#and i am putting way more i to this than i personally have
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I was going to put this in the tags but it's long enough and a direct response that I think I should just add it here.
Yes, to all of this, unironically and unhesitatingly.
For what it's worth for everything I'm about to say, I am a licensed social worker and am currently employed as a mental health clinician. But I have not done any research on this personally and don't have sources at the moment to back this theory up (im going to look into that today actually. I'm curious to see what I find.) This is just all speculation from a professional, so take that for what it's worth. I'll try to add some sources later when I'm not on mobile.
See I agree with what was stated up above about anxiety and depression. I also think its possible it could apply to diagnoses considered less "general," like adhd.
Example. I was recently diagnosed with adhd. The only reason I bothered to pursue the diagnosis was because it was impacting my ability to function throughout my day, and I wanted to try medication. (Personally, I think those are the only times you really should pursue a professional diagnosis, but that's a separate conversation...)
The most notable complaints I had about what I was experiencing were:
- struggling to focus on one task instead of bouncing around between everything on my to do list
- getting overwhelmed and paralyzed from the amount of thoughts and tasks that were in front of me
- struggling to stay on a task that requires my full focus (like reading) because I simply can't give that task my full attention
- conversely, going too long engaging in one task (usually a preferred relaxation task) and neglecting other parts of my life. This typically happens for me on weekends, when I'm trying to play video games instead of think about work.
There are other symptoms that I qualify with, like interrupting people (or struggling not to), being physically jittery and fidgety, being easily angered when certain things happen, etc.
For me, a lot of this ties back to - and was made most clear by - the amount of tasks I have to regularly engage in in my life, and my difficulty keeping up with it all and functioning effectively through it.
Now on one hand, the DSM V is written with a focus on symptoms that interfere with life functioning. And things that stop necessary tasks from being completed tend to fuck our lives up more than something that makes us a little too talkative or fidgety.
But also. And I will say this again and again and again.
A diagnosis is a tool and label. Not a law of the universe. Not a cause. It is a human attempt at categorization of known symptoms, with the intention of relating to effective treatments.
(And that^^^ is something you'll learn from any decent psych 101 class. Mine wasn't decent and I had to go a few classes beyond before we actually started framing it that way.)
With that in mind. Here's a question.
Is my adhd just innate within me, and something that would have been there, regardless of what my life looked like? Is it a specific way my brain deviates from the "norm," and something that, with the right technology and testing, could have been detected and diagnosed without my even noticing any symptoms? Something that exists in a vaccuum without touching my other diagnoses of anxiety and depression?
Or. Is it maybe just a quick and easy way of saying "this person cannot keep up with the stimuli in their life without becoming overwhelmed. And it is effecting their functioning to a notable degree"
That second option is a gross oversimplification, but I hope you take a second to sit with how much the first option sounds like eugenics. If the problem is innate within you, then if we just improve our technology enough to detect it in everyone who has it and separate them from the "norm," then we can weed out the problem, right? Okay, Elon.
How much of my adhd could be a culmination of the fact that I'm overwhelmed with stimuli 24/7 and have lost my ability to focus effectively because of it? How much of my clients' adhd could be a result of the same, possibly combined with the fact that many of them have experienced or are currently experiencing trauma? Which is known to impact ability to focus on tasks, as well as create a hyperactive body system?
This isn't to say adhd is a bogus diagnosis. The same way that the anxiety and depression we experience within our current world state is also not a bogus diagnosis. We're still experiencing it. We still fit the diagnostic criteria. And treatment still helps.
My point of all this is, yes to what's above. And also, maybe it would be good to reframe the ways we view diagnosis in general, to take it a step further, and to recognize the very clear and present causes of what a lot of people are experiencing nowadays. In my opinion, it goes beyond anxiety and depression.
(Also. For the people saying you'll go nuts if you aren't busy. Take a look at why that is. Is that a sustainable way of living? Are you comfortable just existing as yourself? Are you trying to distract yourself from something, or avoiding something uncomfortable? Have you possibly adapted well to the pressure of being constantly busy? Think about it from a different angle)
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#this is pre-8am rambling so take that for what it is#and i know i didnt provide any sources#frankly a lot of this is stuff i got from conversation and lecture in school#as well as conversation with other professionals#i have no doubt there is literature out there that discusses it and backs it up#but ill be honest i havent read it since college#and im not about to link something i havent read#nor am i about to read a whole book on it today because its saturday and i dont want to work. thats what the week is for#the adhd thing tho#im gonna see if theres studies that have connected the increase in adhd diagnoses to the evolution of social media or something#if i find something ill link it#anyway a lot of this is meant to be provoking philosophical conversation about how we view ourselves and the world thru a psychological len#not necessarily a research backed explanation for What Is#i just want people to think a bit#if an academic source for this is that important for you to find#theyre out there. shouldnt take you long. go for it#professional opinion: focus less on diagnosis and more on actual cause. treat the causes#thats not something you really need a source for tbqh
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Good Roommates Don't (m)
for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid collab i recieved you @haologram!
Pairing: roommate! Minghao x barista!afab!reader Word count: 14.1k rating: R Summary: Xu Minghao had been the most ethereal being you've ever laid your eyes on to the point being unable of functioning like a normal person, but now you're roommates. Only time will tell when you lose your mind keeping your hands to yourself, so there needed to be a list of things you don't do if you wanted to be a good roommate. tags: meet-ugly, strangers to roommates to lovers, college au, barista au, down bad!reader, mentions of band, brief bdsm, mc fell first he fell harder, cum swapping, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), face riding, unprotected sex author note: thank you @lovetaroandtaemin and @gyubakeries beta-reading this with me. after writing towtsyfdtotbycf (holy shit) i was in a little bit of a slump and had several and i mean SEVERAL versions of this and for months racked my brain how i wanted to do this. Alta, i care for you deeply and we've gotten close in the last year or so, so i really wanted to write something that would amuse you and that you'd enjoy. and if you hate it you can use it as leverage to berate me on discord lol. but please, my valentine, enjoy my gift to you. happy Valentines day Alta (and tell me was i really not that slick) <3
When you first met Minghao, you almost killed him trying to save his life. At least, that's what you thought you were doing.
All you had to do was bear a normal shift at the Coffee Shop, attempt a semblance of a smile for the oncoming customers, and clock out at your normal hour, but the universe couldn’t even give you that. Instead, they sent you the hottest guy imaginable, along with the swiftness of a gazelle, the strength of a gorilla, and the intuition of a garden gnome. That day just confirmed that some things were better left alone.
A few things were already going wrong that day. For one, your alarm didn't go off. The alarm being your mom, who usually kicked you out of bed first thing at 9 am, since she had a doctor’s appointment. Fair enough. The strings of fate got you there. All the more reason why moving out seemed like a distant dream rather than a close reality. Were you really capable of being a functioning adult?
Then there was the bus and having to shell out twenty bucks for a Lyft when the next scheduled bus was reported to have broken down and was no longer an option. That twenty bucks could’ve been your meal for the next week, but no, being fiscally responsible was a circus act, and you were the clown being pied in the face repeatedly. As if you weren’t already putting on a face and juggling multiple things enough on a daily basis, today was no different.
And then, you were late to work—which again, was nothing new—but you were hoping that Nayeon, who was scheduled as the shift manager, she’d let you off with a warning. Yet, somehow, that went wrong as well, seeing that the shittier manager on your shift, Manager Fi, was present instead. And, by the look in the old man's eyes, he wasn’t happy about it either, especially considering he assigned you bathroom duty for the end of your shift to make up for your tardiness. He never liked you since you started. Then again, he didn’t like anybody, and vice versa.
This morning was bad omen after bad omen.
Leading up to finally meeting Minghao—tall, scorchingly hot Minghao, , with lips that looked soft as clouds. You hadn’t seen him around before until today, and perhaps it should’ve stayed that way, because you couldn’t see yourself facing him ever again.
He walked in with his large group of friends, all almost nearly as charming as him with a handful of faces that you’ve seen once or twice, but none that stood quite out like his. He had the kind of face that made you want to paint murals, write ballads, or stare long enough to linger too long over the same spot you were cleaning on the counter, windshield wiping until the wet streaks you wiped off devolved to discoloration and damaged the countertop’s cheap sealant. Eventually, you averted your gaze to conceal your flushed cheeks—turning away in clear embarrassment, thinking about how much of a fucking creep you probably looked overtly gawking at him—but you’d soon realized that was the least of your worries. You’d soon wish it ended with you looking like a creep.
The next moment you lifted your eyes towards him again, you found him in a compromising position, one that had you thinking—and that was your first mistake. His face twisted with discomfort, and he gasped as he covered his mouth. A million thoughts raced through your mind, considering all the possible reasons for his distress, and one screamed the loudest above all, setting off alarm bells. So you—being meddling and troublesome you—acted on instinct.
Hopping over the counter, you raced towards him, pulled him off the booth which he was luckily on the edge of, and immediately attempted the Heimlich. Finally, your CPR certification could be put to use. You embraced him from behind, putting pressure on his ribcage as you launched and thrust yourself against him, forcing whatever was lodged in his throat out of his body.
“I’ve got you!” you exclaimed heroically.
You put in as much strength as you could muster, truly hoping to save a life today, thinking out of all things that have gone wrong today, at least this would be one thing you’ve done right. You could feel your ancestors looking down on you to witness a proud moment in your otherwise boring and mundane life.
After several rough collisions with his body, he eventually spat something chewed up and unsightly onto the booth’s table, drawing the attention of several onlookers if your boisterous shouting hadn’t already. His friends were quick to look away, wincing in disgust while the cute boy doubled over in pain, holding himself by the ribs as you ran your eyes over at him in concern.
“Are you alright, sir? That must’ve been terrifying to suffocate on something so suddenly.”
He then finally lifted his head. His cheeks were flushed as anguish took over his features. “I wasn’t choking,” He rasped.
“...Come again?”
“Oh my god!” A third-party witness stood up dramatically from their seat. “This barista just saved this young man’s life!”
Suddenly, you were punished with attention, cheers specifically. All except the people who sat at the cute boy’s table clapped for you—or, rather at you now—and gave you standing ovations for your grand heroic act, when in fact, it wasn’t heroic at all. Meanwhile, you attempted to settle them down, flapping your hands dismissively and growing hot all over. You looked over the man you so-called saved as he strained to sit back in his seat, being tended by the friends he came with.
“Dude, you okay?”
“Shit, that looked like it hurt.”
“You probably shouldn't have been drinking it that fast, Minghao.”
It turned out you had severely miscalculated the situation. What appeared to be choking, prompting you to improperly administer a rough but appropriate Heimlich maneuver, was simply a mildly exaggerated reaction to hot coffee followed by a muffin to alleviate his burnt taste buds. You, of course, profusely apologized, as if you weren’t embarrassed enough for staring at him the whole time working your entire shift at the coffee shop because he was the most breathtakingly stunning person you’ve ever seen in your life. You might’ve just about broken his ribs and made his life flash before his eyes by abruptly slamming your body against him repeatedly, and not in the fun way.
Rather than an apartment, you were in desperate need of a hole deep enough to lead you to the core of the Earth to hide you from everyone else on the crust, ideally with cheap rent and good air ventilation.
You bowed your head in humiliation, unable to meet any of their eyes, especially with the possibility of them remembering your face with a lawsuit waiting to happen. “I can’t believe that happened, I am so sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”
“It’s okay, really, but I think we’ve had enough excitement for today if you don’t mind.”
The attractive stranger—or Minghao, as you’ve learned from his friends who immediately rushed to him in concern—shook his hand in the air reassuringly. “Just, no more of that, alright? Make sure someone’s actually choking before trying to save them.”
“Right, please have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said, before returning to your station and disappearing behind the breakroom, screaming into your cubby and avoiding human interaction for as long as you could.
That scene replayed in your mind over and over like a recurring nightmare, burning the image of his beautiful face with such disdain for all eternity, while his name etched into your brain in permanent ink, embedded in every wrinkle in your brain. Minghao. A devastatingly beautiful name for a devastatingly beautiful owner.
Ugh. Get a fucking grip.
You just needed to get through the rest of the day. It would just be a couple more hours until your shift ended, and then you’d leave on the dot. It’d be just in time to make your appointment to meet your new potential roommate. Hopefully, it would be the silver lining of today’s catastrophic mess.
You met on electronic class forums while attending the same Cultural Studies course and somehow ended up relying on each other for notes. By your chat history, you seemed to have a lot in common—with the exception of his preference for tea over artisanal coffee—and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get giddy seeing the green circle next to his username. Recently, he had just talked about moving into town after pondering the idea for so long, and as fate may have it, you’ve been looking for your own place to stay. You figured he seemed nice enough, and he even offered a reasonable quote on rent. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look. You just hoped he was as friendly in real life as he was online—with the day you had, you needed a win.
And, that win started with Chinese food, his choice, and it was a good one. You hadn’t been at this location before, taking note of the old-fashioned aesthetic touched by the harshness of modern neon signs that lit even the darkest of hallways. You were now thinking you ought to come more often as the heavenly notes of soy, ginger, and whatever concoction bled through the kitchen curtains and wafted through your nostrils the moment you passed through the double doors. Immediately, you were greeted by the host, visibly tired and overworked, with dark circles under his eyes, before he led you to a table in the center of the restaurant. You settled your nerves with a glass of water, trying to let the horrific events from today fade to as black as the soy sauce loitering on your table, waiting for a plate of dumplings to accompany them.
Funny how you could still have an appetite after everything that happened.
It wasn’t too long after you heard the same doors you walked through open, setting off the familiar sound of its wind chimes. You peered behind you, catching a glimpse of the new arrival, and immediately spun back in your seat, startled by the face that passed through your eyes. Trepidation brewed within you as the unsolicited visitor had your stomach in knots.
You couldn’t take another incident tonight.
You slunk into your seat, burying your chin in your shirt, hoping you’d somehow camouflage into your seat, facing away from the new arrival. Meanwhile, his eyes skimmed the room, walking in with purpose without guidance and greeting the employees as if he were right at home. Fortunately, he had yet to notice your presence as you slinked out of view the moment he passed by you to sit at the bar, while you made way into a booth in the dark corner of the restaurant, cursing the fates for their cruel games once again. You just had hoped that your new roommate would hurry it up already so you could get out of here before you were discovered.
And after about ten minutes, it felt as if all hope was lost. There was no sign of them and you were wondering if you had been stood up. Amid your anticipation, you were forced to pay attention to the person you were avoiding, seeing his patience wear thin with the tap of his foot as he sipped the last of his iced tea. Not a moment too soon, you saw him pluck his phone out from his pocket, fingers skittering over the screen before bringing it to his ear and scanning the restaurant’s floor plan. In the same instant, your phone went off, blaring your cursed ringtone, ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’, and the realization—along with the panic—quickly set in.
Alerted by the noise, his head whipped up from his screen. His eyebrows rose in shock, not all expecting the outcome that arose, and he dropped to his feet and quickly darted toward the sound that you—for the life of you—could not turn off fast enough. His footsteps matched the rate of your heart pounding in your chest, growing louder and closer until he found the source and located you cowering in the corner.
You lifted your head to lock eyes for the first time since this morning just as you finally managed to silence the ringtone and gave him an awkward laugh, waving with your phone in hand. Taking a nervous gulp, you awaited his disappointment, expecting him to make his quick exit after evaluating in the two seconds of your meeting that this arrangement would not work out because you were a deranged psycho with a savior complex. To your pleasant surprise, that didn't happen. Instead, you were met with a gentle smile and a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “There you are.”
You forced a sheepish chuckle. “Here I am, ha.”
Minghao softly chuckled before tucking his phone in his back pocket. “And to think just this morning you ‘saved my life.’”
You shut your eyes tightly, hands pressing together as if begging for forgiveness. “Again I am so, so sorry for that. It did look like you were choking.”
He shook his head reassuringly. “So you’ve said. I’m Minghao, or PalE8. Nice to meet you, CafeMixr0.”
“Is it…nice to meet me?” You asked dubiously.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
You blinked incredulously. “Well, for several reasons.”
He shrugged before entering the booth and leaving a healthy distance to sit just across from you. “Can’t think of any. Have you ordered anything yet?”
You shook your head, befuddled by his nonchalance, waiting to see the catch, if there was any.
“Good thing I know everything worth ordering.” His hand shot up before grabbing the attention of a server to get his order taken.
You weren't sure where the night was going. All you knew was the boy that you almost killed this morning was sitting across from you looking as breathtaking as he did this morning, even while slurping up his stir fry that was glossed with a sheen of chilli oil and swelling up his already full lips. Rather than a roommate meetup—if that was still the case—it felt like a date, a date you were exceedingly ill-prepared for.
Suddenly, you could feel the sweat on the back of your knees, feeling the strong urge to sniff the clothes on your back, unsure when the last time you did a fresh load of laundry and if your current attire was included in that load at all. Not to mention that bathroom duty that was forced upon you, which no doubt seeped into your clothes. You were better off naked, but then that would be an entire different kind of meeting, wouldn”t it?
“You’re okay, right?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from your spiraling thoughts as you barely finished your portion of chow mein—which was absolutely heavenly, to put it lightly.
He let out a light chuckle before kindly reassuring you. “How many times are you going to ask me? You and everyone from this morning. I’m fine, able-bodied and everything.”
“I just felt really bad. You looked really hurt.”
He couldn’t suppress his grin, finding your cautiousness amusing, but it only added to your unease. “I was hurt. You’re really, really strong.”
You winced. “Again. I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s a quality of a good roommate.” He finished the last bit of his meal before dropping a couple of bills without asking for the tab. “Come on. I’ve got to show you the apartment.”
You raised an eyebrow while sipping your warm tea before tapping your mouth with a napkin. “You still want to room with me? After this morning?”
“There’s not a lot of good options for roommates in the city, and what are the odds that you’ll try to kill me twice?”
He had a fair point, and it wasn’t like you had options lining up either. You just had to hope he didn’t regret taking this chance on you.
A big reason why you wanted to move out was to learn to be on your own, but in addition to that, the city had pretty much everything to offer. The city had it all, from job opportunities to the right people to meet, and the apartment Minghao led you to was the center of the entirety of it. High above the town square, in a room several floors up, there was a nook that had a view through a large window overlooking everything within about a two-mile radius. If there was anything nice to say about the city, it definitely looked better from where you were standing. The street lights illuminated streets, neon signs brought the local businesses to life, and people that ran the night life lived it to the fullest in the flashiest clothes imaginable. You had never seen your city like this before.
Meanwhile, the apartment itself was gorgeous and already fully furnished with stylish furniture and greenery that touched the kitchen and living room. It was graced with Minghao’s taste in art and an eccentric—but tasteful—color palette of warm browns, olive greens, and rustic oranges. It felt like walking into Minghao’s mind, seeing into his world, and you were given the opportunity of it being yours, being part of his world. He was generous enough to even let you pass through the front door.
“So?” he asked, gauging your interest, watching as you looked down at the city from the large window nook in awe.
You softly scoffed, unable to take your eyes off the beautiful view calling to you like a siren at sea. “Um, I’m sorry, you had trouble finding a roommate, how?”
He crossed his arms, admiring the sight with you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision and grinning when he saw the childlike sparkle in your eyes. “I’m new to the city, and everyone I know here has their own living arrangements. I didn’t want to go too far in looking for a new roommate. I thought we'd work well together, since we’re based in the same city now and have a lot in common based on our conversations.”
“I almost killed you this morning,” You’ve pointed out to…death.
“Although you’re…impulsive and unpredictable, I’ve seen worse. I think I’ll manage.” He splayed his hand in front of you, gesturing for a shake to officially seal the deal. “What do you say? Do you still want to be roommates?”
Everything about this screamed it was a bad idea. Putting aside the fact that you nearly killed the man, you could barely stand in the presence of him without your mind drifting to dark waters. It didn’t take rocket science to understand that putting you in that same living quarters with Minghao meant you might have to live every day together with your hands tied behind your back and thighs taped shut. You’ve surprised yourself with how you’ve managed to keep your composure sharing the same air—the air you were even thinking of savoring as you contemplated this offer.
You were down-righteously-bad. You weren’t a fit roommate for Minghao in the slightest.
Yet, you took his hand, letting his cool palm clash with your warmth as his digits wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before shaking. “Let’s do it.”
And that marked the start of a new chapter of your life, unraveling the challenge of being Xu Minghao’s roommate. Only, he wasn’t the challenge. He was a breath of fresh autumn air. He was kind beyond words and accommodating in every step of your move. You were already familiar with his gentle and patient nature, as he had frequently taken the time to clarify complex ideas for class, and you’ve learned about the majority of his interests prior from your online discussions, but seeing PalE8’s traits in person—embodied in Minghao—was bizarre. You realized he was still a stranger after all. A stranger that claimed your breath with a single bat of his eyes and turned your stomach inside out worse than a bad case of food poisoning, no less.
Meanwhile, the neighbors knew him by name, were endeared by his presence, and found him to be a delightful conversationalist as well as a helping hand when the situation called for it. He was better than your friendly neighborhood spiderman. He was your kind, considerate, intricately woven, beautifully complex, and knees-bucklingly handsome Minghao.
You weren’t usually a sexual deviant, at least not to this extent, but Minghao brought something out of you that you hadn’t felt for another person. However, if you were going to live together, that had to change. This crush was going to have to dwindle out of existence if you wanted to live together—emphasis on you—in peace.
So, that’s when you decided to make a list of rules that only you had to follow. Sure, you were an adult, and the thought of giving yourself rules to keep your hands to yourself was juvenile and stupid, but for the sake of your sanity, you were looking for anything that might work. That’s when you decided to make a list of things “good roommates don’t do”, thinking it would be shorter and easier to sum up than a long redundant list of things good roommates would do, and the first thing to top the list was easy.
Good roommates don’t almost kill each other (again).
That seemed easy enough to remember, considering the first time was traumatic enough, and fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort, considering you hardly saw each other despite living together.
You ended up taking up more shifts at work, desperate enough to even join the catering team, to keep yourself busy and afford the new expense of rent, sacrificing a lot more of your free time. Meanwhile, Minghao’s work schedule was not only demanding, it was inconsistent. Working at a popular art gallery as an artist and attendant with frequent and erratic events to go to until late at night prompted your roommate to be seen home a lot less than expected. By the time either of you got home, there wouldn’t be so much of a hello or goodbye either, just the sounds of bodies falling on beds in either rooms as the day’s fatigue engulfed you until you succumbed to sleep.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little disappointed by these circumstances, but then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Seeing him as little as you did meant less opportunity for you to screw things up around him, because it seemed to happen quite frequently when he was around. The few times you did cross paths, you still found ways to humiliate yourself.
“That’s mine.”
You held the toothbrush mid-scrub, bubbles foaming at the corners of your mouth, “Eh?”
“I think you’re using my toothbrush.”
Your cheeks immediately grew warm, and you shielded your face with the back of your hand. You spat into the sink and splashed water on your face to rid yourself of toothpaste residue before turning back to respond, his words jumbling in your head and bouncing from corner to corner to process them. “I-I don’t think so, this is the one I always use.”
He snickered, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms, delectably dressed down in a gray tank top and sweatpants. The tempting taste of domesticity was sweet and permeated your tastebuds. “If that’s the case, we���ve been sharing, because I’ve always kept my brush there in the marble cup. Yours should be behind the medicine cabinet where you first left it.”
“What? You sure?” you pinned the used toothbrush on the sink’s porcelain before cracking open the medicine cabinet. “I’m pretty sure I took it—Ah!”
Startled by your findings, you dropped the toothbrush you gripped in your hand onto the floor when you’ve proven Minghao right as his toothbrush fell to the ground, now defiled with your oral bacteria and whatever was on the floor. The one day you take a shift later than usual because a member begged to take on more shifts, it blew up in your face. Seokmin, you will rue the day. “I-I’ll clean it!” You offered in a panicked tone.
He pushed himself off the threshold, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t, please. It’s dirty; I can just replace it.”
Filled with guilt, you stepped aside to watch him pick up the dirty brush before disposing of it in the waste bin, “Sorry.”
“You say that a lot.”
He pulled a fresh toothbrush out of a drawer and ripped it out of its packaging. It was notably identical to his previous and your current abandoned toothbrush, down to the bristles. “No worries. See,” he turned the new hygiene tool for inspection, “Clean.”
“Regret having me as a roommate yet?” you joked anxiously towards his reflection in the mirror.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing I can’t manage. I lived in a boarding house full of guys that shared things without asking and it didn’t stop at toothbrushes. You’re the first roommate I’ve had that’s apologized. I say that’s an upgrade.”
He went on to brush his teeth with his newly obtained brush, christening the bristles with a squeeze of fluoride toothpaste before scrubbing against his pearly whites. He never ceased to amaze you with his aloof attitude towards the situation, as if he’d become accustomed to your chaos when he didn’t need to be at all. This situation, however, did indicate that you had another thing to be added to the list.
Good roommates don’t use each other’s toothbrush (even by accident)
In your room just before you left for work, you haphazardly added to the list you put on a crumpled piece of paper you kept in your wallet, ensuring you held your list close before setting the pen aside. Your heart pounded against your chest, thinking what that had meant all this time. How you’ve pretty much swapped saliva nearly every day with Minghao since moving in. The fact that it had gone on for so long repulsed you, but not anymore than the tiny part of yourself that maybe had always known and continued to do it.
You held your digits to your lips, brushing the pads against the slit of your mouth, ragged breaths slowly leaving your lungs as you reached your enamel. Tension pooled in your stomach as the images that infiltrated your dreams were currently being conjured in your consciousness, while arousal chased down your legs as you clenched them together. Jolted back to reality, you wound your eyes shut, remembering how little he cared about the matter, how nonchalant he was when he found out. Meanwhile, here you were: perverse, losing your mind, and letting your imagination run wild like a hormonal teenager with her celebrity crush.
Fuck. You needed a night out. You had been cooped up in the apartment for too goddamn long. The only other place you went was work, and knowing labor laws, they had to give you a night or two off for all the time you’d been putting in. There was a whole outside world, and you needed to buck up and take advantage of it. You had to do something other than fawn over your very hot roommate. Losing some spare change was worth the sanity. At least, you hoped it was.
“You going out tonight?”
Hearing a familiar tenor voice, your head lifted up from fixing the strap of your shoes to see him remove his coat and store it away in the front entrance closet. “Oh, you’re home,” you stated.
“Yeah. The gallery is closed tonight for a bigger show this weekend, so I have a couple days where I’m off earlier than usual.”
More time for Minghao to be at home. Great.
You nodded, keeping your cool at the sight of his turtleneck hugging his lean and toned frame, making your heart work overtime in place of you this evening. “I see, but yeah. A couple of my friends and I are trying out that new place that just opened up in midtown.”
