#because sometimes you have to spread the love

[eilooxara]

Ooh let's see if we can guess what the discourse is

The one I actually hear sometimes is that it's bad because it makes single people feel more lonely or some horseshit like that

On a similar note, something about "promoting amatonormativity", as is speculated by others in the notes

There could also be something about the culture around the holiday in monohet society being a consumerist trap

Or that focusing on the gestures associated with it instead of more genuine expressions of love is bad

Or that focusing one's expressions of love on a single day instead of spreading it out or something is bad

You could also get some discourse mileage out of celebrating a christian saint's feast day when christianity is for fuckos, or from the fucko's perspective, out of celebrating it while not being christian and probably also having premarital sex

However the funniest one I can think of is "they executed some guy in ancient rome and you're exchanging chocolates about it???"

Thanks, Anon!

-submit your poll!-

[innerfare]

Fingering You - Part 2

Summary: you already know from the title.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // fingering, mentions of penetrative sex, dirty talk, mirror sex, Big Dick Beckman, Rude Crocodile, Sadistic Doflamingo

——— 

Shanks: 

You never know what you’re going to get with Shanks, but you always know you’re going to get something. He’s the handiest man you’ve ever met, always copping a feel. When you walk past him, sometimes he’ll reach out and grab your hand. Other times, he’ll simply brush his hand against your thigh. And sometimes, he’ll drag you over to him and shove a finger inside you, not even warming you up (not that it takes much from him to get you wet, just a, “baby, come here,” in that rocky voice of his and a sloppy kiss that tastes like weed). And when he does finger you, you have no idea if he’s going to lazily stroke your clit until you orgasm, you whining and writhing on top of him while he lounges lazily in his hammock, or if he’s going to take you to the edge and then fuck your orgasm out of you with his cock. 

Beckman: 

Have you seen this man’s hands? Two of his fingers amount to a small cock. But don’t worry, he won’t be too mean about it. Sure, he’ll expect you to call him daddy, and no, he won’t let you hide your face or cover your mouth to stop yourself from moaning, but he’ll take it nice and slow, stroking your clit until you’re begging for his fingers inside you because you just feel so empty without him penetrating you, then probing your weepy little entrance, gently pushing one big finger in and only adding another when you’re creaming for him. “That’s my good girl,” he’ll tell you as you adjust to the size of his hands, “taking daddy’s fingers just like you’re supposed to.” When he’s not heaping praise on you, he’s kissing you, his tongue pushing into your mouth while his fingers thrust in and out of your cunt. And once you’ve cum, he’ll deem you ready to take his cock. (Big Dick Beckman always preps you). 

Mihawk: 

He’s something of an expert with his hands. He noticed very quickly what you liked and what you didn’t, making detailed mental notes of how to get you off the fastest. Of course, this means he is also guilty of quickly making you cum so he can satisfy you without investing too much time, which often leads you to beg him to fuck you while his fingers are deep inside you, hitting all the right spots, his thumb torturing your clit. “Please, Mihawk. Please.” You cry into his shoulder as he works your orgasm out of you, and only when he keeps fingering you do you know he’ll soon be following it up with his cock, that knowledge sending another strong wave of arousal through you. By the time he’s licking his fingers clean, you’re about to cum again. 

Crocodile: 

He has a lot of things that need his attention, you being one of them. But if you want his full attention, you’re going to have to work for it. There are the times he fingers you to be nice, to prepare you at least somewhat to get fucked by that big cock of his, but then there are the times you’re just so needy but he’s working late and you find yourself slipping into his office around midnight, your pussy so wet it feels slippery to walk, your juices soaking through your panties. And he makes damn sure to point that out when you sit on his desk and spread your legs. He’ll sit back in his chair in a cloud of cigar smoke, watching expectantly as you push your panties to the side and finger yourself like you were just doing in your shared bed, and when that isn’t enough for you, you pick up his hand and push his fingers into your aching hole. You grind against his hand until you orgasm, and when you finish, he raises an eyebrow at you, a signal to clean his hand off with your mouth so he can get back to work. 

Doflamingo: 

He loves nothing more than to put his pretty little pet on display, and his absolute favorite way to finger you is in front of a mirror. He strips you down completely, remaining clothed himself, and sits you down in front of your naked reflection, your back pressed into his massive chest. He hooks your legs over his knees to keep them spread wide while his hands remain free to torture you, pinching your nipples so you can see for yourself how red they get when he has his way with them, spreading your outer lips and making you describe how your folds are glistening wet, grinning like a mad man when you admit it’s all for him. He takes his sweet time with you, sometimes doing this for up to an hour and not even making you cum once. And of course, he can never keep his tongue to himself, so expect him to be licking all over your ears and neck as he works. 

Corazon: 

He’s actually so nervous the first time. His hands are so big, and you seem so small by comparison, especially your cunt, but you look so desperate, with your brows furrowed and your bottom lip quivering as you grind against his thigh. What’s a man to do? So, he gently slides your panties down your legs and feels your messy cunt for the first time. He can barely breathe as he drags his fingers up and down your slit, and he almost chokes the first time he touches your clit, his heart jumping in your chest when you whine. He does it again, though, and then again, rubbing your clit until your body is shaking and your hanging onto him for dear life, your orgasm tearing through you. Only then does he try putting a finger inside you. And every time thereafter, he does it in that order, knowing damn well that first clitoral orgasm will leave you desperate to have his fingers inside you and then for another orgasm, which is exactly what he wants, you cumming on his fingers over and over again.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[marvelfanfics1]

Little Maybank

requested by anon

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: suggestive comments/actions, brief mention of fighting, cursing, reader is a few years younger than JJ, protective!jj

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and JJ walk side by side towards the entrance of the Pelican Yacht Club, the rest of the pogues waiting by the Twinkie for you both to get some valuable information that one of the waiters there has for a current little mission they're all on right now.

JJ has is hands stuffed into his pockets while you swing your arms back and forth, looking at all the luxurious yachts lined up by the docks.

"You think we'll have a yacht one day, Jay?" You ask sweetly.

"Sure, a big ass one for all of us." He answers with a smile, ruffling your hair a little to which you whine, batting his hand away and trying to fix it again while he chuckles.

JJ can't believe that even with how your guys life situation is he still manages to keep you far away from the harsh reality, always making sure you're not anywhere near Luke whenever he has one of his outbursts or beats him, telling you the bruises are from a fight with a kook.

All the pogues treat you like you're their little sister and protect you like one, never letting you go on their more dangerous missions and shielding you from any harm.

JJ will always see you as his baby sister, you're his responsibility and the only thing he takes seriously in his life, well of course he teases you like every normal brother does but only him, the pogues sometimes too but they know to not go too far.

Your bubbly and overall nice personality is both a blessing and a curse, your want to spread positivity everywhere you go is as admirable as it's frustrating because many people, especially kooks, don't deserve to witness your sweet nature.

Protecting you is JJ's top priority, he wants you to grow up better than he did and offer you a carefree life full of love and fun. He'll be damned if something ever happens to you.

After you both sneaked inside the club, looking for the guy that has information.

JJ finally locks eyes with him and nods his head towards the restrooms, the guy quickly getting the hint and you both walk over to them when JJ turns to face you.

"Stay right here. I'll be back in a minute." He instructs and you nod with a smile, watching him go inside the men's restroom, swaying a bit back and forth on your feet.

While you look around you hope that no one notices that you shouldn't be here, too sensitive for any confrontation no matter the reason.

A group of boys who are standing a few feet away nursing their drinks spot you. "Dude, isn't that little Maybank?

"Shit yeah. Means her dumbass of a brother can't be far. Not to mention they sure as hell aren't supposed to be here." One of them observes, a smirk forming on his face.

Your head snaps back to the restrooms as you see JJ come out again and make his way back to you. "A'ight, mission accomplished. Let's head back to the others."

You nod and you both went on when suddenly someone blocks your path.

"Whoa, not so fast, pogues. Here to steal your next meal huh?" A brunette with a smug expression teases you both.

JJ clenches his jaw, moving you behind him protectively, his hands balling at his sides. "Man, we don't want any trouble."

"Who are you trying to fool here, Maybank? Your poor asses shouldn't even be here."

JJ glares at him but unclenches his fists again when he feels your hands grab onto his bicep, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting you to see him lash out.

He took a deep breath, about to just walk past that douchebag when he hears you yelp suddenly as the guy's friend slapped your ass.

"That little beauty can stay tho." The black haired boy chuckles.

Before you could comprehend what just happened JJ swiftly turns and swings his fist, his knuckles connecting with the guy's jaw who had dared to touch you.

You gasp at that, stumbling back and against the brunette, quickly turning around to face him and without thinking twice you push him over the railing and watch him fall into the water.

Hearing several gasps from the club members and employees around you has you freezing, grappling the fact what you just did when JJ grabs your hand.

"C'mon! We gotta go!" He stresses, pulling you out of your shocked state and you instantly start running, hearing the way JJ laughs. "Oh my god that was crazy!"

Pope slides open the Twinkie's door from inside when he sees you both running and you jump in, your back hitting the wall.

"Bro drive!" JJ shouts at John B and he quickly starts the van as you and your brother keep panting.

"What the hell happened?" Kie asks, looking you both over concerned.

"You guys will never believe it..." JJ breathes heavily, glancing at you with a grin and you blush, a small smile forming on your face. "Our little angel here just pushed a kook into the water."

