#at least this one is a good puzzle to solve in some parts

[badkitty3000]

Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

[3hks]

How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory

Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?

For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!

First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!

Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.

Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.

Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.

Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.

There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader)

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, implied ED

Parts

Part 1// Part2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

School trips were never really your thing. Sure it was good to be out of classes but to you it just seemed like an extension of school and honestly you’d rather be anywhere else.

One of the teachers thought it would be a bright idea to take you all out of school for a week to spend it in a forest ‘immersed in nature’. Possibly their tactic to get everyone to stop being at eachother a throats especially after the whole Cady incident a few months back.

It didn’t help that your best friends Janis and Damien both ended up getting sick at the last minute so couldn’t come with you , now you had to stay in your shared cabin alone. At least you didn’t have to room with a random person the whole trip, small mercies I guess.

The coach drive there was boring. You sat near the front, making sure to put your bag on the seat next to yours so nobody tried to sit with you. Of course Queen Regina and her minions took ownership of the back of the coach, that’s why you decided to sit upfront. Best to stay out of the firing line.

It’s not that you hated Regina, you understand why she’s the way she is. It’s a smart move to position yourself at the top of the food chain to avoid being mauled. Your tactic has always been to just steer clear of the food chain entirely which has worked so far.

The coach finally comes to a stop after a few hours and everyone shoves their way off and mills around in groups before a teacher starts to call out names and lodge numbers so people can go and unpack.

As soon as you turn the corner you hear Regina’s shriek of horror.

“Eww, what the fuck are these. I thought we were staying in chalets”

You roll you eyes. The cabins were clean, neat, maybe a little rustic. Of course Regina would still have to be dramatic about it.

“I’m sure forcing us to stay in one of these is some form of neglect.” She snarks at Mrs Norbury as she takes her hot pink suitcase over to her accommodation.

Luckily you get assigned one of the cabins at the edge of the forest, it’ll be quiet. Unfortunately it’s the next cabin over from the plastics. Not that they’ll even notice you there, I’m not sure any of them even know your name. It feels safe to be invisible, if not a bit lonely.

Once everyone is settled, a teacher comes round to each cabin explaining that tonight you can just get settled. No hiking or activities today, just a campfire and dinner later. That suits you perfectly. You sit on the creaky bed in your cabin, pull out your Switch console and start to get lost in a game. Hours pass before dinner call and you make your way, alone to the campfire.

You sit on your own, out of the way of all the different high school cliques. At this point you wish Janis and Damien were here. It feels vulnerable sitting alone.

To distract yourself you watch the other groups like a documentary maker. Noting the way they interact, the tension between them and the clique next to them. However nobody quite catches your eye like Regina.

She’s like a lioness. She has this invisible hold over everyone. They can all fuck about in their own groups but as soon as someone steps a foot out of place she roars and swishes her mane and everyone scampers back to obedience.

Currently she’s sitting at a bench with Gretchen and Karen, they’re talking enthusiastically about their plans for the trip; makeovers, cabin decoration, girly shit. Regina seems zoned out, she’s been pushing the same bit of food around her plate for a good 15 minutes. Every few minutes it’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, rearranging everything until teachers tell us to go back to our cabins and rest for the evening. You’re not sure you saw her eat a single thing, the food is probably not up to her standards.

Regina stands and suddenly seems snapped out of her trance, flashing a grin and summoning Karen and Gretchen back to the cabin with her.

You follow, a good distance behind. No point getting too close to danger, and slip back to your Cabin unnoticed.

There’s not much to do alone in a forest so you end up putting on a movie and start a new page in your sketchbook. Janis and Damien are the only ones to know you draw. That’s how you ended up speaking with Janis in the first place. If that news ever got back to Regina she’d probably have something to finally pick on you for, but so far you aren’t even on her radar.

You lose a lot of time sketching out some of the trees you can see out of the window, lots of tall, looming pines fill the page, you start to sketch a lion between the trees.

Eventually darkness creates a blanket around the forest. There’s a soft glow from many lamps outside of cabin doors, but past that, the forest seems endless in the dark. It’s 10:30pm. Teachers are fast asleep. Students definitely are not.

You hear snickering coming from the plastics cabin. Their lights are still on, not that you care at all.

Since all the teachers are asleep you decide that it’s probably safe to sneak out and have a cigarette. You stand down the side of the cabin so that your silhouette is obscured slightly by a bush and hunt through your pockets for a lighter. Finally you light the cigarette, trying to blow the smoke downwind, away from the teachers window.

“Karen! Fuck! Would you just stop puking, shut up!”

You watch from the shadow as Karen falls out of the door and begins to heave into the bush next to their window. Gretchen follows quickly, shaking Karen by the shoulders, desperately trying to get her to shut up so they don’t wake anyone. Regina steps out too, slightly loosing balance and nearly falling down the steps after them.

Clearly they’re all drunk. Someone must have snuck alcohol in.

Regina tries to keep a composed look but you see panic flash across her face briefly as her eyes scan around them, watching for any witnesses. You stay completely still against the cabin wall.

Karen finally stops for a second and they grab her by the arms to try and get her back inside. Their balance isn’t very good either and on the way in Regina’s foot connects briefly with a terracotta plant pot which wobbles for a second and then crashes to the ground, smashing over the front step. A sound that cuts through the night air.

The light to the teachers cabin flicks on.

You quickly drop the cigarette and stomp it out before silently scrambling back into your room, making sure the door closes soundlessly, watching intently through the window.

Mrs Norbury storms over to the plastics lodge, already suspecting they caused the noise.

You can’t make out exactly what’s being said. There’s a lot of shouting, from both parties. Then Mrs Norbury leaves, and the plastics light goes off too.

You quickly get into bed. It’s unlikely anyone will check in on you, but you decide it’s time to sleep anyway, it’s late, and drift off to the sound of the wind through trees. The wind sounds faintly like a roar.

In the morning you shower and begin to get changed when there’s a knock at your door.

“Regina will be rooming with you for the rest of the week, make sure she doesn’t try sneaking out.”

[zombiecheri]

A Girl And A Samurai

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

tags: slight dubcon?, reader is drunk, mizu is a bit tipsy, thigh riding, fingering, mizu does a knee thing, grinding, neck kisses, neck bites, teasing, fluff

A/N: here's the second part finally! It's nsfw as you can tell from the tags so 18+ please. Hope you enjoy. It will have one more chapter after this.

chapter 1

Chapter 2

On the fifth day you both found a small inn and decided to stay overnight instead of spending yet another night shivering out in the woods by the small campfire. You told her you'd cover the cost and mizu nodded, leaving you standing in the middle of an inn as she sat down on an empty spot ordering soba and glancing in your direction with a questioning look. You shook your head and went up the stairs to your shared room not feeling hungry.

That's how you ended up sitting on a tatami with a bottle of sake in front of you as you took sips from the cup trying to run away from your own thoughts.

From that day where you got to know her name, you two got closer and the more you got to know her more your mind started drifting away noticing small details about her that made your head heavy with thoughts and heart full of feelings that you were scared to address.

The way her eyes softened whenever she shared memories about her swordfather, bits and pieces from her childhood, her deep, raspy voice that send chills down your spine and how surprisingly kind she was despite her somewhat fearsome appearance.

And those lips, that slight curve at the edge of her mouth and mirth in her ocean eyes whenever you shared some silly memory from your past made you go weak in the knees, made your face red and left you a stuttering mess.

So you drank. Downed a cup and then another and another to forget it. Forget the feelings that weren't supposed to be there. Drowning in sake until you couldn't think at all.

She found you like that after she returned in the room with nearly half the bottle empty and you sitting on the bed not meeting her eyes choosing to look down at the floor instead.

Mizu wasn't a fool, she noticed the way you were looking at her, noticed how easily you got flustered everytime she smiled at you and despite herself she grew interested. Intrigued at the possibility of what lay underneath that kind appearance and charming smile. You were somewhat of a puzzle and she realized she wanted to solve it, to understand you better. As easy as it was to fluster you, you carried yourself with such dignity she hadn't seen in other women before. At least not in women of your status. It was mindless, carrying yourself in such manner in a place like this where any men could easily take advantage of you at any given moment but even despite that, she was curious.

She decided to push your buttons a little bit to sate that curiosity. Or maybe she was just bored. Either way, there wasn't much to do on a road so she'd try to pass time to see how much she could tease you and it seemed that you've finally reached your limit at last.

"Where did you get that bottle?" Her ocean eyes narrowed at the half empty bottle before settling on your form, eyebrow raising in question.

Mizu's words shook you out of your trance and you finally looked at her, eyes following her as she sat down on a chair in front of you.

"I had it with me" your voice was surprisingly steady considering how much you've drank but fortunately, or not in your case, you could handle the alcohol quite well so it didn't manage to get you as drunk as you'd hoped. More like, she interrupted you before you could do it.

Your plans to drown your feelings with alcohol didn't work out. She was right in front of you and there was nowhere to run - from your thoughts or from her. Not that you hoped you could outrun her at all. Nowhere to go, nowhere else to stay. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to drink on the road but it was too late to dwell on that, you supposed.

You let out a sigh and tried to stand up and stumbled the world spinning around but before you could fall mizu's hands were on you firmly holding you in place.

Perhaps you did manage to get drunk after all, you wondered as the world continued to dance and spin and twirl. You felt like you were spinning along with it.

You didn't want to look up, you couldn't, but she didn't let go and curiosity won so you peaked a glance behind your lashes and instantly regretted it.

Mizu was looking down at you with that familiar curve at the edge of her mouth and amused glint in her icy blue eyes and you understood in that moment why she hid them behind the tinted glasses all the time (besides hiding her obvious mixed heritage). Her eyes were so expressive and you were going to drown in them.

No, you were already drowning. You couldn't breathe, couldn't blink as the world continued twisting and her face was so close.

When did she get so close?

Her breath smelled faintly of alcohol and it seemed you weren't the only one who was drinking. Maybe, some distant parts of your mind wondered, she was also running away from something. Or someone.

Ah, your thoughts were wandering off again and her face was getting blurry. You blinked and let out a breath you were holding in, then you leaned forward. Mizu's eyes were so pretty you could get lost in them forever. Her eyes widened a bit and the hand holding you, let go. You didn't like it so did something unthinkable, something that if you were sober you'd probably have regretted doing.

You reached for her. Your fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. You saw her eyes narrowing in suspicion? Or something else, you couldn't tell at the moment.

"what are you do-"

Before she could finish the sentence your lips were on hers, soft and warm against her rough mouth. And it seemed that world finally stopped spinning.

Kiss didn't even last few seconds before she was pulling away - from your soft mouth, your wandering hands and from you.

Regret suddenly crashed into you like a wave, settling uncomfortably in your stomach and you tried to think of something to make her stay, to not turn her back on you and leave you in this inn. Would one kiss make her run away? Probably not, but you couldn't face the shame and embarrassment of that, couldn't face her after she rejected your advances so blatantly. What could you say to make you feel less like a mess? Sorry I thought you wanted to kiss me? Sorry, I misunderstood the situation? Sorry, I was drunk?

stupid girl

You couldn't even look at her but before your drunken mind could come up with an explanation her hand was on your wrist. Mizu's warm fingers were holding you tightly and suddenly you were the one pulling away. You didn't understand.

You didn't..

And in the next moment, she was pulling you closer, into her arms, into her warmth, her lips against yours and time seemed to stop at once.

Your pulse panicked, stuttering to a halt and tried and tried to start again. Heart was beating against your ribcage with such ferocity your mind felt dazed.

While your kiss was soft and tender, a slight touch of lips, a whisper - hers was bruising, demanding, almost as if she tried to devour you. It was not a warm kiss. It was all-consuming. A warm breeze against a ranging storm if you were to compare.

Mizu swallowed your gasp and the next one and licked her tongue inside your mouth that sent a pulse through you forming a knot in the lower part of your stomach.

You got lost in the taste of her, her smell and the feel of her hand on your waist. She made a sound then, not a gasp but not a groan either, mix of a two perhaps and that noise did something. You chanted her name against her lips as you tangled your hands in mizu's kimono trying to steady yourself on your shaky legs, pulling her closer and closer until there was not a space left between you, until you were molded together like a statue and you felt like you were being pulled underwater and searing up high in the sky all at once.

You weren't unfamiliar with the heat and lust and your hands between your legs easing that tension, that burning need, reaching the high and left shaking and satisfied afterwards, but you had never experienced it to the extreme, to this extent, to the point where you couldn't breathe.

You remembered then. To breathe.

You pulled away and took a deep breath to dive right back in, kissing back just as hard, hands clutching the kimono so tightly as if she'd disappear if you let go. You didn't know what it was to be kissed like that.

Mizu was spinning you around then, your back against her front, her knee coming up between your legs and making you gasp. Her hands were traveling up your body, warm fingers tracing the patterns on your kimono before sliding inside and finding your breasts.

You let out another gasp, legs shaky as her fingers brushed against your hardened nipples, her knee keeping you steady and suddenly Mizu was turning you around again taking few steps back dropping down on the chair and pulling you down, on her.

Your legs parted, your kimono loose and you sat on her thigh as she continued to devour your mouth in a franzy and then moved lower. To your cheekbones, to your neck. Found a pulse point there and bit down and you let out a choked moan head falling limply against her shoulder.

She smiled against your skin and shifted her leg the motion making her thigh brush against the spot that got your head spinning. You suddenly felt shy. Your head buried in her shoulder hiding your flaming cheeks and muffling your gasps and moans.

"you okay there?" Mizu chuckled, but she wasn't as unaffected as she tried to seem. Even in your drunken state you could hear the slight edge to her raspy voice, feel the light tremble of her long, slender fingers wandering on your body freely.

The voice did something to you still, lightening up whatever nerve center controlled your body and not your mind and heat pooled between your legs and became nearly unbearable so you grinded down hard on her thigh and felt her wandering hands against your waist coming to a halt.

You didn't feel shy anymore. You felt starved, desperate. You wanted more.

you needed more

She let out a startled sound and you swallowed it and then another and suddenly roles were reversed. You were the one reaching for her, hands roaming on her body, sliding under her loose kimono feeling the bindings wrapped around her chest. You continued grinding down and the tension raised. Your mouth found hers again locking in a hungry kiss battling for dominance as her frozen hands finally slid down your body, her fingers brushing against your bare thighs and stopping there. Teasing.

"Mizu" you let out a desperate huff, meeting her eyes and she laughed, her knee raising intentionally to brush against your damp spot not quite enough to sate the lust but enough to make you crave more.

Your lips found her neck and you were biting down hard making her laugh get stuck in the throat until it turned into a strangled moan as you sucked and licked, her hand gripping your waist almost painfully, but you didn't really mind. If anything, it made you crave her more.

Mizu stopped teasing you then, her fingers running up and up on your thigh until they found the dampness, pushing the fabric away and sliding inside your heat without warning.

