#and had been getting very frustrated about that; which made them very tired and equally frustrated because a cranky baby is nobody's friend

[edenfalling]

#I don’t actually bc my parents say i gained and lost words regularly for a period of months before i started remembering them and using them #consistently. however my sister had a real first word and I sometimes think my parents just cared less by the time i came around and #didn’t pay as much attention ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (via @wordsforrain)

They were paying attention! You legit didn't have a proper "first word" -- your babbling kind of asymptotically approached English over several months and it really was impossible to say when you properly "had" a word.

I think you had the concept of SPEECH down more than the concept of WORDS, so there was like. A sort of grammar to the sounds you strung together? Which often got your general intent across? But when that shifted from gibberish with occasional probably-a-word sounds to mostly words with occasional gibberish? Heck if I know.

Source: me. I was your babble-to-English translator for a few months there.

Do you know what your first word was?

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Attempting To Analyze Luka And Till To Try And Figure Out How Round Seven Will Go

LUKA:

From what we've seen of him, while he knows how to manipulate people's emotions, doesn't quite know how to understand them and process them. We see this as far back from when he was a kid, when he and Hyuna's brother would get into fights, and he would use his frailty as an excuse to go running to Hyuna for her to defend him; it's an excuse to get her attention, to get her to side with him against her brother. This probably made him feel good, like she placed him above her brother, even if it was momentarily.

However, this strategy came crashing down when he went too far, when he killed her brother. Perhaps this was an accident, just him being too frustrated that day, him going to far, and he didn't realize it till too late. Even so, it was fine, he just needed to present himself as the victim to Hyuna like he usually did. What he didn't anticipate, was Hyuna's complete horror and rejection of him.

Now, we don't know when exactly Hyuna ran away and went rouge, but it couldn't have been right away; also, if we're going on what we saw that one time with Hyuna still having cuffs when she was an adult, then it wouldn't be till many years later. The aliens wouldn't have put Hyuna in a different group or anything; even if she did somehow try and plead a case that she was worried for her safety or something, they'd take one look at little prized Luka and be like 'nah he's harmless; that stunt with your brother was in self defense', basically not caring at all about Hyun Woo dying at all; he wasn't as profitable as Luka. It helps that Luka is so sickly; it helps with him getting out of any actual punishment on the rare occasion he slips up. And so, in the aftermath, Hyuna and Luka still had to interact with each other everyday for the remainder of their training in childhood.

Now, to backtrack, for Luka's backstory, this is more speculation than anything. But from what I can tell, he's always had a camera in his face, some sort of eyes on him looking for media entertainment. Even before he's been properly trained, we saw that small scene of him as a child with a bunch of aliens crowding him, eyes on him, and him just looking so tired from it. I'm assuming that he was either breed and born for being a singer, or he was clocked at a very early age. Either way, he started getting media attention from before he was even put into training with others. It's in this, that Luka formed his understanding of interactions; it's performative, doing whatever the aliens want out of him for their entertainment, he learns that he needs to do certain things in order to get a positive reaction out of the aliens. It's what he needs to do to survive, all he's been trained to do really. From this all he knows about socializing is how to get an emotional response out of someone, a completely hollowed understanding of how emotions work.

And then he was put into training with other humans, which is likely the first time he's actually put with other humans. He's ostracized; he's seen as sort of 'other', since he's leagues ahead of the other humans who've barely started properly learning and he's been trained for this since forever. Also, the other humans likely have been around other humans before, meanwhile we have Luka over here who as none of the common social ques that humans have. Basically; he's never been treated like an equal before, he only knows the dehumanization dynamic from aliens, who just want him to perform. But with his group, their not asking him to perform, so he essentially ignores them, thinking that's all an interaction is. That's when Hyuna comes in; she feels like the sort of person to see how Luka is put on the outside of the group for being strange, and doggedly tries to become friends with him, despite his initial disinterest. It's through this, that Luka forms an obsession with Hyuna, his first friend, the first living being that doesn't demand anything from him. He can relax around her, do weird shit like chew on his sleeve if he feels like it and she doesn't mind, doesn't have to mask a response. He actually has positive feelings himself when he's around Hyuna, something he's not really used to. But despite this, Luka still has a dysfunctional idea of how emotions are, and really likes Hyuna, so he wants to get a positive out of her, so he still tries to do things he knows will get that out of her, like that thing with her brother.

Now, back to Hyuna now being horrified of Luka, he really doesn't know what to do with this. He tries to fix it, do every trick he knows to get a positive response from her, try to get her forgiveness, but nothing was working, and he doesn't understand why, and he's getting increasingly and dangerously frustrated. Luka is not use to getting a negative response, and I think it's through this that he really learns what that's like. So, I think to ward off his frustration, he tests getting negative responses from his fellow humans, particularly his opponents. It's through this, that he finds out how useful that can be, a more secure way to survive. As the years go by, Luka gets all the better at manipulating others emotions, and it's through this that he understands why Hyuna still won't forgive him, despite his understanding of these emotions being very clinical. Because of this, he knows how to try and better manipulate Hyuna into forgiving him, so much so that it actually starts messing with Hyuna's head. She emotionally begins to be swayed into forgiving him, but rationally she doesn't want to, and it gives her a whole complex of what she knows what she wants to feel versus what Luka is manipulating her to feel. But she ends up running away from the aliens before Luka could completely manipulate her.

When she runs away, Luka falls into a spiraling depression. The one person he's ever loved is gone, the one person who made him feel anything. From this, he dives into his work, trying to glean any sort of joy from manipulating negative responses from his competitor's to make them mess up, turning it into a sort of game at this point. It becomes his only defense against the constant eyes on him from the aliens, the constant and disgustingly dehumanizing attention that has choked him ever since he could remember. Luka folds further and further into himself, burying whatever sliver of humanity he felt with Hyuna. However, he follows very closely the revolution movement that's happening, knowing for a fact Hyuna would join (or start?) the group. The aliens likely have covered up this revolution, especially from the humans so they won't get any ideas, but with Luka being Luka, he likely has the influence to get some insider information whenever he can, causally eavesdropping on important alien figures talking about it while he sings for them. Whatever the case, no matter how much time has passed, Hyuna haunts him just as much as he haunts Hyuna. And even after all this time, he still doesn't hold the proper remorse of murdering her brother or trying to manipulate her into forgiving him, just regretting the results.

TILL:

From what I can try to glean from Till's past, it's littered in violence from the aliens. I can see there being a sort of cycle with Till; he does something that his alien owners lightly punish him for, which puts him on the defense and gets violent, which in turn makes the alien's get violent and try to restrain, which makes Till get even more violent, and so on. The aliens viewed him as sort of this feral dog, completely untrainable, moving him from home to home, shelter to shelter. They try all their methods they have to make him 'submit', but each and every time he simply refuses.

I sort of have this theory that Till didn't start out as someone with an owner, or someone who was even regulated by an alien in a adoption facility or something; he used to live on the streets, completely unmanaged, which is very rare for humans. Maybe he even had other stray humans he hung around, or maybe he managed on his own. Either way, eventually he gets captured by the aliens, and maybe his fellow stray humans get captured and broken down or killed in this. The aliens try to integrate Till into their human pet system, but he's just not having it. He wasn't trained by aliens since birth to act a certain way, which would explain his intense resistance towards them. He sees the situation for what it is, how humans being put in such a degrading and dehumanizing dynamic is wrong, and it makes him angry to be expected to put up with it. It makes him especially angry that his fellow humans expect him to go along with this dehumanization, just to keep the waters calm. Because even the humans that have sort of realized that this is wrong, were still trained under this system, and has just accepted that they need to live with it, and Till won't. They all act like he's crazy, aliens and humans alike, but Till refuses to give in.

Whatever the case, Till proves to show constant resilience, something that probably was having him set up to be on track for being 'put down', having no worth as a 'pet'. Till knew this, but it just made him push even harder, fight back harder. We see in a few flashes of Till be experimented on with syringes; possibly in an effort to make him calmer. This was probably something that happened before and after he became a singer. Even then, physically and biologically abused, he refuses to go along with this system, to try and hold on to any sense of autonomy he has even as they try to restrain and degrade it. And all this fighting does take a toll on Till; we see it in the heavy bags under his eyes, but even so, he keeps going. You know, unironically, I think Till is the embodiment of the term "the indomitable human spirit"; he just absolutely refuses to be cowed for the sake of an easier survival.

I think what kept him from being 'put down' was when it was discovered he had a talent for singing. I don't know how this was discovered; maybe Till was just bored and entertaining himself with singing or strumming a guitar, or maybe they had him tested for a talent before the decided to kill him just in case he had any sort of monetary worth. Once they figured out he had a talent, he was shipped off to be the Anact Garden's problem.

Now, Till, at his core, is an extremely protective person; it's actually kind of insane. Once he decides something is 'his', he tightly holds onto and protects it with everything he has. We see this time and time again; deciding to be the sole protector of the flowers and encouraging them to grow, literally beating someone up if they stepped on them. Following Mizi around just in case she would need help, and one day she did, and she didn't hesitate to run into that cave and fight off whatever monster she had stumbled upon, literally just some child squaring up against some mutated beast (or possibly striking a deal with it? we didn't see the whole thing. either way whatever he did must have been a huge deal because it literally changed Ivan's life). He doesn't even care if Mizi loves Sua and that she'll never love him; he just wants her to be safe and happy. And in defending Ivan as well, cause he was a weird kid, and I know Till would go from snarling at Ivan to snarling at another kid who's making fun of Ivan. And that's why he fights so hard for his own rights and autonomy as well, because he's protective of his own sense of self, refusing to let go of it. His protective instincts are his main motivation for basically all of his actions, all of his supposed feral behavior.

It's probably this that trait that drew Ivan to Till in the first place; his and Till's first interaction was Till beating him up over some flowers. It kind of looked like Ivan felt alive for possibly the first time in his life during that fight. I bet afterwards, if Ivan were to question Till on it, Till wouldn't even understand the point of the question; like of course he would defend the flowers till his last dying breath? Duh? Don't be a dick? Ivan probably followed Till around all the time, but I imagine the reason Till didn't form as close a connection to Ivan was because Till sees Ivan as just another source of violence in his life he needs to fight against. It's why he probably developed such a crush on Mizi; Till is drawn to kindness more than anything, to softness. It's why he forms a connection to the flowers, to Mizi. He can't see the kindness in Ivan, not till it's too late.

It's probably those protective instincts that made him turn back when Ivan was trying to get him to run away; of course he wanted to run away. But then he thought of Mizi, left unprotected. And then he considered Ivan, who upon running away, would also be left unprotected out in the world. His need to protect was being torn at, and in the end, he chose Mizi, leaving Ivan to fend for himself. What he didn't expect, was to see that Ivan came back too. That's when Till truly stopped seeing Ivan; his guilt didn't allow him to. He feels like he abandoned him, thrown him aside what he feels he needs to protect, forced him to come back to the facility, and now Till can't look him in the eye.

Honestly, I think it's these protective instincts that serve in his break down after Mizi left. He feels like he failed in protecting her, and not only that, he feels like there's nothing left for him to protect. He'd already thrown away the idea of protecting himself when he was entered into this competition, only motivated to protect himself to get far enough to go against Mizi in the final round, in which he was going to throw the round so that she could live. He completely threw away any protective instinct for his own survival, having accepted that at the beginning of this competition, because those he loves will always come first, and he and Mizi both couldn't survive, so really it was a no brainer for him. But now Mizi is gone, and he doesn't know how to get that desire to protect himself back, can't find the motivation for it. And so, going up against Ivan, all of the years of constantly fighting are just coming to get him, and he's just so tired. With nothing left, he was just going to throw the match. And then Ivan comes up and starts kissing him, which catches Till completely off guard. But then Ivan starts choking him before Till could process what that meant, and this made a lot more sense to him. Ivan killing him on stage lines up with everything he thinks Ivan to be; just another source of violence, and he's going to let him. But then he realizes what's actually going on, and it all clicks into place for him; Ivan loved him. Ivan had a whole inner world Till never knew because he decided to look away. And Ivan was something Till still had left to protect, but now he was gone. And all he has left to protect is the sacrifice Ivan left behind; himself.

TOGETHER:

It's unlikely these two have ever really met before; they were in different age groups when they were being trained as kids, and given their extremely different vibes it's unlikely they'd be asked to perform together or even be asked for from the same clients. So this competition is likely the first time they've met. Having never really met, what they currently think of each other is Till thinking Luka "is a dick who messed with Mizi and kisses up to the audience", and Luka thinks of Till as "an idiot who will go unhinged at the drop of a hat and has no sense of his own self preservation".

Till finds the motivation to want to survive, for Ivan's sake. He wants to protect Ivan's cause for dying, almost like he wants to make up for not properly seeing him over the years, for tossing him aside and not protecting him. Bro's got a whole complex he'll work on for the rest of his life, but right now it's really motivating him to win, so at least there's that.

It would be really easy for Luka get a negative reaction out of Till; he's very reactive to things. But I think Luka will fail in getting the right kind of reactions out of Till. Typically, when he backs his competitors into a corner, they feel too much turmoil to properly sing. But that's the thing with Till; he's reactive. If Luka pushes him physiologically, his response won't be to shut down, it'll probably motivate him to sing even better, try to sing over Luka out of spite. So Luka's best bet is to try and provoke Till into violence, and it'll prove a challenge for Till who probably already hates this guy for giving Mizi a breakdown. I bet for the entire round Till will have to try so hard not to beat this guy up, to push all his aggressive energy into the performance, but it's so clear how much he just wants to murder this man, leaving the crowd and the guards on pins and needles.

Till's normal style of competing seems to be singing over his opponents, making sure they have absolutely no time to collect themselves. It's kind of funny, how both Till and Luka's strategy is just to make the other one look worse. But Luka has a lot of experience with making the crowd like him, so he throws tricks at Till he wouldn't be expecting, somehow blending the performances perfectly. But Till has never been one to stick to the script, so I can imagine him just playing a wildly different tune, trying to force Luka to change lanes again and again, seeing if he can keep up. In the end, this isn't a performance; it's a fight, a tug of war for the spotlight.

On another point, I wonder if Till will accidently remind Luka of Hyuna; she was obviously a rebel herself, given her whole thing of going to go join a revolution, so I wonder if at some point in the performance Luka will see a bit of Hyuna in Till, and it'll cause some faulter. It's kind of funny; Luka will on purpose psychologically torment Till with those that he lost, and Till will accidently psychologically torment Luka with the one that he lost.