You're surprised when your friends start to cheer and ask questions excitedly, wanting to know what happened.

You giggle as Kie and Cleo wrap their arms around your neck from each side, their hurried questions overlapping each other.

Pope ruffles your hair just like JJ always does, and you can hear John B laughing behind the wheel, smacking it a few times while Sarah claps her hands.

Your smile stays rooted on your face, feeling happy and safe in your family's presence.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[feministbirdcreature]

Ok I am gonna go one step further

Perhaps the psychological reason behind why men seem to enjoy dehumanising and degrading women through sex so much, is because they think the sexual hold that women have over them is degrading. Idk how to explain it properly bc I’m stoned rn, but sometimes when I hear males talk about sex I get the vibe that they are fully aware of how sex obsessed they are and they don’t like it because it’s kinda pathetic to be honest? The male sex drive makes them act like animals whereas as a species we always like to think we are more sentient and enlightened and advanced than other species, and it all makes them very uncomfortable and it probably feels dehumanising in a way to feel like you’re a slave to your urges

But instead of making the choice to act like proper human beings, they just double down on everything. Their sex drives make them feel dehumanised so they take it out on us by dehumanising and degrading us

This is just a theory, but i think it makes sense because from an evolutionary perspective, why would it be beneficial for the males of the species to be really sadistic towards the females? I know that there are some other species that practice rape but the level of psychopathy, sadism and degradation that males display against women is beyond anything else in the animal world, surely? A lot of men love to go on about how this is all natural and men just evolved to be “more aggressive to spread their seed” but no, I don’t think it’s natural because the level of hatred towards the female sex that we are seeing can’t be beneficial to the survival of a species. I think there’s some weird psychological stuff behind it, sort of a human evolutionary glitch that’s making our species hurtle towards doom (patriarchy is so destructive I don’t see our species lasting long). I can only describe the hatred of women that we are witnessing as an evolutionary glitch. This can’t be beneficial in any way to the long term good of the species.

It sucks that as a species, 50% of the population evolved the ability to think more abstractly and intelligently than other species without losing the chains of the most basal male animal urge to mate at all times. It’s a sort of contradiction that the average male with 0 emotional intelligence can’t quite come to terms with. All the extra “intelligence” did was make them better at thinking of ways to make us (and the rest of the planet) suffer. It reminds me of a factoid I read once about how porn is a major driving force towards a lot of technological revolutions. Basically men make and develop stuff to try and see more boobs on a screen. Without emotional intelligence, that intelligence means nothing because they’re treating us like shit, they’ve developed a political system that promotes destructive and masculine ideals and a lot of species are going to go extinct because of the destruction caused by patriarchy.

I feel like I just psychoanalysed all men lol lemme know if you agree guys because I feel like I’m onto something

I learned of a Tiktok 'trend' recently of men taking their female family members, friends, partners etc out on a lovely nature walk, then starting to record and saying "I bet nobody would be able to hear you scream here."

There is not ONE video that the woman laughs in, even when they explain the prank. Not one. For a sex who have been socialised to nervously laugh when uncomfortable, not one of them found it funny. It was mothers who stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes filled with fear. It was girlfriends who started running away in fear, to the laughing taunts of "it was just a joke come back!!!!!". It was sisters who stared these men down, unable to process what this male had said to them.

First of all, the timing is sociopathic. It's not an accident. With Nick "we control your bodies b*tch" Fuentes doing a monologue that undeniably sunk into the psyches of most men, AND the general political landscape for women atm, they feel joy and pleasure at unabashedly making their female friends and family suffer. They giggle at the prospect of making them fear for their life, and they film it for other men to get off on.

Moids continually stun me. After hundreds of thousands of years of oppression you'd think I would understand and expect it, but they reach new heights every time I blink. Deep down, I'm just a hopeful girl who sees men as humans. I try not to assume they're beyond saving, but they're making it harder to believe. They just seem wired for pain and suffering and destruction.

My heart bleeds for the women and girls in places where they have full reign. These demons won't stop until they have raped and destroyed the planet in pursuit of more intense porn to feel a sliver of the emotion women possess.

[bitchslapblastoids]

Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!

To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!

Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little

yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.

when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3

2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.

for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)

the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.

their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.

every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.

When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.

dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.

that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.

you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3

[tossawary]

I'm reviewing episode transcripts from "Merlin" to build up my worldbuilding document (character list, mostly) and, a little ways into S2, I'm kind of feeling like the show is actually quite mean to Arthur as a character sometimes? S1 E14: "To Kill the King" is one of those episodes where I forget how badly it pissed me off until I run into it again.

Like, don't get me wrong, Arthur can be a bully, entitled, hotheaded, and reckless, but he's also at this point risked his own life to save people multiple times. Both individuals whose lives were "worth less" than his own (getting the Mortaeus flower for a poisoned Merlin, smuggling Mordred out of the city, protecting Ealdor from bandits) and also Camelot as a whole (fighting the plague-causing monster in the sewers, fighting the mam-eating griffin, drinking poison to lift the unicorn curse).

Arthur is giving me vibes of being both bored and frustrated (and probably not able to name those feelings or exactly why he has them) because he wants so badly to do good things, but he's not really sure how to go about it because (no one ever tells him anything, he almost NEVER knows what's really going on to make informed choices, and) he's also stuck under the thumb of his tyrannical father, who spends most of their scenes together berating Arthur for being too merciful, for not being dutiful enough, and/or not finding sorcerers for execution fast enough. When Arthur tries to be fair-minded and compassionate, Uther often essentially tells him that he's going to be a weak king with that attitude.

Arthur's pathways to betterment are limited, his parent and role model and boss here is an AWFUL person, but he's trying!

So, it's quite frustrating to get to this one episode where characters like Gaius (extremely biased, admittedly, clearly not an objective individual) are saying things like: "Arthur's not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgement."

Like, I don't know, Arthur may be only 21 and kind of a dipshit, but I personally think he'd still do a better job than the guy who tried to kill a kid (Mordred) just for existing a few episodes ago? Maybe? Gwen's father, who wasn't even a sorcerer or knowingly working with one, is dead explicitly because of Uther's awful laws. Did everyone in this episode forget that Uther tried to BURN GWEN ALIVE AT THE STAKE not that long ago (Episode 3)?

ARTHUR: "[Morgana]'s right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

UTHER: "You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments."

ARTHUR: "Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father, that doesn't make [Gwen] guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of, of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

UTHER: "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

ARTHUR: "I understand that."

UTHER: "One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom."

ARTHUR: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father. So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

UTHER: "I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

When the adult druid (Cerdan) accompanying Mordred is killed (Episode 8), Arthur objects afterwards! On his own! While Arthur is sometimes an active participant in Uther's tyranny and otherwise complicit, he's been told all of his life that magic is inherently evil and corrupting, he was raised by the very man spreading this hateful philosophy, he should probably hate magic more than anyone after Uther, and yet he still disagrees with Uther's methods and judgments. Even though Uther is apparently VERY willing to lock both his son (Episode 4) and his ward (Episode 8) in the dungeons for disagreeing with him and disobeying him!

ARTHUR: The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?

UTHER: Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated.

ARTHUR: The Druids are a peaceful people.

UTHER: Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak.

ARTHUR: Showing mercy can be a sign of strength.

UTHER: Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city.

Obviously, running a kingdom is complicated! Uther apparently won Camelot by conquest and is in conflict with many of the neighboring kings, including Odin and Cenred, and likely has more of the respect of the local nobility than young Arthur does. Uther's death would create some instability! (Agravaine de Bois hasn't been created yet, but let's assume there are many other potential vultures.)

But the show generally isn't pushing that angle. This isn't really about smooth transitions of power. Personally, concerning Arthur's "lack of judgment", I do find his ready conviction that it is his duty to die for Camelot's honor if necessary (he says as much to Merlin explicitly before fighting Valiant in Episode 2, then again before fighting the Black Knight in Episode 9) more than a little concerning, but that doesn't seem to be angle pushed here either.

The show has characters (Merlin, Gwen, Gaius) suggesting that offing the King, who regularly kills innocent people whether they have magic or not, who has forbidden use of the tool that might have saved innocent people from Nimueh's plague or the wraith of Tristan de Bois, would be wrong! It would be murder and murder is bad! It would make (in the words of a grieving Gwen) her "just as bad" as him.

Even though Merlin has at this point already killed Aulfric and Sophia (Episode 7), as well as Mary Collins (Episode 1) because they were trying to kill Arthur. And arguably got an assist with Valiant (Episode 2). And will kill many more as the show goes on. This conversation with Kilgharrah in S1 E14 is in many ways so, so funny:

KILGHARRAH: Well, young warlock, what is it you come to ask of me?

MERLIN: I need your help.

KILGHARRAH: Of course you do, but this time, will you heed my words?

MERLIN: The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the King. He's made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do!

KILGHARRAH: Do… nothing.

MERLIN: What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die.

KILGHARRAH: Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent…

MERLIN: But surely that doesn't make it right to kill him.

KILGHARRAH: Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!

[The dragon flies off.]

MERLIN: Wait! Where does it say my destiny includes murder?

KILGHARRAH: Free this land from tyranny, Merlin! Free us all!

I feel for Kilgharrah here. He was VERY straightforward. I don't know how he could have been clearer about this.

