#and asked me so many time if i needed to change something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crystallinestars · 2 days ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet - Mydeimos

Mydei won the poll so here is the promised alphabet. I hope I got him decently in-character. This was written prior to 3.1 so some things may not be accurate. If the upcoming story quest reveals information that goes against what I have written or gives me a different perspective on Mydei's character, I will go back and change things. I really hope I won't have to, though ;_;

Mydei x Fem!Reader

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

After the initial passion of sex passes, the blanket of lust lifts from his mind and Mydei is left with intense feelings of protectiveness and tenderness towards you. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose in your hair or the crook of your neck and never let go. During moments like these, Mydei’s softer side comes out and you might hear him murmur praise about how well you did, how good you felt, or feel him leave a soft kiss on your lips or temple. He also enjoys draping you across his chest and idly rubbing his hand along your back as you both bask in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. If you melt under his touch, his chest swells with pride at seeing you so sated and relaxed because of him.

Though he tries to keep his strength in check, Mydei can sometimes get absorbed in the moment and fuck you fast and rough which is why he tries to soothe and take care of you afterwards the best he knows how. Aside from the soothing back rubs, he also gets you some pomegranate juice as refreshment and asks if you’re feeling okay. A twinge of guilt will go through him if you complain about feeling sore or being too weak to walk, and to atone for being so rough on you, Mydei will volunteer to fetch you anything you might need and carry you wherever you need to go until you’re strong enough to walk on your own. He may come off as a brute, but he does genuinely care about your wellbeing.

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

Mydei hates his immortal body, but he does take pride in his physique which he honed over countless years of training and fierce battles. He is unashamed about his appearance and has no qualms about walking around practically shirtless. He doesn’t do this to for some conceited desire to be admired, though he would be a liar if he said he didn’t like your appreciative stares. Mydei’s ego soars whenever he catches you checking him out, and he smirks and teases you about it with something like “Like what you see?” Or “You’ll burn holes into my body if you stare that much.”

On you, Mydei is fond of many parts of your body, but he likes your breasts, hips, lower belly, butt, and thighs in particular. Basically, the parts of you that are soft and easy to grab. The sight of your ass jiggling or breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you greatly appeals to him, but even outside of sex, his hands often gravitate towards your thighs or stomach just because he likes how they feel. His body is all hard planes and firm muscle, but yours is soft and pliant. He enjoys that contrast.

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

Mydei likes seeing his cum decorate your skin, and if you let him, he’ll paint your chest, lower belly, or ass in his seed. He’s also a fan of cumming inside because the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy sends a surge of primal satisfaction through him.

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

Lovemaking with Mydei can get passionate and a little rough sometimes, resulting in him sporting scratch marks along his shoulders and back courtesy of your nails. The prince is so used to tolerating pain and his injuries healing quickly, that he usually doesn’t even notice the scratches. He made the mistake of walking out in public in his usual shirtless manner with his back all scratched up, only to get a few knowing looks from his soldiers and a few concerned questions about whether he got into a scuffle with a manticore.

Mydei just brushed the questions off and let his men think whatever they liked about the origin of these marks, though internally he wanted to disappear on the spot. He would not tell the truth, because as far as Mydei was concerned, it was none of their business. His private life was not something his men needed to know about.

After this incident, Mydei made sure to wait a while for the scratches to heal before heading out to avoid encountering such awkward questions again. You didn’t get off scott-free for this, however, and Mydei got his little revenge by marking up your neck in hickeys and not acting the least bit remorseful when you scolded him for it.

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

Mydei has had one sexual encounter with a one-night stand in the past to indulge his curiosity about sex, but he didn’t explore beyond that. Something about using each other’s bodies to get off while not really caring about one another left a sour taste in his mouth, so he preferred to wait until he got a long-term partner. Plus, his statuses as the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos and the face of the Kremnoan detachment meant he couldn’t afford having a reputation as a playboy by sleeping around. Any negative image he accrued would cascade down onto his people and potentially subject them to more harassment than they already faced in Okhema.

Mydei sees no shame in being sexually inexperienced and will outright tell you he’s not the most knowledgeable about sex. Similarly, he won’t judge you for your amount of experience, be it larger or smaller than his. It’s not a big deal to him because he knows it can be easily changed with some time and the right partner.

Despite his inexperience, Mydei approaches sex with confidence. He may not know everything, but he is willing to learn and adapt to your preferences and hopes you return the favor in kind. Tell him what you like and how you like it, and he’ll adjust his technique accordingly. If you’re also unsure about what you like, then Mydei will experiment to see what gets the best reactions out of you. Do you like a rougher or gentler touch? Do you like dirty talk? What if he teases your nipples just so? Don’t be shy to communicate what feels good to you or not, he wants to know how he can best please you. When it’s your turn to explore his body, Mydei will similarly give you feedback about what feels good to him or how you could adjust your technique to make it better. He may be taciturn, but he understands the importance of communication during such moments.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mydei has a lot of positions he likes. One of his absolute favorites is doggystyle because it gives him a nice view of your back and a tighter squeeze around his cock. It’s not rare for Mydei to become mesmerized by the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap to yours, and sometimes he can’t resist the urge to lightly spank your butt. Doggystyle is also nice because he can cover your body with his and mark your shoulders/neck, giving him the primal sense you’re entirely his.

He also enjoys cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. Letting you set the pace and take pleasure from his body gets Mydei going, not to mention he has a delicious view of your figure and easy access to all your curves. His hands grip your hips to help you bounce on his cock or trace the curve of your ribs to your breasts, feeling the softness of your flesh. The sight of you riding him like that can sometimes be too arousing for Mydei to handle and he struggles to hold back from thrusting upwards into you and taking over the pace. He’s a fan of reverse cowgirl for similar reasons as above, with the added bonus of watching your ass bounce on his lap. He frequently squeezes your butt when you ride him in reverse.

Additionally, Mydei enjoys sex against the wall. It can be with you facing the wall with your arms braced against it while he pounds into you from behind, or with your back against the wall and a leg hitched around his hip. He is also strong enough to support your entire weight with his arms, so there are times where fucks you while standing by holding you up by your thighs with your arms and legs wrapped around him.

If doing missionary, Mydei prefers hiking your legs up onto his shoulders or lifting your hips up for a deeper penetration and likes watching your expression melt in bliss when he hits just the right spot inside you.

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

Mydei is a straightforward and serious person, and that aspect of him is also present in the bedroom. He approaches sex with seriousness and honesty, so he means everything he says. If he says he’ll fuck you until you’re completely spent, believe him because that’s exactly what he’ll do to you. In the same vein, Mydei will take whatever you say seriously unless it’s an obvious joke, though if you have the energy to joke around then it means he’s not fucking you good enough.

Though he’s not one to act silly, Mydei isn’t without a sense of humor. It’s not rare for him to send sarcastic jabs or teasing quips to poke fun at you in a lighthearted manner all the while smirking like a handsome bastard.

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

He doesn’t fuss over his pubic hair and mostly leaves it alone but does occasionally trim it if he thinks it’s grown too long. His bush has the same ombre as the hair on his head—blond at the roots and reddish at the tips. Also has a bit of a happy trail but can shave it off if you ask.

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

Mydei isn’t the type to shower you with sweet nothings during intercourse, but he does show his love through touch. His caresses can range from tender to passionate depending on the mood. If the mood is sweet and loving, Mydei will touch you with a rare gentleness. Things like cradling your cheek in his palm, holding you close against his body, and long kisses as well as eye contact are some of the ways he expresses his feelings for you. His eyes convey more than any words he says because there is no mistaking the love and affection in his golden depths.

If the mood is passionate and carnal, Mydei’s touches are rougher. They’re imbued with his desire to possess and protect you, as well as his lust for you. These manifest in the form of hot kisses along your neck, nibbling of his teeth against your skin, the firm grasp of hands at your hips, and the hard press of his chest against your back. Mydei also has a tendency to growl “Mine” because he wants to make you his.

The prince rarely says “I love you” even during sex, but whenever you say it to him, his heart melts. He won’t show it outright, but those words hit him deep and dredge up soft and warm feelings that make him want to embrace you and never let go. So, he settles for slowing his thrusts and holding you close while pressing his mouth to yours to keep you quiet lest your words dredge up something else within him. After the blissful high of orgasm, he nuzzles into your neck and murmurs a quiet “I love you too” back.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As the last prince of Kremnos and leader of the detachment army, Mydei carries heavy burdens on his shoulders. While he can unwind with a friendly spar or some delicious food, sometimes sexual gratification is just what his mind needs to momentarily forget his duties.

Mydei masturbates to relax and quiet his mind, so he prefers to do it either in the bath or before bed. He only masturbates in the privacy of his bedchambers where he won’t be disturbed easily, and even then, he keeps his voice down. The most one would hear from his jack off sessions are quiet grunts and breathless pants.

He typically doesn’t think about anything specific when masturbating, but after he developed feelings for you, his thoughts would sometimes drift to you and imagine what it would feel like if it was your hand wrapped around his length instead, how your body would feel under his hands, or how you would moan and writhe under him while coupling. Thoughts of you excite him and get him off quicker than usual, but he always felt ashamed for thinking of you in such an inappropriate manner. The following day he would struggle to look you in the eye because of the guilt he felt, though once you became a couple, such feelings of guilt vanished.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mydei leans more dominant and prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. He’s open to you taking the lead and asking him to do specific things like eating you out or letting you explore his body, but he will not give up control entirely. If you lack the assertiveness to lead properly or test his patience too much, he will take back control.

One of Mydei’s biggest kinks is marking. He loves to nip and suck at your skin to leave dark hickeys on your neck, chest, and inner thighs. When he gets particularly riled up, he also bites at your shoulder. It’s never hard enough to draw blood, but it does leave a mark in the shape of his teeth and may bruise. He admires his marks after the fact, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you have physical proof of being his, but will apologize if you scold him for it. He’ll buy you a garment that covers your neck and shoulders if it becomes a problem.

Mydei also likes it when you mark him in return. Feeling your hands and mouth on his skin claiming him as yours makes him feel desired, which is a huge turn-on. The best places to mark are his neck and back because they can get a groan of pleasure out of him when you find those sensitive spots to bite down on. Due to the fast regenerative abilities of his body, your marks don’t last long on his skin, though Mydei won’t be opposed if you want to renew them. Just be prepared for him to return the favor.

He's also into light spanking. It’s nothing hardcore like a full-on spanking session with crops and paddles but rather an occasional smack on your ass with his palm while he takes you from behind. He just enjoys seeing the way your butt jiggles and can’t resist the urge to spank it. If you’re not into it, Mydei will stop without question.

If you’re not against it, Mydei is open to trying anal sex for something novel. He will need some guidance and education on how to do it safely but he’s willing to take things slow and prep you properly to avoid injury.

The prince loves it when you wrap your arms and legs around him. Grip the backs of his thighs, lock your legs behind his back, gab his butt, or loop your arms around his neck and tug him towards you. It makes him feel like you desire him and are welcoming him into your body which he finds hot.

If you’re into it, Mydei will pin you down against the bed or wall. Things such as pinning your wrists above your head or pressing you down into the mattress with his weight are his favorite ways to immobilize you if you’ve been teasing him too much. He won’t do this if you’re uncomfortable with it, though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

For the most part, Mydei prefers to have sex in the privacy of your home. Any room and surface is fine, though he does like the bed a little more because it makes for a comfortable place to rest and bask in the afterglow afterwards.

Though not his preferred choice, Mydei can also fuck you in more risky places. He’s brush off your advances and tell you to wait until you get home to get frisky, but his patience is not infinite. If you tease and provoke him enough, his patience will snap and he’ll drag you over to a secluded corner with a growl that if you want to be fucked so bad then fine, you’ll get what you want but you had best keep your voice down if you don’t want to be caught. If an unfortunate soul happens to see you getting steamy, the deadly glare Mydei gives them will be a silent threat for them to keep quiet and pretend they never saw anything or else.

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

Mydei is a simple man that prefers a straightforward approach. He’s not good at playing elaborate mind games and chasing after you in a game of cat-and-mouse as it will leave him frustrated. Just tell him you want him. Press your boobs or rub your ass against him, run your hands along his body in a suggestive manner, grinding your hips against him, whisper dirty things in his ear—whatever method you employ, just make your desire for him clear. As long as your interest is genuine and you make him feel wanted, Mydei will take the bait.

Heated make-out sessions also work to arouse him. When the kiss turns hot and heavy, it ignites his lust and makes him want to feel more of you. If you trail your lips down his throat and bite at the pulse point or lightly scratch down his back, it is game over for him. You’ll be hoisted into his arms and carried to the bed.

Other things you can try is dressing up. Wearing sexy and flattering lingerie or a cute and sexy cat outfit complete with a cat ear headband can work to turn Mydei on. Wearing just a towel or nothing at all also works.

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

As mentioned previously, Mydei doesn’t like giving up complete control. He lets you experiment with kinks and take the lead if you express an interest in doing so but don’t think you can toy with him for your own amusement. The crown prince complies with your whims out of respect and a desire to indulge you but if you push his buttons too much that compliance will fly out the window.

Mydei hates being edged and teased. A little bit is fine, but he lacks the patience to put up with it for long periods of time. It quickly goes from being arousing to being annoying. He also dislikes being made to beg. Mydei is far too prideful to debase himself like that and will grow irritated if you pressure him to beg you to let him cum or anything similar. In both scenarios, he’s far more likely to break out of any restraints you have on him and turn the tables on you. You’ll be the one begging him, darling.

The crown prince is also not into roleplay. He would find it difficult to get into a role since he’s not the best actor and just finds the whole ordeal too cumbersome and cringey. He’d much rather skip the acting and get straight to the good part where he gets to have his hands on you and his face between your legs.

Additionally, Mydei won’t go out of his way to hurt you. He can wrap a hand around your throat but won’t squeeze in fear of actually choking you, neither will he harshly pull at your hair or hit you. He can manhandle you to display his strength but only if he knows you’re into it. Otherwise, he will never force you into anything against your will.

Finally, Mydei hates the idea of sharing you with someone else. Watching you touch another person so intimately and seeing you being pleasured by someone that isn’t him sparks feelings of intense jealously and resentment in him. He would see red and feel sick to his stomach, so threesomes are a huge turnoff for him.

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

Mydei has a slight preference for receiving but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like giving. Quite the opposite, in fact. Burying his face between your legs and watching you come undone from just his mouth? It turns him on and inflates his ego. Mydei loves watching you moan and writhe while he eats you out, and he easily holds your hips still so you can’t get away while he firmly sucks on your clit. He also feels encouraged by you tugging at his hair when something he does feels good for you.

Watching and hearing you unravel under his tongue is one of the hottest things for Mydei, and he’ll crawl up your limp and sated body with his face smeared in your slick and a feral, lustful glint in his eye because eating you out made him painfully hard.

When it comes to receiving, Mydei tries to be careful. He knows he’s big so he’s not expecting you to deepthroat him or anything (though it would drive him wild if you managed to) and does his best to hold still while you take him in your mouth. He’s more vocal when you suck him off, letting out low moans that gradually grow louder the closer you bring him to orgasm. When he gets closer to his peak, he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth but tries to be careful to not thrust too deep and accidentally hurt you.

He tends to keep a hand on your head while you go down on him. Not pushing or pulling but just resting it there. If your hair is long enough, he’ll gather it up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face so it wouldn’t get in your way.

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

Mydei’s pace can vary from fast to slow depending on what you’re both in the mood for, but he consistently goes deep. If you’re in the mood for something passionate and carnal, Mydei’s happy to let loose and take you fast and rough until you’re crying out in pleasure and your eyes are rolling back while raking your nails down his shoulders. If you want something less rough but still passionate, he can go slow and deep and gradually build up to a more moderate pace. The latter is usually his go-to pace though he tends to quicken his thrusts when he’s near orgasm.

Though slow and sensual is not his typical style, when you evoke soft and warm feelings in Mydei’s chest (usually by saying you love him or being the one to make love to him) he gentles his approach. It’s not quite sensual, but it is loving coming from him. His sharp thrusts slow down to languid roll of his hips and he gives you more kisses and gentler nips.

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

He doesn’t mind quickies and sometimes resorts to them when you’re both pent up and need to destress but don’t have the time to take things slow. During quickies, Mydei’s pace is fast but not rough since the aim is to get both of you to climax quickly and then go about your day. They’re regular but not frequent, probably once a week or so.

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

It will take some coaxing on your part, but Mydei can be convinced to experiment with new things if the idea intrigues him or it makes you happy. However, if it’s anything from the No section then he will stubbornly shut down the suggestion. You also can’t suddenly spring something hardcore on him like BDSM. Mydei needs to be eased into new things. You can start out with something like a session experimenting with restraints, and another time playing around with blindfolds or toys, etc… Otherwise, he may experiment with a few things himself like sex positions and restraining you with his hands.