"fucking brat" she sighed in your ear and the world was starting to shift and crack again as she continued pumping her trembling fingers.

in and out, in and out

In a steady rhythm, sliding as deep inside as she could reach before pulling them almost completely out of you, occasionally rubbing against your clit and the tightness was growing and you were going to..

you were going to-

Her voice, her smell, her breath against your skin, her words. You were overwhelmed, your head was spinning, your eyes were losing focus. Something about the way she said it, something about that tone, that deep and raspy sound...

Then you were spiralling.

Your body jerked and you grabbed her for support as the feeling wracked through you, hands trembling, your eyes closing shut orgasm overtaking you sending almost painful waves of pleasure like shockwaves throughout your body. You clamped down hard against her fingers and she slid them out completely after your body stopped spasming.

"Fuck" you murmured against her neck but it didn't quite cover it.

"Fuck" she agreed and adjusted her kimono.

Your world shifted into focus after your trembling eased a bit and you noticed how your wetness left a damp spot on her thigh wondering if she had another kimono to wear. You were watching her as she tied her hair and wondering when it got untangled before your gaze settled on her face. On her eyes.

"let me return the favor" you whispered, your hands already reaching for mizu before she stopped you and shook her head. She did something then that made your cheeks aflame.

Mizu brought the fingers covered in your release to her face inspecting them, giving it an experimental lick before she put them in her mouth tasting you as her gaze never left yours while doing it. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief that familiar smirk in place.

Oh.

Where did she learn to do that? You wondered, your cheeks hot.

"maybe another time, yeah?" she smiled and you nodded your head planting a shy kiss at the edge of her mouth before you were sliding away from her lap, adjusting your own kimono.

another time

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

part 4 to p1, p2, p3

He can sense her emotions, she feels his pain. Baby steps, that's the only way to go.

author's note: guess who's back - and a promised smut chapter turned into slow burn. any reported typos are appreciated. there will be p5.

"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."

He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.

Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, head getting filled with desire and lust. Lando's lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.

"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."

Lando was on cloud nine. He was just staring at her as if she was a miracle. Her deep eyes unable to stay away from looking at him and lips that had a silent invitation written on them.

He was high on the way how relaxed she felt, proud that he made her feel like that. It was as if there was no yesterday or tomorrow. Just them and the couch. And after few moments of silence and collecting his bravery, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was clear to him from the moment he took her upper lip in that he'd give anything for this moment to take at least a thousand years. She did not hesitate and kissed him back immediately. The sweetest touch a woman can give. Leaned in and let nature do its miracles. He smiled into her lips and pushed himself closer to her, making her sink in the couch.

It was right then when a loud, impatient knock nearly sent them both into shock. Lando froze and back away from Y/N little bit, furious with whomever that dared to disturb a key moment in their lives.

"Lando, I apologize, but we have an urgent matter on our hands."

He rolled his eyes and let a deep breath out, recognizing the voice of his workoholic PR manager. This was not the first and probably the last time he had to tell his team off in the dark of the night. Internet never sleeps.

"Can it really not wait this time until tomorrow?" he said before he gave Y/N shameful and apologetic look. She just kept herself quiet, sunken into the comfy couch.

"I'm afraid we will need some immediate action," came from behind the door after another impatient knock.

Lando got his phone out to check the time, only to see 17 missed calls from several people.

"Ok, I'm coming."

He half opened the door to a very flustered PR manager, who looked like he was about to announce a coming tornado. Lando just raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to spill the beans and then planning on dismissing him.

"Anita released a break up TikTok. It's going viral."

As far as emergencies go, this one felt to Lando like a second-tier one. He was more concerned about the anxiety he felt coming from Y/N. Kind of wished she was kept out of it, for her own good.

"I'm sure we can address this in few hours," Lando replied calmly.

"She accused you of cheating. In a very colorful manner, I must say," the guy continued, as if he was not confident enough to fully explain the situation. "I'm in touch with her publicist, so that we can come up with a joint statement online. Apparently she won't talk to anyone but you."

Lando stayed silent, the only thing he really wanted was to close the door and return to the couch.

"We can't have another cheating scandal. McLaren will get involved," he pleaded once again in hopes of finally convincing Lando.

Deep breath. "Sure. Can I meet you at the lobby or somewhere in few minutes?" Lando caved in. A puzzled look flashed over his PR's manager, because usually Lando preferred to solve his crises in the comfort of his suite. The driver hoped no comment would come his way. After few seconds, the guy finally nodded.

"Understand, sure. I'll see if we can get the conference room."

He closed the door and tried to brace himself for any type of reaction Y/N might have. But deep inside he knew - seen it countless times. She abruptly got up, fixed her clothes, flashed him only one quick look before avoiding his face completely.

"Um, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," he said, letting her pass by. The reality hit hard. She barely knew him. Somehow, the air got flooded with inescapable loneliness.

//

Y/N tried her best to follow her daily routine the following week. The memory of her running away from Lando's room like a little child chasing her like a nightmare. It was just so humiliating. The guilt, unjustified, was eating her up. She tried to stay away from social media, but her will was not strong enough. Late night scrolling included absorbing lot of Lando hate.

He also did his best to keep himself busy and focus on his job. If it had been any other person, he'd already be chasing Y/N down and try to reason with her, get this experience behind them and keep starting fresh. Perhaps he was lucky, that he knew her and if he's pushed immediately, she'd just hide even more.

He found himself on the track during free practice, constantly stealing glances over to the medical tents, just to get a glimpse of his guilt ridden soulmate. All he wanted to do was shake some sense to her. That evening he finally snapped. No more hiding. He was about to get creative.

So there he was, alone once again in a random hotel room in a city he barely remembered the name of, trying to get a hand of morse code. Something he never thought would be his issue, ever. It was a shot in the dark. Pinch a message into his arm and hoping she'd understand his intention. After all, she felt his pain, so he figured if he was annoying enough, she'd have no choice but to show up. Many curse words were uttered about the absurdity and difficulty of it all, before Lando got a hand of it. He opted to focus on the rhytmn and after he felt confident enough, abandoned tapping into a table and began pinching his left hand.

Let's talk. Room 1014. Please.

Over and over again. It was so incredibly annoying. But, he was going to persevere even if it meant having a bruise tomorrow.

After what felt like like seven thousand years - a knock on the door.

This was it, he thought as he opened the door to another annoyed person. She shot arrows from her eyes and he could not help but smirk. He won, she cracked the code.

"Now, let's get one thing clear. You are not going to use this trick outside of an emergency. Ok?" she opened with, having hard time to admit he won that round. It's been few days since they last locked eyes. She could practically sink in his. He just gave her a small nod, definitely not planning on misusing this ever again. Absolutely not.

"I'm glad you understood," he said and let her walk in. Was he nervous? That was probably the closest thing to describe it.

"I don't know the Morse code, so that made it super fun," she proclaimed and stopped in the middle of the living room, not sitting down on any of the chairs or couches.

"Me neither. But you better learn it, you never know..." he teased and walked dangerously close to her. She kept her gaze down.

She spoke before he could say any more cheeky lines. "So, I'm here. Anything specific you wanted to say that exceeded your ability of speaking in Morse code?" Her coldness hurt. However, he was not going to let her push him away so easily. "Y/N, this is not going to work on me. You can't push me away so easily, so just try and stop it. Please." Big gulp on her part followed by a light nod. "Good. Listen, I don't want to let this fizzle out so easily. It's hard to think about anything else once I've met you. I'm sorry about the whole break up mess. It's not fair to you. But, in my defense, I had no idea I'd just randomly be sat next to...you," he said, practically breathing out the last word.

She began walking frantically. "It's...um, it's a lot. Your world. And then the fact you seem to know things and are so far ahead in this game."

"It's not a game to me, Y/N," he said, watching her pace around the room.

She stopped by the bed and sat on it, finally able to look at him again. "Ok, bad word, but still," she paused and searched for the right words. "We have nothing to connect with...I mean nothing real."

Lando was not going to buy into doubts. His mind was set. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat next to her.

"Does it scare you? That you are tied to me basically against your will?" he asked the one thing he was afraid to hear the answer to. But he figured that the beginning was never suppose to be easy anyway.

"A little bit. Actually yes, it does," she said, in a strangely releaved tone and his heart sank just few stories lower. Lost in his own head, he nearly missed her giving up on sitting and landing on her back with a thud, eyes locked with the ceiling.

"I never liked being pushed into things. It's my life, I get to call the shots," she began to let her thoughts run freely.

"Choosing something that comes to you willingly does not have mean giving up your free will...I'd just like to at least give this a chance. I know already that I can't be your friend," he whispered, turned his look towards her and slowly lowered himself on his back as well, lost in his thoughts once again.

Lando's body laid still, but his heart was beating as if he was in the final quali lap. He had the advantage, drew the better card. Unique insight into another human's soul. Short cuts and few cheat answers for any test ahead of them. So why did it make him feel all the more lonely? He was reaching out, confused in the exact same capacity as she was, but she was not giving him much back. Yet. If was obvious. He was miles ahead of her, not thanks to his own doing. He could be there for her, but it would take some time and a lot of luck for her to be able to be there for her.

"Can you stay here? For the night?" he asked in a soft low voice, unable to hide his own vulnerability. "Not like, you know," he added immediately, hoping he comes off the least creepy as possible, "Just like this." Baby steps. He was praying for just that.

The body next to him also laid still in a very stiff manner, the exact opposite of relaxed. But the pull towards him was just too loud to resist. It was stronger than her. Curiosity tripped over the tiny fear inside her, grabbed the innate desire for human connection by the hand, and together opened the door for Lando to enter.

"Yes," she whispered, wondering if there is anything she wanted to add.

A small smile crept onto Lando's face. He got up and shit the light off. Both of them settled in a more relaxed pose, albeit still fully dressed. If by some miracle he manages to fall asleep, he will be waking up next to this magnificent, magical being for the first time. And hopefully not the last.

They laid next to each other, like the strangers they were, for few minutes, before she found her own little hand reaching out for his. Soft fingers mixed with his. At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. Lando's heart almost stopped, his breath caught in and resulted in gulp, too loud for the current setting. She could not help but smile and tried to hide it with pressing her lips together - even though it was dark night and both of them had their eyes closed. He mimicked her movements and traced her fingers as well. Every little place he touched burned with intoxicating intensity. He held her index finger lightly while she brushed up and down his thumb.

For the first time in years, Lando was careful. He'd rather lie next to her in silence than risking her wanting him to leave. The guilt from bruising her with his crash still hadn't left his mind. But when her hand crept more and more inside of his, he could not help but circle around it, until he was covering her hand completely. The air was still. Two scared souls discovering each other, tiptoeing around as if they were made of glass. Once Lando started drawing little circles on the palm of her hand, he finally felt her beginning to relax. He was still trying to get his mind wrapped around how the whole connection worked. Perhaps the more open she was to communicating with him, the more of a window he got. His next words slipped through without much of a thought.

"I've dreamt about you probably thousand nights."

Y/N could not recall the last time she heard a sentence that sounded so honest. Raw, it was almost childlike. She thought about her own countless nights when she slept alone and longed for a soul to crawl to. And also all those times she wasn't alone in the middle of the night, yet it still felt like eating someone else's dinner. The emptiness never truly filled. Hand never fitting someone else's like a well-fitted glove. Was there ever anyone who told her something like this before? Probably not. Of course not.

"I'm scared," she repeated.

"I know," he smirked for himself only. "I can feel it...But can you please tell me what's scaring you at this moment? I'd love to understand."

This time it was her who chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit. His heart once again beating so loudly he was scared she could hear it.

"I randomly meet this man, this devilisly handsome guy, who seems to know things I've never even told anyone, is hyperaware of my emotions as if they were his own...How am I suppose to resist this?"

"Why would you?"

"If we proceed with this, I am basically allowing you to become a weapon designed to destroy me. If, or more likely when, I fall for you...How can anyone else ever top that? If you decide that you're bored with me, I'll quite literally only be left with bruises."

He listened to every word as if it was a gospel and this time took a second to calculate his response. Lando opened his eyes to try and see a glimpse of her face in the dead of night, only to find her already looking at him.

"As far as I remember, you were always a part of my life. The one constant that does not leave," he said and licked his dry lips. If she was becoming vulnerable, he'd have to do the same. "If I fuck this up, if you decide that I am not worth spending time with and if you walk away...I'll still be left with the glimpses. I'll have to watch from afar, knowing you don't feel this. Funnily enough, you have the option to choose. I don't."

"And do you even want it? Would you-" she tried to continue with her question, but he interrupted her immediately.

"Of course. Hundred times over. I know you're scared, but I am scared too. Because there is a perfect piece of puzzle right in front of me and if I fuck it up, I am ruined for life."

She only saw a small reflection of light in his eyes, but that was enough to understand he was serious. Her shoulders relaxed and she let a breath she didn't know she had been holding, out.

"Well, good to know you are a dramatic person," she responded, trying to lighten up the mood.

It worked, his small smirk entered the chat again. "Yeah well, get use to it," he said with a new found confidence, tried his luck once more and scooted over to her just a little bit.

"Sorry, there was a hard spot in the matrace," he said cheekily and closed his eyes, trying to play it cute.

His body heat radiated towards her. "Of course, a hard spot in this top-of-the-world matrace," she questioned his argument with a smile, his magic getting her head-over-heels.

"Yes, I'll complain with to the staff tomorrow, these things can really fuck up your sleep, you know."

"So true. And what, have you solved it now?" Another door opened. Lando smiled.

"Still not perfect," he remarked, pretended to have a moment to think and finally scooted over and put his arm around her. "Yeah, this is the only way I'm afraid."

She was glad his eyes were closed, because her smile was impossible to hide. Both of them were fully aware there is no hard spot on the matrace. "Of course it is," she commented, as she settled down in his embrace.

Her face was now settled in crook of his neck, her uneven breaths leaving goosebumps on his skin. His light stubble teasing her forehead. Once again, Lando was overwhelmed just how well she fit in his embrace. He had to actively try and breathe regularly, because he was anxious about giving away just how much he was enjoying having her in his embrace. Her hand was pressed against his chest and Y/N had to fight every cell in her body, because the urge to explore his body was overcoming her. Lando shifted a bit, having to to try and find a spot where his belt wasn't pressing on his body in a way that hurt. Immediately, he felt a sudden wave of guilt coming from her and she bolted straight up. Had he fucked it all up? He cursed himself, he should have just pushed through it.

He forgot to take in the fact she felt his pain. "What's wrong?" he asked shyly, as he also sat up to match her moves.

She took a deep breath. "I don't want to seem like I'm suggesting something, but can we get out of our daily clothes? I hate sleeping like that." Who would like that anyway, was the thought that crept into Lando's mind, but he kept it for himself. "Sure, no problem."