“Oh, let me know how that goes. Me and some friends had plans to go there too.”
“Okay.” You hurried your way to the door. “Don’t wait up.”
“Wait.”
Hand on the door knob, you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for impact before opening them, and turned around with an innocuous expression. “Yes?”
He held out his hand. “Your phone please.”
“Hmm? Why,” you asked, unlocking it before complying.
He smiled accepting it, before swiping his fingers off the screen. “I’m sending myself your location.”
And there your heart when pitter-patter again at thoughtful and kind hot as fuck Minghao. “I just told you where I’d be.”
“That could always change. Here,” he said, handing your phone back, beaming back at you warmly. “Just in case something happens, and you can always call me if you feel unsafe, okay?”
You gave a soft pout, cheeks growing warm at the thought of Minghao’s concern over you. It pleased you more than it should’ve. “Thanks. What are you gonna do tonight?”
He shrugged, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “Maybe do some light reading and tea, paint if inspiration hits me.”
You gave a small grin, thinking just how Minghao those activities sound. “Sounds enlightening. Okay. I’ll be home soon.”
“Be safe.”
Even long after you’d left, you kept thinking about that interaction. How domestic it felt, how safe it made you feel, how seen you really were. It made you wonder if he was tracking you right now, looking at his phone, staring at the dot indicating where you were located. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now, because you were most certainly thinking about him.
Your mission of trying to forget Minghao by going out definitely was not working, but you took that as a sign to keep drinking. Your friends didn’t get to see you often with how much you worked, so they were just happy to see you were having a good time, not knowing you were trying to drown out the consuming thoughts of a certain man with a peculiar color scheme.
They wouldn’t have known the way you let yourself get felt up by a stranger near the dance floor, standing so close you could smell the knock off cologne he was practically bathing in as his breath hung in the air against your neck. When it went nowhere, he eventually left, looking for prospects elsewhere, while you stuck to your mission, seeing it work at some point at night. Until it didn’t, but you didn’t remember because eventually it’d all fade to black.
Your eyes ripped open, waking up with the biggest headache, blinded by the natural rays of light bleeding through blinds—only your room didn’t have blinds. You specifically made sure to have blackout curtains because you couldn’t stand waking up to the sun, and that hasn’t ever changed. Grumbling irritatingly along the lines about who turned on the lights, you flipped on the other side of the bed with a half awoken daze, your blurry vision making out a lumpy figure underneath the covers.
You drew closer in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were seeing before taking in the fact the lump had a face as blinding as the sun you turned away from, startling you upon recognition. Your eyes shot open, wide awake now, and you nearly stumbled out of the mattress before his arms grabbed you, latching on you before you could fall off and safely secured you in his tucked embrace.
“It’s a bit early for your charming antics, isn’t it?” Minghao chucked with closed eyes.
You blinked back at him, licking your lips anxiously. “How am I here right now?”
His eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the light. “You mean alive or in bed with me?”
Your cheeks grew hot. “B-both.”
“I wish I had an answer for the first question, but it seems your creator had more plans for you. As for your second concern, you seemed confused and tired, and I assumed you confused this bed for yours.”
“You should’ve kicked me out.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing his hands over your shoulders and sending a chill down your spine. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
You let out a soft sigh, ridden with guilt. “I’d deserve it. I must’ve been annoying to deal with.”
He knitted his brows together, the corner of his lips softly turning down. “You really don’t like yourself.”
“No—well, maybe not lately. Maybe I’m just coming to the realization I’m not a good roommate.”
“No one is good at anything their first time.”
“You’re not denying it!”
“You’re a fine roommate.” Patting you on the back, he threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, leaving his room to trod toward the kitchen. You followed after curiously, like a duckling that imprinted on its mother, watching as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge’s shelves. “Anything you’re allergic to?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Nothing comes to mind.” You answered hesitantly.
“Good. The recipe is fairly easy anyway, it shouldn’t kill you.”
Your eyes widened and you quickly stood by his side as he set all the items down, he followed with gathering bowls and cookware. “You’re cooking for me?”
“Mmh-hmm.”
“You don’t have to.”
He turned his head slightly. “You have a headache, don’t you?”
“Yes but—”
“It’s just egg drop soup.” He patted your shoulder nodding his head over at the counter stool either of you would often have breakfast. “Sit. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”
You sat patiently by the counter, watching him chop and throw ingredients into a small pot, which filled your shared residence with a savory aroma. As soon as he was done, he presented the dish in front of you, garnishing it with fresh chopped scallions and parsley. He picked up a serving with a soup spoon and gently blew on the top before taking a quick sample and grinning at the result. Scooping with the same spoon, he held a serving towards you with proud eyes.
“Try it,” he urged.
As you accepted the offering, you tried not to think about how you were about to share yet another household item that would enter both your mouths and let the simple flavors fan out on your tongue, the warmth of soup dispersing throughout your body. You hummed in delight, already feeling it work its magic. “It’s delicious,” you said softly.
He grinned. “Feel better.”
“Thanks, Minghao.”
“No problem at all.”
As you enjoyed your thoughtful breakfast, your roommate cleaned up his mess. He wiped down whatever residue was left behind before heading to his room and coming out properly dressed in brown slacks and muted green patterned sweater when you were just about done eating. “Heading to work now.”
“You had work?” You asked surprised, “Why did you waste time cooking? You could have left already.”
He softly scoffed heading to the door. “I spent—what, five or ten minutes? It’s fine. See you later.”
In the last 24 hours, Minghao managed to make sure you were safe by tracking your location, gave you a good night's rest by not disrupting your sleep, and made you breakfast right before work. Then there’s you, black out drunk with almost no memory of last night (probably good you didn’t), annoying your overly nice and overly hot roommate, hogging a bed that isn’t yours, and eating a home cooked meal that probably set back his schedule. You were the worst. All the more reason for a new addition to the list.
Good roommates don't sleep in their other roommate’s bed piss drunk (again)
It seemed that this list of “don’ts” was getting longer, probably because you’re an awful roommate, and if there was a reward, yours would already be at the front door. You really, really had to make an effort to do something about this arrangement. Now that some time had passed and these interactions were becoming more frequent, avoiding him seemed to be out of question unless you wanted to give him the wrong impression. You would just have to become a better roommate, and that started with making up for this morning.
In the following months together, to atone for the bed incident and good deeds that followed suit, you shared the occasional breakfast if you had time (that is if you didn’t burn anything), even sometimes grabbing dinner or a late meal in the small gap before or after work. While in the late hours, when both of you should’ve been sleeping, you’d have a cup of your favorite beverages. He’d have his brew of tea for the night while you’d have a mug of coffee, awake under the stars and basking in the night, watching from the nook that you both grew fond of that was in the direction of the moon when it’s at its peak.
Of all people to share these moments with, you couldn’t imagine it with anyone else but Minghao. He was the peace amongst the chaos, the quiet you came home to after dealing with the noisy world that helped you heal like nothing else. You liked that about him, and now you were liking him too much, to the point you thought of him every day. What it’d be like for him to hold you in his arms, letting his warmth envelop your entire being the way his voice naturally does with a simple “it’s okay.”
You’d imagine how he’d look at you, how lovers do when they ache for one another so desperately they could feel it down to every atom. You’d thought of the words he’d say to you, the words he’d say to someone he’s madly, irrevocably besotted with, and every letter and word and sentence would be spoken poetry. He’d feel like love. You didn’t think it was possible for you to grow more attracted to him, but learning all these wonderful things he does and seeing up close and personal how beautiful inside and out he was, you were developing feelings and growing all these desires that you were ashamed to admit out loud.
And with that, you pulled out your list and a pen, jotting in a new item.
Good roommates don’t live in every waking moment staring at them or thinking about wanting to kiss them (no matter how hard it is)
You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already broken that rule, but the least you could do was hold yourself accountable.
However, writing the rule didn't prevent future instances. Not from fantasizing, not from wet dreams, not from imagining a life together where you rid all your inhibitions and clothes and succumb to drowning in each other. Unlike every other rule that you’ve managed to avoid, this one was the outlier, flipping your world on its head and preoccupying every second of your thoughts with all things Xu Minghao. And what sucked was you were so guilt ridden, you couldn't even let yourself enjoy it.
This was your roommate for crying out loud. Your wholesome, nice, forgiving, and tolerant roommate that went beyond what was necessary to make you feel at home and comfortable. Only time will tell when he’ll see through you and finally kick you to the curb.
“Let’s go out.”
Your head lifted up from your phone with eyes large as saucers. “What?”
“We haven't really done anything together,” he suggested, cleaning up the dishes of the dinner you both had just had.
It was one of the few nights that you were both free. The coffee shop had more than enough staff, and you’ve exhausted the hours put in, while the art gallery was planning a grand exhibition, so they needed all hands on deck for the mornings for a few weeks, but evenings would be free until the week of. That left you two a lot more free time than you knew what to do with.
“We see each other all the time,” you pointed out.
“At home. We don’t hang outside the apartment aside from that one dinner the first day we met, so let’s go out.”
You blinked, watching him grab his coat before you could argue as he waved you over, his smile luring you closer and putting you under his spell without you realizing until it was too late. “Uh, where? It’s 9PM.”
“Anywhere.”
For someone who had only arrived in town a couple months ago, Minghao knew a lot of the good spots in the city. If it wasn’t food, it was book stores. If it wasn’t book stores, it was tea shops. He had a clear plan of the city, and without so much looking at a GPS, he could find his way around better than any native. And considering all the people he came with that day you met the coffee shop and all the staff at the Chinese restaurant, his index didn’t stop at places. He seemed more familiar with the people in your hometown than you were. Between you two, he looked like the real local.
Walking alongside your roommate, you turned to him curiously, “How do you know the city so well when you’ve moved in somewhat recently?”
He gave a soft smile looking into the distance, as if the gust of wind that passed through you both hit him with a wave of nostalgia. “I’ve been visiting for about four years. I only had the guts to become a resident recently.”
“Why’d it take you so long?”
“Student visa processes, paper work, all those things. Also, this city is great, and everyone I've met and have become close with is amazing, but home is just home. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He let out a deep sigh, taking in a deep breath before stretching out his arms and let fall back to his sides, turning slightly to you. “This country and town has become a second, though, some things even my home can’t beat.”
You mused at that, intrigued that he could find something appealing in here, then again you've been here all your life, yet Minghao showed you more you could ever imagine of it. “Like what?”
He simply smiled as their feet stopped at their final destination, a location they both aimlessly walked towards just a little off the center of the town. “I’ll tell you, as soon as we try this place out.”
Just off the center of town was a bar you had never heard of with a theme you’d never thought to put together on your own and definitely a place you’d never think to walk into with your roommate you were trying to keep platonic feelings for.
“Hey sexy babies, welcome to the Love in Leather BDSM Bar, where all your sexy dreams can come true.”
Oh, my god.
You were petrified. Every wall was decorated with leather or latex, either on display in a box, on a vulgarly displayed mannequin, or on an employee that was dressed in next to nothing, leaving no room for imagination. You weren’t shy about the theme of BDSM—there was always a small part of you curious about it—but it’s not like you’ve talked extensively about it with Minghao. The same person you were trying really hard not to think about sleeping with, which was especially hard in a place that served ‘cum shots’ and with their special for tonight being ‘buttery nipples.’
Glancing back at your roommate to get his reaction, he seemed to be just as startled with his findings as you were, but perhaps not as terrified as he should be, taking you by the wrist and weaving through the crowd with a marveled expression. You were grateful for the loud music playing the explicit versions of songs you wouldn’t otherwise hear on the radio, drowning out the sound of your heavy breathing and the loud thrum of your heart. You just had hoped he couldn’t feel your pulse under his fingertips, unable to untangle from his grasp as you felt the heat of his touch spread out through your whole body. You were trapped in a web you didn’t want to leave and that was the hardest kind to be in.
Suddenly, lights poured on the center stage of the bar. The music then slowed down, transitioning to another song, and a scantily leather clad woman entered that would erupt cheers of all clients seated in the chairs in front of her, to which she sent an air kiss and wink. Following the crowd, both you and Minghao decided to cheer along with them, your sounds of encouragement drowned out in the more enthusiastic and obscenely creative audience members of the establishment. Walking across the stage, she made a show of it, caressing her body in ways that would have a man on his knees howling at the moon (which you swore you heard once or twice in there) as money was thrown strewn stage like confetti, enough to pay for a few nice dinners uptown. After garnering the excitement, she descended down the steps of the stage, walking into her live audience. Her eyes skimmed through the endless crowds of people, landing on and picking one lucky front row member—a young, spry man no older than twenty-five—and brought him on stage, ensuing roars and applause, indicating the start of the real show.
What happened next was something you did not want to get into detail, but in layman’s terms, that audience member was having the time of his life with the use of a flog while everyone watched. You could only make the distinction of excruciating pain and pleasurable pain by the very loud affirmations coming out of his mouth and bouncing off the board he face planted on, and the words that passed through one of your ears and never wanted to come out the other. You were slack jawed from the scene, not at all expecting this scene today, and holy shit, you could not feel more suffocated knowing Minghao was witnessing all of this beside you.
He stared back at the scene, expression unreadable, but he seemed interested and unable to look away like it was an oncoming train wreck, looking as if he was stuck on the tracks and was making sense of what he was seeing. Suddenly, his eyes locked with yours and you watched as they softened with a glint of something behind them before you swiveled your head, feeling yourself burn from your face to your ears, clenching your free hand. This felt eerily like a date, but unlike the first dinner, this felt like a real one. An immense sexually charged one.
You were surrounded by sex at all angles, being tested to the most extreme degree. Tonight, you’ve learned dominance wasn’t particularly your thing, but if it were Minghao, perhaps you wouldn’t have minded.
But this, this was overwhelming. As if sensing your turmoil, Minghao tugged your wrist, making you fix your gaze on him again and read the words that he mouthed from his lips. “Time to run.”
Your fingers interlocked and feet picked up speed as you headed toward the door, running aimlessly for miles out of the bar in fits of smiles and laughter. There was no plan and no destination, you both just wanted out, and you’d only stop running when you reached a bridge, both your bodies collapsing against the metal railing. You both gave out in heavy pants, your breaths mingling as you faced one another.
“That’s crazy,” you managed to rasp. “Why did we think we could go in there?”
He gave you a tired grin back, looking in the direction from which you came. The light layer of perspiration made his shirt cling to his skin, and you get a sliver of his chest as he aired it out for comfort. “I don’t know. Try something new, but that.” He pointed where he faced. “That’s how I know so many places, I just walk inside.”
You ran your hand over your chest, baring the biggest grin. “Gosh. I feel like dying.”
“Iced coffee?” He kindly suggested.
“And tea?” You cared to offer.
Nodding back at each other, you both decided to walk the rest of the way back around, making a stop at a light night cafe and occupying their second floor balcony to taste the crisp air. As you sipped on your iced coffee and Minghao sipped on his warm tea, you quietly basked in the moonlit sky, as you’d done many times before. The adrenaline of tonight coursed through you still while you leaned against the railings and stared up at the stars, your elbows grazing close enough to spark that electricity that you’d feel whenever he ever got too close. This time, you were too tired to fight it, or you learned it’s about time you stopped trying to.
“I don’t drink coffee.” He abruptly confessed, penetrating the silence.
You softly scoffed, turning your head to him, taking his reminder as a jab for your ‘inferior’ tastes before taking a bigger sip of your delicious fresh roast press. “I know that. You prefer tea.”
“I mean, I don’t drink coffee, but the day you ‘saved me,’ I did.”
You hummed. “Oh. Yeah, you did. Funny. You got a coffee that day instead?”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, ask me why I drank coffee that day.”
You rolled your eyes, placing your drink on the side table before leaning your elbows over the railing. “Okay. Why did you drink coffee, Minghao?”
“I drank my friend’s mug on accident, thinking it was my tea, then tasted how scaldingly hot and wretched it was—”
You gasped, offended as a barista, “I work really hard on those!”
He waved his hand to calm you down. “Let me finish. I mistook my normal tea for coffee…all because I got distracted, unable to stop thinking about the cute barista who wouldn't quit staring at me from behind the counter.”
“...I apologize for being a creep.”
He shook his head smiling and set his tea cup aside. “Not my point.”
You stared into the contents of your drink, shaking the ice inside as you stirred the straw, trying to find any remains of your beverage and stalling for time to follow up with a response. Lips pressed in a firm line, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, silence met on the other end as he keenly observed you, mirroring your posture while he sipped his tea. “So…You thought I was cute,” you managed to sum up.
“Thought…think…know.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” You timidly asked.
“We’re roommates,” he reminded you, plain as day. “We should be honest with each other, right?”
“Honest,” you repeated, lethally soft.
“Yes, honest,” he confirmed just as quietly. “Don’t be afraid to tell me whatever is on your mind, just as I’ve told you what was on my mind.”
His honesty was cute, flattering. Your honesty could write up a restraining order. “Is that necessary? We only really live together.”
“It’s necessary because we live together, so yes, be honest about your feelings. Let me in on your thoughts, whatever they may be.”
Good roommates don’t forget to be honest about each other’s feelings.
He stood in front of you dangerously close, the lingering smell of his cologne that reminded you of the ocean wafting into your nose as he drew near. His gaze beckoned you close without so much a word passing through his lips, and you felt his presence close in on the distance as he leaned against the railing. You softly batted your eyes, adjusting to your sense being overtaken by all things Minghao, mind just filled to the brim with Minghao, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.
“You’re really committed to being a good roommate. I respect that,” you stated, harshly gulping. “Honesty. Where can I start?”
“Well, what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, face mere inches away from you, lips so plush you let out a wistful sigh.
“I’m thinking that…it’s really hard to think with your face so close in front of me.”
Despite that, he didn’t move, and instead he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your helix to feel your flustered warmth bloom between his fingers. “Fair enough. What else?”
You wrapped your hand around the railing, stabling yourself on the floor in hopes of not falling over on your two feet, your breath being stolen in real time by your roommate who was looking more and more inviting by the second.
“And if I knew any better, I’d think you're about to kiss me.”
“Let’s wager that then,” he said as he reeled even closer, his fingertips once in your ears now guiding your chin, letting the surface of your lips feel the ghost of his as your breaths mingled against one another. “You can predict one of two things. One, I kiss you. Or two, I pull away. You get a prize if your answer is correct.”
“How is that a fair wager? You can easily change your response depending on how I answer,” you pointed out, ultimately playing along.
“I won’t,” he reassured in a coaxingly smooth tone. “I’ve made my choice.”
You raised a brow, attempting to look only subtly intrigued when in reality you’ve let him enchant you. “What’s my prize?”
“Loser grants whatever the winner wishes.”
“That’s irresponsible.”
“Knowing you, your request would be far from unreasonable.”
“I’m talking about you.” You narrowed your eyes, swallowing at seeing him come at you so close. “But, okay. I’ll play.”
The corner of his lips lifted mischievously, tilting his head to the side as his eyes narrowed back at you. “So, what’s your answer?”
Your eyes flickered up to him, rounded up in intrigue as you tried to follow his gaze. “You’ll…pull away. Public displays of affection are cute, but maybe not your cup of tea, at least not grand ones like kissing, unless maybe it’s one the cheek or on the forehead.”
He smiled and gently tilted his head, eyes piercing into yours and taking a sharp breath before pulling away, crossing his arms with a soft pout on his lips. “You’re good.”
You felt the sting of rejection despite your victory, as if you’d hoped you’d be wrong. That he’d take you right there against the railing and give you a fervid kiss that broke you down to your knees and you could even taste in your dreams, but a win was a win. A predicted loss was better than a false victory.
“I guess I won.”
He sighed defeatedly, crossing his arms. “You did. So tell me, what desire would you like for me to fulfill for you?”
You shuddered at his choice of words, clamping your legs together. “Well, what would you have wanted me to do if I got the answer wrong?”
“Is that your wish? For me to answer the question?”
You softly scoffed. “Don’t be so cheap.”
He rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his tea, “Doesn’t matter, you didn’t get it wrong. You get the wish. So go on, tell me your wish.”
“…Fine. Grant me your wish as if you had won.”
“You want me to grant my own wish? That defeats the entire purpose,” he chortled with knitted brows.
“It’s my wish, so come on. What’s your wish?”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“And we didn't have to place bets, but it doesn't seem like there’s any rules against it, so go ahead. Tell me.”
Minghao sucked his teeth before complying. “Fine.”
He moved toward you, hands settling over your hips and settling you on the floor beneath your feet as he gravitated toward, steadying his gaze on you. His face, inches away from you, and your breath hitched in your throat as he drew his lips near your ear. You heard the subtle squelch of his tongue as they licked his teeth, moments before the wish he dared you to grant poured out from his lush lips. “My wish is for you to…make me tea every morning, afternoon, evening, and every time I ask you to. Like my little tea gremlin.”
“Now that’s just evil, Xu Minghao,” You protested, lightly shoving him off.
He laughed. “No, it’s not! Think of it like pour over coffee.”
“Don’t try romanticizing it like it’s anything like my beautiful beans. Tea is tea. Coffee is coffee.”
“It was your wish to grant my wish.”
“Can I take it back?” You whined.
“It’d be dishonorable.”
You groaned. “Fine.”
He chuckled, “Let’s go home, hmm?”
Heading back home, you were embraced by a warm comfortable silence. There was a kind of silence that sanctioned your amicable living arrangement with Minghao to turn into something warmer, feverish even, something that you can’t even help but notice and your hands would occasionally graze one another on the way back, taking turn exchanging timid glances at you walked your path home.
“That was fun,” You admitted, taking off your shoes at the front door.
“Yeah, I think so. We should do it more often.”
You smiled at each other’s reflections as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, seeing you take the same tube of toothpaste and started brushing your teeth. You smiled as he purposely bumped into you, raising his eyebrow as you stared pointedly at him in the mirror, not expecting you to retaliate with a light shove. Ensuing a nudging war, you attacked each other’s shoulders, getting caught in fits of giggles before you forced yourselves to split up, knowing nothing would get done if you both let it go on.
“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked through the gaping door of your room as he cleared a glass a water before bedtime, freshly out of a shower and the smell of his clean, light fragrance was beguiling even from a distance.
“Yeah. Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Mmh.” He stalked over in your direction, a feign innocent smile on his lips. “That's too bad. We only really have nights like these together, it seems at least only for a little while.”
“It is,” You said, lathering up the last bit of lotion up your legs, feeling his eyes on you as they traveled the path of your hands.
The silence engulfed you, as if both of you were waiting for the other to make a sudden move, yet both of you remained still. Like a predator with its prey, unsure who was who, you both stood with uncertainty and palpable tension hanging in the air, waiting for the other to strike when the moment was right. Even the usually confident Minghao stood back as he observed you from a distance, eyes flickering over at you as you strided slowly towards him guarded with crossed arms.
“I guess, I’ll go to sleep now,” You finally said.
His gaze softened, nodding. “Okay,” he smiled, “good night.”
“Good night, Minghao. Sleep well.”
If only you had taken your own words to heart.
That night, you couldn’t help but stare back at the ceiling, fiddling with the covers as the night’s events replayed in your head like a home movie, your thoughts traveling at a million miles a minute, too fast for you to stop and collect them—let alone process them—and stole your precious slumber. So, as you lay in bed awake at night, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for the night to take you, waiting for the fatigue and sleep to come, it never arrived. Instead, your eyes ripped open, heart pounding in your chest as you sat up from the mattress and tore the covers off your body. Your legs pushed you off the bed and lifted yourself off, carrying yourself out the room and out the hallway with determined steps until faltering at the threshold of another front door before you softly knocked.
You turned the knob, the door creaked open and you peeked your head through to see your roommate on the other end in bed, torso visibly bare as he slowly sat up at his late night intrusion. “Hey,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up.”
“I think it’s the coffee,” you excused, clutching the edge of the door, “I can’t sleep.”
Wordlessly, he nodded, stretching an arm to beckon you towards him, and you slowly inched closer to him until you were completely under the covers. Occupying the space beside him, you nestled into the contours of his body as his arm cushioned the side of your head before facing one another, silence enveloping you. The only sound that bit into the silence was muted traffic, infinitely alive outside the walls of your confines. While it looked peaceful, and you felt as though you could melt into his arms, neither of you looked as if you were trying to sleep.
Rather, you stared at one another, making sleep even harder to attain as you traced every feature and took them in as if they were brushstrokes on a painting. Minghao may have worked with art every day, but he was a work of art in his own right, and you couldn’t help favor him above all others. You didn’t need a Van Gogh or Picasso, you had an original, a one of a kind Minghao.
And that’s when you saw his eyes begin to drift, lowering to the bottom half of your face, lips parting in intrigue as his breath fanned lightly against your cheeks. Your face flush in response, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth before they were caught, finding yourself doing the same with him and watching his mouth move in anticipation. You felt your pulse in your throat as much as you felt it between your legs, feeling arousal pooling and soaking your shorts.
“Do you want to wager another bet?” Minghao softly offered.
“What kind?” You breathed.
“The same bet, same prize. Do you think I’ll kiss you, or will I pull away?”
You mused at him, fingers extending toward him reluctantly, aiming for a lock of his hair laying stray on his forehead before smoothing it over his head, softly stroking him, feeling him lean into your touch. “Hmm, this time you’ll…kiss me,” you whispered with absolute certainty. “The tension is practically eating you alive.”
A grin stretched wide across his cheeks as a hand softly clasped over your face, thumb swiping across your cheek. “Right again.”
He closed the gap, slotting his lips between yours and languidly moving against you, letting you chase after his pace. You sighed against him, feeling his hand on your hip as he pulled your torso against his, the other rested against the nape of your neck as he reveled in your heat. Hands flying in his hair, you softly moaned as he kneaded your skin, feeling him trace the inside of your mouth with his tongue before he roughly pulled your weight from the mattress to topple you over him, letting your legs card between his.
“Minghao,” you quietly sounded against his lips, crushing your hips against his groin and hearing his sweet moan in response.
His muscles tensed as you pressed against him, while his legs clung to your thighs. His hands ran over the shape of your figure, unearthing an ungodly moan from your lips as he slipped beneath your shorts, etching over the curve of your ass and claiming your raw flesh in his hands, pushing you against him assertively.
You whimpered, grinding against him. “I know my wish.”
“Anything,” He tenderly mumbled.
“Call off work tomorrow.”
He smiled against your lips, bringing one of his knees to pin your bodies closer together. “Means you should too.”
“Oh, definitely,” You confirmed before reconnecting your mouths in a frenzied liplock.
Feeling the grind of your hips as his pelvis crushed against yours, his grunts slipped through every caress as his hand moved up your back. Soon, you started feeling something you had yet to see from Minghao in all your time living with him, the part of him you managed to evade but have envisioned a multitude of times, growing in his sweatpants and rubbing against your thigh the closer your bodies were.