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

This man has stamina for days. He’ll outlast you any day of the week, it’s not even a competition. Mydei’s endurance comes not only from his physical fitness, but also from how used to pain and suffering he is. His immortal body allows him to easily ignore signs of fatigue or discomfort and push him past his limits. That said, his body does have a limit to how many times he can cum, so he can last up until he shoots blanks. It’s unlikely you will ever get to that point with him, though.

In general, Mydei prefers going for 2-3 rounds so you’re both left thoroughly satisfied, but if you ever want to go for more then he’ll indulge you.

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

While Mydei isn’t against sex toys, he’s not eager to use them. He strongly believes that direct physical touch feels better than some cold plastic or silicone toy. He’d much rather please you directly with his body, be it his hands, mouth, or penis because it’s more gratifying to watch you react to his touch than to some tool. Mydei prefers you to please him using your hands or mouth, as well. You could try the sex toys on him, but he will quickly lose interest and toss them away in favor of feeling your skin against his.

Mydei is okay with you using toys on yourself when he’s not available to satisfy your needs, but if he is, he will be hurt if you don’t come to him and satisfy yourself with a toy instead. It will make him think you don’t find him satisfactory in bed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Mydei is a straightforward person, so playing unfair is not his style. At most he can let fly a teasing comment about how badly you want him but otherwise he doesn’t tease or edge you. He doesn’t have the patience for it because seeing you get worked up riles him up too and makes him want nothing else except to sink into your cunt.

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

The prince is good at keeping his voice down. He usually lets out grunts and groans while making love to you, and an occasional low moan if you do something that makes him feel good. Mydei would much rather hear your moans over his own because they let him know he’s making you feel good which is an ego boost for him. If you try to stifle your sounds, Mydei tells you to let your voice out so he can hear how good he’s making you feel and does his best to get you to moan louder, provided you’re somewhere private.

He's also a huge sucker for hearing you moan his name or begging him. It drives him wild and makes him want to give you even more pleasure.

Mydei indulges in a bit of dirty talk. It’s not derogatory but rather praising, saying things like “Look at how soaked your panties are. You must be so desperate to feel my dick inside you.” or “You’re so wet and tight, your pussy feels so good around me.”

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

Mydei can get competitive in the bedroom. Once he grows familiar with sex and what you like, he challenges himself to get you to climax more times compared to previous sessions. If you came twice last time, he’ll set a goal to make you orgasm three or more times the next session.

If you’re the type to challenge him in the bedroom, Mydei will play along. You want to bet you’ll make him cum first? Sure, why not test it out in the 69 position so he can eat you out while you suck him off and see who will make the other finish first?

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

(A reminder than girth is circumference and not diameter)

Length is 15 cm (5.9 inches) and girth is 11 cm (4.3 inches). Has a few veins on the underside and a dark red tip.

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

Mydei has a healthy sexual appetite and craves sex about 3-5 times a week. If you sex drive is higher than his then he could go more often.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mydeimos doesn’t fall asleep quickly afterwards unless he’s pushed himself past his limit (but that’s extremely rare). You’re usually the one to fall asleep first since intercourse with him leaves you weak and tired, so Mydei spends that free time making sure you’re properly tucked in and comfortable. He scoops your limp form into his arms in a protective embrace and tucks your head under his chin, holding you close while you succumb to sleep.

During nighttime, Mydei’s thoughts are usually occupied by his duties or his past, but the relaxation that comes after sex helps to push those troublesome thoughts aside and allows him fall asleep easier than usual. It also takes him a bit of time to get used to sleeping beside you, but he finds it nice to share a bed with someone he loves and hold them in his arms. He likes mornings in which he wakes up to see your naked sleeping figure beside him. Your hair is mussed and there are marks from his teeth on your skin, but god does the sight of you under the soft rays of Okhema’s sun warm his scarred heart.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #mydei x reader #mydeimos x reader #mydei x fem!reader #mydei x reader smut

256 notes · View notes

luvfae · 23 hours ago

Text

CENTRE STAGE

summary: you’re thanos favourite backup dancer, the catch? you don’t want him. well… you like to pretend you don’t.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: this is a long one, smut, oral (reader receiving), fingering, choking, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy), swearing

series masterlist

The bass reverberated through the stadium, shaking the floor beneath your feet. You moved with the beat, body fluid, perfectly in sync with the other dancers. It was muscle memory at this point—hours of grueling rehearsals had carved the choreography into your bones.

And then there was Thanos.

Center stage. Soaking up the spotlight like he was born in it.

You weren’t blind—you knew he was attractive. Tall, sharp jawline, dark eyes that glinted with mischief and something more dangerous underneath. His presence was undeniable, the kind of charisma that made people lose their minds over him.

But you weren’t one of those people.

Which was why, when he shot you a cocky smirk mid-performance, you rolled your eyes and looked away.

You missed the slight falter in his steps.

Backstage was chaos. Sweat, adrenaline, the quick shuffle of dancers moving between costume changes. You were peeling off your jacket when you felt someone step into your space.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?”

You turned, already knowing who it was.

Thanos stood in front of you, arms crossed, a glistening sheen of sweat on his forehead. His shirt clung to him, damp with exertion, and he smelled like expensive cologne and stage lights.

You raised a brow. “Which position? Because if you mean backup dancing, I worked my ass off to be here.”

His smirk widened. “I meant being this close to me.”

You scoffed. “Oh, my mistake. Guess I should start trembling.”

His smile faltered for a second, just a flicker, before he leaned in slightly. “Most girls do.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Poor things.”

His eyes darkened, scanning your face like he was trying to figure you out. Like he was waiting for the moment you’d break and melt for him like everyone else did.

You didn’t.

“Not interested?” he mused, voice lower now, intrigued.

“Not even a little bit.”

A lie. But he didn’t need to know that.

He huffed a laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Alright. Cool. I like a challenge.”

You turned to leave, but before you could, he caught your wrist—lightly, not enough to force you, but enough to make you pause.

“You should probably know,” he said, voice softer now, a little more serious, “I always get what I want.”

You looked at him, at the smug confidence in his face, and smirked.

“Not this time, superstar.”

And then you pulled away.

He let you go, watching as you walked off, and for the first time in his life—

Thanos realized he was the one being left wanting.

—

He had you switched the next day.

You saw it on the rehearsal schedule. Your name, suddenly paired with his for the partner sections of the choreography.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. Unbelievable.

When you walked onto the stage, Thanos was already waiting.

“You’re a child,” you told him flatly.

He grinned. “I’m resourceful.”

“You had me switched out just so you could put your hands on me?”

He shrugged. “Now you’re getting it.”

You crossed your arms. “You know, normal people just ask someone out when they’re interested.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Yeah, but normal people also get rejected.”

You scoffed. “Which is exactly what’s happening right now.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “Yeah? Then why are you still standing here?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

Damn him.

Damn his stupid, arrogant, cocky ass.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the split second of uncertainty, and he fucking grinned.

“Relax,” he murmured, dragging a slow gaze down your body. “Let’s just dance.”

You exhaled through your nose, glaring. “Fine. But if you get handsy, I’m kneeing you in the balls.”

He laughed. “Noted.”

The music kicked in, bass heavy, vibrating through the soles of your shoes. You forced yourself to focus, rolling your shoulders, letting the beat settle into your body.

You had done this a million times before—picked up new choreography, adjusted to new formations, worked around whatever ridiculous creative decisions the higher-ups made. But this?

This was different.

Because now you had to dance around Thanos like he was some untouchable god, like he was the center of gravity and you were just one of his planets orbiting him.

And he knew it.

The smug bastard was eating it up.

“Alright,” the choreographer called. “Let’s take it from the top—Y/N, remember, you’re leading this section now. The energy needs to be different, more intense. It’s about power and temptation.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

Power and temptation.

Great.

You got into position, your back to Thanos as the music restarted. Your movements were sharp, precise, every beat landing exactly where it needed to. You could feel him behind you, his presence heavy, but you ignored it—until the routine called for you to step into him.

You turned, moving into position, only for him to place his hands on your waist a second too early.

Too early, and definitely not necessary.

Your breath hitched. You felt his fingers, warm through the thin material of your top, his touch firm—possessive.

“Timing,” you snapped, twisting out of his grip.

His lips curled. “Felt right to me.”

You exhaled sharply. “Try again. And keep your hands where they’re supposed to be.”

He didn’t.

The next section had you circling him, tracing the shape of his body with your own, never touching but close enough to tease. It was supposed to be a push and pull, a careful balance of restraint and tension.

Except Thanos had no restraint.

Every time you moved past him, he found some excuse to touch you—a palm sliding over the small of your back, fingertips grazing your hip, knuckles brushing against your stomach. None of it was in the choreography.

And it was pissing you off.

Not because you didn’t like it.

Because you did.

And that made it worse.

You gritted your teeth, pressing forward with the routine, trying to pretend you weren’t hyperaware of his every move, his every breath.

Then came the final part—the part where you were supposed to sink against him, his arm wrapping around you, bodies molding together as the music reached its climax.

He pulled you in.

Too close.

Closer than necessary.

You felt his breath against your ear, his chest solid against your back, his grip firm like he was daring you to pull away.

You didn’t.

Not immediately, anyway.

“Problem?” he murmured, voice low.

You swallowed, heat licking up your spine. “Yeah. You don’t know how to follow a damn routine.”

He chuckled, his breath warm. “Or maybe I just don’t like rules.”

You twisted in his arms, pushing against his chest, forcing space between you. “Try following them for once, superstar. Or find yourself another dance partner.”

His gaze flickered with something dark. Something hungry.

Then, slowly, he smirked.

“No,” he said. “I think I’ll keep you.”

Your stomach flipped.

You scowled, shoving him harder this time, ignoring the way your pulse hammered in your throat.

“Do your job,” you warned, stepping back. “And keep your hands to yourself.”

Thanos just grinned.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.” He tapped his chest, smirking. “Star of the show.” Then, with a slow, deliberate glance, he pointed at you. “Backup dancer.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, rolling your eyes as you stepped back into position. Fine. If he wanted your attention so damn badly, he was going to regret it.

You had a new mission now: Make this the worst dance of his life.

The music started up again, and you turned your smirk into something sultry, something playful. If he wanted you dancing around him like he was a god, you’d do it—but you’d do it on your terms.

Every movement became sharper, more exaggerated. You dragged your fingertips across his chest when you were only supposed to graze past him. Your hips swayed a little too deliberately, your gaze lingering just a second too long. You danced around him like a tease, like a challenge, like you knew exactly what he wanted and were dangling it just out of reach.

And Thanos noticed.

His smirk faltered. His jaw tightened.

He was good at playing it cool, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers flexed every time your body got too close.

So you pushed it further.

At a part where you were supposed to circle around him, you let your breath fan over his neck, close enough that he could feel the heat of it. When he placed his hand on your waist—because of course he did, even though it wasn’t in the damn routine—you leaned into it just enough to make it seem deliberate before slipping away.

His grip tightened before he let go.

Good.

By the time the song ended, you were barely holding back a smirk. You could feel the tension radiating off him, could see the way he adjusted his stance like his pants were suddenly too tight.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” the choreographer clapped, beaming. “That was the energy we needed! Y/N, you nailed it—flirtatious, powerful, you owned that stage.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feigning innocence. “Oh? Just following directions.”

Thanos shot you a look, half-amused, half-something darker. He licked his lips, stepping closer, voice low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna play it like that, huh?”

You tilted your head, blinking up at him with faux sweetness. “Play what?”

His fingers brushed against your hip—not part of the routine, again. His voice dropped even lower, a husky whisper against your ear.

“Careful, sweetheart. Keep this up, and I won’t just be touching you for show.”

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let him see it. You stepped back, letting your smirk break free as you walked away.

—

The bass thrummed beneath your feet as you stepped onto the stage, the roar of the crowd nearly deafening. Bright lights, pulsing music, energy crackling in the air—showtime.

You had spent the entire day learning new choreography, perfecting every movement, every step, every fucking touch. And now? Now it was time to perform.

And him?

Thanos was already watching you like a predator.

You felt his gaze before you even looked at him. The heat of it. The weight. And when you finally did look, you swore you could see the exact moment he realized he was fucked.

Because his jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. His tongue flicked out over his lips, slow and deliberate.

Yeah. He was done for.

You weren’t even doing anything yet—just walking into position in your tiny black shorts and your cropped tank that rode up every time you so much as took a breath.

His gaze dragged over your bare legs, over the slope of your waist, over the sliver of skin just above your waistband. Lingering.

And then he laughed—low, under his breath—but you caught it.

“Fuck,” he muttered, just for himself.

Your lips twitched. Got him.

The music kicked in, and suddenly, you were moving. The energy of the crowd fueled you, the beat guiding you. Every motion was sharper, smoother, more deliberate.

And Thanos?

He was distracted.

Distracted by the way your body twisted and rolled, by the way your hands skimmed over your own thighs, by the way you met his gaze with something daring in your eyes.

He was supposed to be the star of the show.

But right now? Right now, it was you.

By the time the first chorus hit, you had made your way over to him, dancing around him like you were made to, your hands ghosting over his shoulders, his chest—only to pull away at the last second, teasing, tempting.

And he hated it.

Hated it because he wanted more.

You could tell by the way he reacted. How he leaned in, how his hands twitched to touch you, how his breathing hitched when you got a little too close.

So, naturally, you pushed it.

When his hand landed on your waist you let him feel you for just a second before spinning away.

The smirk on his face faltered for a half-second. And then he recovered, shaking his head, chuckling under his breath like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Like you were the one who had the upper hand.

And when the song ended, when the stage went dark for the next set change, he wasted zero time grabbing your wrist and pulling you against him.

Your chest heaved, breath still uneven from the performance. “Am I throwing you off?”

His grip on your wrist tightened—just enough to make you feel it.

He leaned in, voice low, rough. “Not even close.”

His gaze dropped, flickering to your lips, down your throat, lingering at the band of your shorts

Your pulse jumped.

But you refused to let it show. Instead, you tilted your head, lashes fluttering as you murmured, “Didn’t think so.”

His jaw flexed. A slow inhale through his nose. A flick of his tongue over his teeth.

And then—the stage lights flashed back on, bathing everything in a blinding glow.

Your smirk deepened as you slipped just out of reach.

—

The moment the show ended, you vanished. You didn’t stick around to let him come find you. You were done with the game for now—just another part of the routine. You didn’t owe him anything, especially after how he’d been acting on stage.

You’d slipped back to your dressing room, changed quickly, and made your way to your hotel room, not once looking back. He wouldn’t find you so easily.

But that wasn’t the Thanos you knew.

An hour later, there was a knock on your hotel door. Soft at first, then louder, more insistent. Each thud felt like it was pounding through your skull. You held your breath, hoping he’d go away, but you knew he wouldn’t.

You hesitated, trying to keep calm as you made your way to the door. Slowly, you turned the handle, peeking through the crack just enough to see his tall figure standing there, staring you down with that dark, intense gaze that you knew was enough to melt any woman—except for you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, voice cold and flat.

He didn’t waste a second. The door was shoved open as he forced his way past you, his body towering over yours, blocking any chance of escape.

“You think you can just disappear like that?” he growled, his voice raw with frustration. “You think I won’t come after you?”

You crossed your arms, trying to remain unfazed. “I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to follow me.”

His eyes flashed, and for a brief moment, you saw the dangerous fire in them—something you’d only caught glimpses of before.

“You really think that?” he said, voice low and steady now, each word coming with a weight that was unmistakable. “You think I’m just gonna let you walk away, let you treat me like some damn game?”

“You’re the one making it a game,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just playing along. Didn’t think you’d have a problem with it.”

He took a step closer, and your back hit the wall, a tiny gasp escaping your lips. You clenched your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“You think this is just a game to me?” His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, his fingers tightening until it almost hurt. “What the fuck do you think you’ve been doing to me all this time?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours. “I’m not your fucking toy, Thanos,” you said, each word laced with challenge.

His lips curled into a half-smirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You might not be, but you’re sure as hell mine right now.”

“You’re a womanizer,” you hissed, pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to make him back off. “What makes you think I’d let you have me? Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean I’ll let you fuck me, you freak.”

He smirked, his hands brushing along your side with that infuriating confidence that made you want to rip his arrogance right off his face.

“Really?” he murmured, his lips curling into that taunting grin you were so damn familiar with. “Tell me to leave then.”

You stared up at him, your chest heaving, pulse quickening with the tension between you. He was close—too close—and you were burning under the weight of his stare, but you didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. You couldn’t fight it any longer.