Really, them competing with each other is sort of like a round of chicken, seeing who will crack first. But of course, all this could be for naught when we thrown in these two uncontrollable elements; Hyuna and Mizi. They're here, at the facility, and they're in trouble. This is something both of them will deeply care about, and it's unclear how it'll factor in. I wonder, if at some point during the performance the two of them will realize Hyuna and Mizi's situation, and give each other a look, like they're saying to each other "okay fuck you and all but we've got to help them", and then their battle turns into a weird sort of temporary alliance. Maybe they try to distract the aliens with their performance or start actually fighting. Maybe they do some sort of weird complicated dance move that's made to break the power and to make it easier for Hyuna and Mizi to get away. Maybe they just say 'fuck it' and run off the stage together, going to help the other two and have them all escape. Either way, I think the ending of their performance won't have anything to do with the two of them at all, but rather another. And I suppose it's fitting for the two of them, whose current sense of identity is tied so closely to other people, rather than themselves.

[biggerbearficrecs]

November 2024 Fic Recs

A list of what I've read/am reading this month. It's going to be a short one unfortunately because I haven't had much time but hopefully next month will be a little longer.

All recs underneath the cut:

Rough Around the Edges by @lila-lou (Jack Durfy x Reader)

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Teaser:

Jack groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand across his face. Just great. As if the week hadn’t been exhausting enough, now he had to imagine his weekend being a noisy mess thanks to whoever was moving in. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Instead, it seemed like his weekend would be filled with endless bangs and thuds coming from across the hall.

Another loud thud echoed through the hallway, followed by a soft “Ouchy” that made him roll his eyes. He could already picture some clueless person fumbling around with boxes, knocking stuff over, and generally making a racket. The kind of person who probably had no idea how to move without turning it into a circus.

Jack shifted the bucket of wings under his arm, debating whether or not to knock on the door. Part of him wanted to just ignore it, retreat into his apartment, and hope for the best. But the other part, the more frustrated part, was tempted to knock and tell them to keep it down. He’d had a long week, and he deserved a break, damn it.

Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, raising his fist to knock.

Just then, the door swung open unexpectedly, and there you were, looking frazzled and clearly unprepared for company. You were wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top, your skin glistening slightly from the heat. Your hair, a messy bun on top of your head, looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry, and you had no makeup on, not that you needed it.

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, staring at the younger woman standing in front of him.

You, on the other hand, were equally surprised to see the man standing in front of you. He had to be at least double your age, but damn, he was handsome—broad-shouldered, his shirt sticking to his body in places from what looked like a long day of work, and those tired, slightly irritated eyes that made him seem like someone who didn’t put up with much nonsense.

“Uh… hi”, you blurted, your voice a little breathless from all the moving. You glanced down at the two boxes sitting in front of your door, which you had come out to grab. “Sorry about the noise. I swear, I’m almost done”.

Jack let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I was kind of wondering if you were trying to tear the place down before you even moved in”.

You laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound, running a hand over your face. “Feels like it. I’m not exactly an expert at this moving thing. Been here all day, and I’m pretty sure I’ve destroyed more stuff than I’ve unpacked”.

Jack’s eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of your casual shorts and tank top, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. His gaze wasn’t lewd, but it was unmistakably assessing, like he was trying to figure you out.

Get Stuffed by @zepskies (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

Teaser:

“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.

This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.

He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…

“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.

You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he’s seated.

“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”

He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.

“Ohoho, yeah.”

You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.

You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.

“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.

“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.

The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.

“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”

He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk.

Spicy Things by @homicidal-slvt (Russell Shaw x Reader)

Summary: Russell likes your spicy attitude.

Teaser:

You're watching this man drizzle sriracha all over his fries like some sort of hot sauce goblin. Why in the hell did you agree to go out with him? You'll never know.... Somehow that goofy smile of his charmed you into it.

"Russ.... Do you always eat like this?"

"Possibly."

With an exaggerated eye roll you take another bite of your burger.

"What can I say... I like things a little spicy."

With a wink thrown your way - you nearly choke. That was cheesy. Awful. Stupid... God damn it, you've got it bad.

Under the Montana Skies by @spnbaby-67 (Beau Arlen x Reader)

Teaser:

The air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine as you stood outside Beau Arlen's trailer in the heart of Montana. You and Beau had been friends for years, but lately, something had shifted between you two. The tension in the air was palpable, and tonight, under the starry Montana sky, it was finally time to address it.

Beau, with his rugged charm and flannel shirt, looked at you with those piercing green eyes. "You know, darlin', I've been wantin' to do this for a long time," he said, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers down your spine.

No One Will Notice by @deanwanddamons (Demon!Dean x Reader)

Summary: Y/N hopes that she sees the mysterious Dean again.

Teaser:

He had returned. 

You smirked as your gaze met the emerald green eyes you would never forget. 

Dean sauntered across the room towards you, his confidence oozing out of him in waves as he expertly navigated the patrons and tables that were in his way. He avoided them with ease, even though his intense stare never left your face. 

When he reached the edge of the raised platform you were performing on, he dropped down onto a bar stool, still not averting his eyes from yours as you stepped forward until your stilettos were directly in line with his broad shoulders. His arrogance was obvious for all to see when, without taking any notice of the fact numerous other men were vying for your attention by waving dollars at you, he reached into his pocket and produced a wad of cash, throwing it down onto the surface in front of him. 

“Go ahead. Pick it up,” he mouthed, popping the P.

A wide grin pulled at your lips as you crouched down before him, balancing precariously on your high heels, your inner thighs, and clothed mound level with his freckled face as one large hand wrapped around your hip, jerking you towards him which almost toppled you over. This action forced you to sit and scoot forward, your ass hitting the edge of the stage. Pushing his chair back, he tugged you down onto his lap, totally oblivious to or seemingly not caring about the ‘no touching’ rule the bar had in place, his calloused palm roaming over your hot skin. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Remember me?” He questioned. 

“How could I forget?” You whispered, your noses touching, lips only an inch apart.

Rightfully Deceived by @jessjad (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Teaser:

The man she was about to marry was Dean Winchester, Earl of the Winchester Clan. Rich, a lot of money to his name. Famous for his stubborn and unyielding business acumen. And devilishly good looking. Tall, broad shoulders, a voice as deep as the ocean and eyes as green as a sea of jades.

Yeah, Y/N has been in love with him since the first time she had seen him. But unfortunatly to her, he only seemed to have eyes for her younger sister, Helena.

The first time Dean visited her fathers castle, Y/N had welcomed him in and offered food and drinks. With a warm smile that made her heart flutter he accepted it. Her father appeared only minutes later and the men started a friendly conversation, resulting in Dean offering her father that he could always ask for help if needed. Since Dean had bought the land next to theirs it was the right thing to do. Not knowing then that five years later, her father would take him up on that offer.

Just when Dean was about to leave again, Helena had come in from the outside. Some hay in her hair and on her dress, indicating that she came fresh from the staples. And that was the moment Y/N saw it. The change in Dean's face. His eyes had widened a little, his mouth a little slack. Helena had smiled at him and all of a sudden he was lost for words.

That's when Y/N's heart sank to the ground. From then on it seemed as if she became invisible.

Stay by @bullet-prooflove (Colter Shaw x Reader)

Summary: Colter can never ask for you to stay.

Teaser:

It’s been three months since Colter last had his hands on you, since he made love to you in the Airstream, the sound of rain pattering on the roof. He remembers falling asleep tangled up in you, his fingers combing lightly through your hair, his heart thundering against yours.

He also remembers waking up alone, his hand smoothing over the vacant space as he sighed because he’d always been the one that left and he hadn’t realised just how bad that felt until it happened to him.

It’s over coffee that morning that he sits, watching the droplets cascade down the windows and thinks about why it’s different with you.

That's all I've been able to get through so far! Please forgive my graphics btw. Not so great with those but I wanted to put a little visual with each one.

I haven't figured out yet if I'm going to post at the beginning of each month or mid-month. I'm still trying to figure that all out, but please definitely follow this blog and set notifications for those postings if you would like to see each list when they post. All review reblogs of these works will also be posted here moving forward.

Oh, and before I forget...

Thank you!!! 💕💕

all dividers by @saradika-graphics

[7nsomnia]

can i ask, what’s wrong with dcc? i always hear that they kinda suck as a company, but from the vlogs i’ve seen, they’re one of the better companies. i’m not really as into dreamcatcher as some of the blogs on here even though i consider myself a stan, so i might not have the right information

okay. I feel like this is like opening my personal pandora box so this might be long. I'm pretty tired today so apologies in advance if this isn't very coherent asdkjh

dcc are a pretty decent company on a surface level, they treat the members well (which should be like the bare minimum for any company but I know that in this industry that's something to genuinely praise) and they actually change according/respond to negative feedback from the fandom etc when they or the members mess up (or they used to anyway).

for me it started in 2020 and how they handled handong's return. like the way they handled her absence was fine (good even, I would say), but the lack of hype for her actual return made things feel so underwhelming even though it was supposed to feel like a relief that she was finally back. I can't remember all the details anymore, but I do remember that the first time I felt like things were actually alright with dc was when they did the online concert crossroads in march of 2021. on that note I think most ppl were expecting ttol and dlm to be repackaged with ot7 versions and yet it's 2024 and they still haven't released them.

the handong stuff atp is water under the bridge tho, the group is fine, the members are fine, etc, I'm only mentioning it because that's when things started to feel really off for me.

so now we get into the actual things that happened that have left the fandom feeling burned out/frustrated/disconnected etc etc, whereas this happened to me at the end of 2022, I'm seeing more people now going through what I did back then:

I think the most pressing thing was that dcc didn't capitalize at all on dc's first win. they got their first win in april 2022 and didn't even do anything special in korea to commemorate it. it was a HUGE moment and they did nothing with it. usually after a group gets a first win you'll see them getting more promotions in korea, magazine photoshoots, mc deals, etc but dc just went on ahead to do festivals in europe and have a usa tour, these things are not bad but it was the lack of promotion in korea that in turn just made it all feel useless. that year dc also weren't invited to any end of year awards if I'm not mistaken so it all felt really disappointing and like all of the work we had as a fandom had been for nothing. I have to reiterate, dc/insomnias had been getting screwed over on music shows since 2019 with deja vu to get that first win, like I don't want to talk about the injustices the group and this fandom suffered through the years but it was a true story of resilience, so getting that first win in 2022 was a huge relief. to see it all going to waste was just... heartbreaking honestly.

when it comes to tours...... god I don't wanna get too much into it, but 4 tours in the usa in the span of 2 years is not normal. specially when they're prioritizing that over having a proper asia tour and the likes (AND promoting in korea??). latam tour is practically sold out rn and they're getting no merch or m&g benefits like the usa tour. I don't think doing exclusive things for a specific tour is bad per say, but you have to treat all your fans semi equally at least, specially for a group whose fanbase is majorly international (this will be important later), or it will happen what is happening rn which is ppl will leave the fandom. This is the first latam tour since 2019 (2017 for brazil!)... they've waited a really long time so personally (even tho this doesn't affect me bc I'm european) I feel like it's really disrespectful but wtv, onto other things.

now, speaking of the fanbase being majorly international, if this is the case, you'd think the company would make an effort to stream important events to their fans, like hmm the 7th anniversary concert perhaps? but nop, that didn't get streamed. a repetition of the dumbassery they did in 2022 where they split the concert and the members' solos in 2 days and only streamed one and so intl fans couldn't watch half the solo stages? and don't get me wrong, I think it's important that they have events that are korea only like they have the fansigns etc, but something as major as their 7th anniversary? when they've gotten here thanks to their international fans? that stings a little.

and lastly (maybe), we have dcc's usual lack of promotion during comebacks. fans always paying for ads, intl fans always doing the most for digitals even when it's Not their place (because this is smth that the korean fandom and dcc should be responsible for), fans having to reach out for vendors etc... Justice cb truly has been the culmination of the very worst promotions dcc has done tho and there have been some really bad promotions before... no radio shows, minimum interviews, barely any variety... were there even any ads? usually it's always fans paying out of pocket for ads. it just feels like throwing the members' and the company's work out the window for no good reason? Virtuous is one of their best albums and yet it feels like they just dumped it to go on tour again. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing btw, having short promotions in korea is fine but like... promote for real? give your fandom content that they can watch and rewatch for however long it takes your group to have another cb? specially now that it seems that they're shifting to one album per year (not sure this is their wisest decision tho all things considered), you have to make sure that you promote that album properly? which kinda also goes with like, giving your fandom enough time to save for what you release and put out, specially if you're not trying to grow the fandom anymore. if they're dropping an album then don't announce a tour on top of that, and if they're announcing a tour then don't announce a photobook on top of that, and if they've just released an album then wait longer than a month to announce a photobook, and if they've just dropped a photobook then wait a bit longer until announcing the re print of albums the fans have been begging you for 6 years to re print LOL bc all this does is frustrate fans who can't make that much money in such a short time and it's stupid. like. in 2018 I dropped like 200 euros for like their very first photobook BECAUSE I had time to save that amount from their you and I cb (may) to whenever it was announced (I think it was august), and that was the highest tier (so you could get it for much cheaper) and bc back then it was like. well they barely release anything other than albums, so it's fine (also shipping was sooooooo much cheaper I miss it everyday, ofc this is not their fault tho but anyways).

lastly actually, oh my god. that stupid ass app where fans pay a subscription to message the members privately? has been the fucking worst thing to happen to this fandom and the members imo. if fans weren't respecting their boundaries before, it's even worse now. but it's also like. yeah the members should be reinforcing those boundaries, and I get wanting to at least make a buck of those problematic type of fans but I just don't think it has been good for the members at all. I won't elaborate too much on this because it will genuinely piss me the hell off but bottom line: that app has been hell for everyone genuinely there is no bright side to it other than dcc makes money out of it. and there's better ways to make money :))))))))

anyway this is over 1k words atp and somehow I feel like this all just the tip of the iceberg and I probably have forgotten many things bc tbh in the past year I've just. been trying to make peace with it all and just accept things for what they are because dc have been really special to me for such a long time and I just don't want dcc's decisions to make me throw all of that away (like I almost did). I love their music, I love the members, and so I will continue to celebrate wtv right decisions dcc makes but I'm not going to pretend that they're a good company when it comes to business decisions bc they're really not

[wolveria]

On Frozen Wings - Ch 4

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

The squad settle on Pabu in a more permanent way, and Crosshair sends some very confusing signals (until he doesn't).

AO3

Hunter’s struggle to wakefulness was slow, a pleasant heaviness on his limbs, his surroundings soft.

That… was unusual.

He opened his eyes, taking in the dim room, gently lit with the morning glow behind drawn curtains. That was the second thing he noticed. The first, he was in bed alone.

Crosshair’s scent was at least two hours’ old, and Hunter sighed into the pillow. His body ached pleasantly, his sluggishness suggesting he’d slept a full night. Couldn’t remember the last time he did that.

The rest of him might be half-asleep, but his cock was at full attention, remembering what had happened before collapsing into the soft bed.

Frustrated, he got up and forced himself to dress finding whatever he could in the drawers, which ended up being an eggshell-colored top to match the trousers, along with a pair of dark undershorts. His old clothes and armor were gone, even his boots missing, and he could only surmise Crosshair was the reason.