“I have never wanted someone so bad,” He whispered in a soft ache.
His hands crept underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, pressing against the small of your back. Pressing his torso towards you, his erection adhered to your thigh, the tension coiling in your stomach burned like wildfire, at an unstoppable rage. “Minghao,” you mewled, impatience singeing on your tongue.
“Somehow, I can still taste coffee on your breath, but I don't really mind it. It tastes really good on you,” He admitted before kissing you deeper, his moans buzzing against your mouth, hungry and alive as his hands dug into your flesh with utter greed.
“You taste really good too.” Your hand body scoured south, cupping his size under your palm and tasting his gasp as you sucked him between your lips. “I wonder what else tastes good.”
“You are something else,” he mumbled, through quiet chuckles. “Just like you to act on impulse.”
You let out a light scoff. “You are so—”
“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” he softly warned with a smirk.
“I’m not the one you have to worry about finishing.”
You moved down, the covers draped over your head as you kept your eyes on him and resting on the hem of his sweats. Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat, gulping while he felt your nails lightly claw against his bare torso, tugging the waistband off the tent he forged, revealing the lack of underwear and restraint he had left, now sprung against your face.
“Shit,” you said grinning, claiming him by the shaft, thumbing over the precum glistening at the tip. “Even your cock looks pretty.”
A soft pink decorated his cheeks and a hand meekly shielded part of his face. “You staring is how I got myself hurt in the first place.”
“Then I’ll be careful not to hurt you this time—that is, unless you want me to.”
You spat on his cock, a translucent ribbon stretching from your tongue to his length. Your saliva lubing your knuckles, you squeezed his girth in your grip as you stroked and felt him pulse in your hands, growing bigger the tighter you clenched. Minghao’s arms propped himself up and behind him as his chest heaved, blood pumping with every drag of your fingers, shallow breaths slipping out of him as he fisted the sheets beneath him.
You kissed the curve of the head, lips pursed to wrap lightly around him, suckling down his shaft, and feeling him twitch against your mouth when you chuckled. He softly whined, his hand extended toward you to tenderly caress the side of your head and tacitly pleading with you as you teased him. Showing him mercy, you took him with an eager mouth, closing your lips around his cock as you steadied your gaze on him. Moans vibrating around his girth, your tongue tucked on the underside of his shaft, hands wrapped tightly around his base.
“Mmmh like that.” He swallowed, exhaling through his teeth the deeper you took him. His abdomen flexing overtly as you moaned around him, vibrated against his skin, your pink muscle tracing over his veins as you worked your jaw to hug a tighter grip. “God, you’re perfect. Don’t stop, please…” he panted.
He palmed at your hair headily, his motor skills not properly functioning as he sucked in his breath, feeling his presence explore deeper. He leveraged his hips to regain some ounce of control, but the sounds of moisture and squelching burned his ears, and the heart in his chest was running like a marathon. His eyes, fluttering in and out of focus, trained his gaze on you while his stomach tensed, grasping the vision of you getting wide-eyed and bold as you gingerly ate him alive. Burning the image into his retinas, it made him want to explode inside you.
Threading through your hair, he pulled them up and off your shoulders, showing off your pretty features, doing everything in his power not to give his climax an early appearance. “I’ve never seen such a pretty mouth take my cock so well. Then again, I’ve never had a pretty roommate like you, or anyone like you.”
Flustered from the flattery, you sucked him like your life depended on it as you grew hot, making Minghao’s task to regain control strenuous to achieve. You hollowed out your cheeks, leaving no room to breathe, and felt him in your throat as your vision rolled to behind your skull to the point your language deduced to the sounds of gagging. You gripped his hips, nails plunged into his flesh as your drool dribbled down his groin, slobbering over his cock in an erratic, hungry mess.
“Yes, like that. My god,” He praised through ragged breaths, hips jerking gently up into you. He lightly threw his head back, the urge to ram himself down your throat getting exceedingly more tempting, but he suppressed it as he dug his nails into his own palms. “I’m so close to cumming, can I–in your mouth or should I…?”
You hummed a confirmation before you swallowed him whole until you met the base, meeting his groin as he vanished inside you, breathing oxygen not even an afterthought. Images in front of you dulled in color, pictures shapeless and unclear, and you pushed past your boundaries to let him find home in your mouth, deeply intent with him finishing inside you one way or the other.
“F…f…fuck...”
Pleasure rippling through him, Minghao pushed himself up from his position, thrusting weakly as he cradled your head, pouring his thick, ivory load into your mouth, which was insistent on receiving every drop. He filled your cheeks, allowing warmth to coat the inside of your mouth as he tenderly stroked your hair in gratitude. Cupping your cheeks as he let his hips falter, he gently pulled himself out of your mouth, amused at how carefully you were trying to not let any of his cum seep past your lips as you sat between his legs.
His fingers danced under your chin. “Are you gonna swallow?” Minghao tiredly chuckled.
With smiling eyes, you tilted your head, as if asking if you should.
He pushed your hair behind you, softly pressing his lips against your tightly shut lips. “Don’t if you don’t want to.”
An idea occurred to you then, and in an instant you pushed yourself up to board him as your knees took either side of him, looming over him. His hands naturally found your waist as you lifted his chin, eyes staring at you curiously as his hands ran up body and gently clawed down, awaiting your next move. You then thumbed over his bottom lip before dipping between the slit of his mouth and saw it naturally part, taking the digit and settling it between his teeth.
Now confidently, you lowered your head, swirling the contents in your mouth before pushing your thumb deeper, prying the entrance wider, and finding no protest as he sanctioned it. He dug the pads of his digits into your flesh in anticipation. His eyes fluttering, he watched as your mouth withdrew the generous gift he gave to you before you gave it right back to him as it gracefully streamed down on his pulsing, eager tongue. And nothing satisfied you more than hearing him sigh wistfully as it landed.
It sent you shivers how beautiful he looked despite how vulgar the act was. Only Xu Minghao could make tasting his own cum look so ethereal, and it only made you wonder what other things a face this beautiful was willing to do. You swiped whatever fell from the corner of his lips with your thumb, sucking the residue like leftovers before you connected your mouths, sharing and tasting his lewd tang in violent swirls, and pulling away to watch it stretch between your tongues.
“I guess toothbrushes aren’t the only things you like to share,” Minghao teased before pushing you on your back, grinding his resurrecting arousal against your clothed heat and lathering the thick, viscous substance flat between your tongues in your mouths as it dribbled down your chins until there was nothing but slobber. It was a mess, and the most unmannerly you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve never been more turned on.
“My turn.”
With a rough hand, he tugged you by your legs towards him, hearing you let out a yelp, and shoved down your shorts to expose your glistening, mouth-watering, arousal soaked entrance. Be still his heart. He felt himself throb seeing you ruin his bed, but hell if he wasn't going to be sucking those juices out of the sheets until he’d tasted every drop.
He kicked off his sweats, leaving him entirely vulnerable while you witnessed his cock slowly twitch back to life before he laid on his stomach between your arched legs. “If we want to talk about pretty things, your pussy is high up on that list.”
Not waiting for a response, he licked a thick stripe up your inner thigh, flickering over your folds before sucking them in his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to tease your entrance. He felt the flutter of your core before spitting, lathering at the juices, coating at entrance but not peeking to see what was inside. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”
“Hao…” You whined.
“Mmmh, I love how you sound,” he chuckled, running long strokes up your slit, wedged through you with every swipe, looking arm around your leg to hold you in place as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Are your moans always this delicious? Or are they reserved for when you’re thinking about me?”
Shaking your head, you were too turned on to answer verbally, while his mouth closed around your clit and sucked, utilizing his fingers to assume their previous position. You clenched your stomach, fisting into the sheets as you spread your legs, feeling them already clam up from the tension as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bud in unison with his fingers twisted up into, and you couldn’t help but writhe underneath him.
“Yes, spread those pretty legs for me,” he encouraged with a haughty smile before burying his face, his moans vibrating up your walls as his tongue massaged your walls and tasted your cock pulsing nectar, sending chills up your spine.
You mewled, and feeling reserved, you held your hands up to your face to shield the tears collecting at your eyes threatening to fall, but Minghao grabbed you by the wrists, roughly pinning them to the bed.
His eyes narrowed back at you before softening almost menacingly, “Don’t cover your pretty face, watch me.”
“But—”
“I want you to watch me fuck your pretty pussy with my mouth. Don’t make me say it twice.” He warned before he got you a quiet nod, earning you a kiss against your inner thigh.
His hand flattened against your inner thighs again, pressing them further away from another and delving his tongue deeper as he rubbed your clit, working your insides until he tasted every inch of you possible. He buried his face, but his eyes were clear, staring at you as he worked his jaw, engorging with his mouth that sent you above and beyond and his eyes that saw you at the result of your undoing. You had no choice but to cling on, freeing yourself from his grasp to have your fingers fly in his hair, navigating him as you took him for a joy ride, his tongue shifting gears as it picked up pace.
“S-shit!” You rolled your hips, threading your fingers through his locks and clamping his head between your thighs as you pushed him deeper.
“Yes, ride my face—fuck, use me, please,” he pleaded in a cracked voice, pouring his heart into his feast until he was practically suffocating, worth it to worship you and bring you to the highest peak of your pleasure.
Your legs trembled as his moans infiltrated your heat, the intense flicks of his tongue titillating you to the brink of ecstasy until he used it to fuck you in time with his fingers thrusting inside, clutching you as you held him in place and grinding against him. “My god, Hao!”
Hips shaking, you bucked into his mouth, and even after your release, he made no effort to stop, lifting you to his mouth as he got on his knees, eating you like a meal he’d never have again until he worked his tongue raw, tasting you and only you as your cum coated his mouth. You squirmed, the suction of his lips on your sensitive core in tandem with his tongue viciously swirling inside you overwhelming you beyond words, unable to kick him off as he held both your knees above his head.
“You’re gonna kill me, Hao,” you cried desperately. “Just put it in me.”
He chuckled before setting you down, meeting your lips halfway as he stroked his fully erect cock, massaging the evening’s concoction against your tastebuds, mingling the contrasting flavors as they battled in your mouth while the knowledge of it all pebbled your skin. Meanwhile, he ran his hands over you beneath your shirt, found your nipples, rolling them against his thumbs as his cock rubbed between your folds, ebbing your moans as they buzzed against his lips. “What if I want to play with you first?” He taunted.
You whined, brushing your lips repeatedly over his. “I want you inside me.”
“You’re cute even when you’re needy,” he gushed.
You clasped your hands over his soft, warm cheeks. “Minghao, please…”
He playfully rolled his eyes, kissing into your palm then down your wrist before his teeth playfully started nibbling at your skin. “Fine, because you asked so nicely. Just to let you know, though, I don’t have a condom on me right now, but I’m clean.”
“Then, we don’t need one.”
He grinned, stroking the back of your head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Rubbing his tip down your slit, he savored your whimpers as he drew circles against your clit before sliding his length through your folds and stretching your walls, letting you slowly adjust to his presence. Your jaw slightly dropped as you took a sharp inhale, fingers digging into his shoulders and clinging on to him before you felt him sink deeper inside you, pacing his thrusts in a steady rhythm. Your eyes flit to meet his, feeling the back and forth of his hips as they snapped, while you reveled in each collision.
“Yes please…”
Before losing himself in his pleasure, he was determined to remember how you looked getting lost in yours, taking in your features as they distorted under his care. He first found your eyes–lost in a galaxy with an infinite amount of stars out of the way. Then, his eyes started to follow the slope of your cheeks, flushed to the touch against the back of his hand, saliva leaking out of your swollen lips. And your body with the shirt adhered to you by the sweat on your skin, clinging to your form and proving to him time and time again that you were not only the object of his desires, you were something straight out of his dreams.
“You look, taste, and feel good? Where have you been all my life? Really?” He landed a harsh thrust, pressing down on your nipples and smiling manically at how you whimpered in response, clutching you as you shuddered against him. “You like that?”
You nodded, clawing your hand up his back.
“Mmh, me too,” he drew his lips to your ear. “And I like you. A lot. I wouldn’t let someone go on and use my toothbrush for months if I didn’t.” He slowed down his thrusts, cupping your face to meet your eyes. “You like me too, right?”
Feeling your ears burn, you frantically nodded again, mewling after you felt him nip at them, teeth scraping under your earlobe before an open mouth pressed against the side of your neck. The warmth of his breath sweltering against you as you struggled to carry on with the conversation Minghao was determined to have.
“Yeah, you want me to take you on a real date?” He said into the nape of your neck, moaning into your skin as he dragged his hips, rutting into you like an animal. He barely made out your soft ‘yes’s in your sharp gasps. He gritted his teeth, taking you by the hips, pushing himself flushed against you. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he groaned.
His hips took flight while he separated your mouth in a loud moan, feeling you becoming malleable under his touch and growing weaker as you recoiled against him. He lifted your shirt above your chest and neared your stiff peaks, rolling your bud against the base of his tongue as he pinched the other, moving out of pure instinct. You threw your head back, going mad with sexual gratification. Your body spasmed out of your control, yet you craved more.
“Harder,” You gasped.
He scoffed under his breath in disbelief. “You want even more?”
“Yes…I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel everything that’s yours, Minghao.”
Knees buckling at your titillating request, he gripped your ass in both palms, clutching you against him as he rammed himself up inside you, and you’re forced to hold on. “I’ll do you one better,” he offered, “why don’t I just make you mine?”
“I…Oh, god…” Your brain was becoming mush, only processing the sound, taste, smell, sensation of Minghao’s cock as he plunged himself inside you. It fogged up your thoughts, clouded your judgement, and only formed incoherent gibberish that took place of real vocabulary as they passed through your swollen lips.
“Be mine, hmm?” He asked, pleading. “That way I can be yours.”
Captivated by his words, you nodded, feeling him suck the life out of you as your body felt close to giving out, the hilt of his cock bottoming out inside you. You anchored your legs around him, following his pace before you felt something within reach, just seconds away from ripping a scream out of your throat that would surely ensue a noise complaint from one of your neighbors.
“Hao, I’m going to cum, I’m really close,” you meekly warned.
His hand settled against your thigh, nodding. “I can feel it. You’re shaking so hard. Let me have it, I’ll catch you. Every last bit of you.”
Ecstasy was just a word, but Minghao was everything, and you could breathe in that everything.
Your bodies crushed against each other, lost in heat as you became one. Breaths blended, bodies embraced, only faltering after you long finished the initial orgasms, coming back for more. You embraced the sheer carnivorous lust that quelled this several month long push and pull, adhering you by the sweat misted on each other's skin before your mouths tenderly met repeatedly.
Sleep felt futile, while the night felt everlasting. Minghao’s company was more than you could ever ask for, and by the time you did sleep, you were too tired to move. You collapsed against each other, bodies drowning in each other’s releases, sheets and pillows stained by the arousal from the evening’s lack of inhibitions. Minghao should’ve been just as tired, but instead he tended to your tired body, leaving kisses in its wake as he cleaned you off and slept alongside you in your clean bed, letting him worry about laundry in the morning.
With your eyes closed, mind in another world, Minghao was brushing the hair away from your face, softly smiling as you gently stirred and nestled closer to him. In response, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, warmth blooming in his chest as a grin developed on your face.
“I’ll take you on a proper date. I promise,” he said while you slept. “And If I don’t, pull the bad roommate card on me. You can punish me however you like.”
“…ok, I will.”
#thediamondlifenetwork#seventeen#the8#xu minghao#minghao#minghao smut#the8 smut#xu minghao smut#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#minghao fanfic#xu minghao fanfic
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Feasting on You
The sequel to part one: Afternoon Appointments
WARNING: SMUT. THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF THE SMUT FEST I AM PUTTING MYSELF THROUGH. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY YOU LOVELY PEOPLE. MINORS DNI.
Fluff, declarations of love, Beron Vanserra being the absolute worst person alive, unprotected sex with the hope of pregnancy (male and female receiving). Breeding? Again, they're trying to have an heir so I guess? Jealousy, infidelity/sex-work. Mentions of infertility and the struggle to get pregnant, vaginal penetration with fingers and penis, fingering, it's a menu, pick what you want.
Word Count: 6,022 - Hard to believe I work full time.
Since all y'all wonderful people seemed to enjoy the last smut-post I made I figured I'd continue, especially on the day of love. It's not going to be too much longer, maybe one or two more parts but again, it's my palette cleanser from my agonizing slow burn of myself.
Summary: Eris, your mate joins you for dinner after a rather disheartening conversation with his council over your combined failure to produce an heir to the court. After denial of his father's suggestion, Eris hopes to remind you just how devoted he is to you, and only you.
SMUT BELOW THIS LINE. BE AWARE.
Long after the sun had dipped below the horizon, you finally made your way into the grand dining room for dinner. The table stretched before you, a lavish display nearly overflowing with an abundance of meats, vegetables, and freshly baked breads. It seemed as if the kitchen perpetually prepared as though they were feeding a family of ten, never quite adjusting to cater solely to you and Eris. Dinner was a sacred time reserved just for the two of you, a cherished ritual unless you were hosting guests. As long as no visitors graced your halls, or neither of you was summoned away on a diplomatic venture, you always reunited for dinner—a time to recap the day's events, reconnect with each other, and recenter your spirits.
As you entered the room, the fae-light chandelier cast a gentle glow above, its flickering light dancing across the walls. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting long shadows. Yet, you found yourself alone. Evidently, your mate had not yet managed to extricate himself from his own pressing duties. You eased into a seat at the magnificently carved table, pouring yourself a glass of rich, ruby-red wine. Settling back into the large, high-backed chair, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe in the enveloping silence.
Life before the mating bond had certainly never been dull. As the daughter of a prominent merchant residing near the border of the Autumn Court, your days were a whirlwind of activity—entertaining guests, immersing yourself in study, assisting with the intricacies of business dealings, and attending court. Yet now, it seemed you rarely found a moment to draw a breath, as the demands of your new life swept you along in their relentless current.
The sharp, rhythmic clatter of boots echoed down the hallway, each step growing louder until Eris' familiar scent—a mix of pine and something musky—filled the air before he even appeared. You turned your head eagerly to welcome him, but as he stepped through the gracefully arched doorway, it was impossible to miss the storm cloud hovering over his expression. His forehead was knitted in a deep frown, and his hair was tousled, evidence of the restless fingers that had clearly raked through it more than once. His shoulders were rigid, like a bow drawn taut, ready to release. Most telling of all was his failure to flash that usual bright smile upon seeing you.
Eris approached the table with a slowing gait, just enough to lean forward. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder and gave you a kiss, yet it lacked its usual fervor, missing the lingering, breath-stealing passion that typically marked his arrival.
When he broke from the kiss, he settled into the seat across from you and immediately reached for the bottle to pour himself a glass. You watched him closely, studying the lines of his face. "Everything okay?" you asked.
Eris looked up from pouring, set the bottle down, and took a long gulp from his glass before answering. "I'm fine," he replied, though his tone didn't quite convince.
"You don't seem fine, my love," you said.
Eris placed his glass back on the table, adjusting in his seat as he exhaled deeply. "It's nothing," he insisted.
“Well, it sure seems like something,” you pressed further. “What happened between now and earlier today?”
Besides his habit of running his hands through his ginger hair when anxious, his constantly shaking leg was another dead giveaway. Something had definitely happened; you just couldn’t pinpoint out what.
You mentally sorted through a list of potential issues. The Autumn Court was currently thriving, and nothing urgent came to mind that could have dampened his mood, especially when he had been so lively earlier.
Eris had averted his eyes to the table, trying to keep his gaze from meeting yours. Normally, when he was hiding something from you, he would avoid looking at you at all. The second your eyes would meet his the entire facade he had been wearing would erode—something that served you well, but at times tormented him.
“Eris—” you urged softly, your voice low and laced with affection and also a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored. “Tell me what’s happening, my love.”
After a tense, lingering silence, he finally lifted his gaze. His tongue licked over his teeth—a nervous, winding gesture—as he weighed the right words for whatever was on his mind. “I don’t want to upset you,” he murmured.
Tilting your head ever so slightly, you replied with the same calm insistence, “Well, now that I know it’s about me, I think it’s even more important that I know what’s going on.”
With a resigned sigh, Eris leaned forward over the table. “Before I say anything, I need you to understand that I in no way endorse what was said, nor will I act on any of it,” he declared.
A frown creased your brow, the confusion and creeping anxiety twisting deeper like thorns in your stomach.
He hesitated, eyes darting from yours to the table and back in a silent plea of understanding or perhaps more time to cushion the blow. “My father—”
You arched your head back and released a low, sour growl, the sound echoing the bitter disappointment that bubbled within you. “Oh, so it’s your father,” you retorted.
Your loathing for Beron Vanserra was as fierce as Eris’s own—its roots tangled in a history spanning decades. Beron had all but attempted to murder Eris once he’d been almost forced to abdicated the High Lordship, on the strict condition that he remain at Eris’s side as part of the council. Beyond his controlling tyranny and his cruel, abusive past with both his wife and sons, Beron harbored a deep hatred for you. To him, you were the shadow behind Eris’s newfound courage to challenge his rule, the unseen poison that had emboldened his favorite son against him. In your defense, you had spoken little of any ambition concerning Eris’s potential ascension. You had maintained that the choice should be solely his, offering nothing but unwavering support in the swells of his decision making. Yet when Beron was receiving Eris’s propostion, you were standing just outside the council chamber as he hurled ignoble slurs—”whore and “power-hungry bitch”—in your direction. In that moment, Eris had come perilously close to severing his father’s head in retribution. Ever since, the mere whisper of Beron’s name left a bitter, acrid taste in your mouth.
Casting a dagger-like glance toward your mate—a look darkened by resentment. “And what, prey tell, does my remarkably kind father-in-law have to say about me now?” you challenged.
Eris’s gaze dropped back to the table as he deftly twirled one of the silver forks between his fingers, the metal glinting under the soft light. “He made it abundantly clear that he believes we’re taking too long to produce an heir,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.
You rolled your eyes, letting out a deep, exasperated sigh that seemed to echo through the room. “And what does he expect us to do about it? It’s not as if we haven’t been trying,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.
Eris nodded, his warm hand reaching across to rest reassuringly over yours. “He knows that,” he reassured, his touch grounding. “Everyone on the council is aware of that.”
In any other realm, the notion of ten elderly council members being privy to your and your mate’s rather passionate and frequent attempts to conceive would send a shiver down your spine. Yet, the matter of an heir was of paramount importance to the court, with significant interest vested in ensuring the High Lord had a successor.
“So what now?” you questioned, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “What does he suggest I do? Since he’s clearly an expert in fertility healing,” you added, the words dripping with irony.
Eris’s father had once suggested that unless his son exercised “complete and total control” over you, preventing you from “running wild around the court making a spectacle of yourself,” you would never produce an heir. He had deemed you ���too loose” and “brazen,” criticizing the way you carried yourself with confidence and poise.
That choice of words had almost driven you to seize one of Eris’s swords, your mind briefly entertaining the thought of storming into his father’s chambers to slit his throat. But Eris had physically restrained you, even while you kicked back at him with the strength of a donkey.
Eris took a deep breath, his eyes focused intently on the spot where his fingers traced gentle, rhythmic circles on the back of your hand. "He had suggested that if we didn't conceive within the next year, I should consider taking on a mistress."
The word "mistress" struck you like a physical blow, and your vision blurred as shock settled over you. The mere thought of your mate entwined with another female sent a surge of fiery indignation through you, making you want to storm out of the dining room and stab your fork right into Beron's eye. "I see," you replied, your voice strained as you clenched your napkin in your lap so tightly that you feared your nails might splinter and snap under the pressure.
Eris squeezed your hand reassuringly, his voice soft and earnest. "You know I would never do that."
Your eyes snapped up to meet his, your words laced with an intensity that surprised even you. "Did you tell him that?"
Eris momentarily looked taken aback by the sharpness in your tone, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course I did, my love."
Your lower lip trembled with anger, and you blinked rapidly to keep the hot tears from spilling over, even as they threatened to escape. You shook your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check. "Just because your mother was the most fertile female to have ever been born doesn't mean that I am too."
"I know that," Eris reassured, his voice steady and calm.
"What?!" you exclaimed, your exasperation giving way to anger. "Does he think I'm just toxic? Does he think I'm willing myself to be sterile?"
Eris exhaled softly, a hint of weariness in his sigh. "I don't know what he thinks, but ultimately it doesn't matter."
“What did the other council members say?” You asked, your voice quivering as though it might shatter.
Eris hesitated, and the silence felt like a lead weight sinking your stomach.
“They’re eager for an heir, sooner rather than later.”
A wave of nausea surged through you, and you stared blankly at the table, gnawing at your cheek.
Eris’s hand enveloped yours, a gentle anchor trying to pull you back to the present. “It’s going to be alright,” he whispered.
You lifted your gaze to meet his, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Would you do it?” You asked quietly, each word laden with fear.
Eris’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Would you take on a mistress if I couldn’t give you an heir?” You pressed.
His mouth fell open, disbelief etched in his features. He leaned closer, the golden glimmer of his eyes shimmering as he gazed at you, unwavering. “Of course not, my love. I would never do that to you.”
“Yes, but if I couldn’t—“ You stammered, words tumbling out in a rush, “couldn’t give you a child, for the good of the court, would you?”
Eris paused, and for a moment, the room seemed to echo with the sound of your heart, shattering.
“No—no,” he shook his head vehemently, as if dismissing the thought itself. “I would never, ever, do that to you.”
“What if I gave my blessing?” You whispered, a tear tracing down your cheek in a long, wet line.
“Why would you even suggest such a thing?” He asked, his continued bewilderment turning almost into fear.
You shrugged, tears now readily overflowing. “It’s vital that you continue your line. That you pass on your gifts to a successor.” A pause, a deep breath to muster courage. “If it came down tot he continuation of the court and my happiness, it would be selfish—treasonous of me to stand in the way.”
Eris rose from his seat, only to descend to his knees before you, clasping your hands in his own trembling grasp. His eyes, filled with an ocean of sorrow, met yours, as if the sheer weight of your tears was enough to fracture his soul. “My love,” he began, his voice soft, unwavering. “The Mother bestowed upon me the blessing of finding my mate, my missing half. The other fragment of my soul that I once despaired for ever knowing.” His thumbs caressed the backs of your hands. “She wove our paths together, for in every essence—mind, body, and soul—we are destined to intertwine. To share the tapestry of our lives side by side. No world exists where I could desire—crave—anyone but you. You are as entwined within me as I am within myself, and to bear a child with another would desecrate the sacred blessing the Mother bestowed upon me in the form of you.” He looked down, shaking his head with a soft, incredulous laugh. “In truth, I don’t think I could ever be with anyone else again. You have unraveled me and rebuilt me in your essence.” He paused, his gaze locking on yours with fiery intensity. “If it came to that, I would rather throw away my title than be with any other. And I mean that with every fiber of my being.”