"Do you have some t-shirt I could borrow?" she asked, turning on the light next to his bed, sitting with her back turned to him, perhaps trying to hide away. Lando tried his best not to get shaken up and loose his cool. This wasn't her running away and it was also not her suggesting anything.

"Of course," he said and got up to search up the best clean t-shirt her had. She took a deep breath as she tried not to stare, guessing by the sounds that he was getting undressed. But, as she did, she was happy he did not see her blush. Just like he did before, she forgot to take in account that he felt her sudden arousal and curiosity without having to look at her. For a change, he was happy he had his advantage. He peeked over to her, seeing her abrupt turn back. It was hard not to be amused by her.

"Here you go," he said as he strolled back over to her and handed her his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I won't look," he informed her and as the cheeky guy he was deep down, added his signature wink. "I'm sure there is an extra tooth brush in the bathroom, if you wanna join," he continued and walked over to the other side of the suite, hoping she was watching him walk around in boxers only.

Finally having some distance and a minute to contain herself, she carefully undressed, leaving on only her panties and his shirt on. Only then she noticed just how intoxicating his natural smell was. Knowing well enough she was doomed.

When Y/N finally joined him in the bathroom, he gave her the second toothbrush in silence and kept brushing his own teeth. It was refreshing seeing her in such an intimate setting. He tried as best as he could not to notice just how hot she looked in his t-shirt. Watching her in the reflection, he realized he never appreciated a moment like that with anyone else before. He smiled at her, because he could see her shy nature peeking through causing her hair behind her ear.

She was about to join him back in the bed when she saw him placed right in the middle of the bed, far from when was last time she approached him like that.

"It's the hard spot, there is no other way," he brushed over it nonchalantly and tucked himself in the bed. "Come on, here, here," he patted a spot next to him. In the dim light, with shadows only highlighting his toned chest, curly hair falling over to his eyes, innocent smile and opened arms, he was like a mystical creature created only to entrap Y/N. At least, that's how that felt. No way back.

She slipped in the bed with him, to the exact position as they were just minutes ago and turned of the light once again. This time, Lando was way more relaxed even Y/N noticed the difference. With each passing moment it was becoming less and less stiff or awkward. Comfort replacing natural stress of sharing a bed with a stranger for the first time. For a brief second, it was as if they'd done this every night before drifting off to sleep. Lando was happy to take things slow. Not expecting anything more. He was content with knowing she was not planning on leaving him there alone that night and that was enough. Not for Y/N. Her body was acting way before her mind could stop her. Her now warm fingers started drawing little stars on his exposed chest. It was peaceful. Until her finger moved a little lower. Another gulp from Lando. She felt him tightening his grip on her.

"Careful now...I might get the wrong idea," he breathed out for only her to hear.

Their lips were so riddiculously close, yet too far away. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. All restraint suddenly gone. But she needed to be sure - did he wanted to kiss her? If she dared to ask him, he'd laugh out loud at the obviousness of it all. Poor guy didn't notice her desire because he spent all of his energy trying to hide his.

She licked her lips. "Wrong idea...like sending me away?"

Loud sigh from Lando. "No..the wrong wrong idea," he whispered, being so close to her she could feel his soft breath, as he started to move his hard up her arm, under the t-shirt he gave her. She became very aware of the fact she was not wearing a bra, something Lando noticed the moment she came to the bathroom. His arm stopped momentarily at her shoulder. " Wrong idea that you want me to do this..." he continued moving his hand again, "...or this," reached up to her collarbone while pressing her closer to him with his other arm. "Or heaven forbid..." he whispered a question as his lips were nearly touching hers. Lando was too scared to make the first move, still afraid she might vanish into thin air.

She was brave enough to close the gap. "Or this." With that, she kissed him.

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

@ushygushybaby

[writingjourney]

soft, sleepy sex with the papas

summary: Four short-ish scenarios, one for each Papa, in which you get to do some crossword-solving with Primo, come home after a night-out with Secondo, wake up with Terzo or watch a movie with Copia.

content: 4.8k words in total (each is 1k-1.4k words), f!readers, sort of established relationships, dom/sub undertones if you squint, obviously these contain smut, more detailed warnings in each part, 18+ MDNI

Masterlist – Ao3 link

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Primo 

content: p in v because peepaw can still get it

Half-asleep on Primo’s bare chest, you draw lazy patterns into the fuzzy hair on his left pec, your palm resting just above his steady heartbeat. He keeps one arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding a weathered little book that is open on a half-done crossword puzzle, while his other hand slowly fills in the empty squares. It’s Italian, so you gave up trying to help him a while ago, dozing to the sound of graphite scratching on paper.

But you know you won’t sleep yet. There is a gentle but very persistent simmer in the pit of your stomach. You’ve wanted your Papa all day but when he got home earlier, tired and irritable after an argument with Sister, you hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now, after a light dinner and some restful time with you curled up against him, he seems a lot calmer.

Inhaling his slightly herbal scent, you decide to at least try – he’s going to let you know if he’s not up for it. A kiss to his wrinkly neck and your fingers start trailing from his chest down to his belly. Slow circles with your index and middle finger,  caressing the saggy skin with as much affection as you can pour into such a delicate touch.

You feel him stir, so you move your hand further down, stroking his abdomen. A soft hum deep inside his chest. His hand sinks, the pencil slipping from his fingers. It’s your cue to keep going, so you toy with the hem of his pajama pants. When you let your hand slip beneath the elastic, you’re excited to find him half-hard, curved against the left side of his pelvis.

He’d been struggling with intimacy as of late – his age, all the hard work and general worries catching up with him, a sort of vicious cycle that led to some changes in your shared bedroom. He takes care of you in other ways, very generously, but tonight, for once, he seems truly relaxed, and you feel him slowly harden against your palm.

“Do you feel good?” you whisper. “Should I keep going?”

“Mhm.”

You stamp wet kisses down his neck, sucking on the spot that always makes him shudder. You continue to slowly stroke him, a leisurely pace, until he’s fully hard and leaking onto your fingers.

“I thought you are tired,” he murmurs.

You smile. “I am, but I just miss you so much.”

“I’m right here, la mia rosa. Every night.”

More kisses. You softly suck on the spot below his jaw, and his hips buck up into your touch. “You know what I mean, Papa.”

Primo draws a sharp breath, the arm he had wrapped around you slowly uncurling as he throws the book across the bed. His hand moves to your ass, a tight squeeze and he urges you to move closer. You crawl on top of him, hot, liquid excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of finally having him inside of you again.

With one hand, you prop yourself up on his chest while you move your sleeping shorts out of the way with the other. You settle on his cock, rubbing your wet folds over his length and slicking it with your arousal. You grind on him a few times and you both gasp at the feeling. His hands fly to your hips, sharp fingernails digging deeper into your flesh when you finally place him at your entrance. He slips inside, the stretch immensely rewarding after going without it for so long, and despite the sleepiness still clinging to you, you try your best to move on him. Limited energy has you resting your upper body on his, chest against chest, only separated by your shirt. You lean in for a kiss as you slowly roll your hips. The pace you’re setting with your mouth as well as your body is slow, almost sluggish, but even so you can feel the ripples of pleasure all over your body.

“Amore?” Primo whispers against your lips and you hum into his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

And then he’s suddenly thrusting up into you. You moan against his tongue and he does it again, chuckling as you keen and cling to the headboard. A shudder tears through your whole body and your mouth slips from his, your face slotting against his neck instead when he gives another thrust.

Primo wraps his arms around you in a hug. “You’re tired, let me do the rest.”

You want to protest, remind him of his back issues and the pain he’d felt in his hip joint all week, but he’s already rolling you over. He knows you wouldn’t have been able to cum from your slow movements alone and he also knows you wouldn’t have minded, but he always tells you that making you cum is the highest form of worship for him. And Primo loves to worship.

As soon as he’s on top of you he shifts into position, propped up on his elbows on either side of you pushing back into your dripping entrance very slowly. You hold him steady, arms wrapped around his shoulder to try and keep him for overexerting himself. His rhythm isn’t much faster than yours, but his movements are more deliberate – precise thrusts hitting you exactly where you need him. Already you clench around him, moaning as more pleasure pools into your lower belly. 

Primo is breathing heavily and the frequency of his pants tells you he’s close.

“Touch yourself for your Papa, amore,” he whispers. 

You move your hands between your bodies and start to rub your clit. It doesn’t take much until you completely let go. You come almost simultaneously, moaning into each others skin as your bodies tremble with pleasure. You can feel his hot seed dripping out of you when he shifts, a sharp hiss as you eventually untangle your limbs.

Primo slowly, carefully, rolls off of you, sinking back into his pillow with a low, pained hmpf. You lean over and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but he’s already waving his hand to stop you, a delighted sigh leaving his lips as his body relaxes. You snuggle back into him, kissing the hot, sweaty skin on his cheek. This has exhausted him but the blissful expression on his usually so grim face tells you he won’t regret it no matter how much his joints are going to hurt tomorrow. 

“I love you, la mia rosa,” he mumbles into your hair. “Thank you for reminding your Papa that you still desire him so.”

“Hm, I love you, too,” you mumble, already drifting off.

The last thing you hear is his chuckle and the click of the switch as he turns off the light.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Secondo

content: biting, praise, v fingering, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones if you squint

The smell of smoke, sweat and liquor still lingers in your nose, now accompanied by the sweet and woody scent of Secondo’s sandalwood shower gel. The club had been packed, despite it’s exclusivity, and after a night of dancing and being pushed around by other bodies, you’re ready to fall asleep with his heavy arms draped around you. After all of the noise and the heavy, blasting music, you welcome the soft quiet of his bedroom, the dull buzzing of his toothbrush and your own even breathing the only sounds in your ears.

When Secondo exits the bathroom, the open door casts a narrow ray of fluorescent light onto your half-sleeping form. He quickly flips the switch and closes the door as quietly as he can. In the near-dark, he observes the silhouette of your body, all the curves and lines and edges he’s grown to love so much. You haven’t been sleeping in this bed for very long – it’s only been a few weeks since he decided he won’t let you leave again. Now, as he sheds his bathrobe and crawls under the silky sheets to join you, he thinks that it was probably the best decision of his life.

You can feel his naked body settling against your back, the warmth of his soft skin drawing a sigh from your lips. His strong arm wraps around you, pushing under your armpit to press flat against your front, pulling you even closer. As his hand moves to gently cup your breast, you can feel a tired exhale against your neck.

“As much as I love going out with you,” he murmurs. “This is my favorite.”

His lips softly press to the velvet skin below your ear. A few slow but needy kisses leave a wet trail all over your neck, his hand squeezing your breast in tandem with each one.

“You looked so beautiful tonight, amore.” Another kiss, this time to the back of your neck, and a shiver rolls down your spine. “Everyone in the club envied me.”

You chuckle softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him more space. “I’m pretty sure they were staring at you, my love.”

“Ah, che sciocchezza!” His lips attach to your skin, sucking gently at first, then with more force. You indulge him, the stinging sensation barely registering with your exhaustion as he bites into your flesh. He keeps busy there until you whimper at the burning sensation.

But Secondo knows he is right and it’s the reason why you have this big purple bruise blossoming on your neck right now. He is nothing but attentive, observant, and it gives him great confidence to watch other people admire you, then flinch away when they notice that you’re with him. He loves to subtly show you off – until someone actually tries to chat you up like today. It’s always the same, a sudden surge of need to show everyone that you’re his and he’s all over you, the public setting quickly forgotten. Secondo almost fucked you right there on the dance floor, not unprecedented, but after someone repeatedly rammed their elbow into his side he decided that it was too busy tonight.

But it’s okay because by now the high wore off, leaving him only mildly horny and mostly sleepy just like you. He thinks he wants to be gentle now, slowly fuck you both to sleep.

His lips come off your neck with a wet pop. He pushes his other arm underneath you, fingers searching the heat between your legs, but when he lets his hand slide down your middle, he’s met with the fabric of your panties.

“Ah.” He tsks softly into your ear, pulling them down slightly. “Since when do we wear clothes to bed, eh?”

You groan tiredly but don’t object, lifting your leg to help him remove the piece of fabric. Soft fingers slide between your legs now, pressing against your mound. He’s tentative, sensual, wet lips running over your neck and up to your ear.

“Will you let me have you, amore?” he whispers. “You know your Papa wanted you all night.”

You wake up your voice with a soft hum. “Yes, Papa.”

“You’re so good for me, always so good.”

More kisses, this time to the shell of your ear, your earlobe, your cheek. You smell his minty toothpaste and turn your head for a proper kiss. His free hand moves to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing into your neck to adjust the angle. The kiss is languid just like his fingers working on your clit now. A soft whine escapes you and his tongue sweeps inside to meet yours in a gentle greeting. Your mind gets hazy with his taste, the soft ripples of pleasure in your core, his now hard cock pressing into your back. You want him, need him, and so you wriggle, pushing your ass into his groin. He accommodates you by sliding two fingers into your wet entrance, increasing the pressure.

“Secondo, please,” you whimper.

“Ah.” He stops altogether, pulling back to look at you with intense mismatched eyes. “Being tired is no excuse for misbehaving.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. Please.”

“Mhm.” His movements resume. “Brava ragazza. So tired and still you beg for your Papa’s cock.”

Your head falls back into the pillows as Secondo shifts, removing his hands to adjust your hips, slotting them together. His cock slips between your legs then and you moan softly when you feel it slide right against your folds. He slowly pushes in, using his free hand on your belly to keep you pressed tightly to his chest, the other one lifting your leg up just enough so he can move inside of you. The stretch is beautifully slow, his mouth back on your ear now, and you reach over to scratch the back of his neck.

He hums at your loving caress, a low rumble that gives you butterflies, and then he pulls back, pushing back in deeper. You close your eyes and revel in the gentle rhythm he sets. For a while, all you hear are your soft gasps, his low moans right by your ear and the sound of his skin meeting yours. Your orgasm builds slowly but you can both feel it approaching, Secondo spreading out his fingers on your abdomen until he can reach your clit again. He speeds up just slightly, squelching noises filling your ears whenever his cock slides in to hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. His own breaths are ragged now but he’s holding back until he gets you there first, always.

“Come for your Papa,” he whispers against your ear with surprising softness. “Be good for me and come on Papa’s cock.”

You do, clenching around him as his words send you over the edge with a voiceless cry. He joins you, growling, hips stuttering into yours a few more times as he draws out both of your highs. Your exhausted body goes limp, only shuddering again when he eventually pulls out. 

A soft exhale as he wraps you up in his arms, his sweaty chest warm against your back. You vaguely feel his thumb caressing your arm, the gentle pattern lulling you to sleep. Neither of you is going to move again before the sun rises and the birdsong inevitably wakes you.