After taking a leak and washing his face, giving up on trying to make his hair manageable, he stepped outside. Hunter breathed in the morning air, savoring it. He never got tired of the salty breeze, alive and warm in a way the Kaminoan sea had never been. Still, something about it was… comfortingly familiar. A better version of home.

He leaned against the railing, admiring the waking bustle below, but he wasn’t alone for long.

“Hello!”

He’d heard her coming, but he still blinked slowly at the girl smiling up at him, a bowl of fruit in hand.

“Morning,” Hunter greeted, unsure. “Sorry, Crosshair isn’t here.”

“Oh, I know.” Lyana smiled at him sweetly, as if she found his slowness amusing. “This is for you.”

“Me?”

“Mmhm.”

She offered up the bowl, and he had no choice but to take it. Hunter stared from her to the innocuous-looking fruit.

“You… knew I was here?”

“Of course!”

She offered no further explanation, and Hunter was afraid to ask.

“Thanks.” His response was warmer this time. “Say hi to your dad for me. Oh, and I might come by later, see if he needs anything while we’ve got some downtime.”

“Will do! Bye, Mister Hunter!”

With a cheery wave, she disappeared around the corner. Hunter shook his head with a faint smile of sympathy for Shep. Omega was growing out of her energetic hurricane stage, but Hunter was more than a little apprehensive about soon having a teenager on his hands.

At least, he wouldn’t have to raise her alone.

Hunter didn’t know when Crosshair would be back, so he slipped on a pair of sandals that fit surprisingly well, and headed off to the Marauder, bowl in hand. He didn’t plan on eating but ended up sneaking a few pieces for himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been actively hungry.

Omega and Wrecker were gathered at the lower gangplank when he found them, preparing to go down to the docks.

The hound was also there, and she hopped up and bounded toward him, forcing Hunter to dodge to the side in her effort to get at the fruit.

“All right.” He laughed and patted her head crest. “Settle, girl.”

“She’s just excited to see you,” Omega said, and then gave him a curious once-over at his different clothing. “You were gone all night.”

“Ah… yeah…”

Hunter had no idea what to say, how to even start explaining whatever this thing was with Crosshair, and he looked at Wrecker in a wordless cry for help.

“Uh,” Wrecker said, as equally elegant. “Wherever it was, you look good! Er, well-rested! Yeah!”

Omega frowned at them both, and it was a little unsettling how the expression looked so much like a certain sniper.

Wrecker rallied as best he could, rubbing Batcher’s side where she’d flopped down next to him.

“Oh, yeah, thought I should tell ya. Crosshair left your stuff here before he took off.” He made a face. “We spent all morning at the cleaner tryin’ to get our gear scrubbed. I swear, I can still taste that place.”

Hunter winced, both at the remembered odor, and at the thought that Crosshair had let him sleep in when he should have been helping.

In fact, it was starting to feel like Crosshair was avoiding him again.

“Took off? Where?”

Wrecker shrugged, and then got to his feet since Omega was done packing their supplies for the day. Wherever she went with Wrecker, whether to help out or explore, she always took snacks enough for him and Batcher.

“Probably where he always goes,” Wrecker added with a thoughtful look.

Ah. That would mean a hidden cove and a harried AZI.

“Right, thanks. For that, and for taking care of our gear.”

“You got it, Sarge.”

Wrecker sent a little lopsided salute, and for some reason that set Batcher off, huffing excitedly and running around his legs, and she was joined by a smiling Omega waving goodbye to him.

Hunter returned it with a lift of his own hand, and once they were gone, he frowned up at the Marauder. Sure enough, his gear was inside, the clothes folded next to the armor pieces, cuirass, and helmet. By the way they were neatly creased, he could guess who had folded them.

He should put them on. They needed to be ready to don their armor at a moment’s notice, prepared for any situation.

He just… didn’t feel like wearing it today. Tomorrow he would, and the day after that. But not today.

Hunter left the armor behind and went off in search of the cove that Crosshair had taken to as his firing range.

But… Crosshair wasn’t there. And there wasn’t any sign he’d been there that day, either.

Hunter briefly considered searching him out—there were only so many places he could go on a small island—but he dismissed it. He needed to break this habit of trailing after him, and if Crosshair really wanted to find him, he would.

Besides, he’d already offered his time to Shep, and whatever the man needed done would be a good distraction.

It was, it turned out. Shep greeted him with his usual warm cheeriness, and his compliment at Hunter’s casual wear was enthusiastic enough to make his cheeks warm.

Huh. Between Wrecker and Shep, Hunter might actually believe he didn’t look half-bad.

Hunter didn’t need to worry that he would go the entire day without his sniper. He spotted Crosshair down at the eastern docks while on his way to pick up a couple of shipments of green Gabaki leaf.

Crosshair didn’t notice him, too focused on his own task where he sat on the pier. Hunter couldn’t tell what he was doing at first, but when he got closer, he spotted the basket of loose fiber twine, and the way Crosshair meticulously threaded and tied the strands together until they formed a taut rope.

Hunter had no idea where he’d learned to do that. Maybe he just had. The movements were fluid, graceful, and Hunter paused to watch, mesmerized.

At one point, Crosshair faulted as his right hand inevitably trembled, but instead of clenching his fist and frowning in an inward turn of frustration, he loosened his fingers and took a breath. Hunter watched, amazed, as Crosshair waited for the trembling to subside before he continued his task.

Seemed whatever Omega did while they were gone had helped, and Hunter’s lips tugged upward at the thought.

As if he could sense anyone having a nice thought in his direction, Crosshair narrowed his eyes and looked up.

Hunter quickly turned away, and with a large food trolley rolling down the boardwalk to block his view, he wasn’t sure if Crosshair had spotted him. By the faint, tingling pressure at the back of his neck, Hunter guessed he hadn’t succeeded.

He didn’t want to distract Crosshair from his work—that’s all. He didn’t feel… unsteady about last night. It had been nice. Felt nice, too. And falling asleep next to Crosshair had been the most natural thing in the galaxy.

He just wasn’t sure how Crosshair felt about it, and that was new. There was a time he thought he knew how Crosshair felt about everything.

Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Hunter handed the woman at the dock the bag Shep had given him. From their feel, they were jewelry or shells and beads, and it wasn’t unusual for such trades on the island. The economic system on Pabu relied on goodwill and gifts, rather than any kind of currency.

Hunter balanced the two crates of green Gabaki on his shoulder, his next stop the infirmary to drop off the medicinal herb. He didn’t mind the walk, the chance to learn more of the island and enjoy the fresh breeze, but he wasn’t sure about some of the looks he was getting. Most people ignored him or gave him a polite nod, but more than one person stared at him for longer than usual.

He frowned. Had he worn something he shouldn’t? Something against etiquette, or wrong for the season or time of day. There didn’t seem anything particularly special about his clothes, just that they were thinner and looser from what he usually wore.

The answer wasn’t forthcoming, and Hunter tried to put it out of his mind as he continued his tasks. He didn’t run into Crosshair the rest of the day, though once in a while something tugged at the back of his neck, a familiar feeling of being watched.

For lunch he stopped by the house, only to find it still empty. Hunter tried not to let that fact bother him, and he spent the rest of the day between running errands and checking in on folks who might need help—people who lived alone, were older, or had medical issues.

Hunter also stopped by the house the former clone cadets shared. Stak, Mox, and Deke were all settling in well, better than he would have thought, but they were still young. They hadn’t had a lifetime of being told their only use was to be a good, obedient soldier. And Hunter was grateful for that.

They certainly seemed more excited to see him than Omega and Wrecker were. Not that they minded Hunter there, they were just doing fine without him, combing the island for whatever treasures they could find (seashells seemed to be the choice of the day). Hunter felt a little like the odd man out.

With a small smile, he realized that was exactly it. His family was settling in, genuinely this time, and they didn’t need him hovering over them like an overprotective gundark mother with a den of cubs.

It was a nice change, but still unfamiliar. He should… be fine with it. Not being needed.

Well, perhaps there was one thing left he could do.

That night, after having an extensive conversation over dinner with Shep, Hunter approached the Marauder, trying to fight down the grin and keep his face neutral. Wrecker, Omega, and the hound were there, having just finished their own meal. He felt a little guilty he hadn’t eaten with them, but it was for good reason.

Still no Crosshair in sight, but he couldn’t hide forever. After all, Hunter knew where he lived.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Omega turned to him, halfway up the gangplank and fighting a yawn, and she fixed him with a confused frown. Yeah, he could definitely see the resemblance.

“To… bed?” she tried. Even Wrecker was giving Hunter a look like he’d missed something crucial.

Hunter’s lips twitched, but he kept his sergeant-serious expression.

“Grab your stuff,” Hunter said, arms crossed as he looked between them. “Both of you.”

Now they both looked a little concerned, and he shouldn’t find this as amusing as he did. But he had to get his kicks somewhere, and they’d forgive him when they saw what he had planned.

Wrecker must have seen something in his eyes, because suddenly he grinned—he’d seen that pretend-sternness before, usually right before Hunter presented them with some new weapon or detonator, courtesy of the Republic experimental weapons division.

It’d a long time since Hunter had a reason to gift them with a surprise, and with any luck, this one wouldn’t explode.

Wrecker’s enthusiasm immediately infected Omega, and she went bounding into the ship ahead of him, both of them a whirlwind as they grabbed their meager belongings. They had to travel light while living on a ship.

Hopefully… that would soon change.

After they both left the ship, Hunter pressed a button on his comm to retract the gangplank and close the hatch. Omega watched with a questioning look, but Wrecker was far too eager to pay much attention, and the hound caught on to the joyful air, huffing and dancing circles around them.

Hunter winced a little. He’d forgotten to mention Batcher in his conversation with Shep, but he figured the man knew she was inseparable from Omega. It would be fine. Probably.

He led them down the wide stairs that wrapped around the upper portion of the island, and then along one of the upper ledges where several smatterings of huts were dotted around in clusters.

One stood off alone and higher than the others, and Hunter noted the light was on inside. His stomach fluttered, but he didn’t lead them toward that house, instead guiding them to a larger one that was nestled against the wall. It was close to the path winding to the other hut but gave enough distance for privacy.

It was perfect. He could only hope the others thought so as well as he opened the front door and stepped aside.

“Go on,” he finally said when neither of them moved.

The two shared a glance, as if two children unsure if they were allowed to open a present set before them, and Omega finally asked, “Whose house is this?”

“Well…” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Ours. At least, it can be, if we want—”

He didn’t finish before the three of them, hound included, rushed inside.

Hunter followed at a slower pace, his smile no longer hidden. He leaned against one of the inner walls, just watching as they scoured the place. He’d stopped by that evening to make sure it would even fit them all, and it would. It had been their good fortune to be empty at the time, the previous family having moved to a hut closer to the docks.

Hunter sensed it before he heard anything—a familiar presence behind him, electrifying enough to cause the back of his neck to tingle.

“They seem happy,” Crosshair drawled, his tone almost bored as he leaned inside the open doorway.

Hunter gave a small grunt, his eyes purposefully forward.

“You gave me the idea, actually.”

“Is that so?”

His tone might be flat, but Hunter could hear the curiosity poking out from underneath.

“Yeah. Figured if we’re going to stay here… then we should stay here.”

“No more foot halfway out the door?”

Hunter glanced over his shoulder. Crosshair had him in his sights with his full attention, and Hunter swallowed.

Crosshair was asking about much more than just the housing situation.

Before Hunter could answer—and perhaps point out that he wasn’t the one who kept vanishing—Batcher loped into the room, skidding to a stop just before Crosshair. She sat on her haunches and wagged her tail with sudden good behavior.

Crosshair’s face softened, and he patted the hound on her head. She gave a happy, canine grin and stood up just to plop against his legs, silently begging for more head pats. Hunter hadn’t realized he could be envious of an animal.

“Crosshair!” Omega crowed with equal delight. “You’re here!”

“Of course I am,” he answered, as if there was no other option. “I could hear you halfway down the mountain.”

Hunter winced. Fair enough, they had to work on their volume now that they had neighbors, Crosshair being one of them.

Omega frowned.

“Wait, there’s only three rooms. What about Crosshair?”

When Crosshair didn’t immediately answer, Hunter glanced at him and was met with a raised brow, one that asked, You didn’t tell her?

Hunter winced again, and—all right, he didn’t mean to withhold information, it was an old habit. He should have mentioned Crosshair’s place. He just… hadn’t.

“He has his own house, up the path.” Before any other questions could be asked, Hunter added, “And the third room isn’t for me. It’s for Echo. He can have a room of his own when he visits.”

Omega frowned further, mirrored by Wrecker, and she asked the next question that froze Hunter in place.

“So… where will you be sleeping?”

He found himself without an answer, his brain unhelpfully refusing to supply words. Instead, he looked at Crosshair as if for help. That was his first mistake.

Crosshair’s eyes sparkled.

“With me.”

Well, he hadn’t saved Hunter, so much as he’d slackened the line he’d tossed and let Hunter dangle further down the cliff.

“He means, I’ll be staying at his place,” Hunter supplied weakly.

“Oh.” Omega looked between them. “So, you have lots of rooms too?”

“No. Just the one.”

Crosshair wasn’t even bothering to hide the mirth in his voice, and Hunter’s face had started to heat, grown worse when Wrecker’s brows rose in a way that meant he understood a little too much.

“All right,” Hunter interceded when the silence grew too long, “go on, unpack what you need for bed. You can stay up—not too late.”

He knew that instruction would be flouted by the poorly disguised innocent expressions, but that was all right. They deserved an all-nighter if it meant they got to enjoy their new living arrangements.

“And… Batcher can stay inside too?” Omega asked, hopeful, as if worried this was all a trick that would be taken away at a moment’s notice. Hearing her name, the hound joined in, and both of them stared up at him with big, sad eyes as Omega hugged her around the neck.

Hunter sighed. Just because he knew he was being manipulated didn’t make it any less effective.

“Yeah. Course she can.”

Omega’s face brightened in triumph, but she quickly tamped it down with a contrite look that didn’t fool anyone.

“And… Lyana can come visit? Maybe even stay the night?”

“If it’s fine with Shep then it’s fine with me.”

“Deke, Stak, and Mox?”

Hunter hesitated this time. He had first-hand experience with the mischief young clones could get up to, whether or not they were still technically cadets.

“…Yes to visiting, no to sleeping over.”

“And Phee?”

Hunter again hesitated. There was a time where he’d rather have thrown himself into the ocean than listen to one more of her tall tales. But… after everything that had happened, and the home they’d made here, Hunter considered her one of them now.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “and Phee.”