“Eris—“ you began, trying to cut him off. The notion was outrageous, a fantasy. For him to renounce his title, the very thing he had dedicated his entire life to achieving, just because you might not produce an heir was beyond all comprehension. But before your voice could protest, he interrupted you with a fierce determination.
“My love, there is no universe where I could cherish any child as I would cherish ours. We have all the time in the world to try, and if fate decides otherwise, then we will embrace the truth that our destiny is to spend eternity together. And for me, that is more than enough.”
Your heart swelled and you leaned forwards out of your chair into Eris’s waiting arms. He wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your waist, the other gently cradling the back of your head, his fingers massaging into your hair, you let out sobs, each one a release of the pent-up feelings of anger and intense sadness, mingling with the loving devotion of your mate. He pressed kiss after gentle kiss into your temple, his lips warm and reassuring, as he rocked you back and forth until you could find your balance once more. You leaned back, feeling the heat of your flushed face, tendrils of hair sticking to your skin, dampened by your tears. A soft laugh escaped you as you wiped your face with trembling hands. “I’m sorry—I look like a mess.”
Eris gently pulled your hands away, cupping your cheeks with a tenderness that you melted into. “You look beautiful,” he whispered. He leaned forwards, kissing your forehead. You closed your eyes, inhaling his scent deeply, a mixture of smoke and spice that grounded you. Your mate. Your devoted, love-sick mate who would willingly burn his entire life to the ground if it meant securing your happiness.
Looking down at you, he chuckled softly. “Though,” he began, “I‘d by lying if I said that I am not more than a little happy that I can continue to fuck you senseless.” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “For the good of the court, of course.”
You laughed in a response, a small hiccup escaping you. “Of course,” you drawled, wiping at your face. “We couldn’t so easily forget our duties.”
He threw a quick glance at the table, still laden with untouched food before he turned his smoldering eyes back to you. “Are you hungry?” He asked, a rather teasing edge in his voice.
Your response was a gentle shake of your head. “No, unfortunately. Not so much anymore.”
A sinful grin slowly spread across Eris’ face, causing a heated shiver to travel down your spine. “Well then, my love, let’s use this precious time for more…intimate responsibilities,” he suggested.
His body left yours as he stood, gazing up at him. “Perhaps I should remind you just how deep my devotion to you truly runs.”
His devilish grin widened as he waited for your response. “And how would you do that, my lord?” You asked, your voice lilting just slightly.
Eris wasted no time as he swept the table clean with one strong arm; plates and platters crashed to the floor in a a rush of chaos that had you jumping back slightly from where he stood. His attention returned to you instantly, bending down to grip your hips firmly and hoisting you onto the now clear table.
Hunger evident in his eyes, he gently parted your thighs and leaned closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he pushed your hair aside. The sensation of his lips and teeth exploring the sensitive skin beneath left you breathless.
“You made a mess,” you managed to moan out rather than complain.
A low growl vibrated against your chest as he nipped at your ear. “I’ll take care of it later.”
Your hands found their way to his broad shoulders, gripping them in a fervor, your nails sinking into the firm muscle hidden beneath his shirt. He yanked you closer, his powerful hands anchored securely on the swell of your hips, grinding into you with carnal intent. “Fuck, you‘re divine,” he groaned against your ear, his voice like whiskey and smoke.
You learned your head back, offering him the full expanse of your neck and chest like a sacrificial alter. “You’re my whole universe,” he murmured, his heat-soaked world painting an intoxicating image of obsession. “You’re the reason I wake in the mornings, why I draw breath.”
His roving hands ventured away from your hips, hiking up the hem of your gown until it rode high on your thighs. His fingers fanned out along the softness of your flesh, kneading and caressing as he pressed his body into yours.
He claimed your mouth in a heated kiss, his lips parting in tandem with yours to allow for a passionate exploration, his tongue danced with yours in a sweet torment that had you gasping for air. Your fingers tangled into his wild hair, pulling and yanking at the strands as you sought something solid to anchor yourself.
The blistering heat simmering between your thighs danced enticingly against the bulge of his throbbing arousal, igniting a wire fire that shot through every nerve ending in your body.
Eris, with a low growl, bit onto your lip, his teeth marking you before he withdrew, leaving a pang of emptiness behind. His gaze fell down on his tan trousers, now stained with the evidence of your own rampant desire. “Eager little minx,” he purred, a lascivious grin on his face as he released himself from the constraints of his clothing, his trousers still sitting low on his chiseled hips.
Your breath hitched at the sight of him, stroking his thick, inviting shaft with an insatiable hunger glistening in his eyes that made you feel like the most desirable female in existence.
Discarding your own demureness, you hiked up your skirts, revealing your drenched panties acting as the final barrier to the ecstasy that Eris was promising.
Pushing them aside, Eris’ eyes darkened even more—if possible—as he watched them snag and stretch against your slick, glistening skin.
Your arousal was so peak high that the mere touch of the fabric skimming over you had you gasping out moans that sounded like sweet melodies in his ears.
As he pleasured himself, your eyes locked onto him. His rhythm hastened at the sight of your unveiled desire. You widened the inviting gap of your thighs, keeping your eyes focused on him as he seemed to lean back into his hips, arching his back, letting out a load, audible groan.
You traced your fingers up your satin-like inner thighs, teasing the edges of your exposed core. Your head feel back in anticipation, caught up in the erotic symphony of Eris’s hand colliding against and again with his hard length mixed with the intoxicating sounds of his small moans.
Your hands ventured further down, your fingers exploring the trail of your desire. As you pulled your fingers apart a shining residue of your arousal was left glistening on each one of them. You tantalizingly brought them to your lips, tasting your own sweetness.
“Fuck—“ Eris growled out as you opened your sultry eyes, casting him a heavy look of need. “What I’d do for you,” he groaned.
You traced your hand down the length of your body. “And what would you do for me, my lord?” You purred back as your hand returned to your core. You used two fingers to spread yourself to reveal the jewel of pleasure that Eris craved so passionately.
At the display, he released a trembling groan and swallowed hard against what you thought might be a trembling climax that he was already at the edge of. “I’d burn whole realms for you,” he growled fiercely. You slid a finger down through the center of your split core. “I’d tear apart anyone who laid claim to you.” As you circled your clit, a shaking moan that escaped from you. “I’d pull the gods from their thrones and place you atop them. I’d surrender my entire life for yours.” You gently slipped a finger into the welcoming heat, then another one followed rhythmically, driving the poor male into a frenzy as he tugged at himself. His cock now a deep crimson, almost throbbing with intense longing.
Your mind raced, suddenly conjuring up the unwanted vivid to a tableau of Eris, entwined passionately with another female. His resonant moans, those heady sounds you had so effortlessly drawn from him, now being elicited by her as he drove into her. His chiseled muscular back flexing as he rutted, sending trails of desire coursing through his veins as her unknown throat moaned out his name as he explored her curves like a playground.
Your brows furrowed, a challenge flashed in your eyes towards him as you amplified the rhythm of your own gratification. Your fingers danced over your clit, the pulsating caresses in synchrony with the fervent plunge and withdrawal of your other fingers into your heated depth. You pleasured yourself to this haunting image, a wildfire of rage and competitive desire fueling your passion forwards.
Eris seemed utterly captivated by the sight, he senses consuming him. He allowed himself to surrender into the intoxicating allure, his body responding to your own pace and matching the rhythm with his hand as his hips worked in tandem to work himself over.
You hadn’t wanted this imagery to clutter your thoughts. But everything spun into an uncontrollable whirl of erotic images and scenes, each successive the previous with more intense encounters between your mate and this unseen female.
Eris released a fragile whimper, his hand faltering ever so slightly, breaking the rhythm as though he was in a struggle to restrain himself. “I need to be deep inside of you,” his voice was raspy, almost a groan. “Let me feel the tight warmth of you clasping around me, my love.”
Barely thinking, your hands continued to move with skilled precision over your own body, each encounter with your skin sending tingles through you. You shot back at him, “Fuck me like it’s your last breath, with the desperation of a male starved for pleasure.“ You moaned lightly. “Like this might be your last taste of ecstasy.”
Eris seemed to flinch for a moment, his piercing eyes slightly unhinged by your phrasing. But when you increased the rhythm of your self-pleasure, your chest heaving in rapid succession of anticipation and tantalizing pleasure, he seemed to figure out that if he didn’t act quickly, you would reach that peak with or without him.
Eris moved closer, positioning his hard length at your inviting entrance as you held yourself open to him. He gripped his arousal at the base and carefully guided the throbbing head through the tightness, pushing all the way to the hilt. His breathing staggering hitched in his throat as the delicious warmth of you encasing him was overwhelmingly intoxicating.
He lingered for a slow, burning moment as he steadied himself. His eyes were shut tightly as he whimpered, like he was holding himself back.
Tenderly, your hands rose up to cup his face as he gazed down upon you. With your legs wrapped snugly around him, you whispered a sweet dare into the air. “Take me as if our existence depends on it.”
With one hand strategically positioned behind you for balance, Eris’s low growl echoed in the room as he forcefully gripped your hip, placing his other flexed hand on the table while driving powerfully into you. His thrusts were so ferocious that you slid back on the table, teetering on the edge of losing your positioning until Eris assertively yanked you back to the precipice. The air seemed charged with the tensed desire, both yours and his, magnifying by the desperation wrought by your circumstances. It was all raw, carnal passion—need.
His relentless pace did nothing to soothe his growing frustration towards how much you shifted with each stroke. Pulling back, his sculpted chest rose and fell rapidly with his labored breaths; he rasped out a simple command: “Bend over.”
You willingly complied, abandoning your perch on the table to present your torso over it’s smooth surface.
Eris traced a firm hand along your arching back, as he hitched your skirt back up revealing your bare essence to him once again. After teasing himself briefly, he repositioned himself and began again.
Your body sank beneath his touch as you leaned on your forearms and pressing into your toes to give him easier access. As he reclaimed his place within you, it felt like uncharted territory, a new depth that sent waves of pleasure through you—a heavy pressure that made your lower abdomen ache deliciously.
Your body responded without your conscious choice as you arched upwards, muscles straining as you supported yourself on shaking arms. Each thrust from Eris elicited short, desperate moans from your lips. His own grunts were beginning to take on a raw, primal edge as he drove into you relentlessly, his breath hissing through gritted teeth. His hand roamed from the small of your back to your shoulders, fingers digging in if trying to pull you even closer with each powerful pump. His muscled torso smashed against your soft curves in perfect rhythm, your bodies creating a symphony of harmonious moans and the slick clapping of skin against skin.
“Harder,” you panted out, your own fingers digging into the linen tablecloth.
His only response was a deeper, more powerful thrust, his hard cock filling every inch of you, deep enough to feel him in your stomach. You began to mirror his rhythm, arching your hips against his thighs. Each time he withdrew only to plunge back into you with heightened force that brought forth gasps of pleasure from both of you.
Eris’s strong hand found its way to your ass, gripping it with such intensity that you were certain to find a constellation of blue-purple reminders tomorrow. Your head fell forward languidly between your outstretched arms as he continued his relentless pounding. His fingers abandoned the tender flesh to circle the inner curve of your thigh, his muscled torso pressing into your trembling back as he leaned down onto you. His fingers danced down the length of your thigh before stopping at the apex of your core, drawing circles over the most tantalizing spot.
The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure so intense that your screams were muffled only by the table beneath you as he drove into you. His ragged moaning accompanying each thrust echoed in your ears. “That’s it,” he grunted. “Take it. Good girl, take every fucking inch of me.” His thrusts escalated in power, pushing your body against the sturdy table before releasing you over and over while his fingers continued to work your clit that throbbed with anticipation.
“Fuck, Eris—” You wheezed out in a sharp exhale.
“Say it, my love. Say my name.” He replied.
You recited his name like a confession until he started echoing yours with equal fervor.
Your toes tightened in your heels and a divine tingle of your climax started forming at the base of your skull.
In between stifled moans, you managed to utter out a warning, “Fuck, I’m on the edge, don’t stop!” It sounded more like a plea than a command.
Eris complied with no hesitation, his motions continuing as he pinched, circled and tugged at your clit which sent a jolt of pleasure through making you squirm beneath him.
As the delightful tingle began snaking down your spin, you felt the intense clenching sensation in your core, occurring in waves. It was the release you had been so intensely waiting for—burning a trail down your body like a wave of heat. It was as though your body pulsed around him, rhythmic waves, grasping and attempting to pull Eris over with you.
He was right on your heels. His thrusts persisted, driving you through the contractions of your orgasm until he could hold off no longer. You felt him give in to his lustful release deep within you, warm and more profound than any time you had been intimate before. He bent over you, his hands clutching at your hips as though they were his lifeline. You could practically feel the heat from his body as he moaned, a sharp intake of breath between gritted teeth accompanying each pulse as he spilled deep into you.
Finally, he descended from the euphoric peak, seeming to float back down to earth. His chest remained taut and panting as he eased off you, your face still resting on its side,
remnants of pleasure still coursing through you. He tenderly brushed strands of hair from your flushed face, his fingers ghostly against your skin as he planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “Are you alright?” His question was sincere, his other hand tracing comforting circles on your dampened back.
“Mm,” you responded, eyes still veiled by heavy lids.
Eris gradually separated himself from you, an audible moan escaping him at the final pull out, as if the sensation had sent shockwaves through his every nerve. His fingers leisurely explored your backside; even with your eyes closed, you could tell he was admiring his handiwork.
A low grunt slipped from him as his fingers traced up your slickened crevasse, painted in a cocktail of your combined arousal. “Fuck—” he muttered so quietly, that you knew it had been unintended. Suddenly and without warning, he plunged two fingers deep into you causing a breathy whimper to leap from your lips.
“There,” he whispered huskily, “None of it goes to waste.”
His fingers continued their dance inside you, lightly twisting and kneading your tender walls painted with his essence. Your response was a soft symphony of moans.
"Do you want more, my love?" He queried, his voice dipped in honeyed seduction. "Do you need more?"
You whimpered out an eager confirmation and as if on cue, Eris pulled away from you leaving a void that consumed you.
The harsh grating sound of a chair scraping against the floor reached your ears before his commanding voice followed with "Come here, my love.”
Turning your head slightly towards the sound, there he was—an arousing silhouette seated by the glow of the flickering firelight; his arousal rigid and glistening in its golden glow.
“Come,” he beckoned again, “I'll satisfy your craving.”
Rising off the table, your dress cascaded down around you and warm trails of your shared climax trickled down your trembling thighs.
As you approached him, wide-legged and inviting, he instructed, “Take off your dress.” His cock twitched in anticipation against his chiseled torso of his opened shirt.
Stopping before him, you slipped your heels off and made quick work of the ties securing your gown—it pooled at your feet.
Eris surveyed you with a savage, primal hunger, his lips moistening in undisguised desire. "Gods-damn gorgeous," he breathed out, voice husky as he stretched one hand towards you. You took it, and he drew you back into his sphere of heat and lust, turning you so your back pressed was to him, mere inches from his body. His hands rested on your ribs, fingertips tracing a tantalizing path along the curve of your sides down to the swell of your hips. His gentle tug guided you downwards onto his lap, onto his semi-hard cock that demanded attention. It entered you slowly, inch by agonizingly delicious inch, setting off a crescendo of moans from deep within you.
Eris allowed you to adjust to the exquisite intrusion, your ass settling on the curve of his thrusting hips that eagerly came forward to cradle you. You reclined languidly against his defined chest, your head nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder while his fingers danced along your thighs, guiding them open. The flickering fire provided a welcoming warmth against the sensual slickness that was still weeping out from within you, rolling down Eris' arousal and staining both pants and chair alike.
"That's it," he purred, "Spread your legs for me for me, love."
With him buried so deep within you moving seemed near impossible as waves of satisfaction washed over you. Yet he nudged them apart persistently, draping them over the chair's arms so that you were fully exposed and ripe for his enjoyment; completely naked in the heart of the dining room with Eris' rock-hard cock nestled snugly within you.
He kissed at your neck and shoulders, rocking his hips slowly, nothing like the punishing pace of splayed on the table, but just enough to continue to churn the orgasmic fluids that rested deep inside of you. At the same time, his fingers returned to your core, teasing over your clit with the pads of his fingertips in slow circles.
His other hand made it’s way to your breast, toying lightly at the pebbled nipple, twisting it in his fingers and light flicking it. His world revolved around you, and your soft, staggering moans were music to his ears.
Your body was still ablaze from the aftershocks of your previous peak, hypersensitive and yearning amidst the haze of pleasure. As he drove into you with languid yet powerful strokes from below, complementing it with the rhythmic play on your clit; it was all too much. You let out a delicate whimper before your body started convulsing again. “Surrender to me, love,” He urged. “I want to feel you fall apart again.”
Obediently, your body rippled against him as a fresh wave of euphoria crashed over you. Your skin sprouted goosebumps under his touch, and a loud moan escaped you as ecstasy took control once again.
Your body melted against him, utterly exhausted and breathless, as you lay cradled in his embrace, the aftermath of passion leaving you completely spent. With tender care, he swept your hair away from your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. He carefully lifted your body, handling you with the delicate touch one might use with fragile glass, before settling you back down on his chest, where his now relaxed member rested lightly against your back. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he whispered in your ear, pressing a warm kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you to bed, my sweet angel.”
My spay appointment is tomorrow at 8:00 AM. My mom can drop me off if yours can pick us up.
#eris x y/n#eris x you#eris x reader#eris vanserra fanfic#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra x reader#eris and reader#eris and you#eris vanserra smut#eris smut#acotar smut#acotar fanfiction smut#smut#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#eris fic
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in the same way that I think the "people shouldn't cheat on coursework with AI because they will be bad at their jobs" argument is invalidated by the "if coursework is possible or necessary to cheat with AI it's not an effective indicator of expertise or teaching methods in the first place" retort, it is also true that "the economy is good actually it doesn't matter that there are more homeless people every year and no one you know can afford to have children or eat at restaurants anymore" argument is nonsense against the assertion that "if your definition of 'the economy' excludes the subjective financial realities of the majority of the country it doesn't actually describe The Economy and you should call what you're talking about something else"
constructing an actually informative model of consumer prices, cost of living, debt and buying power is simultaneously extremely complex in the granular sense (TVs cost less now than in 1990 because TVs are now subsidized by selling consumer data and serving ads, for example) and extremely simple (are you able to pay for a better life now than in 1990). the simple view is something like, are you happier now than you were in 2010. is doing things, in general, easier or harder. can you afford to buy things you need, or are you having to put up with broken things instead of fixing or replacing them. the average guy on the street has his own personal understanding of line go up or down, which is why vibes based polling should be taken extremely seriously in economics discussions.
economics discussions about "the economy" are currently stuck in the same place 20th medicine got stuck in, describing an objective underlying illness that's disconnected from the subjective experience of the patient, even though the patient themselves will tell you, and it should be obvious btw, that whether they have pain or find things harder to do or will die sooner is actually the only thing that matters.
i am absolutely not interested in hearing arguments about why the economy actually rocks now and Gen Z is rich when we have unambiguous numbers about homelessness increasing sharply every single year. you pay for housing and all the things that you need in order to get and keep housing with your own personal access to resources. access to those resources has decreased for almost everyone. therefore the economy, the shared delusion we all have to participate in to survive and operate in extractive capitalism, is bad. any other definition of "the economy" is irrelevant in the context of discussing the national and international Normal Guy.
i simply don't care about anything else. i don't own property. i don't even own any money, I'm just a hole that money passes through on its way to debt and expenses. 71% of Americans are living this way according to Forbes as of 2024.
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i really shouldn't start shit with someone who's blaming the wrong people, honestly, but i would like to note that i did care about prices and have always cared about prices. it's no more possible for president biden to lower prices than it is for trump or anyone else, because of the way our systems work (ie profits must always rise, which means prices can never come down). and if you think that system's wrong, i agree with you. you think i'm not out there shouting, protesting, trying to make this system better? as if i wasn't protesting in my senate two fucking days ago? you forget that republicans were the people that denied emergency relief in congress to hurricane helene, or whatever other disaster you're referring to that you were personally impacted by. i understand you. i feel for you. i live in a fucking red state, i'm watching my friends all around me terrified, in fear for the future, watching my fucking legal system bow to a fascist oligarchy and pave the way with gold and silver for them. congratulations, you've made vulnerable people just like you just as terrified for their lives. are you proud of yourself? your hatred hasn't made anything better, it just means that the people who've already won, the people that sit with hundreds of billions under their belt while people like you and me starve, while we never get emergency funding and relief, while the applachians are out of power for months after hurricane helene, we've rewarded those people. this is their reward. they get to crush us ALL beneath their boot.
the current system doesn't work. but that doesn't mean we get to burn it all down, and most certainly not at the hand of rich bullies as despicable as trump and elon musk. because all it means is that the rich get richer, and people like us get poorer and poorer, and we lose healthcare and basic human rights and get put in interment camps to die.
i'm not your enemy. i don't want to fight you, not least of which because i fundamentally agree with what you're saying, and i understand the hurt and the loss and the pain you face. i'm from the fucking appalachians, don't speak to me about emergency funding. but you're fighting the wrong people. i am not your enemy. the common american is not your enemy, and none of us deserve to be punished because you thought it was a good idea to target the wrong fucking people for the filthy rich's crimes.
think on that, the next time you cry for the system to burn down. because you're targeting your fellow class with those crimes, not the 1%. they don't give a shit if you burn, and you're well aware of this. trump is a part of the 1%, and so is elon.
this isn't a culture war. this is a class war, and we need to have class solidarity if we're going to hope to do anything for a better future.
I’m not even kidding. I’ve studied democratic trends for over a decade. We are actively witnessing Trump and his cronies do the legwork of setting up a fascist state as we watch. There are tons of Trump supporters in the US government that have been waiting for this. I have colleagues, friends, family members that are federal employees that are telling me about bosses that are happily rolling over and ensuring compliance with the new executive orders even if they’re illegal.
Fascism is real. It is here. We are experiencing it and it is not a smoking gun but a five alarm fucking fire.
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i am so curious what you think about fearne as a character, especially in the full context of this campaign, and how she ranks in terms of contributing good storytelling. she was consistently my least favorite (ie., lovely and entertaining to watch, but not personally interesting or dimensional in a way that made me care, and more often than not, frustratingly avoidant of plot or depth) and i'm wondering how much you'd relate to that. i'm interested in hearing an alternate perspective! this is an invitation for as much of your thoughts as you have them, because i love reading your posts and meta. have a great day <3
Hey anon, thank you!
I find myself in an awkward place here because I do like Fearne for a couple reasons, and I think a major one is because I think Ashley is one of the only people at the table who actually explored, in-character, that Fearne was an indecisive person who was terrified of making the wrong choices (notably during both the aftermath of the first Otohan fight, and during the whole course of Shardgate). Like, Fearne's disconnect at times from the world, and moments of self-centeredness, and indecision all felt very true to Ashley's original concept both in EXU Prime and the general concept of fey morality. I also think that in a campaign with a number of fraught familial relationships that were underserved, Fearne's was, while still not given the time I wish it had been, one of the strongest. Fearne deciding, after meeting her missing parents, that she wasn't sure if she liked them felt very earned and true, and it felt like she put in the work when she later spoke to them during the party's time resting in the Feywild.
I also give Fearne something of a pass because I think she was put in perhaps the least enviable spot of all this campaign, and that's saying something. While I think pretty much every character would have been much, much better had we focused more on their backstory and exploring and resolving that, Ashley's intended darker fairytale concept was just...abandoned. Like we got Ligament Manor and Morri, and they were great! But there was no plot for her in the feywild other than "your parents are caught up in this moon thing, and your birth father is also caught up in this moon thing". The first part came up very early and got quickly overshadowed by the rest of the whole Bassuras pile-up, and the second part came out right before the Ruidus scouting mission and was perhaps one of the worst victims of the late campaign breakneck pacing. Honestly, a lot of the feywild stuff felt oddly insubstantial - we know that breaking the fey key apparently did something, and that breaking up the meeting in Pravenier prevented Fey allies from attacking Vox Machina at the key in the end (though it's hard to say exactly what that would have entailed), but like...was the Seelie Court working in opposition? Were there any extraplanar allies in the Accord? Was the Feywild at risk here, as Ollie believed it to be? Because it never entered into Bells Hells' considerations! All the Feywild plot threads just went nowhere. Even their greatest fey ally, Ira, was far more motivated by his own dislike of Ludinus than any loyalty to Fearne; the party didn't really need to cultivate him as an ally, he just showed up.
And then, of course, there's the fact that Fearne was a Ruidusborn, but she wasn't THE Ruidusborn, she wasn't exaltant, that was Imogen - and the cool thing she did get, the spark of Rau'shan, was a great moment but was, like Ashton's titan abilities, mechanical and some cool scenes only but not relevant to Predathos in a meaningful way any more so than like, Chetney's ability to turn into a wolf was. I don't even think Ashley was being particularly indecisive, or rather, the Zathuda and Yu "should we kill them or no" scenes were excruciating in the lack of decision, but I feel that the problem was she was given absolutely nothing to fucking work with and that's not her fault. I think it's a testament to Ashley's ability as an actor that I do feel she had depth and even a little character development because she was essentially pushed into a thankless second fiddle role. When I think of the people who actually made an effort to do small solo scenes or seek other people out, Fearne praying to the Wildmother or Raven Queen and pickpocketing scenes stand out as bright spots.
So I think it's valid to be frustrated or not vibe, but I think it's entirely a DM-ing problem. This campaign was really not made to accommodate Fearne's concept.
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Modern! Peaky blinders with a reader who really likes stuffed animals like they make them bring them to Build-A-Bear to get new ones. like how would they act if the reader wants to make them put a voice recording in the bear that says I love you in their voice. ☺️
Obsessed with this cause it's adorable!!!!! It has been yearsssss since I was in build a bear ngl so I don't know how accurate this will be!
Tommy
🌿 Thinks you're very sweet and that the fact you're still in touch with your inner child is a good thing. He's very precious about the idea of you keeping your softness and so he is more than happy to let you run riot in build a bear or any other toy store...
🌿 When you say you want to make him a build a bear he humours you with a small smile, pretending not to know what you mean. "I don't need a teddy bear angel, whenever I want a hug I find you..." Which of course makes you giggle as you protest. "No I mean I want to make you as a bear..."
🌿 Tommy's not sure how he feels about that, he's not sure the aesthetics of love, peace and hugs that they have at build a bear are really going to be able to capture him however... You're looking up at him with your big, undeniable eyes and he's not one for saying "No" to his girl over trivial things like this....
