a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

But, he knew how important this was for you, especially with your parents not around anymore. You wanted the baby to have a connection with their family, which also meant including everyone.

He opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him, waiting patiently for his response. It took a few seconds for him to trust himself to answer, “I…I’ll try, for you and the baby. But honestly, no promises.”

“That’s all I want to hear.” you said, your smile warm and comforting, “I love you…”

Kenji’s heart soared at that, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you too.”

You leaned closer until your lips captured his. Kenji felt his world stop the moment he felt your lips. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

After a moment, he pulled his lips away but he still held you close, resting his forehead on yours. A hint of a smile tugged on his lips but his voice didn’t hide the vulnerability he was feeling, “I’ll try and hear him out, but I know it’s not gonna be a walk in the park.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he kept it to himself, instead turning his attention to helping you in the kitchen. He took over brewing the tea, carefully pouring it into the teapot. He made sure not to accidentally jostle you while he set up the tray.

“Thanks for being patient with me, and for understanding. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Kenji murmured, his voice carrying his gratitude.

“Thank you for not being mad at me for answering his call,” you replied. You were trying to be lighthearted, but he could sense the underlying concern— there was no doubt that you were anxious about how he’d react to the news about his dad

“How can I be mad at you for that? I know you meant well. You just want what’s best for our family.”

“He kept calling, I couldn’t ignore him.”

“I know, you’re too kind for your own good sometimes, you know that.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But seriously, you gotta stop answering unknown calls. Never know who’s on the other line.”

You laughed softly before placing the teapot on the tray. “Do you think I should make anything else?”

Kenji glanced back at the tray with the mugs and the teapot. “Nah, I think what you’ve got is plenty. The old man probably had enough caffeine today anyways.”

“Do you want me to go with you this time?”

Kenji nodded. He knew that having you there with him would make the conversation with his dad easier, especially when he felt on edge. “Yeah, let’s go. And if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay?

Carrying the tray, Kenji felt his nerves calming as you walked beside him. Your quiet support was a steady force, and with your presence, he felt ready to face whatever conversation awaited in the living room.

He matched his steps to yours, moving slowly and carefully so you wouldn’t fall behind. The moment you stepped into the living room, Hayao straightened up, glancing back at your growing belly— which didn't escape Kenji’s notice.

He set the tray down on the table and took a seat on the couch, deliberately keeping his distance from his father.

“I hope green tea is okay for you,” you said, pouring the tea into Hayao’s cup before filling the other two mugs for yourself and Kenji.

Hayao nodded politely, steam curling from the rim as he picked up the cup with the freshly brewed tea. “Yes, thank you. Green tea is fine, I appreciate your hospitality,”

Kenji took his cup and leaned back against the couch, watching the exchange between you and his father. He was grateful the conversation wasn’t circling back to him. Right now, he needed a break from the emotional push and pull.

He kept his expression guarded, making no attempt to interrupt or intervene between the two of you, though he couldn’t ignore the swirl of conflicted emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“So…I hope you don’t mind me being here now,” you said sheepishly.

“No it’s not a bother. This tea is lovely, by the way. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s all homemade,”

“Ah, that explains why it’s good. My son is very lucky indeed,” Hayao said. Kenji could pick up on the hesitation in his father’s voice, as if he was carefully choosing each word, trying to not overstep.

But the simple topic of your homemade tea seemed to have thawed some of the ice. Hayao took another sip from his cup, his eyes on you as you continued the small talk.

“How are you feeling, though? I imagine pregnancy isn’t easy on the body,”

“Well…I would be a mess without Kenji.” You admitted, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Kenji’s heart throbbed at the gesture.

The ice melted further.

He felt you squeeze his hands softly, a silent nudge to encourage him to join the conversation. He steeled himself before he found his voice. “She’s just being modest. She’s been braving through morning sickness, swollen feet, and all the cravings like a champion,”

“That does sound like a journey. You have a strong woman there, Kenji.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m grateful everyday.” The pride in his voice was palpable, filling the space between them. Even Hayao could feel it from where he was sitting.

“I can see that. Your mother would be very proud to see the man you’ve become.”

And just like that, the ice quickly solidified again.

The words struck Kenji like a blow, his grip tightening around his mug. The pressure in his chest increased as the mention of his mother stirred memories he wasn’t ready to confront.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his voice controlled. “Dad…don’t,” he managed, his tone a mixture of warning and plea.

Hayao noticed the shift immediately, but he didn’t backpedal from the subject. There was a hint of remorse in his eyes, with his voice gentle but firm. “I know it’s a sensitive topic, Kenji. But I meant what I said. She would be proud of the family you’re building right now.”

He couldn’t deny the truth in his dads words, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The pain was still raw. The topic was still too heavy for him to fully address at the moment.

“I…I need some air,” he muttered, rising abruptly from the couch. The connection between your hands broke, leaving your fingers grasping at empty space.

“Kenji…” you called after him, your voice laced with concern. Your hand looked empty without his. Kenji quickly teared his gaze away.

“I need a moment. I’ll be back,” the words came out more rushed than intended.

A hint of guilt tugged in his heart as he left without another word. He pushed past the door with the cool night air slapped against his face. The door closed behind him with a solid thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence he left behind.

Kenji slumped onto one of the cold stone benches in the courtyard, dropping his head in his palms. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wished his mother was here right now. She would know exactly what to say, how to untangle the knot of emotions tightening in his chest.

Since the day of her disappearance, it felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void that nothing could fill. His entire world had darkened, but he forced himself to continue living, driven by a demanding career that wouldn’t allow him to pause, even when his heart was breaking.

And then things got more complicated. He had been thrusted back into Japan, not by choice but by obligation, to take up his father’s mantle as Ultraman. It was a role he never asked for, a burden he wasn’t ready to carry, especially not with the unresolved pain of his mother’s absence still weighing down on him.

But then he met you.

For the first time, he allowed himself to be swept away by someone who truly saw him, not just the hero or the star baseball player he was expected to be. You didn’t realise it, but you had a way of pulling him back from the edge. He wished he could tell you how much that meant to him, but he was never good at expressing it.

Now, with a child on the way— his child, who you were carrying and nurturing— he felt more helpless than ever. How could a baby rely on him when he couldn’t even keep his own emotions in check? How could he be a father when he crumbled at the mere mention of his mother?

The soft sound of the door opening could be heard from behind, but Kenji didn’t bother to look up. He knew it was you. His father wouldn’t be so thoughtless as to follow him after what had just happened.

“Kenji?” you called out softly, your footsteps growing closer. Kenji didn’t respond, his face still buried in his palm.

“Oh, Ken…” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. Kenji let out a weary sigh but didn’t look up.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Dad?” His voice came out rough, his irritation from earlier still simmering.

You sat down beside him, the bench cool beneath you. “No…not with you feeling like this,”

Kenji’s shoulders tensed, still refusing to meet your gaze. He was trembling slightly, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“I’m fine.” he said through gritted teeth, an obvious contradiction to his current state.

“Not with that tone, you’re not.”

“And so what if I’m not fine? What’s it to you anyways?” He snapped, his voice sharp like a razor blade. He regretted it immediately, hating himself for directing his frustration at you. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his messy relationship with his father.

But you could see right through his bullshit, as always. “Come here.” you coaxed, your voice soft and inviting. Kenji hesitated, his eyes flickered up to yours for the first time. He saw the warmth in your gaze that seemed to glow even under the darkness of the night with your open arms waiting to embrace him.

For a moment, his stubbornness kept him rooted in place, his pride demanding to stay strong, stay distant. But the comfort you offered was too tempting.

He turned his gaze away. “Why should I?”

“Let me hold you.” you whispered, arms still open for him.

Kenji looked back at you again, feeling his resolve weaken. He knew he couldn’t resist you— not when you were offering him the solace he desperately craved. He’d be a fool to reject it. With a heavy sigh, he gave in.

“Fine…” he shifted himself closer until he was in your embrace. He rested his head against your chest, his body relaxed as your warmth surrounded him.

The soft curve of your pregnancy bump nestled between the two of you, a reminder of the life brewing inside of you.

“Oh Kenji…” you murmured, gently stroking his face as he nuzzled into your neck. The rhythm of your heartbeat and the presence of the baby’s bump had a grounding effect on him. You felt like home— everything he needed right now.

The remorse from his earlier harsh tone towards you, combined with the aching absence of his mother, came crashing down. It was enough to shatter his pride as he leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice quivering with emotion.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you rubbed his back, soothing his frying nerves.

He didn’t realise how stiff his body was until he finally allowed him to relax in your embrace. It was rare for him to be this vulnerable, but being held like this in your arms, it was easy to let his guard down.

All the pent up pain and suffering he’d been carrying for years finally found release through his tears. He let out a soft sob against your neck, the fabric of your shirt growing damp.

After a long, quiet moment, you spoke again, “This is going to be more complicated than I imagined.”

“It’s all so complicated,” he echoed.

“I know…do you think we can resolve things before the baby arrives?”

“I..I don’t think I can fix everything…not with all that’s happening. But I don’t want our child to grow up in a house filled with tension.” Kenji admitted slowly.

“Me neither,” you agreed, the shared concern binding you closer.

“I’ll try. I’ll try to fix things. But I don’t even know where to start…it’s been too long…” his voice wavered with the remnant of his sobs. Yet, for once, he didn’t feel embarrassed about it this time. The weight of responsibility to make things right for the baby was daunting.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, filling him with a sense of reassurance. “We don’t have to fix everything tonight.”

“…you’re right.”

“But maybe we can at least end things on a civil note.”

Kenji nodded mutely, still feeling the residue of his tears but more at peace with his emotions now.

He pulled away from you and wiped his face with the back of his hands, smearing the last of his tears away.

“Are you okay with going back inside, or do you need more time?” You asked gently.

Kenji took a few steady breaths, his crying fully subsided. He met your gaze, then glanced back at the house, a newfound sense of resignation washing over him. “I’m okay…let’s head back,”

“Okay….We don’t want to keep you dad waiting any longer,”

Kenji stood from his seat and soothed his hair, trying to make himself look a little more presentable. He knew his eyes were probably red, and he might still look a bit disheveled from crying, but he was ready to face what came next.

You both walked back into the living room, hand in hand. Hayao looked up as you returned and sat down, his eyes briefly flickering over Kenji’s appearance.

Kenji was grateful his father didn’t comment on his puffy eyes.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said apologetically.

Hayao shook his head, a weary smile on his lips. “No need to apologise, dear. It needed to happen.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment. Kenji’s muscles were still rigid and his fingers subconsciously gripped your hand a little tighter.

Hayao gaze flickered between the two of you. He let out a quiet sigh, his action heavy with regret. “I suppose I should start, hm?”

Kenji nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Both of your gazes bore onto Hayao, waiting for what he was about to say.

“I…I know I haven’t been the best father to you, Kenji. I’ve been hard on you, too focused on Ultraman…I’ve put too much pressure on you and neglected everything else.” Hayao said softly, sadness evident in his eyes.

Kenji felt a jolt of surprise listening to his father. He didn’t let his guard down fully, but hearing his father’s self-awareness stirred something in him. Maybe it was the unexpected acknowledgment of his shortcomings as a parent.

Hayao continued, “Looking back, I realised I've made a lot of mistakes. I’ve been more of a boss than a father,”

Kenji felt the weight of his dads words, his remorse clear in his voice. But Kenji knew that years of tension and resentment couldn’t be fixed with just a few words of apology.

“I…don’t expect forgiveness, of course. I know I can’t turn back time, but I wanted to apologise to both of you.”

Kenji struggled to find the right words until he felt the reassuring grip of your hand, your thumb gently stroking over his knuckles. The small gesture helped calm some of the tension.

Finally, he spoke, his voice slightly strained, “I…I appreciate the apology, Dad. It’s a start.”

The rest of the conversation revolves around the future and the baby, with the interaction feeling more natural. The tension between Kenji and Hayao had eased somewhat.

At one point, Hayao asked about how Kenji planned to juggle his career, fatherhood and his Ultraman duties. Kenji explained that you’d both discussed this early in your marriage and were ready to handle the challenges.

But the conversation was cut short when you let out a sudden hiss from pain. Immediately, Kenji’s full attention was on you on high alert.

“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. When you didn’t respond right away, his worry deepened.

“Is it the baby kicking?” he asked.

You nodded, struggling to speak through the discomfort.

Kenji placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice soft but steady. “Easy, take a deep breath. The kicks might feel uncomfortable, but it’s a good sign the baby’s healthy.”

“Ah…Ken…ji…” you stuttered, the pain evident in your voice. His brows furrowed with worry, and instinctively rubbed circles over your belly.

“I’m here,” he reassured you. “Do you need anything? Water? Some more pillows?”

He almost forgot about his dad’s presence until he quickly stood from his seat and approached you. His expression was serious, his eyes flickering back to you and you bump.

“I’m going to get you a warm compress. It might help ease some of the discomfort,” Hayao said quickly, his voice still firm.

“Yeah…ah, okay.” You managed.

Hayao nodded and left the room to fetch the warm compress. Kenji stayed beside you, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Just hang in there okay? You’re doing great. We’re almost through the third trimester and it’ll all be worth it.”

“Kenji…”

His heart skipped a beat. “Is the pain getting worse?”

“I feel something wet,”

Kenji froze. You couldn’t possibly mean…? No. He had to ask if he heard that correctly.

“Wet? Are you sweating or…?” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. He didn’t want to think about your water breaking now, especially when you still had several weeks until your due date.

“Where’s Hayao?”

Kenji’s stress only deepened further when you didn’t answer his question. “Dad’s still getting the compress…are you sure you’re feeling something wet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…don’t panic. We’ll figure this out. Do you feel any cramps or contractions?”

You shook your head. But there was still the matter of the wet sensation.

Kenji glanced towards the door, where his dad had disappeared. Whether he liked it or not, he really needed his dad right now— someone with experience, even if their relationship were strained.

He gazed back at you, his hands on your bump. “I think I peed…” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.

Kenji blinked in surprise, then his lips twitched up into a smile. The stress that had been coiled right within him unraveled almost instantly. Relief washed over him, and he felt a sudden urge to laugh at the situation.

It was such a normal, human moment— a reminder that despite the chaos, you were both still two people trying to navigate through this together.

“Oh, thank God. For a second I thought…” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s okay, don’t worry. It happens sometimes during pregnancy, especially at this stage. Dad will be back with the compress for the kicks, alright? Just hang in there.”

“I feel gross,” you muttered, voice laced with frustration.

Kenji quickly shook his head immediately, his tone gentle and reassuring. “No, don’t say that. These things happen, it’s completely normal. You’re doing an amazing job.”

Just as he finished speaking, Hayao returned swiftly, the warm compress in his hand. “I’m back. What’s happening?”

Kenji’s gaze met his father’s, his expression stayed neutral, “She felt something wet, but she just accidentally peed herself a bit from the baby’s kicking,” Kenji explained. “She’s not experiencing any contractions, though.”

Too embarrassed to look up, you kept your head low, hiding your face behind your hands.