Omega launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He blinked down at her before resting a hand on her head. She’d grown so much while they’d been separated—she came up to his chest now, and he didn’t know what to think about that. So much time lost with her, and Crosshair, and…

“Thank you,” she said, and the words tugged at a soft spot in his heart. He returned her smile and gave a nod of acknowledgement. When she detached herself from him, Hunter’s vision was suddenly filled with Wrecker, and he barely had time to prepare when the bigger clone picked him up in a crushing hug.

“Yeah, thanks, Sarge!”

Hunter made a small noise, all he could do with his air cut off, and Wrecker set him down with a large grin. Well, at least he’d gotten out that annoying crick in his back.

As the two excitedly unpacked their few belongings, he watched with a sense of lightness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

And then he got that feeling again, the tugging on the back of his neck. When he turned to look, Crosshair didn’t bother to hide the fact he was staring.

Staring was a mild word for how Crosshair burned a hole through him, and the laser focus distracted him from the hand that encircled his wrist. Hunter was pulled out the door before he knew what was happening, but he followed along in the dark, willingly.

Hunter was barely inside the house before Crosshair slammed his palm over the locking mechanism. The door slid shut behind him, and Hunter was crowded against the door, back hitting the surface.

And then Crosshair was on him, greedy lips his neck as his hands roamed with a fervor that jolted Hunter’s hips.

Crosshair’s smug smirk was imprinted against his throat as he pressed him further against the surface, his armor a cruel barrier against Hunter’s loose clothing and suddenly sensitive skin.

He made some kind of noise, temporarily losing the ability to speak, and Crosshair took it as a sign to continue. Hunter didn’t realize what he was about to do, even when Crosshair dropped to his knees, his brain finally catching up when he pulled his pants and undershorts around his thighs.

“Cr-Crosshair,” he choked. “You don’t have to.”

Crosshair hummed thoughtfully, and then while meeting Hunter’s eye, he dragged his tongue along the underside of his painfully hard cock.

The sound punched out of Hunter was so unlike him, a desperate, weak whimper, and Crosshair grinned like the nexu he was.

“Oh, I know.” Crosshair continued to run his tongue over his cock, little kitten-licks that would make Hunter confess to anything if this suddenly became an interrogation session. “But the way you strutted around in that outfit all day—”

Hunter whimpered again as Crosshair dragged his tongue over the dripping head of his cock.

“Strutted?!” His indignation was lost as he groaned.

“Mmhmm.” Crosshair gently sucked on the head, and Hunter swore he could have seen stars. “Showing off that ass like you’re begging to be bent over the nearest surface. Which… if that’s what you want, you could just ask.”

Hunter made another pathetic noise as Crosshair took more of him into his mouth, and it was an uphill battle trying to follow along with his words while he was being sucked into that wet heat. Stars, he wasn’t going to last long like this.

When Hunter didn’t give any sort of intelligible response, Crosshair pulled off his cock. The sniper frowned up at him as Hunter blinked, and his head cleared a little.

“…What?”

Maybe not that clear.

Crosshair frowned further, but there was an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes.

“How do you want it?” Crosshair asked, and the unusual softness was in his tone too. “Me inside you? Or do you want to fuck me?”

It was like laying a table full of sweet cakes and fruit pies in front of Wrecker and asking where he wanted to start first. He was frozen in indecision—everything sounded damned good, and it was almost impossible to make what felt like an important choice with Crosshair’s mouth so close to his weeping cock.

“I… donno,” Hunter finally admitted. “I just want you.”

“Mmm.” Crosshair’s hum wasn’t helpful, his hand slowly massaging the base of Hunter’s cock even less so. “Ever received a blowjob before?”

Hunter blinked.

“You mean… other than right now?”

Crosshair’s low laugh sent a bolt through his already tense groin.

“Oh, this? This is nothing.” And as if to prove his point, he dragged his tongue around the head, threatening to buckle Hunter’s knees.

“Th-then, no. Never had one.”

The look in Crosshair’s eyes was downright dangerous, predatory and sharp.

“Good.”

It was all the warning he got before Crosshair descended on him. He took his cock into his mouth and hollowed out his cheeks, at the same moment his hands stroked and pulled Hunter’s length, every part of him at Crosshair’s mercy.

Crosshair focused on his mission like he would any other, with an inhuman amount of focused patience and lethal determination. It was all Hunter could do to brace against the door and not lose his footing completely, though at one point, one of his hands found its way to Crosshair’s head.

Hunter hadn’t realized how much he needed touch until recently, and he cradled the crown of his head, running his bare fingers over the short stubble. He suddenly missed the silver strands and the opportunity to run his hand though it like this. Crosshair never would have let him do this back then. He was pretty sure of that.

Though with the laser-focused determination on his cock, Hunter wasn’t sure of much. Whatever this was with Crosshair, it didn’t feel like a new, fleeting idea he was entertaining on a whim. It felt like a starving man finally given food after years of neglect.

Hunter’s whine was punctuated by a shout as Crosshair cupped his balls and gently kneaded them, and with a further nudging of Hunter’s thighs, the sniper found what he was looking for.

He couldn’t get very far going in dry, but the pressure of Crosshair’s finger against the pucker of muscle was enough to arch Hunter’s back, and with a warning that was little more than a strangled whimper, Hunter came.

Crosshair didn’t pull away or relent, instead swallowing everything Hunter gave and milked him for more. Tears prickled in his eyes at the overstimulation, but Crosshair wasn’t satisfied until his balls were empty and nothing else would come out of his sore, twitching cock.

Hunter tried to catch his breath, one hand still on Crosshair’s head. He expected the sniper to slink away, make some snide comment before rebuilding whatever defenses he’d had to let down for this.

But Crosshair stayed where he was. Hunter experimentally cupped his face, and Crosshair leaned into his palm like a lonely animal starved for attention.

Hunter continued to hold him like that, enthralled by the soft absence of tension on Crosshair’s face, his eyes closing as Hunter stroked a thumb along his cheek. It was… sweet. Really sweet.

He didn’t quite know how he wanted to go about this yet, but he was beginning to. He wanted to make Crosshair feel good. Not out a sense of guilt or obligation, but it did have to do with the complicated history between them. An apology and a promise. Making amends in a very unconventional way.

Hunter could have stayed like that forever, especially when Crosshair rested his cheek against his thigh, skin warm against bare skin. But then the sniper decided there was too much peace going on for his liking, and he leaned forward and dragged a lick across his soft cock.

Hunter twitched, and when Crosshair did it again, he knew it would take only a few more strokes of that wicked tongue to make him hard again.

“Crosshair.”

“Mmm?” He sounded completely unbothered by Hunter’s tone of warning.

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

Crosshair gave another lazy lick, this time along the junction between his length and his balls—and yeah, Hunter was about to have the most sensitive hard-on in his life if he didn’t stop this.

He managed to drag the lanky sniper to his feet, and instead of receiving an expected snarl, Crosshair just gave him a faint, smug smirk. There was also an interesting haze of pleasure to his eyes, as if he’d been the one coming down someone’s throat, not Hunter.

But when Hunter reached for his codpiece, the pleasurable haze disappeared and was replaced by stubbornness, and he batted Hunter’s hand away.

“It’s not about favors, Hunter.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said with his own frustrated huff. Why was it Crosshair’s damn lot in life to make everything so difficult? “But I… but you need…”

Crosshair raised his brows, and Hunter blundered his way through his increasing difficulty in talking.

“That’s twice now for me, and you haven’t come at all.”

The eyeroll was more dramatic than it needed to be, in Hunter’s opinion.

“I’m not accruing orgasm debt, Hunter. It’s fine.”

Hunter scowled at any definition of fine where it ended up with him getting mind-numbing attention and Crosshair got nothing at all.

And then Hunter looked at him closer. Crosshair genuinely seemed fine, but that edge of need was still there in his scent. He clearly could use some relief, but he was pushing back and maintaining he didn’t. How long could he keep that up? Why was being stubborn about it? Why didn’t he just ask—

Ah. That’s why.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, and Crosshair’s own smug look faded away, replaced by suspicion.

“Fine,” Hunter eventually said, though he wasn’t going to leave it at that. Not by a long shot. But since Crosshair’s wary look was becoming more and more intense, he added, “At least take your damn armor off so we can go to bed.”

The wary look remained for a moment, and then his expression shifted, a small tug on his lips as his eyes glinted.

“You like me in my armor,” he purred. “Don’t pretend you didn’t eye me up when I first put it on again. Like you were starving, and I was a tasty piece of meat.”

Hunter’s face fused with heat. So, yeah, seeing Crosshair in his old armor had been both a punch to the gut and a confusing rush to his groin. In fact, he’s fairly sure that’s what had set him off, to seek out Crosshair and demand answers as to why he had returned. Though in hindsight, that hadn’t been the true question—it had always been about why Crosshair had left them. Never about why he’d come back.

Hunter had hoped the once-over he’d given the sniper under his own helmet had gone unnoticed. Apparently not.

And yes, Crosshair on his knees before Hunter, fully kitted out, was a memory vivid enough to make his head spin, but that was beside the point.

“Yeah, well, I don’t need that pauldron blade stabbing me in the eye,” Hunter grumbled, but it was all harmless fluff. An excuse to give Crosshair a stern side eye so they could both pretend this wasn’t another new, strange step.

He was going to get to sleep next to Crosshair. Every night. In an actual bed.

The last few months of his life had been the worst, no contest. There had been moments when he hadn’t seen it getting any better.

And then it had. And here they were, in a place that Hunter could easily see himself calling home.

He must have taken too long to strip off the rest of his clothes, because a presence suddenly leaned against his back, Crosshair resting his chin on his shoulder in a way that was somehow both devious and adorable.

“You really have no idea,” he said, as if they were continuing from another conversation. “The amount of people staring at your ass today.”

As if there was any question of the subject matter, he grabbed a handful of Hunter’s backside, and he nearly squeaked. Thankfully he hadn’t, but the high-pitched moan that came out wasn’t much better.

“And how would you know?” Hunter asked in an attempt to recover his dignity.

Crosshair seemed uninterested in shame or decency as his teeth clasped on the shell of Hunter’s ear, lightly nibbling.

“Because I was also watching your ass, as you damn well know. Unless your senses have dulled over the years.”

He scowled, though the effect was lost with Crosshair at his back.

“They haven’t.”

And then Crosshair moved away, and Hunter’s shirt was pulled over his head before he knew it, and the sniper was herding him toward the bed. Crosshair was stripped down to his lower body glove, and when had he done that? Hunter must have been inside his own head longer than he’d thought to miss Crosshair removing all of his armor and half his suit.

Hunter also wasn’t used to being pulled from those moments of blankly gazing at walls, not with Echo off with Rex, and Wrecker too anxious to snap him out of it. But Crosshair had never had a problem with politeness or decency when it came to Hunter.

He proved that now by practically bullying him into bed, and before Hunter could think to complain, the inviting softness of the blankets shut him up. The faint scent of Crosshair lingered on the sheets, and Hunted wanted to bury himself in them for that reason alone.

“So,” he mumbled as he settled in, “you like the clothes?”

Crosshair clicked his tongue against his teeth, but when he joined him on the bed, Hunter pulled him close like Wrecker used to with Lula. He made a noise of complaint that might have been a hiss, but Hunter ignored it and tugged him closer, resting his chin on top of Crosshair’s head.

The sniper eventually gave up, the defeated sigh leaving him in dramatic fashion, but he still looped an arm around Hunter’s waist, his breath warm and comforting against his neck.

“Yes,” Crosshair finally relented. “They look… nice.”

High praise from the sniper.

“Good to know.”

Something was still missing, and Hunter scooted his legs forward until he could intertwine them with Crosshair’s.

“Happy?” he drawled. “Any closer and I’ll be inside you.”

Hunter let out a laugh that was so low it was nearly a rumble.

Yeah. He was happy. And he would be even happier once he figured out a way to convince Crosshair that Hunter wanted to make him feel good. He’d only been successful the once, and he’d caught Crosshair in a vulnerable moment.

He couldn’t rely on that happening again, nor did he want to. But something else tugged at his mind about that moment. Crosshair would never ask Hunter for help. Not directly. He could find a way around that. He had years’ experience navigating Crosshair’s particular way of doing things, after all.

And they had nothing but time.

Next Chapter

[grogusmum]

MARCH: In Which, Beans Are Not Beans, Eggs Are Everyplace and I Have To Eat Them (this is doing my part, people!) An Eostre Story as told by Grogu Djarin

WORD COUNT: 1000ish

RATED: G

WARNINGS: excessive fluff and sassafras, oh and food. Lots of food.

A/N: Here is the March installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023. Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms Ostara or Eostre marks the vernal equinox, the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere and one of the two days when the amount of daylight and darkness is equal- and from here on in the days get longer. Ever wonder where all the bunnies and eggs in the Easter celebration come from? It comes from this holiday right here. 

During a milestone celebration, I did a Grogu Character Takeover and got this ask-

Have you ever seen rabbits on the farm or is big ears the only rabbit you’ve met? That reminds me, since you like eggs so much have you heard about Easter which is all about hunting for eggs. I think you’d be amazing at it. Did you know bunnies can be made out of chocolate?

I thought it might be fun to expand on Grogu’s answer for this month's year of creation fic.  This is set in A Galaxy Far Far Away AU. Here is a link to that series (though you don't really have to read it to get what's going on here except that Din and Grogu are on Earth with a pagan f!reader who lives in a house called Juniper Cottage.) This is not a “witchy” one, but I hope you enjoy!

At Jupiter Cottage, Easter is called Éostre, but I was told when it comes to eggs and bunnies they are very the same! This is one of those Special Days on the calendar on the wall. And that means fun and food!

First is The Preparation. 

When I waked up one day the Jupiter Cottage had bunnies everywhere. Wooden ones, and softy ones, plus also ones that might break so please do not force lift them, thank you very much. AAAALLLLL the winter decorations were gone and the little seeds we planted on the windowsill a few weeks ago on that day about guessing when spring comes were peeking out of the dirt! 

But the most important thing is collecting eggs. This is a thing I am very good at. And the hens do not mind one bit!! We have “an Agreement”. That is permission to eat their eggs. I was very shocked by this news cuz my past experience with eating eggs was… well, let’s just say- Not. Great.  ANYWAYS, all the hens love me very a lot and we are best friends. Eva is the only hen in the hen home that gives us white eggs, so we had been saving up her eggs for a little while so we would have plenty of white eggs “for coloring”.

This is what you do: the eggs get boiled up first. This can be a frustrating process. Cuz if they crack, you can not color them. But I do not mind it, cuz I get to eat The Mistakes! Then they go in little cups. The cups all have their own colors- there is blue water, and red water, plus also yellow water, and all the waters smell weird. I am NOT allowed to drink ANY of them! 

I had trouble remembering this rule. 