I won't say that Merlin's character writing doesn't make ANY sense here (I do think the character writing in this show is NOT amazingly consistent), because... he IS being influenced by Gaius, who is, unfortunately, a bootlicker and also probably extremely traumatized by all of the death he's seen (big contributor of the bootlicking) (also, apparently Gaius only becomes a "freeman" at the end of Episode 6, so there's that). And Merlin is also being heavily influenced by Arthur, who loves his father, despite everything. For Arthur's sake, if no one else's, Merlin will go out of his way to save Uther. Sure! That tracks!

Merlin spends a lot of time in this show protecting a terrible status quo under some assumption that Camelot will... somehow suddenly become better under Arthur? Instead of perhaps eventually just trusting Arthur and talking to him after their years of knowing each other? There are several, in-world reasons for this and I don't think they're all unrealistic! It's tense! It's thrilling sometimes!

(Though I am ultimately a little annoyed that Merlin's many secrets never really come out and get dealt with by the characters, because that would have been fun drama and some resolution to all the tension, even if the story did still end in death.)

There's some tasty tragedy in this silly show, in many ways. Merlin is confused and conflicted and scared and without clear guidance in many ways. Kilgharrah is mysterious and not at all reassuring. Gaius is complacent and (very reasonably) incredibly secretive. Merlin doesn't get to see many of the moments where Arthur speaks up for magical people and tries to talk Uther down. Morgana and Arthur are both stuck here in a "The hands that cradled you are covered in an unimaginable amount of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?" nightmare scenario. (There's also a sexist element where male characters like Gaius and Merlin won't let Morgana know about her own powers "for her own good" in a gaslight-y way that's fascinating to me in how it creates a villain.)

But, also, the compelling tragic elements here don't make certain episodes any less frustrating to watch in their execution. (I don't think villains being frustrating to watch or read necessarily makes them effective villains, especially when what I really find annoying here is the heroes' reactions to the villain. Uther has killed SO MANY PEOPLE! FOR NO REASON!) Especially when a lot of the overall results of this show often feel more accidental than purposeful. I do understand why the writers keep Uther around! He's a formidable antagonist to have looming all over the place and the actor is fun.

But OOF, I felt that "Do... Nothing".

Merlin! MERLIN! LISTEN TO THE SCARY DRAGON! MERLIN, REMEMBER THAT TIME UTHER TRIED TO BURN GWEN ALIVE??? JUST BECAUSE GWEN IS TOO NICE TO GO AFTER UTHER WITH A KNIFE AND TAKE REVENGE, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MEAN KILLING HIM MAKES YOU "JUST AS BAD"!!! MERLIN!!! YOU HAVE ALREADY MURDERED MULTIPLE PEOPLE WHO KILLED WAY LESS PEOPLE THAN UTHER!!!

In Episode 4, Morgana says to Uther: "You can't chain [Arthur] up every time he disagrees with you." This implies to me that Uther has had Arthur thrown in the dungeons before. In Episode 3, Arthur says to Morgana: "Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," and maybe he wasn't at all joking with that? Arthur is rattling the bars of his cell here, apparently fairly ready to be aimed wherever Merlin points him, bucking against being aimed at innocents by his tyrant of a father.

But nooo, Gaius says Arthur is "not ready yet" because...??? He seems less hotheaded than Uther to me, honestly. Are his tax policies not up to par yet? You can hire a guy for that. Suggesting that Arthur would be in any way worse than His Majesty "Anyone Who Talks To A Sorcerer Gets Executed Even If They Didn't Know They Were A Sorcerer" feels quite mean to Arthur, really. I think he'd do alright, in comparison, Gaius who lies to the King every single day, but I suppose you sometimes want to be a loyal friend to good ol' King "Made Merlin Drink Poison That One Time And Wouldn't Let Anyone Go Get The Cure". Good for you. Bad for everyone else.

Like, I know, I know this show is not very deep. I like that all of the characters are flawed and fumble a lot! I even kind of enjoy that it ultimately ends in death with so many loose emotional threads. It is a weekly burst of fantasy nonsense that is not especially concerned with consistency in worldbuilding or characters from episode to episode. But the executive discrepancies here are, like the ones in "Star Wars", weirdly fascinating with all of the holes and wobbly bits it creates.

This show: "Yes, our hero has once again saved the tyrannical king who kills innocents! Preventing the oblivious prince from assuming the throne and trying to do better as he so clearly wants to do! Good work, Merlin, taking the high road (which involved murdering the rightfully angry people trying to kill the tyrannical king) again!"

Me, every time: "...I am genuinely not sure how the show wants us to interpret this. What did they think they were doing with this? Was this always meant to be a tragedy from the first season? Because personally, I'm getting some kind of tragedy from this."

[red-doll-face]

When Arthur Morgan, big bad outlaw, has a crush on you, it’s kind of everyone else’s problem.

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader hcs::

Oh god this man, low honor Arthur hides his feelings even more than his high honor counterpart. Which is hard to do.

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you to make you uncomfortable and squirmy, just to see you fumble and mess something up. He’ll just light a cigarette and watch you drop a bucket of water all over the front of your dress. Even worse is the laugh he lets out at your mistake.

Lays it on real thick if he thinks he has a chance, very condescending with his pet names, princess and darling and sweetheart, his goal is to fluster you and see how you take it.

So condescending that you don’t believe they come from him liking you, you think he finds you prissy.

When you cover your face and look away, he has a very smug smile on his face.

Chases other men away from you, whether it be other camp members or people in town, he’s spitting awful words until they leave you alone or they try and fight him. Sucks if you grow close to anyone but the girls, Arthur is getting right in the middle of that. He might still get jealous of the girls because he’s selfish and doesn’t like to share.

He loves to fight with you watching and even kill with you watching. Then maybe you’ll get that he likes you. He thinks he’s being very obvious.

Sometimes he’s mean to you, but not with words, mostly holding things out of your reach or something like that. He’s a pervert who loves to feel you scrambling up his chest to try and get your things back.

Once, he made you cry and he felt pretty bad about it and decided to tone it down. Expect a huffy and hasty apology and a very thoughtful gift.

If you ever call him out on his behavior while crying, the look on his face. He just looks angry and disappointed at himself before riding away to run away from you and his feelings.

If he sees you being too close to somebody he feels is a threat to his imaginary claim on you, he gets pissy, tries to hide how much it upsets him. So much more when he thinks it’s someone who you may be better off with like Javier or Charles.

Once other camp members see how he’s acting, the girls spread the rumor that he likes you.

Arthur gets so mad about it, doesn’t matter if it’s true 😭 stomping around camp and being meaner than usual.

If you end up returning his feelings and one of the guys makes fun of him for going soft or seeing him hugging you, they’re getting clocked.

Thanks for reading 😭😌❤️ I love him he’s such a baby omg. If you have reqs or comments send right neow.

[junedenim]

catch some z's

he's lovedrunk.

warnings: smut, blowie, angst, fluff, ambiguity, you get the picture

word count: 4.6k

He’s bored. It's not a major affliction, it just sort of happens at these kinds of things. Parties fall into two categories boring and too drunk to remember. He doesn't want to get drunk so he's bored. Everyone else seems drunk. He knew he had come to this party too early. It's only 10 o'clock and he's been here for 2 hours and he's ready to go home. But everyone else is just getting started. In fact, half the people planning to attend this party have yet to arrive. So, he guesses that's why he's staying. Within that half, there's you. That kind of thing just happens too.

Your relationship has been a fuzzy one. Alex used to date your best friend but now they are just friends. He's also friends with your friend's wife. Everyone just kind of knows each other. It's all very incestuous. But you've always been friends. You're witty, sharp like a whip, and have a laugh so contagious he's gotten stomach aches from it. He also might be in love with you but that part is a little fuzzy too.

He sits and waits at the bar, still nursing just one drink. He knows not to go too heavy on the alcohol like last time. He's been too sloppy with his liquor lately. Somehow, you're never drunk. He's seen you down enough liquor to make a person fall over but you stand the same: hand-on-hip with a slight curve of your spine. It's enough to get him to break a sweat.

He's been stuck daydreaming for too long he thinks he might have fallen asleep. He leans against the bar and debates whether it's worth staying. He knows you'll come here with someone else because you always do. He wonders if you're ever alone. There's also someone on your arm and someone in your bed.

Sometimes, it's him. He's okay with the "sometimes" part of things. It works for people like him, the comers-and-goers of the world. But within that "sometimes" you're together, you like to play these games. Bring another man along, show up late to the party, pretend he doesn't exist. He knows you do all this to get a rise out of him, in more ways than one, but his impatience is at the max. Alcohol would make it more tolerable but he wants to be fully aware tonight.

A warmth spreads across the back of his neck and there you are with your hand on your hip, that curve in your spine, and Michael on your arm. Michael is fine. He's a horrible drunk but one of the more manageable men in your life. He'll pass out on the bar soon enough and you can pawn him off to one of your other friends to take home.

He knows all this because of the glint in your eye. He's only turned around, his vision not even properly focusing on taking everything in, but that spark shines through. You're smiling and it's both conniving and lustful. He wants to take a bite out of you sometimes, to have you lodged in his throat.

"Hiya, sailor!" You salute him, having a big joke out of you. That'll make it tougher. When you're in this joking mood, you have him play court jester for you, mock him all night, tease and toy with him before you finally give in. He doesn't know if he can work for all that tonight. He feels tired and there's a pounding in his head. It's light but he won't make it past midnight. He can tell by your smirk that you're in it for the long haul and you're ready to drag him through it.

Alex finds it best to just play along. The quicker he gives, the quicker you'll give. He bows his head. "How are you doing, ma'am?"