Hayao chuckled softly, his expression warm with understanding. “It’s okay, dear. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Hayao stepped forward with the compress and settled beside you. He placed the compress over your bump, the warmth seeping through the fabric. “This should help alleviate the kicking, at least a little.”

Kenji watched as your face softened, the tension in your body visibly uncoiling. He smiled tenderly, “See? The compress is working, huh?” You’ll feel better in no time,”

“My clothes are soiled…” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry about that,” Hayao reassured you.“We’ll get you cleaned up once everything’s under control, okay? For now, just focus on resting and letting the compress its job,”

Kenji nodded in agreement, “Once the kicking settles down, we’ll get you cleaned up. A nice shower and a change of fresh, dry clothes will make you feel a lot better,”

Kenji’s mind drifted back to everything that had transpired in the past few minutes�� from the moment you both stepped inside the house to now.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that crept in him as he observed his father handling the situation so seamlessly. Despite his fathers help being a relief, it also stirred some doubt within him: Was he doing enough for you?

The man who has always been distant was now stepping in. Was his father silently judging him?

The mixed emotions were overwhelming. On one hand, Kenji was grateful— he wasn’t alone when caring for you. On the other, it was unsettling to have his father step into the role Kenji had felt it was his to bear.

Could this be a change in their relationship, or was this just a temporary reprieve from the years of coldness?

There was no point in overthinking, Kenji thought to himself. Forcing things to change between them could do more harm than good. For now, it was best to let things evolve on its own.

Once the kicking had subsided and you were feeling more comfortable, Kenji carefully helped you to the bathroom. He waited as you emptied your bladder, then gently guided you into the shower.

After you were dressed in fresh clothes, Kenji led you to the bedroom. He helped you onto the bed, making sure you were settled in the right position for comfort. Your eyelids grew heavy as you slowly fell asleep.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your forehead. He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.

Outside he found his father waiting. The mere sight of him standing there brought back the knot of emotions Kenji had only just managed to unravel.

Kenji’s searched in his father’s expression for any hint of where things stood between them now. After a few heartbeats, Kenji opened his mouth to speak, his voice subdued.

“She’s asleep,” Kenji simply stated.

Hayao nodded, “That’s good, let her rest. She needs it after what happened tonight,”

Kenji exhaled, a heavy breath escaped him, “Yeah…I can’t help but worry for her. What if something serious had happened?”

Hayao’s tone was gentle as he replied, “I understand your worry. But she’s a strong one, and the baby is healthy. Trust in that, Kenji. She needs your support more than ever right now,”

Kenji knew his father was right, but his protective instincts that came with being both a husband and soon-to-be father made it difficult to fully ease his mind.

“You’re right, she is strong. I just…I just wish there was more I could do for her,” He glanced back at the door, thinking of you asleep inside. “I feel helpless sometimes, watching her go through all of this.”

Hayao placed his hand on Kenji’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. For once, Kenji didn’t feel the usual urge to flinch. Instead he welcomed the touch, finding an unexpected comfort in his father’s gestures.

“Believe me, I know how you feel. Watching the mother of your child go through pregnancy can be excruciating. But your support and your presence is the most important thing you can’t offer.”

This was something Kenji had never spoken about with anyone, not even with you. He kept his fear and doubts to himself, not wanting to burden you when you were focusing on nurturing the baby.

But now, standing with his father, he found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

But how ironic it was that he was comfortable enough to confide with his father— the same man that had once been a distant figure. But perhaps working together to ease your discomfort was what made things easier.

His father had been through this before, and likely, he had been just as uncertain and vulnerable. The realisation brought a surge of confidence in Kenji.

“I’ll be there for her,” Kenji said, more to himself than his father. “No matter what.”

A few hours later, Kenji got himself ready for bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been long and filled with unexpected turns, but finally, he could see the end of it. As he slid under the covers, he noticed you stirred, your eyes fluttering open.

Kenji smiled softly. “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re awake,” he murmured softly, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You slowly sat up, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes. “Groggy…” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep.

Kenji chuckled softly. “Groggy, huh? Well you did sleep for a while. Take your time.” He leaned closer, his concern slipping back into his voice. “How’s the baby? Any more kicking?”

You shook your head slightly, stretching your arms above you with your belly arching as your body moved. “Not at the moment,” you said with a small sigh. “Has your dad left?”

“Yeah, he mentioned he had some important calls to make back home,” Kenji hesitated for a moment, “Why? Are you feeling okay? Do you need something from him?”

“No,” you replied. “I just wanted to know how are things with him now,”

Kenji sighed, ranking a hand through his hair. “Things between me and dad have been, well, better than before. We’re still working through some stuff, but tonight…was different.”

“You both make a good team, you know. The way you were both quick to attend to my aches,” you said softly.

Kenji smiled, feeling a swell of emotions at your words— mostly pride mingled with relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Who knew a baby would bring us both together,” he rested his hands over your belly.

At that moment it dawned on him just how much the baby had done to bridge the gap between him and his father. This tiny unborn child had given them both a common purpose and a reason to put aside their differences and focused on what truly mattered.

You leaned against the pillows. “Come here,” you said, pulling him closer.

Kenji slipped further into the covers, his arms wrapped around you protectively. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in your comforting scent.

As you drifted back to sleep, Kenji held you close and ran his hand over your belly, his heart full.

He knew the road wasn’t going to be easy, but at that moment, he felt ready. If he could build a better relationship with his father, he felt like he could conquer anything, as long as you were by his side.

𝐓��𝐠𝐬: @gyusimp @aise-30 @popmagical @jellybonbons @coinduck

@rosaliin-blog @stfuchaase @blooscool @despacito-uwu16

Phew finally

Ayrus xoxo

[flanaganfilm]

Do you have any “don’t meet your heroes” stories from working in Hollywood?

Absolutely. Hollywood really is a place like no other. If you grow up loving cinema, certain people can take on mythic status in your imagination. Actors, filmmakers; they are larger than life. They become idols in the truest sense - an image that is actually worshipped. But Hollywood is actually full of very weird human beings who have been lucky enough to make their living in a world of make-believe. A huge percentage of the people who work in this industry are strange birds, unsuited for working anywhere else.

Some of our biggest stars wouldn't last ten minutes working a real job; some of our most exalted filmmakers collapse inward if they're in a crowded room. They can have unusual talents, or beauty, or unique perspectives and abilities that have propelled them to various levels of success, or even stardom, but they're just normal, neurotic people.

And success, fame, and money can really twist people. It can be like radiation. They can go full Gollum from it.

But most people who work in Hollywood are not stars at all. The vast majority of people who work here are not rich, not famous. Most are hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen who are fighting every day to make a living, scraping by the best they can in an industry that is brutal, impersonal, and impenetrable. But every single person in this business - whether they are superstars or not - are just ordinary people. They're insecure, anxious, and prone to all of the failings we mortals are prone to. Some of them are awesome; some of them are assholes. But most of the people here (even the superstars) quietly feel like they don't belong, or that they don't deserve it, or that their sheer ordinariness will be discovered any minute. In fact, it's the people who seem to feel the opposite - those rare people who feel that they DO belong here, and deserve the lifestyle this industry can afford, who are inevitably the least likable ones I've met.

As I've been lucky enough to keep working in this business, I've met a lot of the people who I idolized along the way. Filmmakers and actors who I admire so much, whose work has shaped the trajectory of my life without them knowing it. I've been starstruck every time, and I am still am - I stammer, I freeze, and I kick myself for what I say, or don't say, or how I said it. I'm not good at it. I have acute social anxiety, and when you throw me at someone I admire, I turn into a blubbering idiot. They say "don't meet your heroes" because you may (likely will) be disappointed by just how ordinary they truly are. Or worse, they may even turn out to be people you wouldn't want to interact with in normal circumstances - your heroes might be people you wouldn't want to invite to coffee. The persona you have admired is a product in itself, something you bought, something you have taken home and displayed proudly in your imagination... but the human being behind that persona is full of all the ordinary failings. That can be really hard to reconcile. So yeah, a long-winded way of saying that I've had the experience of meeting people I admired a great deal only to be disappointed, or worse. I've got some nightmare stories in there where the actual person violently shattered the idol I'd built in my imagination. I won't share those stories, there's little point in that, but instead I'll talk about the rare exceptions - the few heroes I've met who were every bit as awesome as I'd hoped they'd be. They may say "never meet your heroes," but they haven't met Mark Hamill. I worked with Mark on The Fall of the House of Usher, and he is one of my favorite people. Kind, generous, humble, and so, so funny. I was nervous and excited to meet Mark for the obvious reasons, because of the hero he was in my imagination - but I got to meet Mark the actor, the father, the husband, the humanitarian, and the friend. Guillermo Del Toro - one of my biggest heroes, his work has meant so much to me. And I was terrified to meet him. But he is one of the most joyful, honest, sweet-natured people I've met in the business, and his love for movies is infectious. For me, the man himself exceeded the myth.

I've been lucky to meet other exceptions to this rule, heroes of mine who exceeded my expectations - Ewan McGregor, Mick Garris, Brian Henson, Heather Langenkamp, Henry Thomas - and yeah, I've had the other experience too. But I try to focus on the exceptions. It can be unhealthy to idolize people - unhealthy for you, and unhealthy for them. But it's truly awesome when someone is even more amazing than you imagined.

[barrenclan]

I hope its okay to ask- what motivated you to keep the body count so low? With how often it was reinforced that this was a tragedy, that no one was safe, etc, I'm in an odd spot in which I think, logically, that it makes perfect sense that it happened this way (straight up think its brilliant, actually!! The thematic relevance of Pinepaw accepting the meaninglessness of his life being what stops Deepdark? Poetry, even) but not being able to reconcile that with being somewhat emotionally let down that only two minor characters died aside from Rainhaze (which was a given imo). This isnt a criticism, the more I digest it the more I enjoy it/I realize what a great choice it was - I actually wouldnt want any of it to change- I'm just very very curious about your thought process on this. You already spoke of Asphodel and Rainhaze, but how did you decide who and how many were going to die? Is it more about the *after*, the picking of the pieces after its over? I am so very excited for the picking of the pieces after its over, actually lol.

Real answer: I have far too much I want to explore thematically with nearly all of the characters, and the vast majority of it only happens if a lot of them remain alive.

When I wrote the ending of the comic, I actually struggled to find another character to kill in the attack besides Mallowstar and Rainhaze - like I said when talking about Cypressfoot's death. There were absolutely no more characters beyond her that I was willing to sacrifice, in terms of what they would give me narratively alive versus dead. This was never a story about everything ending in total destruction, anyways - it's a story about learning how to grow after grief and deal with random acts of misery that seem to leave nearly everything unchanged except for the enormous effects they have on you. You often don't get to choose what is going to happen to you and it's up to forces beyond your control if you and your loved ones live or die.

This is a worldview I hold, anyways - the future is entirely fluid and loose, and just as much as terrible things can happen, everything can turn out fine, too. Misery is not the natural state of the world (that's entropy, haha), and the other side of the coin is always possible. But once events happen, they are locked into an unchangeable permanence and you simply have no choice but to try and grapple with how they will affect your unknowable future. You have infinite branching paths, but you'll only follow one once you look behind you... not to get too much into personal philosophy.

Joke answer: SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, SOB, I DON'T WANNA KILL MY LITTLE GUYS

[hotmessmaxpress]

This is SHITE but it's writing so I'm holding it out to you like a cat bringing its loving owner a dead mouse.

Vale doesn't admit it until they're back together, having reconciled. They're still tiptoeing around the heavy baggage of their past, only acknowledging it when it's unavoidable.

They're in bed, sweaty and bare, and Vale is tracing the lines on Marc's face. He gently slides the tips of his fingers down, from the crinkles at the edges of Marc's beautiful eyes to the smile lines that bracket his lips. His fingers continue down, running gently over his tanned neck and strong shoulders, down the scars on his arm until he can tangle their fingers together.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," Marc says, laughing with a touch of the plastic stiffness he uses with the media.

Vale senses that this is an important moment.

"You're beautiful," he says, somewhat lamely but with total honesty. Marc is beautiful. He always has been and will always be.

He is definitely different than their last attempt at a relationship, if you could call it that, though. Then again, Vale has changed just as much.

Marc laughs stiffly again, glancing away.

Vale frowns.

"I know you aren't as young anymore," Vale adds, treading carefully. "I am not either."

"You were never young," Marc teases, and Vale is relieved to find that Marc has relaxed, and lost his plastic tone. He's genuinely smiling now, though it's a small smile.

Vale pretends to be affronted, scoffing.

"I have eternal youth."

"Immaturity," Marc corrects.

That startles a laugh out of Vale, who can't argue. Marc has always been overly mature for his age, but even now he seems older than he is. Vale knows Marc has been through a lot, though his brain carefully doesn't think about the role he had to play in all of it, and he reckons that makes Marc seem older.

"I was worried--" Marc says, then pauses.

Vale bites his tongue and waits. Marc is clearly trying to find the words.

"You thought it was sexy that I was so young," Marc finally settles on. He says it with careful neutrality, tone light, but it still feels like an accusation.

Vale considers arguing, but he and Marc have been working on honesty. He can't bring himself to lie.

"I did."

Marc hums. Vale waits for him to say more, to explain what he's feeling, but he doesn't. It makes Vale anxious; he feels like he's done something wrong.

"What are you thinking?" he prompts, finally running out of patience.

Marc chews his lip, playing with Vale's fingers.

"I was worried that you would be bothered by how old I've gotten."

Vale laughs, and then corrects himself when he sees the flash of hurt across Marc's face. He sees Marc's defenses go up, and he soothes him with a kiss to the spot on his face where his eyebrows have now knit together.

"No, no. I laughed because you are not old."

Marc is still frowning. Vale sees Marc's youth in the way he pouts, in the way his jaw flexes as he chews the inside of his lip.

"You are older," Vale says. "But that's life. We grow and get older. I will love you when you're old."

"When I'm old you'll be ancient," Marc bitches, still frowning.

Vale laughs again.

"Yes. And?"

Marc glares at him. Vale is clearly not making him feel better.

"Okay, fine. I thought it was very sexy when you were so young and I was getting old. It was sexy to see how you looked at me so innocently. Now you are not young or innocent, but you're still sexy. You are unbelievable. Everything about you makes me want to keep you in my bed forever."

He presses a kiss to the corner of Marc's lips.

"Plus, I am in love with you."

Vale hopes Marc understands what he's trying to convey. The first time they tried this, Vale wasn't ready to be in love with Marc. He wasn't ready to admit that Marc loved him. This time he's made peace with it. This time he wants to be with Marc for the rest of his life, regardless of how old they are.

Marc seems to understand him. He kisses Vale sweetly, then pulls back to stare into his eyes. He must be satisfied with what he sees, because he finally smiles again.

Vale leans down to kiss Marc again.

"Okay?" he asks, just to be sure.

"Yes," Marc says, sounding relaxed. "I love you too."