We dipped the eggs in, and when they came out! They were all the colors of red and purple, yellow and blue, and green (my favorite)! This is cuz of mixing colors together and making other colors! WHAT?! Dad and Me were taught to draw pictures on the eggs before putting them in the color water with this little magic crayon! It was a very big surprise I tell you, cuz you couldn’t see what you drawed at all! Then, after putting them into the waters, WOW, the drawings is RIGHT THERE! We drawed rabbits and suns, plus also mudhorns…. and frogs a-course.

I was so excited at bedtime the night before Éostre! I was thinking about that bunny visiting us and giving me chocolate and things. I got wiggley, plus also very giggling, and stopping wiggling and giggling is hard, I tell you!

Dad sighed his sigh of you are my dear child, who never does anything wrong ever, but I am just a tired father many times.

The sun waked up and waked me up, so it was not my fault at all! So I waked Dad and he said, all super sleepy and gravel, I’m sleeping, lil womp rat.

So I just went out to peek out the door for the surprises the Éostre Bunny left for me. I brought Long Ears with me. (You know who Long Ears is, right? Yeah, we’ve discussed that guy) Cuz she is an expert being a bunny and all. I found a trail of the tiniest color eggs I have ever seen in my entire life. First, I sniffed it, and then I tasted one, cuz that is what I do! And they were so yummy! They did not taste like ANY egg I have EVER had, and I have had many eggs, even some we do not talk about!

(Frogs are friends, not food!)

ANYWAYS I was informed later that they are called “jelly beans”. But they are not beans at all, they are candy, so a Special Treat! Which is code for I can not have them all the time, which is not what I want to hear, Father!

How can they not be beans, it says bean in its very own name!? Like Candy Corns, did you know they are not corns at all? I was shocked by that news. But I do not care so much cuz candy corn is not so much… good. It is sweet. But… blah, crayony. How I know what crayons taste like is another story, that I am not telling at this time.

The jelly not-beans leaded to a basket, oh boy! It had so many good, good things! Chocolate rabbits! Well, rabbit SHAPED chocolate. I got a little concerned. And so did Long Ears! And these guys called Peepses! Have you had them?! Like baby chicks BUT NOT! These peepses are yellow with white fluffy fluff inside and chocolate on their bottoms. Plus also a wooden duck guy that you pull with a string and his big orange feet go whap whap whap on the floor and his bill goes quack quack quack and I walked him around and around! Oh and a little wooden cup on a stick, plus also an egg on a string… it is a game of trying to swing the egg into the cup. This is hard. And the egg is hard. And bonky when it hits you in the face.

Dad likes it and is good at it. He says I will get better, I just need to practice. I just walked that Duck guy around some more.

In New Hampster it is still cold outside even when it is Spring. Sometimes it snows. But not this time… So when it was not “the crack of dawn, for kriff sake” we went outside to do The Egg Hunt. It is a good thing I am a good egg finder! Cuz eggs was every place- under blueberry bushes and the jupiter bushes a-course, and in the garden shed and under Clara, which was funny. She said, Grogu did I lay a purple egg!? And I said, no silly chicken!

Pfft, I love her, but that guy. We also went for a walk in the woods to look for green and had a feast! 

Then a special moment happened! That was the Moment of the Equimox! This is when the sun moves across a line on Earth. And you get to do an eggsparmint. That is standing an egg up on one end, and it will stay! Or so they say, cuz we tried and tried… Dad and me were skepical.

And that is the special day of Eostre at Jupiter Cottage. And it was a good thing I like eggs so much, cuz we had to eat them for DAYS! We ate them hard boil, and devils, plus also salad samich.

this is Long Ears.

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚

You can find more of my writing here, and if you are interested in being tagged for this or any of my other works, here is my taglist form.

And if you want to ask Grogu a question, you can find him @grogu-explains-it-all

[perfctvelvet]

Something Over Nothing

Zendaya/Reader

Content: ex-lovers, angst, implied cheating, smut, oral, thigh humping. 18+ only!!!

Author's note: Planning to post the Dua fic later this week! Also working on a series idea for patreon, but I'm not 100% sure about it. Anyway, enjoy!

“I don’t want to make this any more confusing than it already is.”

“How is it confusing? I think everyone would understand that we’re giving this another shot. And, if someone asks, we can just say we were taking a break.”

Y/n sighs in frustration. Zendaya has a gleam in her eyes, showing off her ardent optimism. She is 100% all in this, but Y/n isn’t sure what ‘this’ is. Yes, Zendaya was becoming present in her life again after months of not being together, but Y/n struggles to see where that equals their relationship rekindling; if anything she thought they were closer on the path to just being friends. There has never been any discussion of what they have — that is something Y/n is trying to avoid.

“That’s not a good idea,” is all she says, much to Zendaya’s frustration.

It’s going to take a while for her to budge, especially with the way things ended between them. It took her some time to simply even talk to her ex-girlfriend. Zendaya is at their once-shared apartment almost everyday now. Sometimes she cooks breakfast or dinner. She sometimes even sleeps in the same bed as Y/n when they’re both too tired after fucking each other. The lines were blurring and it’s because Y/n is allowing it which leads Zendaya to believe they’re in a better place.

Zendaya had made her favorite meal last night. The warmth between the two of them last night left her feeling hopeful about amending things. They felt like a couple in love again. She was even further emboldened to think that when Y/n invited her into her bedroom that night. There wasn’t that familiar lustful look in her eyes, instead she was inviting her in because she simply just wanted to be with her. It made Zendaya feel missed and loved. If she knew that it wasn’t a sign of them headed in a favorable direction then maybe she would’ve declined and just fell asleep on the couch.

“You never wanna talk about this! Everyone thinks something is up. My parents are asking about us — my friends too. And every time they ask I have no clue what to say to them.”

Zendaya gets real solemn and quiet, running her hand over her tired face as she sighs. Y/n has never, ever made this easy. She hates to call Y/n difficult, but it frustrates Zendaya how she’s constantly ignoring the obvious.

“Does everything we do mean nothing?” She continues.

Y/n scoffs as she begins to feel a little cornered. This is a topic Zendaya can go on and on about for hours, but Y/n struggles to entertain it.

She’s not using Zendaya like she may be implying. It’s just hard when she feels the pressure (and it’s not just coming from Zendaya) of trying to get back together. Things were very tumultuous at one point, and just because they’re both doing better now doesn’t mean she’s ready to just jump back in. Y/n can admit that she enjoys her company and still has deep feelings for her, but it’s hard when deep hurt also exists inside of her.

“It’s not just about sex. Not to sound like I have a big head, but there are plenty of people I can just sleep with.”

“Well you’re giving me whiplash! You know how I feel about you, and sex complicates things.”

The way Y/n clings onto her and cries her name while she’s fucking her allutes to there being emotions attached to sex together. Y/n is gorgeous so she could easily find someone else to see or fuck, but she’s deliberately choosing to spend time with Zendaya and sleeps with her. That has to mean something.

It means something, but Y/n isn’t ready to jump into the deep end of the pool. She’s much more comfortable letting Zendaya slowly slip back into her life. She was becoming a part of her daily routine again; making breakfast in the morning, sometimes stopping by her job for lunch, and helping her unwind in the evening. The way she lifts the small burdens off her shoulders is much more appreciated than the grand declarations of love.

“I want to give us another shot,” Zendaya admits something everyone, including Y/n, in the entire world already knows. “You still mean so much to me.”

Y/n sighs in frustration. She wonders how Zendaya must feel about having to beg for this. She feels bad because she knows it must hurt to be shut out like this. However, she’s putting herself first — and she is telling herself to take it slow.

“I just don’t want to rush into things, and I won’t. That’s where I stand and I’m not moving on it.”

Although her words would sound like rejection to others, to Zendaya it sounded like a second chance is still being considered. That means something to her.

“Okay,” she says slowly as if accepting. “Okay,” she says again.

So, where do they go from here? Continue to act like they’re together again like they have been doing for the last month or so? Or will Y/n eventually go back to icing her out?

“Well, Y/n,” she hesitates for a split second. Her mouth gets dry, knowing her next words could ruin everything. “I won’t stick around forever…I can’t.”

Zendaya has never used herself as leverage with Y/n, it was usually the other way around. Y/n was stunned by the shift of tone in her voice, nearly putting everything into perspective. Even if she means what she says (she doesn’t though), Y/n realizes that the thought of not having Zendaya around makes her heart race. She’s been linked with other women before, but she never took is seriously because she always came around despite them no longer being together. Y/n honestly doesn’t believe Zendaya will stop coming around, but the threat scares her. Zendaya could very well give up on trying to rekindle a relationship with her and it would be absolutely devastating for both of them. Having Zendaya follow her around like a little puppy was fun — she can’t lie — however, she truly loves her presence being around. She’s too stubborn to admit it, but Y/n loves her being around. Zendaya has changed since they're relationship ended and while some of her new habits are new to her, she doesn’t mind them.

“You don’t mean that,” Y/n says weakly. She hopes to the high heavens that she really doesn’t mean that.

“Maybe I do.”

Zendaya’s voice is also weak. They’re both two liars who want each other very badly.

Zendaya can understand Y/n’s hesitation to want to jump back into a relationship with her. She has been a bit eager which she can admit. It’s hard for her to discern what is real and fake; she’s not good at simply just hooking up.

“But you’re the one who wants to keep trying, you said it yourself.”

“I did, but something has to give, Y/n. This isn’t fair to either of us. I don’t want to lay down with you knowing it’s not going anywhere. You make me feel good and not just physically. I just want you to see that this still means something to me.”

Y/n didn’t intend for the conversation to go this far. Zendaya is always willing to spill her feelings though and she figures this has been bubbling under the surface for a while. All she can offer her ex is a “sorry,” but she isn’t exactly sure what she is sorry for. Zendaya accepts it anyway and gets up to go get started on dinner. Y/n really doesn’t want to be alone right now, but she is unsure how to approach it.

She follows her into the kitchen about fit minutes later. She rests against the corner just watching Zendaya where she looks distracted. The guilt is starting to sink in. All of the homemade meals she’s been eating lately were made by her ex. Zendaya always said she knew how busy Y/n was and always made sure she had something to eat after work.

“Z,” Y/n’s voice almost cracks as she speaks. Her skin grows hot in embarrassment of both her weakness and why she’s standing in the kitchen’s entrance. Zendaya turns around and looks at her with an unreadable look on her face until it becomes one of shock when Y/n says sorry again. “I don’t want to fight with you. I wanted to have a normal day with you.”

A normal day with each other.

A “normal day” for them is Y/n coming home and then spending the first 30 minutes pretending there isn’t any sexual tension between them before they cave. She just wanted today to be the same. Zendaya feels a little guilty for throwing their day off by pressing her with uncomfortable questions. So she’ll be the one to make sure the day ends like a “normal day.”

Y/n understands what’s happening when Zendaya turns the stove top off and approaches her. Their argument seems so trivial when she raps her arms around Y/n’s waist and presses their lips together. She always had a way to make Y/n melt, which always pissed Y/n off. Zendaya’s soft eyes, warm embrace, and loving touch always pissed her off. She wanted to be strong enough to withstand the affection, but it was nearly impossible.

“Y/n,” she moans her name as if she’s touched her yet. Y/n is aware of the effect she has on Zendaya, she has used it to her advantage many times before.

Y/n feels herself being lifted up and she makes things quick by hopping onto the kitchen counter. The kissing intensifies as Zendaya leans into her. Her back meets the wall causing her to groan into her mouth. The vibration drives Zendaya crazy. The existing frustration is taken out in this bruising kiss.

“You taste so sweet,” Zendaya moans before kissing Y/n again. No candy she’s had as a kid could compare to this. Zendaya can’t think of the last time she has wanted someone so bad.

The day has been so long and Y/n is just so tired of fighting. She gives into her desires, what her body craves, and her ex-girlfriend’s touch.

Her legs get thrown over Zendaya’s shoulders, and her face between her thighs heats her up. She can feel her breathing against her covered sex. Zendaya feels privileged that she’s allowed this. She kisses Y/n’s bare thigh once and then again for good luck. Her hands grip the underside of her pretty thighs.

“I’m so lucky,” she whispers, voice muffled by Y/n’s thighs, but Y/n moans regardless.

Y/n bucks her hips which causes Zendaya’s nose to press into her clit. She likes when Y/n is this eager for her because she’s always willing to oblige. Soon her panties are on the floor and her wet tongue is pressed flat against Y/n’s clit. She cries out as Zendaya spoils her sensitive nub. She thinks the kitchen might break if she grips it any harder.

Her clit rolls against her tongue before she takes it into her mouth.

“Oh my god!” Y/n’s voice cracks as she whines.

The pleasure Zendaya brings her is something she’ll never get over. She almost thrashes around from the overloading of her senses. The sound of her ex-girlfriend’s lips smacking against her pussy makes her want to cry. She’s so good at paying attention to detail, licking her in the way Y/n loves until she hears that strangled “baby, baby, baby…”

Y/n is embarrassingly close to cumming on Zendaya’s tongue. She’s sure she could go for longer like the energizer bunny, but Y/n already feels ready to tap out. Despite the death grip on her, her thighs tremble beyond control.

Zendaya’s grip slips from her thighs so two of her fingers can push into her. Her pussy engulfs her in wet warmth, making Zendaya moan. She looks up at Y/n, a gleam in her eyes, and tells Y/n not to cum just yet. Y/n throws her head back and lets out a frustrated groan. Zendaya’s fingers are hitting just the right spot; how could she not cum when it feels this good?

“You were desperate for it,” Zendaya teases. She likes seeing Y/n squirm, especially after she tried to put a wall between them. “Throw a fit when this is all you wanted.”

Her walls keep sucking Zendaya’s fingers in, making it a challenge to pump them in and out of her. Y/n’s needy body is so fun to watch as she withers away under her ex’s power.

“It’s okay baby, you can cum for me now.”

Zendaya’s ability to read her body irks Y/n to no end, but all she cares about is having her permission to cum. She gets over being embarrassed about it feeling “too soon” to cum and lets go. Zendaya kisses her thigh as Y/n creams on her fingers. Arousal seeps out through any tight space it can manage to. It feels so obscene to watch it happen up close. Zendaya leans in and licks the exposed parts of her fingers, and Y/n’s clit in the process. Y/n shivers from the feeling.

“Good girl,” Zendaya coos. Her gingers slide out and she admires how messy Y/n is, “you look so pretty like this. This pussy cums so much for me.”

Y/n was embarrassed, but it’s true. Just because they haven’t been together in a while doesn’t mean Zendaya forgot how to play her body. She remembers every single thing that sets her off. Her thighs tremble and she tries to shut them, but fails because of Zendaya’s body placed between her legs.

“Z,” she whines. She’s out of breath, but she knows Zendaya wants more out of her.

“I know baby,” she kisses her inner thigh again. “I know it’s too much, but you can take it. I love you so much, you’re such a good girl.”