“Sleep well, amore,” Secondo whispers, kissing the purple bruise on your neck one more time.

You sigh deeply, weaving your fingers through his, and slowly drift off.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Terzo

content: cunnilingus, v fingering, mentions of mental health issues

A tickle at your neck. You stir and scrunch up your face, shifting onto your side to get away. It’s adorable, Terzo thinks, so he does it again, a featherlight kiss just below your ear. You twitch slightly once more, the duvet slipping from your shoulder and revealing your bare upper body to him. Half-hovering above you, it’s easy to press yet another kiss to your neck and watch your irritated pout, eyebrows pulled tightly together. Your hand flexes then, and he’s almost sure you’re going to swat him away like a fly but your fingers uncurl after a second, smoothing out on the mattress.

Waking up with you in his bed makes him unnecessarily giddy, weightless in a way he hasn’t felt in years. And after looking at your peaceful form for a moment longer he decides that he needs your attention more than you need your sleep. So the next kiss is harder. He finds an almost faded hickey right below your jaw, licking over the skin he traps between his lips and sucking with more fervour.

You give a soft groan that vibrates against his mouth. “Terzo, ’m still sleeping.”

He breaks away with a loud smacking sound, then boops your shoulder with his nose. “No, you’re not.”

“But I’m still tired,” you whine, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

“Aww,” he cooes. “Too tired for your Papa?”

You hum sleepily, your brain not yet fully awake. Terzo won’t let you off the hook. He wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you into his warm body. Looking down with your blurry gaze, you notice a tendon in his arm twitching as he slots his pelvis against yours. You can feel him rock hard against your ass now, poking into the supple flesh of your butt cheek. So this is why he woke you up early on a Sunday morning and not to get you croissants and coffee.

“I am shocked,” he says. “Offended. Mortally wounded.”

“Mhm, Terzo…” 

“You know, you’ve been wriggling against me in your sleep,” he interrupts your complaint. “I bet I’d find you already wet for me, dolce. Tell me, did you dream about your Papa?”

Shifting your legs, you realise that he’s right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d really been dreaming about him just before he woke you. For the past month, he’s been occupying your every thought, every fading dream, every waking moment. What you thought would be a one time thing turned into a two and three and many more times thing, late night McDonald’s runs, hour-long phone conversations when he can’t sleep after his anxiety attacks, countless lunch dates just to have one extra daily hour in each other’s company… and now actually sleeping together, staying the night. This is uncharted territory but as your mind slowly regains its grasp on reality, you’re more than ready to explore what it means.

“I must have,” you admit. “I often do.”

“Oh, really?” His lips trail from your shoulder back to your neck, his voice a low whisper against your ear. “Well, I dream about you too, my little dormiglione, every night.”

You feel your circulation coming to live, heat rushing into your cheeks and between your legs. “Really?”

“Mhm. Do you want to know what my favorite dream is?”

You fight the urge to rub your crusty eyes. “Yes.”

His grasp on you loosens and he turns you onto your back, gently cradling your face. You don’t feel self-conscious about your sleepy, unkempt state for more than a second because there is nothing but pure affection in his mismatched gaze.

“I will show you, amore,” he promises. “A little demonstration is just what we need to wake you up, sì?”

His words register only after he’s kissing down your neck. With an insistent mouth, he latches onto your breast, sighing when he feels the soft flesh against his face. You bury your fingers in his raven hair, gently scratching his scalp, and he moans lowly against your skin. The vibration has you arching into his touch and his eyes snap up at you. They never leave yours as he scoots further down the bed, leaving a wet trail of kisses all over your belly.

Terzo settles between your legs, spreading them just enough to nuzzle one of your inner thighs. Unshaved, his cheeks feel scratchy against your skin and he rubs them against you a few more times with an almost boyish smile. He’s beautiful, even more so in his unkempt state, stubbly jaw, messy hair, eyes still a little puffy. For once he is not tense, not on guard, and you can’t help but reach out and brush a stray piece of hair out of his face. You look at each other in shared vulnerability and for a moment, he leans into your touch, a tender, loving expression softening his features. But then his eyes glint with mischief as he grins and stuffs his face right into your pussy. 

You keen, arching your back. His nose is pressed against your clit, tongue pushing into your entrance, and your hips buck involuntarily. You can’t help but moan – loudly, desperately – and he pulls away with a chuckle.

“Ahhh, there you are. Good morning, sunshine. Not so tired anymore now, eh?” All you can do is whimper at the loss of his touch and his lips curl into a satisfied grin. “Per favore, will you let your Papa have his breakfast now? You know I have a sweet tooth.”

You nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip in anticipation. His face is glistening with your arousal and his eyes narrow just slightly.

“Words, dolce.”

“Yes,” you croak, throat still scratchy. “Please, Papa.”

He chuckles again, moving his hands up your thighs to open them wider before he brings one to your abdomen, the other slowly spreading your folds for him. “So wet, dolce. Your dreams must be even more exciting than mine.”

Words have long since escaped you. Just watching him so readily offer you pleasure is enough to make you light-headed. He licks a broad stripe up from your entrance to your clit where he stays, sucking gingerly at first before he hungrily starts to devour you.

Your eyes flutter close again but not from sleepiness this time.

“Eyes on me,” he demands immediately. “We don’t want you falling back asleep, yes?”

There is no danger of that, your body is burning, muscles clenching with the little energy you have, but you still follow his order. His eyes are on yours as he breaks away, creating space to push one and then two fingers into your waiting hole. You tighten around him with a moan, your whole lower body pulsating with need. A wicked grin and he rubs his fingers against your inner wall, looking for the spot that makes your toes curls. By now, he’s practiced, so in tune with your body that the firm, constant pressure brings you close very fast. When he sees your shudder, his mouth is back on your clit, sucking, licking, humming until you clench around his digits, hips bucking into his face as you ride out your climax. 

You only notice how tightly you’ve been gripping the sheets when Terzo crawls back up to you, gently taking your hand in his. He kisses each of your aching knuckles before he uses your hand as an extension to his, cleaning up his messy face and sucking your fingers into his mouth with such tender care that it makes you smile, your heart almost bursting with love for him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

“Terzo, I haven’t brushed my–”

His mouth collides with yours, tongue dipping into your mouth hungrily. You taste yourself on him but there is barely any time to take it in, your brain still hazy and clouded from your high. When he breaks away, he gives you a pointed look. “Do I look like I care?”

You softly shake your head and wrap your arms around his back, keeping him close. Fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, your breathing slowly evens.

“I love waking up with you,” you mumble with a smile. “Not just because of this. If you let me, I want you to be the first thing I see every day for the rest of my life.”

“If I let you?” His eyes soften and he gives an almost pained smile, struggling to accept the truth behind your words. But then he huffs out an exhale, pushing his hip back against you. “Amore, do you honestly think I will ever allow you to leave this bed again?”

With his painfully hard and leaking cock pressed against your thigh, the answer to his question is quite clear. You mentally say goodbye to breakfast. There are far more inviting things to sustain you than food.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Copia

content: soft!dom copia just bc I can, praise kink, thigh riding, v fingering, gloves

A murmur right by your ear. “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” A short pause. “Chianti.”

You’re about to fall asleep on Copia’s tiny bed, dim candlelight and his warmth surrounding you. The Silence of the Lambs is running in the background on a grainy VHS tape, Copia mumbling most of the dialogue to himself, practically lulling you to sleep. You’re half on top of him, legs intertwined, a mess of tangled red limbs in matching sweatpants. He knows you aren’t paying any attention to the movie with the way your nose evenly exhales against his windpipe, but after the long day you had that’s no surprise.

His arms automatically close around you, squeezing your tired body closer to his. The shift pushes his knee further between your legs and you feel a slight pressure against your clit. Copia continues to mumble but your focus shifts to the burning sensation in your core. His thigh is firm against your pussy and you tentatively move your hips a little. It’s innocent enough at first, a wriggle to get more comfortable. Copia presses a kiss to your hair, a searching hand finding your waist for a comforting squeeze.

It only serves to make you more restless. You roll your hips, desperate for more friction. He catches on by the third time you do it, the hand on your side sliding down, fingers spreading over your hip as he pulls you in closer. You continue to grind on his thigh, slow but steady, soft moans tumbling from your lips. After a few seconds he starts to massage you through the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling you forward so you slide over his leg even harder. You keen and grab at his t-shirt right above his chest, scrunching up the fabric. The pressure feels too good, shivers running down your spine and into your core.

“So needy,” Copia whispers on his next exhale, tickling the skin just below your ear. “Your Papa loves it when you use him to get off, tesoro. When you make a mess all over his thigh.”

You whimper again, louder, higher, too exhausted to move as fast as you’d need to find some actual relief. His hand slides under the elastic of your pants, warm black leather against soft, delicate skin, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.

“Do you want me to help you, topolina?” he asks, voice low and deep.

“Mhm.”

“You have to ask, my baby,” he reminds you. “I want to hear it.”

“Please, Papa, help me.”

“Tell me what you need from me.”

“I n-need your fingers, Papa. Please.”

Soft lips brush your temple. “Hm, so good for me. But you sound tired, amore, are you sure you can take it?”

Your voice comes out in a strangled whine. “Yes, Papa. Please.”

He stops your movements, and you wail in disappointment as he pulls his leg away from you, a dark red patch staining the red cotton. But his hands quickly find your hip again, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, amore,” he says, pushing the hem down to your knees. “Your Papa is going to take care of you.”

His fingertips dance up your thigh and move straight between your legs, probing at your entrance. Rubbing along your folds, he spreads out your arousal all over the black leather. Copia hums when he feels how ready you are for him, pushing two fingers inside of you with ease. You moan at the stretch, clenching around his digits as he curls them inside of you. 

“Hm, you like that, amore?”

You hum, pressing your hot forehead against his neck. He slowly starts to move, an almost languid pace but his thrusts are deliberate, hitting you right every time. Rippling waves of pleasure run all over your body and leave a trail of goosebumps. You’re getting close, shifting, wriggling. The wet noises of his hand moving against you drown out the sounds of the movie. With your last remaining effort, you move your hips, joining his rhythm.

Copia hums in approval. “Hmm, yes, use my hand, make yourself come, topolina.”

You cry out as you clench tightly around his fingers, the sound muffled by his sweaty skin against your lips. He can feel you shuddering against him, and you slowly turn into a panting, whimpering mess in his arms. With a few last curls of his fingers, he carries you through your orgasm, smiling at every little tremor he can coax out of you.

“Hmmm, so good for your Papa.” More wet kisses to your face. “You did so well, amore.”

You come to, smiling softly at his praise as the room around you becomes clearer. You notice the lights of the tv flickering off the walls. Buffalo Bill probably just murdered someone, but Copia must have turned down the sound because all you can hear is his slightly increased heartbeat when you settle on his chest. He pulls up your sweatpants and continues to hold you against him, kissing your hair so softly you can barely even feel it. Your body starts to feel heavier, drowsiness taking over now that you’re sated. You close your eyes and let the lingering feeling of bliss carry you into a peaceful slumber.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

if anyone skipped over primo I am going to find you and haunt you forever.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Any sort of interaction or feedback is as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Geocaching fic idea (dp x dc)

Ok so, in this Tucker gets into geocaching stuff. He's got his trusty PDA and he's on forums doing different geocaching with some of them being more elaborate. Then he comes across this old thread of riddle and puzzle-filled geocaching which seems really cool, but the problem is it looks like the thing has been shot down. Which would suck, except Tucker digs into it a bit more (so what if he tracks the IP dress and looks into the original poster's file) and finds a brand new one.

Of course, Tucker is super hyped and decide to do it. The puzzle seem really fun and even if there's no prize to find in the end, it looks like a good time. So he cracks the first puzzle and gets to the first location.

He gets there and finds that he's not alone! There's a bunch of costumed people doing the geocache thing too! They seem to be really into method acting and are all like ‘our associate has been kidnapped and these clues were left by a super villain to find him'. Tuck has done LARPing before and he can roll with it, in fact he thinks it's pretty neat. But then they try and tell him to go home.

Tuck doesn't want to ruin their vibe but this is really dope so he decides to prove he's not amateur by solving the second riddle. The people look like they respect him a bit more, but are still hesitating. Tuck figures it's cause they don't want him to ruin the LARPing part so since they're all acting as superheroes he decides to tell them he's himself a hero but he's in civies right now (which is even sorta true with Team Phantom and all!)

So they get through the clues and Tucker can't remember last time he had this much fun. The guys are such good actors, Tuck can't help but think they have to be some kind of famous, so he plans to ask for an autograph at the end of the geocaching thing. After a bit, they eventually manage to find the 'kidnapped victim' (there's even a vat of fake acid and yet another fantastic actor playing a flamboyant villain) and save the day. Tuker is so so glad they let him join in because that was epic, he does have to say goodbye though he says they should do this again sometime.

As for the bats, they just met a very competent new hero on the scene who just handed them his civilian identity in order to help save one of their own. They are very grateful (and only a tiny bit suspicious as is par for the course with the bats) and they want to offer any help they can or at least exchange contact information which they didn't manage to get since the guy left so fast. So, they look him up.

[meruz]

hi meruz please tell me all your thoughts on outer wilds I am absolutely Living rn

HI oh my god i have so many thoughts. I think I'm gonna keep posting fanart so this definitely isnt gonna be my last word on the matter but wow what a game! um... idk if I wanna just type forever but I can give you at least a few key thoughts I had...

It took me a second to get into! I had been waiting for the switch port so I was really excited starting out but there were a couple early play sessions months apart where I was struggling with the controls and overwhelmed with the openness...I have a hard time with a lot of open worlds games because I just..dont have a lot of free time LOL. But I was complaining abt this to my brother and he was also having a hard time rly digging into the game so when he flew over to visit me a couple weeks ago I was like ok lets do this together (incentivizing gaming by making it social/co-operative). And we had a blast!!! it rly is the type of game you can play as co-op just by having someone else on the couch or on stream doin the thinking alongside you or bouncing theories off of. I do think he's a much better puzzle solver than me though lol (he works in research, so he's got that researcher brain), he made a lot of the leaps of logic way early while I was still turning things over in my head lmao.... AND he's better with the controls because he plays a lot of flight sims?! i think he got annoyed watching me bumble around anytime i had the controller. my sole contribution was doing the stealthy parts in the dlc because im stupid and consequentially lack fear.