[miley1442111]

what about reader (jj's sister) and rafe getting into a fight and they go to a party separately, and reader makes him jealous and he ends up exposing them to the pogues and it's huge fight

omg this is such a fun idea! idk if i did it justice but I hope you like it <3

family feud

a/n: this isn't exactly canon rafe bc this rafe isn't fully insane so sorry if that bothers you lol. i wrote this for a fem reader and reader wears a dress but imagine whatever you want :) also sorry, jj is kind of an a-hole in this one :(

pairings: rafecameron x reader, brotherjjmaybank x sisterreader, platonicpogues x reader

summary: rafe pisses you off, you got to a party and piss him off... but what happens when jj, your brother, finds out about him?

I'm mad. I'm really fucking mad. I want to piss Rafe off just as much as he pissed me off. The one day a month that my house is empty and we can actually spend time together, Rafe ghosts me and goes fucking golfing. So yeah, I go to the party in a dress that he got me, one he wanted me to wear for him. So…. I wear it to dance with Pope. Pope and I will never see each other like that, we're like siblings, but he’s the only pogue who knows and is even slightly ok with Rafe and I dating. He still hates him, so he’s enjoying this. I catch a glimpse of him. His eyes are dark and he’s staring, a red solo cup in his hand. He nods at me to come over, I shake my head and focus on dancing. The music is loud, really loud. My feet hurt from dancing and honestly I want to make up with Rafe. I want to be near him. I want to stop ignoring his texts. His hundreds of texts. His hundreds of calls.

I had to start leaving my phone at home he was calling me so much. I feel bad, but the idea of reconciling with him feels far-fetched and I'm not bothered to text him back. I don't even know where my phone is.

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

“He’s looking,” Pope shouts over the music. I haven't seen Rafe for an hour, I don't even see him now.

“Let him look!” I chuckle back. “He fucking deserves it!”

Is this the best way to communicate my feelings? No. Should I probably just tell Rafe how upset I am? Maybe, but knowing him he’d just treat me like one of his groupies, which I am not. I’m his girlfriend of 8 months. 

I feel a hand grab my arm and I gasp. I look up to see Rafe. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” I hiss, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Pope steps away, saying something about getting another drink.

“You. You’re my fucking problem. You come here, in that fucking dress I bought you and you dance with Pope fucking Heyward. You don’t give me any fucking attention after I’ve been blowing up your phone for days,” He’s mad. He’s really fucking mad.

“Sorry, I was too busy,” I smirk, snatching my arm back. 

“Busy doing fucking what exactly?” He smiles one of his bitter-angry smiles and my sense of pride strengthens. I’m making Rafe Cameron mad. I’m making Rafe Cameron jealous.

“Golfing,” I smirk and his face drops.

“That’s what this shit is about?! If you would’ve just fucking asked baby- I would’ve come over, and none of this would’ve fucking happened! I wanted to be with you that day- fucking Topper pissed me off all fucking day- baby, you should’ve told me-” He gets cut off by a swift punch to the face.

“Get the fuck away from my sister Rafe, or I’ll kill you myself,” Jj shouts, John B holding him back. Rafe gets up from the ground, I can see how furious he is and I grab his hand, leading him away from my brother. He obliges and follows behind me. I weave him through the party-goers, Kiera and Jj shouting my name as we slip away. I bring him into the bathroom, sitting him on the counter as I search for a first-aid kit. 

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Rafe sighs, his breathing sporadic. “Topper, he’s- he’s gonna- he’s gonna beat him u-up. He-he’ll kill him i-if he gets the chance.”

I look up at him, first-aid-kit in hand. “Baby, breathe. I’ll text him now.” I take out my phone and send Topper a message, making him promise to not touch my brother or friends. He promises he won’t, but I know better and tell him to get the car started and that I’ll bring Rafe out to him in a few minutes. “See,” I show Rafe the messages. “He’s going to the car.” 

“Ba-baby I’m so sorry,” His eyes start to water, and my heart breaks. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s ok Rafe. I was just mad, I’m sorry,” I smile and start to clean his cut lip. His hands find their way to my waist, holding me gently. 

“I love you,” He blurts out and I drop my hand from his face. His face goes red and he looks down, I smile. Rafe Cameron; Kook King- loves me. Hm. 

“I love you too handsome. But right now, let’s focus on not getting mauled by my brother again, yeah? Let’s get you to the car and then home,” I smile and kiss his cheek, taking his hand to bring him home. He nods and follows. Outside the bathroom is Jj.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?” He grunts, stopping us from walking by.

“We’ll talk about this later Jj-”

“We’ll talk about this now,” He pushes. 

“Jj, fuck off!” I push past him and bring Rafe behind me. We get out of the house to the backyard where almost everyone is and I hear Jj practically scream my name. Everyone looks either to him or me and Rafe and I sigh. 

“Jj please-” I try but he cuts me off.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on between you two? Or do I have to ask around?” Jj shouts and grab someone’s collar, “You know somethin’?” The guy shakes his head, cowering back. He drops him and walks closer. 

“Jj, stop being a dick-”

“We’re dating. We have been for 8 months,” Rafe pipes up from behind me and Jj’s mouth drops open. He lunges forward, but instead of getting to Rafe, he knocks me to the ground. My head hits the hard ground and I whimper in pain. Rafe is immediately by my side.

“You’re ok baby, don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine,” he soothes as he cradles my head in his hands. 

“Rafe,” I start to cry into his touch as I feel Jj’s hand in mine. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Jj sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, back up,” John B pulls Jj away as Rafe helps me up. 

“Can we go home?” I whisper to Rafe as I wrap my arm around his bicep, holding onto him for steadiness. 

“Of course baby.”

I knew I would inevitably have to deal with Jj but tonight, tonight is for Rafe and I.

[daizymax]

be that guy | bc (m)

summary: running into you at a club months after the breakup could just be a stroke of pure, dumb luck. or maybe it's the push he needs to try and reconcile with you. whatever happens, chan is up for anything you want tonight.

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

genre: angst, smut

word count: 7k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: ex-boyfriend!chan; profanity; alcohol consumption; graphic sexual content; some angst-y/emotional moments in the smut; pet names; dirty talk including some degradation and praising; vaginal fingering; mentions of squirting; breast & nipple play; clothed sex; protected sex; oral (f receiving); finger sucking; some hair pulling; multiple orgasms; aftercare; no definitive ending oops

author's note: i started to take a fic from my old blog and just rewrite chan into it, but i ended up only keeping the base premise of two exes hooking up again and rewriting the entire thing from scratch. it turned into this. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

“Isn’t that Y/N?”

Chan’s head snaps in the direction Minho nods, and his heart skips a beat when he sees you. When did you get here? How could he have possibly missed you? There might as well be a spotlight shining down for the way his attention locks onto you now.

“She looks great,” Minho goes on, lips on the rim of his vodka soda.

Of all the people to run into tonight.

Of all the fucking people.

He sounds accusatory, but Chan has to know: “Did you know she was going to be here?”

Minho shakes his head innocently. He’s right, though. You look great. As gorgeous as ever. The smile on your face is large and radiant, but deep down, Chan knows it will drop like a lead balloon if you spot him.

And of course you do. Of course you fucking do.

One minute you’re laughing with your friend; the next minute, it’s as if you can sense his heavy stare halfway across the club. Your eyebrows tighten and you turn your head to look straight at him.

The spark is instant, the same as the very first time he saw you years ago. A smile blooms across his face before he even knows it’s happening - it’s just an automatic reaction to you. Subconsciously, he’s still happy to see you.

But then reality comes crashing down, and he remembers he’s not living in that wonderful world where you smile back at him every day anymore. He’s living in the aftermath of breaking your heart. So he waits for your lip to curl in disgust, or for you to roll your eyes and look away, but you do neither. He can’t read your expression, but at least you maintain eye contact with him.

Minho looks to Chan as well, then pats him on the shoulder. He doesn’t have to say anything; his support is felt all the same.

Chan downs the rest of his whiskey, takes a deep breath, and starts pushing through the crowd. By the time he reaches you at the bar, your friend is gone.

“I didn’t mean to scare your friend off,” he says, then winces internally. His first words to you in months and he couldn’t start with a simple ‘hello’ or an honest ‘you look amazing’? Or perhaps a heartfelt ‘I’m sorry’ down on his knees would have been the most appropriate greeting. What the fuck is wrong with him?

A smile returns to your lips, tiny this time. “You give yourself too much credit. I told her to give me a few minutes.”

A few minutes is probably more than he deserves. He has to make the most of them. No more stupid statements.

“I’m-” he starts, but the rest of his words are suffocated. He gulps through the sudden tightness in his throat and tries again. “You’re- You look… so beautiful, Y/N.”

You tilt your head in a gesture he can’t decipher and set your empty glass down on the bar counter.

“Chan…”

When you look at him again, his eyes lock back onto yours. It’s clear you’re also struggling to find words. It’s been months of heartbreak between now and the last time you saw each other, but before that, there were years of laughs, sweet words, daily routines, and gentle touches. He wonders if you’re remembering those times right now, too.

You purse your lips and reach out for his bicep. He unconsciously flexes it under your touch.

“You look great, too.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Want to get out of here?”

---

Getting into his apartment is a messy affair of feet stumbling over each other’s, hands tangled in hair, and lips and teeth clashing repeatedly.

Chan has half a mind to tear your dress apart at the seams to get it off your body, but that train of thought is entirely derailed when you reach beneath it yourself to slip your panties off. When the skimpy fabric drops to your feet, you sling it across his kitchen floor with the toe of your shoe.

He helps you up onto the counter, then slips his hand between your legs to check how wet you are. Surprisingly, your outer lips feel pretty soaked already, but he’s not going to rush to stick his dick inside you and risk hurting you. You seem eager enough to take him right now, but he wants you properly prepped.

If this is truly the last time he gets to be with you like this, he wants everything to go perfectly.

Your walls immediately clamp around the finger he pushes through them. You’re so fucking warm and silky inside, he just has to add another finger right away. You gasp as the intrusion thickens, lips falling apart ever so slightly. Chan slots his mouth over yours to catch the incoming moan. You taste like sugary cocktails. You smell delicious. You sound so fucking horny.

His wrist flexes as he searches for that spot he mapped out inside you long ago. He’s going straight for it because he has no intention of teasing you to an orgasm tonight. He wants you to come just as many times as you want tonight. Anything you want tonight, he’ll do it for you.

G-spot easily located, he rubs fast against it. You’re starting to drip all over his hand and down to the counter below, but he’s not upset about the sticky mess; he’s hard beyond belief over it. His zipper is scraping against his dick, but he ignores the discomfort. It’s tolerable when you’re moaning between his lips like this.

“Chan, please,” you whimper, finally speaking.

He pauses a moment because it’s been a while since he’s done this and his hand is already cramping. It would be a grave mistake to stop like this if you were close to coming, but he still has some time for now.

“I know, Y/N, I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your lips, withdrawing his tongue from your mouth only long enough to get the words out.

He stretches his thumb to flick it across your swollen clit. Your knees twitch at the contact, closing inward for a split second before opening wider, your dress riding higher up your thighs with the motion.

The way you’re giving him such open access to your body is making Chan’s head spin. Maybe his whole world has been turned upside down tonight. The feeling of your cunt around his fingers is keeping him grounded in the lewdest possible way.

He should be grateful to have this much, but he wants to get greedy and pull your tits out over the top of your dress so he can nip and suck on your nipples. The entire garment would probably have to come off first, though, and he’s not about to ruin your current positions to do that yet. Maybe he can give your breasts some due attention during round two. God he hopes you’ll stay for round two.

You’re barely focused on kissing him back anymore, too caught up with your imminent climax. Chan pulls his face away from yours to examine the state of you: shivering, spread open, starting to sweat, panting.

You’re gorgeous, and tonight, he’s all yours again.

“Chan,” you breathe again, hips bucking off the counter, bare skin squeaking on the surface. “Please keep going- fuck…”

“I’m not stopping ‘til you come on my fingers, angel,” he promises. The old pet name slips out before he knows it.

You must really be lost in your pleasure because you don’t call him on it and remind him he lost his right to call you that or any pet name anymore.

Tossing your head back, you moan, “More, please… f-faster…”

He wouldn’t dream of denying you, so he leans in and releases a ball of spit onto your clit. It quickly seeps down around his thumb, over your slit and over the fingers he has inside you, making his work more slippery. He wants you nice and wet and fucked open for his cock, so he drives his fingers faster, just as you asked.

It’s difficult to keep his thumb rotating in steady circles, so he vibrates it back and forth as best he can instead. He’s sure it will work - it has before, at least. He just has to keep his pace consistent. Keep the pressure just right. Maybe you’ll even squirt for him and really soak his hand, for old times’ sake.

Even if he couldn’t feel your pussy constricting tighter and tighter, the way you suddenly grab his flexing wrist is another telltale sign that you’re close to the edge. Your head is still tipped backward, throat exposed and gleaming with sweat.

Chan braces his unoccupied hand against your back, then leans forward and licks a stripe up the column of your neck. The taste of your sweat and the perfume you applied is an addicting mix of salty and sweet on his tongue.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out. “Right there, right there… so fucking close…shit, shit!”

“I know, I know, I can feel it,” he whispers, trailing his words up from your neck and into your ear. He licks the shell of it with the tip of his tongue, and you shiver in his arms. “Let go for me.”

Not only does your pussy close in tighter, but your fingers on his wrist do, too. Your chest is heaving, tits still begging him for attention. He finally gives in and bites one of the mounds through your dress. The fabric probably dulls the sensation a little, but he’s still gentle with his teeth.

When you moan louder, he sucks as much of your clothed breast into his mouth as he can. He can just barely feel your nipple raised against the fabric, but it’s still noticeable enough for him to know where to start flicking his tongue. The sensation seems to trigger your orgasm. Or maybe it’s the desperate act itself that does it for you.

“Oh my god, Chan, fuck!”

Your entire body tenses against the intense shockwave that detonates within you, rendering you motionless for just a few seconds before you start trembling hard from the outburst of pleasure.

“Shit, that’s it, Y/N,” Chan coos, drawing back again to take in your orgasm. A string of spit bridges the distance between your dress and his bottom lip. “Holy fuck, you’re coming so hard for me, I love it.”

Chan can barely continue pumping his fingers through your cunt’s vise grip, so he settles for keeping his fingertips kissed against your g-spot, gently easing the pressure as your intense orgasm wanes.

When your knees start wobbling from the overstimulation, he removes his hand from between your slippery walls, and you let go of him, too. His fingers are glistening, a clear testament to how good he just made you feel. Something nasty in him wants to whip his aching cock out right now and slather it in your juices, but his first instinct is to not let the treat go to waste. So instead, he runs his tongue up the length of his sticky middle finger, letting the salty liquid rest on his tastebuds for a few seconds before swallowing it down.

“Jesus fuck,” you pant, watching the erotic scene unfold before your eyes.

Chan smirks, pleased that you’re pleased, and repeats the action with his index finger, a little obsessed with making sure he doesn’t miss a drop. His entire kitchen smells like sex already and he fucking loves it.

More importantly, you look like sex incarnate, propped up on one hand on his counter, still breathless, still spread open. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his entire life - no offense to all your previous escapades together.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rumbles straight from his chest, lying his palms flat on the counter to cage you between his arms. “Missed this sweet pussy so much.”