Instead, your hands fisted his shirt, tugging him down to you. Your lips collided with his in a desperate, hungry kiss, more forceful than anything you’d ever let yourself give before.

You hated him for making you want him. You hated how his arrogance seemed to draw you in even more. But as much as you fought it, you couldn’t deny the heat flooding your body, the way he made you feel alive—even if it meant giving in to all the things you knew you shouldn’t want.

His response was immediate, his hands gripping you tightly, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced your lips before sliding in, taking control in that way he always did, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, from giving in.

When he pulled away, his breath ragged, his face was inches from yours, his lips swollen and glistening from the kiss. “Knew you wanted it,” he said, voice low and rough.

Your chest tightened. You should’ve said something. Should’ve pushed him away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to. Not now. Not with the way your body was burning from the inside out.

He moved his hands down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion. You were left standing in front of him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and for a moment, you hated how exposed you felt.

But then his hands were on your skin again, hot and possessive, trailing over your bare body, making you shiver as he kissed along your neck, his lips grazing your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you. And suddenly, all those reservations you’d had, all those walls you’d put up, seemed to disappear into the haze of lust and want.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire, and you didn’t have to say a word. He could see it in your eyes—the same hunger, the same need.

Before you knew it, he had you flat against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed into you, his lips back on yours with a fierce urgency. And you didn’t fight it. Not this time.

He broke away for a moment, his voice rough, but controlled. “Tell me you want this. Say it.”

Your hands ran up his chest, your nails scraping over his skin as you tugged him back down. “I want you,” you murmured, your voice laced with that desperate edge he’d been waiting for. “Kiss me.”

Thanos didn’t hesitate. The second the words left your mouth, his lips crashed into yours again, all teeth and heat and raw desperation. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, fingers digging into your thighs as he pressed his body flush against yours.

You felt everything—the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the unmistakable hardness between his legs as he ground against you, making you gasp into his mouth.

His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, gripping your thighs as he lifted you higher against the wall. You gasped into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his purple, sweat-dampened hair, tugging just enough to hear him groan.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath ragged, his fingers digging into your skin. "You drive me fucking insane, you know that?"

You smirked, pressing your forehead against his. "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"

His laugh was low, dark, full of something dangerous. His grip on you tightened, and in one swift motion, he carried you across the room, dropping you onto the hotel bed with a smirk of his own.

"Mine," he admitted, voice rough as he hovered over you, his gaze raking over your body like he was memorizing every inch. "Because I should've had you the moment you rolled your eyes at me."

Your heart pounded, heat pooling between your thighs as he pressed a knee between them, teasing, testing. "And now?" you challenged, breathless.

He tilted his head, watching you with that arrogant, knowing smirk. "Now?" His fingers traced the waistband of your shorts, slipping beneath the fabric just enough to make you squirm. "Now I don't plan on stopping."

You arched your back as his lips trailed down your throat, his hands exploring, claiming, making it clear that this wasn't just some meaningless hookup to him.

This was a warning.

A promise.

A fucking declaration.

And god help you, you wanted all of it.

“You still think I’m a womanizer?” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

You arched into him, biting back a whimper as his teeth scraped over your pulse point. “You’re still a cocky bastard.”

He chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. “Maybe,” he admitted, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. “But you like it.”

You did. And that pissed you off.

You grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. “Shut up and fuck me.”

His eyes darkened.

“Gladly.”

Thanos kissed you like he was trying to consume you, like he wanted to leave his mark on every inch of your body. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your thighs, squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise.

You gasped as he flipped you over, pressing you into the mattress with his body. “You act so fucking tough,” he murmured against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “But I see right through you.”

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he bit down on the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shorts, fingertips burning against your bare skin. He pulled your pants down your legs, his eyes dark as he took you in.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand down your spine before yanking your panties off in one swift motion. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first day I met you. Walking around in those fucking short. The bane of my existence, babe.”

Your breath hitched when he trailed his fingers between your legs, teasing, taking his time just to watch you squirm.

“Thanos—”

He forced your face to the side, silencing you with a kiss, swallowing your moans as he pushed his fingers inside you, moving slow, deliberate, dragging out every reaction he could get.

“Look at you,” he groaned, lips brushing against your jaw. “So fucking wet for me.”

You hated how easy this was for him—how he could unravel you with just a touch, just a look. You wanted to fight him, to push back, to pretend you were still in control.

But then he slid his fingers out, flipping you onto your back, replacing them with his tongue, and all coherent thought disappeared.

You arched off the bed, fingers tangling in his hair as he pinned your hips down, keeping you exactly where he wanted. His name left your lips in a broken moan, your body trembling beneath him as he devoured you like he was starving.

And he didn’t stop. Not even when you came, not even when you tried to push him away, too sensitive, too overwhelmed. He just held you there, dragging you through another wave of pleasure until you were a gasping, shaking mess beneath him.

Only then did he pull away, his lips slick, his eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, voice rough as he unbuckled his belt, letting his jeans drop to the floor.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on top of you again, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing, making you whine in frustration.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he demanded, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

You swallowed hard, pride clashing with desperation. You wanted to make him beg. You wanted to be the one in control.

But then he pushed in just an inch, stretching you open, making your head fall back with a strangled moan.

“Fuck—Thanos, please.”

That was all it took.

He thrust into you in one smooth motion, making you cry out, your nails digging into his back. He was thick, stretching you in a way that left you gasping for air, but he didn’t give you time to adjust. He set a brutal pace from the start, fucking into you like he was trying to break you.

And maybe he was.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder as he slammed into you over and over, pulling out just enough to make you desperate before driving back in. “So fucking tight, taking me so well.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, your walls clenching around him as pleasure coiled in your stomach. You didn’t care about control anymore. You didn’t care about anything except the way he felt inside you, stretching you, ruining you.

“Thanos—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he groaned, his grip tightening on your hips, his thrusts growing rougher. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

And you did. Hard. Your body clenched around him as you cried out his name, pleasure crashing over you in waves. But he wasn’t done. He fucked you through your orgasm, his pace relentless, chasing his own release.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Thanos had you on your knees, pressing your chest against the mattress with a firm hand on your back. His other hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he positioned himself behind you.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he murmured, running his palm over the curve of your ass before delivering a sharp smack that made you gasp. “Made to be fucked.”

You shivered, anticipation making your whole body tense. He spread you open, dragging the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing, making you whimper.

“Thanos—I can’t,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. Your body was spent, trembling, overstimulated beyond reason. You had already come three times—three, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dark, coaxing, dripping with lust. His fingers stroked lazy circles over your clit, making you jolt, your body betraying you despite the desperate plea on your lips. “Just one more. For me.”

“I—”

He didn’t let you finish. With one rough thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide, forcing your body to take all of him. A strangled moan ripped from your throat as he bottomed out, his fingers tightening on your hips.

"You can take it," he whispered, kissing the side of your neck as he fucked you right past your limits. "I know you can."

You couldn’t muster up a single word, instead you sobbed in pleasure and pain. You were so overstimulated, but fuck, it felt so good.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, rolling his hips, making you feel every inch of him. “You like this, don’t you? Being bent over, fucked like you belong to me.”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

But then he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that had you gripping the sheets, struggling to stay upright.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low, dangerous.

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your walls fluttering around him. “I love it.”

“That’s my girl.”

He fucked you harder, his grip bruising, his thrusts deep and relentless. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with the ragged moans you couldn’t hold back.

One of his hands slid around to your front, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling beneath him.

“You gonna come for me again?” he growled, his other hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you back against his chest as he fucked into you. “Wanna feel you squeeze my cock.”

You couldn’t hold back. With a sharp cry, you came undone, your body tightening around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Thanos groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. He slammed into you one last time before spilling inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your head spin.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies tangled, your breaths heavy. Then he leaned in, pressing a rough kiss to your shoulder.

"I hope I didn’t ruin you," he murmured.

But he had. Completely.

—

The next morning, you woke up sore in the best way possible, tangled in expensive hotel sheets that smelled like him. The space next to you was empty, but the indent in the mattress was still warm.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. Fuck. What the hell did you just do?

The sound of the bathroom door opening made you jolt upright. Thanos emerged, towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water sliding down his chest. He caught your gaze and smirked.

“Morning, señorita,” he drawled.

You scowled. “Don’t call me that.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair as he walked over to the bed. “You’re grumpy in the morning. Cute.”

You glared at him. “You should leave.”

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Then he recovered, leaning down until his face was inches from yours. “You sure about that?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Because the truth was, you weren’t sure at all.

Thanos watched you carefully, reading every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. You hated that about him—how easily he could see through you.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away. “Yeah,” you said, but your voice wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be. “I’m sure.”

A beat of silence. Then, he exhaled a quiet laugh. “Liar.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanos—”

“You’re gonna pretend last night didn’t happen?” He tilted his head, voice low and taunting. “Or just pretend you didn’t love every fucking second of it?”

Heat crept up your neck, shame and frustration tangling together in a way that made you feel sick. You didn’t answer, just pulled the sheets tighter around yourself.

Thanos clicked his tongue, his fingers brushing your chin as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “I’ll go,” he murmured, but there was something unreadable in his expression. “For now.”

Your breath caught. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He smirked, leaning in just enough that his lips ghosted over yours. “You’ll see.”

Then, before you could say another word, he was gone.

You sat there, staring at the door long after it clicked shut, your pulse hammering in your throat.

Fuck.

You had a terrible, sinking feeling that this wasn’t over. Not even close.

#choi subong smut #choi su bong x reader #choi su bong #thanos smut #thanos x reader #thanos #player 230 smut #player 230 x reader #player 230 #squid game

157 notes · View notes

blastiebabe · 19 hours ago

Text

make me feel good, please

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader | Smut

It's Sunday night, you and your boyfriend Katsuki had an amazing weekend together. You two are currently watching a movie, sitting on the couch, your legs are placed above his lap while his left hand is holding your thigh.

For some reason, you feet the need to be touched. Something down there tingles with need for attention. You look at your boyfriend focused on watching the movie, you remove your legs from his lap and brings yourself closer to him resting on his chest as he wraps his arm around you.

Even with the change of position something between your legs still can't behave. It wants to be touched so bad, you wiggle your legs a bit, trying not send signals to Katsuki that you are uncomfortable.

But he noticed anyway. "Is everything okay?" He asks looking at you.

You just nod and proceeds on trying to focus on the movie. After minutes of heat still pooling inside you, you sit straight. "Love, can I go to bed first? I'm feeling a little sleepy already."

Katsuki paused the movie. "Alright, let's go sleep."

"No, no, it's okay. You can finish the film, then just come when you're done." You tell him, pushing him slightly back to the couch as he tried to stand up.

"Love, are you sure? I can continue the film some other time I—" You cut him off.

"It's okay Kats, I insist. I'll see you later." You say as you stand up and starts to head to the bedroom.

Katsuki grabs your wrist that made you sit on his lap. "Princess, are you sure you're okay?" Katsuki asks, his face close to yours you feel the heat of his body on your own.

Even with the sudden desire surging on your body, you fight it as you cup his cheeks and kisses his forehead to ease his worry. "Love, I'm okay, you don't have to worry. I'll see you in a bit." You say as you leave a peck of kiss on his lips and stand up. Katsuki just nods and guided you to stand while holding the small of your back.

You head straight to your shared bedroom and lay down on your side of the bed. You indeed want to be touched by your boyfriend so bad but you have no idea how to ask him to do so. You feel bad being starved like this when last night he was giving you everything you could never even imagine.

Remembering how hard and how many times he made you reach your high last night sends shivers down your spine. You place your right hand and used your palm to put pressure between your legs and turned to the side. God, how badly do you need Katsuki right now?

Focused on trying to ignore the heat pooling inside you, you didn't notice Katsuki coming inside the bedroom. Not until you feel weight shifting on his side of the bed, you look up and notice him looking at you with eyes full of worry.

"Princess, tell me what's happening..." Katsuki says as he observe your posture. He brings you closer to him, his arms grabbing your waist. "What's wrong?"

And just like that, you can't help but be under his warmth. You push your head on the crook of his neck, sniffing his natural scent. You wrap your hands all over his waist as you pull him closer to your body. "L-love... please..."

Katsuki kisses your temple, caressing the length your hair, patiently waiting for you to use words. "Hmm?"

"C-can you please h-help me..." Stuttering with your words, but atleast you were able to tell him.

"Ofcourse I will. Can you tell me what you need help with, Princess?" Katsuki asks while creating a space between the two of you enough for him to be able to look at your eyes.

Unable to use your words, you look where your other hand is putting pressure between your legs, then you look back at him. Your eyes pleading for pleasure that only he can provide.

Katsuki's eyes widdened as he realize what you were asking him to do. "A-are you sure?" He says as his eyes softened looking at you full of affection.

You do a slight nod. "P-please..."

Katsuki smiles as he stares at you. "Was this the reason you were bothered earlier?"

Again, you nod. Katsuki cups your face, his thumb gently brushing on your cheeks. "My love, you could've asked me. I am more than willing to help you." And with that, he closed the space between the two of you and made sure his lips met yours.

And in a blink of an eye, Katsuki is on top of you. His hands roaming around your body as your arms cling into the back of his head.

"Can you tell me what you want, Princess?" Katsuki asks as he stopped the kiss leaving you wanting for more.

"M-make me feel good, p-please..." You pleaded as he starts leaving kisses on your neck. You feel a smirk in between the kisses.

"I am all yours." You feel his hands caressing every part of your body, until it goes under your shirt, slowly reaching your back and finding the clasp of your bra. You arch your back as to give him space and in one swift move, it's gone.

His kisses trails down to your chest as the two of your removes your shirt and bra and throw it somewhere you don't care. You can feel a bulge forming in his pants.

Katsuki proceeds on sucking on your nipples while his hand plays with the other. You grab his hair, pushing your hips against his as your lower body is asking for attention. "Love..."

You feel a smirk in between his kisses. His other hand started trailing below your short, feeling the band of your underwear. You move your hips upward, getting impatient and wanting his touch to reach down there as soon as possible.

Katsuki's lips travels from your chest down your belly button. He slowly grabs the band of your underwear and shorts and in one swift motion, he removes it. Leaving you naked and vulnerable under his touch.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Princess." He whispers at your folds as you feel his breath in the softness of your skin.

You grab the sheets at your sides with both your hands as he starts licking. "Fuck." You feel his tongue playing with your pussy. You grab his hair, feeling so much pleasure. You move your hips to match with his rythmn.

You stop kissing him, staring directly at his eyes as his fingers start going in to your folds. "You are taking it so well, Princess."

"K-katsuki, c-come here..." You say, grabbing him close to you for a kiss. While he entertain your lips, he made sure to not leave your folds untouched. His hands finds its way, teasing it like how his tongue did.

As soon as he notice this, the movement of his fingers become more sincere, more pleasurable for you, with a mission to make you reach the high you have never reached before.

With all the pleasure you are receiving, you stare directly into his eyes. Using your right hand to cup his face, and your thumb softly rubbing his cheek. You feel tears forming in your eyeballs. You might just cry, not from pain, but from realizing how much you love this man before you.

When he feel your body shivering, Katsuki tries to go back down your folds again so that you'll cum using his tongue, but you stop him. "No... please. I want to see your face, my love."

"I-I'm coming..." You say in between your breath.

Katsuki's heart flutter by your words. As much as the bulge between his thighs is getting bigger, he can't help but to focus on you and only you. Tonight, it's just you and everything you ever want. He had his fair share of people in bed before you, but never once he though he can be this generous in bed and it's only because it's you.

Katsuki can feel it, he feels how close you are as your walls tighten in his fingers.

"I know, Princess. I got you. Look at me." You try your best to look at him and not close your eyes. "Do not even think about it, I got you." Katsuki says, his pace unchanging. You start shivering as he whispers sweet compliments into your ears.

"L-love... Fuck..."

"It's okay my love, let it all out." Katsuki just stares at you with the greatest affection you have never seen someone give you. You feel the heat rising inside you, and in just a few thrusts, you are there.

"Katsuki!" You exclaim. Katsuki's fingers still going in and out inside you as you shiver and fall in to him.

He slowly changed his pace and let your cum spill into his fingers. "Atta girl." Katsuki left a peck at your lips. "You did so great, Princess. I am so proud of you."

He gently caresses your shoulders as you slowly drift from your high. When you got back to your senses, you face him, staring at his eyes. "How was it, my love?" Katsuki asks.

"It... it was perfect. Thank you." You say.

"No need to thank me. You should never forget that I will always be more than willing to give your everything you need." Katsuki says before kissing you. Once he let go, you burry your face in the crook of his neck has he wrap his arms around you. His hand playing with your hair.