You play your swooning act, a soft gasp, and give him your hand. He places a soft kiss on the back of it, giving it the featherlight touch that he knows leaves you aching for more. He wants you to ache. "We had a long journey from Rex."

His head lifts slowly, trying to keep track of all your slight movements like the way your eyebrow quirks as you wait for a response from him. You know how to handle your prey. You're a master of it. "You've been out already?" He raises himself up completely, leaning back against the bar.

He's thankful for the way Michael sways, already lost in the sauce. Any sober person would question these slow movements, this dance you do with one another, every position calculated. Each of your response times inch on for years. There's an extended period of time—one long enough to be classified as an eternity—before you give a slight nod of your head. "Rex Club, Bridge—enough for Michael to be drunk."

"Michael's drunk," Alex notes like this is new information. Michael looks like he might need a chair but you kept him pinned at your side like your puppy. Alex takes a sip from his drink to wash you down.

He waits for your quip, the one that will make him feel foolish. But your eyes begin to wander and he's panicked he's lost your interest. You tug at Michael's hand like you're trying to keep him awake. "Can I have that?" You point to his half-empty glass, sitting in his hand. Zig-zag.

"Yeah." The glass looks better in your hands, somehow turned into fine china. The liquor slips easily down your throat and the glass is suddenly empty, sitting on the bar beside him. Your head roams around the room like you're looking for someone else to prey on. At one point, he would have begged for you to stay but he's too tired to make a fool of himself. Another drink doesn't sound bad so he orders another of his and one for you. That makes you stay. Alcohol is always key to getting your attention.

"You didn't ask me what I want?" You play coy, biting your lip, letting go of Michael's hand to place your hands on your hips. He's got you, he knows it now. You've let go of Michael, now you just need to rid of him, pawn him off to Matt or something.

He shrugs. "I know what you like." You'll take anything, you're flexible that way, and you're a dipsomaniac, at least in practice.

You hum and tilt your head like you don't quite believe this but he knows this to be the truth. He knows that you know this. Your hair flows down with the movement of your head, your neck is exposed and just like that, you've knocked him back. You know each other so clearly, so knowledgable in the movements that'll make the other snap. His control has broken and he's been reduced to a puddle just by the sight of the slope of your neck. How sweet it is.

"Should we get Michael a seat?" He asks. The man's eyes are half-shut and he hasn't said a single thing this whole time. Alex wonders if he's hooked on anything else but at least he isn't doing his drunken rambling routine yet.

You look over Michael with an admiring gaze. Alex doesn't understand Michael. He's a normal guy who can sometimes make you laugh and sometimes make you want to kill him. He's not exciting and he can be rather tiresome. Alex knows, in some sense, Michael is a project for you. He's a toy for you to play around with for this month. But shouldn't these projects be more interesting than Michael? There's nothing admirable about Michael. He's miserable to look at. (He's handsome but Alex is steadfast in the belief no one is worthy of you, not even himself, not that he wants to be. He's content with whatever this is because this is fun. Michael is not fun).

"Michael and I will grab us a table. You'll bring over the drinks?" You're playful and, to him, it's hurtful. He thinks you should know he's tired, that this was a long week and he can't do this hours-long dance with you. Now, you're just being cruel. You walk away, swaying in your hips and his eyes are on your ass. He waits and waits and waits for those drinks.

He sets them down at the small table, the one up against one of the walls. Michael has gained an awareness of his surroundings and spots the two glasses sitting before him. "Where's mine?"

Alex chuckles at the man's slurring. Michael is a punching bag to him. But then you're looking at him and with a smirk you say, "Al, go get Michael a drink."

He swears to himself this is it. He'll grab Michael a drink and grab your hand and go home and fuck you because this is all tiring. You once said you like a man in charge so he's going to do that and he does do that and you yelped and yelled at him to sit down. So, he sits down. "You can be so extreme," you say with an eye roll.

He's baffled by this. "I'm extreme?" He doesn't understand how you aren't aware of the extreme torture he is suffering from. "What about you?"

You scoff and sip your drink, smiling into the glass. "You like to make scenes."

Alex laughs. It's a falsehood of a story to consider him to be capable of making scenes. He has always been the quiet mouse sitting in the corner. He's been known to occasionally come out of his shell but compared to you. There's no competition. "You don't know me very well."

You bite your lip and lean back in your chair. Michael is chugging his drink. "I know you perfectly."

He concedes, "Yeah." It's the truth. You've always had this irregular responsive relationship. One look and each of you knows, like the stare you give one another as Michael burps. Hidden peals of laughter slipped under the "pleasantries" you exchange.

You cross your legs. His eyes travel down the exposed skin. A thigh to kiss, a knee to caress, shoes to scatter across the halls of his house. During one of the first go-arounds you two had, you kicked his shin. He swears the bruise is still there.

"You make me laugh, Al," you randomly say. He considers this to be a calculated move. Your right leg, the one crossed over the left, swings back and forth, knocking against the leg of the table and his leg. His view of you is obstructed by the glass sitting in front of your lips like you could kiss it at any point. He's always wanted to be a cold liquor-filled glass.

He'll play with the cat. "Why's that?" He leans back in his chair, wraps his hands around his glass, sitting his arm on the table. He crosses his leg—right over the left—knocking his boot-covered foot against your strappy heels. If he could smoke in here, he'd lit a cigarette now. He knows how that gets you going.

You shake your head at him. And then, you're blushing. It shocks him how much he's overtaken you. It shoots pleasure through him and puts a feather in his cap. He'll boast about this to whoever cares to listen. You lift your head back up and push your hair back, uncovering those rosy cheeks. "You really know how to do a girl in."

"Do a girl?" It's his way of prompting Let's get the fuck away for Michael and fuck. But it's cheesy and sloppy and has you turning your face away, looking around the room again. Not a good sign.

"Is anyone else here?" The question makes him wince. Why should you give a fuck about anyone else when he's here? He's here, exposed, and he made you blush just a minute, who else here has made you blush? Certainly not Michael.

He shrugs and downs most of his drink. Michael's glass is empty and he's rising out of his chair to go get another. "You get the next one, Mike?"

Michael, with no awareness of time, money, words, or you, nods his head. "Yeah. I got you. I got all of you." He leaves and it's a relief.

Alex inches closer to you while you're looking away. He thinks about reaching out but that isn't part of the game. "When are we leaving?" It could be too much, too quick. Sometimes you like it hot and cold but that's not important to Alex right now. He's tired. And horny. Really fucking horny.

You cock your head back like you're trying to evaluate him. "We? Leaving?" You click your tongue. "No. Not now." He'll take his time. Alex knows he sometimes has to wine and dine you. Another drink will lighten things up and maybe induce Michael into alcohol poisoning so he can leave for good.

Michael comes back with more drinks. You all sit in a silent circle. Your eyes are off looking at the rest of the party, looking for someone better to devour. Alex is looking at you, trying to will your eyes toward him through his stare or magical powers or whatever. Michael is looking at his drink. Michael likes his drink very much.

"When are you going to look at me?" Alex finally asks. Wizardry wasn't doing much so maybe words will work.

Your head turns back. You look at him, really look at him, dissecting him for your science fair project. Your gaze is puzzling at first, trapped in a landmine. You brush your hair behind your ear twice and lean back in your chair again. A smirk reemerges across your face. "I'm looking at you now aren't I? Do I need to watch you all the time?"

Alex nods. "I'd like you to."

You adjust yourself. He's made you frazzled. How pleased he is. "Okay." It's like you've accepted your fate, surrendered yourself, not to him, never to him, but to wherever the night leads. For him, this is preferably his house and preferably right now.

"Go?" He points his thumb behind him to the exit. You look sold with the smirk burying itself deeper on your face and your feet both firmly placed on the ground. It excites him to an extreme degree.

You tilt your head to the side and he's ready to stand and sweep you away for the rest of the night. Your smile grows wider. "Michael, we're going to Al's." His smile fades and his head drops back with a groan. You stand and grab Michael as you're unsure if he can stand on his own two feet.

Alex grunts as he stands and doesn't bother helping with Michael. "You hate me," he says, sipping the rest of his drink. He puts his suit jacket back on and waits for you and Michael, who is leaning against your back, slumped in sleep how Alex wishes to be.

You pinch Alex's side, the first touch all night. He squirms away from it but he's desperate for your hand on him again. You possess a touch that makes a man unfold. "You're very cute when I work you up."

"Why don't you let me work you up?" Code for Please let me into your panties right now.

You begin to walk toward the exit. You sigh and pull Michael to your side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his head slightly perked up as he relearns how to walk. "I have to take care of Michael," you say. Michael can take care of himself. Michael has a hundred other people at the party who would have taken care of him. But you enjoy working Alex up, you told him this. When his hair gets all messy from his hands running through it so much, that's your favourite part of him. The unraveling and the unraveled.

The air feels late as you walk toward Alex's place. He chases the alleviation of a cigarette, placing it between his lips and dangling it there. Michael is saying something about Canada but his ears feel too muffled to listen. You stand between Alex and Michael, your arm around the latter and the side of your hip knocking into the former. You're testing him, he knows this.

"Michael, would you like to go home?" Alex asks at a red traffic light. A taxi rounds the corner and Alex hopes to shove him into it.

Michael babbles something on your shoulder before looking at Alex. He chuckles. "No, we're going to your place, remember? Silly guy."