Is the confession too much? If so, you don’t call him out on that, either. He’s not sure how he’s getting away with crossing all these lines tonight, but he’s not going to question it.

“Want to fuck it?” you ask. The deeply seductive look in your eyes makes him gulp.

“Y-Yeah? You’d let me fuck you?”

“If you have a condom, yes,” you clarify.

Chan nods a little too eagerly, but it’s nothing compared to the way his dick jumps in his jeans. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his ticket to fucking you. Honestly, he didn’t expect to actually use the condom with anyone tonight - least of all you - but now he’s glad he chose to be prepared.

You raise an eyebrow at how he practically conjured one out of thin air, then lean forward and put your hands on his chest to get him to step back a little. Slipping off the counter, you step over to his kitchen table - still in your heels - and bend over it.

Only when you look over your shoulder and jerk your head does Chan fully get the picture.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, hurrying to follow.

You giggle as he fumbles with his belt and pants. The way you shake your ass side-to-side in front of him is probably supposed to entice him, but he loses focus and drops the condom packet.

“Where’s the dirty talking monster who used to fuck me dumb?” you tease, still giggling.

Chan laughs back and scoops the packet off the floor. “Can’t be that guy right now,” he says, shoving his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. The open air feels cool on the wet tip of his dick. “The beautiful girl bent over my kitchen table kind of makes me lose my fucking mind, you know.”

You hum and bite your lip, eyes cast down to his thick erection. He opens the foil, gives his cock a few quick pumps, rolls the condom onto it.

As he takes another step to position himself close behind you, you turn to face forward. Your hands reach back to help him bunch your dress over your ass, though, and he gets the overwhelming urge to twine his fingers with yours. The moment is soon gone when you bring your hands forward again to brace them on the table.

Eyes down, Chan takes the base of his cock and steers the tip between your legs. He rubs it up and down through your slit a few times until it catches on your opening and pokes in shallowly. Slowly, he pushes in another inch, then two more, then all the way to the hilt until his balls are pressed against you.

“Fuck,” you groan, knuckles tightening around the edge of the table. “Forgot how well you stretch me out.”

He can’t help but feel proud of that. “Big enough for you?”

“Mhm.” Your walls clench tighter, and he figures you did it on purpose. “Hard enough, too. Shit you’re hard.”

“So fucking hard for you,” he agrees, eyes rolling back in his head. His hands roam aimlessly over your ass while he gives you both a moment to adjust.

Evidently he stalls for too long, though, because you take it upon yourself to start moving your ass back and forth in the limited space between his hips and the table.

“Come on, baby,” you say. “If you missed this pussy so much, fucking take it.”

He wants to give you everything when you talk like that, so without another second to spare, he draws his cock back until the tip is at the very edge of your opening, then pushes forward to split your walls around it again.

It’s a blessing and a curse, but he can still remember how incredible your wet heat used to feel around his raw cock, back when the two of you had love and trust. It’s been a very long time since he’s had to wear a condom with you - or anyone, for that matter - but he won’t complain. He’s all too aware he’s lucky to be inside you at all.

Besides, you still feel incredible. Your pussy sucks him back in when he pulls back too far, gives way easily when he sinks in deep. The more he pumps himself in and out at this slow, steady pace, the harder he finds it to hold back.

Luckily, you’re of the same mindset. “Harder, baby. Please.”

Using the pet name again is a sure-fire way to get what you want. He may have been the one to break up with you, but before that, he could probably count the number of times he denied you on one hand. You were always irresistible, especially when you asked him so nicely for things.

Chan snaps his hips harder, driving his cock as deep as he can get it with every stroke. He only pulls back a few inches at a time, keeping most of himself sheathed inside your warmth at all times, not willing to part from you any more than he has to.

“Like this?” he asks.

You nod and pant, “Yes. S-So fucking good, Chan.”

“Just want your tight little pussy pounded, don’t you?” Chan goes on, gripping your hips for leverage. He practically yanks you back into him with his next thrust, and you cry out in sheer ecstasy. “Just want a nice, thick cock to stretch your little hole open real good, huh? Fuck you open good and proper?”

“Fuck, yes, baby, yes, yes! Oh my god, Chan…”

That dirty talking monster you always loved is starting to rear its head, but Chan’s pleasure threshold is rapidly reaching its limit. Between the moans pouring out of your mouth, the wet smacking of his balls against your cunt, and the intense friction rubbing across his length, he comes much sooner than expected.

“Oh god, fuck- shit, angel, holy shit, I’m gonna- mmmf- fffuck!”

His cock pulses hard as streams of cum jet up its length, shot after shot unloading into the condom.

The guilt is instant. Apologies and excuses start tumbling from his mouth. “I’m s-so sorry, Y/N,” he mutters, struggling to catch his breath because cum is still squirting out of him. “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to come that fast, you just felt so fucking- I mean, you sounded so-”

“It’s fine, Chan,” you laugh, wiggling your ass again. “Consider me flattered.”

He tilts his head and huffs out a breath of laughter himself, then eases his hips backward to pull his cock out of you before it goes too soft. After he’s thrown away the condom, he turns back to you. Part of him fears to find you pulling your panties back on to leave, but he’s excited to find you facing him with your dress still gathered around your hips.

“I can keep going,” he offers straight away, crossing the distance to put his hands on your bare hips. “Let me go down on you, or- or finger you again. Please.”

Instead of answering him right away, you grin and kiss him. When your tongue pokes across the seam of his lips, he happily grants it entry to lick against his own. You can probably taste the remnants of your arousal in his mouth, but you’re not put off by it. In fact, you wind your arms tight around him.

Pulling your face back, you ask, “You want to make me come again, baby?”

Chan nods, eyes flicking up and down between your eyes and lips. He’s more drunk on the taste of you than the whiskey in the club could have ever hoped to achieve.

“You want to eat me out?” you press, studying his face just as intently. “Stick your fingers back inside my pussy?”

He licks his lips. His wilted cock heaves valiantly but isn’t quite ready to rise again.

“Please. Anything.”

He’s prepared to start begging, but you have mercy on him.

Slipping a hand into one of his, you ask him to take you to the bedroom. You start giggling again when he has to practically waddle his way there with his pants falling around his knees. Chan laughs, too, and starts stripping his clothes.

After he yanks his shirt over his head to toss it on the pile on his floor, he catches you checking him out. He resists the urge to make a trite ‘like what you see?’ joke. He made plenty of those when you were together - he knows you like what you see, and he’s flattered it’s still true.

When you peel your eyes off his chest to look at his face again, you cock an eyebrow and smirk. Then, you spin around and ask him to help unzip you. He does so happily, getting just as much of an eyeful of your body after your dress spills to a heap at your feet. You kick it away just like you’d done with your panties earlier, then off go the heels, one after the other. Once you’re entirely nude, you step wordlessly over to his bed and settle yourself on top of it.

“Come here,” you beckon, voice soft.

Chan obeys, coming over to drape his naked body over yours. You pull him into another kiss, and he tries to keep most of his weight off you, but the feeling of your warm, bare skin against his is something he’s missed desperately.

He tilts his face the other way and moans into your mouth. His hand comes up to cup your cheek at almost the same moment you do the same to him. You’re smiling into the kisses now, and his heart aches with the knowledge that this isn’t a daily occurrence anymore.

“Y/N…” he whispers, but he isn’t sure what he wants to say exactly.

Your smile fades, and he knows you can tell there is something more than lust in his head right now; he can see it in your eyes that you understand him. Even so, you refuse to let your walls down, and he can’t say he blames you. He’s probably the reason they’re there to begin with.

“You’re so fucking hot, Chan,” you say out of the blue, steering the conversation to more comfortable territory. “Touch me again.”

He can’t deny you.

If this is all he’s good for tonight, he’s grateful.

Swallowing hard, Chan slides down your body to bring his face level with your chest. One hand goes to pinch your left nipple, the other to cup your right tit and bring that nipple into his wet mouth. You gasp at the first flick of his tongue, so he repeats the motion about a dozen more times before dragging his face tongue-first across to your other tit. When he bites down on the pebbled bud, your back arches off the bed.

“Oh, god,” you whisper, twisting a hand into his hair.

He reciprocates the gesture by slipping an arm behind your back and holding your skin tight. You’re so warm and soft, so sweet-smelling and beautiful…

Focus. Just make her come, as many times as she wants.

Be that guy again.

Even if it's just for tonight.

Do it just for her.

With his mind refocused and his dick beginning to fill out again, he looks up at your face and mutters, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Y/N.” He goes back to your other nipple, traps it between his teeth and chews it with careful nips, enough for you to feel it, but not cause you any pain. “Want to come on my tongue or my cock?”

“Cock, please,” you answer without hesitation.

He’s surprised with your choice given his poor performance earlier. He’s also surprised by how sweetly you say please this time. So sweet and beautiful, truly worthy of your favorite pet name…

Stop it. Get to it already.

“You sure you don’t want both, angel?”

Not waiting for an answer, he scoots further down your body until he’s faced with your sweet pussy. You’re still soaking wet - he can see your arousal shining all along your folds. Reaching down, he gathers your legs and pushes them up, knees toward your chest.

“Chan,” you whine. He can feel your eyes watching him move his face closer between your hips. “Not your mouth.”

He takes the heady scent of your arousal deep into his lungs with a long inhale.

“Why not? You know I could make you come so hard with my tongue. Suck on your clit real slow, take my time licking you clean, hm? Maybe pump my fingers carefully enough to make you squirt?”

Dipping his face even closer, he glides his tongue up the length of your slit. Your arousal tastes even better when he’s licking it straight from your center, so he flattens his tongue to get a wider lick, greedy to smother his tastebuds in your essence.

Total, there are probably entire days of his life that were spent with his face between your legs, learning your ins and outs, all the things that make you shiver uncontrollably and scream his name. He learned how to get you to come twice in a row, and when to ease off to bring your orgasm to a satisfying finish without building too far into another one.

You gave it all back in kind. So often eager to get on your knees for him, swallowing his entire cock down your throat, heeding his advice when he said you could tug his balls even harder, him trusting you to put your hands on his neck and squeeze just tight enough to peak his climax that little bit higher.

Presently, you writhe against his mattress under the torment of his tongue. He’s still taking his time licking through your folds, swiping half-handedly over your clit, not giving it nearly enough attention to take your next orgasm seriously.

Straightening his back, Chan gazes down at your naked form, once again admiring the sight. You gaze back steadily.

“Still want my cock?” he asks, reaching to take the throbbing appendage in his fist and stroke a few dewy drops of precum out. “Just my cock? You sure?”

You don’t answer him right away. Instead, you push backward out of his hold, get to your knees directly in front of him, and press your palms flat against the wide planes of his chest. He can feel his own heartbeat reverberate from behind his chest plate, off your hand, back to his burning skin.

“You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” you say, not answering him at all.

Chan gulps. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just want to hear you say it again.”

He’s met with a smirk and a gentle nudge from you this time. Only once he’s sitting flat, legs extended in front of him on his mattress with you straddled across his lap, do you speak again.

“Want your cock, baby,” you say, already reaching for his bedside drawer to fish out another condom. It’s open and on him in no time. “Just your cock.”

“It’s yours,” Chan whispers back.

There’s a split second of hesitation as you’re shifting to guide him back inside you. Perhaps the words crossed another line. He meant them, though.

If you’re bothered by his honesty, you don’t voice it.

With a slight drop of your hips, his cockhead slips smoothly back into your wet warmth, then the rest of his thick length, until your lap is pressed flush against his, pelvises locked tight.

Chan walks his fingertips up your spine until his palms come to rest firmly against your shoulder blades. You oblige his body language and lean in closer. Again, you hesitate for a short moment, letting something unspoken and unfinished hang suspended in the small space between your face and his for just a few broken heartbeats before closing the distance.

Gasps on both sides come when you make that first ascent back up his rigid length only to slam right back down. Running his tongue along yours becomes an afterthought to keeping your hips moving against him.

“That’s it, angel,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Ride it- mmph, fuck- ride it just like that.”

“Chan…”

Two of his fingers come to rest against your lips, dip past your teeth.

“Keep fucking me, Y/N. Don’t stop fucking me,” he urges.

Your lips close around his fingers, tongue swirling a little looser than your hips. Once they’re well lubricated with your spit, Chan draws them back to stuff them down below where he’s joined with you. With a little prodding, he finds your engorged clit and gets to work unraveling you again.

However, you seem to have other plans. Smacking his fingers away, your other hand takes his chin.

“I said I want your cock, not your fingers,” you say, the low pitch of your voice insanely sexy.

You take the offending fingers and watch as he watches you bring them back into your mouth to suck on them more earnestly than before. His jaw drops as much as your grip will allow, and his dick twitches hard between your walls.

“Need to make you come. Can’t do it with just my dick,” Chan reasons.

Your movements are already getting the better of him. The way you’re bouncing in his lap is knocking the breath from his lungs, coiling his muscles into springs. But he can’t tip over the edge without you again. He won’t, god damn it.

Hand closed around his wrist, you drag his fingers off your tongue and out of your mouth.

“Can’t you?” you taunt, eyebrow quirked.

You know damn well he can’t. He never could. Sure, he’s been inside you for plenty of your orgasms, but he always had to enlist the help of his fingers or a vibrator to stimulate your clit at the same time. Grinding your clit into his pelvic bone never yielded the same results, and he couldn’t fuck your g-spot for long enough or consistently enough to get you to come that way, either. Not without coming first.

Chan whimpers and fixes you with a helpless stare which you must find amusing because you chuckle.

“Sorry, baby,” you say, not sounding particularly apologetic. “Didn’t mean to hurt your pride.”

A blush bleeds from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest.

“Y/N, please…”

Smiling gently, you stop your bouncing and let go of both his wrist and his face to wind your arms behind his neck. His hands instinctively settle on your waist in turn.

“Feel like I could come just looking at you right now.” Your eyes shake back and forth, looking between each of his. “No one has ever made me come the way you always did.”

He starts to respond to your flattery, but his thought evaporates when you lift all the way off his aching cock then sit back down on one of his thighs, instantly smearing it with your arousal.

“You were always a selfless lover, Chan,” you continue, cupping the nape of his neck in both hands, thumbs resting against his throat. Surely you can feel the spike in his heartbeat. “I adored that about you. You always made my pleasure yours. But I’ve told you, my pleasure doesn’t always involve orgasming. Sometimes I just wanted to see you get lost in your own pleasure. Get a little selfish.”

Chastely, you kiss his cheek, then pull back to fix him in your stare again.

“So fuck me again, baby,” you purr. “And don’t worry if you come fast this time.”

With that invitation extended, you turn over onto your hands and knees.

Chan gravitates to you, getting in position behind you within seconds, hands on your hips to yank them a little higher. You hum in approval of his assertive action and spread your knees a little further apart.

Without warning, he takes his cock - the condom thoroughly coated in your juices - in hand and shoves it back into your cunt, all the way up to his balls.

“Always want you to come when you’re with me,” he rasps, not bothering to use past tense. “Want to show you a good time every time. But if you say that means you want me to get a bit selfish, so be it.”