You feel yourself slowly drifting in to sleep. "Sleep well, my Princess." Katsuki moves you closer to him, his eyes also wanting rest.

"Maybe we should come up with a signal for next time this happens, you little minx." Katsuki says smiling before drifting off to sleep.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

more of katsuki, here! ♡

#bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo katuski #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo x reader #mha #katsuki smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x you #lucid thoughts #yel0ngkape #blastiebabe

93 notes · View notes

engineering-a-better-world · 2 days ago

Text

hmm what have been my worst technology curses?

i couldn’t open my camera app or else colorful static would streak across the screen. i had to reboot the phone to get rid of it every time. i had dropped this phone a few times but it had no cracks or anything

the computer touchscreen would think i was pressing certain spots until i pushed hard on the back of the computer in the corresponding spot

i tried watching something on the basement TV over a decade ago and literally no one can figure out how to get it to work anymore. it turns on and changes inputs and everything but the cable box and DVD player won’t show up

i would get all kinds of weird squares and text on my computer screen sometimes but it would shift or go away if i ran my cursor over those spots. it was like squeegeeing the curse off so i could use those parts of the screen

i tried doing long exposure photography on a nice digital camera and it wouldn’t last longer than a tenth of a second. this type of camera had the capability. i followed all kinds of tutorials for this specific model. no one could fix it for me

my friend was trying to test her temperature while we were on a video call. the thermometer gave an error a half dozen times before i suggested she hang up on me and try again. it worked on the first try. she called me back and it stopped working

i currently can’t charge my computer while using it or else it overheats and goes black. the same happens if Discord is open at the same time as the tab i played DnD on

the number of earbuds, dongles, and charging cords i’ve gone through is truly ludicrous. some kind of wire always comes loose and sometimes i can get things to work but only if i hold everything at the exact perfect angle. we thought the earbud problem would go away if i tried bluetooth earbuds. it took less than a month for one ear to stop working. the next lasted a tad longer but i just ask for the cheap wired earbuds because they’re going to break anyway

so many of my phones and computers were broken in the wildest of ways. someone fell down the stairs and directly onto my school backpack. i tripped over my power cord. i threw a peach pit off a deck and my phone fell out of my pocket and into a puddle, the screen peeling off in the process. somehow the charging cord fused something in my laptop that left it unusable??? this curse has followed me from slide phone to smart phone. i refuse to get anything very fancy. an OtterBox defender case is the most essential item for every phone. i need all the help i can get

i don’t know which technology god i angered in my childhood. my current devices are very kind to me so i hope i’m doing something right

my friend liz downloaded some free audio software a few months ago to do something and now every time she joins a call a female voice says “trial. trial.” and liz doesn’t remember the name of the software or know how to stop it and she doesn’t want to

#uncaptioned #long post

179K notes · View notes

annab-nana · 2 days ago

Note

Hii for the february sleepover can I request a fluffy Wanda x fem!reader? It's Valentine's day and they usually spend it home, but this time one of them wants do to something more. (I hope that's not too many prompts, but I feel like they fit together)

valentine’s prompts; tropes:

4. “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.”

2. “i understand if you don’t want to, but i wanted to tell you that i planned a few things for us today.”

& quiet acts of love that make me cry:

"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

when they follow the sidewalk rule (I see Wanda doing this since she's an Avenger and all)

THANK YOU ❣️❣️

i don't think it's too many! let's put them all together :)

warnings: not proofread, tooth-rotting fluff

❀ masterlist ❀

"coming!" you called out as you rushed to the door, fixing your shirt to look more presentable for the unexpected visitor.

you swung the door open, meeting the gaze of your favorite redhead before your eyes fell down to the small bouquet of flowers she was holding. she stretched out her arm to push the bundled flowers closer to you.

"i brought you flowers," wanda said softly, a warm grin on her face.

you accepted them with a furrowed brow. "for what?" you whispered, bringing the flowers up to your nose to smell them.

"there has to be a reason?" the avenger asked when your eyes met hers again. you couldn't fight the warmth that swirled around in your chest, heating up your heart and making you smile.

you stepped aside to let wanda into your apartment before you followed her in. she sat on your couch while you searched for a vase for the flowers. "no avengering today?" you asked when you found the perfect red stained glass vase for the flower. because of her, red was becoming your favorite color.

"no, not today," she stated with a chuckle before her voice changed with the change in subject. "so i understand if you don’t want to, but i wanted to tell you that i planned a few things for us today."

"you planned stuff for us?" you questioned in gentle awe of her as you filled the vase with water. no one had loved you like she did and it still surprised you every day.

"of course, i did," she said like it was nothing but a thing. "and c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you."

you fought a smile while you placed the flowers in the vase and arranged them how you liked. you brought the vase over to the coffee table in front of the couch and stepped back to admire its beauty. then you glanced up to admire the beauty of the woman you love.

"let's go," wanda told you, grabbing your hand and leading you out the door.

once you two started to walk to your first destination, she pulled you to her other side, the side farther from the road and closer to the buildings you passed. your heart fluttered at her action and how subconsciously she did it while she continued to tell you about the plans she had for you both today.

if you were honest with yourself, you weren't entirely paying attention to the words leaving her lips. you were in your own little world, captivated by the love you felt for the woman beside you and wondering how you got so lucky to have her in your life.

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tag list: @marjorieswrld @jellyfishbeansontoast @idfk-x2 @x-lulu

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff blurbs #blurbs #scarlet witch #marvel #anon #❀ nonnie ❀#february sleepover ୨♡୧

63 notes · View notes

abyssalpeach · 1 day ago

Text

in the case of the people vs. bell's hells...

and also the campaign 3 finale overall. disclaimer: this is gonna get long bc of my propensity to yap so i'm gonna simultaneously try to keep it short but also put it under a "read more." spoilers will be referenced throughout.

i wouldn't call these rent-lowering gunshots, but i desperately need some of the folks in this fandom to get a grip. so instead i'm asking: walk with me. hold my hand. i am looking you in the eyes and want this fandom to be a nice place. please forgive me for any attitude but i am tired of being talked down to.

"they never faced any consequences" consequences are the result bad dice rolls. of which they had plenty. if you think their narrative choices should have resulted in more punishment, say that. but i think you missed the part where they have targets on their back from several factions and now-mortal deities and you need to kill the cop in your head.

"it was too confusing and the pacing was bad" i don't even disagree with this takeaway. i will say this was actually the easiest campaign for me to follow. m9 is so fun, but was very narratively scattered at times. however, i think this is just the nature of ttrpg/actual play. it's not scripted. it's messy and sometimes you'll zone out about it. sometimes what the players want isn't what grabs you personally. it doesn't mean they're wrong or bad to play it that way.

"i fell off c3 and everything i've heard about the finale is stupid" fall off, then. totally fine, i'm not here to stop you, sincerely. and not to hurl cliches, but with tabletop it really is more about the journey than the destination. without context, you are missing too many pieces to pass judgement. that's all i'm gonna say on that.

"the other PCs were just so much better" i gotta say this one seems like a skill issue lol. there's not a single party i haven't loved with my whole heart, but they satisfy different purposes or dynamics! vm was destined for greatness. m9 was destined to pull important strings. bh was destined to shake up the order of things. they were supposed to be controversial in-world. they're salt of the earth, rising far beyond their stations ever expected. they became important at work and it very nearly ruined their lives.

"it was like sitting in a philosophy 101 class" praytell what philosophy classes that you've sat in discussed the ethics of magic, direct divine involvement in human* lives, and potential outcomes that would come along with killing all the gods or releasing something called the god-eater. look. i grew weary with the rehashing of these conversations too, really i did. that said, i think it needed to play out this way in order for the finale to go the way it did.

allow me to explain. one of the defining qualities of bell's hells was how different they all were. whether it's their perspectives, life experiences, backgrounds, desires, aspirations... you get it. this was the point. they were bound together by compassion and love for each other. and this extended to those they stood for personally, and those their friends cared about. it was how they approached ruidus, the gods, the people of vasselheim. and they walked the walk and trusted the process, prepared to face anything. including death.

*obviously including all exandrian/ruidian races beyond just human

"the finale cheapened the ending of vox machina" it didn't. i'm sorry but it very fundamentally did not and if that's your takeaway from a change of circumstance ~30 years down the line, i am worried that you are too lost in the sauce due to favoritism. if your takeaway from vax being allowed to return to the material plane is that now his conclusion from 30 years ago was just him going on a work trip, that is a you problem.

the narrative doesn't treat it like that. the characters don't treat it like that. the cast doesn't treat it like that. let me repeat myself: if you think vax's c1 ending is now nothing more than a glorified work trip, that is a you problem.

life goes on. the state of the world is changing constantly, especially in a world with gods and magic and different planes of existence. matt allowed these players to have direct involvement in the ways it changes. if vax was allowed to return in some capacity as a result of those changes, the cast made that happen. it wasn't even on bell's hells priority list! this was a natural change of circumstance. if that's the kind of thing you find upsetting, maybe unpack that elsewhere.

i'm gonna wrap it up here but i hope you keep this in mind: if you don't like a thing anymore, you can absolutely drop it. you don't need anyone's permission. but what i ask is that if you want to engage in thoughtful conversation and criticism about it, you keep these things in mind.

i don't believe this show or cast to be above criticism. i have plenty of critiques of my own. but the campaign three finale was the opposite of bad. it was the most satisfying conclusion we could have possibly gotten. it was the culmination of the last 3 years with almost everyone who encountered bell's hells and honored the last 10 years of their hard work. i am so so proud of matt and the cast and i think you should be too.

#critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #cr #i needed to get this off my chest #hope this reads as equally petty and sincere bc i am so sick of being talked to like i'm an idiot for enjoying this #BY MY OWN STUPID FANDOM #i'm a writer with a comms/media studies degree i think you're just throwing a fit about things changing #if you really want to see a lackluster and insulting conclusion to a beloved franchise you should try dragon age veilguard #and if you're thinking about arguing with me in the comments or replies please reconsider #try self reflection instead

58 notes · View notes

bitchinbarzal · 2 days ago

Text

Choose Me | J Middleton

summary: you overhear something you shouldn’t and jake realises he can’t lose you over it.

The bar is packed, buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a big win. Jake is in the center of it all, surrounded by teammates and friends, his laugh carrying over the music. You had been standing near the bar, sipping a drink, when you heard his voice—clear as day, cutting through the noise like a slap to the face.

“Marriage? Nah, man. I don’t see the point. We’re good how we are.”

You freeze. The words slam into your chest with the force of a slapshot.

You turn to look at him, your stomach twisting as he claps his teammate on the back, completely unaware that his words just shattered something inside you.

You want to walk away, pretend you didn’t hear it, but the ache in your chest demands otherwise. So you step forward, heart pounding, and call his name.

Jake turns, still grinning—until he sees your face. His expression falters. “Hey, baby. What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you.” Your voice is steady, but barely.

He nods, sensing the shift in your mood, and follows you outside. The cold Minnesota air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat boiling inside you.

You round on him the second the door closes. “So, you don’t see the point?”

He blinks. “What?”

“Marriage, Jake. You don’t see the point in marrying me?”

His jaw tightens. “You heard that?”

“Yeah, I did.” You cross your arms, trying to keep your voice even, but the hurt seeps through. “Is that how you really feel?”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t think marriage changes anything. We’re good, aren’t we?”

“Maybe you think that, but I don’t,” you snap. “I want to get married, Jake. I’ve always wanted that.”

His brow furrows. “Why? It’s just a piece of paper—”

“It’s not just a piece of paper to me!” Your voice breaks, and you shake your head. “It’s about commitment. It’s about choosing each other, every day, no matter what. It’s about knowing that we’re in this for life, that we’re building something real.”

His face twists in frustration. “You think I’m not committed to you? You think I don’t love you?”

You swallow hard. “I think you don’t want the same things I do. And if that’s the case… then what’s the point?”

His eyes widen, panic flickering across his face. “Wait, what are you saying?”

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “If you don’t want to get married, then I don’t see a future here.”

“Baby, come on.” His voice is rough, desperate. “You’re really gonna walk away over this?”

You hate the way your body trembles, hate that you love him so much it physically hurts. But you can’t ignore this. You won’t settle.

“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t want the same future as me.” The words taste like regret, but you say them anyway.

And then you walk away.

Jake doesn’t sleep that night.

Or the night after that.

Or the one after that.

Your absence is everywhere. The bed is too cold, too big. The apartment feels empty, hollow. He catches himself reaching for his phone too many times, only to remember you’re not his to call anymore.

And it wrecks him.

Because he was wrong. So goddamn wrong.

Losing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Worse than any injury, any loss on the ice. And if marriage is what you need to feel secure, to feel loved, then he’s a goddamn idiot for ever making you think he wouldn’t give that to you.

He just needs to prove it to you.

It’s a week later when you step out of your building and nearly run into Jake.

Your breath catches. He looks exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, like he hasn’t been sleeping. But his eyes, stormy and desperate, are locked onto you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask cautiously.

“Fighting for you.” His voice is rough, and he exhales, pulling something from his pocket. Your heart nearly stops when you see the small velvet box in his hand.

Your lips part in shock. “Jake—”

“I fucked up,” he says, stepping closer. “I was scared. Not of commitment, not of you—just of the idea that I could lose you. But I already did, didn’t I?” His voice breaks. “And I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”

Tears blur your vision. “Jake—”

“You wanna get married?” He opens the box, revealing a ring. “Then let’s get married. Not because I have to, not because you’re making me—because I want to. Because if being your husband is what it takes to keep you, then I’ll do it a thousand times over.”

Your breath hitches. “Are you serious?”

He steps even closer, crowding into your space, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you more than anything. And I want a life with you. Whatever that looks like—married, kids, whatever. As long as it’s you.”

A sob escapes you, and suddenly, you’re in his arms. He holds you so tightly, like he’s terrified you’ll slip away again.

“You idiot,” you whisper against his chest. “You should’ve just said that in the first place.”

His laugh is shaky, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know. I’m sorry. Just—tell me it’s not too late.”

You pull back, meeting his gaze, then glance at the ring in his hand. Your heart swells, aching and full.

And then you nod. “Ask me properly.”

His lips curve into a slow, relieved smile. He sinks to one knee, still holding your hand.

“Marry me?”

This time, there’s no hesitation.