Zendaya stands up, ready to press herself against Y/n, but not before unbuttoning her shirt. Underneath is a familiar white tank top. It looks like any regular tank top, but Y/n notices the shad near the shoulder which is evidence of a time when she got too carried away. She can never help herself when Zendaya is feverishly going down on her, or filling her up to the point she feels like she’s being split in half. When it just feels too good, all Y/n can do is whine for her.

“Too much,” she cries, yet she’s opening her legs again.

Zendaya’s embrace is soothing but her body is so close to Y/n’s that it has her riled up. Her comment about it being ‘too much’ begins to sound like a lie when she starts gyrating her hips. Her pussy was looking for pleasure again, so Zendaya gave it to her. She pulls Y/n close to the edge and places her leg between her thigh. Y/n instantly begins to grind against her; humping wildly. She reaches her hand down between them and begins to rub her through her pants. Her movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, but she wants to make Zendaya feel good too.

The two engage in a sloppy dance of admiration. Y/n can’t help but feel a little guilty about letting this happen. She’s strong until the very last minute where she destroys her own boundaries just for a taste of pleasure.

She would’ve suffocated in it if it wasn't for the obnoxious ringer interrupting the two of them. She whines embarrassingly loud when Zendaya pulls her leg away and she Y/n no longer feels any pressure on her clit.

“Shit.”

Zendaya is just as annoyed as Y/n when she realizes that the ringing is coming from her back pocket. She doesn’t want to answer, but with a sigh she reaches into her back pocket to see who is interrupting them. She hoped it was just someone a part of her team or a family member she wouldn’t mind sending to voicemail. However, the name on the screen made her heart race, and she knew she couldn’t miss it.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Her tone changes completely causing Y/n to become curious. She has heard Zendaya talk on the phone with family, friends, and manager so many times before that she knows what the distinction is. The way she answered the phone is reminiscent of a time where their relationship was something new.

Y/n can hear the voice on the other side of the phone, but she can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Zendaya’s face is hard to read which just agitates her even more. The feeling in the pit of her stomach makes her feel dizzy and nauseous.

“No, no, I didn’t forget I just got caught up with something.”

Something.

Zendaya had to turn away from Y/n as she spoke on the phone. She was desperate to end the call, knowing that she was in the wrong, but she was stuck. She won’t be able to face Y/n once she ends the call.

“Okay…okay…sounds good…I’ll see you soon.”

Neither of them look at each other. Y/n hops off the counter and pulls down her skirt. She feels like someone’s mistress, but it isn’t fair. She was here first, and she always will be here.

“Y/n-“

“It’s okay. You can go.”

Y/n doesn’t turn around to face her which makes Zendaya feel even worse. It’s truly both of their faults for getting themselves into this mess and playing this game, but Zendaya can’t help but feel like she bears most of the burden. She shouldn’t be seeing anyone else while trying to figure things out with Y/n.

Nothing else is said between the two as Zendaya gathers her things and Y/n lets her out the front. She’ll be back tomorrow, Y/n is sure of it, but she hopes that they can both get their shit together by then.

[nohoney]

rlly want to know how the break up talk in your us series drabble (which i occasionally reread honestly ur such a great writer!!) would’ve turned out if touya and keigo hadn’t alr known about the reader’s plan to breakup!!

this ask was one of the first questions i received about us series! this one i had to sit down and think over for a bit and i’m so flattered that you guys want to delve into these different possibilities with the series!

It’s scary how quiet they are.

It’s frightening how loud the silence is.

It’s terrifying that you reached the point of having to tell them, “I want to break up.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you try to remain calm as you wait for a horrible reaction to come. There’s going to be some yelling involved, you know that there is, and you’ve been bracing yourself for weeks to have this confrontation. All the kisses, hugs, and sex you’ve had with them the past month made you feel guilty. It’s not that love wasn’t there anymore; it’s that the type of love you’re being given wasn’t good for you.

“Why?” Touya asks you, eerily calm as his gaze makes you even more nervous. “Why do you want to break up?”

Because of all the fighting, the arguments, that everything you ask for is being made as an impossible task for them to do for you. Because you’re tired of being upset and pretending like you were fine once a poor attempt of a make up is done. It’s all valid reasons you list to them.

“You know that’s all things we can work on,” Keigo does exactly what you expect him to do, to act as damage control to make sure things stay the same, “it’s not that we don’t see it. We feel bad when you get upset.”

That’s very much true, you know that, but they don’t feel bad enough to want to be better.

Keigo talks but your attention is more on Touya. His silence was not expected when you asked to meet them at this pond in a residential neighborhood. You planned to meet them separately and not be in any personal space to have this conversation, especially since you couldn’t afford for your neighbors to complains about your arguments again. Yelling is what you expected to happen. You thought there would be some pushback or some aggression but this stoic silence was not something you were prepared for.

“See, why do you do this? It feels like I try to get through to you but you don’t care what I have to say.” Keigo sighs out with an edge of frustration. “It’s like you don’t care that I’m here sometimes.”

Keigo’s words surprise you and you set your eyes on him instead. “What do you mean? I’m with the both of you! Of course I care!”

“Then why were you looking at Touya when I was talking? Did you hear anything I had to say? It has to be all about what we’re doing wrong but when I’m talking about myself, you don’t pay attention.”

You know what he’s doing, you know what Keigo is doing, he’s turning it around that you feel bad. As charming as he was with his words, he was equally cruel in using them too. But how can you argue against him when he was also speaking his truth too? What justification do you have to tune him out to look at Touya instead?

Trying to remember to be strong in your conviction, you try to muster up the words to get this conversation over with. You decided that this is over and being with them is no longer healthy for you. “I’m sorry Keigo, you’re right that I should have been listening to you. I just don’t think that we’re all good together anymore. I always feel like I’m being ganged up on and that you guys are-“

“So you don’t do anything wrong? Ever? You’ve never hurt our feelings or done something to make us upset?” Touya jumps in and you feel less sure about yourself now that he’s spoken up. “You know that we dote on you equally but you’re always switching up on when you play favorites? And we’ve never said anything about it?”

You know what’s happening, you know what they’re doing, but you’re starting to lose footing in your conviction. “I-I do not! Look, this is about me and how I want-“

“It’s always about you! Everything we do is for you and you’re ungrateful!” Touya snaps at you, “How many times have you had a tantrum over something small and we let it go? How many times have you driven off in one of our cars when you’re pissed off and we never revoked your access to using them still? Why is it that you’re all over Keigo when we’re fighting but then you’re so keen on me once everything is fine between us?”

Fuck, it’s all truth he’s telling you and he’s derailing you from the main point! But Touya is overwhelming you with guilt over things that you also don’t apologize for either or even things you didn’t know you had to apologize for. And he pushes you to tears and the conviction you built for slowly crumbles so easily. It falls apart like a kicked over sand castle and the routine of a fight settles in like it usually does. Maybe you could never win against the both of them together.

“Touya, lower your voice. This isn’t the place to be upset. Now c’mere dove,” Keigo comes to the rescue like usual and without even thinking, you seek him out as he pulls you into that comforting hug that you’ve grown to be so familiar with, “if you’re upset with us, it’d be nice if we got a heads up. Breaking up without giving us a chance to fix anything isn’t fair, right?”

His hands are warm as they rub your back to soothe you and then another hand pets the top of your head, knowing that it belongs to Touya. Your eyes peek up at him briefly only to look back down. You feel weak all over again, hurting because of them, but also wanting to be comforted by them all the same. “Look, you have every right to be mad at us. We’re not saying you’re allowed,” Touya speaks to you with a gentle caress of his hand, his fingers threading through your hair and carefully massaging the headache he knows you’re having, “but at least try to see it from our end what you put us through too.”

You wear the blame again for another fight happening. That apparently you ignore Keigo more than you thought and they’re so generous to let you get away with so much.

“Oh doll, look at you. You’re all upset now, how are you supposed to drive yourself back to our home now?” Touya sighs out, leaning down to kiss at your temple before he assigns Keigo to care for you. “Drive her car back for her, you know how she gets when she’s upset. She can’t really get behind the wheel. Who do you want to go with, doll?”

You want to choose Keigo to be with because he’ll baby you exactly the way you want to be when you’re upset. But then again, now it’s only going to be seen as you only needing Keigo for comfort and eventually choosing Touya once all the tension is leveled out. You sniffle and only shrug your shoulders, deciding that if you make your own decision that it’s going to backfire or be used as ammunition in a later fight. So you might as well let them choose for you.

“Alright, I’ll have you come with me.” Touya decides for you, asking for your car keys to hand to Keigo. “Drive safe, alright?”

You’re sitting in the passenger side of Touya’s car, still sniffling from crying and worn out all over again. His hand goes from the gear shift to resting on your thigh, his fingers squeezing comfortably and you lay your hand on top of his. Fingers weave together through the spaces and the car ride is quiet at first.

“I’m sorry.” You say softly with your eyes looking out the window.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

[fizzingwizard]

life stuff

I did so many dumb things yesterday. Can't even remember them all now, but for one, I went to the wrong floor when I got home and even tried the key before I realized. I also went to a sushi place where you have color-coded plates, and I took a plate that wasn't my color. I have been going there for years and I've never not once done that before. Also at work I was just a basketcase who couldn't commit to anything.

Then today I made oatmeal, but apparently never turned the kettle on?? So I just poured ice cold water on my oats and uh yeah not appetizing. I just decided to starve until dinner 9_9

I'm a little perplexed by so many senior moments, but I think it just means I'm a lot more tired than I realized. It was a tough week. Many teachers were out sick. Including a teacher who quit for (highly legitimate) personal reasons just last week, we were missing four to five teachers nearly every day. We didn't have one day with a full staff. It's also conference season so I had a ton going on, and my kids were unusually difficult. I think it's a combo of them all being sick but not sick enough to stay home, and my challenging students just having some extra challenges, and everything happening at the same time. I've also been under the weather in a weird nebulous way: various symptoms, overall fatigue, no fever, but lasting weeks and weeks. Can't call out for it as much as I want to. Wednesday was alright but every other day was like wow, welcome to hell. Though I shouldn't say that because hell would be a kid getting hurt. No injuries, no disasters, just a very tired and frustrated teacher.

Because of all the teacher absences, those of us who were here every day got slapped with a lot more on-duty time and just stints of break here and there. We couldn't even get what's in our contracts a couple days, which always pisses me off because I'm literally not getting paid for one hour that I'm at work. And the company doesn't want us to do overtime of course bc they have to pay us for it. (They are known for "forgetting" to account for overtime hours as well so everyone double checks their paychecks). Yet we've been understaffed all year, so in order to not pay for overtime, they just send teachers from another nearby school to ours to help. One of my coworkers always insists on apologizing to them. I'm not apologizing. I didn't do it. Let the company apologize. I'll thank the other school for helping (not that they have a choice) but tbh it'd be better if they said it was impossible, then the company might actually hire a full time teacher. Oh btw last year when several of us were helping the other school when their teacher left on paternity leave for the rest of the year, no one thanked us. In face they mostly just forgot about us and looked surprised every time we turned up (biweekly! for months!) to do the job they told us they needed us to do

Anyway I told the manager that as much as I understand why break/prep time is limited when there are many teacher absences, it looked as though time had been redistributed without any thought about equality. Wed's hours were a mess, but I let it slide because I thought I could fix it to be okay for Friday. Well, someone else was out on Fri, and the time was redistributed again and I had less for the whole week than everyone else. Now there are a few factors: some teachers work longer hours than others but make "the same" pay (I put it in quotes because some of the contracts are a little different and I don't know the details, but it's roughly similar anyway). A teacher who is at the school for 7 hours has gets the same off-duty time as ones who are there for 8 or 9. But if it's okay to give more off-duty time to 9 hr teachers than 7 hr ones, that's never been expressed. And because 7 hr teachers go home before the least staffed period of the day, it's the 8 hr teacher who end up with less off-duty time because there are fewer opportunities to take it. The ones that come earlier than 4 pm have to go to the 7 hr teacher first. The ones that come after 5 pm are only available to the 9hr (which sucks for them because who wants to not have a break till after 5? they do usually get some break earlier as well but it's shorter).

Overall the distribution is unfair and dumb even when it's done according to the books. We used to have a couple leaders who would point out when things were too tight or not fair to whoever, but they both quit in the mass exodus of last year. I thought I could point it out and the manager would say "oh sorry, I'll keep an eye on that for the future." I didn't expect my schedule to be changed, just that promise. Instead the manager first said it was fine that I had less off-duty time than everyone else because I had conferences (??? our contracts don't change when there are conferences - or do they? lol well if they do it was never a problem any other year before now...). So I was like not really, and she proceeded to give me a bit of someone else's prep, the teacher who had the most for the week, only I found out later that that teacher wasn't feeling well that day. She may have been given the extra time due to her condition, and because I brought it up, she lost it. But I had no idea she wasn't feeling well. When I found out, I tried to trade with her, but she refused every time. It's just 15 min we're talking about. What does it say to you when teachers feel guilty all day long for having 15 min of prep time that could have been someone else's? fuck everything

Also only found out later that another coworker spent all of her prep time onboarding a new teacher. New teacher, hurrah, whatever, it's fucking January already but sure. Well, that coworker could have used a little extra off-duty time as well. But nobody bothers to tell Fizz. I would have happily traded off-duty time with her as well but I'm not pyschic my dude. I'm just not.

While I'm complaining let me sandwich in another annoyance. The other class decided they wanted to do a certain project. They began work on the project, but then got told by the manager that they had to include my class, because what they were doing was big enough to be unfair if only one class got to participate. Since they had already begun work, it was taken for granted that my class would just be doing the project as well now. No one asked if that was alright with me. No one asked if I wanted to edit or add anything. Actually, no one even TOLD ME WHAT WE WERE DOING. The other class teacher told my co-teacher the project was happening, but not the details. I waited two weeks, nothing, so finally I had to go ask them what the heck this was about, and they then told ME what to do. Absolutely no interest in what I might think about it at all. They decided, so I just have to do it. I could argue, of course! But like every time I have the audacity to disagree with Things That Someone Has Decided, I'd just be seen as making trouble for no reason. The project is good for the kids, so it's not easy to be against it. And I'm not against it. But I do feel disrespected. Like did it occur to no one that I, also a classroom teacher, might already have my own project in mind for my class??? If this had happened in reverse, then as soon as I knew my project was going to be expected of another class as well, I would have gone and talked to that class's teachers. I would have asked for their input and changes and I would have been fully prepared, no matter how unlikely it was, for the possibility that they just wouldn't want to do it at all. Because it's their class and i don't make decisions about their class. "But it's a cute project for little kids" blah blah everything we do is a cute project for little kids. IT'S STILL WORK FOR TEACHERS. Kill me for preferring the projects I chose and put effort into instead of projects someone else picked out without even asking my opinion. And I'm still doing it! I haven't made a scene! But was it really too much to expect at least "sorry about this" or "do you want to change anything"?? I really saw red for a while.