You cackle with Michael, making fun of Alex, who puts up with all this because his house is just a block away but these cars keep getting in the way of crossing the street. Michael stands up straight, brushing off his shoulders like there's dust there or something. He starts trying to touch his toes. The traffic light is still red. "Are you having a good time?" You ask.

He thinks about spitting to show his disgust. He turns his head to you and smiles with such a falsehood that it gets you giggling again. You tap his shoulder and leave your hand there, commanding attention. "When are you going to kiss me?" You ask.

Alex laughs. "If this traffic light ever turns green." That and Michael getting hit by a car. Alex truly does like Michael.

You giggle. "You have many rules." Your body seems closer.

"I do?" He questions, a smirk appearing as your face draws closer. "I think you're projecting."

"Mhmm," you agree but words are so far away and your lips are so close to his. Kissing passes the time quickly. He is looped into you and refuses to take his hands off of you. You pull away but Alex's hand remains in contact with your arm. You look behind you. "Michael, the light's green." And then, you're crossing the street and Alex has to remember what walking is. Your skin's touch burned into the palm of his hand and he finds himself having to catch up.

Michael races into the house the second Alex opens the door. He lets you enter first and locks the door after himself. Michael is sitting at the kitchen table and you’re moving through his cabinets. His boots stop clicking at the archway into the kitchen. You turn your head toward him, your hair spilling down your back. “Where’s your alcohol?”

“You finished it off.” He rubs his right eye. He’s getting a headache. Maybe this is a prolonged hangover. He wants to sit down but he can’t sit at the same table as Michael, he might have a stroke if he does that. He takes his suit jacket off and folds it over his arm. He unbuttons the top two ones of his shirt. It feels so fucking hot.

You turn around with a frown. Your hands go to your hips. Your head tilts to the left. “Michael needs his bottle.” Like he's a baby or something and not a grown man. This would be more fun if Alex was drunker. He's just tired.

Alex rubs his hand over his face, trying to scrub away his headache, the exhaustion, and this sweat. "There's some stuff in the fridge. I'm gonna go change." He turns his back and hears you mutter, "Okay," before he moves into the bedroom. He can hear you snap open a bottle and Michael is doing some shouting but it's largely muffled to him.

Alex takes his shoes off. He pushes his trousers off and pulls his button-up over and ends up facedown on his bed. His head aches and his back feels sharp. He debates going to sleep. He knows you can manage to let yourself out, you've done it before. 

The door creaks open and you come in and sit on the bed. Your hands make their way through his hair and for a moment he thinks he's imagining this pleasure. He feels a gentle release of his tension as your healing hand sweeps through his hair, their cold touch on his scalp. "My poor old baby."

Alex muffles a chuckle into his pillow and turns his head to look up at you. "I'm not that bad."

You openly giggle. "I don't know. You're suffocating yourself in your pillow."

Your hand continues to move its way through and his eyes flutter momentarily, almost eroding his exhaustion. "Where'd Michael go?" He's either dead on the couch or you let him out because not a peep can be heard. That whining has finally gone away, maybe that's why he feels better.

You sigh. You remove your hand from his head, using them to remove your shoes. "He's getting more alcohol."

"Ah," Alex says. Michael is like a fly Alex is simply unable to get rid of. It's rather frustrating but he's pretty sure that's the reason why you keep him around. Because he bugs the hell out of Alex. But Alex actually does like Michael.

His eyes have been closed for too long. You're somehow in your bra and underwear, sitting on the side of the bed with your arms crossed. Your returning touch snaps him out of it. Your hand skims through his hair. "Go to sleep," you whisper.

"You're almost naked and you want me to sleep." For people who have slept together so much, Alex can only think of two times you've actually slept together (one was his birthday, and the other was that blizzard last December). That's where the chink in your relationship lies but we won't concern ourselves with that today.

"Why? You want head to relieve your head." You're playful and wonderful and he's pathetic and weird and he loves you so fucking much and you know this and you love this and maybe even part of you loves him but he can't be sure of anything just that you feel good and he makes you feel good and maybe that's all it has to be (but wouldn't it be great for it to be more).

He flips onto his back. "If you insist." And he insists. He insists so much. He'd beg at this point but he's just so tired. He hates feeling this way like he'd give up parts of himself just to please you. But your hands are playing with the waistband of his underwear and all of that feels pointless.

"Oh, how you flatter me," you gush. You bring your legs up onto the bed and sit on your knees. You overpower him, hovering above. One hand moves up and grazes over his stomach, the other deepens into his underwear. He better flatter you, fully erect with all of him—his heart, his soul, his dick—sitting in your hands.

Tingles overtake him. Your mouth covers him and your tongue washes over the head like windshield wipers. He's jelly in your hands, complete mush. You take him deeper. He hits the back of you, unable to go any further. It's all too much but he can't turn this feeling away. The moaning, groaning, grunting, and whimpering that escapes his lips. 

You take your lips off of him and sit up so your eyes meet his. Your hand continues to move up and down. You smile, just slightly, no words. In there, he sees the love. He sticks his tongue out and you giggle and stick yours out. He puts his away while you leave yours out and return to his cock. He's back to feeling overwhelmed and you're quick, wanting to get this done before Michael is back. That doesn't ruin the feeling. It's actually kind of exciting like when you're a teenager and you're scared your parents are going to catch you. It's this newfound excitement, the kind he seems to find on every corner he passes with you.

He thinks about being brutal with you. It's something you've done before in these vignettes of quickies. The fast, rough nature of forcefully moving himself into your mouth. But he doesn't want this soft nature to leave. The one that you set the tone with when you walked into his bedroom and combed your hands through his hair. The kind that makes him feel warm inside, not from the sweat or liquor, but a much rarer feeling.

Instead, he reaches down and pushes the shadow of your hair back, just so it's out of your way. You laugh with him in your mouth. He's not sure why but it has him tensing his muscles, a desperation in the vibrations. You move him further and quicker and his heart is beating in his ears. 

Then, you sit up, rubbing him with your hand, finishing him off onto his stomach. He's left with his toes curling and his eyes closing. It's all too much. He wants to take you in handfuls. A moment passes. You stand and return with a tissue, rubbing him off of himself. You tuck him away back into his underwear.

You're still in your bra and panties. He reaches up and fixes a strap sliding off your shoulder. You reach your hand behind yourself, approaching the snap. He shakes his head. "Stay like that. I just like to look at you sometimes."

You're blushing again. Your hands fall onto his thighs. "Your head better?" Deflection. For someone who commands such a spotlight, you shrug away any attention, at least that is mixed with affection.

He reaches out and places his hand on your thigh—his right, your left. "Yeah." It'd be nice to stay like this for a while.

"What will we do when Michael gets back?" Oh, right. Him.

Alex says, "Lock the door."

You laugh and you tell him so, "You make me laugh." You lay down and tuck your head onto him. "Was that okay? Me moving?" You don't usually ask for permission, especially from him, especially when you're like this—next to naked and alone together. His arm curls around you, keeping you close because that's when everything feels good.

He feels sleepy. "Yeah." Everything is okay with him, everything that involves you like this is okay. His eyelids flutter and he feels bad for not doing anything for you but he's tired and he's taken care of you plenty of times before.

The front door shuts. Alex groans. You laugh. Michael whistles. "I'll make him leave."

Alex shakes his head. "You're going to make a drunk Michael leave?” A drunk Michael is the worst human being on Earth. Alex seriously does like Michael.

You stand up. Your hand finds his and tugs on it. He sleepily sits up but you've already left the room, moving out into the living room, still, only in your bra and panties. Alex thinks about putting his clothes back on but it's Michael and he doesn't care if Michael knows you've just given him head. Actually, it feels him with glee for Michael to know that. Besides, Michael is too drunk to recall anything anyway.

Michael has poured three glasses of brandy. "It'll help you digest dinner!" He exclaims. Alex doesn't think any of you had dinner unless you count all this liquor. Alex joins you and Michael on the couch and sips on his glass of brandy.

You put your hand on Alex's thigh. Michael leaves about an hour later. You and Alex are very drunk by the time he leaves. He doesn't remember the rest of the night. But you're in his bed when he wakes up. You're both hungover. He shouldn't drink so much.

*

a/n: i had fun writing this. i think it's written a little differently than my other stuff but maybe that's just me thinking i sound like hemingway. (currently reading the sun also rises). thanks!

[the-froschamethyst4]

Chef! Ghost

————

Chef! Ghost Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

————

SFW

Chef!Ghost who works in a 3 star Michelin Star restaurant and co-owns it

Chef!Ghost was just like Carmen Berzatto from The Bear. Watching YouTube videos on cooking perfect meals and being so precise and accurate with his cooking

Chef!Ghost who gets a bit attached and attracted to one of the waitresses

Chef!Ghost who yells at everyone else including his cooks but is extremely nice to his favorite waitress

"I NEED HANDS! WHERE ARE MY WAITERS!!?" He yells from the kitchen. Some of the customers all looked at the kitchen hearing him yell, waiters and waitresses excuse their selves to head to the back.

"Sorry, had a table that wouldn't let me leave, I was on my way, I promise," she says, coming into the back where he just apologized to her for being loud and rude.

"Yeah, same here," a waiter comes in.

"I EXPECT MORE FROM YOU, YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR AND STILL CAN'T GET A SIMPLE TICKET ORDER RIGHT!!" He yells.

"SHE'S BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ME!" Pointing to Y/n. She just shrugs and heads out.