“Yes”

#jake middleton imagine #jake middleton x reader #nhl imagine

54 notes · View notes

comflexxed · 18 hours ago

Text

june had never really been afraid of words. he had always known how to wield them, to turn them into something meaningful, something tangible. but as he stood before hans, watching the way the sunlight caught the tears that welled in his husband’s eyes, listening to the promises spoken with unwavering devotion, june found himself struggling to breathe around the sheer weight of his love.

hans had always been careful with his emotions, but today, they spilled freely between them, as if his heart could no longer contain them all. and june felt them in every breath, every look, every tear-stained word.

for a long moment, he could only stare, taking hans in, memorizing him as he was in this moment — his voice shaking, his lips curling into a smile even as his eyes glistened, his entire being radiating love.

it was overwhelming, and yet, it was the easiest thing in the world.

he swallowed against the lump in his throat, fingers tightening ever so slightly around hans’s hands. his vows were tucked safely in his pocket, but he didn’t reach for them — not yet. instead, he took a breath, and then, with all the love he held in his chest, he began to speak. “hans,” he said, voice soft, balanced despite the tears threatening to form, “i think i’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” he could feel his pulse in his fingertips, where their hands met, in the way his heart beat out a rhythm only hans could ever understand.

i didn’t always know what love was supposed to feel like. i didn’t understand why people made promises they couldn’t keep, why they spoke of love as if it was something fleeting, something that could disappear when the seasons changed. but then i met you. and suddenly, love wasn’t some distant, unattainable thing. it wasn’t a word without meaning. love was you. love was in the way you looked at me like i was something worth holding on to. it was in the way you reached for my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. it was in every quiet moment, every whispered word, every dream we’ve shared together. love wasn’t a feeling. it was a person. it was you.

he exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of hans’s hand, grounding himself in his touch.

i have loved you in so many ways, hans. in the way i watch you tend to the flowers, as if your hands were made to bring things to life. in the way you hold our little family together with so much care, so much patience, as if you were always meant to. in the way you stand beside me, even when i’m too stubborn to ask. and i will love you in all the ways i have yet to. in the quiet mornings, when the world is still waking up. in the moments of uncertainty, when you need someone to remind you of who you are. in the years to come, as we grow old together, as our hands wrinkle but still find each other in the dark. so today, i vow to you what my heart has already promised a thousand times before. i vow to always stand beside you, even when the path ahead is unclear. i vow to be your home, your safety, your constant, just as you are mine. i vow to keep growing with you, to keep learning with you, to keep loving you in every way that i can. and above all, i vow to choose you — over and over, in this life and in the next, in every lifetime we are given. because you are my love, my light, my forever. and i will always be yours.

june let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his vision blurred now with the weight of his own tears. and then he smiled, just for hans, just for this moment.

the ceremony hadn’t started, but as hans looked into june’s eyes, it was like they were having a ceremony of their own. there in that quiet moment shared between the two of them, they had already spoken their love, bound their souls together, and became inseparable before they could even reach the dais.

his smile was that of assurance, with no trace of worry for what could go wrong—just that calmness within him that told him june’s presence was all he needed. “let’s go get married,” he echoed, and finally, his feet moved.

their walk to the dais felt like a glide to the ocean, the sand beneath them shaping around each footfall, immortalizing the steps they took to get to the altar. seagulls sang with the gentle waves for their procession music, and jinx and scooter trailed behind, not quite cognizant but joining in the solemn moment. hans never let go of june’s hand—the hand that always kept him steady. the hand that he would soon adorn with their wedding band.

as they reached their destination, the flowers welcoming them with the sweet scent of life they had started for themselves, hans turned to face june with a deep inhale. “this is it,” he whispered, lifting his hand to cup june’s cheek as the first tear fell from his eyes. he chuckled, knowing he’d be the first to cry on this day, but still being surprised at how such happiness could overflow so quickly.

he brought his hand down only so he could reach for the piece of paper he had been carrying with him everywhere, his vows scribbled in neat handwriting but with tear marks all over. he smiled at june, a gentle smile, and he took a deep breath before reading through his vows.

they say souls wander the earth after we pass, waiting to be reborn into our new life. my darling june, i think my soul did not do a lot of wandering. i think it always knew where it wanted to be reborn and went straight for it—because it is wherever you would be born in, so that we can be together again as two pieces of the same soul. i have always thought that there was nothing waiting for me in this life, until you came along and taught me what living was like--what truly being alive felt like. it was not going through the motions of waking up and sleeping; it was experiencing all the joys, all the pain, all the love that made our hearts grow fonder of each other. you taught me how beautiful the world could be, even if we had so little. you taught me that nightmares made appreciating good dreams possible. and you, my love, you showed me that life could always grow where there is someone to nurture it. you always saw my decisiveness as a good thing. you always saw my daydreaming as a foundation for our reality. you always made me feel strong when i thought i was helpless. and today, i vow to continue to dream with you about the life we will have, and to turn it into reality day by day. i vow to be a strong foundation when it’s your turn to feel weak. i vow to never waver, to always turn to you, my best friend and protector, to be my guiding light. and in turn, be yours. i vow to be with you in this life and the next, and to always fill your days with adventure, love, and support. i will always see you in every little plant we grow, in every wave that crashes to the shore, in every ray of sunshine hiding behind the clouds. you are the other half of me, and i vow to never leave your side now and forever.

hans’ eyes were misty with tears as he finished, his hand still shaking as he returned the piece of paper in his pockets. all he could see was june, and as it always will be, he was the only one that mattered.

#[ 04 ] ─ * knight verse { wear my loyalty like a crown }

438 notes · View notes

man-i-love-fanfiction · 12 hours ago

Text

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter 6: Pink Camellias - Longing For You

Summary: Andy stops by on a particularly stressful day, and a different favorite customer gives you a bit of a rude awakening.

Word Count: 2442

Author's Note: Hey my lovelies! Thank you all so much for the positive feedback I've received from so many of you since the last chapter. Enjoy this chapter, this one and the next one are going to be on the shorter side to prepare for an upcoming behemoth i have planned ;)

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @wub-wub-wub-wub-wub @padfootblackswh0r3 @axel-the-boy-witch

fic under the cut <3

So far, your day was terrible, which meant it was on par with the rest of your week.

Everything you had detailed on that late night phone call to Andy a few weeks ago had only gotten worse. The date for foreclosure was slowly approaching, your debt nearly canceled out by the sheer amount of customers you were getting recently. You could only imagine it had just become an online trend to… be nice to your partner? Whatever the incentive was, it was helping out the business, but not so much your wallet.

You often brought your frustrations to Andy, and he was so supportive it made your heart ache. Even though he’d explicitly stated often that it was completely fine for you to vent to him like this, you apologized profusely every time. This is how talking to him would start, though after a few minutes they diverged to a million other topics.

This was exactly the kind of conversation you were planning on having when he visited you today. And you couldn't wait. A countdown of the seconds until he walked in was playing in your brain.

One, two, three.

You needed the break from your life that talking to Andy offered you.

_Four, five, six._

You craved the stability, how even if your life was crumbling before you, you would always be able to find him in the rubble.

Seven, eight, nine.

He wasn't your sole motivator to keep going, but he definitely helped.

Ten—

"Hey there.”

Uncharacteristically perfect timing.

You pulled your attention away from the clock on the wall to catch your first glimpse of him for the day. For the first time since you’d met him, he was wearing a hat, a black baseball cap with some logo on it you didn't recognize. His hair was tied back into a bun. Though he had his attempts at being stylish from time to time, today was not one of them, his zip-up hoodie and jeans making it evident that today was not a day where he felt like trying. Maybe he was having as crappy of a day as you were. Just in case he was, you greeted him with more enthusiasm in your voice than usual.

“Hi! How's it going?”

“Pretty alright, actually,” he started, before continuing his sentence with a question that seemed to give you a headache simply by hearing it. “How are you?”

You sighed before you spoke, grimacing just at the thought of your emotions.

“I am so stressed that talking about how stressed I am will only make me more stressed. I need a change of pace. And topic.”

He picked up what you were putting down immediately, something that had become almost like second nature to him. A good distraction.

“There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you, now that you've reminded me.”

Oh no.

The thoughts of what he could possibly have to ask you began to cloud your mind, and some of the various possibilities made your heart beat much faster than it should. When he started so say something again, there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. Unusual for you, since you’d grown so accustomed to him being more confident in your presence, but you let him speak.

“So… ehm… my birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks. To celebrate, some of my friends and I are gonna go to the pub and I was wondering if you'd like to come along.”

To say you were relieved was an understatement. The wide smile on your face was an answer in itself, but you responded anyway.

“Andy, I’d love to.”

“Great! Grand. I’ll mark you down as saying ‘yes’.”

“There’s no way I’d say no. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

A smile, almost the same as your own, grew on his lips.

“By the way, this will be a genuine get-together. You’ll get to meet some of my other friends, as well.”

You feigned shock.

“So it's not just me and this Alex fellow you talk about?”

“No. Contrary to popular belief, I do have more than just two friends.”

You both let out your own laughs, almost in unison with one another. To be joking around with someone you trusted and kept so close… for a moment, it helped you believe everything was alright.

“I’m excited to celebrate with everyone,” you said, sincerity returning to your tone. “Get ready for a present for the ages. For the history books, even.”

He shook his head in denial, stopping your excitement in its tracks.

“Y/N, you don't have to get me anything . I’m a grown man, I’ll live if I don't get a birthday present.”

“Well, I’m a grown woman and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't get you anything. So let me-”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door ringing.

You peeked behind him at who had just walked in. You had to look down to meet her gaze, and when you realized you recognized her weathered face, you smiled.

“Violet! Great to see you! I’ll be right with you.”

Andy tilted his head at your exclamation.

“Violet?”

“Remember when I said you were tied for the title of my favorite customer with a little old lady? I wasn't joking. Meet your competitor.”

You watched as he looked over his shoulder, his head turning to be met with a small, older woman with gray hair and possibly the warmest smile you’d ever seen. Clutching onto purse with one hand like her life depended on it, she gave him a small wave.

“I think I’ll shut myself up for now. You have actual clients to get to.”

“Alright. I’ll come by your work tomorrow. Oh, and about your birthday. Just text me the time and the address and I’ll be there. With an amazing present because you can't stop me.”

A small smile, the kind that barely showed his teeth, spread across his face.

“Thank you. I will see you then.”

He waved goodbye, and you could’ve sworn you saw ink smudged on the side of his hands.

Both of you watched as he left, though with different intentions behind your gazes. You pulled your eyes away when he left, almost afraid to keep your gaze on him. Violet's eyes, however, seemed to linger, from shock more than anything else. Once he was out of both of your fields of vision, you returned to facing each other.

Violet had become part of your routine, and you slowly became part of each other's lives. Every time she came in, she talked to you about anything on her mind. Yet for the chatterbox that she was, she managed to be an enigma for you. She came in monthly, on the first day of the month, always ordering flowers as a centerpiece for when her “group of ladies” came around. You couldn't tell if she was in a book club or a coven, but neither answer would surprise you. In as sweet a tone as ever, she initiated your conversation.

“I’ve been here a thousand times, but I don't think I’ve ever seen that man before. Who was that?”

“Oh, that's Andy. He's my…”

You couldn't quite find the words to complete that sentence. Andy was your friend, obviously, but the word felt so odd, almost bitter on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it. To save yourself any pain, you tiptoed around it.

“He works at the tattoo parlor a few blocks away. He visits me sometimes.”

“He seems like such a sweet young man.”

“He is! He really is.” You nodded.

Violet, despite her years of living and likely unlimited wisdom, found nothing wrong with her next sentence.

“I don't mean to pry, but I had no idea you were dating someone! How long have you two been together?"

Your eyes widened so much you were afraid they would pop out of your skull. What in the world could have made her ask that? Why did your palms get so clammy? Had someone turned up the heat?

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “No, no, no. Andrew and I… we aren't dating. We're just friends.”

The older woman raised a quizzical brow, as if she didn't believe you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Violet. I’d know if I was in a relationship.”

“Then, is he sure?”

“He's sure. too. We're not dating. We're friends. Friends.”

Were you trying to convince her or yourself?

She shook her head, accompanied by a tsk, tsk, tsk.

“What is it?”

“Dear, I’ve been around for… I’m not even sure how many years. I know a look filled with love when I see it. And the way that boy looks at you is the same look I’ve seen in loves that last lifetimes. It's the same look my wife gives me every single day. One of you should do something about that look.”

Her thorough analysis left you stunned. You attempted to put the pieces together in your brain, trying to mask your confusion as you did so.

“I’d never noticed that before.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. What’s the point of eyesight if you're not going to use it?”

You chuckled at that, though you also used it as a way to ignore the truth behind the statement. Did he look at you a certain way? Were you so deep into your oblivion that you just never noticed before? Or so deep into your own infatuation, too busy staring at him through your own eyes, to pay attention to how you might look through his? With all your newfound. overthinking all you could do was reply with a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you for that. I appreciate the advice.”

Violet was capricious in her conversation, easily distracted if you could get her back on the right track. In this moment, you utilized her fickleness to steer her back on track. Or at least, get the conversation back on the track you were comfortable with.

“Do you have a bouquet request?”

She thought for a moment, giving you a slow nod before she verbalized her answer.

“Well, it is starting to be spring time, and the girls and I just finished reading a Jane Austen novel, so love is in the air. Maybe focus on pink. I’ll let you handle the rest. I’ll be back later on to pick it up."

She placed the same vase she used monthly on the counter. It bounced back and forth between you two, exchanged each time you created a new arrangement. The only thing that changed was the color of the bow on the exterior.

“Sounds like a plan. Have a lovely day.”

“You too, dear.”

One last warm smile crossed her face before she went to leave. She shuffled her way out the door, leaving you room to get started.

Violet’s lenient instructions were perfect; it gave you a guideline, but mostly the creative control was in your hands. The only thing you had to keep in mind was pink.

The first idea your mind went to was pink camellias. They were in season, and with spring on the horizon, they were perfect. And you couldn't turn down adding them in when their meaning was so poetic. Longing for you. It tugged at your heartstrings just to think about it — how people from hundreds of years ago felt the same emotions, the same deep want or need for a person, as people do today. A feeling so strong they couldn't put it in words, or didn't trust themselves to say it. So they let a flower take its place.

Pink camellias had to be the focus.

Using the vase Violet had left behind, you worked the rest of your suggestions, mixing and matching until both beauty and semantics aligned. Pink roses, perfect happiness. Magenta zinnia, lasting affection. Mix in some white carnations for sweetness and innocence to break it up, and it was finished. The ladies were sure to love it, whether they were casting a spell or reading Jane Eyre.

For the first time in a few days, you wanted to feel calm. You had been too many things going on in your life for you to focus on being present.

There was so much stress looming over you recently. You were unsure just how much longer you would have your place of work. Your family and your friends all seemingly wanted you to be more ahead in your life than you were. You had a huge, almost debilitating crush on Andy, and he probably didn't reciprocate.

Andy. He had been there for you whenever you need to talk about all that was on your mind, his kindness never wavering. Even though he was receptive to you, there was still a sense of guilt for spilling your guts to him like that. You were there for him as well, of course, though he didn't have as many complaints about his daily life as you did. All his kindness and his attention only made you like him even more, only making you more nervous and stressed about liking him. It was a downward spiral, and an exceedingly dizzying one at that.

The flower shop was the only refuge you could have. When you weren't in a state of worry over orders or foreclosure, it was the part of your day that provided you the most comfort. You had the opportunity to make these beautiful works and showcase your creativity and here you were, taking it for granted. You needed to ground yourself, to take a breather, to be in the moment.

So in your moment of desperation, you turned to your flowers for comfort.

Being so exposed to the scent of the flowers every day for years meant you got used to them over time. You slowly got accustomed until you eventually couldn't even detect the unique aroma of your workplace.

You took a pause, and leaning over the arrangement, you took a deep breath.

You had literally stopped to smell the roses.

The more shocking part was that it worked. You had successfully grounded yourself by stopping to appreciate your surroundings. Surely that had to be a metaphor for something.

You were snapped out of your tranquility. Of course you were.

You heard a voice, slightly judgmental and maybe a bit concerned, from the other side of the room.

“What was that?”

You perked up at the sound of the bell above the door, and quickly pulled yourself away from the flowers.

“Nothing! How can I help you?”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #writing #fanfic #hozier fanfic #hozier fanfiction #writeblr #writers on tumblr #to share the space with simple living things

35 notes · View notes

aprilblossomgirl · 3 days ago

Text

i feel like i'm hurting so much for faifa in this episode. he doesn't deserve to hear that many hurtful words. before i continue, i think i need to say this first: as an asian myself, i will always understand why most (asian) shows choose forgiveness when dealing with bad parents/parenting, no matter how unforgivable they might be seen by the rest of the audience. and that, i believe, is not of any agenda by the showmaker. of course, to not generalize it, few medias didn't go through that route because of a different preference or goal in the storytelling. however, understanding forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean i believe it is always the 'right' way of wrapping up an arc.

thinking about the upcoming faifawine's story starting next week, i feel like some dialogues in this episode, no matter how they really felt off to me, are intentionally right there as a further backstory for faifa. and especially if the directing choice of faifa's expression changes through that scene with the whole family is anything to go by.

when yotha called fai, he said this first: "Tell me honestly. Don’t be scared of hurting anyone." as if yotha knows that fai always keeps his feelings to himself to avoid hurting anyone else.

fai trying to come up with a reasoning, "I was probably just angry with her, but I think everyone was hurt by what happened— Dad, Newton, and Mom." as if to avoid answering yotha's question, "Do you hate her?" with his real answer.

"If Mom really wanted to abandon us, why would she have taken me with her?" shows that fai was not being optimistic (as yotha implied) but somehow trusted the mom. only to be shattered later, "I thought if I brought Faifa who loves being with his Dad and brothers, at least he would ask me to bring him back to visit everyone often and we’d all see each other sometimes. On the other hand, if I’d brought you, Yotha, we might have been so happy that we wouldn’t have wanted to come back and see anyone here again..." (what nonsense! i cannot understand any logic behind this one.) in a way implying that she might haven't been that happy with fai, which somehow validate what he and yotha had been talking about before: "I don’t know why she took me with her even though you were the one who wanted to go." / "Because she loves you more than me." / "That’s definitely not the reason." oh, i was right. mom doesn't love me. but she's hurting. but...

imagine being faifa, hearing all of those hurtful excuses, but his immediate response was trying to justify why mom did what she did instead of trying to validate the real feeling he himself was having. and i say this with my whole being: that's a pretty accurate representation of how we, asian kids, mostly were nurtured. the scene just stabbed me right in the heart.

faifa might haven't said anything, but his face didn't lie. you could very clearly see how his face instantly dropped once mom told her reason for taking him instead of yotha at that time. and i still cannot forget the face he made a few episodes back when mom gave him something he was allergic to. the level of gaslighting here is too suffocating to witness. the emotional neglect just hits too hard. i cannot even begin to break it further into fai's loneliness.

all these made me wonder how the upcoming third arc will 'deal' with fai's inner wound. i hope the show won't brush it off because i think it would add more depth to the romance part, how he navigates his feelings once someone finally enters his life, as it has been implied that wine was also dealing with heartbreak.