I kind of grew up playing majoras mask and windwaker like that was the era of zelda games I was rly activated and engaged for as a kid and I didn't realize how much I was missing and craving that type of experience again LOL. I think especially with how I personally felt that tears of the kingdom was narratively and structurally a step down from botw... idk... i mean you can tell from interviews abt Outer Wilds that the devs clearly have a lot of affection for and thoughts abt the Zelda series as well and I think Outer Wilds was like such a good encapsulation of everything I loved abt those games and also everything I wish they would do lol!! IT ALSO kind of solved a lot of my pain points with open world games and did it in a way that was so elegant... like I think i initially recoiled at the openness but then when i started exploring and realized the scope and level of detail it rly clicked into place.. im just in awe.

umm i love every hearthian they were all so charming. it rly did feel like an older school of nintendo rpg where every npc has so much personality lol. i loved that every alien race in the game was some weird animal like the designs for all of them were rly good. i love that it was a "worn" universe and that everything looked old or used. I love astronomy and space and space concepts but I don't really like really lofty and impersonal/minimalist scifi so i feel like this was a great and accessible art direction for me personally. i especially thought the backpacking/outerdoorsy aesthetic was really inspired! I think "exploration" sometimes exists on a spectrum where one end of it can be really colonialist/militaristic LOL... UM which im not like. fully against i think it can be an interesting idea to dissect? but i feel like we see it a lot and it was neat to see this which felt like the complete opposite end of that spectrum. weirdly enough playing Outer Wilds made me immediately go and finally finish Firewatch right after but I felt a little spoiled I was like ehh..that was good but it wasn't Outer Wilds LOL.

i think a lot of the themes reminded me of lord of the rings/tolkien lore LOL IDK. I GUESS THIS IS LIKE BIG SPOILERS SO if you havent played dont read but like. the entire concept of being born at the end of a great and enormous world/age with a rich history and you only getting to see the end of it, living in the shadow of great civilization...keeping your humble home in your heart idk. but then also the new world being a song ... I'm a sucker. I love it.

yeah sorry only compliments. anyways yeah i want to do more fanart... soon!! hopefully!

[lisbeth-kk]

Serenity After the Turmoil

TW: domestic violence, nightmares. (not graphic)

Sherlock fandom

The nightmares have been constant companions from early childhood. Back then it had mostly to do with monsters under the bed, which later was traded for more violent ones. It didn’t help matters that my parents quarrelled loudly either. I still remember the first time I heard my father slap my mother. It made me nauseous, scared and angry. I wanted to get out of bed to make him stop, but I was only ten and so much smaller than him.

At uni, I got a respite from the nightmares. The most violent my dreams got, was reliving rugby matches. 

In Afghanistan, I didn’t dream at all. At least I never remembered anything when I woke. Too tired and exhausted from stitching up patients and keeping my body fit with a strict exercise regime.

It was when I got back to London that my real nightmares began. They were mostly related to the war, but particularly nasty episodes from my parents’ fighting interfered occasionally. 

Waking up from these dreams, did nothing to ease my agony. I had thought that surrounding myself with bright coloured pictures and photos would be a good idea. To make my brain see sense. To realise where I was. To calm me. I was an idiot.

***

The first time I had a nightmare at Baker Street, I apparently cried out loud, because Sherlock was kneeling beside my bed when I opened my eyes.

“You’re safe, John. Home. At Baker Street,” he said quietly.

His voice instantly calmed me before my self-conscious made itself heard. I blushed, tried to assure him I was fine. That he didn’t have to check on me.

“Alright,” he said and squeezed my shoulder before he went downstairs.

Moments later he started to play his violin even if it was 2 am. 

“Thank you,” I whispered as tears run down my cheeks.

***

The next time it happened, my sub-consciousness must’ve been at play, because I only whimpered slightly when I woke. No sound was heard from downstairs.

Normally, it took me forever to calm down, and I didn’t want to wake Sherlock by descending to the kitchen to make tea at this hour. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. It was held in muted colours, which I realised had a much more soothing effect than my brightly coloured bedsit.

I didn’t know if it was Mrs. Hudson who’d been in charge of choosing everything, but I thought it might be. My room was quite similar to the rest of the flat when it came to colours and furniture. The only splash of colour was the smiley face in the living room.

To my surprise I heard Sherlock start to play downstairs. Had he heard me, or was he unable to sleep himself? He had warned me that he played the violin at odd hours. I lay still for a while and listened to him play. They were all soothing melodies, nothing harsh like the things he used to play whenever Mycroft visited, or he was unable to solve a puzzle.

I debated with myself. Should I go down there to keep him company? To tell him how soothing it was to hear him play like this. How thankful I was for everything. How safe I felt, despite the toxic environment he created with some of his experiments, not to mention the body parts I found all over the place. Would he appreciate that, or just scoff at me and call me an idiot?

“Only one way to find out, Watson. Into battle,” I told myself and went downstairs.

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

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[lutiaslayton]

Hey everyone! Just thought I'd make a quick post to let you know that...

The complete, definite, will-not-be-edited-again-in-the-future, FINAL translation of London Holiday, is finally here for your enjoyment!

AND it comes this time with an in-character fan-translation that DOESN'T read like Google Translate!

For those who didn't know, Professor Layton and the London Holiday is an official prologue to Diabolical Box; it's a short slice-of-life story in which Luke and Layton are just having some good time solving puzzles, and at the end, they receive the letter from Schrader which starts the events of DB. This game is not really lost content per se, but it's still part of the more obscure Layton media, since we non-Japanese fans have no legal way of playing it ourselves unless we buy the Japanese version of DB.

This isn't really some breaking news or anything, but I still thought it was worth warning you that this is it -- if you wanted a fancy in-character translation, you finally have it!

I will make a small shoutout to @call-me-rucy who helped every now and then with the more accurate translation when I had doubts on how a few idioms here and there were meant to be interpreted. Thanks again for your help, and sorry for using you like this xD I do wish I could send you DMs for reasons other than just asking for your Japanese knowledge hahaha

---

When I say that this won't be edited again, I mean that the only way this web page will ever be further edited in the future is if someone else shows up at some point and asks me to change something. Perhaps I took too many liberties in the fancy fan-translation compared to the original text in one or two specific occurrences, or perhaps someone will want to translate this transcript into another language that isn't English, in which case I would absolutely accept to add it! (and you would be credited for that additional translation, obviously)

---

I heavily suggest you take a look at it if you haven't already, because it provides quite a bit of lore and funny/wholesome moments! We notably get the full story of how Schrader heard about, and then tried to acquire the Elysian box (...story which contradicts the fact that he would already own it in Eternal Diva, by the way), but it's not the only fun lore crumbs this prologue to DB gives us :)

Also, for the fans of the puzzle theory -- I suggest you take a look in particular at what Luke says when he solved puzzle 09. It sure is intriguing that he would mention walking from island to island on foot as if he were... Physically doing it?? Or at least had the impression that he could experience it somehow???

Heh, puzzles and hint coins have mind powers anyway, for all we know perhaps some of them can trap you inside your own mind for a bit while you're solving them. Deliciously horrifying, so much potential for fanfics/comics and lore analysis. So shameful that nobody would have thought of taking advantage of this by throwing puzzles at someone with the specific intent of slowing them down by trapping them in a trance for a bit. smh, Level 5. smh.

[therowdymagpie]

M6 vs. Escape Room

A/N: Don't ask me where this came from, I was just in the mood to write sth silly and fun XD.

Asra:

They find some way to sneak Faust in so she can take part in the fun(and maybe slither behind certain objects for clues)

Is the type of person who will find creative ways to escape without them having anything to do with how you're actually supposed to solve things

Has very good intuition when it comes to where or what the next clue could be but he doesn't care much for the time limit

Finds the expression on your face every time you manage to figure out a clue on your own absolutely adorable, so much so that they're letting you make most of the progress wanting to see it again

Could make any themed room romantic somehow and just finds excuses to cling to you any chance he gets

*Holds your hand in the dark*

*Sidles up to you and cuddles during a particularly rough puzzle*

*Whispers a hint in your ear*

Even in scary escape rooms, their chill attitude is enough to make you feel infinetely more relaxed

Very likely to steal some decor from the room to keep as a souvenir or because they found it interesting

Julian:

Surprisingly not as good at this as you'd expect

Now, has he had close calls and predicaments he's managed to find unique and out-of-the-box ways of escaping from? Yes, half his stories are like that

Has he been in a situation where he is trapped in a room and has to follow a hyperspecific line of instructions to escape? No, not really

Julian is more the kind of person that can get himself out of situations easier by talking his way out of things and being generally charming or unbelievable things just transpire around him and he takes advantage of them to somehow escape

Also the problem he faces in these types of places is: 1.He has too many ideas and 2.He thinks every item is suspicious

It also doesn't help him focus that you two are in close quarters for an extended period of time...

He is very capable with ciphers and word puzzles though

Pulls the "leave me behind" move at least once during changing rooms where an actor is chasing you for the dramatic effect: "Go without me my love! I will stall them as you escape!",

"...Julian I literally just unlocked the door, come in already."

Definetely gets jumpscared by the actors every.single.time but also applauds them for the great performance afterwards

Nadia:

Goes from extremely curious to immediately intrigued as soon as the door closes

This really appeals to Nadia's tinkering and problem solving skills and you can tell

There's a good chance that she's managed to solve 75% of the room in the first 15 minutes you are there but will she actually tell you? Of course not

She is just going to hold back a little bit so that the two of you can solve the riddles together and have fun

Unless any of her sisters are there with you....then it's personal and she finishes the room in 30 minutes tops

If there's a case that you two get stuck on trying to solve something, there's no way she'll ask for, much less actually look at the clues the people on the outside give you

The scary ones leave her with a startled "oh!" at best

(I mean she was engaged to Lucio, her married life was basically an escape room at one point)

Very much appreciates the follow up explainations of how everything in the rooms works and asks so many questions in awe, because she feels very inspired by some of the ideas and would like to implement them to her own projects

Muriel:

This man cannot understand the concept of an escape room

When you first come up and suggest it as a date idea he is genuinely baffled by it as you explain

So you're supposed to be stuck?

in a quite small room/s?

and try to figure your way out using stuff from around said room under a time limit?

"….......Why would you want to do that?"

To him this is basically what an anxiety attack looks like

He reluctantly agrees to try it after you say that it could be fun and that there won't be any other people but you two

Just please, DON'T get him into one of those horror themed ones, it won't end well for anyone involved

His height definetely gives you perspective on some clues though and he can be very perceptive when you get stuck on progressing through puzzles

Overall he doesn't do a lot because these types of spaces are pretty crampted

Isn't willing to do this again which is probably fair

Portia:

Say it with me now: PARTNERS.IN.CRIME.

Portia seems like the kind of person who'd really like escape rooms, the thrill of them is just very reminicent of exploring the abandoned wings and secret rooms in the Palace

So when you'd suggest one to her she'd be SO down for it

Loves any chance to spend time together but the feel of being in one of her mystery novels with you makes her especially giddy with excitement

Takes this as an opportunity to see how well you two work together and when you figure out stuff together is the best part for her

Cheek kisses or hugs every time you manage to progress further

She'd be very invested in the story attached to the room you chose

Honestly the employees are able to see how intrigued she is and how much fun she's having that they'll let you two go through everything regardless of time

She might have a slight weakness with not sassing the actors or taking them seriously enough but it's always in good fun and she always apologises

She'll certainly want to do this again

Lucio:

Let's be honest here, he's not the best person for this

The only reason he was so willing to go is because you mentioned it's timed, he's competitive and convinced you two can do it faster than anyone else

....Well. This is more complicated than he thought

He let's you handle the mental aspect of the game while he tackles the physical challenges

He opens doors for you right after you've unlocked them and carries the heavy stuff basically

Is the one guy from that video that gets jumpscared and instead of grabbing you and running away he grabs the actor

Most likely to break something thinking it leads to a secret room/ the exit

Don't worry he can pay for it later

You know this trick certain escape room places pull where they push back the clock a bit so you get to finish it time?

Yeah, they definetely do that to you and he is SO proud holding up the sign that says you escaped with exactly one minute left

[pinchofhoney]

the last goodbye, part two

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

« part one | part two

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 5.2k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), mention of smoking, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: All men do is messing with your head.

a/n: i’m incredibly proud of myself that the first part evoked such emotions in you. i was totally not expecting this, as i wrote it at a time when i wasn’t in a good place mentally, feeling terrible after losing my pet. if you feel disappointed by the lack of gripping action, i apologize (not really). i don't want to rush things, i want their emotions to sink into your soul✨

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @babypeapodd @domaniquessidehoe @one-sweet-gubler @danelhi @pedroholicx @rosaliedepp @phoenixinthewater @blu3flame @hummusxx @onceandfuturereader @marysucks-blog @sloanexx @nxt-zen @secretdazeobservation​ 

As you slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, your tired eyes flickered open, gradually adjusting to the blinding brightness of the white ceiling looming above you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to shake off the weariness that clung to your body like a heavy blanket. It was difficult to tell how many hours you had slept, but it certainly didn't feel like enough.

You shifted your weight and let out a groan as your muscles protested against the movement. The events of the past few days had been a whirlwind, leaving you drained and achy. It's funny how mental anguish can affect your body. With a sense of resignation, you rolled over onto your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your joints. Your hand fumbled around in the air until it found the offending alarm clock, blaring its obnoxious tune throughout the bedroom.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you pressed the button to silence the alarm. Despite your reluctance to start the day, you knew that you couldn't afford to linger in bed any longer. With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress and forced yourself to stand up. Another day, another- You wished you could say slay, but not today. Another set of challenges to face? More likely.

As you sluggishly made your way towards the bathroom, thoughts of Pedro crept back into your mind. It had only been two weeks since he broke up with you, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was still raw and fresh, and you struggled to make sense of it all.

Every moment you had shared with him played out in your mind like a movie, and you analyzed each one, searching for some clue, some sign of what went wrong. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces – there was no explanation, no clear reason why he had ended things so abruptly.

You had loved him with all your heart and trusted him like no one before, but in the end, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces, leaving you to pick up the fragments and try to put them back together. The moment Pedro said those fateful words, the trust you had built up in him crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. And now, you found yourself spiraling into an absurd mania, constantly questioning whether anyone in your life would leave you just like he did.

The fear of being abandoned consumed you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everyone you cared about was destined to disappear. It was a toxic mindset, but it was deeply ingrained in you since childhood and one that you couldn't seem to escape.

On the one hand, you wanted to reach out to your friends, to let out all the pain and heartbreak that you've been holding in, but at the same time, you didn't want to burden them with your problems or risk pushing them away, so instead, you buried your emotions deep inside, hiding behind a mask of indifference and detachment. It was easier that way, at least you tried to tricked yourself in believing it was. But the truth was, the pain was eating away at you from the inside out, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up that fake smile.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to the days when you were happy and carefree, but you knew that wasn't possible. All you could do was try to pick up the pieces and move forward, even though it felt like an impossible task.

Your days had become a blur of schoolwork and long shifts at the movie theater. It was a grind, but it kept you busy and distracted from the pain of your shattered heart. At least, that's what you thought, again.