Chef!Ghost who starts on desserts a bit early, but really he was making it for his favorite waitress.

"I'm looking for my order for table 5?" She comes in asking. "It's been close to 30 minutes," she says. "I thought the ticket times were good?"

"Ask him," Soap points to Simon over his shoulder, who was leaned over the dessert, he noticed Y/n and brought it over to her.

"Sorry for the slow time," he says. He grabs a to-go box and placed it inside and hands it to her. "For your lunch break." He says.

"Thank you...I still need that chicken alfredo for my table."

"It's coming," he says waiting for her to leave. "HEY I NEED THAT FUCKING CHICKEN ALFREDO, WHERE THE HELL IS IT!!?" He yells like his normal self.

Chef!Ghost who liked closing nights, cause sometimes Y/n has to close, Y/n always picked up night shifts cause she liked them, it was surprisingly slow at nights versus the morning or afternoon.

She wipes the tables down and moves the chairs to be on top of the tables, refilling the salt and pepper shakes as she cleans around. She rolls some silverware for the morning people.

"Your here late." Ghost says coming into the main dinning hall.

"I'm just cleaning up."

"Where's Henry?"

"He left early, so it's just me," she says.

"Did you...eat the dessert?"

"I didn't have time to, I didn't even get a break because I was running around doing things, and couldn't get a break," she says.

"Well, it looks like you're done now...want to...eat it?" He asks.

"Now?" She giggles at him.

"Why not? We can clean where we ate."

NSFW

Chef!Ghost who clears off a space in the kitchen, to place Y/n on top of. Spreading her legs, kissing her lips and moving down to her inner thighs. The plus about working here is that waitress were in skirts, honestly easy accuses

Chef!Ghost who now wants to close almost everyday just to be able to have you when no one is around

Chef!Ghost who has pulled Y/n into the walk-in for a quicky, locking it behind them and yelling at anyone who knocks to bother them

Chef!Ghost who likes to wait at the back door for you when you're done with your shift just to take you to the car and have his way with you in his car

Chef!Ghost who makes your favorite lunch and you two eat in the office with the door closed and Simon likes to have his dessert on his desk, her legs spread and seeing his favorite cream on the desk

Chef!Ghost who's birthday was coming up soon, the kitchen was already prepare for the Chef's birthday, but Y/n had came to his home for his early birthday gift

"Hi, my love," he says.

"Happy Birthday." After that small interaction, Y/n was in control with what happened next, her being on top of him with whipped cream on her chest with it slightly falling with the slight bounce. Simon was just a happy chef.

Chef!Ghost who loves your boobs and he makes subtle hints about it. Making desserts and putting cherries on them. When you two are alone he likes to tease you by moving the neck of your shirt to look down.

"Really?"

"I want to see them," he teases.

Chef!Ghost who makes it clear now that you're his, going up behind you during morning meetings and mess with your small apron around your waist, untying it and retying it how he likes it.

Touching your waist to move you out of the way, and gently speaking to you

Never raising his voice at you for any reason

Chef!Ghost when it's Halloween he gets a sneak peak of your custom before going into work

"I like it...the top though?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's a little low. Only I...can see these beauty's," he says making his way to your chest cupping your boobs and kissing between them

[hopefulidiocy]

Dancing in the Rain

Prince!Aemond x Female!Reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, fluff

~

You strolled through the streets, your hands clasped at your stomach as you marvelled at the street markets; your basket resting in the crook of your elbow, swollen clouds hung overhead, threatening to let loose as you picked berries for your supper later. The vendor smiled as you picked three batches of raspberries, giving him the money and flashing your stunning smile back; your teeth like pearls and shining as you turned back down the busy street. People pushed past you, trying to sell their goods and some running away from the vendors who were too needy. At the end of the road, stood a tall black figure, hooded and guarded. Your skin lighted as you tried to suppress your smile, strutted towards him. You stood, acting unaware, in front of him, falsely taking interest in the armour stall where the vendor was too busy flirting with the young lady beside you. The hooded figure made a small step towards you as you picked up the heavy chainmail, inspecting it for its… shininess. Admittedly, you had no idea what you were looking for, you just wanted to play around with him. You turned and forcefully bumped into him, his hands immediately coming out from the darkness and holding your elbows.

“Oh! My apologises, sir.” You gasped and looked up to see just his pretty lips that spread into a smile.

“Nice try, Y/N.” His voice was smooth. He caressed your elbows with his thumbs as you reached up to reveal his face. His hair was tucked away into a low ponytail, his blue eye looking at you, full of affection and you smiled.

“Oh, Aemond. It’s you.” You smirked. “I had no idea.” His chest broke free a slight, whispery chuckle which made your heart flutter. You loved that sound, he hardly laughed or even smiled but when he was around you, you brought something out of him that he didn’t know was possible. He brought his veiny hand to your cheek, you nestled into it.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He said softly, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I might have to take you home with me.” He teased, you laughed leaning into his chest, he held you there a for bit longer than needed.

“Why are you here?” You finally asked, pulling away from him and pushing gently past him to continue on your market path. He hung a step behind you, menacingly taller than most smallfolk around you, people started making way for you now that he was around.

“I wanted to buy fruit.” You rolled your eyes, scoffing, looking back at him briefly to see his joking smirk.

“Seriously, Aemond.” You warned, leaning down to look at the fish that was for sale.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said, seriously. You smiled but also felt slightly irritated that he was always looking out for you, always where you were. All because Daemon once intercepted your path and threatened you with death if you wouldn’t change your mind and take the knee for Rhaenyra. It was nothing and it definitely didn’t threaten you, you were pretty hard headed.

“I’m fine, Aemond.” You handed the vendor some money in exchange for a silverback fish. “I’m flattered but it has to stop.” You walked away from the bustling market street and instead both of you walked shoulder to shoulder towards the river. Away from people, he slipped his arm around your waist, gripping his fingertips into your hips as you bounced against each other.

“Just making sure, my love. Just making sure.” He pressed his lips against your temple, mumbling the words against it. You leaned into his delicate touch, it was always gentle with you, he never once laid his hands on you. He would kill someone first before ever being aggressive with you. Although sometimes he did pull your hair…

The river side was quiet, the stoned pathways silent for their footsteps that fell into a smooth drum together. He kept his arm around your waist, looking over the river, watching the ripples from the ducks and from the boats that had passed them on their way. A few minutes into your quiet walk, raindrops began to fall, you sighed and ducked your head under his cloak, trying to keep your basket dry. He chuckled, pulling you further into his side, his arm strong around you as the rain began to drop harder against your bodies.

“We need to find some shelter!” You shouted over the drumming of the water falling from the sky. Both of you suddenly broke out into a run, laughing as his cloak bellowed behind him and his toned legs moving quickly under the bridge. You would’ve ran into him he he hadn’t stopped you by holding onto your shoulders, he turned you around, your back against his chest and arms coming around your shoulders and clasping in front of your chest. He leaned his cheek against your head, rocking you gently, you roamed circles around the back of his hands; watching the rain patter and the wind flying around and picking up leafs and swirling the grass.

“This is nice.” You hummed, you felt a puff of air from his nose as he let out a very slight chuckle. Kissing your temple, leaning you to the right as he applied pressure on it, you stumbled slightly and turned around to face him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his around your waist.

“Your hair is wet.” You said, reaching up and combing your fingers through his messy white ponytail.

“Very perceptive of you.” He smirked, craning his neck and placing a soft whisper kiss on your lips, you sighed into it.

“What did you buy?” He nodded towards the basket that had fallen at your feet. You kneel down to collect it and he caught the moment. “I like you down there.” You playfully smacked his arm, laughing, and pulling up your basket to the crook of your elbow.

“Idiot.” You laughed. “I bought raspberries, strawberries, carrots, cheese, bread and fish.” You recited them happily. He hummed, looking down at the basket. “You want something, don’t you?”

“You know me so well, honey.” He peered at you from the side of his eye, a smile playing on his lips, pulling away the small blanket over your basket.

“Just don’t take the strawberries, they’re my favourite.” You sighed, pulling up the basket so he can roam his hands around the food. He hummed as he chose. Of course, he picked out a strawberry, you rolled your eyes as he inspected the red berry, glistening and ripe. “I told you not to take-“

“Ah. Ah. Ah.” He quietened you, looking down at you. “Who said I picked it out for me?” The rain thundered through your ears as he brought his index finger under your chin, tipping your head back. “Open for me, baby.” You smirked at his hot gaze, opening your mouth seductively and stretching your tongue over your bottom lip. He hummed, again, as he brought the strawberry to your mouth. You crunched down, the juice squirting over your lips and running down your chin as the sweet flavour ran over your tongue. He thumbed the juice off your chin, placing some pressure with it and brought it to his own mouth, sucking on it gently.

“Thank you, Aemond.” You said, giggling. He smiled then, properly and looked ahead of you at the rain that was plummeting down on the pavement, the river making a soothing sound as you turned as well; pressing your back against his chest. Suddenly, a burst of energy rippled through your body and you whipped around to face him, taking him by surprise.

“What’s got you so excited?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. You chuckled, grabbing his hands and pulling him into the rain. He yelled as the cold water ran down his bare back, you laughed and raised his arms above your head and twirled underneath them. He smiled as he watched you jump, spin and twirl in the rain and ended up joining in. He jerked you towards his body, you collided with him, your hair wet and soggy, falling over your eyes as he placed your hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. He slowly led you around your pavement dance floor, not keeping his eye off you as you relished in the feeling of your Aemond holding you closely and protectively as he spun you under his arm.