Grip tight on your body, he draws his hips back until his tip nearly falls from your pussy, then yanks you back onto him as he pushes forward again. He must hit the right spot on the first stroke because your back trembles and bows inward.

“Yes, Chan, fuck! Right there- please-”

He smirks. “God, you really do just want my cock, don’t you, sweetheart? It’s right here.” He drags it back, slots it in deep.

Your fingers tighten in his sheets. “Keep fucking me, baby. And k-keep talking.”

He picks up the pace, abandoning his full strokes in favor of shorter, deeper ones again. “Since you want me to be selfish, does that mean you just want me to use you tonight? Want to pretend you’re just my tight little fleshlight? Huh?”

The dirty-talking monster is yawning back to life. The flesh of your ass ripples against the onslaught of his smacking hips. He’d be driving you face-first up his mattress if he wasn’t pulling you back onto him.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, pussy closing in ever tighter around his pistoning dick.

Chan swears under his breath and licks his lips, eyes fixed to where his rock hard cock disappears just below the jiggling globes of your ass. He can’t believe you’re letting him use you this way. Talk to you this way. It was only because you trusted him so much that you ever let him do something like this in the first place. Evidently you still do. It’s oddly touching.

He wants to assure you you’re way more to him than just a pretty cock sleeve, even now, in the ‘after’ part of your relationship, but that’s not what the dirty talking monster would say.

Still, he has to know you’ll tell him if he goes too far.

“Want to give me a safe word, Y/N?” Chan asks, reaching out to give your shoulder a tender squeeze.

“Shoelace,” you respond quicker than expected.

He hums in approval over your answer, brings his veiny hand to caress your cheek for a fleeting moment, circles that arm under your tits to lift your back into his chest. His cock is still stuffed tight inside you; the pause in his thrusts is only temporary.

Lips to your ear, he whispers, “Okay, angel. Here you go,” and slams himself hard into your cunt. “Just want to sit here on your knees while I drill my fat cock into you over and over? That’s fine. Want me to call you a fucking slut for it? I’ll do that for you.”

Because I fucking love you.

You whimper and writhe in his arms, face swiveling until your nose brushes across his. He gladly lets you recapture his lips, lets your tongue swarm back into his mouth.

He rebuilds his pace, still opting for quick, short ruts into your pussy to keep himself stuffed as deep as possible. Your panting breaths mingle with his as he works up the pleasure. Before long, you’re moaning too loudly on the end of his pumping dick to focus on kissing him anymore, but that just gives him the opportunity to continue talking.

“Do you like the way I’m f-fucking you?” Chan whispers, deep voice cracking. He drags his hand from below your tits and latches onto one, getting a rough handful. When he pinches your nipple, your body responds instantly. “Like the way I’m touching you? Mmm, I think you do, angel. This pussy is clenching me so goddamn tight. You’re such a good little cock sleeve for me.”

He’s not sure if you can hear everything he’s saying over the loud slaps of his pelvis hitting your backside, but you whine in response, head lolling to the side. His eyes rake from your bare neck down to your sweaty cleavage. He twists your nipple one way, then the other, and moves on to the other one.

“Can’t believe you didn’t want me to eat you out.” Chan trails wet kisses along your shoulder, squeezes your breast tight, keeps fucking up into you. “Would’ve treated this sweet pussy so well. Instead, you want me to be selfish. Want me to come without you. But that’s fine. Toys don’t get to come, anyway. Isn’t that right?”

You hiss when he bites down on your shoulder. Some motion below draws his attention - your hand dipping between your legs. He feels your fingertips brush against his moving shaft, the only inch or so of it pushing in and out. When your fingers move away from his cock but your arm remains in place, he figures you’re playing with your clit instead.

“Tsk, tsk.” He smiles. “So you do want to come.”

You groan but don’t say anything. You've told him what you’ll say if he goes too far with his dirty talk, but the word doesn’t leave your lips.

“That’s fine, angel. You can come whenever you want. Just make sure you squeeze my cock extra tight when you do it.”

One hand still clutching your tit, he hugs his other strong arm around your hips, redistributes his weight on his knees, and goes in even faster. Your body rattles in his hold from how hard and fast he’s pounding you, practically vibrating. The sweat on his chest smears against your back.

The fingers not playing with your clit come up to curl in the hair at the nape of Chan’s neck. “Oh my god, I’m so f-fucking close,” you huff, tugging his hair.

“Already?”

No sooner does your head jerk in a shaky nod than your cunt clamps hard on his dick. Chan gasps, the sensation catching him totally off guard for a second, but when he fully registers what’s happening, he chuckles wickedly. Your tense body twitches and shakes in his hold as your orgasm rips through it. He embraces you tighter to keep you steady.

“Shit, baby, where the fuck did that come from, huh?” he laughs, utterly delighted. “Just love this dick so much, don’t you? Couldn’t help but come on it, could you, you little slut? Does it feel good?”

You hum. Or maybe it’s a grunt. Your voice is pinched and strained when you say, “So so fucking good. Please c-come with me, baby, come with me now…”

“Keep squeezing me and I will, angel. Squeeze my cum out, come on.”

As your orgasm drops off, the pulsing of your pussy weakens, but it’s more than enough to draw out Chan’s own orgasm.

“That’s it- oh fuck, angel, that’s it, please- please, please, fuck-fuck-fuck- ungh!”

Only a few more resounding claps of his hips against your ass before he comes hard, groaning loudly at the moment of his brutal second release. The condom catches shot after shot of the translucent cum his throbbing cock is ejaculating. He can vaguely hear you murmuring sweet nothings, your lips ghosting over his cheek, but his heartbeat is so damn loud in his eardrums, his orgasm feels too fucking good.

As soon as his senses return to him, he pulls his cock from your over-sensitive pussy. Your spent body slumps forward against the mattress, too exhausted to remain upright without the help of his arms.

Chan is off the bed to trash the condom and back at your side in mere seconds, gathering your warm, sweaty body against his as he lies beside you, facing you.

“That was so good, Y/N,” he murmurs, fussing over the hair sticking to your face. Your eyes are a bit glazed. He tries not to panic. “Hey, you did so well, sweet angel. Stay with me, baby, please don’t fall asleep. I’m right here. Look at me.”

He takes your hand and places it on his cheek, and to his relief, it doesn’t slip away; you hold his face with your own strength.

“I’m fine, Chan,” you say, a smile dawning over your entire face, eyes already refocused.

He starts reiterating that you’re not just a cock sleeve to him, not a toy, not a slut, at least not in a negative way, but you giggle and silence him with a kiss.

“I know, baby, I know,” you assure him. Your other arm is trapped somewhere between your bodies and the mattress, but you manage to free it so you can cup his face with both hands. “You did great, too. You were perfect. I felt safe with you, don’t worry. I feel safe.”

It’s been so long since he’s had you in his bed recovering from a round of intense sex, he’s not sure what to do next. The ensuing silence doesn’t feel awkward, though. He lets you gently rake your fingernails across his scalp, and he returns the gentle gesture with slow swipes of his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

Eventually, the tranquil moment is broken when you draw in a deep breath and haul yourself to a sitting position at the foot of his bed.

Chan isn’t sure he can stand a goodbye from you right now, temporary or permanent. The thought that he made a mistake by breaking up with you is blaring in neon lights in his head. If there’s anything he can do to at least convince you to stay the night with him, he will.

And if, in the morning, there’s anything he can do to convince you how much of a fool he was for ending a good thing, he’ll do his damnedest.

Worst case scenario, his life will return to the way it was just a few hours ago.

Best case scenario, he could be on his way to being your boyfriend again.

First, he sits up beside you.

Second, he looks into your eyes.

Finally, he opens his mouth.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2023 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[radiansjort]

The Minyards’ and Hemmicks’ Names

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone point this out, but it was one of the first things I noticed when I read the books; Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky all have Biblical/Catholic names. It makes sense because Luther and presumably Tilda are Catholic, but their Biblical names also correspond with who they are as characters.

Andrew: In the Bible, he is one of Jesus’ 12 Apostles. He was brother to Simon Peter, who was Jesus’ closest Appstle. The name Andrew itself means “strong” and “warrior,” and in the books Neil narrates how strong he finds Andrew; we can also see him as a warrior when he protects Nicky especially as well as the other Monsters.

Joseph: There are 2 Josephs in the Bible and both fit Andrew’s character. The first is Joseph the father of Jesus on earth. He was seen as the ultimate protector because he protected the Holy Family and followed God’s call to stay with Mary. He protected Jesus from being killed as an infant by taking him and Mary to Egypt shortly after his birth. Obviously, Andrew is very much a protector. He is very protective of all the Monsters and frequently called a “mom friend” in the fandom. The other Joseph, is Joseph son of Jacob (Israel). He was the favorite son of his 12 brothers, and all of the brothers were jealous. Because of this, they leave him in a ditch and sell him as a slave to the Egyptians. As a slave, he works his way up the ranks to become the Pharaoh’s adviser because he can interpret dreams. Eventually during the famine, his brothers and father come to Egypt in hopes of finding food, and Joseph forgives them for selling him off. There is obviously the similarities of complicated brother relationships which is very much Andrew and Aaron, but I say he also relates to this because Joseph reconciles with his brothers, and post canon Andrew and Aaron begin to reconcile and really have a relationship with one another.

Aaron: In the Bible, Aaron is the brother of Moses and a high priest among the Israelites. He helps them along their journey to the Promised Land. One of the most notable things he does is while Moses is on Mt Sinai, he builds a golden calf for the Israelites to worship. When Moses sees this, he gets so angry and upset that he smashes the Ten Commandments and has to climb the mountain to receive them again. I see this as Aaron (Aaron) and Andrew (Moses) and their early relationship. After their deal is made, Aaron doesn’t understand the significance of this and instead goes against what they agreed to (kind of like—> Aaron and Moses were both priests and dedicated to God and Aaron went against that with the idol) and it almost reflects how Aaron beings to go against their deal.

Michael: Michael the Archangel is the warrior and protector of the Church, and he is the one who directly opposes Satan and defeats him. I see it as pretty fitting, because in the end, who is it that kills Drake?

I find the twins names so very fitting because not only do they relate to their characters, every one of them in the Bible had a brother. (If you count the other Archangels as Michael’s “brothers.”)

Unlike the twins, Nicky’s names are not the names of Biblical figures, but instead of Catholic saints.

Nicholas: St. Nicholas was known for his generosity, as he gave his wealth to the poor. And probably what he’s most known for, he gave gifts to the poor at night inside their shoes. (Which brought about the story of Santa Claus). I think this fits Nicky well, as he gave everything he had to the twins. He gave up living a normal teenage life to instead not go to school and instead work 3 jobs to keep him and the twins all afloat. Also more obvious, St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children and known as the protector of them. That very obviously relates to Nicky as he protects and cares for the twins.

Esteban: The English equivalent of Esteban is “Stephan,” and St. Stephan is known as the first martyr. He is actually mentioned in the bible, but doesn’t appear on page. He refused to denounced the Catholic faith, so he was stoned to death. This is similar to Nicky because Nicky again gave up everything for the twins, and he was the first person to really give everything he had for these two.

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Random Messages You May Need 🌈🎆⛅

Sup, y'all. I'm finally back for another pick a card reading. I really apologize if folks have not heard from me over the past month, I meant to get this reading (among other things) out a while ago. I have not been able to touch tarot for the past few weeks. Life has been… topsy turvy, to say the least. Heh heh. [sweating profusely]

I meant to have another game out and to have paid readings available by now--that is still part of the plan. What was meant for June will be in July. So this blog might go from 0 to 100 mph real soon, to move along with plans as intended!

I was loosely inspired by the Baker pride flag from 1978 for this group selection. These piles are pretty nondescript: each one contains a random message that may resonate with you. Pick based on whichever color of the Prism Oracle speaks to you most, and feel free to choose more than one. Take only what resonates.

Pile 1 - Strength (Red) Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange) Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow) Pile 4 - Movement (Green) Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise) Pile 6 - Trust (Blue) Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet) Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

Pile 1 - Strength (Red)

10 of Swords, Insight

You've been asked by the universe to put up with a lot, especially recently. You're reaching a finish line of a very long and brutal marathon. There have been too many times where you questioned whether or not to throw in the towel. If you have, you may also have questioned whether or not it was the correct choice. Sometimes, things don't work out, and it's better to move on. It can be difficult to hold everything up when one thing after another seems to fall apart at the seams, but either way you're being reminded of the light at the end of this long and turbulent tunnel.

Collect yourself, pick up what pieces you can. Time has shifted everything, but the essentials still stand. Gather the wisdom you have learned from this ordeal. There is still beauty to be found in the decay, glittering gems in the rough.

Maybe you don't want to get stronger. Healing may feel like a better option than grinding for difficult experience points. Give yourself the rest and repair you need. Let go of only that which is keeping you from starting again, but you don't need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. You've gained so much wisdom and strength, this trial wasn't without gain. Treasure it and begin anew.

Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange)

2 of Swords, Clarity

Whatever answers you seek are coming to you. Or perhaps they've already arrived; open your eyes and see for yourself. You may be wondering which path will satisfy you more. The process of reconciling this could take forever unless you lean on your gut here. This can't be decided based on intellect alone, for you could get stuck mulling it over for days. Imagining all the different possible outcomes could be taxing for your brain, so narrow it down. Eliminate the weakest links and home in on what excites you. It should feel like an "aha, yes!"

If you cannot see the answer right away, go within to the realm of imagination. Feel your way through. Visualize not just with sight but with yearning. Does the light of the sun make you feel hopeful? Does the cool rain make you feel relaxed? Would an art class expand your capacity to imagine many things, or would taking a science class?

The X mark in 2 of Swords is like a railroad crossing sign. Redirect that train of thought into brighter and more positive avenues of expression. Say "what if" as if you can't wait for something to happen. "What if I saw a shooting star tonight? What if my cute neighbor asked me out?" Let the future shine its beacon for you. It will all make sense in due time.

Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow)

Ace of Cups, Reconciliation

Have you been staying up way too late trying to figure everything out? Please give yourself a brain curfew: no problem solving or saving the day after 10 pm! I'm getting that you may tend to ruminate on the same strong emotions. For some I'm getting that there is a crush here. There's inconsistent text messaging. I know it's easy to get too nervous about their reply, but try to wait until at least the next day to hear back. They may need time to formulate their words right. They may not even see your message straight away. Take it all in stride and sleep on it; if they want to reach out to you, then they eventually will.

For others in this pile, you may be going through a rough patch with another person right now and could be wondering how things will pan out. Give them time to respond, they could still be processing it. Stay on the more positive end of things with the idea that things will work themselves out. I feel like if you can manage this in a relaxed and non hurried way, the knot will untangle easily. The coffee in the Ace of Cups is very hot, so give it a chance to cool.

There is opportunity in your near future to make up for something that went awry due to a miscommunication error. You may get a chance to make up for a test, appointment, or an interview. You will receive grace for any mishaps. Remember that tomorrow won't necessarily be the same as today, so cherish both the good you have now along with the good that soon awaits you.