Despite your best efforts to move on, your mind kept drifting back to Pedro. Every time you walked by the coffee shop where you used to have your morning cup of coffee with him, you couldn't help but look inside, hoping he would be there. You even went inside a few times, ordered a coffee, and sat down, pretending to read a book or browse your phone, all while stealing glances around the room. But he was never there, and you always left feeling disappointed and foolish.

Even going to the gym in the evenings, which used to be your solace, had become a source of anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there knew about your breakup with Pedro and was silently judging you. As you ran on the treadmill, you felt self-conscious and exposed, as if all your flaws and vulnerabilities were on display for everyone to see.

And yet, despite all of this, you still couldn't resist the urge to go to the places where you used to go with Pedro. You found yourself walking past his favorite pizza place, just to catch a whiff of the familiar scent of marinara sauce and melted cheese. You even drove by his street once, just to see if his car was parked outside his house. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn't help yourself. The pain of losing him was too great, and the thought of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.

Actually saying that you will never see him again was an overstatement. Despite the heartbreak he had caused you, he was the hottest topic in entire Hollywood and beyond. His star power had skyrocketed, and his charming looks and hoarse laughter made (not only) teenage girls swoon all over the world. His photos and videos seemed to be everywhere, constantly popping up on your Instagram and Twitter feeds, taunting you with reminders of what you had lost. He was a viral sensation, and it was impossible to escape the constant barrage of Pedro's updates – a stark reminder that he was out there living his life while you were struggling to move on.

You stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection with a heavy heart. Your once bright eyes were now surrounded by a rim of redness, and dark circles that looked like bruises appeared to have taken permanent residence beneath them. Your hair was a mess, its strands sticking out in every direction, as if it was trying to mimic the chaos you felt inside. Your skin was pale and lifeless, a far cry from its former glowing self. Just fourteen days ago, you were a different person, filled with happiness, with Pedro by your side. And now, everything was in shambles.

You shook off the memories and forced yourself to focus on the present, on getting dressed and making it to your classes on time. It was a challenge, but you tried to keep thoughts of Pedro at bay, knowing that dwelling on the past would only make the pain worse. You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles.

As you stepped out into the blinding glare of the sun, the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you. Cars honked, people chatted, and a cool breeze caressed your face, but everything seemed distant and unimportant. You repeated to yourself the mantra to take things one step at a time, hoping that each step would lead you closer to healing the wounds Pedro had done to you.

But little did you know, he was also battling his own demons, struggling to come to terms with his actions and the hurt he had caused you. It was a cruel irony that both of you were struggling in your own ways, and neither of you knew the full extent of the other's pain.

“Pedro?” the sound of his own name snapped him out of the recesses of his head and effectively brought him down to earth. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright lights shining in his direction. Looking around, he realized he was on the set of the advertisement he was working on.

The confused director approached him, placing his hands on his hips in a pretentious position. “What's going on, man?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “It's just a minute clip, all you have to say right now is to catch grandma, you have to think like grandma,” he threw his hands in the air in exasperation, then placed the fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Pedro tried to focus on the director's words, but his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He couldn't believe how he had treated you a day after your first anniversary, telling you that he suddenly stopped having feelings for you and breaking your heart. The day after the anniversary, which he didn't even show up for, because he didn't have the courage to do so. To look into your smiling eyes, having in the back of his mind what he had been planning for some time. The guilt was eating him alive, and he found himself replaying the scene of your breakup in his head over and over again.

He remembered very well how your face crumpled with sadness and confusion as he told you the news. How you asked him to reconsider, to give your relationship another chance. How you cried and asked him what you had done wrong. He didn't have the answers then, and he still didn't have them now.

Pedro's heart simply sank as he realized that he had made a mistake the very next day after the breakup. He had let go of someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin. And for what? Because he suddenly stopped feeling the way he used to? He couldn't even be sure if that was true. Perhaps it was just a minor crisis that he could have resolved if he had spoken to you honestly.

The director ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You know what, Pedro? Take a break. Get some fresh air and clear your head. We can't afford to waste the whole day on this stupid phone game ad. Let's reconvene in 20 minutes,” he barked, his irritation palpable. Without bothering to wait for Pedro's response, he stormed off, leaving Pedro.

His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the frustrated expressions of the crew members. They had all been waiting for him to get his lines right, but he had been too distracted to focus on the task at hand. He was wasting the time and resources of his colleagues and he felt ashamed because of that.

As the director snapped out orders to the rest of the team, Pedro swiped his hand over his tired face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his fingertips. He let out a deep sigh, feeling drained both physically and emotionally. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what could have been, of what he had lost because of his own recklessness. He needed some space to clear his head.

Without a word, he left the building and made his way out to the back of one of the buildings in Los Angeles. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the set. He let out a long breath, trying to calm himself.

It wasn't easy to pretend that everything was fine in front of everyone, because it wasn't. Every day it became harder and harder for Pedro to put on a brave face and act like he was okay. He dug out a pack of cigarettes from his blazer pocket and blindly stared into it. He quickly found the lighter in the other pocket and with his slightly shaking hand, he lit the cigarette. The familiar smell and taste of nicotine filled his senses, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. He leaned against the rough dirt wall of the building, the sound of the bustling city muffled in the distance. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him slightly, but he welcomed the pain, as it was a distraction from the pain in his heart.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, telling him that he had made a huge mistake by ending things with you. The breakup had hit him harder than he ever imagined it could. He missed you so much, and the regret ate away at him with each passing day. He took another long drag of the cigarette, the tip glowing red.

Despite the comfort that the cigarette provided, Pedro knew it was a bad habit. He had managed to quit a while ago, but the stress of recent events had caused him to slip back into it. He felt guilty for indulging in it again, but at the same time, he didn't care. All he wanted was to forget his troubles, even if it was just for a little while.

Every single day during those two weeks, Pedro's thoughts were consumed by the image of him standing in front of you, while cup your face with his hands and apologizing for everything. He imagined the words he would say to you, begging for your forgiveness and hoping that you would take him back. But as much as he longed to make things right, he was too much of a coward to actually face you. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment he had caused, so he actively avoided all the places where he knew he could potentially run into you. The mere thought of seeing you filled him with a mix of intense longing and paralyzing fear.

He held onto the belief that you wouldn't be able to forgive him and the thought of being rejected by you was too much to him. The fear of embarrassment kept him from reaching out and trying to make amends, even though he knew deep down that he wanted nothing more than to be back in your warm embrace. The possibility of facing your disappointment and disapproval was a daunting prospect, and so he chose to continue avoiding you, hoping that time would eventually make him forget about you.

The sound of a notification coming from his phone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes. He fished the device out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from his friend, Oscar. He took a drag on the cigarette he had been smoking and read the message.

I was thinking about this birthday party. Do you want me to cancel the invitation for Y/N? – The Grumpy Eagle, sent at 3:14pm.

Pedro had completely forgotten about Oscar's upcoming birthday celebration, which he and his wife Elvira hosted every year. It was a small party, but it had become an annual tradition among their circle of friends. He knew that both of you had been invited long before the two of you broke up, and it was pretty obvious anyway, since he was Oscar's best friend and you had quickly become a favorite of Oscar's wife and kids.

He took another drag on his cigarette, thinking on response. Pedro wasn't sure if you would show up, but he knew that you disliked disappointing people, and skipping out on someone's birthday party would undoubtedly lead to disappointment. Even if you didn't enjoy celebrating your own birthday, you understood that it meant more to others and the happy memories associated with it.

No need to cancel the invitation, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. See you on Tuesday – Sent at 3:17pm.

He took one last puff of the cigarette before flicking it away and making his way back to the set, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you.

You were in your rented apartment, standing in front of your small closet and talking to your best friend over Facetime. With your back to the screen, you felt on the verge of tears as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear to Oscar's party. The phone was propped up on your bedside table, and you turned to face Xavier's amused expression on the screen.

“I'm about to go crazy,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “I can't find anything to wear.”

Xavier chuckled and lay back on his own bed, still visible on the screen. “Relax, Y/N. We'll find something. Let me see what you've got.”

You knelt down at the table and held up a few dresses for him to see. Xavier made a face at each one, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally, he suggested a simple black dress that you had forgotten you owned.

“That's perfect,” he said, grinning at you. “You'll look amazing. Just throw on some heels and you're good to go.”

“And what are you going to wear?” you asked, taking the phone in both hands and moving it closer to your face.

Since you didn't want to go to the party alone, you decided to bring Xavier with you, even though he didn't know anyone in Pedro's inner circle, including Oscar and Elvira. The only connection Xavier had to Pedro was through you, as they had met a few times before.

He was shocked when he heard about your breakup with Pedro two weeks ago. He had always thought that you and Pedro were perfect for each other, and it came as a surprise when you told him that things had ended between you two. He remembered how happy you had seemed with Pedro, always talking about the little things he did that made you fall even more in love with him. It was hard to believe that it was all over now.

Xavier had been there for you through all the tears and heartbreak that came with the breakup. He was the only person you really talked to about what happened. He had listened to you vent about Pedro, and had even gone as far as to offer to confront him about the way he had hurt you, but you had refused, saying that it wouldn't change anything, and that you just needed time to heal.

Now, as he watched you on Facetime, he could see the sadness in your eyes. He knew that finding something to wear to this birthday party was the least of your worries.

“Oh, you know, my finest t-shirt and jeans,” he answered with a playfully tone. “Maybe I'll even splurge and wear my dress shoes instead of my sneakers.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Don't worry, I'll make sure to tuck my shirt in for the occasion.”

You laughed at Xavier's words, feeling relieved that he could make light of the situation. “Well, make sure you don't outshine me too much,” you teased. “I don't want to be upstaged by your dress shoes and tucked-in shirt.”

Xavier chuckled. “No worries, you'll be the star of the show,” he said reassuringly. “But seriously, don't stress about it. We'll have a good time no matter what.”

His words were comforting and a feeling of appreciation and thankfulness filled your heart. “Thanks, Xavier,” you said, smiling. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

Xavier grinned. “Of course, what are friends for?” he replied. “Besides, I would do anything to see Pedro's face when he sees you in that dress. He's going to regret ever letting you go.”

You laughed, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of Pedro's reaction. “I doubt he'll care,” you said, shrugging it off. “But it'll be nice to look good for myself, at least.”

Xavier shook his head. “Trust me, he'll care,” he said with a wink and then stood up from his bed, straightening his shirt. “Alright, I better get ready too. I need to iron my jeans and find my fanciest t-shirt,” he joked. “I'll pick you up at 7. See ya!” he said before ending the call, at which you smiled to yourself, feeling grateful for your friend's support.

As you and Xavier made your way to the door of Oscar's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on you. You clutched the gift tightly in your hand, hoping it will help you calm down. You turned to Xavier, about to voice your concerns about this evening, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, it's going to be fine,” Xavier said, sensing your unease. “We'll have a good time. And don't worry about Pedro, I'll not leave you alone even for a moment. When I go to the toilet, I'll drag you along with me,” he joked trying to boost your mood.

You let out a deep sigh. “I'm scared.”

Xavier smiled reassuringly. “I know, but we'll stick together and make the most of it,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And besides, you look amazing. Pedro's going to regret all of his life choices.”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, feeling a little less anxious. “Okay, let's do this.”

As you approached the door, your heart rate started to increase again. You could hear the sound of laughter and chatter from inside grew louder, intensifying your apprehension. But before you could even think about turning back to Xavier's car, Elvira opened the door and greeted you warmly. “Y/N!” she called out joyfully, pulling you into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Elvira's perfume and the comforting warmth of her hug helped ease your nerves a little bit.

“It's so good to see you,” Elvira continued. “Oscar will be so happy you came. You know damn well how much he liked you.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, while Elvira already shifted her gaze to the man standing next to you.

“And who's this handsome gentleman with you?” Elvira asked, pulling away from you and turning to Xavier.

Xavier extended his hand. “I'm Xavier. Y/N's best friend,” he introduced himself with a smile.

Elvira shook his hand. “I'm Elvira, Oscar's wife. Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.

You suddenly felt an odd need to explain why you brought a stranger to their house, even though you knew that Elvira was aware of the recent events.

“I didn't want to come alone, the last days were-” you started to explain, but Elvira quickly cut you off, sensing your discomfort.

“That's fine, Y/N. You don't need to explain yourself, we both know what happened,” Elvira said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to encourage you. “Come on in,” she added, motioning towards the open door and stepping aside to let you both enter the house.

As you walked past her, Elvira turned her gaze to Xavier and sent him a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness and understanding, and you knew that you were in good hands for the evening.

The birthday party was in full swing, with colorful decorations hanging from the ceiling and walls, and a large cake with lit candles in the center of the room. The scent of savory and sweet treats wafted through the air, making your mouth water.

Oscar was the center of attention, greeting his guests with a big smile and warm hugs. He was surrounded by his closest friends, chatting and laughing away, and occasionally stopping to pose for a picture with them.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in the midst of the older crowd, except for Oscar's children, who were running around and playing games. You had hoped to have a conversation with Pedro, but he avoided your gaze the entire time, which made you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

However, Xavier was by your side throughout the evening, keeping you company and making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories. You introduced him to some of the people at the party, and of course to Oscar, and he encouraged you to dance, which helped you loosen up and enjoy the party a little more.

As the night wore on, the guests started to leave one by one, and the house grew quieter. The children were already fast asleep, and the adults seemed to be in a mellower mood, with lighter snacks and drinks replacing the heavier ones from earlier in the evening.

You found yourself in the kitchen with Xavier, enjoying a lively conversation with Elvira and Oscar about the latest news in the city. Elvira was recounting her recent trip to Europe when Oscar suddenly interrupted her by reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring it into a set of glasses.

“Let's raise a toast to life, to good friends, and to family,” Oscar exclaimed, lifting his glass. You all joined in, clinking your glasses together, laughing and toasting to the good times. The mood had shifted from one of excitement to one of warmth and sentimentality.

As you took a sip of the wine, you noticed Pedro standing at the edge of the room, watching you with an intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt a strange mix of discomfort and confusion. You had wanted to talk to him earlier in the evening, but he had been avoiding you, so his sudden interest now was puzzling. Feeling the need for comfort and safety, you moved closer to Xavier, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. You didn't know if Pedro was still watching you, but you felt better in your friend’s presence.

To your surprise, Pedro suddenly approached the four of you, inserting himself into the conversation. He started to talk about a recent article he had read in the newspaper, bringing up a topic that interested everyone. Xavier and Elvira seemed to welcome his presence, and Oscar was glad to have his longtime friend join in. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still fixed on you, even as he talked with the others.

As the conversation continued, Oscar and Elvira decided to check in with the guests in the living room, leaving you, Xavier, and Pedro alone in the kitchen. The silence was palpable as you all stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. Pedro finally broke the silence, turning his attention to you.

“So, Y/N, I can see that you are having fun?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on you.