🌿 And anyway it's worth saying yes and letting you give it your best shot just for the way you squeal and throw your arms around him, jumping up so that he has to catch you whilst you thank him over and over covering his face in kisses as you promise him his bear is going to be the best you've ever made....
🌿 "Well I don't doubt that for a second love, it seems you're the expert..." He's teasing you on purpose because he loves to see you frown, the cute way your brows crease as you try to work out whether he's being rude to you or not. You all hands on hips like "I am, actually."
🌿 Tommy's a little concerned about being seen in Build a Bear, mostly because it's the kind of cheap shot some daily mail pap will take and plaster all over their website beneath unfortunate headlines about him having gone soft or getting "stuffed." It's not going to get to him on a personal level but it could be bad for business if his rivals see it.
🌿 So he takes you out of town for it, drives you to some nowhere seaside town which has one on the high street, where no one will recognise him and you'll be able to do your bear building in peace. He's really banking on British high street shopping having died out completely and luckily for him the shop is empty but for you and him... Sure he could probably have taken you to a bigger store in London after hours, let you have free reign over the shop, but this is nicer... It feels normal and Tommy revels in any opportunity he gets to feel "normal" with you.
🌿 He's thinks it's all a little bit intense, he doesn't really go for "forced happiness" himself, but Tommy is very much driven by the want to keep you happy and so he takes a breath and holds his tongue as you step inside the store together and you squeeze his hand excitedly.
🌿 You take foreverrrrr to pick out what kind of bear you're going to have, holding different skins up next to Tommy who just has to stand there and take it whilst you compare which one you think is most "him" and then when you finally do choose you gasp and say "wait no, I want you to be surprised, you can't see!"
🌿 Which is inconvenient because it means he'll have to either follow you round blindfolded or miss the rest of your bear building... In the end you send him off to choose clothes for Tommy bear... "Tommy bear?" He raised his brow at you with a smirk but when you double down he just chuckles and says "fine, as you wish love..."
🌿 So he has to wander the clothes section peering quizzically at the little outfits and well as he suspected, none of the clothes on offer really scream "feared and revered organised crime leader..." So instead he has to lean into his creative side, tries to imagine who he would be if he wasn't a violent, murderous criminal. He pictures himself sitting on the back of a vardo, stopped by a babbling brook, peace and quiet, far away from any city...
🌿 When he hears your gleeful, sweet call from across the store asking him to come back he sighs, braces himself for whatever crazy little whim has taken you now...
🌿 "Close your eyes," you instruct him when he gets closer, he was making a song and dance of not looking at your bear anyway but you want to be absolutely certain he isn't peaking. "Need you to do something for me Tommy, pretty please with cherries on top..." He knows from the sweetness of your tone you're about to ask him something he's going to want to refuse... And he knows from the sweet way you've kissed him on the cheek and said it again "really pretty please..." That there's no way he's going to be able to say no. Because you sound so happy, the hint of a giggle in your mischievous voice and there's no way Tommy would ever dream of cutting your fun short...
🌿 So when you ask him to record himself saying "I love you y/n" he just chuckles, if anything he's relieved you're not asking something more difficult for him to give you. Making a little voice recording is easy... "That all eh sweetheart? Had me worried for a second... Thought you were gonna ask me to buy you the whole store..."
🌿 He's also morbidly aware that the bear will probably outlive him... So why shouldn't you have a little voice recording just in case something ever happens...
🌿 So with one hand over his eyes he makes the voice recording, completely serious as he says the words, "I love you y/n" completely unaware of the fact that you're filming him on your phone camera as you do. Now you know you'll get into trouble for that but you also can't resist. You never thought you'd get Tommy through the door let alone this...
🌿 You're ever so sweet to him when he's done, giving him the tightest hug, leaving him with a kiss before you inform him that he's going to have to leave again now or he'll ruin the surprise. So he sighs and teases you for being so bossy, tells you to mind your manners and gives you a little pat on the cheek before he turns away and tries to find something to occupy himself with.
🌿 he sets himself down on a child-size stool and rests with his chin in his hands, gazing up at the stuffing machine. He lets out a sigh and smirks at what a strange scene it must look like for an outsider looking in. A man wanted in some places for murder, perched on a primary coloured stool, gazing up at a cartoonish machine designed for filling teddy bears.
🌿 Honestly though he's weirdly mesmerised by the fluff machine, he could stare at it going round and round all day long... In fact that's where you find him when your bear is all boxed up and waiting to be paid for. Tommy just gazing at the fluff being spun slowly round and round, his wide eyes almost holding a childish kind of innocence.
🌿 You refuse to let him see Tommy bear until you both get home, delighting in coming up with all sort of stupid excuses why you can't just show him the bear... "He's shy Tommy... You're putting too much pressure on him, he's got big shoes to fill you know, it ain't easy being the bear representative for Thomas Shelby..."
🌿 And then when you finally do show him the bear you've built for him he's a little bewildered...
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🌿 "Y/n love, why am I am otter..." "I don't know... Vibes, it was a vibes based decision and I decided you give me ottery vibes, or the otter was giving me you vibes... I don't know, isn't he cute though, personally I love him!"
🌿 And he supposes that actually your choice was really rather fitting since after all he'd been sitting in that shop imagining himself by a river in the middle of the woods, enjoying the peace and tranquility of nature... So perhaps an otter really did match his vibe. "Aye love, he's great, I think I quite like him myself... You're a very clever girl."
🌿 You have many many cuddly toys but Tommy has one rule, you're only allowed one of them in the bed. It's a fair enough rule really because if you kept all of them in your bed there'd be no room for you and Tommy... But it does leave you with the really rather tricky decision of whether or not you want to evict your current favourite cuddly toy from the bed in order for Tommy Bear to move in...
🌿 Tommy doesn't find out about that little video you took of him in the shop for awhile, only a little later when he catches you watching it by yourself. He hears you giggling and comes to see whats so funny, when he sees himself on your screen he inwardly cringes though he can't help but chuckle at your mischief. "Tut tut y/n, that wasn't very good of you was it?" He asks and though you can tell you're in trouble you can't keep your smirk off your lips, bursting into a premature giggling before you go to make a run for it...
🌿 Tommy isn't the sort to let you pretend you're faster or stronger than him so he's going to have you trapped in his arms in an instant, only agreeing to release you if you swear on Tommy Bears life that you'll never show anyone that video.
🌿 "But it's so cute!" You try to argue. "And so is Tommy Bear y/n you wouldn't want him to lose an ear now would you?"
Alfie
🐻 "don't see why you want to build the bear yourself ziskiet, there's plenty good bears already been built what about them eh?"
🐻 You're not sure Alfie really understands the concept of Build a Bear... Alfie's pretty honest about his confusion too.
🐻 "Now let me get this straight my little ziskeit... You go into this shop yeah? And you pick the teddy bear you wanna build, and then you stuff it yourself, and you put it's little sound effects in there yourself, and then you dress it yourself?" "You give them a heart too don't forget, that's important..." "A heart? Oh yeah I suppose that is pretty important ain't it ziskeit..." "And then when you're done you give it a name and you get a little birth certificate and..."
🐻 "And then you pay them? For the privelige of having done all the work yourself? That right yeah?" You huffing and sighing and glowering up at him because the glint of amusement in his eyes has just let you know that he's been deliberately "not getting it" on purpose just to tease you.
🐻 "Pleaseeeeeeeee" you say as sweetly as you can, blinking up at him with your most adorable doe eyes. Now of course Alfie was never going to say no to his little ziskeit... He just wanted to hear you beg like that, because he finds it absolutely adorable when you beg him for anything. But this... Begging him to take you teddy bear shopping, well it's just about the cutest thing you've ever done... So of course he says yes.
🐻 He cups your cheek in the palm of his hand and strokes his thumb over your skin, still teasing when he coos at you softly before telling you that you can have anything you want, even a trip to this so called bear building factory.
🐻 "Ziskeit I'm a very wealthy old man yeah, and it was actually my intention yeah that you, my dear, would never have to work a day in your life..."
🐻 Now Alfie is a theatrical, dramatic kind of man, and he has absolutely no qualms about shutting the store down so that you can have free reign over the place. He'll take you to the biggest one in London so that you'll have lots of choices and can truly make the most of your trip.
🐻 He hires the place out for the whole evening and tells you you can spend as much money as you want. If his girls dream in life really is to go to work for one evening in a bear factory, or whatever this place is, then he's going to make sure she gets to do it right...
🐻 He wasn't expecting you to want him by your side every step of the way though... When you get there you actually get a bit overwhelmed at the fact that you've got the whole store to yourself and you can choose whatever you want. All the staff are there purely to serve you and its actually a little bit intimidating... So you snatch Alfie's hand in yours, "you have to help me!"
🐻 He doesn't chastise you for being demanding however because he can tell you've suddenly gotten a bit shy, so instead he chuckles, kisses your head and plays along, "of course ziskeit, there's a lot of big decisions to make, can't expect you to make them all by yourself..."
🐻 But he wants you to choose your bear, since you were so excited to come in the first place, so he refuses to make any decisions for you... Just keeps you tucked under his arm and meanders through all your options with you until your shyness starts to fade.
🐻 "So you like the bunnies and you also like this little fella? What is he anyway, some kinda cat?" "That's a lamb Alfie..." "A lamb, well, yeah I reckon you could make quite a cute little lamb... Then again I reckon you could make a cute little bunny too... You know precious I did say didn't I, that you could spend as much money as you liked... Technically yeah, you don't actually have to choose between the two..."
🐻 But you do have to choose because you want to make one perfect teddy bear, one that will be extra extra special and remind you of this very lovely evening forever... And when you tell Alfie that his heart swells as he is reminded once again what an absolute angel he has found in you.
🐻 Eventually you settle on the bunny and you take it to the stuffing machine which Alfie is really fascinated by, "oh well now this is impressive ain't it Ziskeit, what do they call this then eh?" You delight in telling him all about it, losing your shyness and coming out of your shell completely as you try to show him what to do and get him to help you.
🐻 Alfie definitely puts on a show of being confused and clumsy so that you'll have to keep putting your hands on his hands to help him. "Yeah that's better you help me out darlin, you've got delicate fingers yeah, you're much better at this than me..."
🐻 When you go to pick the heart out to put it inside you pause and bite your lip, really carefully considering which one to pick even though they're all the same, so Alfie gets you to close your eyes and guides your hand to delve in nice and deep, "kismet y'see little one, fate..."
🐻 Then you make him give the heart a little kiss before you tuck it inside your bear. Now he knows he looks daft as anything and soft as hell doing that for you, but you held it up to his lips so sweetly, and it gave him the chance to kiss your fingertips too... So he plays along, if not just to see you blush when he lets his kiss linger on your finger tips and scatters them across the back of your hand too.
🐻 When you tell him what you want the voice recording to be he's stunned, coughs to hide his surprise and then shakes his head. He'll do it... Because he wouldn't dare break your heart with a no, not when you've finally started really enjoying yourself without being nervous at all... But first he clears the store. Sends the staff away because he wants to have a "private moment with my girl if you don't mind yeah... An anyone I catch eavesdropping yeah..." He doesn't really need to make a threat, they all know who he is, they wouldn't dream of disobeying him.
🐻 So when everyone else has gone, he pulls you in very close to him, his hand resting on your lower back, and then he asks you again what it is you'd like him to say... "I love you!" You grin up at him and he can't resist the opportunity to make the obvious joke, "I love you too my dear but what exactly is it you'd like me to put in this message specifically?"
🐻 By the time he actually makes the recording you're blushing furiously from all his terrible teasing and your pink cheeks look utterly adorable. And of course Alfie being Alfie he can't stick to such a simple script, he has to add some embellishments here and there. "I love you little ziskeit, all the way to the moon and sun and stars..."
🐻 If there's a time out on that recording it's probably going to cut him off mid sentence.
🐻 When it's time to stitch your bear up he stands over you at the table admiring the nimble way you move your delicate fingers. It reminds him of all the times you've wound up stitching him up after a meeting with a rival gang has turned sour. Softens him up a bit and makes him feel very grateful to have you for his own.
🐻 You spend a really really really long time looking at all the cute little outfits you could buy for your bunny, you keep hovering in front of fairy dresses and cute little t-shirts, your wide eyes blinking up at the different options, totally overwhelmed and spoilt for choice... And Alfie's there reminding you once again that you don't have to choose just one thing, you can buy as much as you like...
🐻 But in the end the only thing you choose is two pink ribbons for her little ears. Alfie is a bit puzzled by her apparent lack of clothing but you absolutely insist that she's perfect just the way she is and he knows better than to argue with you once you get the stubborn voice out.
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Arthur
🍂 No one has ever looked more unnatural in a Build A Bear Workshop than Arthur Shelby... he looks totally out of place. With his frown etched deeply into his face and his low grumbling gruff old voice. The way he stands there looking at the place with this creeped out kind of uncertainty in his expression... he knows he shouldn't be there and he knows everyone else knows he shouldn't be there....
🍂 But then he looks at you and he sees just how happy to be there you are, and he knows he's going to have to go through with this... Because apart from anything else you look like exactly the sort of person who should be in this shop, in fact you look like build a bear was designed specifically for you.
🍂 Makes you laugh when you ask him what's wrong and he tries to pretend that everything's fine, "Arthur you look like you've stepped into a horror movie" you tease him but his answer just makes you laugh, how he blushes when he says it, "Well it's just... Everyone seems so happy and uh... Nah it's just that actually... Just feels weird..." He admits realising how daft he sounds as he says it, making you laugh more when he trails off and gives in.
🍂 You're determined that he's going to get involved and help you make your bear because you know that secretly he's going to end up enjoying it, you just need to prove that to him before he'll admit it.
🍂 And he does enjoy it... After he's moved past how unnerving he finds the boxes full of empty bear skins. You think it's funny how he doesn't really want to even go up to them to have a look, how he's trying to hide that he obviously finds them a bit creepy, because he doesn't want to reveal himself as being scared of a toy shop...
🍂 So you end up picking out which kind of bear he's going to make with you. He swears too much for a build a bear work shop and you have to keep reminding him to mind his language because although you've picked a relatively quiet time to come to the store there's still some little kids about.
🍂 Still, when he sees the fluffer machine he stops dead in his tracks and breaths out the phrase "what the fuck is that..."
🍂 I think you'd spend most of this trip with Arthur giggling at him and his dramatic reactions to everything. The way he genuinely seems disbelieving when you tell him it's a machine for helping you fill the bears. You can tell he's kind of intrigued and on the verge of begging you for a turn, the way he watches you filling your bear up slowly... He's watching you and the machine so carefully his eyes full of fascination but when you turn and offer him a go he's hesitant.
🍂 "I don't know love I wouldn't wanna ruin your bear like..." "Don't be silly Arthur, if you help me it'll be ten times better..." Now he has to try and hide the fact that he's gotten strangely emotional about you wanting him to make your bear with you... He covers it up by teasing you and grumbling about "well alright love anything for you eh... Don't say I didn't warn you though lass..."
🍂 But obviously Arthur does a wonderful job because the whole process is designed do that basically anyone can do it, "see easier than it looks isn't it..." You tease him. But he's too focused on what he's doing to be bothered by your teasing.
🍂 He actually finds the stuffing part pretty therapeutic. You can see him get quite absorbed in the process, trying his best to get it just right. He's really concentrating.
🍂 I think he'd be quietly quite into giving the little bear a heart, I'm thinking like Tin Man complex here.
🍂 When it comes to doing the stitches he gets a bit frustrated because it's more fiddly and he's not exactly the most nimble man...
🍂 Now, he definitely blushes when you ask him to do the voice recording... He sort of gets a stutter on him like he wasn't expecting you to ask him that, and also isn't sure why you want his gruff grumpy voice to come out of such a cute bear... Definitely says something along those lines to you...
🍂 "What do you want me to do that for love?" "Well I'm not gonna ask the bloody shop assistant to do it for me am i..."
🍂 He will do it, but he is going to be a little bit embarrassed about it. Not just because he's supposed to be a tough and scary gangster with a tough and scary reputation to uphold but also because it seems like a very soft and very gooey romantic thing to do and not only does he not view himself as someone capable of being soft and romantic (even though he wishes he could be that way) (and even though you do see the ways in which he can be that way sometimes) but he also knows for a fact that other people don't see him as being capable of those things...
🍂 So he feels ridiculous, like everyone's secretly thinking "what the fucks he doing making a fool of himself, who's he trying to kid we all know he's a monster..."
🍂 That's the real reason he double checks to make sure no one is around that might be listening in, he's so paranoid that other people in the shop are going to laugh at him for even trying to be soft and romantic with you.
🍂 Anyway he does it and he goes bright red like a tomato and you think he looks so so so adorable, and when you say this to him he goes even more red and you can't help but kiss him on the cheek and thank him a million times.
🍂 You want to call the bear Arthur and he's like "but that's my name" and your only argument is "well surely you don't want another man to be telling me he loves me..." Which he can't argue with, even though he knows it's a ridiculous argument that doesn't make any sense.
🍂 Will tell you he's never setting foot in that shop ever again... Will obviously immediately capitulate the next time you ask.
John
🌼 Laughs when you ask him to come with you... He thinks you're joking at first and then when he realises you're being serious he chuckles almost nervously and asks "What really? What do you want me to come with you for, you know you can just take my credit card whenever you want flower..."
🌼 "Well yeah, and I would but... I have an important job for you..." "Oh aye?" He grins. He agrees to come, he loves spending time with you and getting to spoil you, and honestly he thinks this will be a right laugh.
🌼 He will not take it seriously at all, even when you tell him how very serious it is... In fact the more stroppy you get with him about how serious it is, the more funny he's finding it... he does want you to have a good time though so he's not too much of a windup merchant with you.
🌼 It's just that he can't help but giggle when you step inside the shop and it's full of kids and you're there taking it more seriously than the 7 year old whose been dreaming of a build a bear for years.
🌼 When you're struggling to choose which bear you want he keeps reminding you that it's going on his credit card anyway and you don't even have to choose, you can have the whole store if you want... "John!” you whining to him, "be serious!" "Flower I don't joke about Build a Bear, this stuff is serious..." "John! Stop taking the piss out of me..." "Eh don't swear flower, there's kids around!" He really loves hearing you whine his name so this could repeat and repeat for hours...
🌼 Every time you do come close to making a choice he spots a different type of bear that you haven't noticed yet and his "what about this one flower?" Makes you have to start reconsidering your choice all over again.
🌼 He doesn't have the cocentration/patience to do any of the little bear building steps, he's too easily distracted pointing out different things, asking what "this thing" does and pointing at some random part of the shop. "What's that for? Eh give us a go..."
🌼 You have to put the heart in and he's giggling about it and you're like "John come on..." Whining at him to be real for a second, which he thinks is extremely cute but that makes him chuckle more. You kiss the heart before putting it in which he thinks is insane but also extremely cute and of course he teases you for it. "Aw flower ain't you a little sweetheart..." Pinching your cheek and fluffing your hair...
🌼 Definitely not afraid to do the voice recording, isn't sure why you want him to do it but will do it simply because you've asked him to.
🌼"So this is the important job is it flower?" He chuckles when you tell him what you need him to do. "Whats the matter girl I not tell you enough? Feeling neglected or somet? You gonna use him to make me jealous?" He is only teasing of course, just trying to make you blush in the middle of the shop to distract from the fact that he's about to make a voice recording of himself being a soppy git.
🌼 But you said it was an important job so he puts his whole chest into his performance. Makes a show of preparing himself for the moment, really playing up his deep breath, closing his eyes and theatrically crossing his hand slowly down his face to prepare for his line... anything to make you giggle.
🌼 Then he holds eye contact the whole time he's doing the voice recording, deadly serious, actually gives you butterflies for a second there... but the second the recording is off he cracks a laugh and starts pissing himself, making you giggle too because his laughter is very contagious and you do also feel a little silly after watching his oscar winning performance.
🌼 Is absolutely going to be a nightmare when it comes to dressing your bear... Will be making the most ridiculous suggestions, just picking up the funniest items he can find or suggesting the wildest fashion moments for your bear... "What about this, for if he ever fancies attending the met gala... Or this for when he's feelin like Sid vicious... Or what about this for when he's uh... Feeling like a princess?"
🌼 Your head will be spinning with all the suggestions he's making and actually you won't be able to pick just one set of clothes, your bear is going to be coming home with a whole wardrobe.
🌼 He's definitely picking the bear up and like holding it up to his face, putting on a squeaky voice and shaking the bear to make him talk to you... "please y/n I've always wanted to be a pro footballer... And a fire fighter... And a sugar plum fairy and a..."
🌼 You will probably need to lie down in a dark room with some peace and quiet after this experience, you'll definitely question whether you ask him to come too next time... He actually brings up next time, "next time you should go in blindfolded and let me make all the choices... It'll all be a surprise..."
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🌼 This is the bear I think you'd end up picking with John, cute and eclectic, she ain't no average bear she's literally an elephant... You let him pick the shoes.
Bonnie
🍀Will have a moment where he questions whether its really a good idea for him to risk being photographed in build a bear workshop... he's a semi famous boxer with a cute little face so the paps do try to follow him sometimes, especially when he's out with you because then there's the added gossip of him having a girlfriend... still, he figures that as long as he stays by your side the whole time so that they can't possibly get a shot of him where it looks like he's there alone... then it will surely be fine.
🍀He definitely feels a little silly but goes along with it to make you happy because you're his girl and he's smitten with you... It's not like the bears for him... Then again I do feel like out of all the guys bonnie is the most likely to engage with his softer side, or his inner child... He's not going to feel imasculated by a teddy bear.
🍀 Especially not when the bear in question is a frog!! He definitely sees the frog in the window and gets genuinely boyishly excited. "You didn't tell me there were frogs y/n! Oh my god look at him! He's class, that's class!"
🍀 He doesn't tell you you have to get the frog, but he also won't stop gazing at it lovingly and so you know you have got to get the frog... And he'll be so happy that you're getting the frog.
🍀 Will make little jokes about his bosses to you, pointing at one bear and saying "here, this one looks like Tommy..." Both of you laughing quietly with eachother, coming up with stupid scenarios about which bear Tommy or Arthur would pick and how they'd dress it.
🍀Definitely secretly a bit of a nerd and kind of loves the fact they do Pokémon build a bear... "Y/N can we get this?" He asks stood next to a giant charizard...
🍀When you ask him to help you he doesn't complain, he rolls his eyes at you and tells you you don't really need his help, but he kisses your cheek and helps you anyway. He's pretty good at the stuffing and stitching but he pretends its much harder than it looks and jokes that you're making him do unpaid labour.
🍀 Definitely blushes a bit when you tell him what you want the voice recording to be. Tries to tease you to play down the fact that it's made him self conscious, "I don't know little dove, I don't speak frog y'see so it won't be Attenborough Documentary standard..."
🍀Is too awkward to ask the shop assistant to leave you be for a bit so he ends up having to do the recording in front of them!! Which he is shy about because what do you mean this random stranger is watching him do this...
🍀 A bit like John when it comes to picking the clothes out, very kid in a candy store just flitting from thought to thought at a million miles an hour, a bit over stimulated... Thinks the shoes are class but also... "He's a frog what does he need shoes for, won't that hinder the jumping?" "To protect his feet from all the shit you leave lying around Bon..."
🍀He also picks the frog up and makes him speak, makes him say really stupid stuff to you about how he's a free frog and he doesn't want to be confined by human standards of decency, "Let me be a frog y/n, let me be free" but in the end you settle on a cute little tshirt.
🍀When you get the frog home Bonnie has more fun with him than you do... He'll leave these frogs around the house set up in different poses doing different activities for you to find each day. Sometimes mirroring whatever he knows you've got to do that day. If you've got a long day of studying or working on your laptop you find your frog sitting using the laptop... usually watching David Attenborough documentaries or weird videos about frogs. You inadvertently learn so much about frogs...
🍀 if Bonnie ever gets you a gift he usually sets it up so it looks like the frog is giving you the gifts... Sometimes this is very cute and sometimes it looks incredibly funny... Like sometimes Frog is sitting on the table with a little box from your local bakery, and then sometimes Frog looks like he's about to down a bottle of red wine indie sleaze style... Depends what kind of week you're having.
🍀You start doing this too, leaving little gifts for bonnie with Frog, sometimes you leave eachother little messages and Frog becomes like this daft little way for you to communicate.
🍀Then one day you find Frog waiting for you with a little jewellery box and a note attached that just reads, "will you marry me?"
🍀Now obviously your heart soars and you can't stop smiling, but you can't put bonnie out of his misery straight away...
🍀"So am I marrying you or the frog?"
Isaiah
🐁If he didn't already know you better he'd be surprised at you asking him this... you don't come across as the kind of girl who should want to go on a Build a Bear date... but he does know you so really hes been bracing himself for the day you ask him this...
🐁 He isn't going to go quietly and he's definitely going to grumble about it a bit. "You do know who you're man is don't you love?" He's going to roll his eyes and be so sulky... "What're you willing to do to make it up to me?" But he's only really teasing, putting on a show of being extra grumpy to preserve his "dangerous gangster" persona.
🐁He knew before you asked him that he'd go to the "hellhole" with you one day.
🐁"Didn't realise you were such a softy babe..." And it's a fair point he's making because you do not give off the vibe that you'd be crazy for cuddly toys... You're a woman who matches Isaiah's sulky and arrogant nature, you give major Scorpio/Capricorn vibes, dark makeup, sharp eyeliner, always dressed to seduce and kill... He thinks that as a couple you're going to look very out of place...
🐁But then he's surprised because you really don't look out of place... You light up the second you're in there, sure you seem to have that effortlessly cool poker face on you as you peruse the rails of bear skins, and you definitely don't meet the high as a kite happy the shop assistants bring to the room... but you do soften up in there, especially once you've chosen your bear...
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🐁You look so quietly pleased with yourself when you hold it up to show him which one you're getting and he grins... He's surprised actually, he thought you might go for the little mouse... Afterall, you're still his Little Mouse even if you are a femme fatal...
🐁But he loves this choice too, it's very you... "You are fuckin trouble to be fair love..."
🐁He humours you when you ask if he wants a go, it's not that you need his help you just don't want him to be bored and he's looking around that store with a look of bewilderment on his face so you think perhaps he needs some guidance...
🐁So he has a go on the stuffing machine but only for a moment, "Don't wanna ruin your fun mousy, this is your day like..." You know he just doesn't want to run the risk of looking like he's actually into it and enjoying himself.
🐁"You have to give it a heart?" Him raising his eyebrow when you ask if it should be red or pink, "Do they have any black ones?" "Saiah! What are you trying to say about me?" "Oh don't act innocent mousy you're the coldest woman I know!" He's joking with you, he has this running joke that the first time he offered to buy you a drink you said no... That you're really hard to impress and that you did not make it easy for him to get you... But he loves all that about you... He secretly loves how hard you made him work...