“I love you, Y/N.” You warmed up instantly, crashing your body further into his and wrapping your arms around his middle, your head tucked into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your frame, his chin resting on your head as the rain seemed to make a shield around you because you no longer felt the pelts of water. His arms always made you protected and loved, he had this way about him that made everyone feel on edge but with you… with you he made you feel loved, happy and calm. Calm was the best feeling. There was no torment with him, he just kept you close and treated you with the respect you deserved.

“I love you too, Aemond.”

[sugawhaaa]

Taehyun Smut Headcanons

Sex with Taehyun would be like...

NSFW content

Pairing:: Taehyun x fem!reader

Genre:: auralism, bdsm, groping, choking, ownership, pet play (?) Shower sex, temperature play, oral, fingering

A/N:: writing this low-key made me realize a kink I have...auralism. I never knew it was an actual thing but apparently it is 😭

🎧::

KINKS

Auralism-sexual arousal when hearing specific things

Taehyun's auralism kink is definitely one of his more hidden kinks, as in he doesn't express it as much as the others verbally or physically, but it's more something that he just enjoys so much about sex. Your pretty little moans, the way you try to pull his name past your lips, your heavy breathing in his ear, and most of all the sounds of your pussy slicking him up inside you. He likes missionary sex because you have the opportunity to lean up close to him and weakly moan in his ears. He also loves to set you on his lap, your back facing his chest, and finger you. That way whenever you tip your head back and moan your heart out the strings of music flutter right to his ears.

"Good girl, cry out my name baby,"

Physical touch-speaks for itself

Terry loves being all pressed up against you, a clingy baby at times, but during intimacy when he gets his hands all over you and your hands all over him he can't control himself. His favorite endogenous zones are his hips/waist, thighs, neck, chest, and anywhere on his face. Making out before sex is always huge with him too, he can get a little aggressive, pushing you down against the bed and grabbing your shoulders harshly as he forces his tongue into your mouth. He might also grab your throat or jaw, forcing you to make eye contact when you cum together 🤭 during day-to-day life he can't keep his hands to himself, wrapping his arms around your waist or nuzzling his head into your neck, which is all innocent but sometimes he likes to grope you at random times just for fun. How can he help it? You're just so plump and squishy~

"Look at me baby, show me that pretty face. Yes~ there's that pretty face,"

Power dynamic-having certain roles in bed that fluctuate in this case

Taehyun is adaptable, he will be the sub or dom depending on the mood, though he leans towards dominant. He's typically not rough though, only spitting and growling dirty remarks here and there if he's really into it, but often times he just loves to have that control over you. He knows that if he asks you to do anything you will. He feels like he's trained you, almost like a dog and its owner. Terry loves to be able to praise you, reward you and deliver the pleasure you deserve. It's quite a confidence boost knowing he has this much sexual control over you.

"Fuck you're so irresistible, get on your knees baby; good girl,"

Teasing/verbal edging-talking dirty to your partner about what they will eventually do to you, resulting in putting you on edge

Teasing and verbal edging would be something Taehyun originally did subconsciously. He would kinda just say what he's thinking or try and get you riled up but he noticed that he felt more engaged in sex with you when he'd talk like that, so he did. He also likes to talk you through it, telling you step by step what he's doing. "Gonna stretch you out now baby," "Good girl, keep your legs open just like that,"

He'd like to talk to you beforehand as well whispering in your ears about how he wants to fuck you when you get home or to a private place.

"I can't wait to spread these legs and eat like a king,"

LOCATIONS

shower/bath/washroom

Something about the warmth and comfort in a bathroom is very appealing to Taehyun. The two of you can be completely bare without judgment, get a little wet, and play around. Taehyun doesn't just fuck you in the shower though, no no, he goes the extra mile by changing the temperature to increase the pleasure of your orgasm or make his fingers colder before dipping inside you. Not to mention he'll grab the shower head and put it up to your clit (or make you hold it) as he fucks you and then change the temperature as well. Clothes can be used as gags, blindfolds, or restraints and if you're into it there's also scent play. The steam can also create another level of sexual pleasure, everything else blurred out besides the two of you in pure passion.

"Mmm, you like that hm? You like it when I cool you down from the inside out huh?"

Chair sex

This one may sound weird but just listen. He wouldn't really fuck you with his cock in the chair but he'd love to sorta strap you down to the chair, or if your willing to stay still just sit in the chair, and eat you out, finger you, or use some toys. He'd like to keep chair sex very romantic and gentle, slowly eating you out as you moan over and over without fail. There's no one real reason Tae likes this so much, it's just a thing about him. Perhaps there's something more romantic about him being below you while you sit above him, looking down on him.

"I could eat this pussy all night,"

Bedroom...ofc

Something about having sex in bed with the curtains open is so romantic to Taehyun. Whether it's the moon shining full and the dark blank curtain covering the sky, decorated with stars, or if it's the break of dawn and the sun is gleaming through the curtains onto your nude bodies Taehyun loves to have sex in the bedroom.

"Couldn't wait until night to feel my love?"

POSITIONS

Sitting face-to-face: similar to cowgirl except both partners are sitting up facing each other.

Taehyun loves to be close to his love and how much closer can you get when he's inside you? Still, skin-on-skin contact is so meaningful to him so in this position he can hug you the entire time if he wants. Another perk is that there is not really a top or bottom, just two people making love while gazing into each other's eyes. He also has access to any parts of your body, as well as you have access to him, so he can grope you, rub your clit, make out with you, hold your hand, and so on.

"Yes baby, hold my hair just like that,"

Missionary-the "traditional" sex position

He likes this one because it also allows him to have full access to your body and a little more control over you. It's also easier to thrust into certain areas of your pussy and have more focused control of his thrusts. Not to mention he gets to see your beautiful face, which helps indicate if you're enjoying it, and you can grab onto him if needed. This position tends to shake the bed a little bit too because of the direction of force and stuff which kinda plays a part in Taehyuns auralism kink. The sound of the bed creaking and hitting the wall 🥴

"Show me that pretty face, doll"

Overall Taehyun is very open to any positions and will use his surroundings to assist with positions

[pmpmyread]

spreading positivity for yourself and for others: what are some fanfics you've written that you're proud of? who are your favorite writers in the fic community?

Hey Anon, thanks for your lovely ask! Sending some positive vibes right back at you 🩵

Your first question tasks me to choose a favorite among my children lol but I will give it a shot.

Distraction is a Drifter x Eris Destiny 2 fic I wrote last year. I'm proud of it because it was my first try at tiptoeing back towards the romance genre after over a decade since writing my previous fic (a FFVIII Squall x Rinoa thing I'd written on ffnet back when I was 19 lmao). It's pretty tame, I even stopped just short of tagging it as Romance, opting for Romantic Friendship instead, that's just how chicken I truly was LOL. My writing has definitely improved since, but ultimately, composing and sharing this fic helped alleviate some of my self-doubt at the time.

Nanami Kento & Casual Touches is one of my earlier JJK x Reader fics. I'm proud of this one not only for what I've created but the way by which it was produced. To this day, it was the easiest time I've had writing anything during what happened to be a difficult period for me. I'd somehow managed to turn my turmoil into one of the most hopeful and positive pieces I've ever written. Corny as it sounds, that story and that moment truly did so much for me. The only negative here is that I've been chasing that elusive high ever since LMAO.

I've answered a variation of your second question within a recent ask linked here, so do check that out as well, but I will certainly add some more inspiring writers below, along with my current favorite work of theirs.

@mysteria157 (JJK): Incredibly deep stories with some of the strongest and most admirable MCs you'll ever read. Rec: Love's Ransom

@rahuratna (JJK + BNHA): Intricate and immersive universes depicted in the most beautiful prose. Rec: Arangetram

@cmdrfupa (JJK): Expert-level character studies skillfully wrapped into elaborate narration. Rec: Furtive

@espace--positif (LaDS + JJK): A fluff merchant. Target-precise canon characterization depicted in wonderful, feel-good fics. Rec: Mornings with Him

@imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese (Destiny 2): Insightful and healing stories that truly dig deep into the vast Destiny 2 universe and the complexity of its characters. Rec: Perfection

This list is FAR from exhaustive as I've recently connected with so many talented writers within these different fandoms and I still have a ridiculously long TBR list. I will definitely create a recs list sometime soon. If there is one thing I am confident about, it's my fan work curation skills. lol 💅🏽

Thanks again for your ask, Anon, it was a great way to start my day 🩵

[vigilskeep]

give me the Sol good & bad endings in detail pretty pls 💖

sol as a character is defined by the crows and the blight, so here’s a spread of what i might have to work with

some bad sol endings:

crow version: the Widow Dellamorte. sol commits to being first talon lucanis’ right hand, but fail to protect him when the rest of the crows go to war with the ascending dominance of the dellamorte-de riva-cantori block. desperate to cling to whatever they have left of him, they allow themself to be possessed by spite—a fuller meld than spite/lucanis ever was, more in the anders/justice style—and become a vengeful winged monstrosity effectively haunting the dellamorte villa. black veil over golden heavy armour. for now, they still recognise their friends

blight version: the blight finally catches up. sol was intensely careful about fighting the blight right up until the final days, where there was nothing for it but to cut blindly into blight cysts. obviously it’s awful and pointless for them to suddenly die after all that, which is why i think we should at least explore the possibility. for awful and pointless drama. the ending they were kind of hoping for, just when they no longer want it??