#perfect 10 liners #p10l #april.txt #i can't wait for next week and please let faifa free from the pain. he deserves so much love and hugs.#okay hitting the post now button before i changed my mind and delete this

52 notes · View notes

exhaustedpirate · 20 hours ago

Text

warm, clingy bodies

day 10 of @bucktommyfluffebruary (better late than never, right?) thought about making this smutty, ended up going the real fluffy route, as everything with bucktommy, i don't plan anythin, i just let them take over my life, my brain, my heart!

rated T | 1064 words also on AO3

Evan was clingy.

There was something about physical affection that seemed to appeal to the younger man. Tommy often found himself holding Evan’s hand at any given time, or with arms wrapped around his waist, or with the younger firefighter perched on his lap. He had fallen asleep many times with Evan’s fingers running through his hair.

Well, Evan was very clingy.

There wasn’t a moment where his boyfriend wouldn’t have his hands on him. It was probably unconscious, just a need to touch, to connect, to make sure Tommy was still there. He wasn’t sure.

Tommy’s last relationship wasn’t like this. It was colder, distant. Evan was the sun, warm, so warm. He was becoming obsessed with his boyfriend’s need to touch, to hold.

The boxes of the pizza they had for dinner are scattered along the coffee table, their empty beers carefully placed next to them. A movie about a man and a woman falling in love under strange circumstances is on TV.

He doesn’t really know the title anymore, hasn’t retained any information regarding plot, character names or even if it’s set in America. He’s distracted by other things.

Evan’s leg is draped over Tommy’s and his arms are wrapped around his torso. His head is a weight on his shoulder and his breathing warms up his t-shirt covered chest. Tommy’s hand runs slowly up and down Evan’s back while the other strokes his forearm. There’s a blanket over their legs and it’s all so warm, so intimate.

He didn’t think he would ever get this.

He never wants to let it go.

Evan’s breathing is starting to slow and Tommy smiles. The music is swelling on the TV and he’s sure the main couple is going to kiss - formulaic but not a criticism.

“Evan?”

He feels the answering hum vibrating along his side and tightens his hold on the younger man.

“Do you want to go to sleep?”

There is a minute shake of his head and Evan’s hand clings to his t-shirt, in the middle of his chest, while he hooks his fingers in his beltloop with the other. “I’m good,” He answers and hums appreciatively at the kiss Tommy lays on the top of his head. “I wanna see those crazy kids have their happily ever after.”

Tommy laughs and feels Evan snuggle closer to him, nose rubbing against his collarbone. “You’re gonna be snoring by the time those end credits roll, babe.”

“I don’t snore,” Evan complains half-heartedly. He does, Tommy has watched him sleep enough times to know that he loves Evan’s little snores. It’s not creepy, it’s romantic. He hopes. “And I’m not gonna fall asleep.”

“You wanna bet?”

It’s not fair, essentially a scam. He already knows Evan is falling asleep, knows all the signs of a sleepy Evan - his body warmth changes, his eyes flutter, his breathing settles and he clings.

All’s fair and all of that, he guesses.

“If I don’t fall asleep, you have to carry me to bed.” Evan clears his throat to make his voice clearer, no mumbling or drawn-out syllables. Tommy smirks at the attempt, sign number 5.

“And if you do?”

“You can be the little spoon tonight.”

Tommy laughs, how can he not? It’s not as if he won’t carry Evan to bed regardless. It’s not as if Evan doesn’t manhandle him during the night so he can wrap himself around Tommy’s back.

He can almost see the smirk in his boyfriend’s lips and he runs his hand up and down Evan’s thigh, relishing in the trembling of his muscles. “You have yourself a deal.”

Evan lifts his head to look up at Tommy and he gets his confirmation on the smirk. “Seal it with a kiss?”

As if he ever needs to ask. Tommy runs his hand up from his back to cup his jaw, Evan cushioning his head on his bicep, and tilts his boyfriend’s head up for a kiss. He swallows Evan’s sigh with his lips and lets his responding moan reverberate into the kiss. The kiss is slow, warm, all-consuming, unrushed, intoxicating, perfect.

Evan’s hand runs slowly up and down his chest, making its way under the shirt. Tommy shivers at the soft touch of his hand reaching up to his pecs, his hand tightening on Evan’s thigh. He presses small chaste kisses on Evan’s soft kisses as he disengages, relishing the contented noises his boyfriend makes, in the way he slowly blinks his eyes open.

There are declarations of love, of forever, coming from the TV. All Tommy sees is the slow smile spreading across his boyfriend’s lips, the bright hue of his eyes, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way his hands cling to him.

Tommy hopes Evan never lets go.

“Should I take you to bed?” Tommy’s voice is low, hoarse.

“Mhmm,” Evan nods, his eyes glinting with a promise before he straddles him, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s neck. “I won.”

Tommy blinks away the haze of arousal the kiss started and that the weight of his boyfriend on his lap heightened. Chancing a glance at the TV, he sees the credits rolling, names of actors and characters - ugh, who wants a love interest called Walsh? - that neither of them paid attention to.

“Guess I have to carry you then,” Tommy huffs in faux reluctance, his hands running up Evan’s thighs to grab hold of his ass. He bites his lips at the way his boyfriend shuffles in his lap at the touch. “Does that mean that I get to be the big spoon tonight?”

Evan hums, pressing a slow kiss to Tommy’s lips, fingers running up the back of Tommy’s neck. He is putty in his boyfriend’s hands. “Take me to bed and we’ll see.”

After a smacking kiss, Tommy grunts as he gets up from the couch, Evan wrapping tightly around his body with a delighted laugh. With a sigh, his boyfriend hides his face in the space between Tommy’s neck and shoulder completing his clinging hold.

Evan is very clingy, the clingiest boyfriend he ever had. The clingiest boyfriend he ever wants to have. They take up the least amount of space in Tommy’s massive bed, bodies tangled so close together, not even a dust particle could get between them.

Evan is very clingy. Tommy hopes that means he’ll want to keep him forever.

#carolina writes #bucktommy fluffebruary #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #domestic fluff #sleepy cuddles

29 notes · View notes

waifuoftomonori · 3 days ago

Text

Okay, I’ve answered most of these in other posts already, but I’ll go ahead and answer the ones I haven’t. (I’m not sure if this is the usual way to do this, but I doubt anyone’s gonna send me asks and I want to answer the questions anyway.) 1. N/A - no other fictional character brings me nearly as much joy, comfort, or lust as Tomonori of Scarlet Fate

2. Well, when I was a kid, I had a major crush on Farid from Inkheart, if that counts. I haven’t read those books in ages, so he is no longer a blorbo for me, and considering he’s a kid, I don’t know if he would still be if I reread those books. I feel like I might sympathize more with the author, or maybe even get a crush on— what was his name, Dustfinger?— the grown-up thief. …Anyway, due to that combined with the portrayal of certain characters in The Thief Lord, I blame Cornelia Funke for my lifelong obsession with rogues.

3. see my post about the moment of blorbo-ization

4. I have to pick just one? Oh, man. Okay, as impressive and sexy as Tomonori’s composure in the face of various threats is, from a snarling beefy monk to various gods/demons who want to end the world, my favorite thing about him has to be the world-altering potential of his unspoken but deeply passionate love for Shiki. This man was equally willing to cause the apocalypse or save the world for her. That is a choice he canonically laid at her feet. I’ve seen “I’ll end the world in your name / out of love for you” a few times before, and I’ve seen “I’ll save the world for you / because you’re in it” a few times, but this might be the first and only time I’ve seen a character who’s absolutely willing to do either. Who puts his personal opinion of whether the world should continue or end secondary to the opinion of the person he loves, even when he has the power to do either, and gives her that choice instead. That might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen a character do in fiction.

5. Do I dislike anything about him? Other than things the writers didn’t fully explain, like whoever decided the role he should play in Gentoka’s route, no. It’s not that I think he’s flawless, but his pettiness and stubbornness and (only sometimes necessary) secretive tendencies and all of that are endearing to me.

6. Uh, I don’t know. The writer in me would be dying to show him my fanfiction and ask, “How would you act if you were in this situation?” or “Is this something you think you would say? How would you change it?” about a million places in the work, but as a person I think that might make him uncomfortable, especially if it came out of nowhere. I do “talk to him” a lot in my journals, and my version of him answers back. We’ve had whole conversations. He can’t seem to stop calling me “Shiki” though; it feels incredibly awkward to have him use my real name for some reason.

7. There’s a fandom other than me? Like, a fandom with collective opinions and stuff? I had no idea.

8. Introvert who’s learned how to read people and interact with them in formal contexts out of necessity. He’ll paste on a smile and say all the right things in public, but if given the choice he’d rather be at home reading.

9. calm, devious, romantic

10. If he’s trying to protect me, yes, absolutely. If that’s not a guarantee and Shiki and Akifusa also exist in this world (mostly Shiki, he’s not quite as protective of Akifusa, who to be fair doesn’t need it from physical threats as much), then I’ll trust him to protect me as long as it doesn’t interfere with their lives or safety.

11. Yup. So many fanfics. Still writing them, in fact.

12. Yeah, my mom, dad, and stepdad all know about him and the extent of my obsession with him. I’d probably gush about him to my brothers more if they were home more often or showed even a trace of interest.

13. Anything I could feasibly see him doing? No. But then I guess if he committed an act that would severely change my opinion of him, he wouldn’t be the same character, would he? So maybe that’s the whole point of the question. …Uh, sorry for clarifying all that. I guess if he raped someone, that would change things.

14. Again: there’s a fandom? Never had that problem. But even if I did, I don’t think I would distance myself from the character, just from the other people. Or if I’d grown close with them, I’d just ask them to stop talking about the character with me, and I’d do the same with them. We’re allowed to have different opinions, but I shouldn’t have to hear them dissing my favorite character if I don’t want to, and I’d hope they would respect that as my friends.

15. Big fandom problems, not mine.

16. Define “canonically”.

17. Hell no. Look, not all writers are sadists who want to see characters suffer. When I do make him suffer, it’s because the story compels me to, or else there wouldn’t be interesting conflict for him (and usually Shiki and/or Akifusa as well) to eventually overcome.

18. Yes. With Shiki and Akifusa, as is doubtless abundantly clear by this point.

19. Short, smartass, scheming, morally complex men who are passionately in love with one woman for the vast majority of their lives. (Or man; I wouldn’t mind reading a gay version of this, I just haven’t found one yet.) Alternate type: thieves, rogues, bandits, cutpurses, pickpockets, footpads, maybe assassins in extreme cases. If the two “types” are combined in one character, so much the better. Also, on a list of fictional characters I find attractive, 4 of the… 20-ish have red eyes, and two of those four are ostensibly human.

20. N/A. …Or, I guess, no. Depending on how one defines “blorbo”. I have favorite characters (and ships) from other works of media, characters and ships of whom I prefer to read fanfiction over fanfiction of any other characters or ships, but I don’t get excited about them the same way I do about Tomonori.

21. N/A

22. I don’t know. I want to say yes, but if he were real I’d feel uncomfortable writing fanfiction about him, since I don’t do RPF. And although I adored him as a character in canon, I think it was through the fanfiction I wrote after that I grew to love him and all his many facets on a deeper level. But I guess if he were real, he’d be dead since he lived in the Heian era, so maybe I wouldn’t have that problem. But I dunno, then I’d have to do even more historical research, and that’s just a pain in the ass. I’d probably still admire him, though.

23. He’s a victim of 1. Gentoka’s route; 2. not appearing in the CD Drama official art that showed the 5 “main” love interests shirtless but apparently Tomonori didn’t matter enough to the writers for that; 3. not getting a nice yukata in the summer festival stories despite the fact that fuckin’ Akifusa got one and from goddess lady’s perspective I would think Tomonori would seem more important and thus more deserving of one, but again, apparently the writers and/or artists didn’t care enough about Tomonori for that; 4. not getting any additional “autumn” stories; and 5. not getting a sequel story. …If anyone does happen to have information that the people in charge of Scarlet Fate released extra bonus stories and/or official art of him wearing anything other than that kimono (or the school uniform for the high school AU CD Drama, but that doesn’t count because it’s not canon and they did it wrong anyway, Shiki should obviously have been childhood friends with Akifusa and Tomonori too, not just some rando girl they instantly crushed on at first sight— leave that to the other love interests)— please let me know, and let me know where I can read or see it.

24. hmmm. I don’t want to change anything. But if I had to? Let’s make him even shorter. Like, 5’0” or something. Even shorter than Shiki.

25. I’m pretty sure they used him in the Scarlet Fate+ app to introduce the player to the game, but of course at that time I didn’t realize who he was. How did I first discover that app? I was playing a bunch of similar otome at the time— well, similar in the sense that you’d spend some version of stamina to read stories for free 5 times a day, or you could pay once to gain access to the full story. I think I gave up on Scarlet Fate+ because it’s really not the kind of story that’s ideally read in small fragments like that, but later I returned to the paid version, bought it, and thoroughly enjoyed Akifusa’s route. (After reading Gentoka’s, which was kinda meh— and I have the problem with it I mentioned above, although I didn’t have that problem at the time because Gentoka’s route is lacking in Tomonori lore so I didn’t have the full context— but helped me realize Shiki’s a badass, and I liked it enough that I wanted to read about other characters. …Anyway, I read Akifusa’s next because Akifusa made me laugh, and I’ve found that’s usually a good sign I’ll enjoy an otome character’s route. Often that character will end up being my favorite. In this case, I fell in love with his best friend instead. Sorry, Akifusa. Look on the bright side, you’re one of the characters I ship with him.) 26. Definitely not. This sounds terrible to admit now, but at the time I thought he was just a tutorial character who they only included because he had a pretty face. Even after you get to see little hints of his personality in the game, I still had no clue. I think the first premonition I had that he might be a more interesting character than I gave him credit for was how he dealt with the “trolley problem” in Akifusa’s route. Possibly.

27. Of course I want more people to know about him. It’s tiring having to explain who he is every time. I joked about making an informational PowerPoint once, but I might seriously consider doing that.

28. Yes. Not for any reason to do with Tomonori specifically, but I have been attacked online for the mere fact that he is a fictional character and I’m obsessing over him. I think I made a post about that too.

29. I’m the only creator of fanfics about him that I know. No, my own fanfiction has not made me cry. It has moved me emotionally on occasion, but not to the point of tears.

30. It’s been six years so far. What’s another three? Sure.

BLORBO ASKS GAME

reblog if you’d like people to send you asks about your Blorbo

who’s the Blorbo that you’ve never posted about on your blog?

who was your first ever Blorbo, who was your childhood Blorbo, and are they still your Blorbo?

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made this character your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

have you ever written a fanfic about your Blorbo?

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

have you ever distanced yourself from your Blorbo / have you ever left a fandom because people in the fandom were being too toxic?

have you ever gotten involved in ship wars?

is your Blorbo canonically alive?

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

when it comes to Blorbos, do you have a type?

if you have more than one Blorbo, do you love them all equally?

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

how did you first discover your Blorbo?

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

have you ever been attacked online just because you liked your Blorbo?

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

#blorbo #comfort character #asks #tomonori kotokura #hiiro no kakera 4 #shall we date: scarlet fate

639 notes · View notes

aerialflight · 2 days ago

Text

fic rec list (2025 and all the random fandoms and ships i got stuck in)

It's truly been ages since I made a list and I'm not kidding when I say I've been wildly going back and forth in old and new fandoms. Yes, it includes arcane. It was short lived and glorious and I have so many to share with you now that the fever has passed (somewhat). Anyway! Hope you enjoy! (Also, I think this is the most shippy fic rec list I've ever made, it's fucking ridiculous fnewiofpewa)

[Arcane] (i want it noted that i was a jayce fan since s1 and the vindication i felt at the flood of jayce/viktor fics that came in after s2 was unparalleled. so yeah, nearly all the arcane fics on this list have this ship. sue me.)

Balance (this world is a wasteland but we can still grow) by zillac

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Viktor stays in the Hexcore chrysalis a few more hours. Jayce stays busy falling into the ravine of an alternate dimension and fighting his way back to his partner so that they can invent something new together: a future. ~~~ “What am I?” Viktor asked. “What do you want to be?” Jayce was bearded and haggard and hopeful. “Yours,” Viktor said, a memory and a realization both, like it was a truth that was woven into each of his metal and organic molecules.