🐁Anyway this triggers you having to explain this whole story to the shop assistant who is honestly just baffled to have a peaky blinder in the shop let alone to be hearing about their love life...
🐁 Definitely protests when you tell him about the voice recording... You spring it on him in the shop so that he doesn't have time to think of a good reason to back out. You've been a little calculated and you can see that he is livid you've managed to trick him again!! You always manage to trick him!
🐁But all it takes from you is one little pout and an "I'll make it worth your while" before he is stepping up to the recorder ready to give the performance of a life time.
🐁Teases you and stalls the recording making out like he's about to and then recording some stupid message instead that has to be erased. Messages like "I do not contain contraband goods" "I have the right to remain silent..." "Y/N made me do it..."
🐁But eventually he records the real message and it's lovely, personalised too because he says "I love you little mouse"
🐁 "Don't be too good with them stitches love, never know when we'll have to undo em..." He whispers to you and you bloody well hope he is joking. "Isaiah!" You hiss back, "my teddy bear is NOT going to be involved in any criminal activity..."
🐁Isaiah is the one who picks out the Too Hot To Handle t-shirt. At first he makes out like he's joking but when you hmm and say "Yes, I see the vision, I love it..." He tries to pretend he was being serious all along.
🐁Obviously makes some sly little comment about you being too hot to handle...
🐁 One day you go to give your bear a little cwtch and you think he feels kind of lumpy and kind of sharp in places... So you investigate the stitches on the back and oh my god you're going to KILL Isaiah.
🐁 You open the bear up to find diamonds though so maybe this is a secret you can keep... For now.
Michael
☘️ "you're fuckin kidding me..."
☘️ Out of all the blinders Michael has the biggest chip on his shoulder when it comes to masculinity... He really frets and worries about his image as a violent, dark and mean criminal. He likes to come off as slick and professional, an elite... But also as cold and dangerous, not to be messed with. Wants to command everyone's respect at all times...
☘️ "How the fuck am I meant to come across as respectable buying teddy bears y/n"
☘️ You just pout back at him all, "I don't know, hire the place out, show everyone how minted you are..." You shrug your shoulders and then refuse to look at him or speak to him until he caves... And if there's another thing that bothers him deeply it's the thought of not being man enough for his girl... So he has to cave... He can't have toxic masculinity literally be the thing making him seem like "less of a man"
☘️ You weren't actually expecting him to hire the store but he does, he shuts the whole place down for one night, makes them open for you when the rest of the mall is closed for the evening so that it's just the two of you in the whole building... That makes you feel extra special and also guarantees that he's safe from the eyes of anyone who might use this to ridicule him.
☘️ And because the place is shut down and because he's given very clear instructions that the staff are to leave you alone until you're ready to leave he is safe in the knowledge that if he wants to be soft and cute to you he can be... So he is... Of course he's still Michael, he's still a little brooding and serious... Still wants to have authority and control... But he shows that authority by being extra generous and spoiling you rotten in there...
☘️ You get to make multiple bears for sure, every time you say you can't choose you just have to turn and pout at him and be a little bit cutesy and he caves and gives you exactly what you want, and it comes with little kisses on the forehead or cheek. Holding your hand or walking round the store with his arms around you.
☘️He helps you with the stuffing but mostly because if he doesn't you'll be there all bloody night, you've got way too many bears to make all by yourself. So you put him on stuffing duty and you get to work putting their little hearts in and stitching them up.
☘️"Wouldn't have brought you here if I'd known how much work we'd have to do love, y'know I was hoping to be in bed before 5am..." He's only teasing you and really deep down he does love to see you so happy. And you are so happy, you're so sweet and content stitching up your little bears...
☘️ Which is funny because you're usually quite a feisty, hard to please woman, you come off as so chic and badass, he definitely isn't used to seeing you so calm and soft... But he likes this look on you and definitely decides he wants to try and bring it out of you more often...
☘️ Now, whilst Michael was busy concentrating on his task, you made sure to hide your favourite bear, which has gone unstitched because you have big plans for it... And big plans for Michael too.
☘️ Which of course absolutely floor him when you reveal them to him. "You want me to what..." He looks at you so deadpan you almost question whether he's going to give you what you want.
☘️ And he definitely puts up the biggest fight... "Fuckin no y/n... I'm not doing that... Imagine if that gets into the hands of my fuckin cousin eh... Family meetings will be unbearable!" He doesn't hear the pun until you start to giggle and he is so unamused by your laughing at him. But you can't help it.
☘️ "come on Michael please" you pout at him, giving him your best puppy eyes... He isn't budging though and you know you may have to go to an extreme... You drop to your knees, wrapping your arms around his legs, nuzzling into his trousers, then you look up at him again and it your darkest, sweetest voice you ask him again, "pretty please Michael..."
☘️ Makes you stay down there begging a little while because he enjoys hearing your voice when you get a little whiny, and he enjoys looking down on you from that angle...
☘️ but he does cave and he does do the recording, "I love you y/n..." He sounds a little grumpy but he does do it and you are happy. You reward him with a big kiss and promises to thank him properly later.
☘️ Michael literally locks this bear in a safe inside a cupboard whenever family visit, there is no way he's ever having one of his cousins find that by accident. "You're so dramatic Michael it's just a teddy bear..." "Y/N I would sooner lock myself in a burning building and slow roast myself than have Tommy find that fuckin bear..."
☘️ And that's good to know because it means you've got an excellent bargaining chip now for future arguments. One little video of that bear and Michael's little message, it would take seconds to post it in the family WhatsApp and he'd just have to deal with the consequences... Now obviously this is not why you made the bear... Definitely not.
Luca
🪽 I shouldn't but I picture modern day Luca as being Sopranos esque... Not like Tony's family but the actual New York mafia and how they're portrayed in the show.
🪽 And whilst I think the peaky blinders would be on like the New Jersey mob tier, Luca is above all that... he has so much power and such a serious reputation that he actually does not need to worry about being seen in a build a bear with his wife...
🪽 No one is going to say anything about him, not without literally losing their balls or something. People are very careful with what they say about Luca Changretta and his wife.
🪽 So when you ask he just smirks affectionaly, beckons you over to him, holds your cheeks in his hands and places a lingering kiss on your lips. "anything for you my little lamb..."
🪽 He has a flare for romance and he's a passionate man so he's going to turn the whole trip into an occasion. He will close the shop down but not so that no one sees him going into build a bear... people are going to know he did it... it's just so you can have free reign and take your time without feeling rushed... he knows if he took you there during opening hours you'd just keep letting little kids skip past you in the line and then you'd be there all day..
🪽 And he wants you to feel like your trip is all about you, no one else... so you get the store to yourself and he reminds you that money is no object... "But space is Piccolina... We don't want to have to build an extension just for your teddy bears..." He's teasing you of course... he probably would do that if he needed to.
🪽 He's very cool about being there, browsing slowly, though he's watching you the whole time rather than paying much attention to the bears, admiring you from every angle as you concentrate on your choices. Every time you turn to ask his advice he simply tells you "Whatever you think is right Angioletto, you know best..."
🪽 And then to your surprise he sends you off on your own for a little while, and whilst you're busy wrapped up in your little tasks, stuffing your bears just right and putting their little hearts in, he's picking a surprise out for you... a teddy you completely missed!
🪽 When he comes to join you at the heart station he's hiding something behind his back... and when he presents it to you you gasp and clap your hands together so touched by it.
🪽 "A little lamb for my little lamb..." he says it very suavely and you can't help but blush and get butterflies. "Now why don't you show me what to do next?" So you tell him about the little hearts and how you have to give the teddy a voice and how you can do the little recordings... you don't outright tell him you want him to record something for you but he knows you well enough to know that you'd just love it if he did...
🪽 So he takes the heart from your hand and holds it to his lips, eyes locked with yours ever the romantic... and then when he does the recording he thinks carefully about what he's going to say...
🪽 "luce dei miei occhi, amore della mia vita, finché morte non ci separi..." (light of my eyes, love of my life, til death do us part)
🪽 And of course he's holding your cheek in his hand as he says it and of course he kisses you passionately the moment he's finished up... and of course he can't keep his hands off you holding you by the waist... almost getting carried away... and youve melted like butter at his beautiful words.
🪽 Honestly for awhile there you probably get a little distracted from the task at hand (shopping for bears) and spend a little too much time being desperately in love with your husband...
🪽 Your little lamb bear does not look like something that should belong to a mob wife... She's so cute, and Luca finds this a little amusing... That his wife, who is always so chic and styles, so...well... Mob wife... Has gone and made herself the most adorable, very pink, little teddy bear...
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🪽 When you get to the checkout you have quite the little hall, the bears you made yourself all in a little basket, and your new favourite little lamb clutched tightly in your arms. You've already decided this little lamb is your most treasured possession...
🪽 At home you hardly let it out of your sight, you're so proud of it, and you can't stop listening to Luca's confession of love, he keeps warning you to be careful not to wear the batteries out but you're too giddy and in love to listen...
🪽 Luca doesn't tend to travel anywhere without you, but on the odd occasion that you have to be parted you like to listen to his little recording before you go to sleep, it makes you feel safe and loved.
Aberama
🦔 I guess there's a bit of an age gap here and Aberama is getting pretty used to hearing you say things he doesn't really understand...
🦔 For example when you ask to go on a trip to build a bear workshop, he really thinks you mean a literal bear building factory... He's a bit confused as to why you'd want to visit a production line... And when he asks and you giggle he quickly realises that this is one of those things he's misunderstood...
🦔 But he's willing to learn he supposes, even if the idea sounds a little mad to him...
🦔 And Aberama is too old to be worried about looking too soft, he doesn't care one bit what anybody else thinks of him, he only cares that his girl is happy and getting all the love and little treats she deserves...
🦔 Will do some research as to which is the best build a bear store in the country and plan it into the route you're travelling... He won't tell you that's what he's doing, so by the time he surprises you with the little day trip you will have forgotten that you'd asked him about it...
🦔 Your reaction when you see where he's taking you is so sweet, how at first he can tell you're a little uncertain, that you have your suspicions but clearly don't want to get your hopes up too much... But then you're sure that he's taking you there because you're standing right outside the shop and he's waiting for the penny to drop and you turn to him with these wide sparkling eyes...
🦔 "This is what you meant isn't it sweetheart?" He asks with a chuckle when you nod your head and squeak with excitement ever so adorably...
🦔 He lets you lead the way because as we've established he's got no idea what goes on here or what the deal is at all... But he thinks it's so sweet how you explain all the steps and give him a little walking step by step tour/tutorial.
🦔 You ask him to help you pick which teddy to get because there are so many you love but you really do only want to get one and besides you both like travelling light... One of Aberama's many nicknames for you is "duckling" and so you end up getting a little duck, which you name "buttercup" another one of his nicknames for you...
🦔 You think she's perfect because she matches your woodsy little aesthetic and also she's just undeniably adorable!!
🦔 You want him to help you with each step so that he can be involved too, "Cause I've done it before but you haven't and I don't want you to miss out!" You insist, and that is partly true... But it is also partly down to the fact that you find it entertaining to watch him struggle to get his head around everything.
🦔 He's pretty good with his hands and very nimble fingered though so he'd be very good at the stuffing and stitching... When you show him the little hearts to put in the bears he can't help but chuckle... He's not exactly cynical in his old age but he definitely thinks that somewhere there's a very rich man because of this "experience" they've managed to sell to people...
🦔 But how can he fault them when you're revelling in that "experience" right before his eyes and you look so so happy...
🦔 He laughs again when you show him the bit where you do a voice recording, "God they've really thought of everything haven't they sweetheart..." He chuckles, you giggling when you scold him for spoiling your fun...
🦔 But of course he does it... I kind of imagine Aberama has quite a way with words, can create quite sentimental homely poetry off the cuff, something very short and sweet... And like honestly my apologies for not including this but my brain is not capable of writing a little poem right now
🦔 Anyway, he reads it beautifully and so calm and slow that you get a little bit worried the recorder is going to time out and he'll have to start again. But luckily the poems very short and sweet.
🦔 Thinks the birth certificate is absolutely insane and does laugh about it, humours you but you do both have a good giggle about it...
🦔 You can't find anything you want to dress your little duck in in the store because you're very fussy about your woodsy little aesthetic and you want her to dress like you dress... And Aberama can see you're a little disappointed you couldn't find anything that felt right so...
🦔 He works away in secret each night after you've gone to sleep to make a tiny replica of a Pinafore you own, one that's the perfect fit for your little duck... Each night he has to wait until you've fallen asleep, sneak out of bed, sneak your cuddly toy away from the bed too, and then work until the early hours in very dim lamplight so as not to wake you...
🦔 There's a couple times where you wake in the middle of the night and he has to be so quick to hide his work and pretend that he was simply getting a drink of water...
🦔 Then one morning you wake up to your little duck sitting by your pillow in this perfect little pinafore... Your heart absolutely bursts and you're genuinely amazed. "Oh my god... Did you do this?" You can't believe how sweet and thoughtful a gesture it is and you're also incredibly impressed by his handy work...
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🦔You show her off to everyone you possibly can which does of course mean that poor Abe does in fact wind up getting the piss ripped out of him by some of his friends... And bonnie, god bonnie won't let him live it down saying things like "here the bairns need new clothes da, what're you doin making clothes for a teddy bear when your own flesh an blood are cuttin about with holes in their jackets..."
🦔 But you're so proud of your little bear and so thrilled that Aberama gave it that sweet little finishing touch, he's not bothered what anyone else has to say...
Finn
🌸 is going to say no... Definitely is bothered about looking soft, definitely will be extremely paranoid about being ripped into by his older brothers and his mates...
🌸 Already knows the things they'll say to him, all the comments about if he needs that for when he has nightmares... All the comments about how whipped he must be if he's building teddy bears with you.
🌸 But he's also definitely young enough that he will just so whatever his girl wants, he's a bit of a pushover and if you tell him you're going and he needs to go with you or he's dumped (not even really a serious threat) he will go...
🌸 But he will be massively awkward about being there, he'll be proper skulky constantly checking his periphery for anyone who might know him... Definitely puts his hood up when you're walking into the store, definitely keeps his hood up the whole time.
🌸 The whole time you're in the store he's got this semi blush on his cheeks, his freckles shaded with a slight pink glow behind them....
🌸 he finds it all a bit uncanny, thinks the bear skins are a bit "fookin weird..." But he goes along with everything because the quicker you get on with it the quicker it's over and the quicker he can get out...
🌸 You spend a lot of this trip laughing at him and taking the piss out of him because he's being a baby... "You're being daft Finn, lighten up babe... You don't gotta be so serious all the time you're Finn Shelby not Tommy..."
🌸 You try to get him to do little bits with you, he just laughs nervously when he's doing the stuffing and then gets awkward about the heart...
🌸 He definitely is a bit mortified when you ask him to do the voice recording... "Seriously babe? Do I have to?" "it's not like I'm askin you to kill someone Finn jesus..." "I'd fuckin rather you did love I'm better at that!"
🌸 he does do the recording in the end but it's quiet and muffled because he mumbles it, he's too worried about other people in the store over hearing him...
🌸 You let him dress it and it winds up looking like this...
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2289eabd6c4862a8f88aa40e52406097/6551f49f1898a742-b0/s540x810/d7601c8e4f1d555b5c28cca53b925be5ab628283.jpg)
AN // happy Valentines day my lovelies, hope this brings you some fuzzy cosy vibes this evening!! This took me like two whole weeks to write :o sorry they don't all come with a bear, there will be more bear analysis soon I think... And sorry some are shorter than others, I really only threw poor Finn in there because the thought of him sulkin in build a bear made me giggle.
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#peaky blinders imagines#bonnie gold x reader#tommy shelby x reader#arthur shelby x reader#john shelby x reader#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders headcanon#alfie solomons x reader#isaiah jesus x reader#finn shelby x reader#luca changretta x reader#aberama gold x reader
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RAVE SWEETHEARTS ━ park jisung
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pairing : jisung x fem!reader. genre : fluff, very cliche, rave au ?? warnings : drinking/getting drunk, awkward ji, two idiots obsessed w eo synopsis : usually you would be aggravated about someone spilling their drink on you but you couldn't possibly be mad at him. wc : 3k a/n : EEEK im acc excited to post this bc this randomly came to me from a rave fitspo tiktok so i hope u guys enjoy ^^ as always likes n reblogs are appreciated :))
jisung was so uncomfortable. he was uncomfortable with his outfit, he was uncomfortable with the large crowd of people, and he was uncomfortable by the loud dj set that was currently playing.
“oh loosen up” chenle glanced his way, rolling his eyes. “dude it’s so hot” jisung complained, the sun shining directly on his shoulders make him even more uneasy. “you’re barely wearing anything, c'mon let’s get some drinks in you and maybe you’ll feel better” chenle grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of the overpriced bar. jisung groaned but reluctantly followed him.
he didn’t even want to be here, but since chenle bought two tickets for him and mark, who just couldn’t go anymore, jisung was the replacement. at first the idea of going to a rave in the height of california heat didn’t seem all that bad until the weekend got closer and he started regretting agreeing to the idea. when chenle showed him the outfit he picked out for him, the feeling of regret started growing.
they reached the bar, jisung stood close to the fan they had set up to cool himself down. “two vodka sprites please” chenle told the bartender, handing his credit card. “you couldn’t just get me water?” jisung side eyed him and chenle only laughed. “a little vodka never hurt anyone” chenle replied back, not realizing how unironically wrong that sounded given the situation. the bartender handed chenle the drinks and he turned to jisung, handing him the drink. jisung gave him a look and chenle held out the drink further towards him.
the two of them began walking back to the crowd, the terrible dj set was now over so it wasn’t as loud or overstimulating. “i promise when you let yourself go it’ll be a lot more fun” and jisung rolled his eyes, “yeah sure” he muttered, following chenle through the crowd. they stood not too far from the stage but not too close either, it was feeling a bit better. “i wouldn’t have invited you if i didn’t know you needed the break, just let go man” chenle said once more, the words finally getting through jisungs big head. “yeah you’re right” jisung said, making chenle smile. “see! i told you” he shouted over the set that just began, making jisung laugh. maybe this weekend will be fun.
jisung clearly spoke too soon because five minutes into the set, someone bumped into chenle which caused him to bump into jisung and resulted in him losing grip of his drink, dropping it all over the stranger that stood beside him. “i am so-“ the words couldn’t leave jisungs mouth when he turned to see you. “i..” he mumbled, watching as you wiped the remnants of the drink off your clothes. your hair fell so nicely on your shoulders, and your outfit complimented your aura so well. to put it simply, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. he was sure of it.
you wiped down the drink from your shirt and looked up at him, smiling softly. “i mean atleast your drink was cold!” you said, your voice was even sweeter than how you looked. he didn’t know what he was more attracted to, you or the way you brushed it off so easily. either way it drew him closer to you. jisung wanted to say something but the words were stuck in his throat, out of fear or maybe anxiety. it didn’t matter because you smiled at him one last time before turning to talk to your friend.
by then, chenle had already turned away from the person who bumped into him and tapped jisungs shoulder, breaking him out of his trance. he turned to look at chenle, ears red and face slightly flushed but the only thing chenle noticed was the empty cup on the ground next to jisungs feet. “oh come on! that drink was like 15 bucks jisung!” chenle groaned, breaking jisung out of his thoughts. “yeah.. sorry”’ he finally said, beating himself up internally because the words wouldn’t come out when he wanted to talk to you.
chenle handed him his drink, “here just finish mine,” jisung took the cup and downed it, either trying to ease his nerves or cool himself off. chenle looked at him and grinned, “finally you’re not uptight anymore” he laughed, making jisung look at him with a small smile “shut up” he muttered, focusing back on the dj set and being hyper aware that you were next to him, dancing with your friend.
he glanced out the corner of his eye to see that you and your friend were in fact gone, probably left some time around while he was talking to chenle. you walked behind ningning, following her through the crowd to a stand to grab some napkins. “ning it’s fine” you groaned, watching her wipe away the remainder of the drink from your skin. “still! it must be uncomfortable i mean that guy wasn’t even paying attention” she replied, wetting the napkin with her water bottle to wipe away any stickiness.
you thought back to his flustered expression and the way his cheeks were flushed. you smiled softly, he was a cutie. you didn’t think you’d bump into a cute guy here but here you were, thinking about a cute guy. if only you knew his name it would make actually talking to him easier. “oh please don’t tell me you’re thinking about him yn” she said, throwing away the napkin and turning back to you. “i mean.. he was easy on the eyes ning,” you said, smiling softly, making ningning laugh aloud.
“what if he’s one of those rave fuck boys then what?” the two of you started walking back towards the crowd, the music starting to get louder as you got closer. “doubt it, he looked so nervous” you smiled, thinking back on his expression. “you’re doing it again!” ningning said, lightly punching your arm, making you laugh. “whatever it's not like i’m gonna magically see him again” you sighed out, joining the crowd once more. “yeah but who knows, maybe he’ll find his way to you without spilling a drink” she smiled, making you smile as well, maybe she was right.
jisung was exhausted, around 3 dj sets had passed and they were currently on the last one for the night. finally, jisung thought. next to him, chenle danced with some girl who kept flirting with him, making jisung laugh to himself. he scanned the crowd, ever since you left out of nowhere he was ashamed to admit it but he tried looking for you for a bit. even if it was taking quick glances he was never successful, that is until now. he saw you not too far ahead of where he and chenle stood so he did the most rational thing, make his way over to you.
after a little bit of shoving and squeezing through sweaty bodies, jisung was a little bit closer to you, approximately one person apart. just before he was going to get closer, someone bumped into you, causing you to tumble back but jisung reached over grabbing your arm. the person between the two of you was now gone so it was only the two of you in this huge crowd. “hi..” jisung said, making you smile. he let go of your arm and stood up straighter, “hi” you said, smiling up at him.
“jisung, i’m sorry about.. you know. spilling my drink on you” he held his hand out for you to shake and you shook it, smiling. “yn, and it’s fine really” you let go of his hand, wiping away your sweaty palm on your shorts. “so do you talk to every girl you spill drinks on?” you looked to him, making his ears turn a shade of pink. “only the pretty ones” he said, now it was your turn to blush.
“i’m pretty?” you teased, still smiling. you were smiling so much that your cheeks started to hurt. “i mean.. yeah. you’re more than just pretty but it’s too embarrassing to say here” he admitted shyly, not being able to hold eye contact with you. you smiled as his eyes looked at the speakers or the dj instead of you. “you’re pretty too” you said, making him giggle and ears turn pink once more.
the two of you stood there, moving along to the music and enjoying each others company. jisung glanced at you a couple times, smiling. you caught him, looking his way and he quickly looked away, in embarrassment or fear. what a cutie. “so do you usually go to raves” you tilted your head, jisung shaking his head in response. “my friend had an extra ticket and the person he invited wasn’t going, so.. here i am” he smiled looking at how you nodded, taking in his worlds. so he wasn’t a rave fuckboy, perfect, you thought to yourself.
“what about you?” he looked to you, smiling. he swore his cheeks would be more sore than his legs when he wakes up tomorrow. “this is my 2nd rave, but my friend also sort of forced me to tag along” you replied, smiling as you remembered how ningning tried to bait you into going with her. “so we’re in the same boat then” jisung muttered, laughing softly. you smiled and laughed along with him. “i guess so”
if the people around you two were listening to the conversation, they would think that you and jisung had zero interest in one another. the truth was far from that, you two were so interested in one another that you were both equally nervous to talk to each other. being so close to each other made it even more intimidating for one another. your hands brushed together, fingers so close to interlocking but jisung pulled his hand away in fear, his cheeks as red as a rose in bloom.
“so-” “so-“ both of you said in unison, looking at each other then giggling. “go first” jisung said, his smile only growing. “uh are you doing anything after?” you looked up and tilted your head slightly, jisung thought it was cute when you did that. considering you did it twice it had to be a habit for you. “aside from heading back to the hotel, nothing at all” he replied, making you nod. “same with us, we’re staying in a hotel as well” he smiled at this, must mean you live somewhere close to wear he lives.
“so where are-“ in the midst of jisungs question your phone started ringing, you pulled it out to see ningning contact card. you looked up at jisung and he shook his head, “please take the call don’t worry about me i’ll just. um be standing here” he said, a little awkwardly making you gush. you answered the call and put it to your ear.
“what?” you said, jisung glancing your way. you look a little frustrated but anxious as well. you glanced around the crowd, spotting what seems to be your friend. jisung really only thought this because she kept waving at you. you hung up the phone and turned back to him. “i really have to get going.. are you gonna be here tomorrow?” you said, jisung nodding. “yeah we’re here till sunday.. so i guess ill see you tomorrow?”
the two of you looked at each other and jisung quickly fished his pocket for his phone, fumbling while opening it to the phone app. “let’s trade numbers, you know so it’s easier to find each other” he said with a light tremble in his voice, you smiled and the two of you traded phones, typing in your phone numbers. “i saved my contact, you know in case you forget” you said, handing his phone back and he only smiled. “i couldn’t forget” he mumbled, making you blush for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” you said, looking up at him and jisung nodded. “see you tomorrow” jisung smiled back, waving as you ran off to meet with your friend. now if he could just grow a pair and text you tonight it could play out perfectly for him.
after having to drag a very wasted chenle to the uber and to the hotel, jisung washed up, getting out of the bathroom to see chenle sprawled on the bed, clearly not following the rule they set to stay on one side of the bed. he sighed, drying his hair with the towel and sitting on his side of the bed, or what was left of it.
he looked down at his phone and his thoughts only drifted to you, you would’ve texted him by now if you wanted to talk to him. what if you dropped your phone in the bathtub? or worse someone stole it. maybe you were asleep? whatever it was jisung was overthinking and his head was starting to hurt because of it.
he laid down in bed, the only things that were heard in the room was chenles soft snores and the hum of the ac. once again, his mind just kept drifting to you. maybe he was too pushy? maybe you didn’t want to give your number to someone and he forced you to so that’s why you weren’t texting him yet. jisung looked at his phone and groaned once more, feeling fed up with all the thoughts in his head.
he unlocked his phone and went to his messages, starting a new chat with his contact. his thumbs played over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say. after five minutes of typing and retyping his text, he finally sent it, immediately flipping over his phone and turning to the other side so he wasn’t tempted to look.
jisung [11:37 pm]: hi :)
your phone buzzed in your hand and you looked up to see the text notification, immediately sitting up. “what?” ningning mumbled next to you and peered over, also immediately sitting up. “oh my god you got his number you sly girl!” ningning teased, slapping your arm playfully. you turned to her with your shocked expression and her smile dropped, slightly confused.