alternate blight version: okay this isn’t an ending per se but i still think ghilan’nain should have gotten to turn them into a sick crow-themed blight monster at some point, as a special treat. this can also be a neutral or good ending depending on how much of themself they retain and how much of a monsterfucker lucanis is. sorry for saying that

some neutral-ish sol endings:

crow version: the First Talon’s Executioner. this is the version where sol goes back to the crows and it’s essentially business as usual. i can’t imagine this as good, but with their renewed appreciation for what they have and the lifetime of focus and activity ahead in order to just keep their heads above water, it could be survivable. and lucanis is there. but then i think about how permanently damning the step is where you start raising the next generation for it and i feel a bit sick

blight version: warden sol! sol finally gets up the nerve to cut ties with the crows, making the necessary choice for themself even if it means losing the people they love most. they take the joining and build what life they can alongside davrin, evka, and antoine, slaying darkspawn and finding a new path for the wardens following the tracks of a changing blight. it’s ugly and terrifying and hard, full of horror they never get used to, that will still be making their skin crawl until the day it kills them and drags them down, far from the comforts of home. but as a life, it is, at least, theirs to choose

some good sol endings:

crow version: a newly re-energised sol takes their place at lucanis’s side but considers things in ways they never could have before. why does going back to the crows have to mean they’re locked in place? they aren’t the underdog just clawing for survival that they once were, and they don’t have to act like it. they can do better! they have viago and teia and lucanis and people listen to them. if the dread wolf can change, can’t the crows? through a certain connection via the wardens, they make a contact who has very interesting ideas on the crows’ future

blight version: sol accepts they can’t stay with the crows, does a whole tear-stained confession to a shocked and distraught lucanis, and walks away. they settle into helping davrin, evka, and antoine against the changing blight. nobody actually requires them to take the joining because, hey, they’ve already gotten rid of more than enough archdemons for one person (showoff), and sometimes it is actually helpful for them to do their crow thing as the combatant the darkspawn can’t sense coming. maybe a year or two later, the world’s most miserable first talon (“they don’t even let me do my own assassinations anymore!”) quits his job, thoroughly disappoints his grandmother, thrills his demon, hands all his power to teia, and shows up somewhat nervously with as many antivan delicacies as he fears forgiveness will require

[peppymintdreams]

You a Sickie Baby?

Elias x Barista

Elias is sick and Nurse barista is here to take care of the huge baby

Elias hated being sick. He was used to being the protector, the one in charge, the one who never let anything—especially something as ridiculous as a cold—slow him down. But this time, he couldn't deny it: he was miserable.

Curled up on the couch, buried under a pile of blankets, his usually sharp, confident demeanor had been replaced by groggy eyes and a stuffy nose. His hair was a mess, and he had a box of tissues beside him that was already half empty.

Barista, on the other hand, was in full caretaker mode. They floated around the room, making sure he had everything he needed. Warm tea? Check. Soup simmering on the stove? Check. A constant supply of tissues and medicine? Check.

"How are you feeling now?" Barista asked, kneeling beside the couch and brushing a few stray locks of hair from Elias' forehead.

Elias let out a low groan, turning his face away in mock protest. "I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss."

"You’re not fine," Barista said, clearly unconvinced. "You sound like a clogged toilet. You acting like it too your full of shit"

Elias grumbled something under his breath, pulling the blanket higher over his face to hide his embarrassment. "I don’t need to be babied," he muttered.

Barista chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this rare opportunity to see the usually tough and unflinching Elias in such a vulnerable state. "You’re not being babied. I’m just... taking care of you."

"Same thing," Elias mumbled from under the blanket. He felt warm all over, and it wasn’t just from the fever.

Barista gave him a knowing smile and gently tugged the blanket down so they could see his face again. "I don’t know, you kinda seem like you’re enjoying the attention."

"I am not," he grumbled, eyes narrowing despite the warmth spreading through him as Barista’s hand came up to stroke his cheek softly. "You just—"

But before he could finish, Barista pressed a thermometer against his lips. "No more talking until we check your temperature."

Elias sighed, begrudgingly letting Barista place the thermometer under his tongue. As they waited for it to beep, Barista leaned in and kissed his forehead gently, as if to reassure him that he was in good hands. Elias tried not to let it show, but his heart fluttered a little at the small gesture.

When the thermometer beeped, Barista pulled it out and glanced at the reading. "101.5. Yep, you're definitely staying right here and resting."

Elias groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "Ugh. I hate this."

"I know," Barista said sympathetically, standing up to grab his tea from the nearby table. "But it's part of being human. Even tough guys like you get sick sometimes."

Elias peeked out from under his arm, pouting slightly. "I hate being a human right now."

Barista couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, you’ll feel better soon. But for now, just let me take care of you, okay?"

Elias sighed, clearly still reluctant but not putting up much of a fight anymore. "Fine. But only because I have no choice."

"You love it," Barista teased, offering him the mug of tea.

Elias took it, grumbling as he sipped. "I tolerate it."

Barista raised an eyebrow, crossing their arms. "Is that so? Then maybe I’ll just stop pampering you."

Elias’s eyes widened, and his hand shot out, grabbing onto Barista’s sleeve before they could walk away. "Wait, wait—I didn’t say I hated it," he quickly corrected, the usual bravado slipping away as he gave them an exaggerated, pitiful look.

Barista smiled, clearly enjoying this little power play. "That’s what I thought. Now, drink your tea."

Elias rolled his eyes but obediently sipped the warm liquid. Despite his complaints, there was something comforting about having Barista fuss over him like this. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but being taken care of—even babied a little—wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Especially when it was them doing it.

Barista pulled the blanket up to his chin again and kissed the top of his head, sitting beside him as he settled back against the cushions. “You’ll be back to normal soon, Elias. Until then, just relax. I’ve got you.”

Elias closed his eyes, a small, almost undetectable smile tugging at his lips. He was sick, yes—but with Barista around, maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

[discordiansamba]

zuko ends up chatting with min-su for quite awhile, so he gets the full experience of having to deal with someone you know who doesn't know themselves anymore.

he also hates how easy it is for him to fall into mannerisms that aren't his. this didn't happen with jin, but then, she'd called him zuko. min-su calls him lee.

(he hadn't been wearing green then either)

it works to his benefit, he guesses. min-su doesn't notice anything amiss. zuko lies and tells him that he's working in a tea shop in the upper ring now. he should... come by sometime. it's called the jasmine dragon.

uncle still owns the building. he's pretty sure he wouldn't mind opening it back up for one day.

min-su agrees to come visit. he's got a day off this weekend. he'd love to swing by.

when min-su leaves, zuko exhales. he can leave, finally. he pays the owner and leaves without finishing his last cup of tea. he almost starts heading in the wrong direction, before he catches himself and heads back towards the gate to the upper ring instead.

zuko just makes a beeline past uncle and slams the door to his room behind him. he scrambles out of the green earth kingdom clothing as fast as he can. he puts fire nation red back on, and exhales slowly as he does. he feels more like himself again.

once he's calmed down, he goes to talk to uncle iroh. he confirms that lan-wei hadn't been lying. lu ten is alive, and he has been brainwashed. he was a regular at his tea shop. he's name is min-su now. he works as a guardsman in the middle ring.

he tells uncle what he told min-su. iroh nods, agreeing that it is a good plan. he will consult with katara to see if she can join them that day. it feels a bit like they're creating a trap for lu ten... but that's exactly what they're doing, actually.

uncle asks zuko about min-su.

zuko tells him. he's married, he reveals. he and his husband got married right after ba sing se was taken back in the name of the earth kingdom. his uncle is more than a little surprised to hear this- and disappointed he did not get to attend the wedding.

that's okay. lee did. zuko describes it to him.

he doesn't have any children. he's... a lot like lu ten, actually, now that zuko thinks about it. he didn't know how he didn't see it before. he guessed it was because all of his memories of min-su belong to lee. uncle doesn't say it, but he can tell he's privately relieved that his son doesn't seem to be as altered as zuko was.

the agreed upon day arrives. iroh returns to the jasmine dragon for the first time in two years, and opens it once more. he does not make zuko wear earth kingdom green. the brown of the earth kingdom is still somewhat uncomfortable, but it's manageable.

word spreads of its reopening. plenty of customers trickle in. it's weird to be recognized as mushi's nephew lee, instead of lan-wei's son lee.

min-su shows up around mid-afternoon. iroh can only stare wide-eyed at the son he's thought dead for years, before someone hustles him into the back for his own sake. he's crying, zuko notes.

zuko serves min-su tea. at least his cousin won't mock him for it. he watches as he takes his first sip and... blinks. zuko feels like he knows that hundred yard stare. he's sure he's made that face himself, once or twice.

(in the early days of being lee, at least. after...)

min-su quietly asks if he can meet the brewer. zuko guides him into the back where iroh is waiting- with katara.

(his uncle isn't going to give his son the same choice he gave lee. but lu ten only thinks he's a different person. lee believed it.)

can't add it now, but consider: lan-wei was so good at brainwashing zuko because this is actually his second time brainwashing a fire nation prince. or: lee has a favorite regular. it's a guardsman named min-su who always comes in during his break. he's a refugee who moved here a little after the dragon of the west's failed siege.

it's funny. they get along like they've known each other all their lives.

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.