Pile 4 - Movement (Green)

IX Hermit, Devotion

Looks like things are progressing faster than you even thought they would. You may be blinking your eyes in partial disbelief: could this ball really be rolling? Indeed, thanks to your efforts, goals are being met and results are more evident by the day. You eschewed a lot of distractions to make this work, so give yourself a pat on the back for the level of commitment you put into it. Some of you in this pile may have just graduated, if so then congratulations! But try not to get too comfortable with your laurels, for you have a long road ahead of you in whatever you do next. This one completion is the start of many.

Does that thrill you? If so, wonderful! On the other hand, some of you may be feeling uncertain about continuing. You may be reviewing your options to see if this really is worth pursuing. Something that requires a lot of dedication and focus on it to the exclusion of all else… yeah, I can see how that can get tiring after a long time. There are folks who can get their Master's right after their Bachelor's, or have another child right after the first, but people can also happily move on to what feels more right for them instead.

It's okay to stop and assess your tracks if necessary. Taking time off is not the same as quitting. It's not losing motivation, it's recovering it. This is your passion and your discipline, not anyone else's. If you need to give other parts of your life more room to breathe, then do so with the confidence that your great work will wait for you.

Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise)

4 of Wands, Hospitality

Have you been stuck with something for a while? There's a strong sense of a blockage that is being eroded away over time. This process can be sped up by allowing the ice to thaw a little more. "Break the ice." You may be wanting to open up and spend more quality time with other people but don't know how. Or you could be faced with meeting new people and being nervous about interacting with them. Even more so if they're roommates. A few people in this pile could be moving or have just moved. This is a chance to ease up and get to know new people.

This blockage could be a result of the past and of anxiety. The sound of a turning doorknob just jumpscared me as I typed the last sentence. You may benefit from learning about social anxiety and how to manage it. It's not an overnight job for you to fix this, though, but to just be aware of it and not allow it to get in the way of positive change in your life.

If you're struggling to figure out how to deal with meeting new people, I would suggest looking up videos or how-tos on social interaction, especially if a certain etiquette is required for an event. Learn about conversation starters and fun things you could do together like hosting a game night. Practice makes perfect, and over time the blockage will melt into the stream.

Pile 6 - Trust (Blue)

3 of Swords, Conversion

You have a very soft and tender outlook on life, which makes it all the more painful when reality doesn't conform to such a compassionate vision. It doesn't always try to respond to vulnerability in appropriate ways. Much of the time, this isn't from natural events as much as it stems from the ways in which people can treat one another cruelly. You've had some toxic people in your life who have put you through the wringer and attempted to squeeze every ounce of kindness they could from you. Making light of this pain to them only resulted in further deflection and antagonism on their part. The only outcome was to salvage whatever you could and pray for the best.

It is not your job to change their closed minded perspectives. They're on their own, here. Do not concern yourself with their messy inner world and lose any more of your energy. Also, do not attempt to regain what energy has been lost through bargaining either, as much as it hurts to press onward without looking back. You will recover, but you have to move on first and prioritize what you deeply care about most (you included).

There will come a time when your heart will be healed so you can see the brighter side of human connection again. All the beauty that your gentle soul is seeking is still there, shrouded by layers of protective petals that will one day bloom again and your life will truly flourish. For now, this is a time to give yourself all the comfort you can.

Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet)

XII Hanged Man, Spring

I get the feeling that you've been waiting quite a while for some good results to come in. This could either be from something that you started back in the spring, or are waiting to see results which may come around springtime. It is a season of flowers, so you may be waiting for this thing to blossom--that is, to be fully presentable to the public in some way. To have something to show for the time you put in. Like "hey, this is what I've been working on, this came from the seeds I planted." It could be growing in a direction unlike what you're used to, leaving you wondering how it could succeed in such unusual and burdensome conditions.

Lean on your inner guidance when it comes to the right timing. I don't believe that you're currently in a space where you need to push so hard for the best results. You can let things move at their own pace. Over tending to anything can end up in just as much trouble as neglect. There's only so much you can do before you have to let the flower do the growing and blooming for itself.

It's not always easy to sit in the place of uncertainty with the idea that doing more will provide more. But sometimes less is more. What you're creating is coming to fruition and may even turn out better than you expected. Trust in both the knowledge you've earned over time from learning lessons, as well as your natural intuition, to help you decide when it's time to take action.

Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

7 of Swords, Gossip

Let your heart lead the way here, not your worries over what others will think. Sure, you may end up with some people talking about you, but opportunities will keep passing by if you wait for everyone else to catch up to you. Leaning too much on everyone else's perspectives will only distort the vision you have for your own life journey. We all have unique journeys to go on, but unconditional kindness remains at the center of the Love card, the one thing that brings us together. Following life from a heart centered place may result in having others glance over and whisper, but that shouldn't distract you.

There is a rather delicate message here about dealing with friendships, colleagues, or possibly even family. You may have a tricky situation between several other people right now who have beef not with you but with each other. They may be coming to you to air their grievances and ask for advice.

If you care about both of these people, then it's best to approach this issue as diplomatically and impartially as possible and avoid feeding into the conflict. What would an enlightened mindset do in this situation? How would you want the other person to behave if they were in your shoes? Come from a place of pure compassion. They may choose to make amends or not, it's up to them. If their butting heads is bringing you down, it's always okay to step back and take a break. You are not responsible for what's going on in their heart, only your own, so protect yours well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[neyafromfrance95]

i loved galadriel's arc in s2, but not as much as in s1 and there are many different ways in which it could have been better.

i loved that she was shown to struggle with the denial of her taboo feelings for halbrand and with reconciling them with her hatred of sauron, now motivated even more to personally slay him. i loved how she was annoyed for not being in the leadership position instead of elrond, showcasing her ambition for power, leadership and personal persecution of sauron. i loved the battle, how she was the one to start fighting and did not stop fighting even tho sauron almost begged her to.

i agree with everyone that the dialogue was weak. however, i don't think it's really about the dialogue. i never believed galadriel would give in to evil!sauron (her willpower, pride and fear wouldn't allow it), but the temptation for power and the recognition of connection are there, so i wanted to see this crisis and angst displayed more intensely. i can forgive it, as it can be explained by galadriel setting her mind and spirit on blocking her personal emotions off and switching to the kill mode. but only if we see that personal, intimate struggle moving forward.

if she really overcame her interpersonal conflict with sauron and the darkness... it would simply be so out of character and inconsistent, that the only explanation would be that sauron really stole her soul and replaced her with a watered down galadriel who would give a lesser headache to elrond and gil-galad, lol.

first of all, there was no temptation in that battle, really. sauron didn't propose to her for the second time, he was set on breaking her down till she gave in to him (again, nenya=galadriel). yeah, he told her that the door was still open but he sought submission from her this time around (s1 finale was darkly romantic, s2 finale was darkly romantic too but even more so darkly erotic, if u know what i mean).

it doesn't make sense for galadriel to be devoted to and obsessed with slaying sauron for centuries only to get over it after battling him only once. it doesn't make sense for her interpersonal conflict to be resolved after the interaction where she emotionally closed herself off after the whole season of displaying the scandalous levels of mental illness and loser behavior over that man, lol.

i think what the majority of haladriels are discontent with, is this impersonal attitude galadriel had throughout the battle (save for a very impactful and significant reaction she had to halbrand, and other microexpressions). and i agree, i want her to scream at sauron for killing her brother, for betraying her, for deceiving her ("it was just an illusion" counts tho), not about the free peoples of the middle-earth.

but here is the thing. the reason why i feel uneasy about galadriel's attitude here, it that i'm anxious about the possibility that they won't get to come face to face in the future to have this sort personal of clash (fingers crossed 🤞 that the mind-palace is re-introduced in s3). but i do believe that it makes sense for galadriel to be closed off as a defense mechanism when she first saw sauron. he was changed, so she felt detached from this new form she wasn't adjusted to. it would make sense for her to "explode" emotionally only as the culmination of a slow realization that halbrand *is* sauron.

and as for the darkness, it would feel weird for her to be "healed" from her own darkness by the two men who kept lowkey "slutshaming" her.

now, there is a hope that they are going to *subvert* the viewer expectations and she is going to experience the effects of finally having touched the darkness, learning how to find the light even though there is the darkness in her. that would make for a far more interesting character journey than her not having to make decisions and mistakes bc she is an one-dimensional good girl.

as for the things i would have loved to have seen in s2:

galadriel being alienated and bullied as a child and only having finrod who understood her was hinted at in the beginning, but it would have been great if we had some more flashbacks expanding on this in s2. it would help the audiences to really sympathize with galadriel's obsession with revenge more.

and it would have been so cool to see the flashbacks into her quests and crusades, her knight adventures, how she actually started to *enjoy* fighting and power while the darkness crept into her heart, to the point it became part of her, to the point sauron became an intrinsic part of her identity. after all, she was so obsessed with the idea of slaying him that she turned her back on heaven, her home and risked literally everything for him.

and i mostly talk about galadriel/haladriel in this blog, but i have to say, im disappointed with the overall treatment of the female characters in this season. my third favorite character after gal/sau is miriel and i feel like she was sidelined in numenor plotline too. going into the sea was epic and showcased how worthy and dignified she is, and i absolutely adore her chivalric romance with elendil, but it still felt like they could have done much more with her, or at least given her a pov.

idk, i hope s3 improves these flaws of s2 and doesn't cater to the incels, but their loudness is worrisome.

[i-heart-hxh]

I just want to say I appreciate you for staying positive about killugon. Admittedly, I’ve given up on them. Maybe it’s too many angsty fanfics or metas I’ve seen that basically make it seem like they’ll never be close again but it’s nice to see some people still going strong with this ship! Hopefully one day I can enjoy this ship again the way I used to. Currently everything I read about them in fandom just depresses me.

Hi anon!

I'm sad to hear the negativity has gotten to you to this degree! It actually surprises me how much the fandom seems to think what happened between them can't be fixed. I've been into HxH for almost 8 years now and as time has gone on and I've revisited the series and analyzed it deeply and discussed it with others, I've only grown more certain that things between them will be okay--assuming Togashi can reach that point in the series. And right now is a great time to be hopeful about the future of HxH, with Togashi working so actively on the series the past few months.

Sooo many of the messages in my inbox amount to "Is there really hope? Are Gon and Killua really going to reunite and reconcile? Or is their relationship hopelessly broken?" so even though I feel like a bit of a broken record addressing this topic so much, it seems like it's a topic people really want addressed, so here's some more of my thoughts. (Trying to make my answers on this topic at least a little different each time even if some repetition is inevitable...!)

Here's this post I made of some of the reasons I anticipate a Gon and Killua reunion and fixing their relationship. And here's this eye-opening analysis post of the separation, yet again, which also offers hope.

So much of HxH is about second chances. It's about how love and human connections transform people and make life worth living, no matter how painful and difficult it may be. At the end of Chimera Ant Arc, Meruem and Komugi (who are, by the way, absolutely parallels for Gon and Killua) find their meaning for living in each other, and decide to stay together even knowing the only way they can be together is in the afterlife. If you trace back this scene to all the factors and character moments that made it possible, it goes all the way back to Gon extending kindness to Killua and changing his life. I believe Gon and Killua are on a path wherein they will ultimately find their meaning in each other and vow to stay together again (albeit without the dying part).

Gon and Killua are the protagonists of the series, and they are emblematic of the themes of HxH. Looking at the themes of HxH and the worldview it presents, it doesn't make sense for Gon and Killua to experience this horrible traumatic incident as the young teens they are, then never ever get to fix and resolve it even though they're both clearly upset to have to leave each other and they definitely have more to say to each other. Why show them feeling dissatisfied and unhappy to separate if they'll never get a chance to fix things and be happy together again? Do you really think that's the direction Togashi wants to go in, with the focus of the series and the repeated emphasis on how the hope we can find in a cruel, painful world rests in the connections we have with the people around us?

It's meaningful that they make each other so happy and transformed each others' lives. It's meaningful that even now in merch and artwork and such, they're portrayed as a pair. It's meaningful that a huge chunk of the audience so desperately wants to see them together again, and I'm certain Togashi is well aware of that. These two are at the heart of what makes HxH so wonderful and moving.

It's okay to take a break from the ship if it's not bringing you joy. Sometimes I get frustrated by takes and interpretations I see about it, too, trust me. Ultimately, it's here for you whenever you want to revisit it, and there are plenty of fanworks with happy endings and reconciliation between them if you need something to tide you over until canon hopefully resolves things between them. But do what feels right for yourself--it's okay to focus on something fluffier and less complex if that's what you need for now. I hope eventually you can come to see it with more hope, as I have lots of hope for their future--and I don't think it's unwarranted at all. 💖

[allwormdiet]

Worm Cast Impressions (Arcs 1 to 7)

Easy money says some of these characters are about to fucking die so I'm pausing now to jot down my impressions of everybody who's managed to make an impact (and one or two characters whose lack of impact is kind of impressive)

Undersiders

Taylor Hebert: Character of all time. Simultaneously sanest and least sane person in the entire universe. Deeply concerned about keeping hold of her moral core, constantly innovating in ways to inflict violence on her enemies real and imagined. Has never fully finished thinking her actions through once in her entire life, people keep thinking she's the most cautious girl they know. Her first kiss was partly because she liked the boy and partly because she wanted to piss off her bully. I am cheering for her more often than not and I am so scared of what this story is going to do to her.

Brian Laborn: I want to study him in a lab. Team leader entirely by default, as near as I can tell. Hates using violence as a means of control, really good at using violence as a means of control, seems to default to using violence as a means of control when he's upset. I don't think he's normal about women. Desperately trying to be so so so boring, thinks he's perfectly rational even though he is just as unhinged as his teammates, I suspect that he has built a mental prison with twenty layers of protection around all thoughts that would suggest he is anything other than Normal and Strong and Reliable. Maybe turned on by efficient displays of violence?

Lisa Wilbourn: She is so charming and I am so scared of what's actually going on in her head. I think Taylor's best friend but definitely her biggest enabler. Stop lying and let me know what is going on in your head, I know more about Alec and Rachel than I know about you. Concerned that she's only nominally concerned about Coil being a heinous fucker. Desperately hoping the air can be cleared so I stop worrying about whether she's going to destroy Taylor or something. She has to know Taylor is a wannabe hero.

Alec: The fact that he's really only done one thing that I consider morally in the wrong is kind of incredible when looking at the fact that he's a recovering sex cult enforcer who started living something approaching a normal human life as a homeless preteen. He's had three years to jury rig a sense of humanity and morality mostly on his own and the end result is a selfish lazy jerk, and yet the fact that this is what he's managed to come up with on his own is, without sarcasm, worthy of a fucking prize. He's actually really good at this all things considered. Actually a little bummed that he didn't oppose Coil for the whole Dinah creepfest.

Rachel Lindt: Rachel Lindt is maybe the best character so far. Autistic dog girl who only tolerates human society so she can better feed and care for her animals. I'd say something like "I'd kill for her" but there's no way I could do that any better than her dogs and she'd call me stupid. Only thing against her at this point is the slur usage, which is rough to deal with, but I suspect part of that is just being written in 2011.