(i need fix it fics like i need to breathe, especially for these two. it's not too long and hit the right spot for me when it came to the hurt/comfort, and there were some fucking lines here that legit made me look it up because it was so fucking beautiful and i needed to know if the author really came up with it, goddamn it. also, when i say fix it, i mean in general, not just for the ship. and caitlyn and jayce's relationship was so nice here, i loved it!)

Recourse Pathways by begaydocrimes10001

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce blinked once. He blinked again. There was the sun, and clouds, and when Jayce ran his hand over his cheeks, there was barely any stubble. (Jayce and Viktor find themselves in the past, just a few hours before a group of Undercity kids broke into Jayce's lab and sparked a chain of events that would later end the world. They get a second shot at preventing it, and, maybe, creating something better in its place.)

Part 1 of State of Matter Changes

(listen, i know that the fandom is bloated with time travel fix its by this point and i'm just as much as a sucker for them too, but i'm more in love with this series because of how much focus it puts on other characters and the chain reaction viktor and jayce's actions have beyond this first fic. truly, after part 1, the series shifts to other characters such as silco, vander, mel, and even sevika more. every fic expands and extends the series of events that occur to make zaun independent and what that actually means. it's so freaking good and the characterization and focus of each character and their perspective is excellent! even if you're not that into jayce/viktor, once you get past the initial part 1 of this series, you'll end up loving the political machinations that happen in the rest.)

Dress me in midnight, feast upon my bones by hexhomos

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

The rocket strikes through the heart. Reality collapses in less than five seconds. Jayce rebuilds Viktor, little by little, piece by piece. And if his partner comes back from the dead a little different, well... what's not to love? Jayce is a quick study. He can adjust himself into a suitable form. He pledged himself to this task a dozen years ago; he's in it for the long haul. * To put it bluntly: this is the one where Dr. Frankenstein runs away with his bride. ( Jayce follows Viktor down to the depths of Zaun, and amid the riots and war-banners, everything changes. )

(*screeEEEEAACH!!!* INSANE. TRULY AND POSITIVELY INSANE. GOD HELP ME I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH OH MY GOD FNEIOWFPEWA)(for the LOVE OF GOD the way this author fucking expands the idea of jayce being a goddamn immigrant and what that means, the author just fucking GETS him, AND VIKTOR IS A MAD SCIENTIST AND I STAND BY THIS SO FUCKING HARD HELL YEAH!! i just, god, GOD, the author got them so RIGHT. i know i'm yelling a lot, but seriously, it's so good. it's so so so good nfewofewa)(READ!!)

Forged in Fire by chicandcheesy

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce Talis has lived in the Undercity since he was eight. Now, he's a blacksmith with more scars and trauma than cash. He’s tired, broke, and frankly, just trying not to lose his mind. Then Viktor—a reclusive scientist who had been expelled from the Academy—walks into his forge one day. Suddenly, Jayce's life is turned upside down. Between questionable alliances, sexual tension, and Viktor’s maddening habit of being too smart for his own good, Jayce starts to think he might actually go mad. But if anyone’s worth the trouble, it's Viktor. - (A Zaunite Jayce AU)

(i am and always shall be in love with the idea of zaunite!jayce. it just, oof, hits me in the gut. the idea of someone so optimistic as jayce being rundown and hardened by zaun makes me feral. i love how you can see how much he's changed yet stayed the same compared to canon. every fic writer has their own idea of what jayce would be like if he lived in zaun and it's fascinating every time. also, it's so funny how much viktor is the same yet the power dynamics between them have been flipped. god, i can go on, but please just read the fic, it's so good fnewiofpnewe)

Run It Back Again by Withercrown

Ships: Jayce/Viktor, Silco/Vander

Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember. (Completed. Updates frequently.)

(so while i'm not as into the league of legends lore, i do have a soft spot for the divorce era versions of jayce and viktor. and man, it makes me cackle watching jayce fumble his way into viktor's good graces lmao. and silco!! is a fucking ally cat and i love him in this fic so much!! and the fact jayce has to play nice with so many people who hates his guts fill me with glee lol. seriously, please read if you love time travel, the divorced era, and seeing jayce suffer. it's a good time XD)

Butterfly Nebulas by MalaMari

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

In a whirlwind, one can have everything, nothing, then everything again. In a single night, a near stranger stood at Jayce's side at both his darkest and brightest moments. Sometimes, the presence of a single person can change everything. Aka: Arcane, but focused on Jayce and Viktor where everyone gets more friends and (maybe) a happier ending.

(first and foremost, this fic is very much friendship based and the banter is absolutely what sold me to this fic. it's just so much fun to read?? and the relationship between caitlyn, jayce, and viktor is so heartwarming and believable in how much they care about each other. and while the plot in itself is slow, you can see how the author is building up the canon divergence brick by brick through every relationship and interaction that occurs. this fic is a slow burn both in the ship and in the plot and i appreciate the time and effort the author is spending to do it. please read this fic, i'm so excited to see where it goes!)

Of Memories and Tomorrows by Lieyantosh

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Instead of dissolving with Viktor like Jayce expected, he gets sent a decade into the past when Viktor didn’t even know him yet. Of course the logical action to take is to kidnap him. Meanwhile Viktor, twenty-two years old, figures that hey, as long as he can research magic, this isn’t too bad of a predicament. Or: Post-Season 2 Jayce and Season 1 Viktor, the grief of having lost your soulmate while having to look at his younger version who doesn’t even know you, the endless exhaustion of being a second-hand love and also science.

(this is hands down my fave fic on this list, no questions asked. just, GOD, jayce is so fucking feral and deranged and insanely in love with viktor, and viktor who doesn't know him from adam just has to Deal with that lmao. but yeah, this fic was both incredibly healing and sad and genuinely unnerving at times because, like i said, jayce is fucking unhinged here lol. i reread this 3 times and i just fell in love with this fic so hard and fast, it's ridiculous. please read, it's so freaking good fnewiofpea)

Men of Progress by Zairielon

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

On a frozen tundra, a mystical figure makes the decision to save Jayce's life. Thus begins a journey of destiny, the indomitable strength of the human soul, and love that transcends death, all bound together by the Arcane. The Mage gives Jayce and Viktor a chance to change their fate. And the two humans push back against the natural order of time. Maybe, just maybe... life is not set in stone. OR, Jayce does not lose their dream. And he will never let Viktor slip through his fingers.

(*YELLS EXCITEDLY* IT UPDATED!! hey, HEY, if you didn't know, you know now. this fic, which didn't update in 2 years, FINALLY UPDATED and finished the fic! truly and sincerely, this was one of my fave fics back when and i fucking YELLED when i saw this got completed. seriously, this is still one of the best arcane time travel stories i ever read! please read!!)

In Loco Parentis by Anonymous

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

The boy blinks a few times, shaking his head before he looks around, his eyes darting from all different parts of the ravine. Viktor instinctively takes a step back when his eyes land on him, grasping his cane even tighter. “Uh hi?” Viktor points his cane at him. “Who-Who are you?” He tries to make his voice sound strong, the way that the men that haggle for money do, but it comes out shaky. “Are you going to hit me with that?” The boy eyes the cane warily. “Maybe.” Viktor juts a chin out. “If you don’t tell me who you are.” “Oh!” The boy brightens. “I’m Jayce! Or: During the rescue with the Mage, Jayce gets transported to the Undercity and meets Viktor instead, and everything spirals from there.

(the fic that started my obsession with zaunite!jayce. i know it's incomplete. do i care? no, no i do not. i reread this obsessively for literal YEARS. also, ALSO, with the context of s2, this fic just fucking hits different now. truly, if there's a fic i want to write fics for, it's this goddamn fic, its HAUNTS me fnioewfewew)(please read, i beg of you!)

If you're gonna be the death of me [that's how I wanna go] by Caspercryptid (FaiaHae)

Ship: Ekko/Jinx

Jinx has loved Ekko over half her life, so she's not shocked when she starts coughing up flowers.

(hey! it's a wild ekko/jinx fic! but yeah, the idea that it's this couple in particular who got hanahaki made me brain spiral like a hamster in a wheel. really love how the author writes jinx and absolutely recommend it!)

the dust inside the rusted souls by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Viktor is dying. This is nothing new. He’s been dying since he was born, since he took his first acrid lungful of Fissure air, and he accepted his premature expiration long ago. Everyone has to die anyways, right? All the Fissure had done was move up the finish line. That doesn’t make it any easier. —— Or, Viktor never tries Shimmer, and his death is the slow, painful erosion that everyone said it would be.

(so fucking angsty with no happy ending, and yet one of the most beautiful fics i've read in a while. and the way the author wrote viktor was so accurate it actually hurt, goddamn. even though it doesn't end happy for viktor, i still believe this fic ended with some hope and i love that. please give this a chance, it's really good!)

scientist and scientist by milkbird

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

“If this Hextech thing doesn't work out,” Jayce drawls, slow and sweet, head still dangling awkwardly from his neck, except now he's facing Viktor. “You know what we should do?” This is a joke Viktor isn't in on. But now he's intrigued, so he draws up his good leg and rests his elbow on it, letting the quiet hum of music wash over him. “What,” he asks, “Should we do, Jayce?” Jayce is holding in a laugh. “Suicide pact.” (Public appearances are boring. Viktor steals Jayce away, and they reflect.)

(this fic screams neurodivergent and i fucking LOVE it! it's so funny and yeah! these two are mad fucking scientists! let them be weird!! it felt real in a way where i definitely have friendships like theirs where i can be weird with someone and they'll say ditto. it just has that vibe and it's so damn good!)(#Jayce is hot and sincere and also weird as hell)(this is literally one of the tags and it's what convinced me to give it a go. i have no regrets!)

destabilise by antiparticular

Ship: Jayce/Viktor

Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember? -- We've all seen the fics where Jayce and Viktor end up in their past bodies post S2 and immediately get down and dirty about it, but what if their trip to the past wasn't as permanent as they expected?

Part 1 of destabilise

(*cackles like a madman* this was so fucking funny and i NEED people to read this. it truly never occured to me that there would be an aftermath of s2 jayce and viktor hopping around through space when there absolutely would be! of course! and it's just as funny as you think it is! if you need a good laugh, please read!)

[The Witcher] (i know, i'm surprised too. why brain, why.)

Songs of War by StarsAreMassive

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Life after Oxenfurt wasn't what Jaskier thought it would be. Dull and uninspired, what is a bard to do? Other than drag a half dead witcher back to his room, thus setting off a chain of events that start a war and and pave the way for a new Warlord in the North. Meanwhile, witchers all over the Continent are pushed to breaking point. Geralt wants to know who this fucking bard is who keeps singing about him. And Letho establishes a venomous hatred for lutes.

(so, i read the warlord fic and became so fascinated by the concept. i truly understand why the premise spawned hundreds of fics now, it's such a fun idea to play with. but this fic made me desperately want more in a way that consumed me. it's an origin story of why geralt became a warlord and honestly? it built up to it so well and with so much humor at first, courtesy to jaskier who goes Through It in this fic lmao. it steadily gets more serious and it made me so eager to know what happens next. please give it a read, it's so well written and is such a believable origin story for the warlord idea.)

Standing in Time with You by Sapphire09

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Cornflower eyes opened to the sight of a dark wooden ceiling full of holes. He noted the holes absently, a familiar sight he equated to his life while still on the road, wondering where he is. The last he remembered was the tall ceiling of his Oxenfurt chamber. He also remembered the pain. Weird, how the afterlife looks like the room of an inn. ------ Jaskier remembers being dead. That doesn't explain why he wakes up looking like he was fresh from the Oxenfurt graduating class instead of the handsome, distinguished professor he actually is. Nothing is making much sense, honestly. He just hopes he's not just going completely crazy first before figuring anything about what the fuck happened, or is happening.

(time travel! it's unfinished but god! it's so good!! this fic both made me laugh so hard and had me feeling so bad for jaskier lmao. god i hope this fic gets updated one day, but even if not, i hope this fic inspires others to write more time travel fics in the witcher fandom. the possibilities are endless!! absolutely recommend!)

Roll for Initiative by Draco_sollicitus

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

En route to game night, a beautiful, mysterious woman falls on Julian Pankratz out of nowhere. She mistakes him for a real bard and then starts talking nonsense about "portals," as if they haven't been outlawed on the Continent for half a millennium. She gifts him magical dice, urging him to "save the White Wolf." Julian, playing Dungeons and Dragons as the fabulous bard Jaskier, rolls a Nat 20 while trying to gain an ally in the murderous Butcher of Blaviken - and is instantly transported to a very strange world similar to the Redania of centuries past. There, he meets the real Butcher, a stoic and sarcastic Witcher named Geralt. Julian also quickly discovers that in this world, he has something that other bards don't: Jaskier the bard really does have magic, and quite a bit of it too - something that both interests and worries Geralt. The Witcher and the bard's quest for answers brings adventure, surprises, heartache, magic, healing -- and maybe a little bit of true love.

(*points vehemently* i've been saying for years that i've wanted to read a witcher fic that involves d&d and it's here! i somehow missed it and it's here!! genuinely had so much fun reading this, jaskier having the same abilities as a d&d bard had me grinning so hard. the possibilities!! also, it's reader interactive! the comment section of the fic was just as much fun to read as the fic, i truly could not predict how the plot would go because depending on the roll of a d20, the plot can go anywhere. love this idea and how well the author executed it! seriously, please give this fic a go! it's a fun time, i promise XD)

The Wanderer's Choice by Little_vesuvius

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Julian has never been normal. He has a talent, a gift that is both debilitating and powerful. He has always heard the songs of everyone, everywhere, he goes. His mind is never quiet. The longer he stays in a place the louder the songs get. With every passing year in a city, he grows sicker, and no healer can help him against the crushing noise of the songs of every living being in Oxenfurt. So when he has the opportunity to travel, he does so as Jaskier the Bard. In Posada, Jaskier finds an angry, silent man brooding in a corner, with a loud enough song to drown out the world's crush of noise. Curious, he follows the man, only to discover he is the infamous Butcher of Blaviken - but a man with such a sad, lonely song surely isn't a monster. Geralt just wants to know why this fool of a bard is following him on hunts and won't leave him alone, even knowing his reputation. It's not like anyone really wants to be around him. The bard will get sick of the novelty soon, surely. Or his temper. Filavandrel just wants his people to be left in peace. Finding an old elvish legend in the form of a human bard is the last thing he expects when he captures a witcher.

Part 1 of Heartsong AU

(i've always loved the jaskier is not human trope, and this fic was so creative?? it has a part 2 too and i'm just really fascinated by how the author explored this power jaskier has in this fic. it's really interesting and i definitely recommend!)

[Star Trek] (another unexpected fandom i haven't looked at in a long time. see a pattern? also, mckirk won me over HARD.)

Hotspur by kurgaya

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

try. verb. 1. to attempt to do or accomplish; 2. to subject to strain, as of endurance, patience, or tax; 3. to determine the truth of (a quarrel or question) by test or battle [Academy Era]. "God forbid you're a Shakespearean wife then," Bones grumbles, and Jim laughs.

(finished this recently and i swear, i felt ALL the emotions, holy shit. this fic is made to break and fix your heart. jim has a service dog due to Tarsus Trauma and it's accurately depicted with respect and empathy. and Bones is depressed, which i do feel like i need to tag as a warning (please read the fic's tags), it got very Real at times. but man, it explores his depression in ways that hit me right in the chest. definitely brought up things i haven't thought about it a long while. but the healing process absolutely made this worth reading, i definitely cried at some parts. also, as an added bonus, it has a fake marriage trope embedded in the premise that brings a lot of hilarity and warmth to it in very interesting ways! please read, it's such a unique, very funny at times, and undeniably compassionate fic that explores trauma and recovery beautifully, with all the ugliness that comes with it.)

AsQ by laughter_now

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

It started out as an ordinary day. So ordinary in fact that it took Jim until late in the afternoon to realize that something was horribly wrong. It was unusual that Bones wasn't in Sickbay during a busy shift, but it wasn't unheard of. What was wrong, absolutely and terrifyingly wrong, was that Bones wasn't even on board. In fact, nobody aboard the Enterprise has ever heard of a Leonard McCoy. There is no record of anyone by that name ever serving in Starfleet. In fact, there is no record of him at all. And that is so wrong that Jim can't even find any words for it.

(is it weird if i say that this is the most enraging and heartbreaking fic i've read for jim kirk? not even tarsus made me this pissed off. jim goes through so so much?? yet the catharsis somehow makes it worth it and i don't have any regrets reading this. not gonna lie, this was hard to read at first, but i literally couldn't stop reading due to the twists and turns this rollercoaster of a fic took me on. seriously, if you want a fic that has mystery, tension, and has you yelling out in triumph, this is absolutely for you.)