“what do i do?! i don’t even know what to say and i didnt think he would text me i mean i was hoping he would but i didn’t think he would you know!” you rambled, ningning trying to keep up. “okay calm down uhm.. just say hi back! what could go wrong” she smiled and you nodded, faking a smile. ningning was wrong everything could go wrong
what if he thought you were desperate for replying so quick, or maybe he was asleep and he wouldn’t see until the morning so it would just be weird. you stared back at the text, now overly anxious. usually you had no issue texting people but this was different, he was a guy but not just a guy he was a guy you wanted.
jisung was a cutie and you can admit that you were attracted to him so it meant something that he texted you first. you sighed, trying to push your nerves down and opened the text to begin texting him. your thumbs did a little dance over the keyboard, trying to think of something to say.
jisung picked up his phone again, the screen still open to the conversation and his eyes widened when he saw your typing bubbles. he waited very impatiently as the bubbles appeared and disappeared, finally uncovering the message you were typing.
yn [11:42 pm]: hi :) what’s up jisung [11:42 pm]: nothing just wanted to see what u were doing :D yn [11:43 pm]: ohh, i just got in bed lol. wbu?? jisung [11:43 pm]: i’m in bed too hahah jisung [11:43 pm]: there’s a full moon tn, not sure if u saw jisung [11:44 pm]: it’s pretty jisung [11:44 pm]: you know if ur interested in that stuff :) jisung [11:44 pm]: cool if ur not yk
you read the incoming texts jisung was sending and smiled, holing back a giggle since ningning was now fast asleep. you shifted in bed and got up to open the curtain, looking at the full moon up in the sky. he was right, it was really pretty. you smiled down at your phone and typed away.
yn [11:46 pm]: it is really pretty, thanks for telling me :))
jisung smiled down at your message, shifting his position in bed so now his back was facing chenle. he smiled as he typed his message to you, feeling his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.
jisung [11:46 pm]: yeah ofc, so are u gonna head to bed? yn [11:47 pm]: most likely, im exhausted :/ jisung [11:48 pm]: lol me too, my legs hurt yn [11:49 pm]: see u in the morning :) ??
jisung read this text over and over, smiling even bigger the more he read it. he felt like such a high schooler during this whole thing because he was fighting the urge to giggle and hug his pillow like a schoolgirl.
jisung [11:50 pm]: yeah totally, see u in the morning yn :) yn [11:51 pm]: night night !! jisung [11:51 pm]: night night <3
the second jisung sent that text he immediately regretted it, seeing the heart on his screen. he groaned, flipping his phone over and holding his head in his hands. he was so dumb, you were probably so weirded out now.
you smiled reading his text, giggling to yourself. your cheeks started to feel hot as you laid back down in bed, the text still echoing in your head. you picked up your phone from the nightstand and typed away, hitting send on the text you were typing. then flipping your phone over so you could head to bed.
yn [11:52 pm]: <33
jisung read the text and smiled bigger than he ever had, almost squealing. he liked the message and set his phone down, a smile still big on his face. he turned over to face the nightstand, getting ready to head to bed, his mind still plagued with you. for once, he was glad chenle forced him out to do something.
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♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ♡ 𝐄𝐦𝐨!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡
꒦꒷‧₊ Content Emo!Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, college au, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Sorry I'm posting this so late, I had almost no time to write it so it's very rushed. But I wanted to give everyone something to read today even though it's short. Happy Valentine's Day!
God, did Gyutaro hate Valentine's Day.
Everything about it disgusted him. From the bright colors and sweet smells to the mushy feelings and love confessions. Thinking about the horrid day made him gag.
It didn't make sense to him. Half of these people who celebrate Valentine's Day together will be broken up before the year ends. So what's the point? Haven't they learned yet that love is a facade that only ends in a broken heart?
Maybe that's the emo in him speaking, but can you blame the boy for feeling that way?
His heart has never beat for another. To be honest, most people would be convinced that his heart doesn't beat at all. From his never-ending brooding attitude and his overtly emo attire.
Love isn't something he often thinks about. But deep down he does fantasize about having someone to love, especially around this time of year. That's why you'll rarely see him leave his dorm during February, except for attending mandatory classes of course.
Seeing all of these couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey, a part of him yearns for it. Sure they are probably inevitably destined to end in heartbreak. But sometimes he wonders if experiencing love is worth the heartache. Maybe that's why people always come back each year to celebrate this dreaded holiday.
By now he's pretty convinced that love wasn't meant for him so he does whatever he can to drown everything out. Because there's no way in hell a girl would ever take interest in him, so it's better to just avoid them all.
When Valentine's Day finally comes Gyutaro begrudgingly leaves his dorm. But not before he puts on the heaviest, most anti-normal person emo garb that he has. Of course, he has his usual graphic tee, skinny jeans, and black jacket with the sleeves rolled up. But today he makes sure to put the black eyeliner on heavy and wear spiked bands around his wrists. The combat boots and metal chain on his hip top the look off.
He hopes this will be enough to deter anyone from speaking to him today. He only has two classes so as long as he can get through that then he'll be fine. Steering clear of any painfully romantic couples canoodling all throughout campus.
The day goes by longer than it should, but eventually, he gets through his classes.
Though he can't shake this heavy feeling inside of his chest. He tries to ignore it but as he saw more and more reminders of what today symbolizes the feeling only got stronger and stronger.
"Why am I feeling this way...?" he mumbles to himself as he clutches his chest. Inexplicably his eyes begin to water as the feeling worsens.
Panicked and annoyed, Gyutaro quickly leaves the building and walks towards one of his favorite spots near campus, a small secluded creek surrounded by tall trees that make him feel like he's in another world. He has to trudge through some shrubs to get there, but he always goes here when he wants to be alone.
Sitting down on a fallen log and lighting a cigarette, Gyutaro sighs.
He doesn't want to admit it, but he does feel incredibly lonely. Sometimes he internally curses everyone who has things that he doesn't, especially when it comes to having a loving relationship. He knows he isn't the easiest guy to get along with so the relationship would probably go south anyways. But that doesn't stop him from yearning for it. All he wants is to be loved. Is that really so much to ask?
He closes his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else.
But he's quickly snapped out of it when he hears a twig snap behind him.
"Shit," he mutters and puts out his cigarette. Did someone follow him? Maybe it's just an animal...
"Hello?" he shouts, hoping that it is indeed just an animal and not a couple that wanted to sneak away together.
"Erm... hi, um... sorry to bother you," you say with a shaky voice as you emerge from the trees.
"Y/N?" his eyes widen as he recognizes you as one of the girls in his art class. Honestly, he only remembered your name because he thought you were really cute. Not to mention sweet too. You haven't talked to him much, but the few times you did you were always abnormally kind to him. Something he wasn't used to from people.
"Yeah, sorry I um," you stutter not sure what to say as you realize how weird it would be to tell him that you followed him out here.
"What're you doin' here?" he raises a brow.
"I-I wanted to give you this!" you shout, your nerves getting the best of you as you force yourself to just spit it out already, "Happy Valentine's Day!" You swiftly hold out a velvet heart-shaped box.
"What..." he whispers in disbelief, "This for me?"
"Yes! I hope you like it," your entire face is red as you awkwardly hold the item, hoping he'll just take it already.
He narrows his eyes as if he doesn't believe you, but he takes the box anyway. Flipping it over, inspecting every detail, seeing his black painted nails shine as he moves his hand around the box. God do you love how he paints his nails.
"What is it?" he asks skeptically.
"It's a bomb," you respond.
His eyes widen as he stares back at you like you're a madwoman.
"Gyutaro, I'm joking!" you chuckle, lightening the mood, "Just open it already!"
He scoffs, holding back a laugh as he opens the velvet box. Inside are messily decorated chocolates in heart shapes.
"They taste better than they look, I promise..." you say sheepishly, hoping he won't hate them.
"Did you... actually make these?"
"Mm hm," you nod, "I tried to at least..."
He genuinely can't believe it. He doesn't even care that half of the chocolates look like turds, he's just touched that someone went out of their way to make something for them. Hell, he would have been happy if you just bought a box of chocolates from Walmart. But this? He never expected someone to do this for him.
"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he says in disbelief, his mind telling him that there's no way this isn't a joke or a cruel prank.
"W-Well um... maybe after a few dates..."
"... what?" his cheeks go red, "N-No! That wasn't what I meant- fuck um... never mind," he stutters, flustered by the thought that a pretty girl like you actually is considering having sex with him.
"Th-thank you," he spits out, "I love it." An awkward smile pulls on his lips, revealing his crooked teeth.
But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
You've been crushing on him so hard ever since you met him this semester. He hasn't talked to you very much, but he doesn't seem unpleasant. Just quiet.
But when you happened to see him talking to his friends one day after class, you witnessed him smile for the very first time. And it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wished that one day you could make the cute emo boy smile like that.
And you finally did. Even if he ends up rejecting you, you don't care. You made him smile and that was what you were really aiming for. A rare reaction you barely see cross his face.
But honestly, Gyutaro doesn't know how to react. He's awkward and shy and totally not used to interacting with people like this. Let alone cute girls.
In an attempt to show his desire to get closer to you, Gyutaro scoots over and pats the spot beside him, "Wanna join me?"
"S-Sure!" You say eagerly as you take a seat beside him.
Gyutaro leans back, staring up at the sky as he tries to process everything that's happening right now. But there's one question he can't get off his mind, "What made you wanna give this to me?"
"I think you're really cool..." you shyly admit as you fiddle with your fingers, not brave enough to look at him as you confess your feelings, "I like your style and I always wanted to get to know you better. But I never knew how."
He's internally kicking himself for making himself appear so unapproachable. Sure it kept the normies away like he wanted but it also kept cool people like you away that genuinely wanted to get to know him.
"Aw man... thanks. I think you're pretty cool too," he smiles, putting his hand on top of yours, "Maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class... I-If you want to."
"Of course! I'd love to," you beam excitedly, not only because he wants to hang out with you but also because he's touching you right now, "Y'know I um... I'm not doing anything tonight."
"Me neither," he blushes and turns to you, "Wanna come over? I have a sick record collection we could listen to."
"I'd love that, Gyutaro," you say, squeezing his hand. Just happy that you get to see the emo boy smile. But this won't be the last time, you'll be seeing that crooked smile of his a lot more after today.
#gyutaro#gyutaro shabana#gyuutarou#gyutaro x reader#gyutaro x y/n#gyuutarou x reader#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#valentines day
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002. SEVEN YEARS OF SILENCE〃✦ ┆ E.W
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PART ONE
ꔫ PARING: childhood friends ellie x reader
ꔫ WORDCOUNT: 1750
ꔫAN: Had to put two parts together for this one but as always hope you guys enjoy it and happy valentines day!!
ꔫ WARNING: angst, religous guilt (i think thats it)
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Hours passed as you monitored Ellie's condition. The initial crisis had passed, but she remained unconscious. You found yourself checking her vitals more frequently than necessary, using each moment to study the face you'd forced yourself to forget. The guilt that had been your constant companion for years felt heavier now, more tangible in her physical presence. When your shift finally ended, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. Instead, you sat in the uncomfortable chair beside her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor became a soundtrack to your thoughts, each beat reminding you of time wasted, of words unsaid.
Your colleagues gave you questioning looks, but you brushed them off with professional explanations about monitoring a critical patient. You couldn't tell them that this was Ellie, that she was once the person who knew all your secrets, who made you feel seen in a world where you were constantly hiding. As dawn approached, her eyelids began to flutter. Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, torn between the desire to be there when she woke up and the urge to run away again. But this time, you stayed. You owed her that much, at least.
When Ellie's eyes finally opened, they were clouded with confusion. She blinked several times, adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting. Your heart raced as her gaze slowly focused, then widened with recognition. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of years of silence hanging between you.
The silence stretched taut between you, filled with unspoken apologies and years of missed chances. You could see the questions forming on her lips, the way her fingers twisted nervously in the hospital blanket. The familiar gesture transported you back to countless late-night conversations, when she would gather her courage before sharing something important.
Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Is this real, or am I having one of those dreams again?" The words 'one of those dreams again' echoed in your mind, making your chest tighten. You leaned forward slightly, maintaining a professional distance despite every instinct urging you to move closer. "You're in the hospital," you explained, your voice steadier than you felt. "There was a car accident. You've been unconscious for several hours." Ellie's eyes never left your face as she processed this information.
Then, unexpectedly, she let out a weak laugh that turned into a grimace of pain. "Of course," she muttered. "Of course it would take something like this to see you again." The bitterness in her voice made you flinch. You deserved it, you knew you did, but it still hurt. You busied yourself checking her vitals, using the familiar routine as a shield against the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "I should get the attending physician," you said, starting to stand. But Ellie's hand shot out, catching your wrist with surprising strength. "Don't," she said, her voice stronger now. "Don't run away again. Not yet.” You sank back into your chair, her touch burning against your skin like a brand. The monitor beside her bed betrayed the quickening of her heart rate, matching the frantic rhythm of your own. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the words feeling inadequate after all this time. "I was... I was scared." Ellie's grip on your wrist loosened but didn't let go. "Of what? Me? Or yourself?" The question hung in the air between you, demanding an answer you weren't sure you were ready to give. But looking at her now, pale and vulnerable in the hospital bed, you realized you'd spent too many years running from the truth.
"I..." you started, but before you could finally voice the truth that had been trapped inside you for so long, the door swung open with a soft whoosh.
Her doctor strode in, his white coat pristine and his expression professionally neutral as he glanced between you and Ellie, noting your positions with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, you're awake, Ms..." he consulted the chart, "Ms. Williams. I'm Dr. Thompson. I see our resident has been monitoring you closely."
You quickly withdrew your wrist from Ellie's grasp, standing up and smoothing your scrubs. The moment shattered like delicate glass, leaving behind a thousand sharp edges of unspoken words.
"I was just completing my final checks," you said, your professional mask sliding back into place, though your voice wavered slightly. "I'll leave you to examine the patient."
As you moved toward the door, you caught Ellie's eyes one last time. They held the same mixture of hurt and longing that had haunted your dreams for years.
Your shift had ended hours ago, but leaving felt impossible now. The weight of unfinished conversations and renewed possibilities anchored you to the hospital. Still, exhaustion tugged at your edges, and you knew you needed rest to face whatever tomorrow would bring. With heavy steps, you made your way to the locker room to change, your mind replaying every moment of your encounter with Ellie. The drive home loomed ahead, but you wondered if sleep would come at all with so many words still caught in your throat.
Days passed like a blur after that night. You threw yourself into your work, picking up extra shifts in different departments to avoid the fifth floor where Ellie was recovering. Your colleagues noticed the change in you, the dark circles under your eyes deepening, but you brushed off their concerns with practiced smiles and vague excuses. But you couldn't avoid her for any longer, since no one ever wants to change to work the night shift. You were faced again with dread knowing that the next night you’d have to see her again.
As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, memories of her voice, her laugh, and that final look in her eyes kept cycling through your mind. You checked your phone compulsively, though you knew there would be no messages - you hadn't even exchanged numbers.
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When you finally arrived for your night shift, your footsteps echoed hollowly through the hospital corridors. Each step closer to her room felt like walking through quicksand, your chest tightening with every meter. You'd changed your route about three times, taking longer paths to avoid passing her door, but eventually, duty called you there anyway.
The sight of her empty bed hit you like a physical blow. The sheets were pristine, tucked with hospital corners, no trace of her remaining. Your throat closed up as panic clawed its way through your chest. Had something happened? Had she been discharged? Had you lost her again without even getting the chance to—
"Looking for someone?" Her voice came from behind you, making you spin around so quickly you nearly lost your balance. Ellie stood in the doorway, one hand gripping an IV pole, the other pressed against the door frame for support. She looked stronger than yesterday, but the shadows under her eyes matched your own.
"You shouldn't be up," you managed to say, your professional tone betraying none of the turmoil beneath. "The accident—"
"Don't," she cut you off, her voice sharp. "Don't pretend this is just about medical concern. Seven years y/n. Seven years of silence, and now you want to hide behind your scrubs and pretend we're nothing more than doctor and patient?"
The use of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It sounded both foreign and achingly familiar on her lips. You took an involuntary step backward, your back hitting the edge of the medical cart. "Ellie, I—"
The monitor beside her beeped faster, matching her rising anger. She pushed herself up despite the pain, her knuckles white against the hospital sheets.
"You know what's funny?" she continued, her voice trembling. "I waited. For months, I waited for you to call, to explain, to give me any fucking reason why my best friend suddenly decided I wasn't worth knowing anymore. Joel kept telling me to let it go, but I couldn't. I couldn't understand how someone who promised to always be there could just... disappear."
Each word was a knife, cutting deeper than the last. You wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault, that you'd been drowning in your own fears, your own inadequacies. That leaving her was the hardest thing you'd ever done, and you'd regretted it every day since. But the words stuck in your throat, just like they had seven years ago.
"I thought I was over it," she whispered, her grip on the IV pole tightening until her knuckles went white. "I thought I was over you. But seeing you yesterday... God, it's like no time has passed at all. I still—" She stopped abruptly, swaying slightly.
You moved forward instinctively to steady her, your hands hovering near her shoulders without touching. The space between you crackled with tension, with all the things left unsaid. Her breathing was slightly labored, and you knew you should insist she return to bed, but you couldn't bear to break this moment, as painful as it was.
"I never stopped thinking about you," you finally admitted, your voice barely audible over the hum of hospital equipment. "Not for a single day."
Ellie's laugh was bitter, wet with unshed tears. "That makes it worse, doesn't it? That you thought about me but still chose to stay away. That you cared enough to remember but not enough to write. And now here you are," she laughed, but it was a hollow sound that made your chest ache. "Playing doctor in your pristine white coat, probably living that perfect life your parents always wanted for you. Was it worth it? Was losing everything we had worth making mommy and daddy proud?"
Blood began seeping through the bandage on her forehead, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Her breathing was ragged, each word seeming to cost her something vital.
"I needed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "When everything went to shit, when I lost everyone else, I needed my best friend. But you were too busy becoming exactly what they wanted you to be."
The monitor's beeping reached a crescendo, and you instinctively moved toward her. She recoiled.
"Don't," she warned, tears finally spilling over. "Don't you dare try to fix this now. You lost that right a long time ago."
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶
taglist: @liasxeatt@chaengluva@junipertried@bready101@pornoangelz@xeneasworld@ellensmithxo@xxannyxx@lovelookspretty@vahnilla@lina222eidolonl@fairylesbean@rxreaqia@feralshaunalvr@minnimoon@ilovewomen4lot@iheartclairo66@abbyswh0r3@mxquelo@kaykeryyy@badbye777@mimasroom2 @dollinrehab @0phantom0 @t0x1cw4st3-x3 @sevyscoven @casualdeathxx @ellieslittleslutt
(some i couldn’t tag sorry)
#lesbian#princess 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔. ˚. ᵎᵎ🪷#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie tlou2#ellie williams tlou#tlou#tlou part 2#ellie williams angst#ellie willams#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader#sapphic#wlw post
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Dottore's unofficial fan club is working on their next biggest accomplishment - fanfiction of him and his lover.
The rumors and whispers of what Il Dottore and his segments got up to in their labs were some of the most spoken-about (and overused) pieces of gossip that new recruits found themselves petrified by. What do you mean he did this? And that?! Oh, the horror!
However, wherever these kinds of words happened to be spoken, a loyalist of the Harbinger was bound to pop out somewhere and vehemently refute any such statements with their heart, soul, and mind. Although such people seemed crazy at first, quite a few of them existed, much more than what anyone who had any surface level of the scholar would guess. After all, how else could they write over a hundred-page handbook of their Harbinger? Their dedication to their craft could possibly rival Dottore himself!
Their Lord Dottore had so many things to admire, so many traits spread across his various segments. They could only worship from afar, but also, they had another person to appreciate - none other than the only person who he held fondness for, his utmost beloved - you. It was a critical point in the fanclub, seeing how sweetly their Harbinger treated you, and how you kept him on his toes. Well, now they could add "loving partner" to the list of things they loved about him! What joy!
As such, today they had gathered to continue working on the next installment in their writing, more specifically - "Dottore x [Name] - Valentine's Day Oneshot" (the title had yet to be determined). With serious expressions and pen and paper in hand, they had begun their work.
"Do you think that the Lord Harbinger would be interested in such a day in the first place?"
"Well, considering my Lord let [Name] put mistletoes and wreaths during the holidays on the lab doors, I don't think he would be completely opposed to the idea." A chorus of agreement from the others sounded in response.
"Alright, alright, listen to what I have so far!"
—
["Oh Dottore!~"
The man could hear the cheery and excited voice all the way down the hallway before the person even entered the room. Of course, there was only one possible person this voice could belong to, only one person could have the gall to act like that toward him. Nearly bursting through the door, they spoke once more.
"Are you ready?!" A wide smile stretched onto their lovely face, save for some small pants. Dottore, with his back turned, could safely hide a small smile, despite his seemingly unbothered hums.
"Not a moment too early or late. Exactly on time," he mused, listening to [Name]'s skipping footsteps approach from behind him, fully expecting the warm arms wrapped around him.
"Well, I definitely don't think you forgot either. But I think you're just excited to eat some of my sweets again." [Name]'s face nuzzled into his back as they giggled, tilting their head to peer at his calendar. It was filled in with a work-related thing listed nearly every day, but more importantly, the fourteenth had a time slot set specifically aside for something unnamed. The only person who could ever guess correctly would be Dottore himself and his beloved of course.
"Perhaps I am. What then?" Dottore turned around to face [Name] properly, their face now snug into his chest as they looked up with shining eyes, his hand stroking the top of their head.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to take all the chocolates before you, Dottore!"]
—
"Wait wait wait, don't you think [Name] would refer to Lord Dottore in a more affectionate manner in private?"
"I did think of that, but I wasn't sure what else to use..."
"Alright, try this then."
—
["Well, I guess I'll just have to eat them all before you," [Name] teased him, his real name flowing from their lips freely, making the Harbinger catch them in a kiss.]
—
"Oh yes, that's perfect!" The agent squealed, delighted at how the ship was sailing. "Okay, let me skip ahead a bit!"
—
[The couple had found themselves in the kitchen, utensils and ingredients surrounding them. The two were a capable duo that got along with ease, their minds seemingly in sync with each other. Soon enough, the cookies had been finished and left to cool on the counter. The plain yet sugary cookies looked scrumptious, and were it not for his lover's insistence to decorate them, Dottore would have already finished his share.
Not wanting his beloved to get too tired, he hoisted them onto the table to rest their legs and stretch a bit. With a smile, [Name] took his hand and pulled him closer, not even flinching at how dangerously close the beak of Dottore's mask got to their face (they had become accustomed to the peck of it by now.)
They placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting out soft giggles when he returned the favor. The scholar's hands wandered down from their shoulders to rest on their thighs, squeezing them.
"Why don't you focus on the other sweet treat, hmm?" They teased him by suddenly pressing a finger full of icing to his nose, to which he scoffed and pulled back at the cool sensation. Wiping it off, instead of tasting it, Dottore smeared it near his partner's mouth.
"Hey! You're not-" Their protest was quickly quieted when Dottore pressed his lips against theirs, licking up the delicious frosting as well.
And so, [Name] and Dottore had a lovely Valentine's Day.]
—
"Archons, that was a great story!" The others nodded resolutely in concurrence.
"I wonder how my Lord will actually spend it with [Name]..."
—
Meanwhile, back in reality some interesting things were happening.
Firstly, you had indeed invited Dottore to bake with you, but numerous things had gone wrong (as you had expected to be honest.)
The two most notable are when you both ended up caked in flour (instead of icing) and when you had turned your back to your beloved for only a bit, and he later presented you with his cookie.
"Y-Your cooking will put me in my grave," you coughed again, "quicker than a-any illness would." There was no romance to be found here. It was dead. Even his absolutely precise measurements couldn't save him.
Ah, and of course you couldn't forget the segments' arguing that happened yearly on who received the best box of cookies. You had to yell at them as they became pouty.
It was a chaotic Valentine's Day.
—
When you conveyed this one day to a few curious agents, they looked unusually stunned.
"So... Lord Dottore cannot cook?"
"Lord Dottore is banned from the kitchen unless he has your explicit permission?"
"The Lord Harbinger isn't suave?"
"O-Our fanfiction is... i-inaccurate?!"
"Oh, the horror!"
"Fanfiction...?" You were a bit confused but you tried to alleviate their worries.
"W-well, I'm not sure why you'd be so worried about this... but you can rest assured that Dottore and I had a sweet Valentine's Day. He did help me bake cookies when I watched his every move! Naturally, he also made sure I didn't get hurt. Even when we got splattered with flour, I threw some more at him for good measure, and you know what, he got back at me too!" You laughed, remembering how he too could be playful.
"And I gave sweets to all the segments too and they were quite happy, even if they can be stupid and silly sometimes! They're all so smart, but sometimes they're complete idiots. That's just how they are, and I love it. "
"Besides, the more Dottore messes up, the more time I get to spend with him. It's silly, but I actually like it. But don't tell him that. He'll figure out my evil plans," you joked, not yet aware of the tears bubbling in the agents' eyes at your and Dottore's heart-throbbing and passionate love story.
If there was one thing that the agents got right, it was the love you and Dottore had for each other - imperfect - yet you wouldn't have it any other way.
#smooches talks#dottore love notes <3#fragile reader <3#dottore x reader#when i say my fingers flew to write this#in which i mean i wrote it very quickly bc ive been dry on here and i feel bad AND its valentines day so its the most appropriate for fluff#anyway. call me cringe if u want (ik i am) but dottore's fanclub fangirling over dottore and reader will always have a special place in my-#heart#divider by cafekitsune
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The thing is there really isn't similar imagery in the backgrounds. The only similarity in the backgrounds is that they both have lighthouses in them somewhere and those lighthouses look completely different.
But I do think this is maybe starting to get a little too bogged down in the imagery. A good visual parallel can absolutely cue the audience in to look for more parallels and similarities (or contrasts), but it's not actually necessary to creating a meaningful parallel (nor is it sufficient, but that's a unrelated conversation). So let's set aside the lighthouse and visual parallels for a second and look at the other points of comparison. Taking from above this are two scenes where "ed strangles a mean old white guy who’s hurt the ppl ed loves" so our three points are 1) mean old white guy, 2) hurt the people Ed loves, and 3) strangles (I know that's out of order, but this is going to flow better if I do strangles last).
Starting with mean old white guy, I don't want to leave it unremarked that there are actually a fair number of mean old white guys in this show, but that said that doesn't it can't be a meaningful point of similarity in this instance; we have to consider how being a mean old white guy relates to these two scenes. So with Izzy, Ed attacks him because Izzy is being homophobic (in that way that's also pretty misogynistic) poking at Ed's vulnerability and heartbreak and more broadly trying to police Ed's performance of masculinity. Ed attacks his dad because his dad is an abusive dick who beats his mom, which is suppose does loosely connect to Izzy's thing on the misogyny front, but it's fairly tenuous. (I am aware of the cut line where Teach Sr is mad Ed's mom made him weak but ultimately that line was cut and to my knowledge we don't know why.)