I'm fed up with my job in a lot of ways and I want to switch. But I don't know where to go. Finding somewhere new will mean starting over from base salary which is even lower than what I make now. The more tiring and demanding the work becomes, the less the pay makes it feel worth it. No one becomes a pre-k teacher to get rich. We like little kids. But there sure are a lot of expectations of teacher's the schools are basically throwing peanuts at. The perk, yeah, is the time off. But since it's only during cold months I never really do anything with it. It was nice to go home over the holidays, but I couldn't afford to do it every year whether I had the time off or not lol.

I honestly don't know what to do right now and it's making me extra anxious. Just hoping something will fall into my lap hahaha great strategy there. Glassdoor sends me useless spam every day :) Even got one saying I'd be a "perfect fit" to teach Christian ed to the kids of a traveling circus x'D

[vvatchword]

I'm tired of writing this already because my Dr. Lamb is either the most boring, unemotive, or noble person imaginable. This is the whole reason I have been avoiding her section. The reason: Dr. Lamb is, and has always been, a huge nothingburger. In-game, she's just That Way. She doesn't BECOME That Way, she just is, and it's arguable she has always been so. There's even an audio diary that suggests she has had designs on Rapture since time immemorial (lol wat).

This is because BioShock 2 is a fucked-up attempt at a Christian gnostic allegory and Dr. Sofia Lamb is a stand-in for the Aeon Sophia. It's awful for a lot of reasons that I'll get into someday--not the least reason for which is that THE LITERAL AEON SOPHIA IS IN THE FUCKING GAME. The allegory cannot fucking work if you just stick the actual fucking Aeon Sophia alongside your allegorical symbol for the Aeon Sophia. Then it's not an allegory, is it? That said, 2K Marin probably made this game without sleeping or regular human contact so they can be forgiven for a lot.

Anyway, I decided to start her as an Objectivist and a human being, if an extremely autistic and traumatized one, and move her left.

What makes a person decide to be an Objectivist and isolate oneself on the bottom of the ocean is equally present in certain individuals and movements on the left: it's a deep insecurity and a sense of powerlessness because one can't control what other people do. So if you can't control other people, you CAN try to minimize their impact on you and just straight-up leave. It's the completely futile effort to control as many environmental factors as possible to make the least surprising world possible.

Where this impulse heads into toxic territory is when these kinds of people get really frustrated and just try to apply force. "ALL Y'ALL BETTER JOIN THE CLUB OR I'M GETTING THE BAT"

So... where do I exhibit this toxic behavior in Lamb? And why doesn't it feel natural to me? I've actually given her more emotive states than she has in-game. She's more reserved, to be sure, but she still fucking feels things and is motivated by those feelings, even if she lies to herself about it. Moreover, one cannot be reserved 100% of the time. One will and can snap, and sometimes those kinds of people snap in nasty ways because they're keeping most of their stress inside and hidden.

I suppose I should make her a little more toxic from the beginning. I've actually made her extremely sensible. I try to give most of my characters laudable traits, even if they're pure fuckers--issues they're right about or ways they're competent and skilled. I may have made her TOO competent and sensible. She may be too boring for fiction, idk. There's a reason nobody in fandom likes to write about her. We all know somebody just like her irl and we try to escape them as quickly as possible; we don't want to actually write about their judgy holier-than-thou asses for any length of time.

I'm very frustrated about this and I'm not sure how to fix it. It feels like a systemic issue, like a flaw or behavior that should be present from the beginning. I should probably try and make her more controlling from the beginning, but that'll take some rewriting and editing... guhhhhhh. Not during NaNo.

I might brainstorm some weird shit that I could make her do to fuck up the story a bit and see what seems natural and sticks.

I mean, if you have an idea, or have read a story with Lamb in it that you think is particularly good, hit me up ok

[thetrashbagswasteland]

Ten Random Lines Tag

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics/writing projects, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag people (ten if you want to follow the theme).

Tagged by @korblez and @wintersstreams (ty!)

Tagging @otemporanerys @equusgirl @drumsandwaves and ofc anyone else who wants to play along!

I'm cheating of course bc I'm allergic to writing decent sentences so:

The Seasick Pirate (Aka: Sunseeker!Kaidan's adventures in space) “This is The Waterloo, please state your name and business, we mean you no harm. I assure you we mean you no harm.” He repeated in desperation. Static answered them and, as he thought the strange spaceship was about to ram right the way through them, suddenly, there was a change in the static. “-aterooo?” Hissed a voice.

Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 9: The Noose Around Your Neck (Aka: Beating Sunseeker!Avitus with a baseball bat) “Then I’d say that’s not justice.” She folded her arms across her chest, letting the accusation weigh. “But besides that, I’m not willing to let the reapers claim another life. There has to come a point where they stop getting to win.”

Beyond Familiar Stars - Chapter 8: 2828 part 3, Relapse (Aka: Beating regular Avitus with the baseball bat) Did he? Did he really want to entertain that suspicion? Avitus would have liked to say that, no, he didn’t. That he knew his people were better than that but… shit. “If you’d been a month later arriving on Havarl…” He met Sara’s eyes, seeing tired resignation there and hoping she could read just the same in his. “I think you’d have found things you wouldn’t have liked.”

Follow My Lead - Chapter 4: Pleading With Powers Which Are Not Real (Aka: Beating regular Castis with that baseball bat since we own it) “His loss is a just statistic.” He finished, hating that the synthetic was right, that he did feel better for talking. “There are millions of his kind, living and dying just as he did. Billions, across every organic race, I imagine. Good people, excellent soldiers regardless of their convictions and upbringings, who will die because an uncaring force we cannot stop demands they do. I will remember Fario for the rest of my life. My daughter too, I suspect. After us though, he will be forgotten, like the rest of his kind. But when the dust settles and our ashes are blown to the wind, who will remember us all?” The hoard let him talk himself into silence, strange, glowing lights focused on him just as a living creatures eyes might. But… it was alive. They were alive, regardless of how uncomfortable that fact made him. “We will.” They said, at last. “We do not forget important data. So we will remember everyone.”

Take The Very Best Of Me (Aka: The baseball bat is hanging over Avitus' head but we haven't hit him much yet) “I’m well aware some people will think I let him stick his dick in me so he lets me talk back without consequences because that’s exactly why I did it.” His eyes were distant, glazed over with some thought he wasn’t quite willing to voice. “That doesn’t answer my question though; does it bother you personally?” It was none of his business what he got up to. Not in the slightest. But… “It does.” His mouth said, even as he’d been trying to formulate a negative response to that question.

A Little Too Much Like Me (Aka: The spectres/C-sec teambuilding paintball-playing no-reapers AU that's occupied the best half of my brain for a month now) Shepard hummed indecisively, tilting her head to one side. “Technically no. The competition isn’t over.” Ah crap. “Shepard, honey…” Garrus met her eyes, equal parts teasing and pleading — just how she liked it best. “Would you really shoot me?”

Untitled (Pre-Andromeda BFS companion piece which needs a name and a plot because it's just dialogue atm) Now he’d had time to cool off, he was doubtless worried sick about the brat. For all that Garrus had been a constant source of frustration and concern to him, Castis had still adored his son and would have done anything for him if he only asked. He likely wasn’t coping well with any part of this. “You want me to find him, don’t you?” He sighed, wishing it wasn’t so plainly what she was after. “I know you have resources at your disposition which we don’t…” She hesitated. “He doesn’t know I’ve contacted you, nor do I intend to tell him unless you want me to.” For the first time, Macen spoke, shifting uncomfortably beside him as he clearly guessed just where his thoughts were headed. “Avi…” Yeah, yeah, he knew just what he meant. Avitus cut off whatever he’d been about to come out with with a gentle headbutt and a growl to shut up before he looked back to the comms screen. “I’m sorry, Rems, I’m no longer any of that. Resigned after they tried to make me drag Saren's memory through muck to sate the damned media. I... probably don’t have much more going for me than you do right now.”

Wipe My Hands Clean - Chapter 8: The Fools Morals (Aka: Also hitting Sunseeker!Macen with a baseball bat whilst it's in hand) The old turians expression was calculating, as if this were an abstract puzzle and not a life they were talking about. “Will you commit treason for a dead man, Captain Barro?” For Avitus? He’d do it in a heartbeat and he wouldn’t regret it. Well there was a realisation. It’d been so easy, up until that point. 

A Little Too Much Like Me (again) “Sounds liberating.” Garrus felt safe admitting that much. “I don’t want to get her in trouble either but… is it egotistical that I don’t want to be my dad?” “You mean you don’t want to be sixty-three and stuck in a dead-end job with no hope of promotion because Venari Pallin knows you play house with the enemy?” Rix snorted, then looked away from him. “It’s a dream, kid, and you’ll see that eventually.” “It doesn’t look like a dream come true.” He looked down the scope once more to avoid showing how uncomfortable this conversation was rapidly becoming, as if he hadn’t been the one to make it that way.

Follow My Lead - Chapter 6: Recover Our Pride (Aka: We're here, so let's also use the baseball bat on Daddy Ryder's memory) “Ryder’s pet project?” Shepard, of all people, said, frown evident. “They made it out in time?” “I believe so.” He suddenly wondered just why the name was familiar to her. “Did you know the admiral?” “Nope.” The last syllable was pronounced with far too much disgust. “Nobody knew admiral Ryder, Castis, he never existed, legally.” That… What? “I can assure you Alec did exist.” He pointed out, trying not to be uncomfortable with that after everything. “The alliance erased every record of his career.” She said flippantly. “They were pissed after the council found out about their AI experiment on Luna, especially since it brought to light his private-sector work. So they drop-kicked him back to nowhere, stripped him of his N-designation and then gave him a dishonourable discharge to really rub salt in his wounds.”

[avese23]

I read this three times and still can barely see how you missed the point so terribly and normally I would correct you kindly but this is not an academic space and this is about the honor of lesbians so claws open, friend.

OP didn’t mention sex. OP mentioned women. I didn’t mention sex. I mentioned lesbians.

Only you brought up sex. You saw the word lesbian and your mind jumped to sex. Put your angry typing thumbs down and examine that.

Now either you’ve blocked me, tuned me out, or maybe you’re still reading. Comprehension, that’s sexy of you. We can work with that.

OP from reasonable assumption, was discussing the phenomenon of people who primarily drift toward male characters but have internalized misandry beating them out of shape cuz how could anything masculine be positive? We need to feminize him. Here warps the misandry into misogyny as you see tumblr users turning “post your favorite female character” posts into “well, he’s a woman to me.” Hence frustration, especially because often times character traits seen as charitable and tropable in male characters are received with annoyance or hatred when seen in female characters. If you’re still paying attention, what’s your favorite color? Hence OPs point.

I, picking up on this context, could see where OP is coming from. The internet do be misogynistic. The internet also struggles with shame around liking men. A lot of spaces are one skip away from transmisogynist rhetoric, it’s concerning. Anywho, as someone who rarely sees this problem off the internet I offered a positive to the vent.

A little tongue in cheek but also great fucking advice. Because if you’re sick of people putting male characters on a pedestal there’s nothing like a lesbian to reinstate your faith in feminist approaches to media. Not because they have “temporary desires” (also what are you smoking?? cuz I get that I’m demi but you’re the first person aside from cis men named Brad I’ve heard call any feeling toward a woman a temporary desire.) but because however sick the average person might be of the gender gap in media, lesbians are more sick of it. Google “heteronormativity,” talk to anyone about the exhaustion of having men thrown at you when you’ve dedicated yourself to a lifestyle based on who you are as a person that specifically centers women. As people. Cuz lesbians are people. Repeat that for me if you’re listening.

Regarding the quotation you’ve put…(which, no clue where you got that from? Like genuinely did you reblog from the wrong post by mistake? If so feel free to delete this and block me cuz this would be very funny content if the dignity of my fellow dykes. Like I was upsetty for a second but this is the second most amusing tumblr mix up I’ve gotten so no hard feelings) you seem to be under the assumption that I don’t like lesbians?? Or that people who lesbians aren’t attracted to cant like lesbians?? Which is weird cuz lesbians are objectively cool af. And my ace gf is a lesbian who I’m very attracted to so…again I don’t know where you’re drawing your sparks from.

Tbh I don’t blame you if you haven’t gotten this far. My brain is on tired mode and your response was so off target that this is less even about responding to you and more my adhd hyperfixating on close reading your text in some futile attempt to see what straws you were grasping. I haven’t had time to get to my sociology tbr and I don’t have an essay due till next week so this was genuinely engaging for my brain. I can’t solve the puzzle of what mistake you made but maybe you have so rejoice to that. OP sorry this is on your post I do not know where they came from but I think I’ve shooed them off lol.

Anywho. Why are you still reading. Despite my greatest efforts I am not a lesbian. I’m an equally sexy dyke but not the same kind. Now go befriend a lesbian! This person is stalling for some reason but you don’t have to. Go talk about how Kylo Ren would have been more engaging if he was written as a woman. Go talk about how Faith Lehane deserved better. Go talk about how Harrowhark is trying her very best and needs a hug but please ask before touching.

And remember the three tenants:

1. Be respectful to lesbians. Implying they’re only about women for the sex is a harmful homophobic stereotype. Also if it were true my besties would be dating but we have a bookclub group chat where they perform literary analysis over fictional instead of flirting. Maybe this poster shouldn’t talk to them if you’re gonna be offensive. They’re busy reading.

2. If you want a meaningful relationship with anyone using terms like “temporary desires” is not a way to do it. “Oh but I don’t do that romance or sex stuff” ok but you can try doing the empathy and common sense stuff. Other people won’t find your dismissal of their sexuality “a flex.” It will make finding friends hard

3. If you’re having trouble explaining a point…maybe the point isn’t ready to be out yet. Don’t embarrass yourself by butting into a conversation that’s nothing to do with the frustration in your head. If you don’t like explaining things, or drawing off of actual sources, go to twitter. This might not be the site for you. There are a lot of lesbians here (ooo espooky) and women who know how to read (eee scary) and like to befriend each other (le gasppp) it can be a lot 😔 <- this is irony btw

"he's like a woman to me!!!" not true because if he was a woman to you you wouldn't give a fuck about him

[hanjsquokka]

you have me.

seo changbin × gn!reader — fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship

warnings — mild swearing, kinda angsty?, kissing

word count — 0.8k +

author's note — this is very self-indulgent, based on what happened to me this past week :( kinda feel better after i wrote this, but i would feel even more better if i got a binnie hug 😔. [not proofread]

“Maybe I'm just not meant to have friends,” you muttered, breaking the quiet of your bedroom as you laid on the cool mattress. Your hair ticked your nose as it moved slightly from the breeze from the air conditioner, making you feel even worse. You almost thought Changbin had fallen asleep beside you, tired from his long day at work, until you felt the mattress dip right next to your shoulder from his elbow as he leaned over you.