Loved Ones

Danny Hebert: You sad bastard. Please survive long enough to reconcile with your daughter. I know he can't provide any material support for the problems his daughter has been dealing with, that the bullies are too well-protected and there's basically nothing that he can do about parahuman shit, but I wish she would allow him to be there for her. Maybe he'd be uncool about it, sure, but maybe not. Makes me sad to think about.

Aisha Laborn: This girl is in dire need of someone to have her back and also, like, pay attention to her; Brian is the closest one to actually doing it but I don't think his best efforts are enough. I know she's gonna be an Undersider in the future so hopefully I get to have a more thorough impression of her, and one that's not marred by the fucking Mercedes metaphor, Jesus Christ that was a rough passage to get through.

Protectorate

Armsmaster: I'd probably like him more if he wasn't so up his own ass about being in charge and earning glory. My suspicion is that he's basically a good guy with some bad habits that nobody can check him on, which has spiraled out of control. Might unironically consider a teenage criminal his nemesis, which is funny but not a great sign of his priorities.

Miss Militia: My prior complaints about her possibly inappropriate response to holding Regent hostage are entirely subsumed by the fact that the last twenty-six years of her life have been lived on terms set by the Protectorate. She was nearly devoured by the machinery of empire and now she's become a component of empire that feeds upon others, and she hasn't even realized it. She never had a goddamn chance.

Velocity: Nothing to really say about him, except there has to have been a way to design his costume so that a teenager with unaugmented strength couldn't take him out with a single blow to the testicles.

Assault and Battery: The name theming feels a bit weird (what, if they got a third would their name be Coercion?) but whatever. I like the idea of a duo with complementary powers, I guess, but there's not really much else here.

Dragon: On the one hand she's in charge of the Birdcage and is friends with Armsmaster, but on the other hand she clearly hates the Birdcage for what it's made her complicit in, and maybe Armsmaster is good to have as a friend. Jury's out, unlike on Canary.

Wards

Gallant: The best way I can think to describe this guy is "blandly nice." It's like if "inoffensive" could be a personality trait. Glory Girl could do better than him, probably, but to be fair she could also do a lot worse.

Clockblocker: I think he's the funny one? Or at least the deliberately unserious one, which is the same thing. The first character confirmed to have developed entomophobia as a result of Skitter, probably not the last. Stopped a bomb from destroying the East Coast which feels like it should get more attention.

Vista: World's most powerful thirteen-year-old. Who deployed her to stop that bomb and fight those Nazis. I want names.

Kid Win: No sense of proportion on this kid, my god. Shooting a laser cannon meant to deal with threats that are theoretically rated higher than Lung into a bank filled with hostages? He's lucky nobody died.

Shadow Stalker: What the actual fuck is going on with her. Who hunts other human beings with broadhead arrows? That's for making someone bleed to death. If she was doing it to the fucking Nazis then that'd be fine, but no, it's Grue and Taylor we've either seen or heard about her getting rough with. Either the Protectorate knows she's a maniac and is letting it rock until she gets herself caught, or else they don't realize what she's doing in which case someone is not doing their job.

Browbeat: Absolute nonentity, to the point it's almost distracting. The description of the bank fight suggests he lost to Regent, which I think means that Regent got close enough to a guy with super strength to knock him out with a taser and didn't get his block knocked off. No wonder the Protectorate wants to trade him out, dude's got nothing going on.

PRT

Director Piggot: I don't like the organization she works for, because the vibes beyond the city level feel rancid, but for Piggot I mostly just sympathize with her. She's trying to corral a bunch of teenagers and adults, who all have some kind of horrific trauma shaping them and also giving them powers that are baseline as dangerous as a fucking gun, into something resembling a fully effective government agency, with no signs of support from the other cities or the higher-ups despite the fact that the literal fucking Nazis have her heroes outnumbered and have apparently had it that way for decades. Let this woman take a vacation or something.

New Wave

Glory Girl: Absolute nerd who seems to love being a superhero, and also making Nazis ragdoll in her spare time. I'd love to end it there, but unfortunately she's got some bad habits; girl desperately needs to kill the cop in her brain and get her impulsiveness under control, the fact that she ragdolled the Nazi on accident and threatened to pull favors in the judicial system to send a first-time offender (and Tattletale) into the Birdcage don't reflect great on her ability to keep a lock on things in high-stress situations.

Panacea: Pathetic girl who is clearly sitting on a pressure cooker of issues. I know what those all are but I'm not going to comment on any of it until we're actually there. For now it's mostly just a pity thing.

Azn Bad Boys

Lung: I was harsh on his characterization at first but I'll admit with time and context I'm not nearly as quick about that. He definitely still sucks, the guy literally murders his lieutenant as a matter of bruised pride and making his life more convenient. Also still cannot shake the feeling that he was basically idling in Brockton Bay for most of his career with the kind of power he has on tap.

Bakuda: She's a monster, but that also kind of oversimplifies things. She's clever, arrogant, grandstanding, and gleefully violent, even as she has the capacity to admire the architecture that another Tinker has crafted and to treat Lung as something resembling a friend. I don't think there's a world where she triggers and is, like, a good person, but I think this was one of the worse lives she could have wound up living. Also, y'know, she's dead.

Empire Eighty-Eight

Kaiser: Rancid smug piece of Nazi shit. Stupid too btw, why are you bothering with street-level robberies and extortion when you own a fucking pharmaceutical corporation? Why are you fighting out in the streets and meeting with other Nazi capes when you could be acting through proxies and bankrolling far-right parahuman cells across the country? Like I'm glad he isn't smart enough to think like that but fuck me.

Purity: Like, actually for real dumb as a bag of hammers. Kaiser barely has to try to wrap her back around his finger and she divorced him; Tattletale barely has to try to get her to back down and she thinks Tattletale exposed her identity to the public. Truly nothing in that skull of hers.

Hookwolf: Nazi capes fuck off

Stormtiger: Nazi capes fuck off

Cricket: Nazi capes fuck off

Rune: Nazi capes fuck off

Night: Nazi capes fuck off

Fog: Nazi capes fuck off

Wait does Coil's gang genuinely not have a name

Coil: Everything about this guy just pisses me the fuck off honestly. He presents himself as some kind of lesser evil, a firm but gentle hand that can guide all facets of the city to a brighter future, but he doesn't have the intelligence or vision to back any of it up; he displays nothing but brute force manipulation tactics involving bribery and blackmail, he's tunnel-visioned and cruel to the point that it ruins his own long-term plans, and before I forget everything about his thing with Dinah gives me fucking hives and I want to beat his skull in with my bare hands. I hope Taylor gets to kill him. Oh, or maybe Dinah.

Nameless sniper: Actively cooler and more competent than Coil.

Travelers

Trickster: genuinely cannot trust a man wearing a top hat in the year 2011, not even as a bit

Sundancer: what the fuck went so wrong with your life that your power is The Fucking Sun

Faultline and Co.

Faultline: Ironically not a super strong read off of her in terms of personality. Seems generally pretty cool going off of how she interacts with and leads her team. Very funny that she has a rivalry with Tattletale.

Newter: Little worried that he's selling his body secretions as a drug to other teenagers but if a parahuman only has one red flag that's pretty good actually

Gregor the Snail: This dude rocks, actually, love the vibes he gives off. Shame that people hate him for being fat and a mutant.

Labyrinth: Would like to see more of her when she's back in reality, otherwise not much to go off of. Cool power.

Other Parahumans

Scion: Fucking creepy

Marquis: probably Panacea's dad, calling that shot.

Paige McAbee: Justice For Paige McAbee.

Dinah Alcott: not really a character yet so much as a particularly horrifying MacGuffin but Jesus Christ what an awful fate

Uber and Leet: Gamers should be more oppressed. Also they beat the shit out of sex workers on a livestream and aren't considered serious enough threats to be consigned to the Birdcage, which feels pretty bad.

Heartbreaker: Haven't even met this guy and he sounds fucking awful. Please god somebody take him down.

Normal Humans

Emma Barnes: I need to understand what's wrong with her. Something happened that gave her the temperament and skillset of a CIA torture technician before freshman year of high school and she turned that onto her best friend for reasons totally unbeknownst to us.

Sophia Hess: I don't know I feel that the one bully who does the most physical harm and acts the most aggressive is the black one. Pretty bad I think. She's also clearly got something going on in her head but tbh that feels like it's going to be more straightforward than whatever is wrong with Emma.

Madison Clements: I feel like she's just here so that Taylor could be bullied without overusing the other two. What's your stake in this? Why do you give a shit? Does it matter? Probably not.

Mr. Gladly: I hated every teacher I ever knew who acted like this and I hate him even more for being utterly useless in protecting a student from blatant harassment. Fuck off.

[incomingalbatross]

Things that make Weirdmageddon a top-tier finale:

Every victory and ally the characters gain is essential to pursuing the next victory.

Dipper needed Wendy to reach the bubble, needed to talk down Gideon to reach Mabel, and needed to reconcile with Mabel to do anything. Then they needed to reach the Shack to get Shacktron, needed Shacktron to reach Ford, needed Ford and all their previous character development to build the Zodiac—oops! not enough character development! REVERSAL! But they still pulled out a win from having all four Pineses in the Fearamid, which wouldn't have been possible except as salvage from their previous victories.

It all builds really nicely—it's easy to get your characters running in circles to fit in enough action and/or screentime (see certain Classic Who serials), but that doesn't happen here.

Personal issues and plot problems were interwoven in a way that genuinely made resolving the former a basic step in resolving the latter.

The big problems at the start of the finale were the rift between Dipper and Mabel, the older, deeper rift between Stan and Ford, and... well, the Rift. And Bill. The finale is able to resolve all of these things together because it is, in fact, crucial that the Pineses all be able to work together; they need each other to defeat Bill. This means that, for instance, Mabel and Dipper's reconciliation is the urgent first step on every level, personal and situational (neither of them will accomplish anything until Mabel's free), and that Stan and Ford's reconciliation is a necessary condition for the last step of beating Bill. It's seamless—no one has to take time out of the plot to talk about their feelings, because the plot can only move if their feelings are being addressed.

Even more, the action works in such a way that Stan and Ford have to show character growth to defeat Bill and the way they defeat Bill then results in healing for both of them (Stan gets to be a hero while Ford gets to let go of his hero complex).

Gave time to addressing the big themes and made them structurally important, too.

This ties in to the point above, but... the fact that Dipper and Mabel's conflict (the manifestation of a much longer-running tension of "is it possible to grow up and still be happy? is it possible to be sure we'll stay in a close and healthy relationship, and not lose each other?") is given its full weight. Dipper and Mabel have the conversation they need to convince themselves, each other, and the audience that this ghost has been expelled from their futures. That's big.

And the themes continue consistently throughout the finale! They answer the questions raised by Stan and Ford's estrangement—first through Dipper and Mabel and then repeatedly through the rest of the cast—with consistent reassurance and hope for the future. It's thematically sound. That's not easy to balance with plot progression in a way that makes sense, but like. The plot can only progress to a happy ending if these themes are tested and found to be true.

Plot development and emotional impacts hinged on information the audience already had.

When the finale revealed new information (the zodiac's function, for instance), it was almost always answering specific questions the show had previously raised for fans (what's that zodiac about??). Not always true—the barrier around the town was not foreshadowed—but a very high percentage of the time.

More, the moments with a big emotional punch hinge on us realizing something at the same time as the characters and sharing their reactions to that thing, rather than reacting to their reactions. That sounds clumsy, but you know what I mean—"Grammar, Stanley." Ford pulling out the memory gun. "Get off me, Waddles!" Ford holding out the picture of the Stan O' War. The finale builds on what we already know so strongly that we can react to good or bad events alongside the characters.

(Well, except for the exact moment revealing the twin switch, I guess. We are not having the same emotional reaction as Bill Cipher there. ;P)

A fully satisfying send-off.

After the plot is resolved, and even after the eucatastrophe moment of Stan getting his memory back, we get to stick around and see for sure that everything's okay. The twins turn thirteen. Stan and Ford plan to go sailing. Soos gets the Mystery Shack. Everyone in Gravity Falls is fine. Everyone gets to say goodbye. We end on repeated reassurances that the thing the story most highlighted as crucial but uncertain will, in fact, happen—that they'll stay a family and they'll all be happy.

I'm not saying every story needs to end with a wrap party, but it was the right move for Gravity Falls, and they nailed it.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Baby, don't cry

Hope Mikaelson X Male Reader

Request: Could you write a hope mikaelson x male reader. Where the reader is the son of Dean Winchester and has been dating hope for awhile but only finds out she is a supernatural when he finds her fighting a monster that he was hunting and they have a massive argument and they don't talk for awhile but in the end they reconcile with eachother.

If you don't mind writing that?

You have been hunting for a monster on your own. You wanted to prove to your dad and your uncle that you can hunt on your own. You text your girlfriend Hope and you wait for her text…

You- babe sorry, I can't make it to our date. Maybe this weekend???

Hope doesn't text back and she hasn't read your text. You drive to the woods while listening to classic rock music. You stopped the car in the woods. You get out of the car then you went to open the trunk. You take out the shotgun and bullets, then you start to walk into the woods to kill a monster.

While walking in the woods, you hear a loud growl. You have been trying to find and kill a monster called Arachne Spider. You run toward the loud growl then you see your girlfriend Hope.

“Hope!?” You said.

“Y/n!? What are you doing here?” Hope asked.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

The monster was going to attack you and Hope. You used your shotgun to slow it down, then she used her magic to kill it.

“What the hell!? Hope yelled.

“Since when you can use magic!?” You asked

“Are you a hunter, Y/n?” Hope asked.

“Yes, I'm a hunter, and I come from a family who are hunters. And how do you have magic?” You said.

“I’m a witch, vampire, and a werewolf which that makes me a tribrid. Why you didn't tell me that you are a hunter? You hunt down people who are like me?” Hope said.

“Don't blame all of this on me! You didn't tell me that you are a tribrid. We hunt down creatures that kill people” You said.

You and Hope start to argue and started to yell at each other. You and Hope haven't been dating for too long, but have kept secrets from each other. You weren't sure how she would react that you are a hunter.

“Wait… your last name is Winchester so that means Dean Winchester is your dad!?” Hope yelled.

“Yeah, he is my dad,” You said

“Oh, I heard about him and everyone else, your dad and his brother are not liked,” Hope said.

“So? We hunt down monsters and kill them… wait I-I” You said.

“How do I know you won't kill me or my friends?!” Hope yelled.

“I’m not a crazy person that kills anything-”

“I'm not just anything, Y/n!” Hope yelled.

You and Hope kept yelling at each other. She is feeling frustrated and angry at you for lying to her. You are feeling the same way and you are being stubborn.

“We are done!” Hope yelled.

“Fine!” You yelled.

You and Hope walked away from each other. You are driving back to the bunker and you are breathing hard. Hope wanted to be alone, but her friends noticed something is wrong.

——

Your father Dean is cooking and he is making burgers with bacon.

“Y/n, why aren't you eating?” Dean asked.