I do actually think this could be a meaningful point of connection, but sort flowing out from the parallel rather than flowing in. That is to say I don't think this is strong enough of a similarity to make a much of a case for there being a parallel here, but I think if we can find other evidence to help establish that there is a parallel between Izzy and Ed's dad, then we can use that parallel to inform us more about these characters. It could help strengthen the case that Izzy's behavior is meant to be abusive for people who won't believe that unless they see man hitting a woman or in the other direction it could help suggest that Ed's dad also policed Ed's masculinity (I absolutely do think he did that), some textual evidence to bring that cut line back into play even.
But we still need to build the case for that parallel. Next is hurt the people Ed loves. Big check on that for Teach Sr; the way it's presented is he hit Ed's mom and then Ed followed him out into the night and strangled him. He did it and it is immediately connected to what's happening in the scene. But with Izzy it's a bit more of a stretch. Not that he did it, Izzy definitely hurt Stede, tried to kill numerous times. The problem is it's not really that connected to what's happening here. Prior to Izzy getting into Ed's face, Ed's totally chill with him; there's no indication that he's bearing a grudge aout Izzy trying to kill Stede. And while Ed lashing out is immediately preceded by the mention of Ed's "boyfriend," but not in a context where Izzy is talking about having hurt Stede in the past or where Izzy is even trash talking Stede in any particular way. Rather, Izzy is putting Ed down for his feelings for Stede; he's insulting Ed for being heartbroken. So yeah, Izzy has hurt the person Ed loves, but that's not relevant to this scene, if the person Ed loves in the scenario is meant to be understood to be Stede (put a big old pin in that; we are going places in this post).
Which brings us now to the strangling. Ed choking Izzy and his dad are hugely important parts of these two scenes, enough to be the basis for argument that there is a parallel here worth further investigation all on its own. If we have the strangling we don't even need the lighthouses. (What a weird fucking sentence, lol.) The problem is the methods of choking not being similar enough actually is really important in this specific case. Because it's not as simple as Ed strangling his dad (he also kills him. And if Ed had killed Izzy, that would definitely be enough for a parallel, and also a special treat for me, but alas. Back on topic.) The most important, impactful thing in that whole sequence where Ed kills his dad is in the opening where he's telling the kraken version of the story, we get a shot of Ed's dad from the front where we can see the kraken's tentacle wrapped around his neck, strangling him, while Teach Sr grabs at it with both hands, trying to pull it away from his neck. Then later when Ed is confessing to Stede, we see the same shot again, but this time the tentacle has been replaced by a rope with Ed behind him, pulling on it. "I'm the kraken." The method Ed uses to strangle his dad is deeply embedded into the metaphor they've built. If you want to build a parallel based on the strangling, Ed's needs his metaphorical tentacle to strangle Izzy with. I don't think it needs to be a rope per se, it could be a rope or a tie or he could turn Izzy's own cravat against him or grab a string from Frenchie's lute, or pull his own sleeve down (picture with me for a moment Ed, with the pink robe falling off his shoulder as he uses his shirt sleeve to strangle Izzy. Beautiful). He just needs something.
So despite all that, and as you might have picked up on, I'm not actually opposed to the idea that maybe there is a parallel between Izzy and Ed's dad here. But to get to that, first we need to jump a head a bit. Lets go a couple scenes later to where Ed is suiting up, and then looks at his reflection and says "I'm the kraken." There is our incontrovertible call back to the scene where Ed kills his dad. That sentence is pretty particular, it's not something he's likely to say in these two different scenes by coincidence. And furthermore it connects thematically across the two scenes. The first time Ed says is he's using it as a way to confess to Stede that he is not a good person, he's a monster. And in the second instance he is declaring the same to himself as he starts to fall into his downward spiral.
Now let's follow the narrative parallel backward. In the flashbacks what caused Ed to "turn into the kraken" was killing his dad. And then after that he never killed anyone directly again, not until right before he redeclared himself the kraken when he killed Lucius (or at least he intended to kill Lucius and thought he had, which is close enough for this parallel). The parallel to Ed killing his dad then is actually when he (almost) killed Lucius. Which is not to say that I think they are trying to imply a similarity between Lucius and Ed's dad; if anything it's a parallel of contrasts where there is meaningful analysis to be done in unpacking what the significance is in the two people he killed being so different, but that is beyond the scope of this meta, which is already too scopeful for its own good.
Now let's move back in time even further. The (attempted) murders were what pushed Ed over the edge into becoming the kraken, but what was it that pushed him to that edge? In the flashback it's the scene where Ed watches his father his father abuse his mother. In the present, its this scene that we started with, where Izzy confrints Ed. Boom, there's your Izzy-Ed's dad parallel. Its not to the scene where Ed is strangling the abusive dick, its to the scene where he's being an abuser. And now you can go back to all those comparisons I said you could draw if we could prove the parallel and plug those in.
And also, let's go back to the pin I put in the idea of Izzy hurting the person Ed loves. If the parallel is to the scene where Ed strangles his dad, then the part where Izzy hurts someone Ed loves has to have happened before this scene. But if this is paralleling the abuse scene, then Izzy should be hurting the person Ed loves in this scene. It's Edward. That soft vulnerable part of himself, that's the person who Ed loves that's paralleling his mother. Bring that cut line back, Ed's dad accused his mother of making Ed weak, and now that "weak" side of him is paralleling his mother.
And if we have Izzy paralleling Ed's dad and Ed is paralleling his own mother, then we're creating a parallel in Ed and Izzy's relationship to a married couple. Which ties perfectly into the fact that this episode also has Ed and Izzy paralleling Stede and Mary. (Another parallel of contrasts in that case. They're perpendicularing them?)
And I know maybe it sounds weird that I was pushing back against the other two scenes not being similar enough, when these scenes aren't seemingly that much more similar. And I can pick out the specific details to argue the case like was done with the other two scenes. The one scene being in Ed's home and the other in Stede's quarters which Ed was trying to make into a home with the abuse violating what should have been a safe space. The thrown plate to the torn and crumpled page and thrown book. The disgust at being presented with "slop" and the disgust at "whatever it is you've become". The storming out at the end of the scene. And there is definitely something very very about comparing the violence of Ed's dad backhanding his mom and the violence of Izzy stroking Ed's cheek. But really the point I want to make here is it's not in the random details you can point to as similar if you look at them right. Its about thematically, narratively what are these scenes doing, and that's where I think these two have the stronger parallel.
So I’m up to episode 10 of my most recent rewatch and I noticed something interesting in the scene where Izzy confronts Ed. At the beginning of the conversation the camera tends to stay with Ed in the left side of the frame and Izzy on the right, with the space between them in center. We do get some shots of just Ed where he’s in center (not included) but any shots that focus on Izzy still keep Ed in the frame with Izzy staying right of center.
So I am not a cinematographer by any stretch, but this seems all pretty straight forward to me? Like, we’ve got these two people having an argument so we’re showing them on literal opposite sides, and our shots are biasing toward whoever is speaking at the moment, but with an overall bias toward Ed, who we’re supposed to sympathize with.
But where it gets interesting is when Izzy makes his namby-pamby comment, and Ed pushes Izzy up against the wall. Izzy is still right of center, but take a closer look at what is now in the center of the frame.
The lighthouse painting. The lighthouse which represents both Stede and Stede & Ed together. In this moment while Ed briefly appears to have control of the conversation, this painting representing many of the things Ed wants and wants to be is prominently in the shot even while we’re supposed to be focused on Izzy. And as an added bonus just as Ed is consistently on the left side of the frame in this argument, the lighthouse is on the left side of the painting.
But then Izzy takes back control over the conversation. He reaches out and strokes Ed’s face, causing Ed to jerk back and let go of Izzy.
Izzy takes advantage of this to step closer to Ed, bringing him to center frame.
And even then he continues to get closer and closer.
And as Izzy whispers his threat to Ed we’re left with this: Izzy filling the center of the frame, with Ed only barely visible at the very edge, and the lighthouse missing from the painting, completely blocked out by Izzy.
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is it just me or is like the whole stuff of cishet men dni and (cis perisex) women only spaces conflating vulnerability with safety? like, with a cis man and a cis woman who otherwise have quote unquote equal positions in society otherwise, there's the risk (or put it danger) from him being able to use his male privilege against her. but if it were a trans man or another cis woman instead that doesn't make them safe and unable to weaponize misogyny or commit interpersonal violence against her, they are just vulnerable to her ability to fight back so to speak in ways that the cis man isn't. but it feels like (general) we talk about these things like they're the same.
I firmly believe that every single transgender person is a marginalized gender due to their transgender status- this is something that I have seen discussed within black transfeminism regularly (see also: MaGe) and yet we get onto tumblr and suddenly all of that disappears under "by effect of being a man you inherently have male privilege and your very existence oppresses all women" rather than realize that transgender people as a whole operate within a structure of marginalization themselves.
As I have said repeatedly- it's not that I don't think trans men are capable of having male privilege (we are) or that I don't think trans men can contribute to and even utilize misogyny to our benefit (we can) - it's that the power and effect of this can depend wildly from trans man to trans man, and what one trans man is capable of might be well out of reach for another.
I have a good friend who is, on paper, demographically very similar to me. She is a cis lesbian, black/white/native, occupying the same tax bracket and occupation, disabled and neurodiverse. We've had extensive discussions about black and gender and gay politics, even when we don't agree we can usually see where each other is coming from.
I have absolutely no problem stating that in certain situations, I do absolutely have privilege over her despite my status as trans and hers as cis. I'm fairly cis-passing at this point. We go out to eat together whenever we can- it is demonstratably significantly more likely that she will be hit on and harassed by a cishet man looking to shoot his shot with a pretty girl than I am. It is significantly more likely that any and all pushback she gives this hypothetical man will be, at best, ignored, and at worst, met with physical or sexual violence. It is also significantly more likely that my very presence at the table will prevent him from doing so, as my approximate physical positioning to her acts as a claim to would-be creeps, and any pushback I give in this scenario is more likely to be met with him backing off.
It's also true that should this would-be creep clock me, register either of our gay signaling, or be racist on top of sexist, this situation might also go sideways for the both of us at any given point. It's entirely possible that this guy will spike her drink when I get up to use the bathroom, or that he'll follow us out to the parking lot and stab one of us, or cause a scene to get us both kicked out. We are both black and gay, after all. Intersectionality is key, here.
Three years ago, I had not yet started testosterone. I only passed maybe 50% of the time, and usually assumed to be a teenager despite being just touching 30. Three years ago, this hypothetical situation would have played out much differently.
Twelve years ago, it did. I was in college and had gone to a local McDonalds with one of my friends, another student there, for lunch. A man old enough to be our grandfather began to hit on us, ignoring our pushback and attempts to move away from and ignore him. I was binding at the time, with my hair cut short, going by he/him exclusively with my friends and out within my college sphere. And yet, what made this guy back off was my (white) cishet friend who prickled at him and began to make a scene until he heard that we were college students, at which point he disengaged entirely. Yup- he was looking for high schoolers to creep on, and we both made various noises of disgust once we realized his actual target.
Being a trans man had very little if any effect on this situation- my presence at the table was no help, my refusal to play ball was no help telling him to go away and that we were not interested was no help. The only thing that helped was killing his pedophile boner once he knew we were adults. I shudder to think what would have happened had we actually been kids.
Back to my cis lesbian friend and the present day- the portion of the sport and dog fancy we both occupy is very cis woman dominated. She can and often does flex what power she has in order to help others get their start- we joke often that she's collecting a posse of trans men as she's somehow managed to sell to majority trans men with her most recent litter. She has no problem wading into a situation where a trans man is being ejected from a queer group and arguing for his right to stay. Early on in my transition, she would loudly correct pretty much anyone misgendering me until that person fixed their shit- and would hover making faces behind me if I was present at a show and they were being a shit about it.
She also sometimes goes on woman-only retreats. And, to be clear, it is her opinion that a trans woman by definition of being a woman should be invited to these retreats. She does not want men at these woman-only retreats, and that does include trans men. And, you know what? I don't really blame her- she wants a space where her womanhood is centered and not have to deal with Men And Their Feelings. Fair- men can be exhausting to deal with especially for lesbians. But she also agrees that maybe pushing a freshly-out trans man out of the group is perhaps a bit cruel if he has been there for years. Most likely, he will go on his own once he gets his feet under him. There's no need to shove him out the door prematurely.
And I think that's really the crux of it.
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just elaborating on the previous ask
no, it is not because she “has a bush” and no it is not transphobic or misogynist to point out that you specifically drew her hairier than any other character when she is the darkest black women you have drawn or portrayed ESPECIALLY when you are portraying a real cis black actress who does not have the arm hair you are putting into your artwork.
women can and do have hair i am not saying that, but black women in particular have a long history of being forced into a realm of masculinity that is purely because of their skin color, maybe look into that instead of an article on “women and hair” if you are trying to show that you listen to criticism
hello again anon
to reiterate, i do want this to be a conversation, im not trying to shut you down or downplay your concerns by bringing my own. i do feel its relevant to inform you that you bringing up the fact that cynthia is a cis woman and should thus have less hair IS breeding grounds for those concerns.
on that note, i am NOT portraying the real life person cynthia erivo in my drawings, but elphaba thropp the fictional character. elphaba, if u didnt know, is not cis. shes intersex, as stated in the books. i do understand that using cynthia's likeness makes elphaba a black woman and so i have been careful abt my portrayal of her, but elphaba is not cynthia erivo. its important to make a distinction between the actress and the character
further, if the arm hair ur speaking of is the armpit hair, cynthia probably does have arm hair and chooses to shave it. i just dont think elphaba the character would be the type to shave.
if ur talking abt this drawing though i will point out that this is an alternate universe in which elphaba is a werewolf, as stated in the post, which is why she is so hairy. if i drew galinda as a werewolf, id draw her just as hairy! (which is smth ive done in the past, drawing white ppl / non black ppl as hairy werewolves.)
also, i have drawn darker skinned women who weren't as hairy:
my goal isnt to draw black women more masculine than non black women. my goal is to just draw women, all kinds of them, and it includes hairy black women bc i believe women being hairy does not make them more masculine. my intention shows in my drawings too: im not drawing elphaba less of a person or less pretty than galinda bc shes hairier. she just is hairier
in an effort to have a wider perspective on the subject, i did talk about this with my friend. shes an indigenous woman so to clarify shes not trying to compare her experiences to black women's, just offer her own perspective and she means all of it in good faith. i asked if i could show what she told me bc i felt like she explained things in a really thoughtful and intelligible way
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Like my Blog, I’m curious by choice. It’s a natural instinct to want to know more. By nature I like to look at the whole puzzle and then do my research before entering my two cents to the conversation. Half theories and droplets of information is fine and dandy…. However it leaves way too much room for interpretation. Now you may say that’s hog wash and that anything we receive is gold.
But again… ever heard of fool’s gold?
“Fool's Gold can be one of three minerals. The most common mineral mistaken for gold is pyrite. Chalcopyrite may also appear gold-like, and weathered mica can mimic gold as well. Compared to actual gold, these minerals will flake, powder, or crumble when poked with a metal point, whereas gold will gouge or indent like soft lead. In addition, actual gold will leave a golden yellow streak when scraped on a piece of unglazed porcelain. Pyrite and chalcopyrite will leave a dark green to black streak and the common micas will leave a white streak (https://www.usgs.gov/faqs/what-fools-gold).
We are given information purely based on what is chosen to be released. The way I interpret an event, statement or picture could be different than how everyone else does. I see a kinship with Nic and Luke while others may not see this. Does not mean that I will go and lecture them on why they are wrong while I am correct. (Also does not stop the TROLLS from stating their own opinions).
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What we saw on the WT and with all interviews published, they hold a strong bond and respect for one another. In the past we were spoiled with the WT so we saw them together all the time. Now that we do not see them interacting or together publicly does not mean BTS they are not. They have other projects and Bridgerton (Nic did confirm they popped in and out while filming). I think silence and the fact we don’t see what we had seen before speaks volumes. Especially since the WT was supposed to be PR (“supposed to” being the word to focus on) to get the word out about S3 dropping.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/968b7c00a0f87c6812a55d80b457d0fa/0fcb2fdd0bb8a5ba-ab/s540x810/9becb5b06b625bb5ff36ae068f25faa63ce4f608.jpg)
When we see behaviors changing between two people, we stop and think. Or we should, some of us went to the theory that they are beefing (insert eye roll 🙄 ). Because we saw their beautiful performance in S3, we knew that they had great chemistry. Always claimed that they had a great friendship. The interviews these two gave. Ofta. Put ideas in our heads. But realistically, it’s known to happen. Friendship like theirs could grow into love.
“The truth is that if the person you have strong romantic feelings for is already your friend, it’s a good thing! How and why? It’s because a close friendship lays a solid foundation for a romantic relationship!
Think about it: you already know them quite well. You know that they have great qualities (which is possibly why you caught feelings, to begin with), and you know and accept the flaws too. Hopefully, your friend also knows and accepts you as a whole.
So, there won’t be this need to be the best versions of yourselves in that initial phase of infatuation and attraction in the relationship (https://www.marriage.com/advice/love/signs-a-friendship-is-turning-into-love/)!
⬆️ A really good article! See the ⬇️ signs
17 signs that your friendship is blossoming into love:
1. The communication frequency suddenly increases
2. You start experiencing jealousy
3. The body language between you two evolves
4. You’re both single
5. You two start flirting with each other
6. Your friend’s behavior turns hot and cold toward you
7. You start having long conversations with each other
8. When something happens, you need them to know first
9. You both try to find ways to be alone with each other
10. The pet names for each other change
11. You tend to mention your friend very frequently
12. You both feel an air of awkwardness and nervousness
13. Your friend is being more vulnerable than usual around you
14. Your common friends know what’s happening
15. They ask you out
16. There’s more physical touch
17. Prolonged eye contact
Does any of these sound familiar? Don’t make me bring up that bracelet Luke received with the engraving from a “fan” (Sure Jan 😉)
Again, your honor, I rest my case.
Xx 🩵
#lukola#luke newton#nicola coughlan#my thoughts#my opinion#not facts#speculation only#bridgerton#nicluke
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If you could write Raphael in as a companion, how would be be recruited? What would his approvals/dissaprovals be? What is his personal quest? Would he be romancable?
That's alot of questions!
Ok settle in because this is going to be a big read. I put way more thought into this than I should have lol
Disclaimer: Obviously this isn't going to align with canon and will require a disregard for most of the story beats involving Raphael as an NPC, like the entire House of Hope quest. This is just a fun little "what if" and isn't to be taken seriously.
Recruiting Raphael:
He will find you. Either one night in camp or in one of many spawn triggers on the map in the wilds. His conversation about the tadpole and offering his deal will be mostly the same. In order to recruit him, you must express interest in the deal. Either by agreeing right away, or saying you'll consider it. Raphael's responses are basically all the same even if you agree to the deal, he won't actually make you sign a contract. He'll tell you to "shop around".
Then, you must ask "if I do want to take this deal, where would I find you?"
Raphael's response will be something along the lines of:
"I'll be around. In fact, maybe I could join you in this little misadventure. I'll lounge about in your camp while you run around looking for answers. I could offer sage advice, experience, or even be a confidant."
DIALOGUE TREE:
"If you'd like to join us, by all means. We could use all the help we can get." ←
"No, no way."
"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"
"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you."
"It's settled then, I'm sure I will be a very valuable asset. This is going to be fun."
"If you'd like to join us, by all means"
"No, no way." ←
"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"
"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"
"As you wish. You'll change your mind. Of that, I am certain. And at that time. It will be too late. Best of luck."
The party will be transported back to camp/where Raphael spawned.
"If you'd like to join us, by all means"
"No, no way."
"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?" ←
"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"
"There's something about you that I find fascinating. I think it would be to our mutual benefit, should I join your merry little band." (back to dialogue tree)
"If you'd like to join us, by all means"
"No, no way."
"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"
"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you" ←
"Oh, I am counting on it. I'll be keeping mine, on you. I'll see you soon."
All dialogues except the outright refusal will result in the party being teleported back to the spawn, or back to camp, where Raphael will be waiting.
If you refuse to recruit Raphael, he will be seen again at Last Light, talking to Mol. You only get that once chance though to recruit him. After that, he operates similarly as he does in game as an NPC for Astarion's personal quest. He will be present again in act III in The Devils Den as set dressing for Sharess' Caress. In which case you can talk to him about what he's doing there. He will say he's just enjoying the show, watching the group run around trying to save themselves. You can ask if he would still join the group, at which he will laugh and say.
"Oh no my dear, that ship sailed long ago. Now, I'm just here to witness the carnage, and benefit from all this tragedy."
If you do let him join, he will remain in camp for all of act I and act as a giver of advice/merchant for rare items. He accepts soul coins as currency. In act II, he will leave for a few long rests to get information regarding Astarion's scars, once that event is triggered.
If Raphael does join the party, you will need to do a skill check to keep both Wyll and Karlach. If you fail to convince them to stay, they will leave the party or even become hostile, by some dialogues.
Raphael's Personal Quest:
His personal quest will align with his desires in the base game. He will have much to say that provides context to certain story beats he was previously involved in. Such as the Shar stronghold in the Underdark. If Halsin is not alive, Raphael can be a means to get information regarding Moonrise, the shadow curse, and the Shar stronghold. He will not have a romance scene at the party. Though much flirting can be exchanged and you can choose to think about him as you go to rest for the night.
The first thing he will ask you to do is help him kill Yurgir in The Shadowlands. If you do kill Yurgir, he will help Astarion with his scars. If you don't he will greatly disapprove and you will need to "convince" him to stay. He's messing with you. The skill checks don't actually matter, though they will have different dialogue responses depending on success/failure, and start the player off on lower approval than if you did kill the orthon. Though if you do refuse to kill Yurgir, his romance arc is locked and you cannot romance him later.
This is when he will officially join the party. I think he'd be a bard, so that's what his class is in this little "what if".
His personal quest then involves the crown of Karsus in act III. His arc will include "Archdevil Supreme" or convincing him to give up the crown. With resulting romance/platonic cutscenes for both.
Approvals:
Prioritising yourselves over the problems of others.
Agreeing to help others, for a price.
Exploiting people.
Anything he finds entertaining, like interrupting the bugbear and ogre.
Disapprovals:
Being kind/taking on quests for nothing in return.
Siding with the Absolute cult.
Using illithid powers.
Raphael Romance:
This is a tricky one. I think his romance would be mostly backloaded and starts in act II. If you talk with him at the party and express interest, you two can exchange some steamy words as he recites a poem he wrote for you. You can then either laugh at him and reject his advances, or say you like his way with words. He will then express a very primal interest in you, and say it's best if he let it fester a while. He wants to string you along a little. His greetings won't change, and there won't really be anything to indicate that the dating flag has been set. But if you flirt with him and express your own interest, it will be flagged. You will also have the option to tell him you just don't see him in that way, that you prefer to keep the relationship 'professional'.
In act II, (if you expressed interest previously) after you kill Yurgir, and Raphael joins the party officially. Raphael will have started off with more approval than the other companions, if the romance dialogues were met in act I and you asked him questions about himself/expressed gratitude for his advice when speaking with him in camp. If his approval is lower, you will have chances to get it up around the shadowlands. After approval is high enough, he will approach you and say he has enjoyed his time with you with an odd amount of sincerity. He will say he sees the potential in you and what you and him can accomplish together. That he has been watching the way you lead and handle yourself. And that, oddly enough, he has admiration for you. (side note, there would probably be more dialogue if the player is a dark urge/raided the grove. But I don't have enough brain juice for that currently.)
DIALOGUE TREE (there's lead up of course but I can't be bothered lol so here's the lock in dialogue):
"I spend most of my time categorising people by what use they have to me. And you have proven yourself very useful. But there's something else. Something I haven't experienced in another person for...A long time. I have grown quite fond of you, you know- in my way. Unexpected, but not repulsive. I very much enjoy you and your company."
What are you saying? ←
So I've just been your pawn this entire time?
I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.
I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.
If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.
"I'm saying, I would like to be something more. Something other than the professional relationship between future client and patron. I would like you to be my paramour, my flame, my right hand. I would like to discuss my plans with you, and lie with you at night."
What are you saying?
So I've just been your pawn this entire time? ←
I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.
I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.
If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.
*laughs* "Well, yes. I thought that was obvious, dear. But I would like to be something more than that. You have impressed me in many ways. You're ruthless, you're determined, and most of all, you seem to also be interested in me. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."
What are you saying?
So I've just been your pawn this entire time?
I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that. ←
I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.
If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.
"You've made it quite obvious, my dear. I'm flattered, really. But if flattery is not the limit of your intentions, I would very much like to explore something more. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."
What are you saying?
So I've just been your pawn this entire time?
I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.
I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way. ←
If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.
"How interesting. I was sure- No matter. If that is how you feel, that is how it is. I may have overestimated you. That's it then, no more has to be said. Have a wonderful evening, dear."
What are you saying?
So I've just been your pawn this entire time?
I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.
I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.
If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole. ←
*laughs* "Well well, I seems to me that I have given you entirely too much credit. So be it. You will continue to be my puppet, and I will continue to enjoy watching you squirm for your worthness, pathetic life."
Every option besides the rejection one has that similar dialogue. If you agree to the romance, being the one he lies with, he will smile and take the players hand to kiss the back of it. Raphael will then snap his fingers and the two will be transported to a very cozy room with candles and a very large bed. After some more dialogue, the player can choose to have sex with Raphael in either his human or cambion form. Maybe I'll write that section in more detail in a smut or something but for now just use your imagination lol
In act III, Raphael will express a similar interest in the crown of Karsus as Gale does. His iconic monologue about Karsus will still exist. You can either encourage this in a similar fashion, or convince him that uniting the hells would be an impossible task and a death sentence. If you go Archdevil Supreme route, Raphael will become the ruler of the nine hells and you will live there with him as his infernal spouse. He will be loving but distant, and busy. Running all nine hells takes alot of work. The player will want for nothing though. They will have access to every outlet of pleasure and luxury possible. The player will also go through a subtle but apparent transformation to be a little more fiendish, so they can tolerate the environment of the hells. If convinced to give up the crown, he will continue as he is. He will go from between the House of Hope and wherever the player is. He will spoil the player as much as he can and visit often. Sometimes the player will visit him as well. But they still lead their own lives.
I'm sure I could refine the romance arc but I think these are good bones for now.
Thank you for the question! I spent like three days thinking about this lmao.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3#asks box#raphael bg3#raphael baldur's gate 3#raphael the cambion
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