“Why do you think that?” He asked, turning you to face him.

You didn't want to elaborate.

The week had been hard for you, he knew that.

Last weekend, you'd come home early from a night out with friends, surprising him and Felix, who'd come over to hang out with him since you wouldn't be there. You managed a half-hearted reply with an equally unenthusiastic smile and burrowed into the warmth of your bed as soon as you stepped into the bedroom. Your boyfriend had joined you a few minutes later after sending his band member on his way home, probably telling him that he'd take him out for lunch the next day before he padded to the bedroom and sat beside your curled up form.

You didn't tell him what was wrong that day either.

“Baby,” Changbin brought you back to the present with a feathery touch of his fingers across your cheek, brushing away the strands of hair you'd been frustrated at. “You can talk to me, y'know? Our relationship doesn't just mean me ranting about how Jisung annoyed me all day at practice.”

You laughed softly at that, meeting his eyes which were almost crescents since he was laughing too.

“There's that smile,” he said, making your heart flutter in your chest, pushing away those painful thoughts, even if it was just for a moment. “Now tell me what's wrong? You've been upset this whole week.”

“They brought Sohee to our hangout last weekend,” you told him after a long pause, your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke. The image of the girl you hated, for completely valid reasons, laughing along with your friends—it hurt you.

A lot.

“They did what?” Changbin sat up straight and pulled you up as well. You knew it was a rhetorical question, he knew everyone in your friend group and precisely why you hated your ex-friend.

“She was there at the restaurant when I showed up, talking about her stupid boyfriend. That guy is even more of a red flag than her,” you grumbled.

“Did they tell you they were inviting her?”

“No! They didn't. They specifically told me after I asked them, No we're not inviting her, and then proceeded to invite her!” You swallowed, your throat feeling tight. “It hurt.”

“Of course you're hurt,” he pulled you into his lap, your head made to rest on his strong shoulder as he stroked your hair. “That's just… mean.”

Your breath hitched. “I don't get… why they keep hanging out with her. She's so… awful, and they know it!” You inhaled sharply.

“So that's why you came home early… I was so surprised seeing you walk through the door when I just came back from dropping you off.” Changbin rested his chin on top of your head after planting a kiss on your crown.

“Yeah, I had a bit of a meltdown and I took a cab home. It took a lot to make myself go there,” You said, feeling a bit embarrassed recounting the argument you had in the middle of a busy restaurant. You didn't prefer eating out too much because you disliked social settings with a lot of people, like restaurants, but you were excited to meet your friends at a place you'd been dying to try out.

So much for that.

“You'll find better friends,” he said after a while. “Ones that don't continously disrespect your wishes. What is the word… ah right, girls’ girls?”

You giggled. “Yeah, that's the word.”

He smiled. “When you're up for it, I'll take you to that restaurant myself. And we'll get whatever you like, okay?”

Your eyes lit up. “Yeah, I'd love that.” He squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh. “You're crushing me.”

“Too bad I'm so strong, hm?” He replied cheekily and kissed your cheek. You laughed even more, not even trying to pretend you were annoyed like you did when he gave you his signature bone-crushing hugs whenever you felt down. “You don't need those fake ass friends when you have me, okay? And you'll find better ones. I know you will. Those idiots are the ones missing out on all your wonderful charm.” Your cheeks reddened from his unexpected compliment. “Ah, my cue to kiss you.” You laughed even more until he shut you up with a sweet kiss on your lips, effectively taking your mind off of your ex-friends.

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[keefwho]

October 25 - 2023 Wednesday

8:12am

I think I'm worried I'm still nourishing an unbalanced dynamic with people. I always used to see myself as the inferior one with friends and I'd put other people on a pedestal. I fear I am still doing that, even though I'm trying hard not to. I try to see myself as equals with people but sometimes their language or admissions suggest I am like a pet to them or that they generally hold power in the dynamic. It might be a case of giving too much as well. Maybe giving even though I don't receive back can give someone the impression that they deserve that from me so it becomes the norm. Then I get treated unfairly despite no one's intention to do so. Maybe I neglect my own social needs too much. I wear a mask and appease others so I can try to ensure they actually like me. I end up sacrificing a lot because it feels like no one is right for me. No one ever sticks. I feel doomed to always be the one giving just so I'm not alone.

3:29pm

As usual this time of day I just feel lonely. I feel hopeless and it's affecting my desire to do literally anything. I don't wanna put in any work if I only have more bland life to look forward to. I'm not sure how to even pretend like there is a better future waiting for me. I really do want to see the positive outcomes of anything I might do. Ideally right now I'd be having fun drawing the things I gotta do but it's hard to do that when I'm anticipating sorrow and misery in the near future.

6:15pm

I'm done drawing and I didn't even have good results. Now I'm lonely, tired, and disappointed in myself. This happens a lot.

10:51pm

This morning I had left over beef rice a roni for breakfast. I was very tired also since I've been losing small amounts of sleep every night for about a week. It's taken it's toll. I got to stream late after napping on my desk. I really didn't want to stream, I felt terrible. I felt like today was going to be like every other. Working on commissions I don't want to do, internally berating myself for not being able to really connect or relate with 570 or the rare others that show up, hoping Daisy will join at some point, and dreading the cleaning/workout I have to do after. I did the commission and the episodes of Mia and He-Man were good. Inktober didn't turn out great.

Afterwards I only had enough time for 30 minutes of wood chopping and a good chunk of that was spend getting a sled and looking for other things. I didn't get much done. I didn't clean too much after either, just my toilet some. In the shower I wanted release. I had a hard time figuring out what to do, I spent way too long in the shower. I bothered Daisy about it and felt bad after because I know she's at work and has a lot of other stuff going on. It's frustrating that we handle this so differently. When I'm under stress, my go to is to nut generally. It helps take my mind off of things and express my emotions in some ways. She seems to stray far from it during difficult times which is fine, just a way that we don't connect. I just don't want it to cause conflict at any point which it shouldn't if we're both understanding about how each other feels.

I didn't have much time for lunch so I made Ramen, a granola bar, and a pear cup. I got to my afternoon work late as well. I also had a hard time getting myself to do it but I found a lofi stream (I usually hate lofi), ambient rain noise, and I hopped in a call while I did today's request and a couple meme drawings that didn't turn out as well as I wanted.

Afterwards I booted up Legendary Tales and decided to stream while I waited for Daisy to be free because at this point I was lonely and just wanted to talk to her. No one showed up which made me feel even lonelier. I also lost my current character and had to start over but I worked up almost to where I was before.

When Daisy was free she worked on her costume for the con while we watched She Ra which is a great show, I'm excited to watch it. We watched the first 3 episodes. While she went to bed I played Cities Skylines. She was holding Rosalina for awhile, her pet rat who is near her time with a massive tumor on her neck. I feel extreme sorrow at her inevitable loss. I feel awful that Daisy is having such a hard time lately. I feel bad that I'm struggling lately too. I just wish I could do more to make things better but that's not my job and it's something I literally can't do. I can't change all the terrible things happening, I can only offer my support.

Lately I've been focusing on making sure I'm not suppressing my feelings again. That means admitting some uncomfortable truths about how I feel about certain things. It means really letting my reactions be how they are. It's scary being unfiltered because I feel like I have problems that WILL scare people away, even though this is a necessary step for me to get past them. I feel horrible that to most people I think I used to be more fun and care free to be around but now I'm so emotional and withdrawn. I feel like I have no social value because I can't really fit into any chill get togethers and I can't seem to actually care about anyone besides Daisy usually. I'm scared because I can't figure out why. I can't figure out why I can't accept new people into my life as friends. I can't figure out why I get so obsessive about things. I feel ashamed at myself and will be crying in bed tonight. But in a way that feels good because usually I try to hold it in or pretend like I should feel okay. Well I'm not okay, I have a lot to cry about. I have extreme amounts of fear and sadness and I have to let them out.

[thepaststillhurts]

@roarofancients:

Paw points towards Pride Rock, to get Simba to pay attention: Two tiny cubs ran out of the King's Den, the orange-furred one with the bright green eyes stopped momentarily when hearing his big brother's "Brother, please wait!" On which the younger sat looking towards them. Once they were close beside him, the green-eyed cub's expression was that of tired. But not tired of sleep, but also unhappy. "I'm just... tired of all the family bickering, on everything. Sure Mother can calm everyone down most of the time, but it's frustrating Father. And both of you can tell how much those fights have been affecting me, Muffy" The older brother had a more sad concerned expression, "I do wish there was more I could do about it... But, I understand why you need to go off to be alone. Parents are too busy right now, my job is to keep watch on you in these situations. Go for it, take as long as you need brother." The two share a cub hug before the younger runs off. The direction was that Shadowy Place of the Elephant Graveyard, yet shortly after that such bickering sounded from within Pride Rock. Food, Territory, lionesses still choosing other males other than the challengers' winners... even some arguing could be heard of which of the two cub brothers should be King.

The group head to the Elephant Graveyard, the cub that would be Scar is very similar in looks to both Kovu and Simba as a cub, but younger given his size. They could wager he was about the age Kiara was when she first met cub Kovu. Curious cub explored the area. A hyena, a young adult appeared. Yet she had two young cubs with her, her own cubs curious about the lion cub visitor. "No place for a lion, really. Yet, not the first time you've come here. My young wish to play with you, is that allowed?" "Sure, as long as they mind their jaws' strengths. I... mostly am wondering whether the other social groups have similar issues to... at home, so much bickering... arguing, fighting... on and over literally everything..." The hyena mother showed a similar expression to a lion's concerned one. "Take as long as you need, to play. These two are sisters, the older one is Anasa the younger one is called Shenzi. I'll keep watch; the rest of my clan isn't as friendly as myself. Even to our own kind..." Shakes her head a second but keeps to her word. The cub play did actually have the lion cub feeling better, laughing also with them. But one day with such a visit and game, the young mother hyena told them to run. Run they did, the hyena cubs hiding in some holes big enough to hide them. Lion cub had to run far, having been chased by strange lions ended up away from home. Lost, yet discovered a wolf pack much like Alpha's species but different. The pack, knowing the cub was little threat to them allowed him to follow them around and eat scraps. One young mother wolf even made sure he got enough to eat. Eventually, he allowed her to get close enough to him that she started treating him as if he was one of her own pups. Carefully carrying him to her own pups, "He is to stay with us until he is ready to go back to his family, as such he should be treated as an equal to our own kin." The female wolf gave their pack a firm slight snarl-glare shutting down the possible protestors. "If the need arises, the two ally kingdoms of Jackals and the Cape Dogs respectively can keep our young safe while we deal with those trying to claim our territory"

@thepaststillhurts:

It was a weird feeling for Simba to be part of the past and see their own father as cub. And as he looked at them he had to realize he didn't know much about the family bickering. Neither Mufasa nor Scar told him much about their sibling relationship, maybe because it was too painful for both of them, and on the other hand, probably Simba as cub would have been too young to understand.

"I lost my father too soon to have a talk with him about what happened - and I was too young." He commented. "But this may be a key to Scar." He added, pondering.

[the-muse-coven]

"Sometimes it feels like I don't even want to be the 'hero' anymore." Aether muttered, vindictive. He was the savior, the hero, the one people came to when they needed something, when they wanted him for something.

"I just wanted help finding my sister. I didn't want to get embroiled in this world's conflicts." He grumbled, his shoulders sagging as if he had a great weight on them. Which in a way, he did. He was stuck here, getting embroiled in each conflict at each nation he visited to follow after his sister and try to get her back. The Archons were barely even any help.

...He considered what Osial said, all he can offer is to raze it to the ground? It was...very tempting. Aether was so tired of having to sacrifice so much of the efforts he wanted to spend finding his sister to help others, to help people, only to receive barely even the minimum in response to aide him. Mondstadt had put up missing persons posters, while Venti had simply ushered him off to Liyue, where he'd gotten embroiled again in Zhongli faking his own death, and then the Fatui had summoned Osial, and he'd had to help take the Ancient God down. Zhongli in response had offered him nothing, at least Ping had given him a mobile place which he could comfortably stay. He'd moved onto Inazuma, only to be embroiled in the rebellion there, finding out about the Delusions the Fatui made and distributed to vision-less people, on how people simply forgot themselves when their visions were taken. He'd challenged and beat Signora in a duel before the throne, where she'd died.

And now...Sumeru, where Irminsul had been corrupted, causing wither zones, Elazar, and to have Divine Knowledge to drive people to complete and utter madness. He'd had to help them fix it, had his dreams harvested for data by the Akasha. Only to at the very end know the truth of how it was fixed and be unable to tell anyone, because they simply wouldn't believe him. All they would know is that Buer had always been Kusanali, and that Rukadhavata had never existed. All while learning what happened to Khaenri'ah and its people because of Celestia.

Paimon wasn't with him for once, and so just this one time, Aether could say what he wanted to say, his actual thoughts, without feeling like he was going to be spoken over.

He worked his jaw, following Osial's line of sight to Guyun Stone Forest and the sea, "...If my powers weren't sealed by some Unknown God...I might take you up on that offer." He said, carefully, but with the drag of so much behind the few syllables, and so much information just offered in those few words. The blond moved closer to where Osial was, not encroaching completely on what little space Osial had, but just enough that he could better follow the Old god's line of vision better, his equally golden eyes almost vacant as he stared out, swirling with a maelstrom of different threads of thought.

"For once...I don't want things that an Archon can offer. I don't want the notions of freedom from Barbatos, I don't want words of sage wisdom from Morax, I don't want tentative advice from Buer. I don't want the straightforward ideals of Eternity from Baal." He muttered, "I want the advice of someone from a bygone era of Gods. Because nobody here beyond maybe Morax, knows what I do. I'm not even sure you know what happened, when I helped Buer with Irminsul."

Aether fell quiet, chest heaving out a frustrated breath, "And if advice is not what you are able to offer. Then offer something beyond razing the world that you can. Even simply facing you again, like this instead of as it happened in Liyue." He said, letting his tone do as it pleased, frustration bleeding into every word.

@the-muse-coven asked: “ i’m sick and tired of being the one who has to make the sacrifices! ” - (Frustrated Aether! Context: main verse, post-Sumeru Archon Quest line)

"And it is to me you come to air your complaints..." There is an amused tone behind his words as Osial looks upon the otherwordly traveller, head tipping to his side. It does not escape him how ridiculous the concept it is, being one of the foes who most likely forced sacrifice, or at least a giving on the part of the hero.

"I cannot offer you anything you want to hear. I am not Morax with wisdoms to impart, nor Barbatos with his notions of freedom... I am no archon. Just a vengeful god of a bygone age who has been vanquished again."

He turns to look over Guyun Stone Forest and out to the expanse of the sea, contemplative as he retreats into his thoughts. "All I can offer you is raze it all to the ground. But that's not what you heroes do now, is it?"