“I got into a fight with my girlfriend,” You said.

“Young love,” Dean said.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“She found out that I'm a hunter and I found out that… um, she is -”

“Spill it. She is what?” Dean said.

“A tribrid,” You said.

“A tribrid? What is that?” Dean asked.

“She is a vampire-werewolf-witch. We didn't tell each other because… well I wasn't sure how she was going to react to that I'm a hunter. We argued then we yelled at each other then we said stuff that we shouldn't have” You said.

“I can't believe that you are dating someone who is a tribrid! Y/n” Dean said.

“Dad, I really like her! I got to know her and she made me happy. She doesn't hurt people” You said.

“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

“She could have killed me when she found out that I'm a hunter. But she didn't, we just got into an argument. She gets me, she likes my sense of humor and she cares about me” You said.

“Dean, she isn't the enemy. I know you go gun blazing” Sam said.

Dean knows that Sam is right. He can see that you are hurt and you want your girlfriend back. Your father sits next to you and put his hand on your shoulder.

“Son, not all relationships are going to be easy and filled with rainbows. If you think this girl is the one then work out. And if everything is okay then we would want to meet her. We will take down the symbols” Dean said.

“Who are you? Dad, is that you?” You said.

“What?” Dean asked.

Sam laughed.

“Uncle Sam usually gives good advice not you. No offense, dad but your answer to everything is guns and pie” You said.

“Ouch. Eat your food, Y/n” Dean smiled.

You start to eat your food and you tell them how you met Hope.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You and Hope haven't spoken to each other in days. You have been staying in your room for days and you don't leave your room. Your dad Dean tries his best to get you to come out of the room but it doesn't work.

Hope still has feelings for you but she isn't sure what to say to you or if you want to see her.

Josie and Lizzie didn't want Hope to be alone. They are trying their best to cheer her up, kinda working. Tonight is raining hard with thunderstorms and Hope looks out the window.

“Did you call him or text?” Lizzie asked.

“No, because I don't know what to say” Hope sighed.

“Just tell him how you feel. Maybe he would feel the same way. He cares about you because if he didn't he would have attacked you. Just talk to him” Josie said.

“I think she doesn't have to call him,” Lizzie said.

“What?” Hope and Josie said.

“He is outside in the rain. He just waved at me” Lizzie said.

Hope and Josie run towards the window. You are soaked and you are waving at Hope. They rushed downstairs and Hope opened the door.

“Y/n, what are you doing in the rain?” Hope asked.

“I had to see you, Hope. I know we haven't been dating for long, but I really care about you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my family being hunters. I want to make it work with you and I don't have a problem with you being a tribrid. I missed you” You said.

Lizzie got a towel for you, then Hope wrapped the towel around you.

“I missed you too, Y/n. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you and I was scared to tell you” Hope said.

She grabbed the towel and pulls you into a kiss. You and Hope are smiling at each other. You kissed her back. They get dry clothes for you to wear and Lizzie helped Hope to make soup for you.

——

You take Hope to the bunker and you go inside, but Hope couldn't go inside.

“Strange I can't go in,” Hope said.

“I thought he took it down,” You said.

“Guess not,” Hope said.

You go inside and there is a symbol by the door. You messed up the symbol

“Now, you can come inside” You smiled

“Thank you,” Hope said.

Hope goes inside the bunker.

“So… you live here with your dad and uncle?” Hope said.

“Yes with Cas well sometimes,” You said.

“Who?” Hope asked.

“Dad, this is Hope my girlfriend. Hope, that is my Uncle Sam and that is Cas. Cas is an angel who used to follow God’s rules” You said.

“He doesn't look like an angel,” Hope said.

“If you see my true form then you would die,” Cas said.

“Really?” Hope asked.

“Yeah, really,” You said.

“We won't hurt you or your friends. You make my son happy and that is good enough for me” Dean said.

“He makes me happy too,” Hope said.

Later, you give a tour of the bunker with Hope. Then you showed her your bedroom then you and Hope sat on the bed. After a while of talking, you and Hope stare into each other's eyes then slowly lean in and you kissed her first. you and Hope start to kiss each other.

She gently lies down and you continue to kiss her. Her hands are behind your neck and you can't stop smiling.

“Where are they?” Dean asked.

“I saw them in his room,” Sam said.

Dean went to stop you and Hope and Sam is laughing. The door is closed without knocking, your father barged in.

“Who wants bacon!?” Dean said very loud.

That made you jump and you fell off the bed. You and Hope were just kissing each other nothing more.

“Dad!” You yelled.

You stand up and Hope did the same.

“Keep the door open. You two need air so let's go eat bacon” Dean said.

“Not cool” You mumbled.

“Let's go before the bacon gets cold. Oh, and Y/n wipe the lipstick off your lips” Dean said.

Hope couldn't help to giggle. You used your shirt to wipe the lipstick off your lips. You and Hope followed your dad to the kitchen.

[gerec]

dofp fics that have a happy ending for cherik?

Most of these fics take place post-DOFP or they are DOFP fix-its / AUs. They are all excellent and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did, Anon!

fathers and sons by M_Leigh

“I have an – interest – in Peter Maximoff,” Erik said, somewhat grudgingly, glaring. “A – familial – interest –”

Everybody stared at him.

“In that – mutantkind is one – large – family –” Erik said valiantly, if pathetically. 

“Oh, shit,” Alex said. “No way. No way.”

This far but no further by niniblack

“Lorna, this is Erik. Can you say hi?”

Lorna peeks out at him and mumbles, “Hi.”

“She’s cute,” Erik comments.

I know, Charles thinks. She looks like you.

Or: the one where Charles doesn’t tell Erik that joining the mile high club resulted in a baby.

Jail Break by blarfkey (Come Together series)

It's totally normal in Suburban America for the dad to pick up his rebellious teenager from jail, right? Even when it's the Pentagon instead of the local police station, and your dad is a Mutant Supremacist Assassin and America's Most Wanted who didn't post bail so much as murdered all the guards?

Whatever. Peter will take what he can get at this point, even if it means the most painfully awkward road trip in the history of the universe.

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones by valancysnaith

Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Through the Barricades by starandrea (Through the Barricades series)

Erik and Charles learned to live without each other once. It's harder the second time--so before they even discuss it, they've decided not to try. (Erik accidentally moves into the mansion without anyone but Charles noticing for days. He may be the first to return, but he won't be the last.)

Hope by daymarket

A near-decade of hatred can't be wiped out with a single summer, no matter how eventful that summer might be. When Erik shows up uninvited at the mansion, Charles is just barely civil enough to not throw him out, but that doesn't mean he'll let him stay.

All our past times by aesc

In 1976, three years after D.C. and Trask, Erik returns to Charles's estate for the first time. What he's looking for, he doesn't entirely know, and doesn't know if he wants to find it.

Shalom Malakh by ZairaA

When death catches up with Erik a year after the Sentinel disaster, he only has one regret: never having found a way to bridge the gap and reconcile with Charles. But death is not the end of the journey, and Erik is put right in the path of his old friend once more.

  “Okay. Let’s say I bite. Who is the hapless idiot then? The one I'm supposed to look after?”

The woman smirked. “Oh, I’m certain you'll know it once you see him.”

Always Pass on Good Advice by cygnaut

Charles realizes there’s only one person who can talk Erik out of his terrible plans: himself.

Other Futures Than These by midrashic (A Timeline of the Impossible series)

In which Cuba doesn't break them apart, but that doesn't mean that their futures are tied together. (Except that it does.)

A Days of Future Past AU where only one person can defeat the Sentinels and save the future: the man whose imprisonment and torture created them, and Charles Xavier's ex.

The Spaces Between by mainecoon76

Almost a year after Washington, Erik is working on his own to find out what became of the Sentinel research. He keeps to himself and likes it that way. But when a mutant assassin tries to murder Charles, he finds himself reluctantly drawn into an adventure that involves a dangerous plot, Charles' own agenda, a complicated relationship, and holiday celebrations at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

the pain will remind us of each other by borninsideatornado

It’s always felt alien, the way he feels about Erik. Too big for his body, too much to hold in his heart. But finally, finally, it makes sense.

Because at the end of the world, it’s him. It’s always going to be him. —

when logan lets charles see his future in days of future past, he talks to erik instead.

From Yesterday by AzarDarkstar

He stands on the edge of tomorrow but always lives today.

[accio-victuuri]

(8) cql shoot “fake” moments 📼

i am picking certain contributions in this round up made by 泡沫爱恋的晴空. there are different candies in the linked source but this post i’m making are stuff that supposedly happened during filming. if like me, and stories like this are your weakness, then you will enjoy it. maybe you’ve read some of these before or not — even saw some play out in unofficial bts.

1.) My favorite and i wanted an excuse to add an edited clip of GG singing. 🎵🎶 this may not be the actual scenario described in the fake story but fans are speculating it is.

DD's assistant would also bring DD green tea at first, but later she only brought boiled water because he wouldn't drink it. There was a quarrel between the two, gg held the green tea and drank it by himself, while dd stood by and watched Bichen. GG ignored him. dd said, "I'm thirsty.” The assistant thought that dd would be embarrassed to ask gg for green tea, so she took a cup and gave it to him. dd said it’s not green tea, gg didn’t even look at him, and dd said angrily that I don’t want to drink any more.

It's going to be swollen, and it's very embarrassing with dd's assistant next to me (xql quarrel can't help much) , gg just said that they brought it out to you and you didn’t drink it. DD was so angry that he didn’t say anything.

GG gave him the green tea and asked dd's assistant for a drink from dd's water cup. He was very helpless and said that green tea has a grudge against you. He keeps an eye on Green Tea Balabala every day. dd drank half a cup of green tea in one breath. When gg took it, he was shocked. Web, you are poisonous, you won’t give me some. dd said you drink water, zg you won't be swollen. Then the two of them reconciled inexplicably. After gg was called by the director after the show, dd asked the assistant for water. Even if I drink it, I won’t be afraid of swelling. I don’t know and I don’t dare to ask.

I tried my best to rephrase some of the words for it to make more sense but i hope you all get the gist of it. So it’s all about a quarrel they had and reconciling because of green tea. Do friends even do this kind of shit? lol. No. I’m serious. The way they fight and make up — you would think they are high school sweethearts or something. The video shared points to the time they were fighting and ignoring each other. Look at WYB completely ignoring GG while singing — and how GG was glancing at him, looking at his expression. I always thought this scene was sweet cause GG was singing that beautiful love song, now i’m seeing it in a different way. Still sweet of course, but with some edge to it. 🤍🔪

2.) The two are talking about the pokemon character grumpig, this was used by the OP as a starting point to the story but the main point is as follows: There is really too much "trash talk" between them, it's terrifying, and no one else can get in, they just understand it, and if they talk about it, they probably don't need to cut out the highlights.

LOL. There are bts content that will never see the light of day between these two because it’s either too sweet or too savage 😂😂😂😂

3.) When I was on the set before, Xiao laoshi would occasionally pout. I don’t know, maybe it was a subconscious action when he was relaxed. Then Lao Wang would say that Xiao laoshi is so cute and pout, and he would say it every time as a fake. If Xiao laoshi is tired, he will be ignored. If he is not tired, he will say something back to him.

One time I saw Teacher Xiao pouting and he took advantage of it! I drew an ugly picture, look at the picture:

Like this, do you understand? Anyway, after pouting, you put your fingers under his lips and then move them up.

4.) One day there was a scratch on the back of his hand. He said team member asked if it was scratched by someone. He said it was not, pointing to a shallow mark — and said this was scratched by him before.

If there are really scratches on the back of my hand when it is broadcast, I am confused and I don’t know anything.

*** i think this pertains to scratches in WYB’s arms lol. we think it’s jianguo but it could be from someone else 😂😂😂

5.) This next one are bits shared by an OP who allegedly met the boys for the first time a year ago, and we were extremely busy. Allegedly this OP is someone who worked with them during CQL promotions. They said that they didn’t know anything about internal entertainment: I just felt that one person who came was not worldly, and the other person was electric. Now I sincerely wish to be with you, and always listen to my heart.

• One is reserved and mature, the other is childish.

• The venue is large, the air outlet temperature of the stage is low, and all has thick coats and it’s bitingly cold. He silently took off his coat and forced the other party to put it on. He breathed silently into his hand, held the microphone to warm it, and exchanged words. To use your description, it means there are stars in my eyes.

• There are a few lines that we hum along while waiting for the venue. It was vaguely him who taught him. I just remember that he sang a line, and my fingertips were moved by the feeling of midsummer.

• His hands were turning the pair of rings intentionally or unintentionally, taking them off, putting them on, and taking them off again. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye. As they passed by, they kissed each other.

• After the curtain call, accompanied by the deafening song and shouting, a faint sound drifted through my ears several times “Life comes and goes again... I'll be by your side”

AHHHHHH THAT’S ALL IM GONNA SAY. No wonder a lot of people who worked during CQL or interacted with them became cpfs. 👀

6.) Because two people sleep together during ttysj, the younger one is more accustomed to it, and is not so scared anymore. Later, the younger one went out to film a drama alone and slept by himself at night. He was a little scared and not used to it, so he asked Brother Zhan to call him and sing "Bao" "Baby", "My precious baby, let me give you some sweets so that you can sleep well tonight." Then the younger one will not be afraid to sleep well.

this is the song, allegedly, i mean. come on. i wanna fight yibo 😤😤😤 to have xiao zhan sing you to sleep whenever you want to!!!!!

7.) Not necessarily an incident that happened while filming CQL, but during that era in 2018. Most likely from their Bazaar shoot, there is a video of this too, ZZ playing with a dog.

One time when the two of them got together, there was a staff member backstage who brought a puppy to xx and when he was holding the puppy, the puppy licked xx. The person standing next to him looked at the puppy with cold hatred. The staff member was right. Ask xxx, do you want me to lick you too??? No more follow-up, I have other things to do and I'm going out....Don't believe it's fake...

YIBO 😂😂😂😂 I added it here cause it’s so funny! He is even jealous of a puppy!!!! my favorite is how ZZ notices it too, that means he is attuned to WYB’s emotions.

8.) Guizhou has beautiful natural scenery, but the mountain roads are rugged and there are many insects.There are many people. If you want to see the waterfalls during the wet season, you have to hike. After walking for nearly forty minutes with one foot deep and one foot shallow, I happened to hear the sound of water and called out xxx, do you have a wish? When you see the waterfall and you want your wish to come true, close your eyes. It’s fake, don’t believe it.

OP here was talking about what the two of them couldn’t agree on during this interview p1. to those familiar with it, you know what i’m talking about. One was saying there is a waterfall in Guizhou, then the other said there is but they didn’t go. We know that when stuff like this happens, one of them is covering something up. In this case it’s GG.

The fake rumor explains that they did go, WYB asking XZ to close his eyes for a wish was a scheme for him to kiss XZ ( p2 ). He is right tho, if XZ’s wish was WYB, then if he closes his eyes and WYB kisses him— his wish will come true.

I CAN’T. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

WANG YIBO IS SO SMOOTH. 😤😤😤

-END.