Quell the Cosmic Tides by SpocksBrainWorms

Ship: Jim Kirk/Spock

Enterprise is safe to fly another day. All thanks to Captain James T. Kirk's sacrifice. He's made peace with his death, even though it breaks his heart one final time to see the hurt in Spock's eyes. Still, the last thing he gets to see is the face of one of his dearest friends... until his eyes snap back open. Not in a hospital. In a shuttle as it lands at the Academy. “Once you exit the shuttle you are free to return to your dorms. Those of you who are new, you’ll follow me to registration and physicals,” a vaguely familiar-looking officer says, and Jim’s heart stops in his chest. Surprising, considering it shouldn’t be beating at all.

(god, GOD, i'm so so in love with this fic, it's ridiculous! THE time travel fic of this fandom other than lullabyknell's. sincerely, if you haven't read this fic yet, for the love of god, PLEASE do, it's fantastic!!)

When the world comes in by bluejbird

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

Everyone is blessed with a gift, but Jim's isn't as exciting or useful as the rest of his family. His gift is dreaming of his soulmate. As hard as it is to watch his soulmate live without him, the dreams provide comfort during times when Jim would otherwise give up. Or, the one where Jim spends his life dreaming of Bones.

Part 7 of Interconnected

(honestly? you can read any of the other fics in this series, they're all soulmate fics but in different ways and they're all very very good! this just happens to be my favorite in the series XD.)

Not in Our Stars by emluv

Written for a prompt requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer. Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

(a gen fic? on this shippy fic rec list? more likely than you think. but yeah, young mccoy hit me where it hurts and i could just see the more grumpy, cantankerous man he'll become. and yet he's still so endlessly compassionate no matter the age. something that this jim definitely needs. the slow building trust between the two and the sheer competency mccoy shows here made me fall in love with this fic. truly, i should've gotten more into the star trek fandom, there's so many fics out there to be read!)

exclamation (not an explanation) by TheWriter2

Ship: Jim Kirk/Spock

"Just before he makes it to the door, Spock realizes that if he is about to throw Vulcan propriety to the wind and embrace his humanity, then he had better do it properly." Having rejected his admission to the VSA, Spock finds himself with very few options. Still angry at his father and Vulcan, Spock decides to join Starfleet and honor his human heritage. There’s only one problem— the Vulcan High Council has banned Vulcans from joining Starfleet, claiming that the organization is abhorrently militaristic. So Spock decides to defy the odds and find a way to enlist. But the road to a starship is full of many pitfalls, and at every turn Spock risks someone realizing his Vulcan heritage and facing a court martial. To Spock, though, it’s all worth it; especially after he meets a bright young cadet who can take Spock to the stars with only a glance.

(this was the cutest fucking fic i've ever read omg!! spock is so! awkward and adorable and i just want to hug him so bad fnewofepwaf. the idea of spock having to pretend to be human mulan au style is fucking inspired, it's so funny and cute! seriously, if you just want a fic that fires endorphins in your brain, this is absolutely for you!!)

[Crossovers]

Whatever Can Die is Beautiful by UrieNanashi

Fandoms: The Witcher, Elden Ring

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Jaskier is finally free. After so long trapped in a form not his own he had begun to doubt which was his true self. But here he is, unshackled. The betrayals, violence, abandonment- the destruction his family wrought upon themselves and others, all of it left far behind. Jaskier is determined to enjoy this second chance. To bask in the beauty of life and ignore what horrors linger. Then he meets Geralt and things become complicated. ......................................................... “They don’t exist.” “Pardon?” The bard’s brown hair flops as he tilts his head. Geralt bravely doesn’t sigh again. “The monsters in your songs. They don’t exist.” For some reason that gets him a grin, “How do you know?” Geralt stares at him. “I’m a Witcher.” The bard laughs, “So just because you’ve never seen them that means they don’t exist?” “Yes.” Geralt says flatly. “Agree to disagree.” The man says flippantly, “But I would love to hear more about the monsters you’ve fought.” “No.” Geralt takes a drink desperately and finds he is almost at the bottom of his tankard. He contemplates whether it’s worth the coin for another. Probably not.

(truly, you don't really need to know anything about elden ring before reading the fic. i went into it without knowing anything and the fic still resonated with me. this fic feels episodic, with a monster of the week and both characters slowly getting to know each other through their adventures. i love jaskier and how he's depicted here, with all his secrets that he's trying to run from. the ambiance of the fic really seeps into you and pulls you into the story. absolutely recommend and you go into this blind without knowing anything, trust me.)

The Case of Leonard McCoy by AceOfSpades

Fandoms: Doom (2005), Star Trek

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

The first thing Jim noticed about McCoy, and what started him on this whole messy path, was that McCoy was just a little…off.

Part 1 of Investigations

(listen, LISTEN, even if you've never seen Doom, it's legit one of the most suspenseful, cat and mouse mystery fics i've read in ages. seriously, it's so much fun to read, especially when both characters are so intelligent and every move makes sense and creeping ever closer to the truth. even though bones is also a different character, he's still definitely bones, just multilayered. like an onion! and jim is so persistent and perfectly kirk here, no wonder bones fell for him haha! absolutely recommend even if you've never watched doom, though it definitely helps in understanding what's going on on bones' side and adds to reader enjoyment. please read!)

#Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Arcane #jayvik #timebomb #The Witcher #geraskier #Star Trek #mckirk #spirk #Crossovers #Elder Ring #Doom (2005)#Shipping #Ships

28 notes · View notes

rowenabean · 3 days ago

Text

Medieval market

@artanisnerwen and I at arrival to the market. Photo taken by someone we noticed taking a photo of us and asked if she could get one on our phone too. I'm glad I asked, it was the only photo we got of both of us full-length all day!

As previously mentioned, there was a medieval market day within reach of my home yesterday! My sister and I are both sewing and costuming people, so we went off together.

Both our outfits were full coverage, and we brought alternatives to change into if it was too hot, but neither of us did. I definitely was hot and sweaty in it - it was a hot day! - but I felt probably... not hotter than I would with bare skin exposed? I was glad to have something between my shoulders and the heat of the sun, since we were standing in the hot sun all day. Obviously I wore sunnies - and needed them - and I had a hat balanced on top of my bun for a substantial chunk of the day, but the clothing itself was surprisingly not that bad. (Glad I wasn't in wool, though.)

I have... a lot to say about my outfit. One more pretty photo, then it's under the cut.

My outfit was modelled off a c10th Century Viking. There's a lot that's unknown - it's hard for fabric to survive a thousand years or so! - so this is in the nature of a best guess. Going layer by layer, with my thoughts on each one:

Shift

Fabric: cotton/linen plain weave. Linen is historical, cotton had not made it to this part of Europe yet (or for a few more centuries!). However, it has much the handle of a pure linen, and for a shift I thought was a reasonable dupe.

Dye: with sorrel root: plausible but not attested in period. The shift probably wouldn't be dyed, but it wouldn't be a modern bright-white as the fabric started, and also I had already stained it by the time I finished sewing it (I should not be allowed around white fabrics!)

Construction: no one argues about this so I didn't delve into any primary sources. It's constructed as 2 rectangles with gores at the side seams and sleeves added, which appears to be what everyone on the internet is doing, exact historicity is beyond me. I sewed it with french seams (attested ~1-2 centuries after the period I was reconstructing, although no reason to think they DIDN'T use them earlier as not that many textile fragments survive) with a machine and modern polyester thread, but handstitched my neckline and hems - the main reason I french seamed rather than felled the seams was that I couldn't be bothered hand sewing that much (slash didn't have time in the week between starting to make my outfit and the fair)

Smokkr/aprondress

(Aprondress is a common modern name, smokkr is a hypothesised traditional name for this, I prefer the latter personally)

Fabric: 100% linen plain weavee. While this is a fabric that was known in period, it was likely not used for this garment, which was usually and possibly always made of wool. The shoulder straps were generally made of linen, but they would have been undyed (and probably loops, rather than the straps I did. This was the only choice I made solely because I want to make it more wearable in the modern era, although it also saved me precious sewing time the night before). I like to think that if a Viking was making a dress for an NZ summer she might consider using linen for it, though.

Dye: onion skins, small amount of yarrow exhaust thrown in. This is historically plausible but not attested. We know they used bright colours, but we don't know if they specifically used onion to achieve them.

Construction: I'm calling this a best guess. There are no surviving smokkr, and no paintings that obviously show one. They're mainly attested in the tortoise brooches which hold them up, which are widespread in graves across Viking Europe across multiple centuries. A couple of finds suggest that it was probably at least sometimes fitted and at least sometimes (but probably NOT always/everywhere) pleated. Personally, I think it is likely that it was a standard garment that altered in form somewhat across the centuries. I chose this reconstruction both because it's plausibly historic but also because I thought it would be wearable without a shift as a modern dress, which it is and I actually love it enough to consider making another! Also sewn with french seams and all visible stitching is hand-sewn.

(After my swim, as a modern dress)

Accessories

Trim: wool (accurate) fingerloop braid (accurate) contrast is modern dyed yarn (inaccurate). This is an interim trim until I a) get better at fingerloop braiding (this is VERY much the nice bit, the other end of it is a bit average) and b) natural dye some 4-ply to use for the purpose

Brooches: I started the day with some earrings that had roughly the right vibe, but a lady at the fair was selling pot metal reconstructions which are much more accurate. Interestingly, she didn't seem to know what they were for - she was selling them as individuals not pairs, and when I put them on my dress said "oh that's pretty!" as if it wasn't, like, the one thing they are designed for...

Beads: just a random string from an op shop, very inaccurate

Hair: a conundrum and a half. There are caps attested in the British Isles for viking women, but not in Scandinavia. There are probably veils in Christian Scandinavia, but much fewer smokkr, so it's not super likely someone would have worn both. I went with a braided bun, after some sculptures of valkyrie/goddesses, but who knows whether this is actually what they wore or not. Next year I'm wearing a veil anyway, my neck got sunburnt.

The market itself was a fun day; it was heavier on the market than on the medieval, but there were a few genuinely medieval costumes and stalls around, and some lovely people. Highlights were the family with crossbows, ordinary bows and a Roman Scorpion to try out, as well as weaponry for sale. We had a chat earlier in the day, but decided to come back to try out the bows as they had quite a wait - when we came back we discovered that we were out of cash! They didn't have any other forms of payment but let us each have a go anyway because "you're friends". (I choose to believe it was the historical costumes as well as the chat that labelled us as friends!)

The other highlight was a lady with a hurdy-gurdy (and her friend with a recorder - I had also brought mine as a medieval prop!) who had just stopped playing and was very cooperative with our many questions about just how it works and even volunteered information that I didn't know to ask! (Situations where you can say "my other instrument is the harp" and be the more normal one)

#rowena adventures #fun day! this was a lot of words though #but if you want to know about my historical costuming adventures: here it all is!

31 notes · View notes

the-bear-and-his-sunbird · 2 days ago

Text

Last week I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter but I was too busy posting for thedasweekend and finish the first chapter of "The scared boy and lonely girl" (which is a part of the "beetle on the lilac" series)

I am far too late but I'll tag @dymme, @ollypopwrites and everyone who wants to join.

Have a (bigger) snippet of the second chapter now, which is mostly Emmrich remembering Siobhan and his shared past. This snippet focuses on the time where she is lost in the Fade.

Time and time again he ventured to her hiding spots, as if he was a broken puppet. Filled with the faintest of hopes to find her curled up fast asleep somewhere, like he did so many times before.

And he would have waked her in the softest way- or better yet laid down with her, just to hold her tight, telling her a story about his younger days, about a boy afraid of being alone. And she would have brought the warmth back to him, surely and steadily until every dread he felt was nothing more than a faint dream; already fading in the golden light of early mornings.

But she never appeared and his mouth tasted of unspoken words and regrets.

(...)

What a fool he had been.

Would they ask him to corpse whisper her, to ask the questions that needed to be ask? How do you wish your remains to be dealt with? A sentence that has become second nature as a Watcher. Would she answer him? Would she accuse him of letting her die or worse: would she forgive him and ask him to move on? Would he even dare to rip her back for questioning or be too afraid to do it, like he was with his parents?

New questions that tortured him at night.

__________________________________________________________

The first week he did not dare to venture into her room. What good would it have done anyway? Siobhan hated it with an unparalleled fierceness.

„Too much of Solas looms there,“ she said. „The only good thing are the fish.“

It was a shame that even a room to withdraw to seemed to be denied for her.

But after a very long and very tiring week, the lighthouse being too silent without Siobhan and Bellara to discuss theories in the library, without Harding ushering everyone to Bookclub, eyes gleaming with joy when there was a violent part, he caved. What if there was a hint, an answer in her room. If none of that, at least her smell would bring the smallest comfort, as if she was here with him as if she hadn‘t left at all.

Emmrich steeled himself before entering Siobhans room. How would her room look? Would it have changed, be warped entirely by the Lighthouse to mirror her absence?

But it wasn‘t. As he entered slowly, his footsteps echoing across the walls, Emmrich took the room in.

It smelled like her. Warm, spicy, earthy and with a floral note at the end of it.

"Smell like the flowers and the earth and you may catch some beetles." she had said when he asked her.

Maps were stacked on the various drawers in her room. Ink and quills roaming next to them, ready to put plans to paper, to make sense of the labyrinth in front of them.

The blanket the group gifted to her lay next to the couch. Emmrich touched it gently. It was soft and purple and it reminded him so much of all the times she sat before him, the fabric wrapped around her shoulders, drinking tea and telling stories. A small part of him protested when he picked it up and pushed his face inside its folds. He felt so very small again.

In front of the green monstrosity that was meant to be slept on sat the table with the unlit candles, giving a place to write down any thoughts, as one stared into the turquoise abyss behind the glass.

Something white caught his eye. A piece of paper placed neatly on the table, with his name on it.

His heart, which had calmed somewhat in the familiarity of it all, started racing again, making his hands shake both with fear and longing. Emmrich sat down on the couch and unfolded the letter with Siobhans handwriting.

"Dearest, Emmrich, Love of mine,

If you find this, I am dead. Forgive me for leaving you, before being able to make amends.

You seemed so afraid earlier, my love. I fear everything I could say to you know would make it worse but I will try my best to ease your pain.

My dear Emmrich, I never would hold it against you, but I fear you will so please know: I forgive you for what you said. No buts. No ifs. I forgive you.

I know what you said comes from a place of fear and worry, even when you have hurt me. I wish to apologize for my words too. I never wanted to hurt you and I shouldn‘t have let my anxieties get the better of me. You are always a comfort in the most dreary moments. The blanket that shields me from the horrors and keeps me warm. My guiding star.

I am writing this at Bellara’s place (again forgive me for not coming to you). I didn‘t know if you needed to be alone or craved company but I could not bear the silence of my room. The silence disgusting when you are not around to share it with me.

Bellara worries about you, you know? About me, too. She is entrusted with informing you about the letter if I do not make it. Take care of her when I am gone, will you? She needs her friends. As do you. If I can‘t be with you, I take comfort in knowing you still have Manfred and the others looking out for you.

Could you do me a small favor? Can you tell Vorgoth that he was the best caretaker I could have wished for? He needs to know. I haven‘t told him that in years and I was rather ungrateful as a child. Maybe you could send Myrna and Cerise my goodbye too? They are wonderful and shaped me in ways I never could have anticipated.

May I also ask for a second favor?

Live.

Fight the gods for me. Show Manfred all the marvels of the world, show him the wisps at the lovers graves. He will like them and they will tell him a few stories about- anything really. Tell them who sent you, maybe they will remember me. Who knows what they will whisper to him. Maybe light a candle for me there and remember all the good times we had, too.

You should also make new friends. You thrive when people are around.

Even if it paints me to say so: If you wish to fall in love again, dearest, please do. I only ever wished for you to not be lonely and I promised your parents I wouldn‘t let you. I am sorry, that I failed.

Do not fret. I will always love you, in this life and beyond.

And when your end comes in so many years (because you will get ancient, I feel it deep within me) I will await you on the other side.

If you still wish for me by then, as I selfishly hope, I will be:

- Eternally yours,

Siobhan"

He cried for hours after reading it, missing her with an intensity that tore right through his core. How could he ever love another when she had taken his heart with her when she left.

When he found the strength to move again, he steadied his hands and folded the letter neatly, before carefully stowing it away in his pocket.

„You are not dead, my dear,“ He whispered to himself, cradling her blanket as if it was the most fragile and precious thing in this world and carried to his room; where it belonged.

„I will find you. No matter how long I have to search.“

#emmrook #Emmrich volkarin #Da:tv spoilers #emmrich x rook #Siobhan Ingellvar #wip wednesday #well sort of #wip monday #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #da:tv spoilers #dragon age

23 notes · View notes