You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile and answering politely, “Yeah. I try to, at least.”

It was hard not to notice that Pedro wasn't completely sober – although he wasn't fully drunk either. He kept shooting unpleasant glances at Xavier every now and then and his eyes were colder than always.

Your friend seemed oblivious to Pedro's behavior, but you knew better. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and you started to feel anxious. Pedro's jealousy was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if he still had feelings for you, even though you weren’t a thing anymore.

Trying to diffuse the situation, you asked Pedro how his job was going, hoping to steer the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics. He answered curtly, barely giving you any information, and then turned his attention back to Xavier, sizing him up with a cold stare.

You felt your heart rate increase, sensing that things were about to get out of hand. You knew that you needed to do something, but you weren’t sure what. As you opened your mouth to speak, Pedro cut you off.

“Two weeks were enough for you to find a replacement, huh?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Pedro's words didn't make sense to you, and you glanced over at Xavier, who looked equally confused. Pedro scoffed and clarified, “I saw you two earlier. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N. And now here you are, pretending to be just friends.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. How dare he accuse you of something like that? The jealousy in Pedro's eyes was unmistakable, and it was clear that he didn't believe in your friendship with Xavier, even though he knew him.

Xavier stepped in, sensing the tension rising in the room, his voice calm but firm. “Pedro, let's take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. You’re tipsy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Pedro wasn't backing down, his eyes fixed on Xavier, even though he was actually speaking to you. “I don't trust him. And I don't trust you, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your heart sank in your chest. You couldn't believe what Pedro was saying. How could he accuse you of being untrustworthy when he was the one who had abandoned you without any explanation? Anger and sadness boiled inside you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts, and the tears started to gather in your eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You were the one who stood me out on the day of our anniversary. It was you who came to break up with me the next day without giving me any explanation. It was you-you…” the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face, mixing with the anger and frustration that you felt. You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “How dare you tell me that you don't trust me?” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Pedro's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, you thought that he might actually apologize for his absurd behavior, but then, his gaze hardened again, and he shook his head.

“I had my reasons,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And I don't need to justify them to anyone.”

You stared at him in silence, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. He's being unreasonable and irrational, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief and took a step back. “You know what?” you asked, staring into Pedro's eyes. “I will not talk to you. I'm not going to listen to you suddenly make me some kind of scolding because alcohol went to your head. You're a grown man, and you're acting like a kid,” you barked, your anger seeping through every syllable. You then turned your back on Pedro, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry again.

You left him, standing motionless in the kitchen with his eyes fixated on the door through in which you had just disappeared with Xavier. His heart was heavy with regret as he realized that he fucked up again. He knew that he had messed up, that he had let his jealousy and insecurities take control of his words and actions. He desperately wanted to talk to you on this party, to apologize for his behavior and make things right, but now it was too late for that. He had taken a few drinks to calm his nerves, hoping that it would help him find the courage to talk to you, but now he realized that it had only fueled his anger and made things worse. The sight of you laughing and chatting with Xavier had been the final blow, and now he was left alone with his regrets once again.

[raayllum]

Chessmaster Ezran

It's no secret by this point that Aaravos is a chess master. He has literal pawns, his game motif is consistent across seasons (though mostly carried by the Key of Aaravos in arc 1), is associated with black and white, "eight in a line" from the 6x08 poem could reference 8 across as that's the number of pawns/pieces in a line in chess, and he's been referred to as a chess player, literally:

After more than a millennium of careful planning, moving and manipulating generations of humans and elves like pieces on some cosmic chess board, the machinations of the Midnight Star known as Aaravos are finally coming to bear.

The symbolism behind chess itself also talks about a "cyclical nature," the "unavoidable consequences" of each movement, the relationship in chess "between will and fate, but likewise between liberty and knowledge" and ideas of foresight and knowledge. (Meta here.) These are all things, of course, that Arc 2 is increasingly interested in exploring, looking at the ways characters are trapped by circumstances and choices and also deconstructing the idea of having "no choice".

I don't think at this point we have to prove, then, that Aaravos is a chess master of sorts; this is just the text, particularly because moving pawns around isn't that dissimilar from moving puppets around.

What is far more questionable, then, is Who exactly is Aaravos playing chess against?

Now, there's a few answers that could be the case. As displayed above, Aaravos lost one match against the Archdragons and was subsequently imprisoned, but it seems like maybe he was totally aware they were in the game, per se ("he let his guard down" / "as the day you betrayed me"). And while Aaravos hates the archdragons accordingly ("I'm glad you took down that arrogant monster"), they're very clearly not who his endgame victory is against. If he'd wanted to just destroy only them, he probably could've done so a long time ago.

At the same time, I don't think we can directly say the Startouch elves themselves. While they're the people he seems angriest at ("and when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky"), and therefore probably the people he wants revenge against the most... It doesn't seem like the Stars have been aware of what's going on down here in Xadia in centuries, and therefore, haven't been 'responding' to any of Aaravos' moves since he was banished and left behind. I wouldn't that it couldn't be him and Leola in some kind of proxy war, but if First elves like Aaravos are at the top of the magical hierarchy, and magic-less humans are at the bottom, it makes sense for a human to ultimately upend said hierarchy (with or without magic), don't you think?

Additionally, none of this is to say being cognizant of the Game is required to be Aaravos' opponent, but that Aaravos needs an active and reoccurring adversary to respond to. The good news is that he has one.

Now let me explain.

Set Up

While Ezran may not seem like an obvious choice — he's not a mage, he's not even one of Aaravos' current pawns to reward a 180 turn around if they turned against him, nor has he directly foiled Aaravos' plans the way Rayla has (at least once) — I think that's precisely why he's the one who's potentially in this role, symbolically at least.

While other characters are tied to the game motif in being pieces (Avizandum, Harrow and Sarai's graves, Callum and Viren's intros, the wooden Rayla doll from 1x04 of all episodes), Ezran is tied to being a piece mover and recognizing that the game and puzzle exists, each time. One that he can solve; one that he can win.

Now, part of that is helped by Ezran inheriting Harrow's status of being a thematic opposite to Aaravos. Aaravos 'serves' in order to gain control and power, and Harrow tries to even out of the scale of his control and power by serving the people: a servant king. Where Aaravos doesn't seem to see anyone as a person, in line with the way he literally uses his pawns, encourages dark magic, and dismisses his enemies, Ezran sees everyone — including animals, elves, dragons, enemies, etc. — as people (re: his sadness in 3x09 as he has to fight and kill people he wanted to save, because they literally won't stop attacking and have been robbed of their own humanity wilfully).

Piled on top is Ezran's own dichotomy of being both a child and a king ("A child is freer than a king") that mirrors Aaravos deriding the group as "pathetic children" while also relying on Claudia (whose the same age) to free him, and that he's playing a game at all that likewise involves his key ("It's a toy, a piece from a children's game" / "The whining child king, in over his head, and he knows it").

And more than that, Ezran has his own game motif. So let's talk about it:

Hide and Seek (Truth telling and Game Motif)

What begins as a little boy's favourite game, in addition to heartbreakingly always reminding you of just how young Ezran is in canon, evolves into a hide and seek game of world altering proportions. Arc 2 is largely about searching for / the acquirement of fully actualized knowledge (befitting of a mystery, mind you) and subsequently, the game of hide and seek is on for that knowledge. They just have to beat Claudia to the finding, first of the map, and then of the prison.

Knowledge of where the prison is hidden that Ezran uniquely carries and uniquely puts him at risk for. This is, of course, a call back to Ezran being the one to uncover the initial mystery of the egg (similarly to how Callum uncovers the truth behind primal magic and the fates of Rayla's parents). He discovers the egg in the dungeons, he advocates for telling the truth and being open and honest, and he is the Truth Teller of the series in so many ways, even if that doesn't mean he's infallible.

I had a speech planned for today. It was about peace and love and hope. But I think I left something out. I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable. 

Ezran bears witness to the things that other people don't see, or the other things that people don't understand, as while usually we're let in on the loop ahead of time, Ezran's actions and discoveries — finding the egg, retrieving it, showing up the Bookery in the nick of time — are kept behind closed doors until the reveal. Much like Aaravos, I might add. Ezran wears the blind fold like is father did (screams in Celestial elves) properly, but can see clearly at the same time by extending it to all peoples simultaneously.

If the stars are evil because they are indifferent and potentially ignorant, if Aaravos is evil because he is aware of what's going on but unsympathetic, than Ezran is their true opposite in being 1) consistently and constantly thematically and literally aware of what's going on (i.e. his brother's sadness, Rayla's feelings upon her return, the feelings of dragons, Claudia's fight with Ibis) and 2) holding sympathy regardless (even for Aaravos).

If the truth is hidden, Ezran will find it. And that's exactly why he's uniquely fit to go up against Mr. I never lie in a thematic chess match across the whole series, so let's start unpacking it.

Kingship and Clarity (2x08, 2x09)

I'm not going to touch on S1 that much as the majority of what I would've noted is already in the previous sections, so with that in mind I want to talk the back half of S2, specifically Ezran finding out about Harrow onwards.

Upon receiving the news, Ezran is cruel to both Rayla and himself.

E: You knew? I'm such an idiot! I should've figured it out. When we met you, you had two of those assassin-y ribbon-y things. But one of them fell off that night! R: Yes. That must've been when he fell. E: Fell? Fell?! R: Yes. E: He didn't fall Rayla, he didn't trip and fall on the ground, he got killed!

Now there's parallels here about how Moonshadows will dress things up in prettier language than what's actually happening, and in Harrow's rejection of the same thing from Viren ("Call it what it is: dark magic") and Callum's critique in 3x08 ("You've got a nicer word for it?"). But the most overt thing is what we know about associations with falling and death from the elf we just recently got the name of: Aaravos.

Moving on, I want to talk about how Ezran's realization and acceptance of his father's death causes him to realize that he likewise needs to go home: "Maybe I can help the world better from the throne. I can do whatever I can to stop the war". (Something something Aaravos giving humans magic because he believed they could be 'better'.)

Aaravos was cast out of power and 'heaven' and Ezran ascends, yes, but Aaravos' descent caused him to lose clarity in childish revenge, whereas Ezran acquires clarity by moving into altruistic adulthood. He's not being radically changed morals or principles wise, but he's not stagnating. Furthermore, Ezran's bond with Zym that he acquires in 2x09 is like a 'healthy' version of Aaravos' channelling through Viren.

Ezran and Zym find that, due to their bond of love and understanding, they can see where the other person is, embodying the principle of the blindfold's basis being that you can see through another person's eyes and perspective. Here, Ezran's empathy / compassion is made completely literal, and helps Zym achieve the victory of flight in order to likewise save his brother and friend. Aaravos, meanwhile, channels power through Viren, and subsequently withdraws it entirely when it no longer suits him; Aaravos is seeing through Viren's eyes only, and they don't even win. Aaravos is eagerly participating in the fight at the beginning, but when he realizes his pawn may die, he switches tactics and "stays" with him. In contrast, Ezran and Zym achieve their aims and maintain their literal separation while being emotionally closer than ever.

This is all just set up for the Game, though. The first match that Aaravos and Ezra have, of course, is in 3x04 with

An Exchange of Kings (3x04)

As a game, chess is all about exchange and sacrifice. When Ezran is pushed into a corner of treating people like pawns (like symbols), he hates it.

What follows, then, is an exchange. In chess, if you get a pawn to the end of the board, you can exchange it for another piece that's already been taken (with the sole exception of your king, as that's checkmate). We see Aaravos do this slightly with Sir Sparklepuff and Viren in theory in 5x09, but we also see it here more directly with one king (Ezran) being swapped for another (Viren).

This is also, currently, the closest we see Ezran be a 'pawn' in any conceivable way. He's at the end of the board, he's being exchanged, except this time it's for the benefit of the opposing side. The main reason I mandate, then, that Ezran is still an Opponent rather than a piece is because of how this trade is inverted on an even broader scale later on this season:

The Final Battle (Or Not)

As king, and this is the particular piece of Chessmaster Ezran I think I adore above all else, he is fundamentally encouraged to treat his subjects like pawns.

Now, Ezran doesn't want to treat anyone this way. He doesn't view anyone, animal, human, elf or otherwise, as Not People. Even when the human armies are decidedly no longer literally human, and raging fiery monsters attacking him and everything he has left, he still holds sympathy for them and compassion for Claudia.

Claudia — and Viren — meanwhile, don't see their pawns that way at all. Claudia has yet to ever see Rayla as a person, only recognizing the elves who conveniently help her (Terry, Aaravos) as worthy of identified personhood; Viren and Aaravos' overall "plan" was to kill a baby dragon and use all the human army as "distractions". They never cared about anyone's personhood, once they'd gotten that far.

It is Ezran's distaste for seeing people as pawns ("Bait's not for sale, he's my friend!" / saving the baby glow toads) — preferring to see himself, like his father, as a servant king — versus that being all Aaravos has seemingly done for centuries that makes me feel like Ezran is the personal perfect opponent to eventually triumph in the end.

And going forward into S4, we see a few more of their matches take place:

S4 Ezran as the decision maker (4x04, 4x06)

One of the things I was most excited going into S3 was that Ezran, who'd been decisive but largely passive in the first two seasons, was going to be forced to make some difficult decisions. I was extra pleased, then, when we see Ezran step even more into that leadership role in S4 and S5; no longer is he mostly going along with Callum and Rayla's plans. Often times he's the one ultimately setting things up or making said decisions when the group is together.

It's his idea to tackle things together, and help Zubeia after all, in 4x04 (though he looks to his brother to receive an encouraging nod) and to bring Rayla along when she expresses doubts.

It's his idea to go find the puzzle pieces and express those next steps.

It's even his idea to bring Zubeia to Katolis that helps free up the Storm Spire for Claudia, as she takes the dragons leaving "as a sign" (unintentionally on Ezran's behalf, of course). But if Ezran is the stealth opponent here and there to Aaravos' mini matches, this is also something has happened before and will likely happen again, thanks to

The Orphan Queen

Chaos and confusion erupted and war threatened to tear Xadia apart, as now the elves suspected that the dragons had killed their queen. But truth came from an unexpected source. A young human girl discovered a great secret of history. A dangerous deceiver was revealed.

The last time Aaravos' plans firmly fell to pieces, and what led to his imprisonment, was ultimately the Orphan Queen. I've talked more about her potential parallels to Ezran in my Mirrored Trio theory post (as well as Callum's potential parallels to the Jailer) so I won't repeat too much here, but is an option if you'd like to see more.

The important thing to note here, though, is that Ezran's arc will 1) probably parallel the Orphan Queen's in ultimately being part of Aaravos' permanent defeat and 2) perhaps being one of the first to recognize the full scope of Aaravos' plans. I'd love it in particular if in S6, while at Katolis, Ezran does research into his ancient royal ancestor and learns more about her. Too late maybe to pass on the relevant information to keep Callum and Rayla from disaster, but... I expect this:

I should have seen it before. Ha! Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes and helped Xadia put an end to them. You look so much like her.

to come to fruition eventually, in S7 probably. Aaravos may win his chess game in S6, after all, but he will eventually lose.

Season five, of course, also offered more evidence aligned with this reading:

Season Five Set Up

In S5, we see Ezran continue to be the Retriever and finder of objects in ways that thus far no else has really achieved.

Claudia tries and fails to retrieve objects, mostly; Viren probably comes closest, and it'll be more of an aim for Callum and Rayla in S6, I still expect Ezran to ultimately pull ahead in future seasons.

He's also associated heavily with light in the TDP short stories in ways we've largely only seen given to Rayla in canon as well, highlighting another similarity between them, and placing Ezran in a similar position as Zym as the world's hope ("Look at them, playing together. That's hope. They're the ones that are going to break the cycle"):

Even the waning moonlight struggled to pierce its veil. Somewhere out there were his friends. His duty. His king. Two years before, when the world had seemed darkest, Soren began to imagine Ezran as a kindling flame, a bright little light holding back the abyss. When he’d named Corvus a Crownguard, he’d told him that the young king was not only Katolis’ hope, but all of Xadia’s, too. Soren had sworn to protect and tend that light. To nurture it. And in his darkest moments, that oath gave him a reason to feel strong again, a way to keep smiling.

Ezran also acknowledges outright in 5x01 exactly what Aaravos is doing and is the first in canon to use language that references Aaravos' game as a chess game with it, too:

The Archmage Aaravos is trying to escape his magical prison. His pawns are working, even as we speak, to find him and release him back into our world. We need to stop them. Can you please help us find his prison?

Ezran's Plans

In the latter half of s5, we also see the group routinely go with or accommodate Ezran's plans as well, even if they don't all necessarily agree. This is true in 5x05, in which we see Ezran reiterate that violence is a last resort:

E: If Akiyu made it, then she must know where it is. Then we can stop Viren and Claudia from releasing Aaravos. C: Or, hear me out [...] How bout we hitch a ride up there, borrow this Novablade, then we wait for Aaravos to get out, and just stab stab, buh-bye bad guy! E: Wait, slow down. Shouldn't that be the last resort? If we can stop Aaravos from getting out at all, we can solve this without any violence.

and in 5x06 with talking to Finnegrin and saving the Baitlings.

R: But he's not known for doing favours out of the goodness of his heart. E: It's not a favour. The fate of the world is at stake. I'm going to go talk to him. C: I'll go with Ezran while you and Soren try the docks.

5x09

That said, I think about this line from 5x09 when it comes to all of the above:

E: One step ahead is okay. Because Domina Profundis told me something they don't know: the secret of the prison.

We find out, of course, that this is the prison is a pearl in a clam's mouth... something that Soren seemingly knew on account of travelling with Ez, but that Rayla and Callum did not. This puts a target on Ezran's back in the confrontation scene — she primarily attacks and interrogates him ("You know, don't you? Tell me everything you know little king, or I'll squeeze it out of you!") — and Ezran nearly gives the game away to disaster, so it's, again, not like he's perfect.

It does however showcase yet another example of Ezran knowing something that other characters discover after the fact, and more rarely in TDP, that the audience discovers after the fact (compare this with how we know Harrow is dead well before the princes do, for example, or that Claudia and Viren are already up to no good in early S4).

I also don't think I have to spell out that Ezran knowing the Secret of the Prison — the very thing he set out to find in 4x05! — in seasons called the Mystery of Aaravos is noteworthy, either. While there are certainly more secrets to uncover — how, for example, the prison was built exactly; how was Aaravos trapped within it; how did two humans like the Jailer and the Orphan Queen get involved — I think those are firmly moving into Aaravos backstory territory alongside the rest of his mysteries (cube included) than just relating purely to the prison's construction, per se.

Ezran received the last pieces of the puzzle, and he carried it through to the end to what, technically speaking, should be checkmate.

I can't wait to see him do it again some day, successfully this time.

Values and Gift Giving Subversion

I've already said that Ezran primarily takes on Harrow's mantle in being the the clearest thematic opposite to Aaravos thus far. That doesn't mean Callum and Rayla don't have their oppositions and parallels to Aaravos as well (they absolutely do; Rayla is currently a pretty strong foil!) but again that Ezran is the certified Opponent.

A few final ways we see this manifest is in Ezran's values. We've already seen the ultimate difference in their views on personhood, but one of my favourite ways that heavily intersects it that Ezran loves all his friends for the exact reasons Aaravos berates them in 4x04.

Aaravos taunts Rayla over her seeming inability to kill, but Ezran is the first to tell Rayla that's unequivocally a good thing: "You do realize I'm an assassin who hasn't killed anyone?" "I think that's a good thing."

Soren is a failed son 'unloved' by his father, but Ezran reaffirms time and time again how much he loves Soren, and the two always have a kind word or look for each other ("I just don't want to fail you too" "Thanks Soren [...] You're the best crownguard a king could ask for").

In a season where Callum learns his path of magic may have gotten him in a world of trouble, Ezran reminds him of the positive effect magic has had on his life, even if it's difficult: "Lots of things are hard, Callum. Like magic. But you figured that out".

We also see that Aaravos is prone to false gifts and dangling carrots. He gave Ziard a staff that couldn't ultimately protect him. He gives Viren another month of life mostly to bait Claudia into helping him. He uses and discards; these people don't mean anything to him. Not anymore.

Ezran, meanwhile, is nothing but sincere, particularly in his presentation of his crown to Finnegrin and Rex Igneous ("It's not worthless, it's made of my father's sword" / "I wanted to carry that strength with me") while also recognizing the error in his thinking: "We've got it all wrong. We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." He then realizes what Rex Igneous truly needs, and it is successful; we see this again in how his speech in 4x03 helps heal Zubeia. Ezran sees emotional scars clearly, especially after 4x03, and he responds accordingly and sensitively to them most of the time. He knows what people truly need, and that's why he's a good gift giver.

Conclusion

In the final season I think it would be Neato if Ezran had to spearhead an army against Aaravos' forces and send his brother and friends in as generals and soldiers because he doesn't want to treat them like pawns, he loves them, but to beat Aaravos at his own game he has to do so (until maybe Callum can flip the board on its head, thematically, anyway). Thank you bye

[ms-demeanor]

So I haven't talked a hell of a lot about my classes this semester because there doesn't seem to be that much to say but one thing that has been really interesting to me is how much I'm enjoying my statistics class.

The first thing is that my professor is a good lecturer with a good grasp about what trips students up - she's constantly saying "highlight this, this is confusing and you will need to remember it" or "make a note, this is where I often see students make mistakes in their work" and that is fantastic.

But part of it is that this class gives absolutely no fucks about what would be considered cheating in a lot of math classes? Like, not only are a wide variety of calculators extremely strongly encouraged, but the actual assignment portal will export the data for questions for excel so that you don't have to remember how to calculate the variance, you just have to enter the formula.

We are actively supposed to have our guided notes with us for the tests; we're constantly referring to tables the professor has provided for Z-values. This means that we've also got the long form and step-by-step instructions for each type of problem we're doing right next to us (and the tests give us a *ridiculous* amount of time in case we need to work out the problems by hand, like 3 hours for 10 questions).

This is the least-stressed I've ever been in any kind of math class, which I thought would be a high bar to clear after my wonderful algebra class last year.

It turns out that when you've got copious reference material, good instruction, a bunch of resources on hand, and low time pressure some kinds of math are actually. Like. Kind of fun? This is relaxing. It feels like solving puzzles.

[ao3cassandraic]

I’m wondering about your thoughts on something I’ve been musing on after S2. How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.

Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 1

You sure ask the difficult ones. (Which is great, I'm totally jazzed about it!)

I delayed answering this ask because it sent me off in a lot of directions:

What is an angel's starting knowledge base?

In contrast, how and what do we humans learn about our world and one another?

Which of these learning methods is not really available to an angel?

What do humans learn from books, fiction especially?

What kinds of information get left implicit in books because authors are humans writing for other humans?

How would an angel fill in those blanks? How would those blanks distort an angel's notion of How Humans and Human Things Work?

What would angels generally and either Aziraphale or Muriel (because yeah, it's hard to have this discussion without thinking about Muriel too) specifically read human-authored fiction for?

I don't have all the answers to the above questions. Not even CLOSE. I happily invite my fellow meta-ists to weigh in on any or all of them!

But let's see what I can tease out. We'll start with factory settings, so to speak.

Angelic vs. human factory settings

(questions 1 through 3)

Angels have (one) language. They have music -- or, at least, they can sing Her praises (likely by rote). At least some, like our Starmaker, have the knowledge to do specific jobs. Note that Aziraphale not only doesn't know how to make stars and nebulas, he's not even clear on what a nebula is. We can safely assume from that that angels don't all possess the same set of knowledge and skills purely by virtue (heh) of being angels.

We don't see, however, how much of what they know is simply an angel's birthright versus how much of it is somehow educated into them. We also don't know how She divvies up necessary knowledge, though I'd think it safe (given most takes on angelology) to guess that angelic rank and intended function are part of Her calculus, perhaps even the whole of it.

What strikes me hardest is that angels seem to be created either as adults or children (which is what I believe the scareable "cherubs" are), and they may well never change that state. The Starmaker is childlike in some ways, but not a child. Likely never was a child! Aziraphale, Before the Beginning, isn't childlike at all; his personality seems pretty close to fully-formed.

And children learn so very, very much. Babies learn so much as babies, while their neuroplasticity is super super plastic! Especially they learn about relating to other beings! (Which the Starmaker is conspicuously Not Real Great at, honestly -- absorbed in the work of creation, the Starmaker does not pick up the feelings Aziraphale is laying down at all.)

Children also learn one OR MORE languages, and that "more" is rather important, because language shapes how we think to some extent (the extent of that extent, and its nature, are objects of fierce debate among linguists and neuroscientists), and different languages shape us differently. Just as Crowley (as plenty of theologians argue) did humanity a favor with the whole knowledge-of-good-and-evil thing, the Tower of Babel (assuming that was a thing that happened in the GOverse; no reason it wouldn't have, I suppose) added a whole lot of nuance and complexity and competing understandings to humanity's sense of itself and its universe.

Exactly how angels and demons manage to speak all human languages (which Crowley indicates they can) isn't clear. If we accept that the Tower of Babel happened, both Heaven and Hell must have had to figure out a way to deal with it.

We do see, however, that angels and demons can be fluent in human languages without being fluent in human thought or human cultures. Gabriel and Sandalphon speak perfect English yet barely know which end of a book is up. Hastur and Ligur can't disentangle ciao/chow. And, I mean, actual food? Fuhgeddaboudit. So I see their linguistic facility as a sort of Douglas Adams Babel fish: it can translate an angel's or demon's thought into the target language, but it can't help an angel or demon think like an actual speaker of that language.

As an example, Gabriel can tell Job and Sitis about their new children, perfectly fluently. His purely-linguistic fluency does not help him understand that they loved their old children, much less why.

This may explain why Aziraphale studied French under M. Rossignol. He perhaps didn't feel he understood how French speakers think, and was interested enough in that to learn the language (as other meta-ists have noted, the language of love!) the human way.

So yeah, if I have a conclusion here it's that angels and demons can seem as off-center as they often do from a human perspective because they wholly missed out on a key period of human brain development.

What they have in its place appears to be... rules. Which is, I think, where I'll take this next.

[hollowtones]

opinions on yoshis story? imo that game doesnt deserve to have music that good

I haven't played very much of it and I've been meaning to do something about that forever. I've played some of it and I've watched others go through most of it.

I know I've seen a little bit of modern grumbling (I don't know if this was a point of contention when the game came out because I was three at the time. OK I looked up some reviews from the era and it looks like it was also a thing people were mad about back then. LOL) over the fact that the game isn't more like "Yoshi's Island" & that it feels like it's aimed more at younger audiences. I dunno. I've never been bothered much by games with some tie to one another doing something different. (Some of the response reminds me of Transformers fans being upset over Hasbro making toys and shows for very young children sometimes; admittedly maybe I'm off the mark here.)

It's a very easy game if you want it to be. You can just eat any fruits you want forever and it's over in a blink. And it's fine. It's fine if the video game lets you beat it very fast if you want to. You can also try to collect only one single kind of fruit in a level and that makes things take longer and makes them feel like more of a scavenger hunt (especially if you're trying to get all the melons). I think that's neat. There's sort of an interesting design trajectory from "Super Mario World" to "Yoshi's Island" where the levels become a little longer, a little more meandering, a little more exploratory, sometimes (not always, and not massively, but it's still there) a little less linear. No time limit. Going for collectibles instead; making every level about getting a score of 100 (if you want to). You can see that iterated on in "Yoshi's Story"! No singular end point of the level. Bigger rooms to explore (while still keeping levels relatively short). More of a focus on puzzle solving and exploration. Collectibles simplified to one meter that you fill up, but there are multiple things that can fill it & you get rewarded for only collecting one kind. (And also the hearts that let you pick what level you go to next. There's a lot of "opening up more of the game for yourself if you want to go out and look for it" here. Are there other collectibles, actually? I don't really remember...) Secret fruits that give even more points. It makes the levels feel more like puzzle box toys that you roam around in. It's neat that they designed that for younger kids and it's neat that you can make it more difficult if that sounds fun to you. (I would have to play more of it myself to decide if going for all melons is fun for me specifically. But I like it on paper, y'know?)

The pop-up storybook theming is cute and the visual aesthetic of the game overall works really well. It feels like arts & crafts dioramas made by kids (or with kids) so they could play pretend with their toys while reading a storybook. It's got very strong toy feel overall. The music is really fun!!! It does the dynamic soundtrack thing where some parts of the track change depending on your health!!! I'm always clapping my hands like a seal with a game's music changes depending what I'm doing!!! Maybe it's a little silly of me to say this, given that it's a sentiment I've had in the past, but nowadays I scratch my head a bit at "the music in this has no right to go this hard" type comments. It goes hard because the musicians got hired to make it like that. (I'm imagining a guy who thinks the "Yoshi's Story" music is the hardest music ever created and I'm smiling serenely about it. I hope he's real & I hope he's out there somewhere.) I'm glad they let Totaka do something that feels at least a little experimental for the goofy Yoshi babies storybook super happy yay & jumping throwing game soundtrack. It's a fun contrast, isn't it? It feels very of-the-era in a way I'm having trouble externalizing outside of "well it's a little weird and multi-genre". It's neat that they all have a shared melody that they draw on.

Thanks for reading my short essay on a childrens' video game I haven't played a lot of yet. I need to go take a shower now.